THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 Ex Libris 
 
 Katharine F. Richmond 
 
 and 
 Henry C. Fall
 
 //jsf^-^PSfe 
 * . -.- 

 
 fi Oi^-f\Xi^-^y(J-' o "' f K*-*- 
 
 - 
 
 s.
 
 PERSIS F. CHASE. 
 
 "There lies a village in * peaceful vale 
 With sloping hills ami waving woods around." 
 
 BRATTLEBORO, VT. : 
 
 FRANK E. HOUSH & Co., PUBLISHERS. 
 
 1887.
 
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1887, BY PERSIS F. CHASE.
 
 F 
 4-H 
 
 M>-t of the following 1 articles appeared in the 
 columns of the Lancaster (.jazctfc, with the excep- 
 tion of some of the sketches which were published 
 in the Portland Transcript. 
 
 It i> hoped they will prove acceptable in the 
 more pretentious form of a book, to the residents 
 of the town; and perhaps those whose former home 
 was in this locality, but who have wandered far 
 awav from this pleasant valley among the 'moun- 
 tains, will recall the scenes of- other days in reading 
 these sketches; and the summer visitor who has 
 found health and pleasure among our hills, may find 
 in the drives I have attempted to describe, a mem- 
 ory of happy hours. 
 
 PERSIS Y. CHASE. 
 
 LAXCASTKR, N. H., 1887. 
 
 1066630
 
 w THE DAYS OF AULD LANG SYNE " . . . . 9 
 
 F. MMO\S STOCKWELL 14 
 
 THE DJUVE TO STOCKWELL FARM 20 
 
 MAJOR JONAS WILDER 23 
 
 THE DRIVE TO JEFFERSON 27 
 
 THE BUILDING OF THE FIRST CHURCH ... 31 
 
 THK DRIVE TO NORTHUMBERLAND 37 
 
 ZIBA LINES 40 
 
 THE DRIVE TO SOUTH LANCASTER 43 
 
 RICHARD EVERETT 48 
 
 THE DRIVE TO STEBBIN'S HILI 52 
 
 PHEBE SPAULDING 55 
 
 THE DRIVE AROUND MT. PROSPECT .... 64 
 
 OUR " BUNKER HILL" 70 
 
 THE DRIVE TO EGYPT . 72 
 
 A TRUE STORY 76 
 
 TICK SOLILOQUY OF THE OLD ACADEMY 82
 
 8 Contents. 
 
 THE DRIVE AROUND THE GORE 87 
 
 THE FARRAR HOUSE MYSTERY 91 
 
 THE DRIVE TO THE TOP OF MT. PROSPECT. . 97 
 
 GREAT GRANDMA'S CARPET 100 
 
 THE DRIVE OVER PAGE HILL 106 
 
 THE OLD CEMETERY . . 1 1 1
 
 a nega 
 
 "THE DAYS OF AULD LANG SYNE." 
 
 IN 1825, the village of Lancaster contained 34 
 houses, most of them cheaply built, and unpainted. 
 There were two taverns. The stage tavern at the 
 north end of the village, kept by William Cargill, 
 standing where Jacob Benton's house now does. 
 This building was moved a little farther north, and 
 is now occupied as a tenement house. The other 
 \\ us the American House kept by Samuel White. 
 This building was partly destroyed by fire, and has 
 lately been taken down. 
 
 There was only one church in the village, a large, 
 unfinished building, standing on sand hill, about 
 where the meeting-house common is now. The 
 hill at that time was very steep. A number of 
 wooden steps led up to the meeting-house. I do 
 not think our village forefathers were very wise in 
 choosing such an elevated position, for on a sum- 
 mer's dav the view from the door must have been
 
 io The Lancaster Sketch Book. 
 
 so beautiful that I am sure some were tempted 
 " to be doorkeepers in the house of the Lord" in- 
 stead of going inside. Parson Willard preached 
 in the meeting-house for many years at a salary .of 
 $150 a year. 
 
 This building was erected in 1791, when there 
 were only 26 voters in town. In 1846 the old 
 meeting-house was moved down the hill, to the 
 spot where it now stands, and has since been known 
 as the town hall. 
 
 There was a Methodist society who held services 
 in the court house, which stood where Kimball 
 Fletcher's house now does. The room was 
 warmed by a potash kettle inverted on a brick 
 arch. 
 
 Some prominent lawyers attended court here 
 about the time I am writing of , Daniel Webster, 
 Levi Woodbury, Ichabod Bartlett, Joseph Bell, 
 among the number. 
 
 Gen. John Wilson was clerk of the Common 
 Pleas Court, of which Arthur Livermore was chief 
 justice. Adino N. Brackett was clerk of the Supe- 
 rior Court, William M. Richardson, chief justice. 
 Major John W. Weeks was sheriff. 
 
 The jail stood where the present one does. It 
 was built of heavy hewed timbers of elm. It
 
 Tin- /.nitcustcr 
 
 \\ us used for 53 years, being burnt in 1858. 
 
 A little red gun bouse stood where the 1'nitarian 
 church now does, where a brass cannon was kept, 
 used by the artillery company. The postoffice was 
 kept in the south-west room in the Fletcher house. 
 Samuel A. Pearson, who then occupied the house, 
 was postmaster. The mail south went out twice a 
 week, carried in a two-horse wagon, and was three 
 davs in reaching Boston, stopping at Haverhill the 
 first, and Concord the second night. The mail was 
 carried to Colebrook once a week, to Bethel once a 
 week on the way to Portland, b\- a man on horse- 
 back. 
 
 The physicians were Benjamin Hunking, Elipha- 
 let Lyman and Jacob Stickney, who went their 
 rounds on horseback, with the saddlebag containing 
 their medicine swung across the horse's back. 
 
 There were four stores. One kept by Perkins, 
 Eastman <S: Co., a building that was situated where 
 Irving Drew's house is now. Another kept by 
 Benjamin Boardman, in what is now known as the 
 Rix house. The other two were at the south end 
 of the village, and kept by Samuel White and 
 Reuben Stephenson. 
 
 The stock of goods kept wJis very small, the 
 sale of liquors making an important part of the
 
 12 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 
 
 trade. There was no law to prevent or regulate 
 the selling of liquor. New England rum was con- 
 sidered essential during haying and harvesting. Ci- 
 der was made in large quantities and used freely in 
 all farmer's families. Ready-made clothing was 
 unknown, as well as the modern machine-made hos- 
 iery for underwear. The wool and flax w 7 hich ev- 
 ery farmer raised, was spun and woven into cloth 
 by the busy housewife and her daughters. A tail- 
 oress went from house to house making this cloth into 
 garments for the men and boys. 
 
 Women, for ordinary wear, used home-made cloth, 
 spun and woven by themselves. Flannel for winter 
 and linen fabrics for summer. Dresses were made 
 very plain, six to seven yards of cloth, three-fourths 
 wide, was considered a large pattern. 
 
 Every fall the shoemaker went with his bench 
 and tools to each house, when a corner of the 
 kitchen was given up to him until the family were 
 all shod. The shoemakers were Samuel Humux, 
 an old Englishman from London, Heber Blanchard 
 andjosiah Smith. 
 
 There was no wheelwright or competent painter 
 in the place. Judge Lovejoy and Richard Eastman 
 were house carpenters. Ephraim Cross manufact- 
 ured hats in a small way. Allen Smith was saddler
 
 Tin- Lancaster Sketch l*<>k. \ \ 
 
 ;iiul harness maker. Warren Porter had a black- 
 smith shop opposite his house which is now occupied 
 by his son. 
 
 There was a gristmill and saw mill at the Wesson 
 place, the miller, Squire Darby. Another grist mill 
 stood where the present one does, Mr. Greenleaf, 
 .in old, white-headed revolutionary veteran, being 
 miller. 
 
 There was a clothing mill and carding works 
 where the Freeman mill is now. 
 
 The wages of laboring men was fifty cents a 
 <lav and board, house carpenters and most mechan- 
 ics commanded one dollar a day and board. The 
 tailoress and dressmaker considered twenty-five cents 
 a dav ample remuneration for their work. Seventy- 
 five cents a week was all the most competent house- 
 maid received. 
 
 Only a few remain to tell us of the old days. 
 Nearly all have gone " the way of all the world." 
 
 Fifty years have brought great changes, not only 
 to this village, but to all New England. The rail- 
 road, telegraph and telephone, and innumerable in- 
 ventions to facilitate labor, have been invented with- 
 in that time. 
 
 Progression is seen on every hand the old mak- 
 ing way for the new which is as it should be.
 
 14 77ie Lancaster Sketch Book. 
 
 " Let the great world spin forever down the ring- 
 
 ing grooves of change." 
 
 EMMONS STOCKWELL. 
 
 Emmona Stockwell, the subject of this sketch, 
 was born in Petersham, Mass. As he was bereft of 
 his parents at an early age, he was bound out to 
 service during his minority. In order to encourage 
 enlistments, a regulation was made that indentured 
 apprentices should be entitled to their freedom if 
 they would enlist in the public service. Stockwell, 
 although very young, took advantage of this pro- 
 vision which gave him his liberty. He was in one 
 of the expeditions which went up for the invasion 
 of Canada during the French war. On returning 
 from this expedition he, with some others, came 
 down the Connecticut River, and for the first time 
 beheld this magnificent valley. A few years later, 
 remembering the great natural attractions, he de- 
 cided to return and make his home here. 
 
 His glowing account of the Connecticut valley 
 interested others, and in the spring of 1764, he 
 started with Captain David Page, David Page, Jr.,
 
 77/c Lancaster Sketch Book. 15 
 
 ami a few others from IVtcrsham, to seek their 
 fortunes in Northern New Hampshire. The whole 
 country was then a dense wilderness; not a high- 
 wa\ had been constructed in or to our town. 
 
 The earlv settlers found their way bv marked 
 trees through the woods. They drove before them 
 some twenty head of cattle, with bags of salt, pro- 
 visions and farming tools fastened to their horns. 
 Thev erected their first camp on what is now known 
 ;i^ Holton meadow, and went immediately at work 
 to clear some land. In a short time they had twelve 
 acres planted with corn. It grew so rapidly that by 
 the 25th of August it was twelve feet high, and in 
 full milk, but this fair prospect of a good crop of 
 corn was entirely destroyed by a hard frost that 
 came on the 26th; but perseverance was the motto 
 of our forefathers. They managed to keep their 
 cattle through the winter by cutting the grass on 
 the open land on Beaver Brook, and were ready to 
 renew the struggles of another year. 
 
 The nearest mill was a No. 4, in the town of 
 Charlestown; but the settlers did not depend upon 
 food transported from there for their daily use. 
 Emmons Stockwell made a huge mortar which held 
 two bushels. Into this, corn, beans, and rye 
 were put, and pounded with a great wooden
 
 1 6 'J^hc Lancaster Sketch Book. 
 
 pestle. Cooked potatoes and vegetables were mixed 
 with the contents of the mortar and the whole w as- 
 baked together. This composition was called 
 " thump," and was considered a delicious dish, so I 
 am told. 
 
 The first white woman that came to Lancaster 
 was Ruth Page. Her father, Governor Page, so 
 called by way of distinction merely, never resided in 
 Lancaster, but was a sort of director of the set- 
 tlement, making frequent journeys to visit the new 
 colony, and by his counsel rendered them great aid 
 in the management of their affairs. Captain David 
 Page and son, who were among the first who came 
 here, were his brother and nephew. 
 
 In August, 1764, Governor Page started from 
 Petersham on horseback, accompanied by Ruth, 
 who was going to Lancaster to cook the food and 
 do the work for the little colony, then more than 
 forty miles from their nearest neighbors. 
 
 On the 25th of August, the night of the great 
 frost, Governor Page and his daughter slept in the 
 woods in Orford. They arrived in Lancaster the 
 last of the month to find the little colony somewhat 
 disheartened by the great calamity that had befallen 
 them, but were no doubt much cheered to know a 
 woman had come to make their homes more com- 
 fortable.
 
 The Lancaster SAf/c/i Book. 17 
 
 Ruth must ha\o IKK! a rather nice time, notwith- 
 standing the rough life. There were no other 
 i, r irls to share the attention of the young men, and 
 when Emmons began to pay attention to 
 her, as he soon did, she had no one to be jealous 
 of. 
 
 The next year after Ruth's arrival in Lancaster, 
 she was married to Emmons Stockwell, and began 
 housekeeping on the old Stockwell place. A part 
 of the old house is now standing. She was, at the 
 time of her marriage, eighteen years old, and he 
 was twenty-three. Mrs. Stockwell was a woman 
 of great determination of character. She had won- 
 derful general capacity; she could do anything that 
 was necessary, and did everything well. It is said 
 that in the days of the Revolution she was the sal- 
 vation of the colony. The hardships and dangers 
 which surrounded them, the capture of the settlers 
 by the Indians, and gloomy prospects of the country, 
 somewhat weakened the resolutions of the settlers. 
 They met at Mr. Stockwell's house to discuss the 
 abandonment of the town. Mrs. Stockwell declared 
 that she would not go away ; that she knew no 
 such thing as failure. Others were influenced by 
 the decision of the Stockwells, and the settlement 
 was saved.
 
 1 8 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 
 
 Mr. Stockwell had a vigorous mind, a great deal 
 of good common sense, and possessed prodigous 
 strength. He could neither read nor write, until 
 taught by his wife. For many years there was no 
 school or school house. Mrs. Stockwell, who was 
 a very good scholar for those early days, taught the 
 children of the settlement in her own house. The 
 next year after Mrs. Stockwell's marriage, Edward 
 Bucknam, one of the young settlers, married a sis- 
 ter of Mrs. Stockwell, who had probably come to 
 make her sister a visit. They settled at the mouth 
 of Beaver Brook, a stream that runs through Mar- 
 tin meadows. A hunter who caught a large num- 
 ber of beavers, which abounded in this stream, gave 
 his name to the meadows. The Bucknams had six 
 children, from whom have descended the Moores, 
 Mclntires, Howes and Bucknams. Their oldest 
 daughter, Eunice, was the first child born in the 
 settlement. It was a long time before any traveled 
 public way was constructed. Canoes were the only 
 carriages, and they were made by themselves from 
 the trunks of great trees. The women could row 
 these canoes up and down the river with great skill ; 
 and could also handle the rifle and fishing pole with 
 expertness. As the rivers and streams were full 
 of fish, and the forest of moose and other game, the
 
 '/'lie /.tr/ffiisfft- SAt-tc/t Book. 19 
 
 tables of our aiuvstm^ must have been supplied with 
 something besides " thump." 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Stockwell lived together more than 
 liftv-tive \ ears, and had fifteen children, seven sons 
 and eight daughters, all of whom grew to maturity. 
 Before Mrs. Stock well's death she could number 
 one hundred and ninety living descendants. She 
 died at the age of eighty-two; her husband at sev- 
 enty-eight. David Stockwell, their oldest child, 
 was the first son of Lancaster. 
 
 Edward Bucknam, whom I have mentioned be- 
 fore, was a very useful man to the new colony. He 
 was a good surveyor, and could " draw teeth " and 
 " let blood," and perform the marriage service. He 
 laid out a large portion of the town and many of 
 the highways. 
 
 The first bridge erected in town was the old 
 " Stockwell bridge," across Israel's River. The 
 right to cross it first was put up at auction, and bid 
 off by Emmons Stockwell, for five gallons of brandy 
 which cost him forty-two shillings a gallon. 
 
 The prosperity and success of our town is, no 
 doubt, owing in a great measure to the fact that its 
 foundations were laid by such men as Stockwell and 
 Bucknam, and honor and gratitude should be given 
 to the memory of Ruth Stockwell, who came
 
 2o 77ie Lancaster Sketch Book. 
 
 through the wilderness to aid the new settlers, and 
 who, by perseverance and courage, overcame all 
 obstacles and lived to see the " wilderness blossom 
 like the rose." 
 
 THE DRIVE TO STOCKWELL FARM. 
 
 In going to the Stockwell farm and through 
 the pine woods to the Northumberland road, we 
 drive to the north end of the village, and take the 
 road to the right, which is bordered on either side 
 with tidy, home-like looking houses, the yards in 
 front bright with flowers, and far away to the right 
 and left are charming mountain views. After cross- 
 ing the rail-road track, we turn to the left, which 
 takes us directly to the Stockwell farm, the high- 
 way ending there. We pass on the right the 
 Abbott place, and what was formerly known as the 
 Barton G. Towne farm. These farms were origi- 
 nally settled by the Pages. 
 
 Adjoining this is the Stockwell farm, which ex- 
 tends to the bank of the Connecticut river. The 
 first land cleared in Lancaster was twelve acres of 
 this farm near the river, by Emmons Stockwell, in
 
 The Liiii fatter Skctfh Hook. 21 
 
 April, 176 , and planted \vith corn. The broad in- 
 tervale that stretches away in undulating swells to 
 the river, has been known for a hundred and twenty 
 years as the " Stockwell Farm," and occupied since 
 the death of Emmons Stockwell, by his descend- 
 ants. 
 
 Driving on, we pass a beautiful grove of elms, 
 and just below stands the Stockwell farm house. 
 The low, moss covered ell connected with it is the 
 tirst frame building erected in Lancaster, and was 
 the home for many years of Ruth Stockwell, the 
 fust white woman that came to this town. 
 
 To the right of the buildings, which stand upon 
 a slight elevation, we look down upon a grand and 
 extensive meadow view. The river at this point 
 makes a sweeping curve toward Vermont, leaving 
 an expanse of three hundred acres of green intervale 
 on the New Hampshire side. A most charming 
 background for this green valley is first formed by 
 the Connecticut river and beyond that the hills of 
 Vermont. Nearlv in front of us, rising in sy met- 
 rical beauty, are Mt. McClellan and Mt. Rogers, 
 whose tree crowned sides descend into undulating 
 farms. Driving down the bank, we go on through 
 the meadow, passing fields of nodding rye and oats, 
 to the river, whose banks are gracefullv fringed
 
 22 JYie Lancaster Sketch Book. 
 
 with trees. Turning again, we drive up the bank, 
 passing through some bars on the left, and drive 
 across a level field. We are now on the old road to 
 Northumberland, but long since it ceased to be a 
 highway. On our right we pass the agricultural 
 fair grounds, beyond is the Pilot range, flecked with 
 shadows, and still farther on rise the familiar out- 
 lines of the White Mountains. We soon enter the 
 woods. Is it not delightful ? Take long breaths 
 of the fragrant, spicy air, for " our pines are trees of 
 healing." 
 
 Listen to the sighing breath of the trees. Henry 
 Ward Beecher says, " the first pines must have 
 grown on the sea shore, and learned their first accents 
 from the surf and the waves; and all their posterity 
 have inherited the sound, and borne it inland to the 
 mountains." 
 
 The friendly boughs seem to nod welcome to us. 
 On either side is a wild tangle of ferns, dog wood 
 and elder blooms, while our carriage wheels roll 
 over a carpet of pine needles. All too soon we 
 emerge into the sunshine, and turning to the 
 right find ourselves in the highway, homeward 
 bound. 
 
 The road we are now on was formerly the stage 
 route to Groveton. We drive into the village by
 
 Tin- /.a nfastcr SAf/rA Hook. 23 
 
 Summer St., getting a tint view of Mt. Prospect; 
 tlie road \\ hiding in a xig-xag course up its side, is 
 distinctly seen from this point. We soon finish our 
 drive, but the memory of broad meadows, moun- 
 tain peaks and lovely pine woods, will remain with 
 us. 
 
 Surely the variety and beauty of the drives in 
 this vicinity cannot be surpassed; whichever way 
 one goes " they cannot err in this delightful re- 
 gion." 
 
 MAJOR JONAS WILDER. 
 
 The first framed dwelling house erected in Lan- 
 caster was the large, square, flat-roofed building, that 
 stands at the north end of the village, known as the 
 " Holton house." 
 
 This house was considered at the time it was built 
 a very elegant residence; the finest in the county. 
 It was built by Major Jonas Wilder, who was born 
 in Lyme, Conn., on the 22d of February, 1732. 
 When quite young he went to Templeton, Mass, 
 where he resided many years. In the course of 
 time, reports came to Major Wilder of the rich land
 
 24 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 
 
 that had been discovered in the valley of the Con- 
 necticut in Upper Coos. He determined to go and 
 explore the region, which he did. On reaching 
 Lancaster, he was delighted with the natural loveli- 
 ness of this valley. In imagination he saw the broad 
 meadows, which at that time were covered with 
 trees, cleared and planted with corn, the river gleam- 
 ing like a band of silver through the fresh verdure, 
 while the encircling chain of mountains, seemed a 
 fitting frame for so fair a picture. 
 
 Major Wilder decided to go no farther, but bought 
 a mile square of land extending from the " Holton 
 house " to Israel's river. 
 
 He then returned to Templeton, to make arrange- 
 ments to remove to Lancaster, and take possession of 
 his new estate. 
 
 In Feb., 1780, he started from Templeton with 
 his wife and ten children, and a train consisting of 
 two family sleighs, four lumber sleighs and a num- 
 ber of sleds for stores. He also brought along 
 carpenters, masons and glaziers, and everything for 
 building purposes. 
 
 I do not know how long they were in reaching 
 Lancaster, but probably some weeks. A small 
 house was built for a temporary home, near the 
 river bank, remains of this building can still be
 
 77/<- Lancaster Sketch Hook. 25 
 
 ii the Ilolton meadow and some land cleared 
 and planted with corn. On the I9th of May, 1780, 
 memorable as the " dark (iay," they commenced 
 digging the cellar for the great house, hut by elev- 
 en o'clock it became so dark that the men were 
 obliged to discontinue the work. 
 
 This strange and as yet unexplained phenomenon 
 of nature, extended throughout New England, 
 and created great disturbance in the minds of the 
 people, and caused much commotion among the ani- 
 mal creation. The fowls went to roost, the birds 
 suddenly stopped their blithesome singing and dis- 
 appeared, the cattle returned to their stalls, lowing 
 pitifully. Candles were lighted in the houses, 
 and everything bore the aspect of the darkest 
 night. 
 
 Many were convinced that the end of the 
 world had come, and betook themselves to devo- 
 tions. 
 
 All worldly things have long since come to an 
 end for those who witnessed the " dark day," but 
 the sun has shone on with undiminished splendor 
 through the cycles of the years. 
 
 The frame of this house was raised on the 26th 
 of July, 1780. I have not been able to ascertain 
 the exact date of the completion of the building.
 
 26 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 
 
 As there was no church built until the-year 1794, 
 religious services were held at this house, also the 
 town meetings. In 1780, Major Wilder was chos- 
 en on a committee to select a public burying ground, 
 he presented the mound known as the "old burying 
 ground," to the town to be used for that purpose. 
 
 The first grist and saw mill in town were 
 built by Major Wilder. He also assisted in laying 
 out roads. He cleared a large tract of meadow land, 
 where he raised five hundred bushels of corn. I 
 have been told that this land was so rich, that for 
 years no dressing was necessary, and what 
 would now be considered of great value was thrown 
 in the Connecticut. 
 
 The county was thickly settled with Indians at 
 the time Major Wilder came here. He was noted 
 for his hospitable and humane care for them, 
 and was rewarded by their faithful friendship. 
 . He was a valuable accession to the new settlement, 
 and has left a record of which his descendants may 
 well be proud. 
 
 Of his numerous family, only one great-grand- 
 child is living in town at the present time. 
 
 He died in 1810 of paralysis. A handsome granite 
 monument recently constructed by a great grand- 
 son, Mr. C. O. Baker of Portland, Me., marks the 
 spot in the old cemetery where his ashes repose.
 
 /'//< Lancaster Sketch Book. 
 
 THE DRIVE TO JEFFERSON. 
 
 The White Mountain region is especially delight- 
 ful, affording as it does from almost any point, 
 charming and picturesque drives. 
 
 The situation of Lancaster is particularly favored 
 in this respect. In any direction you may go, 
 
 " Aloft on sky and mountain wall. 
 Are God's great pictures hung." 
 
 Perhaps the drive to Jefferson, going over the 
 "Jefferson Mills Road," and returning by the 
 " north road," affords as grand a view of the 
 White and Franconia ranges as can be had in this 
 vicinity. 
 
 We go up the sand hill and leave the village by 
 Portland St. On our right is Holton hill, a splen- 
 did situation for a summer hotel. The road is as- 
 cending most of the way for the next mile, which 
 brings us to the top of " LeGro hill." Before we 
 begin the descent, let us stop and enjoy the 
 beautiful views. To the right of us, to the left 
 of us, and in front of us, the horizon is terraced 
 with mountains. The cultivated uplands in 
 the foreground, are golden in the afternoon 
 sunshine. On our left is the Pilot range,
 
 28 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 
 
 broken by cones and peaks, while the soft clouds 
 that fleck the sky, are painting the mountain sides 
 with shadows of every imaginable form and shape. 
 Nearly in front, the whole White Mountain range 
 stands massive and majestic, the pride of New 
 Hampshire, as it has stood for thousands of years. 
 The gorges and ravines that channel the sides of the 
 mountains can be plainly seen. To the right, the 
 irregular peaks of the Franconia range are distinctly 
 outlined against the blue sky. Who can behold 
 this mighty chain of mountains at a fitting hour in 
 the afternoon, and fail to be impressed with the 
 view ? The grandeur of it cannot be over esti- 
 mated. 
 
 We go on down the hill, past as good farming 
 land as there is in town, but the stone walls that 
 surround some portion of it are a good evidence 
 that the soil has been redeemed from rocks and 
 stones, smoothed and enriched by indomitable indus- 
 try. Driving briskly along, passing some pleasant 
 and comfortable looking homes, we arrive at the 
 " Mills," once a lively little business place, but now 
 reminding one of the " deserted village." We take 
 the road to the left, cross a rickety bridge and are 
 on the direct route to " Jefferson Hill," a pleasant 
 shady road, with some quite steep hills. We soon
 
 The Lancaster Sketch /AW'. >cj 
 
 vs a beautiful maple grove. The underbrush has 
 been removed, and seats arranged beneath the dense 
 foliage of the trees, affording a delightful place for 
 picnics and gatherings. By the look of some of 
 the land we pass, the stories of sheep having their 
 noses sharpened to get at the grass between the 
 Atones, can be easily believed. 
 
 Presently we come in sight of the village of 
 " Jefferson Hill," and can distinguish the " Waum- 
 bek " house quite distinctly. As we are not going 
 to visit the village, we will take the turn to the left 
 and are on the North road, and soon come to an en- 
 tire change of scenery. The road is no longer hilly, 
 and quite a broad sweep of level land borders it on 
 either side, the hills that lie beyond are thickly cov- 
 ered with trees. In the Autumn this is an especial- 
 ly delightful drive, then these hillsides are one mass 
 of gorgeous coloring. 
 
 A little further on, a stream of water comes rush- 
 ing down the hillside, through a green pasture, 
 where a flock of geese are giving lessons to their 
 young in aquatic sports, but at our approach stretch 
 their necks and hiss, evidently taking us for ene- 
 mies. Some humane persons have placed a wooden 
 trough at the roadside, and into this the water comes 
 in a sparkling stream, into which our horse is anx-
 
 30 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 
 
 ious to plunge his nose. How 'he seems to enjoy it, 
 drinking so heartily. Then he lifts his head and 
 takes a look down the road, to see who is com- 
 ing. Some work horses turned loose in an adjacent 
 field, affecting gayety in their old age, attract his at- 
 tention, but we remind him he has other business 
 to attend to. Another mile brings us to a point 
 where the road diverges to the right and left. The 
 one to the right leading to Gore and Groveton, 
 the left is our way home, so we turn that way. 
 
 Bray Hill, on the edge of Whitefield, presently 
 comes into view, and although not much of an ele- 
 vation, is so situated that both the White and 
 Franconia ranges can be seen at good advantage 
 from the summit. 
 
 We are now approaching the part of the town 
 known as " out east," where some of the most de- 
 sirable farms in Lancaster are situated. The houses 
 are comfortable, and some quite handsome, with 
 neat and tastefully kept yards and commodious 
 barns, which indicate that prosperity has attended 
 the efforts of the laborer. 
 
 The " great brook " crosses and winds itself 
 through the green fields on its way to Israel's river. 
 The sun is just sinking behind the Vermont hills, 
 tinging with a rosy light the Pilot Range and Per-
 
 /'//< /.iT//C(is/ft- SAc/i'/i Book. 31 
 
 cy Peaks. How beautiful it is! but already the 
 shadows are creeping down the mountain sides, re- 
 minding us that we must hasten home, and present- 
 ly we timl ourselves at our own door, bringing with 
 u^ pictures of mountains, hills, forest and field, that 
 will live in our memory forever. 
 
 THE BUILDING OF THE FIRST CHURCH 
 IN LANCASTER. 
 
 It was a number of years after the first settlers 
 had found their way to this pleasant valley, and had, 
 by such hardships as only the pioneers in a new 
 country can experience, made for themselves homes 
 by the fertile banks of the Connecticut, and on the 
 rugged hill-sides, before they could raise the means 
 to build a church. 
 
 Religious services had been held in private 
 houses, and after Major Wilder's handsome man- 
 sion was completed, it answered well for that pur- 
 pose. In the year 1791, the question of building a 
 " meeting-house," was considered at the town 
 meeting. A committee of six was appointed to 
 buy six acres on the plain above the sand hill, and
 
 32 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 
 
 inspect the clearing of the same, " for a meeting- 
 house plot." 
 
 Later, a committee was chosen " to propose a plan 
 for the meeting-house." After due consideration 
 the following was recommended: "That the pews 
 be sold at public auction. That each person give 
 his note to the committee, who shall be authorized 
 to receive the pay and appropriate the same. That 
 each person be subjected to the following method 
 of payment: That the whole sum be divided into 
 four parts, to be paid the four next succeeding years. 
 That each person pay six shillings and eight pence 
 on the pound the first year, one half in June, the 
 other in November, the rest to be divided into three 
 equal parts, and paid in November of each year. 
 That four shillings on the pound, be paid in cash, 
 or salts of lye, and the rest in wheat at four shill- 
 ings per bushel, or beef at seventeen shillings and 
 six pence per hundred weight, with this restriction, 
 that the committee shall receive each man's equal 
 proportion of timber, boards, clapboards and shin- 
 gles, if good and merchantable. That each person 
 who buys a>pew, shall procure sufficient bonds for 
 payment, and his obligation shall be lodged in the 
 hands of the chairman of the committee, which 
 shall be taken up or endorsed by a receipt from the 
 committee."
 
 /'//< Lancaster Sketch Book. 33 
 
 These conditions were accepted by the people, 
 and the following men were chosen " to build the 
 meeting-house:" Col. Jonas Wilder, Capt. John 
 \\eeks, Lieut. Emmons Stockwell, Lieut. Joseph 
 Hrackett, Lieut. Dennis Stanley and Capt. David 
 Page. 
 
 It was nearly four years before the church was 
 finished. From the " old Town Hall building," 
 which is the old " meeting-house," one would not 
 suppose it to have been a very imposing edifice, 
 but such it is said to have been. Certainly it was 
 a prominent feature in the landscape, standing on 
 the brow of the hill, which at that time was very 
 steep, like some grim sentinel keeping watch of the 
 little hamlet that clustered in the valley below. It 
 was built with a steeple at one end, two porches, 
 and a broad entrance on the side. There was a 
 gallery, a high pulpit, with a sounding-board sus- 
 pended above. The pews were square, and the 
 seats arranged so they could be raised up when the 
 congregation stood up for prayers, making more 
 room. When the minister said Amen, the clapping 
 of the falling seats made a great clatter. A long 
 flight of steps led up to the entrance for the accom- 
 dation of those who went on foot, and horse-blocks 
 were provided for the mounting and dismounting of
 
 34 The Lancaster Sketch Book, 
 
 those who came on horse-back. 
 
 There was no provision made at all for warming 
 the church. Some of the women carried foot stoves, 
 an arrangement of sheet iron in a wooden frame in 
 which coals could be put. 
 
 In 1794, the question of settling a minister was 
 considered at the town meeting, and a committee of 
 nine persons was selected to " draw proposals for 
 the settlement and salary of the Rev. Joseph 
 Willard." 
 
 At the next town meeting the following report 
 was made: " To give Rev. Joseph Willard fifty 
 pounds a year for the next succeeding three years. 
 This was to increase as the inventory of the town 
 increased, till it reached eighty pounds. To be paid 
 on the first day of March of each year. One third 
 part paid in cash, the other two thirds in produce. 
 On condition that we can get help from the neigh- 
 boring towns as we now expect." 
 
 It was ascertained that the town of Northumber- 
 land would pay ten pounds toward the salary of 
 Mr. Willard, on condition that he would preach a 
 proportion of the time at that place. At the same 
 town meeting that the arrangement in regard to 
 hiring the minister was made, it was voted " to raise 
 twenty-six dollars to be laid out in smoothing the
 
 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 35 
 
 meeting-house plot." It was voted to pay three 
 shillings ami six pence per day, "if they found their 
 board and tools." 
 
 On the iSth of September, 1794, Rev. Joseph 
 Willard was installed as pastor over a church of 
 twenty-four persons, and continued to occupy this 
 position for twenty-eight years. 
 
 Those who remember this gentleman, speak of 
 him in the highest terms of respect. His religious 
 teachings were full of charity and love, and left an 
 abiding influence for good. 
 
 I am told that he was very stately and dignified, 
 with something of a military air which he had ac- 
 quired in the army, and a thorough gentleman of 
 the old school. He continued during his life to ad- 
 here to the fashion of knee-breeches, shoes with sil- 
 ver buckles, and carried a cane. 
 
 " He was a man to all the country dear 
 
 And passing rich with fifty pounds a year. 
 
 Remote from towns he ran his godly race. 
 
 Nor e're had changed, nor wished to change his place; 
 
 But in his duty prompt at every call, 
 
 He watched and wept, he praved and felt for all. 
 
 He tried each art, reproved each dull delav. 
 
 Allured to brighter worlds, and led the wav." 
 
 The following are the names of the ministers that 
 have been settled by the Congregational Society
 
 36 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 
 
 since its commencement, as far as I have been able 
 to ascertain: 
 
 Joseph Willard, Andrew Govan, 
 
 Luke Spofford, Buxton, 
 
 Clark Perry, David Perry, 
 
 Stephen A. Barnard, Isaac Weston, 
 
 E. B. Chamberlain, Prescott Fay, 
 
 Henry V. Emmons, C. E. Harrington, 
 
 C. E. Stunner, S. A. Burnaby. 
 Jason R. Wheelock, 
 
 The names of the deacons were: 
 
 Jonas Baker, Samuel Phelps, 
 
 Joseph Wilder, Reuben W. Freeman, 
 
 Elias Chapman, Porter Freeman, 
 
 William Farrar, Edward C. Spaulding, 
 
 Seth Adams, Azro Burton. 
 William Freeman, 
 
 In 1839, tne cnurc h that is now occupied by the 
 Congregational Society was built. The good and 
 true men who founded this church among the 
 wilds of New Hampshire, have all passed on to 
 " another country," but the church and society have 
 continued to increase in power and numbers, as the 
 years have passed, and many 
 
 " Seek by the path which their fore-fathers trod 
 
 Through the land of their sojourn the kingdom of God."
 
 Tin Lancaster Sketch Book. 37 
 
 THE DRIVE TO NORTHUMBERLAND, 
 RETURNING ON THE VERMONT SIDE OF THE CON- 
 NECTICUT RIYER. 
 
 Some pleasant afternoon in June, when grass and 
 trees are wearing their first freshness of summer, 
 what can be more enjoyable than a drive to North- 
 umberland Falls, returning by way of the Vermont 
 side of the Connecticut river? 
 
 We drive to the North end of Main street, and 
 take the road to the right. Passing the jail, we 
 soon see on our left Baker Pond, once a famous 
 place for pickerel. A little further on, a curve in 
 the road affords us a charming meadow view. 
 Some of these acres of broad intervale that roll 
 away in waves of " living green " to the banks of 
 the Connecticut, belong to the Stockwell farm. We 
 go on past the Fair ground and " the old Bellows 
 place," and soon enter the cool and fragrant pine 
 woods, where only a glimpse of the blue sky is 
 ssen above the rustling tree tops. These woods 
 that seem so delightful on a summer afternoon, 
 was the place where once a robbery was attempted. 
 Mr. Hartwell, a gentleman who formerly resided in 
 Lancaster, owned a very fine horse remarkable for
 
 38 The Lancaster Sketch Book, 
 
 speed. One very dark night, he was driving down 
 to L., when about half through the pine woods, a 
 man sprang from the road-side, caught the horse by 
 the bridle, and presenting a pistol, commanded him 
 to stop. Mr. H. struck the horse a hard blow, he 
 gave a tremendous jump, threw the man down and 
 was off like an arrow, far beyond the reach of the 
 robber, before he had regained his feet. 
 
 A very eccentric man by the name of Ziba Lines 
 once had a home under these pine woods, where he 
 lived many years a hermit's life. I am informed 
 his seclusion from the world was caused by a disap- 
 pointment in love. 
 
 As we go on, we notice on our right, masses of 
 granite rocks, flung up in vast ledges, their sides 
 mossed over, and from the rifts and clefts, bushes 
 and dwarfed hemlocks are growing. Now we pass 
 on our left, acres of level meadow land. In some 
 places the green turf has been turned over, and we 
 conclude from the number of thieving crows, flying 
 near, that corn has been planted there. 
 
 In the distance, but seemingly directly in front of 
 us, are to be seen the twin mountains, known as the 
 " Percy Peaks," whose cone-like tops are conspicu- 
 ous from almost every point of view. Now we are 
 approaching the little village known as The Falls.
 
 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 39 
 
 \\\ hear the hum of the mills along the river side, 
 ;nul see great piles of newly sawed lumber, that per- 
 fumes the air with a piney smell. 
 
 Crossing the long covered bridge, we are in 
 Guildhall, Vt., a small, but pleasantly located vil- 
 lage. We drive through the principal street, noti- 
 cing the comfortable and home-like looking houses. 
 The two churches stand sociably side by side. An- 
 other mile brings us to a turn in the road, where a 
 charming view can be had. On our left we can see 
 a long distance down the river 
 
 " Not unknown to classic song, 
 
 Which still in varying beauty rolls along." 
 
 Not a ripple disturbs the surface of the water, that 
 with mirror-like exactness reflects the trees, that so 
 gracefully fringe its banks. On the right, the rolling 
 hills that further on swell into rugged mountains. 
 On we go with the river on our left all the way. 
 In some places the trees are so large along the 
 bank, that we get only a glimpse of the blue 
 water. Birds are singing blithely, as they flit from 
 tree to tree. The red squirrel runs along the fence. 
 Graceful, feather-like ferns are growing in great 
 clusters in the more shaded places. Now, we are 
 coming to the Ames place. Where can a finer 
 meadow view than this be seen? The river takes a
 
 4-O The Lancaster Sketch Book, 
 
 wide circuit toward New Hampshire, leaving a 
 grand expanse of intervale, dotted thickly with the 
 graceful meadow elm. Beyond the gleaming of 
 the river, Pilot Range perfects the artistic finish of 
 the picture. From this point until the toll bridge is 
 reached, a fine combination of river and mountain 
 scenery is presented. Those who think 
 
 " 'Tis distance lends enchantment to the view, 
 And robes the mountain in its azure hue," 
 
 will enjoy the drive. Crossing the bridge, we are 
 in the Granite State again, and as the 
 
 " Evening shadows are displayed, 
 Evening damps begin to fall," 
 
 arrive at our home, delighted with our drive of 
 twelve miles. 
 
 ZIBA LINES. 
 
 Doubtless there are many in town who remem- 
 ber Ziba Lines, who had a small house situated near 
 the place where the house now occupied by Captain 
 Beattie is standing. 
 
 Mr. Lines came to this town from Charlestown, 
 N. H. He had been at work for a number of years 
 for a wealthy man in that place, and brought quite
 
 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 41 
 
 a Mini of money here with him. When he first 
 came to Lancaster he was fond of society, and used 
 to go to places of amusement, and as he had consid- 
 erable musical ability, was quite noted for singing 
 songs. 
 
 Probably all would have gone on prosperously 
 with Ziba, had he not fallen in love, which, alas! was 
 not reciprocated; the lady would not listen to his 
 suit, and he was unable to say, " Nay, if she loves 
 me not, I care not for her," but brooded over 
 his disappointment until he became a hermit and a 
 miser. 
 
 He bought a number of acres of land, in what is 
 known as the pine woods, built a house which I 
 have mentioned, where he lived isolated from every 
 one. After a few years he became so eccentric that 
 he was considered almost insane, but perfectly harm- 
 less and quiet. 
 
 At one time he invited a number of people to at- 
 tend his wedding, requesting the minister to go to 
 the home of the lady at a certain time, to perform 
 the marriage ceremony. He then went to his lady 
 love, whom he found milking, and told her what he 
 had done. For a reply, she threw the milk, pail 
 and all, at poor Ziba, and ran away. I don't know 
 how the milk bath affected him, but probably it had
 
 42 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 
 
 a quieting affect, as after that he turned his attention 
 more to money. He got all he had exchanged into 
 silver, and kept it in two brown earthen pots, that 
 held about a gallon a piece, and these he usually kept 
 buried in the ground. 
 
 One Sunday the people in the church were sur- 
 prised by seeing Mr. Lines walk up the aisle, with 
 these pots, one under each arm. He deposited them 
 on the table under the pulpit, and remained standing 
 near until the service was over. When he was 
 asked what he had brought the money to church for, 
 he replied that he " had made an offering of it to the 
 Lord," and when someone offered to take care of it, 
 he decided to do so himself. He then carried the 
 pots of money to Mr. Bellows, who lived in the 
 house known as "the old Bellows house." A colored 
 woman was living in the family at that time. She 
 got an empty trunk, and in this Mr. Lines deposited 
 his treasures, taking the key away with him. Some 
 time after, the trunk was opened, and found to con- 
 tain only stones. No one knew when he had taken 
 the money away, but it was ascertained that he 
 went on2 night, carried it away, and buried it some- 
 where in the pine woods, where it is supposed to re- 
 main until this day. 
 
 Mr. Lines had some trouble with a neighbor about
 
 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 43 
 
 a line fence. This man would build a stump fence 
 that would require two yoke of oxen and two men 
 all day to place in position. 
 
 During the night, Mr. Lines would entirely 
 remove it with the help of only one small yoke of 
 steers. 
 
 An immense chain, weighing two hundred pounds, 
 was used by his neighbor in moving the stumps. 
 One night this chain disappeared, but a track across 
 a plowed field to the river bank, indicated it had 
 been drawn across and thrown into the river. 
 The river was dragged, but the chain was never 
 found. 
 
 A few years ago, Emmons Stockwell plowed 
 this chain up, when he was breaking up some 
 land. Mr. Lines had buried it as he did his 
 money. 
 
 As Mr. Lines became old, it was not considered 
 safe for him to live alone. There was a guardian 
 appointed for him, and he was removed to Page Hill, 
 where he died a victim of unrequited love. 
 
 THF DRIVE TO SOUTH LANCASTER. 
 
 The drive to South Lancaster, returning by way 
 of the Vermont side of the Connecticut river, affords
 
 44 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 
 
 some of the most beautiful meadow views in this vi- 
 cinity. 
 
 " The tasseled maize, full grain or clover, 
 
 Far o'er the level meadow grows, 
 And through it, like a wayward rover, 
 The noble river gently flows." 
 
 We go up Baker hill, and after passing several 
 cottages, come to the two story white house, situa- 
 ted on a hill at the left. This house is now occupied 
 by W. H. Hanson, but was built by Parson Willarcl, 
 and known for many years as the parsonage. A 
 little further on, standing on a hill remote from any 
 building, we notice the little brick powder house,, 
 formerly owned by the State, and the powder for 
 the guns that used to be stored in the old arsenal, on 
 the opposite side of the road, was kept there, but 
 since the old militia system was abolished, the arse- 
 nal has been made into a stable, and the powder 
 house sold to R. P. Kent, Son & Co., who used it 
 for storing powder. We drive along what used to 
 be the old stage road to Littleton. Ah! how well 
 we remember those morning rides, long before day- 
 light, in the lumbering old stage coach, with Jim 
 Pool for a driver. Surely it is a good thing that 
 the world moves, that the mai'ch of improvement 
 has rendered that twenty mile drive to reach the
 
 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 45 
 
 cars, unnecessary. We pass neat, home-like looking 
 farm houses. On the right are the broad meadows, 
 and just beyond the silvery gleaming of the river, 
 are the cultivated lands, farm houses and hills of 
 Vermont, making up an ideal landscape view of in- 
 tervale, river and mountain. 
 
 Presently we come to the Brackett hill, and 
 see on our left, the old brick house cosily situated 
 at the foot of it, with broad, spreading butternut 
 trees at one side. \Ve pass the bridge over the 
 brook, that winds in and out with many a curve, 
 through the pasture on the left, and a little farther 
 on, we come to the old flat-roofed house, shaded by 
 elms, formerly the home of Major John W. Weeks, 
 one of the first settlers of Lancaster. Major Weeks 
 won his military title at the battle of Chippewa, 
 being promoted from Captain to the rank of Ma- 
 jor for gallant conduct at that time. The road is 
 smooth and level, we drive briskly along, getting a 
 glimpse of the " shining river" through the dense 
 foliage of the trees, pass the little brick school-house, 
 and soon come to the " White farm." From the pe- 
 culiar curve the river takes at this point, this farm 
 has always been called the Catbow. 
 
 Soon after the revolutionary war, Major Moses 
 White, of Rutland, Mass., was rewarded for the
 
 46 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 
 
 honor and ability with which he had filled the high 
 position in the continental army, to which he had 
 been called, by receiving from the government, 
 through General Hazen, this tract of land where he 
 fixed his residence, and passed the remainder of his 
 life, leaving the farm to his descendants at his death, 
 by whom it was occupied for many years. On we 
 go over this pleasant river road, passing farm houses, 
 ana acres of meadow land on the right, pastures 
 and cultivated fields on the left, with now and then 
 patches of woodland, until we come in sight of a 
 railway station, and a few other buildings at South 
 Lancaster. 
 
 Turning to the right, we cross the railroad track, 
 and the covered bridge that spans the Connecticut, 
 and are in Vermont. The views along the home- 
 ward drive are unsurpassed. From the brick house, 
 now known as the " Rowell place," formerly owned 
 by Reuben Benton, to the " Stone farm," a distance 
 of about one mile, the scenery is more picturesque 
 than at any other point during the drive. Here, 
 for a long distance the. Connecticut is seen winding 
 in graceful curves through the broad intervales. 
 The varied tints of green displayed in grass, grain 
 and foliage, all bathed in the golden sunlight of a 
 summer afternoon, make a picture that must be
 
 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 47 
 
 seen to be appreciated. On we go over the pleasant 
 country road, sometimes through bits of woods, 
 full of hemlock, pine, and spruce, that perfume the 
 air with a spicy odor, then out into the sunshine, 
 where we see the regal golden rod waving its plumy 
 head among the raspberry and blackberry bushes at 
 the roadside. In some places the purple aster is 
 beginning to fringe the way, and the wild clematis^ 
 to trail its graceful vines over the fences. A gold- 
 en robin is perched on the swaying limb of a tree in 
 front of us, singing a merry song, and the meadow 
 lark skims over the green fields rejoicing as he 
 flies. 
 
 Now we are passing the " Clark farm," owned 
 by Deacon Carlton, and presently the " old Hopkins 
 place " comes into view, now the property of the 
 Rhodes Brothers, two fine specimens of Connecti- 
 cut river farms. A charming back ground for these 
 broad meadows, is formed by the rich rolls of culti- 
 vated land, on " Stebbins hill," and other hills that 
 have no name. Flashes of sunlight turn acres of 
 woods on Mt. Prospect and Mt. Pleasant into 
 patches of shining satin. The White mountains, 
 Pilot Range and Percy Peaks, that now seem al- 
 most in front of us, are bathed in glorious sunset 
 hues, of rose gold and purple ; but we are approach-
 
 48 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 
 
 ing the old toll bridge, and are reminded that it is 
 almost supper time, and as the old farmer wisely 
 remarked, "folks can't live on scenery," we rapidly 
 finish our delightful drive. 
 
 RICHARD C. EVERETT. 
 
 In November, 1787, a little party of emigrants 
 might have been seen slowly wending their way 
 through the woods toward Upper Coos. 
 
 There were only four persons, two men and one 
 woman, and a little child, which the younger of the 
 men, who was about eighteen, carried in his arms. 
 The other man led a horse upon whose back was 
 fastened a heavy load, and upon his own back was 
 a pack. 
 
 The names of these persons were Mr. and Mrs. 
 Blake and child, the young man was Richard C. 
 Everett, who afterward became the first lawyer of 
 Lancaster. As Richard had but little of his own to 
 carry, the baby become his burden instead of its 
 mother's. 
 
 On the 1 9th of October of the same year, 
 Richard had been discharged from service in the 
 revolutionary war at Yorktown among many others 
 whose services were no long-er needed.
 
 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 49 
 
 Being an orphan and almost without friends, he 
 had enlisted two years previous, when only sixteen 
 years of age. During the first year he saw much 
 hardship and privation. The short allowance of 
 food, poor clothing and hard work, soon changed 
 the robust and healthy boy so much, that even his 
 mother, had she been alive, would hardly have 
 known him. One dav he was sent to General 
 Washington's headquarters on some errand. The 
 youthful appearance and sad condition of the poor 
 boy attracted the General's sympathy. He enquired 
 who he was and why he was there. After hearing 
 his story, he was so kind as to take him into his per- 
 sonal service, where his duties were much lighter. 
 After leaving the army he returned to Providence, 
 his native place, and being entirely dependent upon 
 his own exertions for a living, was looking febout for 
 some employment, when a proposition was made 
 him by Mr. Blake, with whom he was acquainted, 
 to go with him to Upper Coos, where it was report- 
 ed that good land was cheap, and emigrants were 
 wanted. 
 
 This Richard decided to do, and the little party 
 started on their long tramp to seek their fortune in 
 the wilds of Upper Coos. 
 
 Weary and foot-sore, this little band were over-
 
 50 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 
 
 joyed when just at night-fall on the twelfth day of 
 their long march, they saw from a slight eminence 
 they had reached, the smoke rising from some log 
 houses in the valley beneath them, and knew 
 they had at last arrived at Lancaster, their destina- 
 tion. 
 
 They had been directed to go to Major Wilder, 
 who promised to be a kind of father to the new set- 
 tlers. He gave them a hospitable welcome, and as 
 he had been wanting to get some men to draw salt 
 from Portland, before many days, Mr. Blake and 
 Richard had agreed to work for him during the 
 winter. 
 
 Before they could commence their labors, howev- 
 er, a road had to be made through the Notch suffi- 
 ciently wide for a sled to pass through. The road 
 at that time being hardly more than a foot path. 
 This was done by Mr. Blake and Richard, assisted 
 bv one other man. 
 
 During the winter Richard saved all he could of 
 his earnings, as he had made up his mind he would 
 have an education. Perhaps Persis, daughter of 
 Major Wilder, whom he afterward married, in- 
 spired him to make this decision. In the spring he 
 went to Hanover, where he managed by hard work 
 and economy to prepare himself for college, and he
 
 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 51 
 
 determined to take a collegiate course, although his 
 resources were limited to good health and willing 
 hands. Hut, after all these years of hardship, the 
 way was unexpectedly opened to him. One day in 
 looking over a Boston paper, he saw an advertise- 
 ment wanting information of the heirs of Richard 
 Everett, formerly of Providence. Richard knew 
 it must mean his father. lie immediately wrote to 
 the address given, and in reply was informed that 
 he must go to Providence and prove that he was 
 the son of Richard Everett, in which case quite a 
 sum of money was ready to be paid to him. 
 
 This he did, having no difficulty in proving him- 
 self the rightful heir. 
 
 In surveying and laying out the city of Provi- 
 dence, it had been found that several lots of land be- 
 longed to Richard Everett. These had been sold 
 to good advantage; so Richard found himself pos- 
 sessed of sufficient means to finish his education, and 
 have something left. 
 
 After graduating, he studied law, and in 1793 re- 
 turned to Lancaster, and began the practice of his 
 profession. He was married to Versis Wilder, 
 December 7, 1793, after an engagement of nine 
 years. 
 
 They had seven children, all daughters, none of 
 whom are now livin<r.
 
 52 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 
 
 Judge Everett built the house known as the 
 " Cross place," where he resided until his death, 
 which occurred on the 22nd of March, 1815. 
 
 He was successful as a lawyer, became judge of 
 the Court of Common Pleas, and afterwards judge 
 of the Supreme Court, which office he held for 
 many years. 
 
 THE DRIVE TO STEBBINS HILL. 
 
 The view from Stebbins Hill is one of the most 
 charming in this vicinity. 
 
 Driving up Baker Hill, and along the river road 
 for a mile and a half, we come to a turn on our 
 left, which we will take. 
 
 The road soon begins to be ascending, but 
 smooth and hard. Presently we come to the 
 " Emerson place," formerly owned by Captain John 
 Weeks, who was the first to settle on this hill 
 land. 
 
 Perhaps one reason for choosing this high land, 
 was owing to the freshets that every spring delayed 
 the cultivation of the intervales until frequently as 
 late as June, and perhaps the exceedingly lovely 
 view from this hill was the attraction. 
 
 On the right, a short distance above the " Emer-
 
 T/tc Lancaster Sketch Book. 53 
 
 son place," is the old Mclntire farm, settled by John 
 Mclntirc, who came to this town in 1794, married 
 for his first wife Sally Stockwell, daughter of Em- 
 mons Stockwell, one of the first settlers of the town. 
 Mr. Mclntire was quite a remarkable man. He 
 could neither read nor write, but invented a method 
 of computing interest, and " dod sir," was his fav- 
 orite expression, he always was correct in his cal- 
 culations. He accumulated quite a large property, 
 which he divided equally among his sixteen children 
 before his death. 
 
 On we go still up, about a mile above the Mcln- 
 tire place the road turns to the left. On the right, 
 just at the crown, but somewhat back, is the "Steb- 
 bins place," formerly owned by Edward Spaulding, 
 who was the son of Phineas and Phebe Spaulding, 
 who settled in the town of Northumberland, in the 
 year 1769. Mrs. Spaulding was a descendant of 
 the famous Mrs. Dustin and was a woman of great 
 courage and determination. Edward Spaulding was 
 brought in his mother's arms from Haverhill to 
 Northumberland, through the wilderness, alone, 
 with only spotted trees for a guide. 
 
 The road is getting prettv steep, but a few more 
 rods brings to just the right point for the view. The 
 scene is beautiful and picturesque, and one that will 
 live in the memory forever.
 
 54 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 
 
 The windings of the Connecticut can be traced 
 many miles, through the broad, green, beautiful 
 meadows, waving with grass, and grain and 
 patches of glistening corn, reminding us that though 
 among the beauties of nature, the hand of man has 
 added something to its charms. 
 
 From east to west a mighty chain of mountains 
 swells gracefully along the horizon. The most dis- 
 tant seem to touch the heavens and lose themselves 
 amid the clouds. 
 
 Below us, cosily situated in the green valley, the 
 houses of the village of L. gleam white in the af- 
 ternoon sunshine. 
 
 A little more than a hundred years have passed 
 along the course of time, since how changed was the 
 scene ! 
 
 The same river, hills and mountains were here, 
 and will still stand unchanged, unchanging through 
 ages yet to come. But yonder village, and the 
 comfortable farm houses, surrounded by acres of 
 cultivated land, where were they? 
 
 Lancaster was a wilderness, and Indian hunters 
 strode along its hills and valleys. The wild deer 
 lapped the water of the river that flowed sparkling 
 through the meadows beneath us. 
 
 Where the village now stands, the smoke from a
 
 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 55 
 
 few log cabins of the first settlers curled above the 
 trees of the forest. 
 
 Who can reflect upon the changes that have al- 
 ready been, without turning the mind toward the 
 future? Slowly we drive along, reluctant to leave 
 this beautiful prospect, but 
 
 ' The western waves of ebbing dav," 
 
 remind us that it is time we were on our way home. 
 We go on, descending the hill on the opposite side 
 from which we came, and soon turn into the 
 Whitefield road, reaching the village by way of the 
 Sand hill. We are sure that all who have seen this 
 view from this hill at a fitting hour in the afternoon, 
 and through a favoring air, will agree with the old 
 gentleman who remarked to some city boarders, " I 
 tell 'cm if they want to see scenyury, Stebbins hill is 
 the place." 
 
 PHEBE SPAULDING. 
 
 A great deal has been written in a general way, 
 of the hardships endured by the first settlers of New 
 England. 
 
 When we read of the Puritan Fathers landing on 
 the " stern and rock-bound coast " of Massachusetts,
 
 56 77ie Lancaster Sketch Book. 
 
 and their trials and privations, we are filled with 
 wonder and admiration at the courage and determi- 
 nation displayed by them, but occasionally there 
 will come to us from the dim and distant past, tra- 
 ditions of courage and fortitude borne by our ances- 
 tors of a later day, that are equally as wonderful. 
 
 The following narrative, which is true, illustrates 
 this in a forcible manner, and gives us some idea of 
 what the women of that early day endured. 
 
 In the year 1769, a party of emigrants started 
 from Londonderry, in the southern part of New 
 Hampshire, for Upper Coos of the same state, the 
 distance being about one hundred and fifty miles. 
 
 Glowing accounts had come to them of the fer- 
 tile lands on the banks of the Connecticut that could 
 be had for almost nothing, and inspired by the hope 
 of winning a home and perhaps a fortune in this 
 unbroken wilderness, they decided, notwithstanding 
 the great hardships they would have to endure, to 
 
 go- 
 Packing bedding and a few household utensils on 
 
 the backs of horses, and each with as much as they 
 
 could carry, they started from Londonderry the first 
 
 of May. 
 
 Among the number was a young man, Phineas 
 
 Spaulding, his wife, Phebe, who was a descendant
 
 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 57 
 
 of the famous Mrs. Dustin, and one child about one 
 year and a half old. 
 
 They had not much to take with them, save stout 
 hearts, and plenty of courage and hope. 
 
 The one precious thing Phebe had, was a copper 
 tea-kettle, that had been brought from England by 
 her mother, who was dead. This kettle, which 
 would hold about three quarts, was packed full of 
 packages of tea, pepper, spices and garden seeds, 
 and was altogether too valuable to be entrusted out 
 of her hands; so she started with her baby boy, Ed- 
 ward, in her arms, and carrying the tea-kettle, to 
 walk a hundred and fifty miles. 
 
 She was a small, pretty looking woman, with 
 brown hair and hazel eyes, and possessed wonder- 
 ful power of endurance. She was graceful and ag- 
 ile in her movements. I have been told that when 
 she wished to mount a horse, she would put her 
 hand on his shoulder and jump from the ground to 
 his back. 
 
 It was just at night-fall on the fifth day after this 
 little party left Londonderry, that they approached 
 the small settlement of Haverhill. The remainder 
 of the way was through the wilderness, where their 
 only guide would he marked trees. The emigrants 
 were hospitably entertained bv the people of Haver-
 
 5 8 The Lancaster Sketch Book, 
 
 hill, and were urged to remain a few days and rest, 
 but they were anxious to get to their journey's end, 
 and only stayed one night. 
 
 In the hurry of getting started the next morning, 
 Mrs. Spaulding put her baby on the floor, while she 
 was arranging something, and he being left to him- 
 self, crept to the hearth and pulled a kettle of hot 
 water over, and before his mother could reach him, 
 his feet were scalded. 
 
 Of course this accident prevented Mrs. Spaulding 
 from going on, and it was decided after a consulta- 
 tion with others, for her to remain a few days. It 
 would be necessary for some one to return to Hav- 
 erhill for some meal, so Mr. Spaulding told his 
 wife to wait patiently, and he would come for her 
 as soon as he could. Phebe saw her friends depart 
 with much regret, and watched them until they 
 were lost from sight in the wood. 
 
 It proved that the baby was not very badly burned, 
 and Mrs. Spaulding was sorry that she had not gone 
 on with the others, but she waited as patiently as 
 she could, until the time had passed when her hus- 
 band should have returned for her. As the days 
 went by, and he did not come, she resolved she 
 would wait no longer, but go on alone. 
 
 The people she was with, endeavored to persuade
 
 77/r Lancaster Sketch Book. 59 
 
 her to remain until her husband came for her, but 
 from all accounts, Phebe had a will of her own, and 
 would not consent to remain, but started with her 
 baby, and carrying the tea-kettle and a good supply 
 of food, for a walk of fifty miles, through a dense 
 woods. Undaunted by fear of wild animals or In- 
 dians, she marched bravely on, her only guide the 
 spotted trees. Think of this young, but plucky 
 little woman, starting with a helpless baby in her 
 arms, and knowing she would have to remain over 
 night in the woods, to walk through the wilderness 
 alone. 
 
 On she went, noticing with pleasure, the signs of 
 spring on every side. The brown buds just bursting, 
 and the tender green leaves peeping out. She 
 thought of the garden she would have, planted with 
 the seeds she had in her tea-kettle. Then she would 
 beguile the weary way, with snatches of songs or 
 strains from some old hymns she had heard her 
 mother sing, until I think the birds must have hushed 
 their songs to listen to this strange music. 
 
 Just as the sun's declining rays gave warning that 
 the day was almost gone, Phebe came to a pond, 
 now called " Streeter's Pond," which she must ford; 
 concluding to wait till morning before crossing, she 
 began to look around for some place to spend the
 
 60 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 
 
 night. Presently the twisted trunk of an old hem- 
 lock caught her sight. It was crooked in such a 
 way that it formed a kind of cradle. She fixed a 
 bed out of some boughs and laid the baby, who was 
 asleep, in this novel cradle. Then she dug a hole 
 in the ground close by the tree, and put the tea-ket- 
 tle in, covering it carefully, so the Indians, should 
 they come, would not get it. 
 
 She ate her supper, and laid down by her baby r 
 not meaning to go to sleep. Long she lay gazing 
 up through the branches of the trees, at the stars 
 twinkling in the sky, and listened to the hoot of the 
 owl, and screech of the catamount, but her walk of 
 twenty-five miles, and carrying the baby, had tired 
 her so she could not keep awake, and commending 
 her baby and herself to him " whose eye never slum- 
 bers or sleeps," she fell into a dreamless slumber. 
 
 When she awoke the day was breaking, and the 
 birds had already commenced their morning concert. 
 She arose from her uncomfortable bed, feeling lame 
 and unrefreshed, but thankful the night had been 
 passed in safety. She ate her breakfast, resurrect- 
 ed her tea-kettle, and was soon on her way. She 
 was determined not to pass another night in the 
 woods alone, and went on as far as she could, only 
 stopping a little while to rest, and eat her dinner.
 
 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 61 
 
 Just at dark, when she was beginning to think she 
 would not be able to go on, as she could not see the 
 marked trees, the path began to widen, and as she 
 reached the top of a hill, she almost shouted for jov, 
 for in a little valley :>t the foot of the hill, were a 
 few log houses, and from the open door of one, she 
 could see the cheerful gleams of firelight; how 
 pleasant it looked to the chilled, exhausted woman. 
 Pressing on, she directed her steps to that house, 
 and was kindly received by the inmates; from them 
 she learned that she had reached Lancaster, but her 
 destination was six miles farther on. Gladly she 
 accepted their hospitality until morning, when she 
 finished her journey, arriving at Northumberland 
 about noon, giving her husband, who was just mak- 
 ing preparations to go for her, a great surprise. 
 Phebe found her anxiety had been needless. Mr. 
 Spaulding bad delayed going back to Haverhill un- 
 til he had put up a rude log house, so Phebe found 
 a home awaiting her, and they were soon settled at 
 housekeeping. Their furniture was of the rudest 
 kind, all being home-made. But her tea-kettle sang 
 just as cheerfully on her humble hearth, as it had 
 done in her childhood's home, and she would sit be- 
 fore the fire, holding her baby, and think of the 
 time when, instead of the woods that now encom-
 
 62 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 
 
 passed their house, fields of waving grass and corn 
 would be seen, and their log house exchanged for a 
 nice framed building. 
 
 She had planted her garden, and already the seeds 
 were springing up; but there were times when it 
 looked very dark to the poor emigrants. The In- 
 dians were troublesome, food was not plenty, 
 indeed their chief dependence was upon hunting 
 and fishing. Some of the party were anxious to 
 return to Londonderry, and Mr. Spaulding would 
 have been easily persuaded to have done so, had it 
 not been for his wife. It is said that she was set- 
 ting out some cabbage plants in her garden one af- 
 ternoon, when some of those who wished to return 
 came to talk the matter over; but Phebe put her 
 hoe down decidedly, and told them " all to go, every 
 one; she never would." 
 
 She felt sure it only required patience and perse- 
 verance, to make that " wilderness blossom like the 
 rose." 
 
 It happened one time during that first year, that 
 Mr. Spaulding had gone hunting, to be gone two 
 or three days, leaving Phebe and the baby -alone. 
 As it began to be dark, she thought she would take 
 her baby and gc to the nearest neighbor's, which 
 was about a mile, but decided she would not be so
 
 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 63 
 
 foolish, and going to the door to close and fasten it, 
 six Indians confronted her. 
 
 They had approached the house so noiselessly she 
 had not heard them. Her heart sank within her as 
 she saw them, hut trying to speak as if she had no 
 fear, she inquired what they wanted ; they informed 
 her; " they had come to her house to have a pow- 
 wow." Prohahly surprise parties had not come in 
 fashion then, and Phebe was rather embarrassed at 
 the announcement, but knowing that she must not 
 offend the Indians by refusing, bade them come in. 
 
 They seated themselves around the fire, inviting 
 Phebe to join them, and not daring to refuse, she sat 
 down with them, holding her baby in her arms. 
 The Indians had plenty of " fire water," and com- 
 menced drinking, passing the bottle to Phebe, would 
 say, "brave white squaw no 'fraid drink firewater." 
 She would make a pretence of accepting their offer 
 and to appear as if she was not frightened. For 
 hours the Indians kept up a perfect bedlam, until 
 one by one they were overcome by the " fire wa- 
 ter," and sank into a drunken stupor. Through 
 the whole night Mrs. Spaulding sat there holding 
 her child. 
 
 In the morning the Indians aroused from their 
 sleep and crept out of the house. Ever after that
 
 64 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 
 
 Mrs. Spaulding was considered a heroine by them, 
 and called the " brave white squaw," and they ex- 
 pressed their admiration of her behavior to them, 
 by bringing her presents of game, fish and corn. 
 Mrs. Spaulding's dream was fulfilled; she saw the 
 wilderness disappear before the ax of the woodman, 
 and thrifty farms and comfortable homes take its 
 place. 
 
 She lived to be about eighty, leaving many de- 
 scendants to cherish her memorv. The copper tea- 
 kettle is in the possession of a great-great-grand- 
 daughter, who considers it one of her household 
 treasures. 
 
 THE DRIVE AROUND MT. PROSPECT. 
 
 Of all short drives in this vicinity, the one around 
 Mt. Prospect affords the grandest mountain views. 
 
 We drive up the Sand Hill, and along the Jeffer- 
 son road for a mile, passing on the right, Holton 
 Hill, and on the left, getting a charming view of 
 the Pilot range, and the "outcast" part of the 
 town. We also notice, close to the roadside on the 
 left, a number of acres of smooth green grass, slop- 
 ing toward Israel's river, whose course through the 
 narrow valley can be traced by the trees and bushes
 
 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 65 
 
 that fringe its banks; this land is quite a contrast to 
 the rugged rocky pastures on either side of it, which 
 are samples of what this was, before the rocks and 
 stones had been removed, and built into the sub- 
 stantial wall that surrounds it. Just in front, we 
 get a grand view of the White Mountains. 
 
 Presently we arrive at a road leading to the right, 
 which is our way. We now have Mt. Pleasant di- 
 rectly in front, Mt. Prospect a little to the left of it. 
 The road is gradually ascending until we arrive at 
 the " Freeman place," on the top of the hill. From 
 this point we get a most beautiful view of the cul- 
 tivated land, extending from the base half way up 
 the side of Mt. Prospect. A maple grove, enclosed 
 by a stone wall, stands stately and graceful, among 
 the patches of corn, vellow rye and half ripened 
 oats, and above all the tree-crowned summit of the 
 mountain, making a ir.ost perfect landscape picture. 
 A short distance beyond the " Freeman place," we 
 turn to the left, and are on the direct road around 
 Mt. Prospect. 
 
 How delightfully shady and pleasant it is! What 
 a profusion of growth there is about us! Moisture 
 and the right proportion of light and shade, give 
 here the best conditions for the growth of the fern, 
 which can be found in the woods on the right, grow
 
 66 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 
 
 ing in great quantities and variety. The rare spec- 
 imen known as the maiden hair, is found here in 
 abundance; this locality is quite noted as the only 
 place in the vicinity of Lancaster where this fern 
 can be found. 
 
 As we go on, the trees on either side increase in 
 size, until the over hanging branches almost meet. 
 The birds seem to think the top of these swaying 
 trees a splendid place to practice their songs; the 
 " dim woods " ring with their blithesome singing, 
 and the red squirrel runs about in a pert, nimble way, 
 or sits up to nibble a choice bit he has found, with 
 his tail held gi'acefully over his back. On the right, 
 we notice among the trees, masses or ledges of rocks, 
 piled in some places to a considerable height, cov- 
 ered with beautiful green moss; in some places the 
 rents and fissures contain soil, from which shrubs 
 and even small trees are growing. Emerging from 
 this lovely piece of woods, we come to a breadth of 
 open country. On the left, beyond the undulating 
 acres of the farm now owned by Mr. Johnson, but 
 originally settled and occupied for many years by a 
 man known as " Quaker Eastman," we can see the 
 village of Jefferson, with Mt. Starr King, rising 
 above it; a little to the right is Bray Hill, and tow- 
 ering grandly over all, are the White and Franconia 
 mountain ranges.
 
 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 67 
 
 We drive on, passing on the right a brook, that 
 comes hurrying down the hillside, as if in haste to 
 join the "brimming river." Now we pass on the 
 left, the *' old Lovejoy farm," long the home of 
 Abial Lovejoy, father of John Lovejoy, a former 
 resident of Lancaster. The place is now owned by 
 Mr. Alexander. 
 
 On the opposite side a little farther along, we ar- 
 rive at the Bucknam place. This farm was settled 
 by Edward Bucknam, and was his home during his 
 life. Mrs. Sarah Bucknam, his widow, is still liv- 
 ing in the old home, at the advanced age of ninety- 
 seven, and is, I am informed, the oldest woman in 
 town. She retains her memory in a remarkable 
 manner, and can read, sew and knit, as well as many 
 much younger women. This farm is now in the 
 possession of Mr. Jacobs, a son-in-law of Mrs. 
 Bucknam. The quantity and quality of the butter 
 made on this farm, is quite celebrated. 
 
 On the same side of the road a few rods beyond, 
 we come to the old Week's place, which is situated 
 on the slope, but near the base of Mt. Prospect, 
 and is now known as " Prospect farm." This place 
 was settled and house erected by James B. Weeks, 
 father of Judges James W. and William D. Weeks. 
 In what used to be the kitchen, the original fire-
 
 68 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 
 
 place still remains; and in the front hall, there is a 
 stair-case and railing, made by Judge James W. 
 Weeks. 
 
 In selecting this situation, on which to -build his 
 house, Mr. Weeks certainly displayed a taste for 
 grand mountain scenery. There is not a spot in 
 town, where the White Mountain and Franconia 
 ranges can be seen so boldly outlined, as from this 
 raised plateau in front of Prospect farm house. A 
 broad sweep of rolling hills, pastures and cultivated 
 fields, with stately groves of maple and dark pine, 
 stretch away for miles in front of the house. Be- 
 yond, on the left, we see Jefferson village with the 
 Pilot range for a back-ground, nearly in front Bray 
 Hill and Cherry Mountain, on the left the village 
 of Bethlehem with Mt. Agassiz just beyond it. 
 Majestically rising above all, are the White and 
 Franconia mountains, at just the right distance to 
 display the confederate strength of the chain, and 
 mellow the gorges and ravines that channel their 
 sides into beauty and grandeur. We need no tele- 
 scope to enable us to see the road winding up Mt. 
 Washington, and the house at the top is plainly dis- 
 cernable. The long serrated summit of Mt. Lafay- 
 ette is seen to better advantage from this point, than 
 from any place we know of in this vicinity. Many
 
 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 69 
 
 vears ago, there used to be a beaver meadow on 
 the opposite side of the road from this house, but all 
 traces of it have long since disappeared. 
 
 Many improvements have been made at Prospect 
 Farm the last few years by the present owner, Mr. 
 George P. Rowell. Stones and rocks removed 
 from the land and built into substantial walls. Trees 
 planted. A flower garden artistically laid out. A 
 beautiful maple grove just back of the house cleared 
 of underbrush, and with hammocks and seats, affords 
 a charming retreat for a summer day. Commodi- 
 ous barns and out-buildings have been erected, and 
 short-horned cattle, Shropshire-down sheep, and 
 Berkshire swine, are taking the place of the com- 
 mon stock. 
 
 Reluctantly we turn away from this grand view, 
 and drive on. We are now on the opposite side of 
 Mt. Prospect, the road winding along between Mt. 
 Prospect and Pleasant. The view driving down 
 this road to the village, it is down all the way, is 
 very lovely, and quite different from the prospect 
 we had going. We now see broad meadows 
 extending for miles toward the north and west, 
 the Connecticut winding in graceful curves through 
 the green verdure; beyond the tree-crowned hills, 
 rise the mountain ranges of Vermont, the hazy
 
 yo The Lancaster Sketch Book. 
 
 summits mingling with the wonderful blue of the 
 summer sky. 
 
 The houses of the village clustering in the valley, 
 the red roof of the Lancaster House easily distin- 
 guished from the others. The tapering church 
 spires pointing upward, and all illuminated with a 
 golden glow, from the sun, slowly sinking behind 
 the hills, make another beautiful picture to hang on 
 the walls of our memory. 
 
 We come into the village from the Whitefield 
 road, and drive down the Sand Hill, rattle over the 
 bridge, reaching our home as 
 
 " All the sky is grand with clouds, 
 
 And athwart the evening air 
 Wheel the swallows home in crowds." 
 
 OUR " BUNKER HILL." 
 
 Probably there are many in our village, who are 
 not familiar with the story which caused the hill on 
 the left of Summer street to receive the appelation 
 of Bunker Hill." 
 
 The facts in regard to the origin of the name are 
 as follows:
 
 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 71 
 
 Many years ago there resided in our town a man 
 of great muscular strength, who from his youth up 
 had been the conqueror in feats of strength and 
 wrestling matches. 
 
 The Fourth of July and muster days, were 
 occasions on which he displayed his prowess, and 
 won his laurels. 
 
 One fall, when the annual muster was in progress 
 on Holton meadow, and people had come in large 
 numbers to witness the military display, this man, 
 whom I have mentioned, met his first rival. 
 
 There appeared that day upon the scene, a man 
 of splendid physique, young and agile. He had re- 
 cently returned from a whaling voyage, and alto- 
 gether was considered quite a hero. Very jealously 
 this young athlete was watched as he displayed his 
 gymnastic powers, by the man who was no longer 
 young, but who until to-day had born the palm 
 of victory alone; now he must admit he had a 
 rival. 
 
 It was suggested, that there should be a wrestling 
 match between these two, but the older man decided 
 that was not the place for a real trial of strength. 
 Before the day had passed, it had been arranged in 
 a confidential manner between these two, that they 
 would meet the next morning at sunrise, on the hill
 
 72 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 
 
 I have mentioned, and settle which was the best 
 man in a good square fight. 
 
 It chanced that a boy overheard the making of 
 this arrangement, and before sunrise next morning, 
 many a stump, stone and tree, on the hill, concealed 
 an expectant spectator. Punctually the men arrived 
 on i he spot, and a hard contested battle was fought, 
 resulting in the defeat of the veteran of so many 
 fights and wrestling matches. 
 
 This was too much for the boys, who burst into a 
 loud hurrah, as they scampered down the hill to tell 
 the great news that Old Blank had been whipped at 
 last. 
 
 Ever since that morning the scene of this contest 
 has been called " Bunker Hill." 
 
 THE DRIVE TO EGYPT. 
 
 Of the two beautiful meadow drives in this vicin- 
 ity, perhaps the one to " Egypt " through the Con- 
 necticut river meadows, to the " William Weeks 
 place," affords more variety of scenery than the one 
 to the " Stock well meadows:" however, both are 
 most charming drives. In going to " Egypt," we
 
 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 73 
 
 lea\e the village by the Baker Hill, taking the sec- 
 ond turn to the right, we soon pass, on the left, the 
 old arsenal; being no longer required for the store- 
 house of war-like equipments, it has become the 
 peaceful abode of Mr. Streeter's horse. 
 
 Directly in front is a beautiful view of rolling 
 meadows, and further on the green hills of Ver- 
 mont. On the right the " twin peaks " stand like 
 sentinels guarding Cape Horn. 
 
 We soon arrive at a point where the road diverg- 
 es to the right and left. The left is our way. Just 
 at the turn we pass on the right, on a sunny hill- 
 side, the Catholic cemetery. We are now on the 
 road to " Egypt." This title arising, so I am in- 
 formed, by the failure, many years ago, of the corn 
 crop in this town, save that which was planted in 
 this vicinity, which grew in a remarkable way and 
 yielded abundantly. 
 
 As the people were obliged to come here for corn, 
 thev were probably reminded of the story in the 
 Old Testament of Joseph's brethren who were sent 
 to Egypt to buy corn. In this way the name was 
 acquired, and ever since, the drive in this direction 
 has been called "going to Egypt." The road is level 
 and smooth, bordered on each side by green fields 
 radiant with buttercups and elder flowers.
 
 74 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 
 
 We soon come to the " Chessman place " on the 
 right. This farm was first settled by a man by the 
 name of Bruce. Just on the opposite side of the 
 road is the " Brooks farm." 
 
 The highway ends here, but by the courtesy of the 
 owners of the land, people are allowed to drive on 
 by the bank of the river and through the meadow, 
 to the highway. 
 
 On our right the shining river rolls along, its 
 banks o'erhung with alders and birch. Just on the 
 other side we see the old Hopkins place, now owned 
 by the Rhodes brothers. 
 
 Eighteen noble elms stand gracefully grouped 
 together in the foreground, making a beautiful and 
 conspicuous featiu-e in the landscape. Long 
 may they be spared from the relentless ax and 
 saw. 
 
 On our left the broad meadow rolls away for a 
 mile. Dancing shadows of light and shade from 
 the great banks of soft, white clouds, that float 
 majestically through the sky, chase each other over 
 the billowy grass. 
 
 Gradually the ground rises from this green plane, 
 and we see the farms on the slope of Mt. Pleasant 
 and Stebbins' hill. The color of the different har- 
 vests contrast pleasantly with the dark green of the
 
 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 75 
 
 pine trees that cover the hillsides. Above all, Mt. 
 Prospect looks down like some patriarch over the 
 wide family of hills settled comfortably about 
 him. 
 
 Far away to the west the horizon is framed with 
 hills, the most distant seem to touch " high heaven," 
 and lose themselves amid the clouds. 
 
 We drive on through this sea of green, ar- 
 riving at the South Lancaster road just by the 
 Weeks place." 
 
 Turning to our left, we are on the way to the vil- 
 lage, soon passing on our right the " Brackett 
 place," and on the left the farms of Messrs. Hil- 
 liard and Woodward, formerly owned by Rowell 
 brothers. 
 
 Going along another mile and a half, we see the 
 village cosily situated along a level plane, just un- 
 der the rim of the hills, presenting from this view 
 an entirely different aspect than from Sand 
 Hill. 
 
 From the top of Baker Hill we get a fine point of 
 the White Mountains and Pilot range. 
 
 This drive should be considered one of the most 
 delightful short drives, affording , as it does, 
 varied and charming views of river, meadows and 
 mountains.
 
 76 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 
 
 A TRUE STORY. 
 
 The following incident which I am about to re- 
 late is true, but all who were interested in the oc- 
 currence, save one, departed many years ago, on 
 that " long journey from whence none ever return." 
 
 No doubt all who are acquainted with the sur- 
 roundings of the village, have noticed four very 
 handsome elm trees, that stand near a little brook,, 
 on the south-east corner of the lot now owned by 
 Parker J. Noyes. These trees were set out about 
 seventy years ago, by a woman of the name of 
 Hart, who had a rude little cottage near there. 
 
 No trace of the humble home remains. The 
 hands that brought the little saplings from the 
 woods, and planted them by her door, have long 
 since mouldered into dust, but the trees are stand- 
 ing, graceful and stately monuments to her memory, 
 and the brook still chatters over the stones, singing 
 as it goes, 
 
 " Men may come, and men may go, 
 But I go on forever." 
 
 In the year 1812, there was living in Canada a 
 man and wife by name of Hart. Their home had 
 formerly been in Massachusetts, but for some rea- 
 son they had removed to Canada. Mr. Hart had
 
 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 77 
 
 purchased a good farm, and these people, who were 
 no longer young, had every prospect of spending 
 their declining days in comfort and prosperity, but 
 all these anticipations were destroyed, by the declar- 
 ation of the war of 1812, which occurred on the 
 1 8th of June of that year. 
 
 Soon an edict from the king, proclaiming 
 that the property of all the citizens of Canada, 
 who would not take arms against the United States, 
 should be confiscated to the crown. Although it 
 must have been a hard decision, Mr. Hart did not 
 hesitate to relinquish all the property he had, 
 rather than espouse the cause of the enemies of his 
 native land. 
 
 Leaving his home, he started with his wife for the 
 States. Having relatives residing at Jefferson, X. 
 H., he decided to go there ; but the loss of his 
 property, together with bad health, so preyed upon 
 his mind, that within a short time he became insane. 
 Mr. Hart lived a few years in this unfortunate con- 
 dition. His wife took care of him, and did what 
 she could toward their support, his relations assist- 
 ing her. After his death, she decided to go to 
 Lancaster to live, hoping to get more work to do 
 there. 
 
 The rude cottage, consisting of only one room,
 
 78 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 
 
 was built for her, on the spot I have mentioned r 
 and she took possession of it, living there a num- 
 ber of years, supporting herself by spinning and 
 weaving, receiving gratefully the presents of food 
 and other things, that kind people sent her. 
 
 Mrs. Hart was a woman of some education, and 
 as I am informed, "a good Christian," believing 
 firmly in the teachings of the Bible ; but in the 
 course of time she grew rather eccentric, living so 
 much alone, and like many elderly people, dreamed 
 dreams and saw visions. W'th the passing years 
 she grew very infirm, but still she lived on in her 
 little home, though she seemed to be too aged to 
 be left alone. 
 
 Some may inquire why a poor and almost help- 
 less woman, was left to live in this way. In those 
 days, there were no comfortable places for such 
 people to go to. The poor were put up at public 
 auction, to be bid off by the lowest bidder, who 
 was to board them, at the expense of the town. 
 
 Mrs. Hart, who had once been in good circum- 
 stances, still had considerable pride, and would not 
 consent to be sold at auction, like a bale of goods, 
 or live stock. 
 
 One cold morning, late in the fall, a boy about 
 twelve years of age, started with his gun on his
 
 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 79 
 
 sin miller, for a walk through the woods, hoping to 
 fiml some partridges or other game. 
 
 As he came in the vicinity of Mrs. Hart's house, 
 he could hear boys laughing and shouting, " Why 
 don't you get up, you old witch ? " Hastening on, 
 he soon came in sight of two boys, about his own 
 age, who were throwing stones into the brook, and 
 splashing the cold water upon Mrs. Hart, who had 
 fallen, in attempting to dip a pail of water from 
 the brook. The ground being frozen and icy along 
 the bank, she had fallen in such a way that her feet 
 were submerged in the water. 
 
 Calling out to the boys to desist in their cruel 
 conduct, John, as we will call him, ran to the as- 
 sistance of the poor old woman. 
 
 With great difficulty he got her up, and partly 
 carrying and partly dragging her, got her into her 
 house, and on the bed. 
 
 Mrs. Hart was so exhausted, with cold and fright, 
 that she could hardly speak. John saw that the 
 fire in the little fireplace was out, and there was no 
 wood to rekindle it. lie went out and collected 
 some sticks, made a good fire, and then asked Mrs. 
 Hart if she had anything to eat in the house. She 
 replied, " Not much some potatoes." Boys, sixty 
 years ago, did not have much money, but John had
 
 So The Lancaster Sketch Book. 
 
 a. silver " fo-pence half penny " piece in his pocket, 
 one he had kept for a long time. Telling Mrs. 
 Hart he would soon return, he ran down the hill to 
 the first store he came to, and exchanged his silver 
 piece for some "crackers. These he carried back to 
 the old woman, whom he found sitting by the fire, 
 trying to dry her wet clothing. Having now done 
 all he could for her comfort, he was about to leave, 
 when Mrs. Hart raised her withered hand and bade 
 him come to her. "John," she said, " remember 
 the words of an old woman, whose sands of life 
 are almost run. I should have died by the bi'ook- 
 side, with the laughter and jeering remarks of those 
 wicked boys ringing in my ears, had it not been for 
 you, but it has been my death blow. I want you 
 to listen to what I am about to say, and remember 
 it is the prophecy of a dying woman:" 
 
 "I see you, as in a vision, growing up to manhood, 
 respected by all. You will become prosperous; 
 land and money will be yours; a happy home, with 
 wife and children to be a blessing and comfort to 
 you, and your days will be long upon the earth; 
 but those boys who saw me, stooping with age and 
 infirmity, slip on the icy ground, and instead of 
 coming to my assistance, threw stones, and derided 
 me with laughter and scorn, the judgment of God
 
 T/ic Lancaster Stcfc/t Book. 81 
 
 will follow. A comfortable or happy home, neither 
 will ever have, and disgrace and ruin will follow 
 their footsteps. You will live to see this fulfilled, 
 and remembering what has happened to-day, air- 
 knowledge my prophecy proved correct." Mrs. 
 Hart uttered these words in a very impressive man- 
 ner. 
 
 Soon after, John left the cottage, and thought as 
 he walked away, that he would always remember 
 what the old woman had said. 
 
 He was a poor boy, and had not any faith that 
 such a good fortune could be for him. The next 
 day a neighbor, who went to see Mrs. Hart, found 
 the door fastened, and receiving no answer to re- 
 peated raps, burst the door open, and found the old 
 lady lying upon her bed, insensible. Other neigh- 
 bors were called in, and the doctor sent for, but all 
 efforts to arouse her proved unavailing. It was 
 decided to move her to a more comfortable place. 
 She was carried to a house near by, where, within 
 two days, she died. 
 
 More than fifty years have passed since the death 
 of Mrs. Hart. What has become of the three boys, 
 whose future she predicted? Singular as it may 
 seem, the prophecy has been fulfilled. 
 
 One, soon after reaching manhood, committed a
 
 82 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 
 
 criminal offense, and was sentenced to a long term 
 in the state prison, where he died before the expir- 
 ation of the sentence. 
 
 The other grew up, worthless and dissipated, 
 and his last days were spent in the poor house. 
 
 John, by hard work, economy and temperance, 
 acquired a competence. Is now surrounded by all 
 the comforts of life. A good wife and children 
 make his declining days happy, and he is an hon- 
 ored citizen of our town. 
 
 THE SOLILOQUY OF THE OLD ACADEMY. 
 
 Surely this is a world of change; when I look 
 back over my past life, and recall all I have been 
 through, I wonder there is an original board left on 
 my frame. 
 
 It seldom falls to the lot of a building, to experi- 
 ence the vicissitudes that I have. When I was new ! 
 Ah, me! how long ago! I stood at the north end 
 of the village, and was known as the court house. 
 To be sure I was not a very handsome building, but 
 many far more elegant edifices have not sheltered 
 people of the talent and education I have. 
 
 I can recall with pride, the names of Daniel Web-
 
 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 83 
 
 i, Levi Woodbury, Ichabod Hartlett, Joseph Hell 
 and others, whose voices have been heard within 
 my walls. 
 
 I was not only used for a court house, but also for 
 religious services by the Methodist society, before 
 their church was built, and have been occupied by 
 the Masonic Fraternity. It will not do for me to 
 reveal the remarkable scenes I have witnessed dur- 
 ing their meetings, or I might in my old age share 
 the fate of John Morgan. 
 
 After a number of years, it was considered neces- 
 sary to build a new court house; about that time 
 the people were talking of starting a high school, 
 and it was thought best to convert me into an acad- 
 emy. This was done, and for several years I 
 was used for that purpose on the spot above men- 
 tioned. After a while it was decided to remove me 
 to a more central location; accordingly I was taken 
 down the street, to the spot where the academy now 
 stands. I did not so very much mind the journey. 
 I was, comparatively speaking, young then, and 
 rather liked the idea of a change. 
 
 I stood the trip very well, although I must admit 
 I got a pretty severe shaking, and was very glad to 
 get settled. 
 
 I was somewhat enlarged, new desks were put in.
 
 84 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 
 
 A steeple was built, in which a bell was hung, which 
 is now on the graded school building. 
 
 I remember with pride, the large number of 
 learned and accomplished gentlemen, who taught 
 the school during the years I was the " academy." 
 Every day, men and women pass me, who received 
 most of their education beneath my roof, and many 
 have gone forth into the " great world," but I have 
 no doubt memory often reverts to the peaceful 
 shades of this village, and- happy school days, passed 
 in the " old academy." 
 
 With the passing years, I became old-fashioned, 
 and rather dilapidated, and it was considered best to 
 have a new building for the school; so I was sold 
 to a society known as " Baptists," and was moved 
 farther down the street, and on the opposite side. 
 I felt sorry to leave the spot where I had stood so 
 long, and where I had hoped to spend my days. I 
 was then completely remodeled. The old desks 
 were removed, new windows put in, and pews made, 
 an alcove and raised platform were built at one end, 
 on which a pulpit was placed. At the right of the 
 pulpit was an orchestra, where an organ was put, 
 a carpet was laid down, and church furniture put in. 
 I felt rather proud of my appearance, when all was 
 accomplished, I was no longer the " old academy," 
 but the " Baptist church."
 
 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 85 
 
 My prosperity, however, was short-lived. Meet- 
 ings were held quite regularly for a while, but I 
 conclude from what I overheard, that the financial 
 condition of the society was rather low. They 
 could not support a minister. Occasionally a ser- 
 vice would be held, but they became less and less 
 frequent and farther apart, until they finally ceased. 
 
 Then came a sad period in my life. One who 
 has been useful, dislikes to find themselves stand for 
 nothing in a community. I was occasionally used 
 for temperance or prayer meetings, but most of the 
 time I was left lonely and sad, with plenty of time 
 to repent of my vanity, and the airs I had assumed, 
 at being converted into a church. 
 
 After a few years I passed out of the hands of 
 the Baptist society, but still remained useless. 
 
 One day I was aroused from the stupid condition 
 into which I had fallen, by having my doors and 
 window blinds thrown open. Some men came and 
 commenced to take out the pews. I wondered what 
 was going to happen, and listened attentively to 
 their talk. I soon discovered another change a- 
 waited me. I was to be made into an " armory." 
 What a life they do lead me! I thought; but still I 
 had rather wear out than rust out. 
 
 All appearance of a church disappeared. A nice
 
 86 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 
 
 hard wood floor was laid down, and soon I began 
 to present a very war-like appearance. Soldiers' 
 accoutrements were placed about my walls, and my 
 floor resounded to the martial tread of armed men. 
 I was now an " armory," and should have been 
 rather proud, only I remembered my experience as 
 " church." An entire change now took place in 
 my life. 
 
 Instead of religious services, dances and merry- 
 makings were in order. I will admit I was shocked 
 at first, at the idea of turning a church into a danc- 
 ing hall, but soon found out I was old-fashioned in 
 my notions, and resigned myself to my fate. 
 
 During the time I was an " armory," I was fre- 
 quently used for other things. Ice cream festivals, 
 sewing circles, sociables, etc., but the most surpris- 
 ing thing of all, was the roller skating. The jars 
 and severe treatment I received by those people, 
 was something awful, and the noise nearly made 
 me crazy. I was only too thankful when it was 
 decided to go where there was more room. 
 
 I should have had a very dull time after that, on- 
 ly for some musical rehearsals, which I enjoyed 
 very much. 
 
 One day as I was thinking over the past, and re- 
 gretting that I could not be made more useful in my
 
 7'//<- Lancaster Sketch Book. 87 
 
 old age, I heard some men come in. They com- 
 menced to take down the guns and other soldierly 
 equipments, and carry them out. 
 
 " What's coming now? " I thought. Again I lis- 
 tened to the conversation, and was astonished to 
 hear I was going to be a " public library! " 
 
 Workmen soon began to put up book-shelves, 
 and make other alterations, to fit me for the new 
 position I was to occupy. 
 
 I think the painting of my exterior has given me 
 more pleasure than anything that has been done. I 
 was getting so shabby I was really ashamed of my- 
 self. The color is so suitable for my age, too, " neat 
 but not gaudy." 
 
 I declare, it makes me feel quite chipper, to think 
 I am to have such an honorable position. I trust 
 that after all my trying experiences, my last days 
 may be passed as a library, but after what I have 
 been through, I am prepared for anything. 
 
 THE OLD ACADEMY. 
 
 THE DRIVE AROUND THE GORE. 
 
 Who that has taken the drive around the Gore 
 does not remember it with pleasure? We leave
 
 88 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 
 
 the village by Middle street. The road is gradually 
 ascending until we reach the " Bush farm." From 
 this point, the view is exceedingly lovely. On the 
 left is the Pilot range, towering over the interven- 
 ing hills. These mountains seem to be a favorite 
 ground for shadows, and from here the mantle of 
 spotted light and shade that envelop them, is admir- 
 ably displayed. In front, the road can be seen 
 winding along for some distance, bordered on either 
 side with pleasant, homelike looking houses. On 
 the right are the undulating meadows of Israel's 
 river, whose circuitous course can be easily traced 
 through the green verdure, by the trees and bushes 
 that overhang its banks. This little valley is one 
 of the pleasantest places in Lancaster shut in on 
 either side by hills, piled together in every way that 
 is picturesque. 
 
 We soon pass on our left, the " Freeman place," 
 originally the home of Samuel White, father of 
 Nathaniel White, who left his home at an early age, 
 for Concord, N. H. Arriving there with only one 
 shilling in his pocket, by industry, economy and 
 temperance, he accumulated a large fortune. 
 
 We drive along the smooth, hard road, passing^ 
 on the left by the " Weeks place," a long row of 
 tamarack trees, which were set out many years ago
 
 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 89 
 
 b\- Mr. Ilc-mminway, a former owner of the place. 
 On our right is the little brick house, known for 
 many years as the " W hippie place." The brick- 
 yard, which used to be on the opposite side of the 
 road, has disappeared. 
 
 On we go, passing the pleasant homes of the 
 Spauldings, crossing the bridge over the " great 
 brook," we ascend the hill by the " Smith place." 
 On the right is a charming view of Mt. Prospect 
 and Pleasant, and the farm-houses and orchards, on 
 the south road leading to Jefferson. 
 
 Passing the Stalbird and Savage places, we ar- 
 rive at the " Cummings farm," where the road 
 curves to the left. On the right is a grand and ex- 
 tensive view. Beyond the swells and rolls of land, 
 Jefferson Mills is seen, somewhat to the left are the 
 houses of Jefferson Hill, and rising above all, the 
 glistening summits of the White Mountains. 
 
 The north road can be seen the whole distance, 
 and the cleared land, patches of grain and corn on 
 the slope and base of the Pilot range, all making a 
 beautiful landscape picture of 
 
 " Cultivated slopes, and tracts of forest ground and scattered 
 
 groves, 
 And mountains bare, or clothed with ancient forests." 
 
 Before reaching the " Stillings place," the road is
 
 9 
 
 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 
 
 bordered on either side for some distance with beau- 
 tiful maple trees. Whoever planted them, deserves 
 to be gratefully remembered. Leaving the road to 
 Jefferson, we are on the direct way around the 
 Gore. 
 
 Very soon we enter one of the most beautiful 
 pieces of woods in Lancaster. The road, white and 
 hard, stretches away like the aisle of a cathedral, 
 and is lost beneath the leafy arches of maple and 
 beech. 
 
 Emerging from this lovely place, and crossing a 
 little bridge that spans another portion of the great 
 brook, Garland's mills are seen on the left, and we 
 presently pass a neat cottage house, recently erected 
 by E. C. Garland, who is experimenting in hatch- 
 ing chickens by artificial incubation. 
 
 Driving on, we presently pass a beautiful maple 
 grove on the hillside at the left, known as " Pilot 
 Heights Grove," a favorite place for picnics. 
 
 On the right, beyond the cultivated land, are acres 
 of primeval forest, as yet untouched by the ax of the 
 woodman. Above and beyond these woods, Percy 
 Peaks and Cape Horn are boldly outlined against 
 the sky. 
 
 Passing the Plaisted and Stockwell farms, we 
 hear the hum of a saw-mill, and very soon we see
 
 Tltf Lancaster Sketch Book. 91 
 
 on the right Stockwell's mills and the Grange. 
 Another mile brings us into the "out east " road 
 just by the " Week's place." From here we return 
 on the same road by which we left the village, and 
 finish our delightful drive, just as 
 
 " Slowly o'er the pleasant landscape 
 Falls the evening's dusk and coolness." 
 
 THE FARRAR HOUSE MYSTERY. 
 
 The house in which the following remarkable 
 event occurred, was situated on the spot where the 
 Catholic parsonage now stands, and was known as 
 the Farrar house. 
 
 It is only a few years since this house, which was 
 a large two-story building, was taken down, and 
 there are many, now living in town, who knew the 
 Farrar family, but as far as I have been able to as- 
 certain, the only one now living in the village, who 
 was here in 1818, the year in which this incident 
 transpired, is Mrs. Allen Smith, who was a girl of 
 eighteen at that time, and was teaching school here. 
 She was familiar with the whole affair, and I am 
 indebted to her for the following account. 
 
 At the time I am writing of, this house was occu-
 
 92 The Lancaster Sketch Book, 
 
 pied by Deacon Farrar and wife, a young man by 
 name of George Kibby, a relative of Mrs. Farrar's, 
 and a young girl, Hannah Nute, who assisted Mrs. 
 Farrar about the housework. She was a small, 
 delicate looking girl, with very pretty blue eyes, 
 and brown hair. 
 
 Deacon Farrar, as his name indicates, was deacon 
 of the Congregational church, a lawyer by profes- 
 sion, and had for some years been clerk of the court. 
 He was a small, spare man, very agreeable and 
 pleasant in his manners. Besides discharging his 
 duties as deacon, he was also a member of the choir, 
 and played upon a very large bass viol. 
 
 Mrs. Farrar was a tall, thin woman, with dark 
 hair, which she wore arranged in little curls at each 
 side of her face; and she always wore a turban- 
 shaped cap, which gave her a very majestic appear- 
 ance. She was very dignified in her manners, and 
 a little inclined to be aristocratic ; but a most excel- 
 lent woman, and a devout member of the church. 
 
 Hannah Nute occupied a bedroom on the ground 
 floor and opening out of the kitchen, the other mem- 
 bers of the family slept up-stairs. One night Han- 
 nah was awakened by hearing a loud rap under 
 her bed. She was much startled, but thinking it 
 might be the rats in the cellar, was just going to
 
 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 93 
 
 sleep, when she was again disturbed by hearing 
 three distinct raps in the same place. Thoroughly 
 aroused and frightened, she jumped from her bed, 
 ran through the kitchen to the hall, and up the stairs, 
 calling, " Oh! Mrs. Farrar, Mrs. Farrar," as she fell 
 almost fainting at her chamber door. 
 
 " What do you mean, Hannah, by giving me such 
 a fright? I thought the house was on fire," said 
 Mrs. Farrar, opening the door. 
 
 " There is some one under my bed," said Hannah, 
 gasping for breath. 
 
 " What nonsense, you have been dreaming." 
 
 " Oh, no! I wan't asleep, and they rapped three 
 times very loud on the floor." 
 
 " Oh, Hannah, lam surprised that you should be so 
 foolish, but come, I will go down with you and look 
 under your bed." 
 
 " Oh, hadn't you better get the deacon to go and 
 look, I am sure some one is there?" but Mrs. 
 Farrar was already half way down stairs, and with 
 fear and trembling, Hannah followed her. Mrs. Far- 
 rar stopped in the kitchen and lighted a candle by the 
 coals that were still brightly glowing on the hearth, 
 and going into Hannah's room looked under the 
 bed. Hannah had not ventured into the room. 
 
 u Come here and look for yourself. Now are
 
 94 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 
 
 you convinced you were dreaming?" said Mrs. 
 Farrar, as Hannah stepped into the room. Just at 
 that moment, three distinct raps came, apparently 
 from beneath the girl's feet. 
 
 She gave a loud scream and ran into the kitchen, 
 Mrs. Farrar following rather quickly for her. 
 
 " Oh, some one is in the cellar, do call the deacon," 
 said Hannah. 
 
 Just then George Kibby, who had been awakened 
 by Hannah's screams, came rushing into the kitchen, 
 calling out, "What is the matter?" closely followed 
 by the deacon, who said, " Why, wife! what is this 
 commotion? " 
 
 Mrs. Farrar explained the cause of this unusual 
 excitement, and as if to corroborate her statement, 
 there came a succession of loud raps on the kitchen 
 floor. 
 
 " There," screamed Hannah. 
 
 " This is really alarming," said Mrs. Farrar. 
 
 " I will soon find out what is making this disturb- 
 ance," said the deacon, taking the long iron fire- 
 shovel in one hand, and the candlestick in the other, 
 and starting for the cellar door. George took the 
 tongs and followed, Mrs. Farrar brandishing a 
 broom, and Hannah, with a big stick of wood, 
 brought up the rear. The cellar was thoroughly
 
 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 95 
 
 searched, hut nothing was discovered. 
 
 By this time they were all very much alarmed. 
 A tire was built in the kitchen, and they gathered 
 around it to talk the matter over. 
 
 "Deacon," said Mrs. Farrar, " I think it is a 
 warning. I have heard of such things." 
 
 " I think that the house is haunted," said 
 George. 
 
 " Well," said the deacon, " it is certainly a singu- 
 lar and startling phenomenon, and I think George 
 had better go for Parson Willard." 
 
 " Perhaps it is best," said Mrs. Farrar. 
 
 Meanwhile the rapping continued at short inter- 
 vals. Hannah became almost prostrated with fright, 
 the neighbors were sent for, and in the early morn- 
 ing the parson came; he could offer no explanation 
 for the remarkable disturbance. 
 
 It was thought proper under the circumstances to 
 hold a religious service, the great family Bible was 
 brought from the parlor, and a portion of the Script- 
 ures read, and prayers offered, but still the raps 
 were heard. 
 
 A thorough investigation of the house and cellar 
 was made, and the blinds on the outside examined; 
 but nothing could be found to throw the least light 
 on this mysterious rapping. It was, however, as-
 
 96 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 
 
 certained that the raps only came in the room where 
 Hannah was, and seemed to follow her; some per- 
 sons thought she must in some way cause them. As 
 the days went by and there was no cessation of 
 this rapping, the whole town became excited ; the 
 house was thronged with people from this, and the 
 adjoining towns, who came to visit the " haunted 
 house." 
 
 As many of the people in the village were of the 
 opinion that Hannah Nute must in some way cause 
 the raps, it was decided to have her watched, and 
 four of the leading men of the town were appoint- 
 ed as an investigating committee. They tied the 
 girl's hands and feet, and laid her on a bed, they 
 then sat down by her, two on each side of the bed. 
 In that way she was watched for a day and night, 
 but meanwhile the raps were heard, on the walls 
 and floor, and even on the bedstead, but only in the 
 room where Hannah was. 
 
 The committee decided that they could not in any 
 way account for the raps. Some of the people 
 thought it was a warning to the family of some 
 misfortune that would shortly follow, while others 
 said it must be the work of the devil. The knowl- 
 edge of knowing that she was suspected of making 
 the raps, had made Hannah quite ill, and she beg-
 
 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 97 
 
 ged to be sent away. On the day she left the house, 
 the raps were more frequent than they had been, 
 and as she passed through the hall to the door, 
 seemed to follow her, and came with great force on 
 the floor, but that was the last of the raps, whatever 
 it was that caused them, whether 
 
 "Good spirits or bad, 
 Black spirits or white," 
 
 seemed to leave the house when Hannah did. 
 
 Deacon Farrar and family occupied the house for 
 many years after, and never were troubled by a 
 repetition of this remarkable occurrence, which has 
 always remained unexplained, and the rappings at 
 the Farrar house are still spoken of as a great mys- 
 tery. 
 
 THE DRIVE TO THE TOP OF MT. PROSPECT. 
 
 The drive to the top of Mount Prospect is very 
 pleasant, and easily and safely accomplished by the 
 good carriage- road, that has been made quite to the 
 top by VV. H. Smith, who has built a comfortable 
 hotel, large enough to accommodate thirty-five 
 guests, on the summit of this mountain.
 
 98 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 
 
 Leaving the village by the Sand Hill, we drive 
 along the Whitefield road for a mile and a half, 
 when we take a road leading to the left. Another 
 half mile brings us to the little toll-house at the foot 
 of the mountain, from here to the top of the moun- 
 tain the distance is three-quarters of a mile. The 
 first of the way is only slightly ascending; as we 
 go on, we come to some steep pitches, but our horses 
 have no difficulty in taking us safely over them. 
 The road winds in such a way that the house is not 
 visible until we turn the last curve, when we come 
 right upon it. The genial landlord, Mr. W. H. 
 Smith, stands on the steps to receive us, and we are 
 soon landed on the broad piazza. 
 
 Mount Prospect is 2090 feet above tide-water, 
 1240 feet above Lancaster village. From the front 
 piazza of the hotel we see in the foreground Cher- 
 ry Mountain and, beyond, the whole Presidential 
 range, crowned in the center by the dome of Mt. 
 Washington. The belts of pine, and farther up, the 
 gorges and ravines that sear the mountain's sides, 
 are easily discerned. The railway and Summit 
 House on Mt. Washington can be readily dis- 
 tinguished without the aid of a telescope. On the 
 right we look down on Mt. Pleasant, Mt. Orne and 
 Martin meadow pond, glistening like a great mir-
 
 /'//( Lancaster SAt-/i-/t />ii<>. 99 
 
 ror in a setting of green hills that hem it in on all 
 sides. Just between these mountains, but far in the 
 distance, can be seen the tapering spire of a church 
 in Lunenburg. Turning towara the north-west, 
 \\ r see the broad valley of the Connecticut, whose 
 course can be traced for forty miles in sweeping 
 curves through the luxuriant intervals and by hills 
 clothed with forests, as with stately grace it flows 
 down to the sea. Just in the foreground are the 
 farms of Howe, Hodgdons, and the Daniel Stebbins' 
 place, now known as the " Smith farm." The 
 patches of corn, grain, groves of maple and pine, 
 the farm-houses shaded by apple-trees, and farther 
 on beyond the rolling hills, the village of Lancaster, 
 cosily situated in the valley below, all make a 
 beautiful picture. One might almost imagine, as 
 they gaze down upon this scene of peace, plenty 
 and purity, that it was some nook of primitive Eden, 
 but " distance lends enchantment to the view." 
 
 Six villages, four hundred farms, and thirteen 
 ponds, can be seen from the top of Mount Pros- 
 pect, all surrounded by a mighty chain of mountains 
 seven hundred miles in length. It is quite impos- 
 sible for us to describe the extensive panorama of 
 charming views that are presented from this mount- 
 ian. The outlook is grand in everv direction. In
 
 TOO The Lancaster Sketch Book. 
 
 order to fully enjoy the trip, one should remain 
 over night and witness the gorgeous beauties of the 
 sunset and sunrise. 
 
 We see no reason why " Hotel Prospect" should 
 not become a favorite resort. The cool bracing air 
 will bring healing to the invalid, and the marvelous 
 beauty of the view afford peace and rest to the 
 weary. 
 
 The drive down the mountain and to the village 
 is quickly accomplished, as it is nearly all the way 
 descending. The sun is just sinking behind the 
 Vermont hills, shedding a golden splendor over the 
 meadows, and tinging the Pilot range and Percy 
 Peaks with rose-color, as we drive down Sand Hill 
 into the village. 
 
 GREAT GRANDMA'S CARPET. 
 
 The following sketch, although written in the 
 form of a story, is strictly true. The grand-mother 
 was Mrs. Persis Everett, wife of Judge Everett, 
 and the carpet was made for a room in what is now 
 known as the " Cross house." The writer has seen 
 pieces of the carpet. 
 
 " Mother," said Annie Belmont, " It is a lovely
 
 Lancaster Sketch Book. 101 
 
 morning. Don't \<>u want to go clown to Porter & 
 (J ray's ami choose our new carpets? You know 
 we must get them clown before cousin Dora comes 
 next week." 
 
 " Yes, I will go with you; but I must write some 
 letters first. I will be ready in an hour." 
 
 " Annie," said Grandma Belmont, who was sit- 
 ting by the fire knitting, " while your mother is 
 writing, don't you want me to tell you how my 
 mother got a carpet? " 
 
 "Oh, yes, grandma! You know there is noth- 
 ing I like so well as having you tell an old-fashioned 
 story." 
 
 u Well, my dear, you know, seventy-five years 
 ago, carpets were not very common. Very few 
 people had them. There was none made in this 
 country, and an English carpet was very expensive." 
 
 " What did you have on the floors, grandma? " 
 
 " Nothing not even paint; but they were scoured 
 white as sand could make them. My mother had 
 only one carpet in the house, and that was on the 
 parlor floor. It was a green and black English car- 
 pet. I suppose my mother made the first carpet 
 that was ever manufactured in New Hampshire, or 
 even in New England. Your great-grandfather 
 was a lawyer, and, at that time, Lancaster was not
 
 IO2 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 
 
 a shire town; the courts were held at Haverhill. 
 But after a while, Lancaster was made a shire town. 
 When father came home from the spring term of 
 court at Haverhill, he said the next fall the court 
 would sit in Lancaster, and as there was no suitable 
 place for the judges to board, he had promised to 
 take them in. They used to have three judges 
 the chief justice and two side judges. I am sure I 
 don't know what they were called side judges for, 
 unless it was because one sat on each side of the 
 judge who attended to all the business. I have of- 
 ten been into court with father, and I never heard 
 one say a word. They just sat there and looked 
 wise. Mother was surprised enough when father 
 said he was going to board the judges. 
 
 ' Why, father,' she said, ' what are you thinking 
 of? There is not room enough in the house.' 
 
 ' No,' said father, ' but there will be by fall. I 
 am going to have an addition of two rooms built on 
 to the house.' 
 
 ' I don't see,' said mother, ' how we can get car- 
 pets; but if you are going to have the judges board 
 here, I will see what can be done.' 
 
 It was not very long before father had some men 
 at work on the new rooms, and mother began to 
 think something must be done about the carpets.
 
 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 103 
 
 So she went up to see Eunice Stockwell, and talked 
 it over with her. She was the best hand to weave 
 tlK-rc \\ :is anywhere round. 
 
 We had lots of sheep and plenty of wool, so 
 mother took forty pounds and had it carded into 
 rolls. Then she got Nancy Greenleaf and Lucy 
 White to come and spin it. 
 
 It was spun into good strong yarn, four skeins to 
 a pound. I was a little girl, but it seems to me I 
 can see Nancy and Lucy now, just as they looked 
 spinning. They had their wheels up in the great 
 open chamber. It was in summer time, and the 
 windows were open at each end of the room. I 
 used to go up there and sit on an old chest by the 
 window, and watch them spin. Nancy was tall 
 and slim, and had light hair, which she wore done 
 up in a little ball on the top of her head, fastened 
 with a big comb. She wore her dresses quite short, 
 and as she stepped back and forth turning her wheel, 
 she was always singing. I never heard her vary 
 the tune or words: 
 
 " Come, Philander, let's be marching.' 
 
 She would come down heavy on the ' ching.' 
 Who Philander was, or where he was going to 
 march, I never could find out. I used to ask her to 
 sing some more, but she said that was all she knew.
 
 1 04 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 
 
 Lucy was a real pretty girl; she had black eyes 
 and red cheeks; she used to make fun of Nancy 
 and her song. Well, in a few weeks, the spinning 
 was all done; then mother had the yarn carried up 
 to Eunice Stockwell to be woven, and before long 
 it was sent home a great roll of white flannel. 
 Then it had to be carried to Haverhill, to be fulled 
 and colored. It was about thirty miles to Haver- 
 hill, and the only way to go was on horseback. 
 Job, who was one of the hired men, packed it on to 
 a horse, and started with it. 
 
 Meantime, mother had been coloring yarn red, 
 yellow, green and blue. She had to make all her 
 dyes herself, but she had some bright, handsome 
 colors. I remember how pretty it looked, hanging 
 out on the line drying. 
 
 After a while, the cloth came home three great 
 rolls of dark brown, heavy cloth. Then it was cut 
 into breadths, the length of the room, and mother 
 and Aunt Betsy marked them off into squares, about 
 a foot each way, so they would match when it was 
 sewed together. 
 
 In each square was a large star. It was worked 
 in what you call Kensington stitch. That's noth- 
 ing but just the old-fashioned marking stitch. The 
 squares were worked in green, the stars in yellow,.
 
 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 105 
 
 and in each point of the stars were little stars, worked 
 in different colors; and so the whole carpet was 
 made by hand. It was real handsome when it was 
 done. Folks came from all around to see it." 
 
 " How I wish I could have seen it, grandma! 
 Think of working a whole carpet by hand! I have 
 been nearly all winter doing a table-spread. But 
 how did they get the furniture for the rooms?" 
 
 " Father started for Portland on horse-back 
 that was the nearest place where furniture could be 
 bought." 
 
 " How far was it, grandma? " 
 
 " A hundred miles, and most of the way through 
 the woods. But there was a good road, and teams 
 always going and coming. 
 
 Father told mother to send Job along with the 
 ox-team, after he had been gone two days. Father 
 got home several days before Job, but at last he 
 came with a big load of things. 
 
 There were two high-posted bed-steads, looking- 
 glasses, tables and chairs, but what I thought was 
 nicest of all, were two great bell-metal basins." 
 
 " What were they for? " 
 
 " They were to fill the place of the earthern 
 wash-bowls we have nowadays. None were to be 
 had then. Bell-metal and pewter basins were used 
 instead.
 
 106 The Lancaster Sketch Book, 
 
 Well, the rooms looked very nice when they were 
 done. Mother put up some green and white checked 
 bed-curtains, home-made, out of flax and wool, and 
 trimmed with yellow fringe. 
 
 When court set, in November, the judges came 
 to our house, and always after for every term of 
 court for many years. 
 
 Now, all you have to do when you want a car- 
 pet, is to go to the store and select it; but I am sure 
 you can never have one you can feel half so proud 
 of as mother did of hers." 
 
 " Come, Annie," said Mrs. Belmont, entering the 
 room, with her bonnet on, " lam ready to go now." 
 
 " Thank you, grandma, for your story. I am 
 afraid I have lost some of my interest in buying the 
 new carpets. I wish we could make some, as my 
 great-grandma did." 
 
 THE DRIVE OVER PAGE HILL. 
 
 The drive over Page Hill to the Northumberland 
 road, returning by the Beattie pine woods, a dis- 
 tance of seven miles, is probably less frequented 
 than any in this vicinity. One reason is no doubt 
 owing to the road, which is in some places rather
 
 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 107 
 
 rough, but chiefly because the scenery in that local- 
 itv is not -upposcil t<> l>e very attractive, at least that 
 i> what \ve thought until recently, when on one 
 pleasant afternoon, when the sunshine was tempered 
 by a gentle west wind, and a shower had laid the 
 dust and made grass and foliage wear a fresher green, 
 \ve took this drive over Page Hill. 
 
 We leave the village by North street, and, after 
 crossing the railroad track, take the road leading to 
 the right. A few rods brings us to the house of 
 Mr. John W. Stevens, just at the foot of the hill. 
 Page Hill derives its name from Mr. David Page, 
 one of the first settlers of the town, and who was 
 the first owner of this land. This hill is not very 
 steep, and we soon reach the top. Looking back 
 toward the west, we get a lovely view of the Con- 
 necticut, winding its devious way through the green 
 meadows. As we go on, we pass on the right, the 
 farm of Mr. George H. Stalbird. A field of ripen- 
 ing oats, golden in the afternoon sunshine, make a 
 pleasant contrast with the brighter green of the sur- 
 rounding fields. On the left, beyond the cultivated 
 fields, pastures and wood-lots, are the green hills of 
 Vermont. Now we come to the Moore place, and 
 pass on the right, an orchard, the trees loaded with 
 apples. Just here we notice a road on the left,
 
 io8 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 
 
 which leads to the " Goodale farm." After passing 
 the homes of Messrs. Willard and John Moore, the 
 road is not very good, as it is but little used Leyond 
 this point. Another mile brings us to the old Dan- 
 iel Spaulding place. Mr. Spaulding, the original 
 owner of this farm, was the son of Mrs. Phebe 
 Spaulding, a woman renowned for her courage and 
 determination. The old house is only a ruin, and 
 the land is owned by Mr. Horace Holton and oth- 
 ers. Of the once large orchard, only a few trees re- 
 main, and there is but little to indicate that this was 
 once a thrifty farm. Just beyond the old house is a 
 great flat rock, extending nearly across the road; 
 just here we will leave the carriage, and fasten our 
 horse to the fence, beneath the shade of an old ap- 
 ple tree; then passing through some bars on the 
 right, we walk about thirty rods through the field 
 to a slight elevation. Ah! does not this gi'and view 
 repay us? In the foreground, we look down upon 
 thousands of acres of primeval forest, beyond that 
 we see the Gore, Lost Nation, New France, or 
 Parks' Mills, and rising above all, like a grand frame 
 for this beautiful picture, is the Pilot range, flecked 
 with shadows from the soft white clouds floating 
 above it. The cleared land and fields of yellow 
 grain, extending in some places half way up the
 
 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 109 
 
 mountain sides, the farm houses and mills, all con- 
 trast pk-asantly with the unbroken forest. Twen- 
 ty-five years ago, where we now look down upon 
 thirty fauns, there had not a clearing been made, 
 and the only inhabitants were wolves and bears. 
 Turning to the right, we see Mts. Prospect and 
 Pleasant, Stebbins Hill, Hodgdon Hill, and get a 
 glimpse of the houses of the village in the valley 
 below. To the left, seemingly almost within our 
 reach, are the Percy Peaks and Mt. Lyon. From 
 this point the land in thirteen towns can be seen. 
 Reluctantly we turn away from this charming pros- 
 pect, and are soon driving on. Grass is growing in 
 the road, indicating that it is not much traveled, and 
 blackberry bushes, loaded with luscious fruit, bend 
 temptingly near us. Arching boughs of golden rod, 
 and bunches of purple asters, and elder bloom, light 
 up the way side, and glow in patches in the fields. 
 The land on either side of the road is rugged and 
 rocky, but occasionally we pass a field of oats or 
 corn, charming in contrast with the rugged scenery 
 by its side. Over hill and down dale we go, through 
 a wonderful web of light and shade, with a glimpse 
 now and again of far off mountain peaks, or undu- 
 lating ranges of hills, until driving down a hill rather 
 steeper than any previous, we come out on to the
 
 no The Lancaster Sketch Book. 
 
 Northumberland road, just above the railroad cross- 
 ing. We turn to the left, and find ourselves on a 
 smooth, level road, and get a glimpse of the silvery 
 gleaming of the Connecticut through the trees on 
 the right. Very soon we enter the pine woods and 
 inhale the delightful piney odor from the trees. 
 Soon we pass on the left the cozy home of Captain 
 Beattie, and a little farther on at the right, is the 
 " Bellows Place," now owned by Captain Beattie. 
 The old house, that has been the scene of many 
 happy gatherings and merry makings, was fast fall- 
 ing into a dilapidated condition, but has been thor- 
 oughly repaired by the present owner. 
 
 We recall the delightful views afforded by this 
 drive, we regret that the road is not in a more fav- 
 orable condition, if it was, we are sure this would 
 become one of the favorite drives in this vicinity. 
 The remark made by a Scotchman in regard to his 
 own mountainous country, applies to Coos County 
 admirably: " It's a grand country. If it's nae great 
 comfort to the purse, it's aye a pleasure to the e'e."
 
 The Lancaster Sketch Book. \ 1 1 
 
 THE OLD CEMETERY. 
 
 Ti> many of the residents of Lancaster, the old 
 graye-yard is a sacred spot. There are none of the 
 older people who haye not followed the remains of 
 dear ones through the gate and up the hill to their 
 last resting place. 
 
 Recently in strolling through this spot where 
 
 " Each in his narrow cell forever laid, 
 The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep," 
 
 we stopped to read some of the inscriptions, that in 
 some cases furnish facts for biography and history, 
 which the cemeteries of our day will afford scant 
 material, as the monuments of a recent date, do not, 
 in some cases, impart the age of the dead and only 
 the initials of the name are used. 
 
 In publishing some of the inscriptions, which we 
 copied with much difficulty from the moss coyered 
 stones, that time's busy fingers will soon have en- 
 tirely effaced, we do so with reverence, thinking 
 the quaint and interesting inscriptions should not be 
 entirely lost. 
 
 Within a small enclosure, lying flat on the ground, 
 is a large stone bearing the two following inscrip- 
 tions:
 
 H2 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 
 
 EMMONS STOCKWELL, 
 
 DIED NOV. 8, iSig, IN THE 78 YEAR OF 
 HIS LIFE. 
 
 One of the first settlers of this town, his descendants more than 120. 
 Honesty and industry attended him through life. 
 
 Mark the perfect man and behold the upright, for the end of that 
 man is peace. 
 
 RUTH, 
 
 WIFE OF EMMONS STOCKWELL, 
 DIED MARCH 21, 1828. 
 
 On other stones in various parts of the ground 
 were found the following: 
 
 MRS. RACHEL, 
 
 WIFE OF CAPT. DAVID PAGE, 
 DIED APRIL 28, 
 
 MRS. ELIZABETH HUNNEX, 
 
 WIFE OF SAMUEL HUNNEX, 
 
 DIED l822, AGED 63. 
 The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death. 
 
 IN MEMORY OF 
 
 MRS. MARY BRACKETT, 
 
 RELICT OF MR. JOSEPH BRACKETT, 
 DIED JULY 15, 1814, AGED 70. 
 
 In active usefulness, Christian meakness and patience she was rarely 
 surpassed.
 
 The Lancaster Sketch Hook. 113 
 
 REV. JOSEPH WILLARD, 
 
 I'IKI) JULY 22, 1827, AGED 66 YEARS. 
 For *8 years pastor of the Congregational Chxirch of this town. 
 
 JONAS BAKER, 
 
 DIED FEB. 14, 1828. 
 An honest man is the noblest work of God. % 
 
 ERECTED TO THE MEMORY OF 
 
 MRS. BETSY BAKER, 
 
 CONSORT OF JONAS BAKER AND ELDEST 
 
 DAUGHTER OF JONAS WILDER, 
 
 DIED IN iSoi. 
 
 STEPHEN ROSEBROOK, 
 
 SON OF JAMES AND PHEBK ROSEBROOK. 
 DIED FEB. 17, 1815, AGED II YEARS. 
 
 Death is a debt to nature due, 
 Which 1 have paid and so must you, 
 Depart my friends, dry up your tears, 
 Here I must lie till Christ appears. 
 
 SACRED TO THE MEMORY OF 
 
 MARY, 
 
 CONSORT OF STEPHEN WILSON, 
 WHO DIED FEB. 28, 1813, AGED 45. 
 
 Let sorrow change to sacred mirth. 
 Know God in love hath given, 
 
 The pure in heart who mourn on earth. 
 Perpetual smile in Heaven.
 
 114 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 
 
 CHARLES STUART, 
 
 COUNSELLOR AT LAW, 
 DIED MAY 17, 1837, AGED 46. 
 
 JOHN B. ASPINWALL, 
 
 DIED MAY 25, 1833, AGED 26. 
 
 He's gone and left this world of pain, 
 This dark and dismal shore, 
 
 We only part to meet again, 
 And meet to part no more. 
 
 IN MEMORY OF 
 
 MR. NICHOLAS WHITE, 
 
 WHO DIED MAY jS, 1813, AGED 54. 
 
 Stop, traveler, as you pass by, 
 As you are now, so once was I, 
 
 As I am now so you must be, 
 Prepare for death and follow me. 
 
 ANDREW ADAMS, 
 
 DIED APRIL 14, 1833, AGED 97. 
 
 The graves of all the Saints He blessed, 
 
 And softened every bed, 
 Where should the dying member rest, 
 
 But with the dying Head. 
 
 This monument iserected by North Star Lodge as a tribute of af- 
 tVctionate respect to the memory of their deceased and worthy brother 
 
 ARA W. BURNAP, 
 
 WHO DIED UNIVERSALLY ESTEEMED AXD RESPECTED, 
 MARCH 21, 1813. AGED 45.
 
 This book is DUE on the last 
 date stamped below. 
 
 REMINGTON RAND INC. 2 
 
 AR 18 1979 
 
 213 (533)
 
 HY58 55*41 4701 
 
 A 001 337 489