UNDeR-A-CO'
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 OF 
 THE UNIVERSI 
 OF CALIFORN 
 
 LOS angele; 
 
 )ipc6ujcnin^R€iDS
 
 
 
 
 THE OLD HOUSE
 
 UNDER A COLONIAL 
 ROOF-TREE 
 
 FIRESIDE CHRONICLES OF EARLY 
 NEW ENGLAND 
 
 BY 
 
 ARRIA S. HUNTI^^GTON 
 
 The great eventful Present hides the Past ; but through the din 
 Of its loud life hints and echoes from the life behind steal in ; 
 And the lore of home and fireside, and the legendary rhyme, 
 Make the task of duty lighter which the true man owes his time 
 
 J. G. Whittier 
 
 SYRACUSE 
 WOLCOTT'S BOOKSHOP 
 
 1905
 
 Copyright, 1891, 
 By ARRIA S. HUNTINGTON. 
 
 All rights reserved- 
 
 The Riverside Prexs, Cambridge, Mass., U. S. A. 
 Printed by H. O Houghton & Company.
 
 CONTENTS AND LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The Old House Frontispiece 
 
 OUR ANCESTRY OF FREEMEN 1 
 
 The Entrance to the Woods . 16 
 
 The Spire of Hatfield Church 24 
 
 A DIARY OF LONG AGO 25 
 
 The House, from the Garden 52 
 
 Flreplace in the Long Room 98 
 
 LATER LIFE IN THE OLD MANSION 101 
 
 The Family Burial-Place 116 
 
 APPENDIX 125 
 
 2040 
 
 032
 
 UNDER A COLONIAL ROOF-TREE. 
 
 OUR ANCESTRY OF FREEMEN. 
 
 There has been no nation but, in the beginning of its history, 
 there was the consciousness of a relation to a world which it did not 
 conquer with its swords, and whose fruits it did not gather in its 
 barns nor exchange in its markets. — Mulford. 
 
 In tlie spring of 1630, the Wintlirop fleet, de- 
 parting from Plymouth, England, turned its course 
 westward in the direction of the New World. 
 Reaching the cpast of the unexplored continent, the 
 first to arrive in Massachusetts Bay was the large 
 ship Mary and John, freighted with one hundred 
 and forty passengers, " godly families and people," 
 under the lead of their two ministers. 
 
 These colonists were men and women respectable 
 in condition and lineage, possessed of fortitude, and 
 moved by high moral purpose and strong religious 
 devotion. Of their ten weeks on the ocean one of 
 the number wrote : " So we came by the good hand 
 of the Lord through the deeps comfortably, having 
 Preaching and expounding of the Word of God 
 every day." 
 
 At the end of May they found themselves near
 
 2 UNDER A COLONIAL ROOF-TREE. 
 
 the shore; but instead of anchoring in Charles 
 Kiver as was intended, the captain disembarked the 
 whole company in a wild spot at Nantasket, where 
 they were left to shift for themselves. A week later, 
 a day of rest and thanksgiving celebrated their set- 
 tlement at Dorchester, in which place permanent 
 dwellings were erected during the summer months. 
 
 A winter of severe privation followed. Their his- 
 torian says : " They suffered Hunger and saw no 
 hope in an Eye of Reason to be supplyed, only by 
 Clams and Muscles and Fish. It was not accounted 
 a strange thing in those Days to drink Water and 
 to eat Samp or Homiuie without Butter and Milk." 
 
 It is related that " a good man, who had asked 
 liis neighbor to a dish of clams, after dinner re- 
 turned thanks to God, who had given them to suck 
 of the abundance of the seas and of treasure hid in 
 the sands." 
 
 Even groundnuts and acorns were articles of food, 
 and the Indians Avho brought their own stores of 
 corn were welcomed as benefactors. 
 
 Yet the minds of these high-spirited adventurers 
 were not occupied alone with material necessities or 
 daunted by discomforts. Their deepest concern was 
 for security in political and religious privileges. 
 With their Anglo-Saxon birthright of liberty came 
 a conviction of their right to self-government. The 
 belief of the Puritans in individual responsibihty to 
 divine law was intense. To them, the sacredness of 
 personality was embodied in the citizens, or " free-
 
 OUR ANCESTRY OF FREEMEN. 6 
 
 men." Their town and church had been organized 
 on the 20th of March in Plymouth, before the em- 
 barkation. Local self-government was thus estab- 
 lished and maintained from the first. In defense of 
 it they demanded democratic representation in the 
 Colonial Assembly. A majority under John Cot- 
 ton favored restricting votes and offices to church 
 members. Three churches, those of Dorchester, 
 Newtown, and Watertown, opposed this " most ex- 
 traordinary order or law," as it was afterwards 
 characterized by Hutchinson, who adds that " such 
 were the requisites for church membership that the 
 grievances were abundantly greater." Their request 
 was for representation by the towns. When Win- 
 throp maintained " the best part is always the least," 
 Rev. Mr. Hooker argued that " a general council 
 chosen by all is most suitable to transact matters 
 which concern the common good." Mr. Warham 
 and his Dorchester flock held to this principle. Posi- 
 tive in their convictions, resolute in determination, 
 our forefathers were not made of the stuff which 
 yields lightly when liberty is at stake. They looked 
 forth again into the wilderness for an opportunity to 
 found a community under their own charter. 
 
 From far away, a hundred miles westward, traders 
 and adventurers brought reports of an open and fer- 
 tile valley, forests abounding in valuable furs, and a 
 broad and navigable river giving direct communi- 
 cation with the sea. At its mouth Lord Saye and 
 Sele had secured land patents. Above, at Matta-
 
 4 UNDER A COLONIAL ROOF-TREE. 
 
 neaug, an outpost was established. Towards this 
 point on Fresh River, now known as the Connecticut, 
 an exploring party proceeded in 1635. It was in 
 the autumn, and a journey through unbroken wood- 
 land, over hills and across streams, proved uncom- 
 monly arduous. The weather was severe, and the 
 river frozen over in November. The men returned 
 after much suffering. Nevertheless their report 
 was so far satisfactory that in the following year 
 the whole of Rev. Mr. AVarham's church removed 
 thither with theii' pastor. Under his lead they made 
 a settlement at what is now known as Windsor, 
 Connecticut. Already Pynchon, with a colony from 
 Roxbury, had become established higher up the 
 river, at Agawam. A large company came from 
 Cambridge, then called Newtown, with their minis- 
 ter, Mr. Hooker. Hartford and Wethersfield formed 
 part of this active and hopef id community, and in 
 1636 a General Court was instituted. At that gath- 
 ering Mr. Hooker maintained that " the foundation 
 of authority is laid in the free consent of the 
 people." 
 
 The Constitution then adopted by the freemen of 
 the three towns was the " first known to history 
 that created a government, and it marked the be- 
 ginnings of American democracy." Its federation 
 of independent towns, its extended suffrage, the dif- 
 ferent form of representation in the Assembly and 
 the upper House, all formed a republican govern- 
 ment similar to that adopted later by the United 
 States.
 
 OUR ANCESTRY OF FREEMEN. 5 
 
 To sucli brave men as those who embarked in the 
 Mary and John, who founded the Dorchester town- 
 ship and established the State of Connecticut, we 
 owe the grand ideas of the nation as the realization 
 of freedom, the sovereignty of the people, and the 
 sacredness of then* rights. Self-taxation, trial by 
 jm-y, and the office of justice of the peace repre- 
 sented to them the institution and preservation of 
 personal liberty. 
 
 A quarter of a century passed away, and great 
 events had taken place across the sea. The Kino- 
 of England had ruled without a Parliament, and 
 Parliament had ruled without a kino-. The reio-n of 
 Charles I. and the Protectorate of Cromwell were 
 alike over. Both men were in their graves and 
 another Stuart was restored to the throne. 
 
 The young and vigorous life of the new country 
 felt but hghtly the strain of changes which had so 
 profound an effect in the Old World. The tide of 
 colonization had been checked with the ascendency 
 of the Puritans during the Commonwealth. The 
 settlers occupied themselves in strengthening their 
 local government, forming a federated league, unit- 
 ing in defense against the Indians, clearing and 
 improving their lands. 
 
 Religious affairs were a matter of deep concern. 
 At a council in Boston in 1660, dissension arose on 
 the subject of baptism, and other questions involved 
 in what was known as " The Half-way Covenant." 
 The majority advocated admitting the children of
 
 6 UNDEK A COLONIAL ROOF-TREE. 
 
 professing Christians not in full communion with 
 any one particular church. In the Hartford colony 
 serious division occurred. Rev. John Russell and 
 many of his flock believed that the Congregational 
 policy was seriously threatened. The result was, 
 that again a pastor and people sought a new home, 
 and in that same year laid out the town of Hadley, 
 across the Massachusetts line. About twenty miles 
 above Pynchon's settlement they found a wide val- 
 ley of unusual lovehness, with great advantages of 
 soil and surroundings. 
 
 A mountain chain rises here abruptly from the 
 meadow-land, closing in the rich intervale. The 
 Connecticut, in its southward course, before entering 
 the narrow opening between opposite peaks, takes 
 a sweep through a broad basin, which, long before 
 the memory of man, was washed by alluvial depos- 
 its. Natural terraces rise from the banks to wooded 
 highlands east and west. Even when encircled by 
 primeval forest, this open valley must have had its 
 own charm for those who recalled the peaceful 
 scenery of Old England. Native elms stood here 
 and there in the green meadows, groups of walnut 
 trees followed the brooks. The silver stream, its 
 gentle current unbroken by rocks or rapids, was 
 bordered by sparkling sands and rich verdure. 
 
 In such surroundings the new town was begun. 
 Its generous plan may have been in remembrance 
 of the good old times when every English village 
 had its common, before the inclosures of later years
 
 OUR ANCESTRY OF FREEMEN. 7 
 
 had robbed the poor man of his birthright. The 
 founders of Old Hadley laid out its broad street 
 sixteen rods wide, leaving in the centre a strip of 
 grass where village cows and geese could roam. It 
 stretched from bank to bank of the great river 
 curve, five miles in length, which incloses the 
 meadow-land. English elms, patriarchs to-day, were 
 planted in a double row along the highways border- 
 mg the green, and bestowed upon the village a 
 wealth of shade which has made it the pride of the 
 country-side. Spacious houses were erected on the 
 street ; pasture land for common use inclosed on 
 the edge of the wilderness ; a meeting-house was 
 erected, and the government of the town estab- 
 lished, in the free and independent form already 
 dear to the colonist. 
 
 The river, navigable at the time for good-sized 
 boats, formed a means of communication with the 
 towns below. 
 
 Fertile fields, abundant forests and streams, fur- 
 nished support to a hard-working and frugal popu- 
 lation. Openings for trade were developed. Had 
 it not been for the Indian atrocities which struck 
 terror to all unprotected villages, peace and pros- 
 perity would have prevailed. 
 
 King Philip's War burst upon New England 
 with fire and sword. The towns planted along the 
 Connecticut suffered most. 
 
 In connection with one of these attacks, that 
 picturesque event occurred which has made Hadley
 
 8 UNDER A COLONIAL ROOF-TREE. 
 
 memorable. Tradition tells that one of those fasts, 
 common at that period in any time of public peril, 
 had called together all the inhabitants in the meet- 
 ing-house. This building stood in the middle of 
 the green. While all were engaged in prayer, a 
 band of Indians stealthily approached the place, and 
 discovered how favorable was the opportunity for an 
 attack. Not a breath of suspicion disturbed the 
 devout congregation within. But one eye, alert and 
 trained in mihtary service, detected the advance of 
 the savages. An alarm was sounded, and as the 
 men rushed in confusion from the church they 
 found at their head, in command, a stranger, "a 
 grave, elderly person, in his mien and dress differ- 
 ent from the rest of the people. He not only en- 
 couraged them to defend themselves, but put him- 
 self at their head, raUied, instructed, and led them 
 to encounter the enemy, who by this means were 
 repulsed." Suddenly as he had appeared the 
 stranger vanished. In the hurry and confusion, the 
 brief alarm and sudden relief, only one explanation 
 could be found for the apparition. As " the Angel 
 of Hadley " he was long referred to. It was many 
 years later that the fact for the first time became 
 known that, in the house of old Parson Russell, two 
 of the judges of Charles I. had been concealed. 
 There seems little doubt that it was Goffe, the 
 younger of the two, who saved the village on this 
 occasion. To the brave old minister who risked so 
 much to afford them shelter, there must have seemed
 
 OUR ANCESTRY OF FREEMEN". 9 
 
 after this event a special significance in the admo- 
 nition, " Be not forgetful to entertain strangers, for 
 thereby some have entertained angels unawares." 
 Goffe and Whalley left England before Charles II. 
 was proclaimed king, but heard of his restoration 
 when they arrived at Boston. A pardon was at 
 first expected, and they were honorably received by 
 Governor Endicott. Whalley was a cousin of Crom- 
 well, and one of his heutenant-generals. Goffe, who 
 married his daughter, was a major-general. Both 
 men were distinguished for firmness, courage, and 
 religious devotion. 
 
 When it appeared that their names were not in- 
 cluded in the act of indemnity, it was no longer safe 
 for them to remain at large in the colonies. War- 
 rants were issued, and two young and zealous royal- 
 ists undertook to aj)prehend them. A thorough 
 search was made along the western frontier, and 
 while they were under Parson Russell's roof inquiry 
 was made there for them. There is some susjDicion 
 that in this case their pursuers were not eager to 
 find them, for tradition has it " that they sought as 
 those who sought not." 
 
 Their first refuge with Parson Davenport, of New 
 Haven, soon became known, and threatened danger 
 to him. To clear him of further question the regi- 
 cides showed themselves publicly, and then found 
 concealment in a cave in the neighborhood. Here 
 some Indians came upon their traces and they were 
 again in peril. Rev. John Russell, probably through
 
 10 UNDER A COLONIAL ROOF-TREE. 
 
 his friend Mr. Davenport, had already offered them 
 a hiding-place, and his home, at a hundred miles' 
 distance, was comparatively remote. Thither they 
 made their way, traveling by night, and arriving 
 October 13, 1664. This was only two years after 
 the town was settled, and they remained there cer- 
 tainly till 1679. The last record of Gotf e is a letter 
 written on April 2d, and dated "Ebenezer," the 
 name which he always gave to his place of refuge. 
 Governor Hutchinson, in his " History of Massachu- 
 setts Bay," mentions that Dixwell also, another of 
 the judges who took refuge in the colonies, was for 
 a short time concealed at the parsonage. 
 
 Hutchinson had in his possession Goffe's diary, 
 kept while at Hadley, which recorded every little 
 event which occurred in the church and among the 
 villaofe families. This document would be now of 
 great value, but it was burned at the time the gov- 
 ernor's library was destroyed by a mob. A letter 
 written to Goffe from England, by his vnie, is de- 
 scribed by Palfrey as " tender, magnanimous, and 
 devout, scarce to be read without tears." 
 
 It is supposed that Whalley died while at the par- 
 sonage, and was interred in the cellar. As late as 
 the end of the next century, Dr. D wight mentions 
 that he had talked with a man who discovered there 
 human remains w^liile removing a wall. The cham- 
 ber in which the refugees lived so long had secret 
 access above and below, so that escape might be 
 made either way. The frame of the building, now
 
 OUR ANCESTRY OF FREEMEN. 11 
 
 converted into a tavern, is still pointed out on the 
 broad village street. 
 
 It was in September, 1679, that the rescue at 
 Hadley took place. The first written account of it 
 is found in a foot-note to Hutchinson's History. He 
 there says : " I am loath to omit an anecdote handed 
 down through Governor Leverett's family. I find 
 Goffe takes notice in his journal of Leverett's being 
 in Hadley." 
 
 The romance of the event attracted the fancy of 
 Sir Walter Scott, and he describes it at length, with 
 many details manifestly incorrect, through the mouth 
 of Major Bridgenorth, in " Peveril of the Peak." 
 The most serious mistake is that in which he makes 
 Whalley and not Goffe the hero of the adventure. 
 As relatives and companions, the confusion might 
 easily occur ; but the date settles the matter, as, ac- 
 cording to Stiles's " History of the Three Judges," 
 Whalley was superannuated in 1675. Scott in a 
 note refers to Cooper's use of the incident in " The 
 Wept of Wish-ton-Wish." It was probably many 
 years after Parson Russell's death that his share in 
 the concealment of the regicides became known. 
 The stanch old Puritan was buried in the graveyard 
 (then new, now covered with moss-grown slabs) of 
 the town which he had assisted to lay out. Over his 
 resting place is a large tablet, formed of the soft red 
 sandstone of the district, and inscribed in the rude 
 style of those times. 
 
 Whether the secret he carried so long was ever
 
 12 UNDER A COLONIAL ROOF-TREE. 
 
 committed to paper by him is not known, as the 
 village records were afterwards destroyed in the 
 burning of the parsonage. The story of Goffe's 
 apparition, however, remains as an unquestioned 
 tradition in the community. A descendant, born in 
 the house with which these chronicles are associated, 
 remembers hearing it in his youth from an old man 
 who had held the legend since liis own boyhood, and 
 whose grandfather must have been living when the 
 mystery was first revealed. 
 
 In this same homestead the story was in all prob- 
 ability directly transmitted from an authentic source, 
 inasmuch as its first occupant was a grand-daughter 
 of Parson Russell's third wife, Phoebe Gregson. She 
 was the daughter of a citizen of New Haven, active 
 in the planting of the colony, and interested in pro- 
 moting its prosperity through trade with England. 
 For that object he took passage with others ap- 
 pointed to secure royal patents. The vessel was 
 never again heard from, but tradition runs that it 
 was seen as a spectre ship in New Haven harbor, 
 after a prayer-meeting held in behalf of the crew. 
 
 Phoebe became the Avife of Rev. John Whitinof 
 who graduated from Harvard College in 1668. His 
 father, Wilham Whiting, had been treasurer of the 
 Hartford colony, and there his son's pastorate was 
 spent. Phoebe was his second wife, and after his 
 death became the third wife of Parson Russell, 
 whom she survived for many years. She removed to 
 her early home, New Haven, to the house of her son
 
 OUR ANCESTRY OF FREEMEX. 13 
 
 Joseph. It is probable, however, that associations 
 with HacUey were always kept up, as her step- 
 dauo-hter married a son of Parson Russell, and in 
 the next century her grand-daughter came there as 
 a bride. This Elizabeth was the daughter of Eliza- 
 beth Whiting, whose parents were Phoebe and the 
 Reverend John. She married Nathaniel Pitkin, the 
 son of William Pitkin, a leading man in the Hart- 
 ford colony and the founder of the family in this 
 country. In the genealogical history of his de- 
 scendants, a copy is given of a letter, still preserved, 
 which was written to him from England in 1667. It 
 is addressed as follows : — 
 
 ffor 
 William Pitkin at 
 
 Hartford Town neare 
 neare Coneticut river 
 Leave this with Mr. Thomas 
 Smyth neare the Spring 
 in Boston 
 in New England 
 
 This spring, the same which was flowing at the 
 time the new post-of6.ce was built, was in Spring 
 Lane, near Governor Winthrop's house. It is thus 
 pleasantly described by Drake. He speaks of " the 
 ancient Spring-gate, the natural fountain at which 
 no doubt Madam Winthrop and Anne Hutchinson 
 filled their flagons for domestic use. The gentle- 
 men may have paused here for friendly chat, if the 
 rigor of the governor's opposition to the schismatic
 
 14 UNDEK A COLONIAL EOOF-TREE. 
 
 Anne did not forbid. The handmaid of Elder 
 Thomas Oliver, Winthrop's next neighbor on the 
 opposite corner of the Spring-gate, fetched her 
 pitcher, like another Rebecca, from this well. Grim 
 Richard Brackett, the jailer, may have laid down 
 his halberd for a mornino; drauoht." 
 
 In the will of Nathaniel Pitkin this quaint pro- 
 vision is made : " And whereas there is in my pos- 
 session one great brass kettle, one two-eared silver 
 cup, and divers other things, all of which may be 
 found entered in a small paper book, folio 2, which 
 said goods were never my estate, but were given by 
 my honored mother-in-law Mrs. Russell, deceased, to 
 my daughter Ehzabeth Pitkin, which said goods I 
 desire my wife to take into her care in trust for my 
 said daughter," etc. 
 
 This brass kettle must have o;one with his dauofh- 
 ter to her new home, for it may be seen to this day 
 under the eaves of the house which was built for 
 her, carefully preserved among many other relics. 
 
 Of her arrival at Hadley as a bride, a story is 
 told which illustrates customs of that time. Comino- 
 from Hartford, the young couple were met at Moun- 
 tain-gate, the entrance into the valley, by a party of 
 welcome from the village. One of the youths by 
 some artifice persuaded her to mount the pillion of 
 his horse, and then leaping on before, he rode off 
 with his i)rize, accomplishing the trick of " stealing 
 the bride," much to the confusion of the lady who 
 was thus introduced to her new home.
 
 OUR ANCESTRY OF FREEMEN. 15 
 
 Her husband, who is described as of a " mirthful 
 but devout disposition," probably entered into the 
 spirit of this rude pleasantry. He was the great- 
 grandson of one of the founders of the town, which 
 had now nearly reached its first century of exist- 
 ence. John Porter was a Windsor colonist, and 
 served as grand juror and recorder. His son Sam- 
 uel, in the settlement of Hadley, was assigned a 
 valuable lot in the centre of the villag-e. He is men- 
 tioned in the record of the General Court as " hav- 
 ing been assiduous in caring for wounded persons 
 during the Indian wars, giving much himself for the 
 purpose." 
 
 He was a Justice of the Peace, the first of a long 
 line in the town of the same family who held that 
 office for two hundred years. This is an honorable 
 distinction for any lineage to possess, as it imjDlies 
 faithfulness to the interests of the community and 
 the confidence of the public. Humble as the service 
 may seem, it has been said of it that "^ it embodies 
 perhaps the highest conception in the AngUcan civil 
 system. It rejjresents the peace of society as con- 
 ditioned in justice, and there was a deep significance 
 in the formula in which the old writs ran, ' in the 
 peace of God and the Commonwealth.' " 
 
 The second Samuel grew up to be an extensive 
 trader, leaving behind him " the immense estate of 
 <£ 10,000." The wedding of his son Aaron, a min- 
 ister, is described by Chief Justice Sewall in his 
 diary.
 
 IG UNDER A COLONIAL ROOF-TREE. 
 
 The early Porter residences were all in the broad 
 village street. But when young Moses looked about 
 for a place to establish himself, he selected a spot 
 two miles northward. Up to this date, fear of the 
 Indians had prevented the inhabitants of the valley 
 towns from building outside the settlements. Stock- 
 ades for defense had been abandoned, but fields 
 could not be cleared or labor done with safety. 
 Attacks of the Canadians and savag-es were made 
 when least expected. Between the Connecticut and 
 Lake George were as yet no habitations. 
 
 By the year 1752, security seemed to be as- 
 sured. Two miles above Hadley meeting-house lay 
 a common pasturage, fenced across at the north 
 and south, with gates at the highway. The river 
 formed one boundary, and on the east a deep ditch 
 was dug at the edge of the clearing, to prevent the 
 cattle from straying into the wilderness. Traces of 
 this trench are still plainly to be seen back of 
 " Pleasant Hill." 
 
 The meadow known as "Forty Acres," but in 
 fact considerably larger hi extent, became open to 
 purchase, with the rest of the inclosure. Such a 
 sheltered intervale offered many charms for a per- 
 manent dwelling-place. 
 
 Through chestnut slopes descending from Mt. 
 Warner, clear streams found their way to the broad 
 river, navigable for various kinds of craft and 
 abounding in fish. Arable land, enriched each year 
 by the spring freshets, rolled in smooth undulations
 
 
 i;^ 
 
 ?^=U 
 
 
 s^-===^ 
 
 [- 
 
 i'-i', ' ^ 
 
 THE ENTRANCE TO THE WOODS
 
 OUR ANCESTRY OF FREEMEN. 17 
 
 back to the woodland. Lofty trees stood here and 
 there among the verdure, and waving willow and 
 maple fringed the sloping shore. In the distance 
 could be seen the bold outlines of successive ranges 
 of hills towards the setting sun, and the misty peaks 
 of the Green Mountains. 
 
 In such surroundings one is reminded of the 
 lines : — 
 
 " Peace trills in the songs of the Yalleys, 
 And freedom blows from the hills." 
 
 From her Hartford home to so secluded a spot 
 must have been a change to Elizabeth Pitkin. 
 There were no dwelHngs between there and the vil- 
 lage. The nearest houses were across the river at 
 Hatfield. There, in the century before, one of the 
 most unexpected attacks of the Indians had been 
 made. On a lovely September day, while the men 
 were harvesting corn in the meadows, a band of 
 savages attacked the houses outside the stockade, 
 and carried away to Canada twenty-one people, 
 mostly women and children. Their long and pain- 
 ful march through the chill autumn weather, the 
 vicissitudes of the brave scouts who followed them 
 through bitter frost and peril of starvation, form 
 a thrilling tale of adventure. They were brought 
 back the following spring with rejoicing through 
 all the country, a party going towards Albany to 
 meet them. 
 
 Two children, born in exile, and named Captiv- 
 ity and Canada, grew up to womanhood, and their
 
 18 UNDER A COLOXIAL HOOF-TREE. 
 
 descendants and those of other captives are still liv- 
 ino' in the villajje. 
 
 Althonghj by the year 1765, direct depredations 
 from the north had ceased in this neighborhood, 
 uneasiness was felt along the frontier at the dispo- 
 sition of the French to encroach on the territory of 
 the British Colonies. To defend its possessions, the 
 mother-country sent over General Braddock. 
 
 In the campaign that he inaugurated, an attack 
 on Crown Point was one of the four lines of military 
 strategy contemplated. For this enterprise Massa- 
 chusetts was ready with her volunteers, and 4,500 
 men enlisted. 
 
 Among other troops sent from New England, 
 Israel Putnam was private in a Connecticut regi- 
 ment, and John Stark, afterwards the hero of Ben- 
 nington, accompanied the Green Mountain recruits. 
 
 Parkman thus describes the men who went forth 
 to encounter the discipHned ranks of the French 
 regulars, and the fierce and treacherous warfare of 
 their savage allies : — 
 
 " These soldiers were no soldiers, but farmers and 
 farmers' sons, who had volunteered for the summer 
 campaign. One of the corps had a blue uniform 
 faced Avith red. The rest wore their daily clothing. 
 They had no bayonets, but carried hatchets in their 
 belts as a sort of substitute. At their sides were 
 slung powder-horns, on which, in the leisure of the 
 camp, they carved quaint devices with the points of 
 their jack-knives. They came chiefly from plain
 
 OUR ANCESTRY OF FREEMEN. 19 
 
 New England homesteads, — rustic abodes, un- 
 painted and dingy, witli long well-sweeps, capacious 
 barns, rough fields of pumpkin and corn, and vast 
 kitchen chimneys, above which, in winter, hung 
 squashes to keep them from frost, and guns to 
 keep them from rust." 
 
 Moses Porter received a commission as captain of 
 a Hadley company. One of the village boys, who 
 saw him in his officer's uniform, was so impressed 
 with his appearance that he told the tale in after 
 years of how Captain Porter marched away to the 
 wars. But it was a lonely and sorrowful home 
 which was left behind. In letters written to him in 
 camp, his wife speaks of the dark face of some 
 wandering Indian seen occasionally at night pressed 
 against the window pane. Remembering that it 
 was against these wily foes that her husband was 
 fighting, it must have given her a thrill of appre- 
 hension. 
 
 It was only three years after the building of their 
 house that Captain Porter was called away. In Sep- 
 tember, 1755, occurred the battle at Crown Point. 
 
 The British troops were under the command of 
 General Johnson ; their adversaries were led by 
 Dieskau. About ei2:ht o'clock on the mornino; of 
 the 6th, the encounter took place. Parkman gives 
 a vivid description of the fatal scene. Speaking 
 of the troops under Dieskau he says : — 
 
 " They moved rapidly on through the waste of 
 pines, and soon entered the rugged valley that led
 
 20 UNDER A COLONIAL ROOF-TREE. 
 
 to Johnson's camp. At their right was a gorge, 
 where, shadowed by bushes, gurgled a gloomy brook ; 
 and beyond were the cliffs that buttressed the rocky 
 heights, seen by glimpses between their boughs. 
 
 On the left rose gradually the lower slopes of 
 West Mountain. All was rock, thicket, and forest. 
 There was no open space but the road along which 
 the Regulars marched, while the Canadians and In- 
 dians pushed their way through the woods in such 
 order as the broken ground would permit. 
 
 They were three miles from the lake when their 
 scouts brought in a prisoner, who told them that a 
 column of EngHsh troops was approaching. Dies- 
 kau's preparations were quickly made. While the 
 Regulars halted on the road, the Canadians and In- 
 dians moved to the front, where most of them hid 
 in the forest among the slojies of West Mountain, 
 and the rest lay close among the thickets on the 
 other side. 
 
 Thus, when the English advanced to attack the 
 Regulars in front, they Avould find themselves caught 
 in a double ambush. No sight or sound betrayed 
 the snare ; but behind every bush crouched a Cana- 
 dian or a savage, with gun cocked and ears intent, 
 listening for the tramp of the approaching column. 
 
 In the British van were their allies, the Mohawks. 
 It is said that Dieskau's Iroquois, seeing their rela- 
 ,tions, wished to warn them of their danger. If so, 
 the warning came too late. The muskets on the 
 left blazed out a deadly fire, and the men fell by
 
 OUR ANCESTRY OF FREEMEN. 21 
 
 scores. In the words of Dieskau, the head of the 
 column ' was doubled up like a pack of cards.' 
 
 The men in the rear pressed forward to support 
 their comrades, when a hot fire was suddenly opened 
 on them from the forest along their right flank. 
 Then there was a panic ; some fled outright, and the 
 whole column recoiled. The van now became the 
 rear, and all the force of the enemy rushed upon it, 
 shouting and screeching. 
 
 There was a moment of total confusion, but a 
 part ralHed, fighting behind trees like Indians, and 
 firing and falling back by turns, bravely aided by 
 some of the Mohawks and by a detachment which 
 Johnson sent to their aid. ' And a very handsome 
 retreat they made,' writes Setli Pomeroy, of North- 
 ampton, ' and so continued till they came within 
 about three quarters of a mile of the camp.' 
 
 So ended the fray long known in New England 
 fireside story as ^ The Bloody Morning Scout.' " 
 
 Among those who fell, tradition says by the hand 
 of an Indian, was Moses Porter. 
 
 Six days later the news reached Hadley. No 
 relic of the officer but his sword was ever returned. 
 His body was left among the slain ; a gravestone in 
 the village burying-ground bears the date of his 
 death. When the mortal remains of Elizabeth Por- 
 ter were taken from the home where she had lived a 
 widow for forty-three years, they were placed in a 
 boat, rowed down the silent river, and laid beside 
 that stone. The shadow of her early grief never
 
 22 UNDER A COLONIAL ROOF-TREE. 
 
 left li«r. She bore always a saddened aspect and a 
 sorrowing heart. We find her mother's grave be- 
 tween the ♦family lot and the tombstone of Parson 
 Russell, her stepfather. By the date it appears that 
 she, also, was taken soon after the homestead was 
 built. Orphaned and alone, the widow was left with 
 the care of her young daughter and the manage- 
 ment of a large estate. 
 
 We can easily form a picture of their home. The 
 house, although enlarged and improved at various 
 times in later years, Avas originally of ample size. 
 Its main structure bore the same features as at the 
 present day, excepting that the gambrel roof was 
 added in the next century. The style was similar to 
 that of the old family mansions in Hadley Street. 
 A broad hall, with an open stairway leading to the 
 floor above, divided good-sized rooms on either hand, 
 a " parlor bedroom," and the " Long Room," only 
 used for state occasions. Another hall at a right 
 angle led to the little door-yard filled with lilacs and 
 syringas. 
 
 This south entrance had its flagged walk, and 
 small gate opening into a large space where car- 
 riages drove up. The front door, with its big brass 
 knocker, was seldom used ; the grass grew close up 
 to the steps of the white porch. In a wing at the 
 rear stood a huge chminey, occupying space enough 
 for a small room, with great fireplace and ovens. 
 Another large chimney was erected when the present 
 kitchen, cheese-room, etc., were added.
 
 OUR ANCESTRY OF FREEMEN. 23 
 
 An inclosed, piazza, with seats along- th'^ sides, 
 known as the " stoop," extended along the whole 
 western lenoth of the house. In han'sst time a 
 long table was set there for the reapers. All through 
 the summer the churning, washing, and other house- 
 hold work were there carried on. At nightfall it 
 afforded a orateful retreat after the labors of the 
 day. 
 
 To those of later generations it has been a favor- 
 ite social gathering-place at that hour. Then the 
 mist deepens in the quiet meadows as the crimson 
 glow fades in the west. In the village across the 
 river, the slender spire stands out distinct against 
 the sky. Through the stillness we may hear the 
 tread of horses' hoofs crossmg the bridge by the 
 mill a mile away. The clear notes of the thrush 
 sound from the trees along the shore. The Whately 
 hiUs grow dark in the twilight, the first star ap- 
 pears above the elm-trees. On a Sunday evening, 
 or a prayer-meeting night, come across the water the 
 harmonious accents of a church bell. 
 
 " When the old bell spoke to us, it was mostly 
 on grave themes. Its voice was always the same, 
 solemn, tender, peaceful, and to me inexpressibly 
 sweet. It was a perpetual monitor speaking to our 
 higher nature. How many times I have sat in the 
 old stoop, spell-bound after the tolling began, until 
 its last note had ceased. I used often to get my 
 sermon before others had begun to listen. I had 
 a fancy that the water lent a liquid softness to the
 
 24 UNDER A COLONIAL ROOF-TREE. 
 
 tones which they would not otherwise have had. If 
 I was harassed and vexed with cares, it bade me be 
 calm and patient j to jjassion it said peace. When 
 in melancholy moods its song was one of hope. If 
 I were becoming absorbed in a mere worldly life, a 
 single note, lightly heeded, would be enough to 
 prove its emptiness and vanity." 
 
 The house was placed some rods back from the 
 highway on a little knoll. An orchard and garden 
 were laid out on the north, and shade-trees planted 
 in front. Between the great barn, wdth its various 
 outbuildings, and the dwelhng, was left a wide 
 grassy space which has been for generations shaded 
 by magnificent elms. Between that and the street 
 a large sheep-yard was inclosed. Green meadows 
 stretched to the river, and pasture and woodland 
 abounded in the opposite direction. 
 
 It was such an estate, sufficient for a comfortable 
 support, yet requiring care and superintendence, 
 which was left to the widow and her young 
 daughter.
 
 e»i..;/34'.,a^i 
 
 
 THE SPIRE OF HATFIELD CHURCH
 
 A DIARY OF LONG AGO. 
 
 Old events have modern meanings ; only that survives 
 Of past history which finds kindred in all hearts and lives. 
 
 James Russell Lo\vell. 
 
 Nothing appeals more quickly to sentiment, or 
 awakens a deeper spirit of reflection, than to peruse 
 the actual record of past life written in the faded 
 ink of bygone years, phrased in the quaint lan- 
 guage of an earlier time, and registered with the un- 
 consciousness of a private journal. Such a manu- 
 script, written in a close, stiff hand, on pages yellow 
 with age and stitched together in home-made brown- 
 paper covers, was fomid stored away under the gar- 
 ret eaves of the old roof-tree. Five volumes cover 
 the record of forty-nine years, from girlhood to old 
 age. Beginning at sixteen, Elizabeth Porter kept 
 for nearly half a century a weekly chronicle, written 
 on Sunday and gi\ang a sketch of the events of the 
 preceding week. She invariably set down the text 
 of the sermon she had heard, sometimes by chapter 
 and verse, in later years copied in full with some 
 short account of the discourse. 
 
 The first date is October 16, 1763, the last Apiil 
 5, 1812. Brief as are the weekly entries, they 
 convey very perfectly an impression of life in the
 
 26 UNDER A COLONIAL ROOF-TREE. 
 
 colonial times, during the Revolution, and in the 
 period following. 
 
 The opening pages, penned by a young girl just 
 developing into womanhood, give a pleasant picture 
 of neighborly life. Although the home was in a sol- 
 itary situation, and the mother a saddened Avidow, 
 the days were not lacking in variety. Kinsfolk in 
 the village seem to have been full of kindly interest 
 in the fatherless child. There were cousins at three 
 houses, — the squire's, the lawyer's, and the parson's. 
 These households are constantly mentioned. The 
 wife of lawyer Porter was a daughter of Jonathan 
 Edwards. This and other connections gave the ad- 
 vantage of the best society of those days. 
 
 The mode of intercourse seems far simpler and 
 more unconstrained than at the present time. Ac- 
 quaintances rode from town to town and stayed for 
 a whole day, entering into the homely occupations 
 of the family. 
 
 April 22, 1767. " Came here Miss Pen and Miss 
 Polly to help me quilt a dark brown quilt." 
 
 May 26. " We received a visit from Mr. Jewet and 
 his son, with divers others that Avaited on them." 
 
 June 16. " For the afternoon, Polly and Sally 
 Wilhams came here, and we all went strawberry- 
 mg. 
 
 Wednesday she again went for strawberries. 
 Thursday she watched with a sick man in the 
 village. 
 
 Wednesday, July 26, was a quilting. Thursday
 
 A DIARY OF LONG AGO. 27 
 
 a huckleberrying. The next week another quilting. 
 Visitors come and go, among them " Miss Biah 
 Chapin, a pretty young woman from Springfield." 
 Friends from a distance come and " tarry " for a 
 while. Miss Polly is often mentioned. Other 
 names are characteristic of a period long passed, — 
 Experience, Dorcas, Abigail, Salome, Tabitha, Sub- 
 mit, Jerusha, Electy, Thankful. On one occasion 
 we find the suggestive record, " Silence went home 
 and Patience came." 
 
 In November begin the singing meetings, at that 
 time the favorite recreation of the young people dur- 
 ing the winter. In a community where neither 
 cards nor dancing were ever heard of, this diversion 
 was very popular. 
 
 February 14, 1768, comes a " singing lecture. A 
 great many strangers attended it and very much ap- 
 plauded it. After meeting, drank tea at Esquire 
 Porter's with a large number of ladies." 
 
 Social occasions at home and abroad occur with 
 frequency through the cold weather. Companies 
 from the neighboring towns are hospitably received. 
 
 Of one of the formal tea-drinkings a grandson has 
 written out his recollections : — 
 
 " One might infer that at this period, when the 
 Puritan element still prevailed with considerable 
 rigor, Thanksgiving being over, there would not 
 be much to break in upon the monotony of the 
 long winter months. This, however, was not the 
 case. Winter was the time for making tea parties
 
 28 UNDER A COLONIAL ROOF-TREE. 
 
 ou a large and generous scale. They were not like 
 our modern receptions, where seats are supposed to 
 be a superfluity ; or like our sociables, when people 
 are invited to meet together and pay for the enter- 
 tainment. The old-fashioned tea party, in order to 
 aro off well, must not number less than ten or fifteen 
 couples. We were living' two miles out, so some 
 one must be sent the day before to give the invita- 
 tions. Many were the discussions and consultations 
 in respect to the weather, for if a storm should inter- 
 vene there would be great danger of failure. What 
 a relief it Avould have been if in those days we could 
 have had the advantages of the weather bureau ! 
 Many a tempest in a teapot, as well as on the sea, 
 might have been avoided, if our grandmothers had 
 only enjoyed the benefits of this achievement of 
 modern science. They had Thomas's Almanac, to 
 be sure, but what could Thomas do as a weather 
 prophet in the face of the weather bureau ? His 
 genius Avould certainly have paled before the stern 
 deductions of facts and figures. But the men were 
 close observers of the weather, and when they re- 
 ported the heavens favorable it generally proved so. 
 Many a time have we stood in the old ^ space ' front- 
 ing the road and listened for the bells, and strained 
 our eyes, in the duskiness of coming evening, to 
 catch sight of the first gay ' cutter ' with its comple- 
 ment of rosy faces, buffalo robes, hoods, caps, etc. 
 And how our pride was touched if the guests came 
 slowly, and there was fear lest all the hitching-posts
 
 A DIARY OF LONG AGO. 29 
 
 would not be occupied ! But they continued to 
 come until the large parlor, which was called the 
 ^ Long Room/ was completely filled wdth as good- 
 looking and contented a company as often get to- 
 gether in a country village. Of course there were 
 no centre-table or gaslights, but there were candles 
 on the mantels and on the two small tables, one at 
 each end of the room. And besides there was the 
 old fireplace with its big andirons, its two backlogs 
 and forestick, filled between with smaller wood, 
 pflowingf like a furnace, crackling" and roaring- as if 
 in very mirth in anticipation of the festive hours 
 that were to follow. 
 
 The fashion was to send tea round. This was a 
 most orderly proceeding, and was a good test of the 
 executive abiHty of the hostess. It took a strong 
 and trusty hand to carry the large waiter with its 
 precious burden of old-time chinaware filled to the 
 brim with the beverage that ^ cheers but not inebri- 
 ates.' As it is ushered in, there is a pause in the 
 hum of voices. The salver is rested for a moment 
 on a small table while the minister or some other 
 saintly person asks a blessing on the food. Then 
 the hum goes on Avith renewed vigor. The tea is 
 passed; buttered biscuit and cakes, with the etcet- 
 eras of the tea-table, follow, occupying about an 
 hour or so, after which the company change their 
 seats, assorting themselves sometimes into groups, as 
 incHnation suits, so preparing themselves for the 
 evening's gossip (I use this in a good sense, of
 
 30 UNDER A COLONIAL ROOF-TEEE. 
 
 course), or to discuss more profitable themes, as it 
 suits them. A shorter interval of apples and nuts 
 later in the evening, but before nine o'clock, fin- 
 ishes the entertainment. The horses are at length 
 brought out, impatient with their long waiting in 
 the cold. We can hardly hold them until the 
 sleigh receives its load, and at the given signal they 
 dash off to the music of merry bells and creaking 
 snow ; the weird light of the moon, as they ride 
 homeward, throwing snowdrifts, the gaunt trees 
 and their shadows, and straggling fences, into a 
 thousand shapes. Soon they are all gone, the last 
 notes of the bells are lost in the distance, and we 
 hurry into the old parlor to enjoy its unwonted 
 light. We pull away the fender, and for a little 
 while bathe ourselves in the warmth and comfort of 
 the great fire, which is slowly spending itself, but 
 whose embers still glow and gleam as if theirs had 
 been the scene of some grand holocaust. To the 
 younger part of the family at least, and quite likely 
 to the older ones also, this is the most enjoyable 
 part of the evening. We gather into a closer circle, 
 and discuss ag-ain the news of the neiffliborhood and 
 other small-talk of the departed guests. But the 
 evening wanes, the frosty winds are pushing at the 
 windows, the flickering shadows on the walls re- 
 mind us that bedtime is at hand. Reverently the 
 prayer is offered ; we scatter for the night, leaving 
 the old room to its accustomed silence and dark- 
 ness.
 
 A DIARY OF LONG AGO. 31 
 
 The old-time life, looking at it from my stand- 
 point and in its better aspects, — how simple and 
 yet how grand it was ! " 
 
 The frequent social occasions did not interfere 
 with the household work, in all of which the heads 
 of the family bore an active 23art. The substantial 
 material for clothing was manufactui'ed in the 
 house, and all the garments were cut and made 
 under the supervision of the itinerant workwomen 
 who were such a feature in the life of those days. 
 
 " Rene Parsons came here to make the o-irls' 
 surtouts." 
 
 " Mrs. Rebekah D. came here to talor ; tarried 
 till Friday." 
 
 " Lodemy came to weave." 
 
 " Mrs. H. here to weave our camblet." 
 
 A wedding outfit included the making of a " cop- 
 perplate bed-quilt." 
 
 On a visit to Boston a dressmaker is called in 
 " to make my dress plumb." 
 
 Two or three times a week she " rides into town 
 of arrands." There she also lends a hand at quilt- 
 ings. At the parsonage she helps quilt " a black 
 cassimere coat for the minister's wife." 
 
 The first break in this homely, quiet life occurs 
 in 1768, when Elizabeth was twenty-one. In the 
 month of May her cousin, Squire Porter, took a 
 party of four to Boston, including his wife, his sis- 
 ter Miss Polly, and herself. 
 
 Although the first of many visits, it must at this
 
 32 UNDER A COLONIAL ROOF-TREE. 
 
 time have seemed a great event to one brought up 
 in the seclusion of an isolated farm. 
 
 The diary runs : " Got boarding at one Mrs. Bax- 
 ter's. Saw the great carryings-on at election. Went 
 to Trinity Church. Heard one Mr. Kneeland. 
 Monday, Nehemiah W., who belongs to Cambridge 
 CoUege, came over to Boston, got a chaise, and 
 waited on us to Roxberry." 
 
 This ride in a chaise was quite a circumstance to 
 those who had hitherto made all expeditions in the 
 saddle or on a piUion. The journey of a hundred 
 miles from Hadley could at that time be taken in no 
 other way. 
 
 Tuesday they went to Cambridge in company 
 with their cousin, Lawyer Porter, who had joined 
 the party. 
 
 '•' Dined at Bradhffe's and drank tea in one Jona- 
 than Smith's chamber, who belongs to this town. 
 Mr. PhiUips, of Boston, with his wife and two sis- 
 ters. Miss Polly and Miss Nabby, they met us at 
 Cambridge by tea-time ; all drank tea together." 
 
 This Mr. Phillips is worthy of notice. President 
 Dwight says of him : " At the age of twenty-one he 
 persuaded his father and uncle to make the exten- 
 sive benefactions which founded both the academies 
 at Andover and Exeter. Of this property he was 
 the natural and presumptive heir. He was an only 
 son, and his uncle, who had no child, regarded him 
 with parental affection. In an important sense, 
 therefore, the property thus given was all his own."
 
 A DIARY OF LONG AGO. 33 
 
 The party returned home after a week's sight-see- 
 ing and visiting. 
 
 The next month, June 26th, Elizabeth went to a 
 quilting in the village, followed by a strawberrying. 
 Among the company the name of her future hus- 
 band is mentioned for the first time : " Charles 
 Phelps took Lawyer Porter's wife in a chair." A 
 riding-chair was a chaise body without a top. This 
 vehicle was no doubt the occasion of much notice, 
 as we find by the town records that it was the only 
 wheeled carriage owned in the place at that time. 
 
 Just before his marriage, the diary mentions that 
 Charles Phelps went to Boston to purchase a chaise. 
 Only five of these were owned in town till 1795, 
 and the history of Hadley gives a list of their 
 owners. 
 
 A few weeks later, EHzabeth made a visit to her 
 friend, " Miss Pen," and on her return Charles 
 Phelps takes her home, probably on a pillion, which 
 was the usual custom. 
 
 The only comment she makes on this attention is 
 the explanation, " he being a-going to Hatfield." 
 
 The Puritan reserve so characteristic of New Eng- 
 land, and also, perhaps, natural maiden modesty, 
 prevented any allusions to the subsequent courting. 
 The next time we find the name of her suitor it is 
 as follows : — 
 
 " May 13, 1770, Sunday; This day I was pub- 
 lished to Mr. Charles Phelps." 
 
 The week after, " Rebekah D. came home with
 
 'H UNDER A COLONIAL ROOF-TREE. 
 
 Hie, made ine a dark brown ducupe for my wedding- 
 gown, and a light brown tali'ety for Dolly." 
 
 This wodding-gown appears eighteen years after- 
 wards, when we find the note : " Miss Molly W. 
 here to alter my wedding-gown." Again, in 1812, 
 " Hannah altered my Avedding-gown." 
 
 There is a brief record of " preperations for 
 wedding." Then, June 14th. " A few moments 
 before four o'clock I gave my hand to Charles 
 Phelps. Polly Porter and Dorithy Phelps brides- 
 maids. We had about twenty couples at wedding. 
 Fryday we had a dinner ; the rest were all invited to 
 come in the afternoon." 
 
 The merrymaking lasted two days, and the follow- 
 ing Sunday she writes : " Many visitors this week." 
 
 The bridegroom had a large connection in North- 
 ampton, being descended from one of the oldest 
 families in the town. He himself was educated in 
 the i)rofession of the law, and received his commis- 
 sion from Governor Tryon of New York, in 1771. 
 His contemporaries in legal practice were Joseph 
 Hawley of Northampton, Oliver Partridge of Hat- 
 field, and others. He was a selectman of the town 
 and a justice of the peace. 
 
 His ancestors bear an honorable record in the 
 early history of New England. William Phelps 
 came over in the " Mary and John," and repre- 
 sented Dorchester in the General Court the first 
 year of the settlement. He removed with Mr. War- 
 ham's church to Windsor, and was one of eight to
 
 A DIARY OF LONG AGO. 35 
 
 take charge of the Hartford colony previous to the 
 establishment of the legislature. He is said to have 
 " devoted his whole time to the service of the pubhc 
 as one of its most efficient and valuable officers." 
 He aided in enacting the first laws for the colony in 
 1639, after the compact of the Connecticut River 
 towns, and was assistant to the governor in the Gen- 
 eral Assembly. His son Nathaniel moved to North- 
 ampton at the planting of that town, and was one of 
 the first deacons of the chiu-ch. The homestead, 
 which he erected in 1659, was on the ground later 
 occupied by the Gothic seminary for young ladies 
 kept by Miss Dwight. Descendants down to the 
 sixth generation occupied this home for one hundred 
 and seventy-six years. A daughter of Deacon 
 Phelps, Abigail, lived a full century in the town, 
 dying in 1756 at the age of one hundred and two. 
 
 The second Nathaniel was the oreat-gfrandfather 
 of Charles Phelps. He is mentioned as one of the 
 fathers of the town in 1707. He built a house 
 on the corner of South and Fort streets, which was 
 occupied for five generations during a period of one 
 hundred and twenty-five years. 
 
 His wife, Grace Martin, left a strong impress 
 upon the times in which she Uved. She is men- 
 tioned in early history as "a person of great reso- 
 lution, and withal a little romantic." This descrip- 
 tion, which occurs in a number of works of gene- 
 alogy and biography, always ends : " She has been 
 greatly praised by her descendants."
 
 36 UNDER A COLONIAL ROOF-TREE. 
 
 That she possessed high spirit, determination, 
 and strength of character, in no common degree, 
 seems undisputed. Whether she had also a strain 
 of unaginative sentiment, a tinge of sensibihty 
 approaching sadness, and a contradiction of mood 
 mingled with reserve, which suggested austerity, is 
 open to conjecture. Certain it is that some such 
 traits have been so apparent in her descendants 
 from time to time as to lead to theii' being traced 
 back to this grandmother whose personality was so 
 marked. 
 
 James Savage, in his genealogical researches in 
 Massachusetts, discovered, from what source we 
 know not, the following curious incident in her 
 early life. He says it is " a well-derived tradition 
 as to Grace Martin. Her lover in England was 
 false and married another. She left her native 
 land, came to our country to relatives, the respect- 
 able family of Marsh, of Hadley, but in ignorance 
 of their residence, or want of funds, or both, on 
 reaching Boston was in danger of being sold for 
 her passage before relief came from her friends. 
 One version of the story goes further, that she was 
 sold, but it is good enough without this. Her de- 
 scendants are very numerous, among whom was my 
 distinguished antiquarian friend, Sylvester Judd." 
 
 On September 30th there was another wedding 
 in the family, this time the bridesmaid of the 
 former occasion being herself the bride. The enti-y 
 reads : " Mr. Jonathan Edwards, minister at New
 
 A DIARY OF LONG AGO. ' 37 
 
 Haven, and his two deacons, and Colonel Worcester, 
 came to Hadley. They dined at Esquire Porter's, 
 and then came on to Lawyer Porter's, and Miss 
 Polly gave her hand to Mr. Edwards." This was 
 the same Miss Polly who made one of the party at 
 Cambrido-e, Her husband was a son of the elder 
 Edwards, and her brother's wife was his sister. 
 
 The cousins, who had been dear and intimate 
 friend^, are now separated. The young mistress 
 of Forty Acres begins to find herself engaged with 
 household matters. Although she has always a 
 hearty interest in her neighbors, and their joys 
 and sorrows, affairs on the farm are more fre- 
 quently referred to. During the early years of her 
 mother's widowhood, the superintendence was placed 
 in the hands of a competent man. Shortly before 
 their marriage, Mr. Phelps took charge, establishing 
 himself, after the wedding, on his wife's property. 
 He applied himself at once to develop its resources 
 and enlarge its boundaries. Nearly the whole of 
 Mt. Warner was added to the farm. Part of it 
 was cultivated, part was used for sheep pasture, 
 and a good deal more, including Pleasant Hill, was 
 kept as wood-lot. This beautiful upland, some- 
 what hke a Swiss alp in the cleared portions, has 
 always seemed a sort of fairyland to the children 
 of the family. Commanding an extensive view 
 from the rocks on the summit, sloping down to 
 a peaceful millpond, abounding in nut-ti-ees, black- 
 berry vines, sweet fern, and mountain laurel, it has
 
 38 UNDER A COLONIAL ROOF-TREE. 
 
 been a favorite haunt from early spring to late au- 
 tumn. The same pen, which has recalled so much 
 that was memorable of his boyhood, thus describes 
 it : " Mt. Warner entered largely into my early life. 
 Our supphes of fuel all came from it, and in those 
 days of open fireplaces it was a winter's work to pro- 
 A^de for those voracious consumers of wood. Then 
 the pastures were there, and every few days the cat- 
 tle must be salted. The oxen must be driven to 
 and fro, sometimes the cows, and, in the heat of the 
 season, two or three of us must go on Sunday morn- 
 ing two miles to bring home the horses to go to 
 church. If I remember rightly, the horses disliked 
 being caught as much as some of the boys did going 
 to meeting. 
 
 Then there was the washing of the sheep some 
 fine morning in June. This was rare sport, but one 
 who has read Cowper's or perhaps Thompson's 
 description of a sheep-w^ashing would hardly dare 
 attempt anything in the same line. The sheep- 
 shearing, which followed a few days after the wash- 
 ing, had its interest, too, especially for the younger 
 portions of the family. The sheep were driven 
 home and confined in a stable ; the barn floor was 
 nicely swept. Then the poor animal, trembling 
 with fright, was brought out and made to assume 
 an awkward sitting posture, where, with its back to- 
 wards and between the knees of the operator, it 
 resigns itself to its fate. Then the shearer begins 
 his deUcate task. Parting the wool under the
 
 A DIARY OF LONG AGO. 39 
 
 neck, the nimble shears work their way close to the 
 skin and beneath the matted wool, which soon be- 
 gins to fall oif around the shoulders in fleecy folds, 
 white, soft, yielding to the touch, wonderful in its 
 fresh beauty, as well as in its after uses. After the 
 neck is done the poor sheep is laid on its side ; the 
 ringing clip goes relentlessly on, until at last, re- 
 lieved of its burden, the prisoner leaps forth into 
 native liberty again, but with such diminished size 
 and uncomely proportions as to excite our hearty 
 mirth at the transformation. 
 
 Meantime the fleece, which is entire in one piece, 
 is caref idly rolled up and tied together to be sent to 
 the carding-mill or sold. 
 
 When I was a boy, my father used to raise large 
 fields of rye on Mt. Warner. The preparation of 
 the fields must have cost a great deal of work, but 
 it required stronger hands than mine to turn the 
 furrows on those sideliills and manage the team. 
 When it came to harvesting, I was of more conse- 
 quence. I could carry the water for the men, and 
 help throw the sheaves together for carting. This 
 water-carrying, by the way, was no light thing. 
 
 We used to have a great turn-out of reapers, with 
 their flashing sickles sweeping up the hill, the water 
 coming from a spring at the bottom. I used to 
 think the men drank a most unreasonable quantity. 
 
 The rye-harvest was quite an event in the work of 
 the season. I can remember several occasions when 
 the old English custom of shouting the ^ Harvest 
 home ' was observed.
 
 40 UNDER A COLONIAL ROOF-TREE. 
 
 Another thing must not be forgotten in this con- 
 nection, and that is the annual apple-gathering. We 
 had enough to do of that at home, and more, but the 
 apple-gathering at Mt. Warner was another thing. 
 
 There was the early rising, to lengthen the short- 
 ening days ; the busy preparation of bags, baskets, 
 vehicles, and provisions ; the merry company, for all 
 went that could be spared ; the long ride up and 
 back ; the dinner by the spring, so much better than 
 at home. The apples, the once famous ' Scott's 
 Sweet,' were sorted, the best being saved for winter 
 apple-sauce, and the poorer ones going into cider. 
 
 These Mt. Warner excursions and industries 
 brought us a good deal of hard work, but they had 
 their compensations and enjoyments, as have most of 
 our labors in after life if we look at them the riofht 
 way. 
 
 There was the chancre of scene : life and labor on 
 Mt. Warner, and life and labor down on the river 
 meadows, were two different things. It may not be 
 easy to define the difference, but it was positive, 
 nevertheless ; and as we all like change, this may 
 have contributed to make what might otherwise 
 have seemed hard enjoyable. 
 
 Besides this, the view from these pasture lots 
 is one of exceptional beauty. Across the fertile 
 meadows Sugar Loaf and Toby stand out boldly in 
 the north, while between them issues the river, which 
 from this point follows a straight course for several 
 miles until near North Hadley village, when it bears
 
 A DIARY OF LONG AGO. 41 
 
 away westward, and, returning again, makes one of 
 those bows of which it is so fond, and at the same 
 time incloses, on three sides, what were known in 
 those days as ' School Meadows.' 
 
 This side or eastward of the meadows was the 
 viUaa-e, and between that and the hillside where our 
 work lay, and which sloped down to its very edge, 
 was the millpond, long and irregular in shape, but 
 not without a certain beauty of its own, which water 
 almost always has. 
 
 We were within sound of the village life, and in 
 August, when the ground was being prepared for 
 sowinof, the flails of the threshers would beat time 
 all day to the musical drone of the mill. 
 
 But in the days of which I am writing, a large 
 part of Mt. Warner was covered with wood, — I will 
 not say forest, for that would imply, perhaps, a 
 larger area than existed, but to my mind they were 
 forests, and the solitudes were immense. There was 
 an air of mystery about them. I could not compass 
 or know them as I did the open fields. 
 
 And yet they were fascinating. I would not dare 
 explore their depths alone, for fear of being lost, 
 but, with one who knew them, a plunge from sun- 
 light, song, and flowers into their overhanging 
 shadows, with nothing to break the silence but 
 the distant trill of some solitary wood-thrush, was a 
 strange, awe-inspiring, and, but for the guide at my 
 side, rather a fearful experience, but with one who 
 knew the way exhilarating, a sort of tonic.
 
 42 UNDER A COLONIAL ROOF-TREE. 
 
 What a type it was of some of the after experi- 
 ences of our lives ! Only, in these later ones, it was 
 a deeper life that entered the solitudes. The shadows 
 were darker, the chill more palpable, the thickets 
 more impenetrable, and the silence absolute ; no, not 
 that, but only less, because the kind, wise Friend 
 who held us by the hand reassured and led us out 
 again with more tender recollections, with larger 
 lives, and with higher hopes, than we ever knew 
 before. 
 
 It was from the woods that we used to get our 
 supphes of birch, — not for our backs, — of winter- 
 green and sassafras, and we used to skirt the edges 
 of this unknown land to secure the necessaries of a 
 boy's inventory of goods and chattels. 
 
 But it was the nutting that gave its peculiar 
 charm to the Avoods. Chestnutting, especially, was 
 the autumn pastime. As early as July, we watched 
 for the long plume-Hke blossoms, to know if the 
 fruit were likely to be abundant. We welcomed the 
 frosts because they would open the burrs, and, later 
 in the season, the showers of wind and rain were 
 our helpers to beat off the precious Ijurden and lay 
 it at our feet. 
 
 Those Avere hours of high hope and bold adven- 
 ture, when, some fine morning in October, after a 
 storm, a party of us would start off on one of these 
 nutting expeditions. Numbers gave us daring : the 
 wooded shades were not so dark as in the suunner, 
 for the falling leaves let in more light, and Ave
 
 A DIARY OF LONG AGO. 43 
 
 should meet other companies on our way. The 
 bracing air, the pungent odor of the forest known 
 only at this season, no doubt the very exercise of 
 this faculty of search for something we might call 
 fOur own, all contributed to give a zest to these ex- 
 cursions, which is known only to youth and inex- 
 perience. 
 
 Then the sense of beauty was constantly stimu- 
 lated and gratified. I beg you do not laugh at 
 me for expatiating on the beauty of chestnut burrs ; 
 but they are like some unlovable people who never 
 open and show theii* beauty and sweetness imtd just 
 before they drop into their graves. It is something 
 so with these chestnut burrs and their contents ; woe 
 to the boy who steps on one of them barefooted ! 
 but show me one whose eyes will not ghsten with 
 delight at the sight of one of these freshly fallen 
 prickly globes, full-packed with meat, and opened 
 just enough to show the white satin lining in which 
 sleep these beauties of the wood, and I will confess 
 that we live in a degenerate age. 
 
 The color of the chestnut, you know, is a syno- 
 nym for the richest brown, and the silken scarf 
 which covers the neck is as soft as the eider's down. 
 I think there is nothing that can give us a more im- 
 pressive sense of the inherent love of beauty that 
 dwells in the divine nature than these chance speci- 
 mens, as I may almost call them, — the lining of a 
 chestnut-burr, which the weather will spoil in a few 
 hours ; or the frost etchings upon a window, so
 
 44 UNDER A COLONIAL ROOF-TREE. 
 
 exquisite sometimes in their outline, and yet which a 
 breath a\411 dissolve. 
 
 Mt. Warner has no caves or other natural curios- 
 ities, that I know of, exceptmg two large boulders, 
 lying, one in the pasture, and the other in the 
 wood, near the top of the mountain. The latter 
 went by the name of ' John's Rock,' because, as the 
 family tradition said, my grandfather's gardener, a 
 Scotchman, used to visit it on Sundays and take his 
 naps there. The curiosity about those boulders is 
 that they are of a different formation from the sui-- 
 rounding rock, and e^ddently came from Toby or 
 Sugar Loaf, wdiicli I think are of volcanic origm." 
 
 The following allusion to Mt. Warner is found in 
 the diary : — 
 
 " In the afternoon, my husband carried me up to 
 our mountaui farm ; walked tlu'ough much of it ; saw 
 a fine prospect of wheat. Oh that it might come 
 to maturity and we enjoy it ! I am almost purposed 
 to look around and see how many blessings we have. 
 God, give one blessing more, even the best ! " 
 
 The expressions of humble and earnest piety 
 which characterize the private heart-searchings and 
 the home chronicle of Ehzabeth's Hfe are frequent. 
 They are sometimes clothed in the quaint language 
 of the time, but are uniformly unaffected and sin- 
 cere. On her birthday, November 20, 1768, she 
 writes : — 
 
 " Satterday. This day one-and-twenty years of 
 age. As I grow in years may I grow in Grace and
 
 A DIARY OF LONG AGO. 45 
 
 may the time past of my life more than suffice to 
 me to have wrouoht the will of the Flesh." 
 
 Soon after her marriage she receives from a friend 
 whom she visited an admonition on " the vanity of 
 great appearance ; may it be a warning to me never 
 to value myself for grandeur." 
 
 After the children came, we find the following 
 tender gratitude : — 
 
 " This day after meeting, our boys came home, 
 told us the wolves had destroyed a number of our 
 sheep and lambs. But, thanks be to God, 'tis not 
 our house lambs." 
 
 In the church, special thanksgivings and fasts 
 were frequent. 
 
 " June 9th, Sunday. This day there was thanks 
 returned to Almighty God for his mercy in not 
 suffering the hurricane, which was at Mountain 
 Gate the night before, to tear them quite to pieces, 
 thou2'h it did considerable mischief." 
 
 From the reports of the sermons, the favorite 
 theme seems to have been the terrors of judgment. 
 Great efforts were made to alarm the impenitent. 
 The guilty were openly rebuked from the pulpit, 
 and backsliders held up to condemnation. 
 
 September 18, 1768, Mr. Hopkins preached two 
 rousing sermons, " reproached all equally, but es- 
 pecially the sin of lying," two persons he had refer- 
 ence to being present in the congregation. 
 
 There was, in those days, open concern about 
 personal security in spiritual matters.
 
 46 UNDER A COLONIAL EOOF-TREE. 
 
 They met for prayer at a private house for one 
 " who seems to be m a despau-ing way." Mental 
 eloucling-over ahnost invariably took this form. 
 
 '' A meeting was called on La^vyer Porter's ac- 
 count, who continues to be in distress for his soul." 
 
 The Puritan conscience was always awake to the 
 sense of direct accountability to its Maker. When 
 the future state of the wicked and the certainty of 
 retribution were depicted in the reahstic style com- 
 mon to New England pulj^its in the last century, 
 it is no wonder that the effect on sensitive natures 
 was sometimes overwhelming*. 
 
 If, however, gloom and despair were accompani- 
 ments of the religion of those days, there is no 
 doubt that Christian people were, hke the Hebrews, 
 sustained by an unshaken confidence in the over- 
 ruling of Divine Providence. Both loyalty to law 
 itself and to a gi'eat Law-giver were strengthened 
 by the large share given in places of worship to 
 matters of pubHc moment. Fasts were held at all 
 times of serious anxiety, sermons were preached on 
 (piestions of common Aveal, prayers and thanksgiv- 
 ings were offered. 
 
 A heavy cloud of disturbance was now gathering, 
 under whose shadow all the patriotism, resolution, 
 and devout faith of the colonists would be called 
 forth. 
 
 Only two years after the marriage of Charles 
 Phelps, the town of Hadley took pubhc action on a 
 matter of wider interest than its own local affairs.
 
 A DIARY OF LONG AGO. 47 
 
 Frequent instances had already occurred of op- 
 pression by the officials of the crown, and remon- 
 strance had been made against injustice by the peo- 
 ple of the provinces. 
 
 The Hadley freemen maintained, like the Massa- 
 chusetts Assembly, that the king to whom allegiance 
 was sworn should be the sole umpire between them 
 and the British Parliament. 
 
 They voted at town meeting, in 1772, " that our 
 grievances be made known to His Majesty." 
 
 In August, 1774, there is threatening of war. 
 The diary says : " Just at night my husband came 
 home from town with terrible news that the army of 
 forces, which are stationed in Boston, had begun to 
 fight, and were coming out into the Country spread- 
 ing destruction wherever they came. Distressing 
 night. But the Lord is our Trust." 
 
 " November 13, 1774. Publick affairs are at 
 present very dark." 
 
 Fast days are now frequently referred to, some- 
 times local, at other times appointed by the Provin- 
 cial Congress. 
 
 " April 23, 1775. In the afternoon my Husband 
 set out for Brookfield as a post, to hear what News, 
 for last Wednesday the Troops and our men had a 
 Battle, numbers lost on both sides, but it seems as if 
 we were most favored. O most gracious Lord, save 
 from the spilling of human Blood, pray save Thy 
 people, our Eyes are unto Thee." 
 
 " June 25, 1775. News has come this week from
 
 48 UNDER A COLONIAL ROOF-TREE. 
 
 our Army at Cambridge, and round about there, 
 that they had a battle hist week Satterday, about 
 fifty killed, some wounded, some taken. It is said, 
 that many more of the Regulars are killed than of 
 the provincials ; they have taken ground from our 
 men : the event is thine, most Gracious God ; we 
 are ready to view it as a frowning providence, but 
 our God, our Fathers trusted in thee, and were not 
 ashamed ; we desire to come out of ourselves, to re- 
 nounce our own strength. The Race is not to the 
 swift nor the Battle to the strong, salvation is the 
 Lord's ; we are a distressed people, extremely dry 
 we are here and there was a frost last Tuesday night 
 which has cut down almost all the corn hereabouts, 
 the most severe one I suppose ever known at this 
 season of the year. God is righteous ; may I 
 learn to rejoice in the Lord (whatever distress) and 
 joy in the God of my salvation." 
 
 "July 20, 1775. A Universal fast recommended 
 by the Continental Congress to all the English In- 
 habitants of this vast and extensive Continent." 
 
 " August 13. Friday went down to Mr. Thomas 
 Smith's to get Lydia to show me how to make a pair 
 of breeches, for the soldiers' people are sent to find 
 'em clothes." 
 
 " August 20. A number of prisoners went thro' 
 this town to Northampton gail taken from the Reg- 
 ulars." 
 
 "February 25, 1776. My husband set out for 
 Cambridge ; his team Goodrich went away with 
 loaded witli flour."
 
 A DIARY OF LONG AGO. 49 
 
 " March 3. Our men this day set out for Que- 
 beck, a number of them came and presented them- 
 selves m the broad alley. Mr. Hopkins rose and 
 told their desii'e of the prayers of the people, then 
 they bowed and went off. Bless 'em, pray Father 
 bless 'em." 
 
 " March 19. This day the Regulars left Boston, 
 which they have held as their Garrison this year. 
 Glory to God." 
 
 " May 11. Friday a Continental Fast ; a mighty 
 force it is said is coming against this land. our 
 God, they can have no might nor power against us 
 except it be given them from above. In the name 
 of the Lord of Hosts, the God of the Armies of 
 Israel, may we lift up our banners." 
 
 " July 14. Mr. Lyman preached a sermon to 
 the men that have enlisted to go to the relief of our 
 Northern Army." 
 
 " July 6, 1777. Very bad news this week ; our 
 forts at Ticonderoga given up to our enemies hand. 
 God is righteous." 
 
 " July 13th. Great part of the militia went to 
 the Northward last week." 
 
 " August 17, 1777, Sunday. Awakened this 
 morning about four o'clock with the ringing of Hat- 
 field BeU ; soon heard it was an alarm from the 
 Westward ; many men set out to go ; none of our 
 family at meeting but John the Regular Captive, and 
 Jacob (he was bound here a year ago) but I can't 
 find where the text was, all seems to be confusion."
 
 50 UNDER A COLONIAL ROOF-TEEE. 
 
 This is the only Sunday in a period of forty-seven 
 years, except in sickness, when the text of the ser- 
 mon is not carefully entered. 
 
 " August 21, 1777. The event of the late alarm 
 was that the enemy sent out a party to come and 
 destroy the outposts, but the people rose, and the 
 Lord ordered it that they met with a great defeat ; 
 drove 'em back to a wood. Not unto us, not unto 
 us, but to the Lord, be the glory thou had begun to 
 save, our eyes, pray Father, are unto Thee, we de- 
 sire to come and wait for deliverance at thy hand 
 and in thy way and time." 
 
 " September 20th. Another alarm. O Lord, I 
 tremble." 
 
 "October 19th. Dined at Col. Porter's. He 
 came just before two, confirmed the good news of 
 Burgoyne's having surrendered up his whole army. 
 Oh wonderful, wonderful, words can't express our 
 adoration and praise. Glory and Power and Might 
 be given to the Lord Almighty ! All to Thee ! All 
 to Thee ! Utterly unworthy we ! the Lord has done 
 it ; pray, Father, perfect this begun goodness. Oh 
 that all may see the hand of God. I desire to fall 
 down in astonishment ! " 
 
 The retreat of Burgoyne's army was through 
 Hadley, then on the direct road from Albany to 
 Boston. Of their march this record is made : — 
 
 "October 26, 1777. Our whole family Left 
 home to see the Regulars pass, but only the babe 
 and me."
 
 A DIARY OF LONG AGO. 51 
 
 Esquire Porter, so often referred to, was a colonel 
 in the Revolutionary War, and commanded troops 
 in the campaign against Burgoyne. When his dis- 
 tinguished adversary passed through Hadley after 
 his surrender, Colonel Porter invited him to stay 
 at his house, while the soldiers encamped in the 
 meadow. The courtesy was so generously appre- 
 ciated by the British officer that he left behind his 
 sword as a recognition of the hospitality extended 
 to him. This memento, which is of beautiful work- 
 manship, is treasured among the descendants to the 
 present tune. 
 
 In an earlier generation, before such relics became 
 of value, it lay forgotten, and was at last discovered 
 by the great-granddaughters, who now preserve it, 
 hidden in a chest between piles of blankets. 
 
 On one of his visits at home during the Revo- 
 lution, Colonel Porter brought with him a Scotch- 
 man, a prisoner of war. He entered the service of 
 Charles Phelps, and was the " Captive " previously 
 referred to. By that name he was known for some 
 time, but was remembered in later years as John 
 Morrison, the gardener. 
 
 " This was his especial business in the summer 
 season, and from what I have heard he must have 
 been bred to the employment. He was a relic of 
 the British army of the Revolution, and chose to 
 remain in this country after the war. 
 
 I doubt if at that time there was a farmer in the 
 three counties who kept a professional gardener.
 
 52 UNDER A COLONIAL ROOF-TREE. 
 
 that is, one whose exckisive business was orna- 
 mental gardening. I never knew the garden in its 
 prime, but our mother often spoke of its beauties, 
 and I can remember how sad it made her feel to 
 have those sacred precincts invaded by the unfeeling- 
 plough and boorish oxen, that would as soon tread 
 upon the fairest flower as upon a thistle. I imagine 
 old John's indignation could hardly have found 
 words to express itself, vehement as he sometimes 
 was in his speech, could he have seen the pro- 
 fanation. Why, there were few precious hands good 
 enough even to turn the sacred soil ; and as to 
 flowers, Avoe to the luckless one outside the house- 
 hold who should dare to brave his wrath by even 
 touching one of his floral treasures. 
 
 And yet he had the Scotch humor. He culti- 
 vated the sensitive plant, very rare in those days. 
 He would amuse liimself sometimes by getting one 
 unacquainted with its peculiarities to touch it, and 
 then witness the fright and sudden collapse. I 
 used to hear many of his hons mots, but remem- 
 ber only one. When any nice dish was being dis- 
 cussed, the foundation of which was ordinary mate- 
 rial, he used to say : ' You can make my old boots 
 good by putting enough butter on them.' " 
 
 Another captive, a Hessian, was brought from 
 the wars. After he settled permanently on the 
 farm, he probably sent for his wife, for it is re- 
 corded that they lived for years in a little hut at 
 the foot of Pleasant Hill. An old German Psalm
 
 THE HOUSE, FROM THE GARDEN
 
 A DIARY OF LONG AGO. 53 
 
 Book in the family library must have belonged 
 to them. They evidently retained the customs of 
 their native land, foreign to Puritan New Eng- 
 land. Mrs. Phelps mentions in the diary that she 
 and her husband took supper one Christmas Eve 
 with " Mary and Andries," perhaps at that time the 
 only celebration of the occasion in the country 
 round. An old letter describes the pitiful condition 
 of the poor woman, alone in a strange land, when 
 her husband died. 
 
 Again and again she wailed, " Mein Andries, 
 mein Andries, what shall I now doon ? " 
 
 She was tenderly cared for, taken into the large 
 house, and provided with a home during the remain- 
 der of her life. It is evident that it was a great trial 
 to a Yankee housekeeper to admit into her spotless 
 dwelling one whose peasant habits were somewhat 
 offensive. Mrs. Phelps, however, rebukes herself 
 for the struggle, and with characteristic cheerfulness 
 assumes the burden. The difficulty was increased, 
 as she says, for " she can understand so little what 
 we say, and we so poorly understand her." 
 
 There is a record in the diary of prayers offered 
 in the village meeting during the anxious time of 
 Andries' sickness, and of the solicitude with which 
 he was nursed. 
 
 Those were not the days of institutions to which 
 all classes of sufferers could be relegated, — of 
 organized relief societies, bureaus, and refuges. A 
 family like that of Charles and Elizabeth Phelps
 
 64 UNDER A COLONIAL ROOF-TREE. 
 
 provided out of their own means for those fellow- 
 creatures living in direct relation to them, and for 
 the wider circle of neighbors who were in trouble 
 or want. 
 
 Good sense and a broad spirit of charity alike 
 taught them to make allowance for the moral infirm- 
 ities consequent upon dependence, and for the in- 
 herent Aveakness of human nature. 
 
 One of those cases peculiarly difficult to deal with, 
 and often so discouraging as to be abandoned, was 
 that of a young woman wdiom Mrs. Phelps befriended 
 and brought up. For years her letters are full of 
 anxious care for " Mitty." Again and again she 
 took the girl back, under circumstances which must 
 have made her almost hopeless. Still she continued 
 to strengthen and stimulate the feeble nature, mak- 
 ing all excuses possible for that restlessness and 
 impatience of control natural to youth. In the end, 
 after several lapses, Mitty made a respectable mar- 
 riage and lived to old age, honored by her children 
 and grandchildren, and giving faithful service in the 
 family to whose head she owed so much. 
 
 Of the other hired help, Mrs. Phelps was always 
 most considerate. She praised them for their faith- 
 fulness, was solicitous for their w^elfare, and took 
 unwearied pains in the training of the young. 
 
 In later years her letters to her daughter, full of 
 domestic details, have no complaints of the servants, 
 but frequent allusions to them, satisfaction with 
 their care in her absence, messages to them, interest
 
 A DIARY OF LONG AGO. 55 
 
 in their affairs. For some time after her marriage, 
 there were several African slaves in the household, 
 who are often mentioned. In 1772 she writes : 
 " Our Peg, who has Lived with us near eighteen 
 years, of her own choice left her children and was 
 sold to one Capt. Fay with a negro man from this 
 town, for the sake of being his wife." 
 
 In 1782 notice is taken of a woman who has left, 
 " o'one off free." 
 
 A young slave girl was tenderly cared for during 
 a lingering decline, and in meeting " Prayers were 
 offered for our Phyllis being very Low." In the ex- 
 treme cold weather a great chest was made into a 
 warm bed and placed in the large kitchen, and there 
 the poor child died. 
 
 Peace was at last restored after the long public 
 disturbances. 
 
 '' December 30, 1778. Thanksgiving through all 
 the United States of America. Will the Lord be 
 pleased to bless the State of America." 
 
 Amono; the delejjates to the Continental Cono-ress 
 in Philadelphia was Charles Phelps, senior, the father 
 of Charles, by whose wife frequent mention is made 
 of him in the pages of her diary. 
 
 This singular man was endowed in a large degree 
 with that mixture of romance and resolution which 
 Grace Martin bequeathed to her descendants. The 
 history of his life is that of one whose ideal of ac- 
 tion was so high, and his adherence to it so unflinch- 
 ing, that all other considerations were set at nought.
 
 56 UNDER A COLONIAL ROOF-TEEE. 
 
 His birtlnjlace and early home were in North- 
 ampton, where he married Dorothy Root, " a lady of 
 spirit and character." Several years before the mar- 
 riage of his son Charles, he disposed of his property 
 in Hadley, where he had been residing, and took up 
 land grants on the Avestern side of the Connecticut 
 River, beyond the boundary of Massachusetts. In 
 this country, which was then a wilderness, he estab- 
 lished himself with his family. 
 
 His grandson, John Phelps, has written out an in- 
 teresting narrative connected with those days. He 
 says : " In the township of New Marlboro', at the 
 foot of the Green Mountains, with no neighbors but 
 beasts of prey, they built their cabins to shield them 
 against that most inclement climate. 
 
 Here they commenced felhng the formidable for- 
 ests around them. It was no holiday s^iort, this. 
 Nor had they any reasonable prospect of wealth to 
 incite them. Nor was it to enjoy freedom of con- 
 science that they sacrificed every hope of enjoyment 
 for an age at least ; because, at that very moment, 
 the Southern Colonies, with a more genial climate 
 and generous soil, lay equally open to their enter- 
 prise. Nations are founded as Providence orders. 
 Moved by a severe and fearless impulse, the iron 
 men and women that planted themselves among the 
 rocks and evergfreen wildernesses of New Enoland 
 had for an immediate object, no doubt, a home ; but 
 theu's was a higher ministry, unknown to them, that 
 they were performing. They were planting a nur-
 
 A DIARY OF LONG AGO. 57 
 
 sery for the propagation of nations, to be trans- 
 planted in due time to the vast and fertile valleys of 
 ' The West.' 
 
 Sixteen years of labor, toil, and hardship found 
 them in the midst of a large clearing ; fields of 
 grass and grain around them ; sheep, cattle, and 
 horses in their pastures, and pigs and poultry in 
 their yards, — the enjoyment of which, however, 
 was yet disputed by bears, wolves, catamounts, and 
 other vermin of the forest. At length, however, 
 other inhabitants had begun to settle on ^ The 
 Grants,' and other clearings had begun to dot the 
 hillsides and forests. Grinding and saw mills had 
 been erected." 
 
 In this spot, still remote from the world, Charles 
 Phelps conceived the high purpose of building and 
 endowing a college. Although it never reached 
 completion, the imagination of its projector, living 
 on the hilltops in a dream of his own creation, 
 seems to have endowed it with a glow of romance. 
 
 The following quaint account shows what an im- 
 pression was made through him on the mind of his 
 second wife, and the circumstances of their mar- 
 riage : — 
 
 " My grandmother Phelps died in 1775. The 
 family in this event suffered a great loss, which, as 
 far as my grandfather was concerned, he repaired 
 a few months after by marrying another wife, one 
 of the sweetest and most amiable of women, Mrs. 
 Anstis Eustis Kneeland, a fair and handsome widow
 
 oS UNDER A COLONIAL ROOF-TREE. 
 
 of thirty, after a romantic courtship of one day, he 
 being about sixty years of age. This hidy belcftiged 
 to the ancient and honorable family of Eustis in 
 Boston ; was the widow of a Mr. Kneeland, a re- 
 spectable printer of that place, who had died a year 
 or two before. 
 
 The mornino- after the weddino- it was announced 
 in a morning paper. As there is something even 
 in this notice that oives some idea of the char- 
 acter of the gentleman, I subjoin it : ' Married, 
 
 by the Rev. Mr. , according to the forms 
 
 of the venerable Church of Enoland, the Honorable 
 Charles Phelps, late one of his Majesty's Justices 
 of the Common Pleas, a gentleman of uncommon 
 politeness, to the interesting and accomplished Mrs. 
 Anstis Eustis Kneeland, relict of Mr. Kneeland, 
 late of Boston, printer, after a romantic Courtship 
 of 24 hours.' 
 
 It was understood in the family that it was 
 the aunt of Mrs. Kneeland, Mrs. Eustis, also a 
 widow lady, much nearer the age of my grand- 
 father, that he was in pursuit of for a wife. His call 
 at her elegant mansion was to declare this his 
 intention. This princess of a lady declined the 
 honor intended her, but politely informed him that 
 she had a niece visiting Avith her, also a widow, 
 to whom an offer of this kind mio-ht be more 
 agreeable ; and she thereupon introduced her. The 
 young lady, all covered with blushes, and trem- 
 bling with apprehension, received the salutation of
 
 A DIAKY OF LONG AGO. 59 
 
 an old gentleman, large and corpulent, six feet 
 three inches in the clear, in full bottom wig, frizzed 
 and powdered in the most approved style, either for 
 the judicial bench or ladies' drawing-room. 
 
 The announcement of the question immediately 
 followed. The lady turned pale. Her delicacy was 
 shocked. With overpowered sensations she begged 
 to withdraw a moment. Her aunt also s'entlv ob- 
 tained leave of absence and followed. After a short 
 consideration the ladies both returned. ' Judo;e 
 Phelps,' remarked the elder lady, ' we are taken by 
 surprise. The subject is deeply important. My 
 niece, although favorably impressed, asks time to 
 consider. She presumes upon your delicacy, and 
 is assured that if it at all corresponds with your 
 gallantry, you will indulge her a short space for 
 reflection, say one week, after which, if you will 
 honor us with a call, my niece — we, I mean — AviU 
 be better prepared.' 
 
 * Preparation ! Dearest madam, do me the favor 
 to commit all preparation to my care. I am so 
 happy in this respect that I have already hinted to 
 a dear friend of mine, a Presbyterian minister of 
 the Kirk of Scotland (to which Evangelical com- 
 munion I have no doubt you conform ), that I 
 may have need.' 
 
 * Not on account of the marriage of my niece, sir ! 
 By a Presbyterian ! That will never do, never, sir ! ' 
 
 Alas, how liable are the most eager hopes and ex- 
 pectations to receive a chill ! In the way of his own
 
 60 UNDER A COLOXIAL ROOF-TREE. 
 
 cherished profession, the gentleman was brought up 
 with a special demurrer here, and that by a lady. 
 
 With the astute eye of a lawyer, however, he per- 
 ceived that the lady had committed a departure 
 from the original issue, which was matter of sub- 
 stance, — to wit : marry now or not marry at all, 
 — and had closed upon a new issue, and that, 
 too, of a mere Presbyterian form, of no substance 
 at all. He therefore adroitly proposed, in the most 
 eloquent and poHte terms, to the ladies, and in 
 a manner most condescending, that on reflection he 
 cheerfully yielded in matter of form to their su- 
 perior propriety and taste, and would be married 
 in any church they might choose on the morrow 
 mornmg, so that in the afternoon they might set 
 out on their journey to his seat in ' The Grants.' 
 
 The ladies, a Httle surprised, but on the whole 
 gratified, at this easy way of shoving off a difficulty, 
 and feeling not a little proud of their triumph 
 over the Presbyterian ; the first concession being: 
 yielded to the lady argued well for her future su- 
 premacy. The definitive arrangement was settled 
 accordingly ; and on the morrow, the skillful diplo- 
 matist and gratified groom, ^\'ith his happy and 
 admiring bride, was on his way to Vermont. 
 
 This lady, now a bride, possessed one master senti- 
 ment : it was love. This taught her the most pleas- 
 ant duty of being subject to her adored husband 
 in all things. It also covered all her husband's 
 deficiencies and faults, and there was great need.
 
 A DIARY OF LONG AGO. 61 
 
 Having- no sense of comfort himself, he provided 
 none for others. 
 
 Therefore, when his lady arrived at her new 
 home, she found it to be a sort of castle built 
 of hewed logs, standing in a bleak open field, 
 recently partly cleared, stumps, logs, and other ves- 
 tiges of rude creation surrounding it ; unfinished 
 at the time and never afterwards finished. 
 
 The original design of the building was large and 
 magnificent. In the basement were mills, worked 
 by hand or horse-power, for grinding corn. On the 
 first floor was a spacious hall, with folding doors at 
 either end, through which the north winds were 
 wont to sweep at pleasure. In tliis hall, also, was 
 the staircase. 
 
 Entering this hall from the south, on your left 
 you entered the grand parlor ; next was a spare 
 sleeping room ; and lastly, on the extreme end, was 
 his honor's chosen Hbrary, composed of the best 
 authors of the day, on divinity, law, physics, belles- 
 lettres, etc., divinity and law occupying by far 
 the heavier shelves. On the rig-ht side of the hall 
 were his honor's dining hall, cook room, sleeping- 
 room, and two bedrooms as convenient appendages. 
 The two upper stories were designed as rooms 
 for a college establishment, recitation rooms, lecture 
 rooms, and dormitories for yoimg gentlemen stu- 
 dents. 
 
 By his honor's will, executed a few days before 
 his death, this whole college establishment was
 
 62 UNDER A COLONIAL ROOF-TREE. 
 
 solemnly dedicated and set apart for an institu- 
 tion of learning, in perpetuity, and endowed with 
 many ten thousand acres of his Draper and Som- 
 erset estates. Young Moses Porter Phelps, son of 
 Charles Phelps, Esq., of Old Hadley, then a stu- 
 dent in Cambridge College, was duly appointed first 
 president thereof, with power, for the time being, 
 over the whole building, domestic as well as scientific 
 and literary, — over the whole Hbrary, philosophical 
 apparatus, chemical, geometrical, and mathematical 
 instruments. Provided always, that Avhen he arrived 
 at suitable years, became duly qualified, showed 
 genius for government, had scientific and literary 
 abilities ; was deeply imbued with religion, accord- 
 ing to the doctrines of the Kirk of Scotland ; had 
 taken to liimself a sober, discreet, and exemplary 
 wife, of the same religious views and doctrines ; and 
 provided, also, that he would reside in the same 
 college building and make it his home. 
 
 From this glowing description, given in a solemn 
 matter-of-fact paper, we may judge Avhat was the 
 description of it given to his Boston bride before she 
 saw it. The gentleman certainly was making un- 
 authorized drafts upon his imagination ; or rather 
 he was describing what his house and college might 
 be, rather than what it was. 
 
 There were no chimneys, no glass windows, no re- 
 citation rooms, no dormitories, no floors. The upper 
 stories were always used for hay-lofts. It was to 
 such a house as this, w4th all its future destinies
 
 A DIARY OF LONG AGO. 63 
 
 in prospect, that the Boston lady was introduced, and 
 of which she became mistress. 
 
 One of the first visible objects, after my mother 
 and perhaps my father, that I remember to have set 
 my young admiring eyes upon, was this Boston lady, 
 whom, in rude and rustic familiarity, we used to 
 call ' Granny.' Methinks I see her now, of a fine 
 summer's afternoon or evening, dressed to see her 
 little Johnny, some four years of age, the only 
 quality she expected, unless, upon an evening of 
 uncommon leisure, when my lively-spirited mother 
 might accompany me. There she sits, clad in rich 
 changeable silks, gold watch with heavy estabhsh- 
 ment in her girdle ; a double chain of gold, con- 
 nected in front with a large jDrecious stone locket set 
 in gold, around her deHcately turned neck ; golden 
 bracelets around her wrists. 
 
 There she sits, that Boston lady of the olden 
 time. Methinks I see her now, and hear, too, that 
 soft and gentle ' ahem,' as if to prepare her voice for 
 the sweetest and tenderest welcome ; and feel, too, 
 those glowing, hearty kisses. I sit upon her knee ; 
 I hear her charming stories ; I say my prayer ; 
 I receive my cake, with her parting kiss and bless- 
 ing, and run home a happier and better boy. 
 
 This lady was left comfortably off by my grand- 
 father. For two or three years after his death 
 she kept up the family mansion, the old college 
 edifice. She kept a fine table, which she knew 
 how to set forth in excellent style, so as to show her
 
 Q4: UNDER A COLONIAL ROOF-TREE. 
 
 taste and thrift to the best advantage. She often 
 indulged in, to her, the great hixury of giving a 
 dinner, at which I had sometuues the honor of 
 being a guest. Her person, address, style of living, 
 and rich conversational powers obtained for her 
 many admirers. But she gloried in my grandfather, 
 and never tired in setting forth his worth. In this 
 duty nature, admiration, and love all combined, for 
 he possessed a noble, commanding person. 
 
 A frame six feet three inches in height, erect, 
 ample, bony, gave fuU scope to a body inclining 
 to be corpulent to favorably develop itself. Light 
 gray, lustrous eyes, finely set beneath ample, capa- 
 cious brows, gave to a high, squarely tiu'ned fore- 
 head a sense both of firmness and power. 
 
 His dress on ordinary, every-day occasions was 
 mean, badly attended to, and slovenly. But when 
 dressed for public occasions, nothing could be more 
 magnificent, fashionable, or in better taste. The 
 finest linen, frilled at wrist and bosom with the most 
 costly cambrics ; golden buckles to his stock, costly 
 gems for buttons to his wristbands ; deep blue broad- 
 cloth coat of the finest and firmest material ; buff 
 vest and smallclothes, silk stockings, with shoes or 
 boots to fit. And then the wig, — that ample, 
 full-bottomed, full-powdered wig, of the style of 
 Louis XIV., or George III. ; to which add the 
 brilliant on his finger, and the rings in his ears, the 
 whole being surmounted with the tasteful chapeau- 
 de-bras, with buttons of gold." 
 
 The diary mentions the death of the first wife
 
 A DIARY OF LONG AGO. 65 
 
 of Charles Phelps, Sen., as occurring September 
 13, 1777. 
 
 In that year there were frequent visits of the old 
 gentleman. In May, 1778, he was on his way to 
 Boston. 
 
 " June. Father came, and a woman who he is go- 
 ing to take up to Marlborough to spin and weave, 
 one widow." 
 
 "December 29. Father Phelps came here and 
 brought a wife ( she was the widow Kneeland, of 
 Boston)." 
 
 There is a letter still preserved written by Charles 
 Phelps, at the time his son Solomon, afterwards 
 a graduate of Harvard, was in college : — 
 
 " To the Reverend and Honorable Edward Hol- 
 yoke, Esqr., President of Harvard College, and the 
 ever respectable tutors of the same. 
 
 After compliments paid you upon a grateful 
 remembrance of the favor and respect you have 
 shown me, I earnestly desire the favor of permitting 
 my son at college to return home with his brother 
 before Thanksgiving, with whom I have sent a horse 
 for him to ride up, if you, gentlemen, will permit 
 him to do so ; confidently relying upon it that, 
 if I could with conveniency suggest the reasons, 
 my desire would not be denied. 
 
 I am, gentlemen, with great respect. 
 
 Your very humble and much obliged servant, at 
 command, Charles Phelps. 
 
 Hadley, Nov. 26, a. d. 1761."
 
 66 UNDER A COLONIAL KOOF-TREE. 
 
 Soon after the Revolutionary War, Charles Phelps, 
 Sen., became engaged in a hot contention concerning 
 the jurisdiction over the towns of New Marlboro' 
 and others in Cumberland County, part of what was 
 originally known as " The New Hampshire Grants." 
 This territory, having organized under the laws of 
 the State of New York, resisted the authority of the 
 newly formed State of Vermont, and remained firm 
 in its allegiance to New York. By the recommen- 
 dation of Congress, each district was to maintam 
 its own constitution and laws. Under this arrangfe- 
 meut Charles Phelps received the appomtment of 
 chief justice, and his son Timothy that of high 
 sheriff. 
 
 When disputes began to arise, and Vermont en- 
 forced her demand for taxes in the disaffected towns, 
 Mr. Phelps traveled to Philadelphia to maintain his 
 claim before Cono^ress. Its decision was that the 
 governor of New York State should direct its loyal 
 subjects in Cumberland County to resist the im- 
 positions of the State of Vermont. To those who 
 supported this ruling, the encroachments of Ver- 
 mont, in annexing portions of New Hampshire and 
 New York, seemed usurping and dangerous. New 
 York State pledged civil and military support in 
 the contest. The Cumberland County militia, loyal 
 to New York, organized and overcame the Vermont 
 constables and sheriff. At this point, however, 
 General Ethan Allen crossed the mountains with 
 his troops and quelled the disturbance.
 
 A DIARY OF LONG AGO. 67 
 
 The insurgents were tried and condemned to ban- 
 ishment. 
 
 Charles Phelps was still in Philadelphia trying- to 
 obtain redress. His property had been confiscated, 
 and history represents him at this time in distress from 
 poverty and exile, but determined to win his cause if 
 possible. To him a principle was involved which 
 required the sacrifice of every personal consideration. 
 
 His son Timothy was among those ordered to 
 leave the State. Being, however, as fully convinced 
 as his father of the justice of their cause, and be- 
 lieving that it would finally triumph, he quietly 
 returned to his home and settled down on the farm. 
 His son thus describes the attitude he assumed : — 
 
 " The scenes that were enacted in these border 
 feuds were amusing, and at this day would be 
 ludicrous ; the reason for which was, that the com- 
 batants were neighbors acting under disputed 
 authorities, neither of which felt entirely confident 
 that it would be justified in the end. The consta- 
 bles of Windham County, with their assistants, would 
 come with their warrants for taxes ; my father, as 
 Sheriff of Cumberland County, would read to them 
 the riot act, whereupon the affrighted consta- 
 bles would retire for fresh instructions. But after 
 the decree of banishment, the riot act in the mouth 
 of my father seemed to have lost its effect. An 
 occasion soon presented itself which required de- 
 cisive measures. 
 
 My father one morning, pitchfork in hand, was
 
 68 UNDER A COLONIAL ROOF-TREE. 
 
 feeding his oxen, preparatory to his day's occupation, 
 when a constable with his suite appeared, and made 
 proclamation that he distrained the oxen for taxes, 
 and was proceeding to drive them off for that pur- 
 pose. My father placed himself before the oxen 
 with his pitchfork, and ordered the constable to de- 
 sist, at his peril. 
 
 The constable not obeying, but persisting in driv- 
 ing the cattle oif, my father effectually rescued them 
 by knocking down the constable for dead with the 
 fork ; upon which the assistants fled, and my father 
 went about his business as usual ; soon, however, 
 to be disturbed and routed by another Green Moun- 
 tain army under another General Allen." 
 
 Mrs. Timothy Phelps was quite equal to her hus- 
 band in the resolution she displayed. On the 
 occasion of one of these raids of General Ira Allen 
 in search of her husband, she Avas engaged with 
 her servants at the household washing in MUl 
 River. " She had scarcely got well into the suds, 
 when she saw splashing into the ford-way more than 
 forty armed men, all mounted, with their drawn 
 swords wavmg and glittering in the sunbeams ; and 
 to her great surprise and regret, she saw this armed 
 body of enemies piloted and conducted by her old 
 friend and neighbor. Col. W. As soon as they ap- 
 proached the place where she was stationed, with 
 a spirit more undaunted than that of any hero, be- 
 cause with the spirit of a betrayed and injured 
 woman, she stepped forward and said : ' Col. W.,
 
 A DIAKY OF LONG AGO. 69 
 
 you grieve and amaze me. I had not expected 
 meanness and treachery like this in a friend like 
 you.' Saying this, and not waiting for an apology 
 which W. was attempting to stammer out, she took 
 me by the hand, and, ordering her maid to run, she 
 proceeded quick step for the house, not exactly 
 in sight, but only some quarter of a mile distant. 
 The little tow-headed almshouse boy, having in- 
 stinctively snuffed the object of this warlike move- 
 ment, had instantly and unnoticed taken himself off, 
 and under cover of a large grove of poplars, ^vith 
 almost greyhound speed, had given notice to my 
 father of the near approach of the enemy. 
 
 The armed force in the mean time had arrived, 
 and after wheeling, in great military display, two or 
 three times around the house, dismounted, forced 
 the door, and went in ; my mother, with her child in 
 her hand, following in short and quick order into 
 the house, of which she no sooner gained possession 
 than a volley of before-unheard-of eloquence, com- 
 mencing ' Cowardly miscreants,' assailed their ears. 
 Evidently they soon began to feel abashed and dis- 
 tressed. Being gentlemen, generous and gallant, 
 they seemed perplexed how to act in so novel an 
 affair. They demanded to be shown my father. 
 She denied and defied them ; telling them to go 
 to Col. W., and not come to her, a woman and a 
 wife, to aid them in their oppression, tyranny, 
 and robbery ; all this while follomng them up, 
 armed with large kitchen fire-shovel ; warning them.
 
 70 UNDER A COLONIAL ROOF-TREE. 
 
 ill the most firm though stormy and indignant 
 manner, ' to leave the house, upon the peril of hav- 
 ing their brains laid open ; mean, contemptible, 
 cowardly banditti as they were. Draw your pol- 
 troon swords upon a woman and her infants, will 
 you? brave heroes as you are. Use them if you 
 dare. A day of awful reckoning is at hand for 
 you, my worthies.' 
 
 It was distressing for me to see, not my mother 
 indeed, but those whom she was so hotly pursuing, 
 though annoyed by me all the while at her apron 
 strinofs. 
 
 At one time one might see them dodging into 
 a corner, as if to escape her blows ; at another 
 endeavoring to provoke a laugh by some affected at- 
 tempt at wit. All would not do. They were men 
 who had learned humanity in a better school than 
 that in which they found themselves engaged, 
 and had not been tauo-ht to war on defenseless 
 woman, or ruthlessly break the doors of her private 
 chambers. 
 
 After laughing themselves, and at length my 
 mother also, into a fit of good feeling, they took her 
 naked word that my father was not in the house, 
 which was true ; and after suitable apologies, and 
 kind wishes for the return of mutual friendship 
 and confidences, ^vith profound courtesy and polite- 
 ness they departed. 
 
 But it was no part of my father's character to 
 shun the face of a fellow-mortal, and the cavalcade
 
 A DIARY OF LONG AGO. 71 
 
 was scarcely out of sight before lie reappeared in 
 the midst of his family. But he was allowed to 
 remain only a few days. A deputy sheriff was sent 
 at the head of some eight or ten assistants, and, 
 suddenly entering our house early in the morn- 
 ing, seized and imprisoned my father. The direct 
 route to the jail lay through the town of Brattle- 
 borough. While the sheriff was passing with his 
 prisoner, a large collection of Yorkers, assembled 
 for raising a building in that town, sprang from the 
 frame, handspikes in hand, rescued my father, 
 who was then- sheriff, and sent the Vermont sheriff 
 with his posse home, to try his luck again. 
 
 My father thereupon was immediately provided 
 with a horse and all necessary accommodations, 
 together with a strong guard, to conduct him be- 
 yond the line of Vermont into Massachusetts, which 
 done he pursued his way to the residence of Charles 
 Phelps, his brother, in Hadley. 
 
 An increased force immediately set about a pur- 
 suit and recapture ; came in the dead of night, pell- 
 mell, upon my uncle's residence, and thundered at 
 his doors. My uncle, springing from his bed and 
 calHng for his servants and his arms, rushed to the 
 door. The sheriff and his men were already in. A 
 struggle ensued. My uncle was overpowered and 
 floored, and they were proceeding to bind him, when 
 Mrs. Phelps, my uncle's wife, claimed him for her 
 husband. By this time my father appeared, and was 
 secured and hurried off towards Vermont. No time
 
 72 UNDER A COLONIAL ROOF-TREE. 
 
 was lost on the other side. My uncle flew to the 
 High Sheriff of Hampshire County (his wife's cou- 
 sin, Col. Porter) with a hue and cry. 
 
 The posse was forthwith rallied, together with the 
 local militia, which happened at that time to be com- 
 manded by my uncle. 
 
 All being well-mounted, and armed to the teeth, 
 a hot pursuit commenced. The Vermonters were 
 overtaken at Bloody Brook, in Deerfield, at about 
 eight o'clock in the morning, where they had dis- 
 mounted to refresh horses and men. No time was 
 given to rally, but sword in hand the Hampshire 
 County boys rushed in uj^on them while at break- 
 fast, and captured every man. 
 
 They were all taken back and secured in North- 
 ampton jail, the common recej^tacle at that time for 
 all disorderly birds from Vermont." 
 
 Mrs. Charles Phelps thus describes the occur- 
 rence : — 
 
 " January 19, 1784, Monday. Five men came to 
 take Brother Timothy, they abused my Husband 
 and took Tim. Went off — we had a most dreadful 
 fright but Blessed be God no lives lost — my Hus- 
 band went to Col. Porter and a number of men 
 pursued 'em, brought 'em back. Tuesday had the 
 court at Northampton. Brother went on to New 
 York." 
 
 While these stirring events were occurring under 
 the family roof -tree, the elder Charles continued in 
 Philadelphia, and published there a pamphlet entitled
 
 A DIARY OF LONG AGO. 73 
 
 " Vermonters Unmasked," in which he argued con- 
 chisively in favor of the New York party. " He 
 did not fail to present to all the States the danger 
 they were in, if the audacious precedent attempted to 
 be established by Vermont of dismembering, as they 
 had lately done, New Hampshire and New York, 
 and annexing to their own already usurped dominion 
 so large territories of independent States, should be 
 allowed." 
 
 In response to these representations Congress 
 passed resolutions restoring all the confiscated prop- 
 erty of the insurgents, and rescinding their orders 
 of banishment. 
 
 This action was, however, defied and ignored by 
 the State of Vermont. Timothy Phelps, in full con- 
 fidence of his credentials, clothed w4th his official 
 dress and emblazoned with the insigna of au- 
 thority, boldly attempted to read the resolutions of 
 Congress in the presence of the Supreme Court of 
 Vermont. The house was thrown into confusion 
 by the aggressive and determined attitude of the 
 New York sheriff. A scene of tumult ensued, and 
 Phelps was arrested and imprisoned as a traitor and 
 insurgent, with others of his party. 
 
 After a winter's suffering in the privation of a 
 common jail, there now seemed no further course 
 open than submission. Yielding to the entreaties 
 of his wife, he gave his allegiance to the authorities 
 of Vermont. This concession ©"ained for him at 
 once the honorable treatment and attentions of his
 
 74 UNDER A COLONIAL ROOF-TREE. 
 
 opponents, who could not fail to admire the reso- 
 lution he had displayed. 
 
 His father, Charles Phelps, was steadfast to the 
 last. 
 
 "Repudiating all advice, refusing all assistance, 
 disdaining to petition those whose power he resisted 
 and defied, he remained a prisoner of state, in close 
 confinement, long after every reasonable mind had 
 become convinced that Vermont had cleared the 
 way for a triumphal entry into the Federal Union. 
 
 A political revolution, which in no case ever goes 
 back, in this case was not likely to be impeded in 
 the sUghtest degree by any individual suffering 
 it might occasion ; but would roll on, Avith increased 
 momentum and power, to its final consummation, 
 leaving those who had been overthrown, by en- 
 deavoring to stop the movement, to recover them- 
 selves the best way they could. 
 
 This state of things had become apparent to every 
 one but him. He took no measures, nor would 
 he consent that any should be taken, for his de- 
 liverance. For this he was ultimately indebted to 
 measures taken by his son, Charles Phelps, Jr., Esq., 
 of Massachusetts, without the knowledge and con- 
 sent of his father. This gentleman, by a petition to 
 the Governor and Council of Vermont, obtained for 
 him a free and unqualified pardon, with an order for 
 the restitution of sucli of his estates as then re- 
 mained in the government to restore. When his 
 prison doors were opened to him, he showed surprise
 
 A DIARY OF LONG AGO. 75 
 
 and chagrin rather than joy and satisfaction ; and 
 that no fnture advantage shoukl be taken of him 
 even by inference that he had anywise subjected 
 himself to the authority he opposed, before leaving 
 the prison he gave public notice, ' That he recog- 
 nized no power in Vermont even to release him ; and 
 that he left not by legal authority, but from want of 
 physical power in his enemies to detain him longer.' 
 
 With this he returned to his family, and the re- 
 mainder of his life was spent in preparing docu- 
 ments, facts, and arguments to induce Congress to 
 make good their resolutions of the 5th of December, 
 1782. He left large masses of well-labored papers 
 prepared to this end. 
 
 In his will, executed in 1789, he styles himself 
 Charles Phelps of New Marlborough, in the County 
 of Cumberland, in the State of New York. All he 
 says about Vermont is, ^ That its people had got his 
 lands and other estate, and thereby impoverished 
 him.' " 
 
 His experience of personal distress, forfeiture of 
 fortune, and disappointment in a hopeless cause 
 seems never to have daunted this determined char- 
 acter. Notliing availed to him in comparison with 
 the justice of his claim. The contention over the 
 New Hampshire Grants, with the excited feeling 
 and local divisions which it caused, goes to show out 
 of what discordant elements the peace of the nation 
 was effected under the American Constitution. It 
 is fortunate for our country that its founders had
 
 76 UNDER A COLONIAL ROOF-TREE. 
 
 neither the hot blood nor the dogged temper of 
 Charles Phelps, but were men endowed with wisdom, 
 moderation, and breadth of view. At the same time 
 the descendants of a patriot, who sacrificed every- 
 thing for a principle, in which his only personal con- 
 cern was loss rather than gain, will not disown their 
 birthright, or fail in respect for his character. 
 
 The town of New Marlboroujih still slumbers 
 among the hills, remote as of old from share in the' 
 great currents of outside progress. The great Uni- 
 versity has crumbled into dust. Children and grand- 
 children who inherited the remains of the large 
 estate have gone out into the world to bear their 
 part in the stirring life of our new civilization. 
 Strangers now till the rocky pastures which sur- 
 round the family burying place. The retreat of 
 habitation, so deplored in our solitary New Eng- 
 land towns, has left this little " God's Acre " far 
 away from the tread of man. The occasional pil- 
 gTim, moved to offer a tribute to the rugged char- 
 acter of a forefather, searches with difficulty for the 
 inclosure. He finds it abandoned to the wild and 
 tangled verdure which is the only luxuriance of the 
 granite hills. The old man Hes in the stillness and 
 the clear atmosphere of the uplands amid whose in- 
 spirations his soul gained its unwavering adherence 
 to truth and riofht. 
 
 In reference to the afore-mentioned events the 
 diary says : — 
 
 " 1782, September 8. Father Phelps came here,
 
 A DIARY OF LONG AGO. 77 
 
 there has been great commotion about a new state, 
 got to bloodshed but none killed yet as we know of. 
 
 most mighty God, all are in thine hands as clay in 
 the hand of the potter, glorify thy name if it may be 
 command peace, be better than our fears but surely 
 Ave will endeavor to honor God in all situations in 
 Life." 
 
 " October 10. Brother Timothy came here in 
 trouble there about the state." 
 
 " December 24. Brother Timothy came here 
 again fled from home." 
 
 "February 25, 1784. My husband set out for 
 Bennington to get Father out of jail. Saturday 
 eve. got home had success in his business for which 
 
 1 return thanks to God." 
 
 "October 21. My husband set out for Vermont 
 to do some business for Father." 
 
 The 19th of April, 1781, has always been remem- 
 bered in New England as a day of uncommon in- 
 clemency for that date. In the diary we find "a 
 great storm of hail and snow." 
 
 The following year came a sad affl.iction in the 
 loss of Mrs. Phelps's bridesmaid and cousin. 
 
 "1782, July 1. Just at dark Sam. Porter came 
 here and brought the melancholy news of Mrs. Ed- 
 wards' death said she was drowned watering her 
 Horse went in too far, my dear friend the compan- 
 ion of my childhood and youth." The next year she 
 says : " June 29, Mrs. Edwards two daughters Polly 
 10, Jerusha 8. how dear they are to me for 
 their mother's sake ! "
 
 78 UNDER A COLONIAL ROOF-TREE. 
 
 The disturbed condition of the country after the 
 Revolutionary War, and the consequent financial 
 embarrassment, led to the popidar uprising- known 
 as " Shays' Rebellion." Such serious discord was 
 threatened that Washington wrote Lincoln in Massa- 
 chusetts, " Are yoiu' people getting mad ? Are we 
 to have the goodly fabric, that eight years were 
 spent in raising, pulled down over our heads ? " 
 The principal causes of discontent were, the univer- 
 sal indebtedness, and the scarcity of money. Efforts 
 of creditors to collect what was due them were re- 
 sisted. Among the tui-bulent and unprincipled of 
 the community, the cry was, " Down ^\dth the courts 
 of law, prevent the judges from actmg, and hang the 
 lawyers." 
 
 A convention met at Hatfield, August 22, 1786, 
 and made out a list of grievances. Fifteen hundred 
 armed men assembled at Northampton the same 
 month, to prevent the session of the Court of Com- 
 mon Pleas. Daniel Shays, a captain in the Revolu- 
 tionary War, of doubtful reputation, headed the in- 
 surgents in Hampshu'e County. At Sjiringfield a 
 large body collected to prevent the meeting of the 
 Supreme Court. 
 
 The difficulties threatened were so grave that the 
 state miUtia was ordered out, and placed under the 
 command of General Lincoln. On the 20th of Janu- 
 ary the troops marched to Worcester to jjrotect the 
 courts there. An attempt was now made on the 
 part of the insurgents to gain possession of the
 
 A DIARY OF LONG AGO. 79 
 
 United States Arsenal at Springfield. They were 
 dispersed by General Shephard with the loss o£ 
 several of their men. 
 
 Shays retreated to Amherst, whither he was fol- 
 lowed by General Lincoln on the 29th, upon Avhose 
 arrival he took refuge on the Pelham Hills while the 
 militia were quartered at Hadley and Hatfield. On 
 the 30th General Lincoln sent a letter to Shays ad- 
 vising him to surrender, giving a promise that the 
 privates, if they at once laid down their arms, should 
 be recommended for mercy. Shays asked time to 
 petition the General Court, and many letters were 
 sent to General Lincoln begging him to suspend 
 hostihties until a new Legislature should be chosen. 
 He was, however, resolute in demanding, first of all, 
 the disbanding of the troops. Failing this, he pre- 
 pared his forces for an attack on the party at Pel- 
 ham. The insurgents started at once on a retreat 
 across the hills to Petersham. Lincoln followed 
 by a hurried night's march. It was midwinter; 
 a north wind arose, the roads were filled with 
 snow. Through large districts no shelter could 
 be obtained, and the whole distance, thirty miles, 
 was traversed between eight o'clock in the evening 
 and nine the next morning. Taken as it was by 
 men unaccustomed to the field, and in the inclemency 
 of the severest month in the year, it was long cele- 
 brated among the annals of New England adven- 
 ture. This rapid movement proved successful. 
 Shays' s men had made the journey earher, before
 
 80 UNDER A COLONIAL ROOF-TREE. 
 
 the clianoe in the weather, which occuiied after mid- 
 night. They were resting, and sleeping off their 
 exertions, when the mihtia surprised them. One 
 hundred and fifty were captured, and thus the cam- 
 paign ended without a drop of blood shed among 
 the soldiers of the Commonwealth, who had crossed 
 a wide section of the State, and routed two bodies 
 of armed men. 
 
 After some further disturbances in Berkshire 
 County, and the neighboring States where the dis- 
 affected had taken refuge, quiet was restored, and 
 after April no alarms occurred. 
 
 Such riot and threatening of war near at home 
 were naturally a cause of anxiety at Forty Acres. 
 The diary says: "1786, September 25. Monday 
 my Husband set out for Springfield ; publick aff'aii-s 
 seem to be in a confused situation many are gone to 
 prevent the sitting of the Court and many are gone 
 to uphold the Court. Lord bring order out of 
 disorder. Thou canst effect it. We trust in all- 
 mighty power." 
 
 " Thursday Mr. Phelps returned in safety, no 
 Hves lost." 
 
 " December 15, Thursday Thanksgi\'ing day. Mr. 
 Hopkins preached no sermon. Col. Porter read an 
 address from the General Court to all the people in 
 this Commonwealth, there has been a great deal of 
 Disturbance of late among the people, how it will 
 terminate God only knows. I desire to make it my 
 earnest prayer to be fitted for events and prepared
 
 A DIARY OF LONG AGO. 81 
 
 for Duty and I am not able to Dictate. I know not 
 what is right and best, I think I can chearf ul leave 
 it in the hands of an infinite wisdom to govern pray- 
 ing for peace and good order and that good may 
 come out of evil in God's own time and manner." 
 
 " 1787, January 18. Thursday morning Hus- 
 band set out with sleigh to help the men to Spring- 
 field which are raised in this town for the support 
 of government. David Johnson our Boy is gone 
 and a great many others, and it looks as Dark as 
 Night, a very great Army is coming from toward 
 Boston, and some are collecting on the other side 
 — it appears as if nothing but the immediate inter- 
 position of providence could prevent Blood — and 
 there I think I can say I desire to leave it. The 
 counsel of the Lord that shall stand. And my 
 Husband got home that Eve, but he proposes to 
 go soon — may I still say Amen." 
 
 " January 21. Mr. Hopkins Spoke very well 
 upon the present Dark Day. 
 
 Monday morning Mr. Phelps set out for Spring- 
 field. 
 
 Tuesday eve — he came back. 
 
 Wednesday. Killed two oxen, set out with the 
 meat could not get to Springfield, came back. 
 
 Thursday set out again, got back. The mob 
 attempted to march into Springfield, the govern- 
 ment fired the cannon killed four. 
 
 Friday morning one Lock (that has lived here 
 ever since last April) set out with Mr. Phelps for 
 Springfield. I hear they got in safe.
 
 82 UNDER A COLONIAL ROOF-TREE. 
 
 January 28. Mr. Hopkins preached Prov. 19 21. 
 
 This lias been a confused day. The Mob in a 
 large body at Northampton another party at Am- 
 herst. Just as the meeting was done, the North- 
 ampton Body came into the lower end of Hadley 
 street marched through to Amherst. What will 
 be the event none can tell. We hope in God's 
 mercy. Just at dusk my Husband got home. 
 
 Monday. Gen. Lincoln came into Hadley with 
 about three thousand men. 
 
 Tuesday. Mr. Phelps carried the children into 
 town to see 'em." 
 
 " Saturday evening David Johnson and Joseph 
 Lock came home from the Army." 
 
 "February 4:th, Sunday a confused time the 
 Troops marched last Eve, the stores and baggage 
 this day. Monday Mr. Phelps set out with some 
 loadings belonging to the Army, went to Peters- 
 ham. Tuesday home." 
 
 "February 21st. Went to Hatfield to the fu- 
 neral of one Walker killed by the insurgents ; — 
 he was buried with the Honours of War." 
 
 " March 2d. Dr. Porter, two gentlemen of the 
 army." 
 
 "March 22d. Tuesday. Fast-day called; but 
 not one word of fast in the Proclamation only Hu- 
 miliation and Prayer. I view it and keep it as 
 fast." 
 
 "March 24th. Mr. Phelps set out for Boston 
 to do Business for a great number of the inhabit-
 
 A DIARY OF LONG AGO. 83 
 
 ants of this Town respecting pay for quartering the 
 soldiers here." 
 
 The visit of General Lincoln to Hadley, and its 
 mention in the diary, are of moment to those of 
 his descendants now living under the old roof-tree. 
 
 A major-general in the war of Revolution, the 
 intimate friend and trusted adviser of the great 
 Washington, a statesman whose integrity was un- 
 impeachable and whose morals were unsullied, he 
 has been honored and revered by his own and suc- 
 ceeding generations. He was appointed the first 
 minister of war, an office involving, at that time, 
 much that was both delicate and difficult, but which 
 he faithfully administered. In his other positions 
 also, under government, he uniformly sought the 
 highest good of the nation, making it paramount to 
 any private interest or ambition. 
 
 In the period of tranquillity which followed the 
 Revolutionary war, and its subsequent disturbances, 
 Charles Phelps found ample field for action in the 
 affairs of the town and the Commonwealth. He 
 was for many years a Representative at the General 
 Court, a selectman, a justice of the peace. As com- 
 missioner of highways he traveled all over the 
 countryside, laying out roads and superintending 
 the construction of bridges. In the early days of 
 the war he had sent supplies to Cambridge for the 
 army, and frequently accompanied these expeditions. 
 Even in middle age, a day's journey of sixty miles 
 in the saddle was no fatigue to him.
 
 84 UNDER A COLONIAL ROOF-TREE. 
 
 We learn from the diary that his wife often 
 accompanied him to Boston, when they traveled in 
 their own chaise. 
 
 "February 15, 1787. Went to Cambridge. 
 Drank tea at Mr. Gannet's." 
 
 It may have been mth some idea of sendmg their 
 son to Dartmouth that in 1788 they took a trip 
 to Hanover. The visit was much enjoyed. She 
 writes that they took tea at one of the professors' 
 houses, were received with much attention, and 
 " saw the curiosities." 
 
 Young Moses, who afterwards took the name of 
 Charles for his father and paternal grandfather, was 
 entered at Harvard, always at that time spoken of 
 as Cambridge College. After graduating he studied 
 law with Chief Justice Parsons, and married into 
 his family. Visits from his parents at his Boston 
 home were the occasion of a round of tea-drinkings 
 among the new relatives in Charles, Summer, and 
 Tremont streets. 
 
 Two or three times Mrs. Phelps mentions that 
 they " went to the Play." 
 
 Public affairs did not interfere with the Squire's 
 care of his own estate. He had doubled the acre- 
 age, and as early as 1770 the property was rated 
 highest on the list in Hadley, with one exception. 
 
 Various industries were carried on in connection 
 with the farm. At the falls near by was a grist- 
 mill ; a tannery stood at the foot of Pleasant Hill ; 
 there was a blacksmith's shop, with buildings for 
 stabling, storage, etc.
 
 A DIARY OF LONG AGO. 85 
 
 In the river were extensive fisheries of salmon and 
 shad. 
 
 1783, May 17th. Mrs. Phelps says : " Rode up 
 to the fish place to see our fish." 
 
 It is said that at one time salmon were so plenty 
 that the shad were of no account, and were thrown 
 back into the water. It was even considered disre- 
 putable to eat them, as indicating poverty. Mr. 
 Judd has an anecdote of a family who, when they 
 were surprised at dinner by some visitor, hid the 
 shad under the table. 
 
 There is another story, that Colonel Porter and 
 his wife, being secretly fond of the dish, gave their 
 negro man private instructions to put a shad under 
 his coat and bring it away when no one was looking. 
 
 When shad rose in value they brought a penny 
 apiece. The fishing place at Forty Acres was one 
 of the principal on the river, and was the scene of 
 much youthful gayety and life. 
 
 " As a means of transportation of goods, farm 
 products, and lumber, the river was of much impor- 
 tance. In the early part of the season, almost every 
 day would witness the floating down of one or more 
 of those sleepy, easy-going structures called rafts, 
 the only care necessary being to keep in deep water 
 and go with the current. 
 
 How I did envy the delicious leisure of those 
 lumbermen ! They had indeed a few boards for 
 oars, but they were of very little use, judging from 
 appearances, as they glided past near us poor fellows
 
 86 UNDER A COLONIAL ROOF-TREE. 
 
 sweatiiiar in the cornfields. But the ' fall-boats,' as 
 they were called, were pretentious aftairs. They 
 were long and flat-bottomed, and carried a mast 
 with two sails. If not pictui'esque, they gave life to 
 the river, and we missed them when they were 
 superseded by the railroad car. 
 
 Since recalling the incidents of early life con- 
 nected Avith Mt. Warner, and comparing them with 
 others associated with the Connecticut River, I have 
 been impressed with the difference between them as 
 factors in my life experience. 
 
 If there was an air of reticence and mystery 
 about those wooded solitudes ; if the life lived there 
 was grave, uniform, and quiet, — the very reverse 
 of this was true of the river. In the mnter, indeed, 
 it was cold and silent, not half as companionable as 
 the forest, but in the summer season all its life was 
 on the surface. It was lovely, sociable, or saucy, 
 foaming with rage or rippling with laughter, as the 
 wind and skies played with its caj^rices. 
 
 I think my earliest recollections connected with 
 the river were in passing over the old arched bridge 
 about one fourth of a mile below the house. It was 
 not then considered safe to drive over it faster than 
 a walk, but it was a beautiful object in the land- 
 scape, with its graceful arches reaching from pier to 
 pier, the flooring following the course of the arches. 
 And when at length they began to fall away one by 
 one at intervals, its picturesque effects were rather 
 heightened than otherwise.
 
 A DIARY OF LONG AGO. 87 
 
 It was said that when the bridge was finished, 
 Dr. Lyman, of Hatfield, preached on the occasion, 
 and delivered himself of the opinion that, in view of 
 such improvement, the millennium could not be far 
 in the future. 
 
 Speaking of the bridge reminds me of the sport 
 of ^ going in swimming,' as we used to call bathing. 
 
 The boys would join forces, and, since the river 
 flats back of the house were not favorable for diving, 
 we used to resort to the bridge. By swimming over 
 to the first pier, a good divmg-place could be found, 
 and thither they would go hke a flock of ducks, for 
 it was deep water all the way over. 
 
 Before I had learned to swim, my brother used 
 sometimes to want to carry me on his back over to 
 the pier. I used to require the most solemn assur- 
 ance he would not play me false, and he never did. 
 So, persuading me to put my arms about his neck, 
 he would launch out and carry me over to the pier. 
 Likely enough he would tease me awhile with the 
 fear I should be left there, but he never had a 
 thouo-ht of that. 
 
 O simple, unhesitating, buoyant faith of child- 
 hood ! How often have I since prayed that when 
 called to make the passage from this to the world 
 beyond, I may have a like trust in our Divine Elder 
 Brother, that He would carry me safely over." 
 
 A description of the Forty Acres Farm, in its 
 period of greatest prosperity, has often been referred 
 to in local histories and biographies. It is to be
 
 88 UNDER A COLONIAL ROOF-TREE. 
 
 found amons: the writinos of Dr. Timothv Dwio-ht, 
 a orrandsoii of Jonathan Edwards, who was born in 
 Northampton. It is related that three Timothys in 
 direct succession — Colonel Timothy, Major Timo- 
 thy, and President Timothy — at one thne all raked 
 hay together in the same meadow. 
 
 Of Colonel Timothy, the story goes that he once 
 threw a stone not only across the Connecticut at 
 Northampton, at a point where it was forty rods 
 from shore to shore, but thirty rods beyond, in all 
 1,165 feet. 
 
 Of President Dwight's early years it is told that 
 he learned the alphabet at a single lesson, read the 
 Bible fluently at four, and commenced the study of 
 Latin at six. He entered Yale College in 1765, 
 when he had just completed his thirteenth year. 
 He became a tutor at the a^e of nineteen, was later 
 admitted to the ministry, and served as a chaplain 
 in the Revolutionary war. After some years spent 
 in teaching, during which he supported his mother 
 and brothers and sisters, he became pastor of a 
 Connecticut parish, and subsequently the successor 
 of Dr. Stiles as president of Yale. His biographer 
 says of him : — 
 
 " A nobler example of a well-balanced mind is 
 not to be found, perhaps, than Washington. Dr. 
 Dwiglit, with far more of the imaginative and bril- 
 liant than belonged to the Father of his Country, 
 possessed the same well-proportioned intellectual 
 character for which he was distinguished." His
 
 A DIARY OF LONG AGO. 89 
 
 influence over his pupils, of whom a large number 
 became leading men, was very marked. Of his 
 breadth of view in religious matters, unusual com- 
 pared with many ministers at that time, the follow- 
 ing anecdote is told : — 
 
 " A young clergyman, since one of the most dis- 
 tinguished in New England, called upon him ; and 
 to an inquii'y which the doctor made concerning the 
 state of reHgion in his neighborhood he replied, as 
 an evidence of its being in a flourishing state, that 
 the distinguishing doctrines of the gospel were 
 faithfully preached. ' That is well,' replied the doc- 
 tor, ' but are the duties of the gospel preached 
 also?'" 
 
 Among his many works, one of those most inter- 
 esting at the present day is the book of " Travels." 
 This collection of letters contains descriptions of his 
 journeys through New England and New York 
 State at the close of the last century and the be- 
 ginning of the present. It abounds in carefuUy 
 noted observations on the country he visited, inter- 
 spersed mth items of biography and history ; and 
 reflections, which are most valuable as indicating the 
 mind and temper of the writer. His descriptions are 
 full and accurate. 
 
 In portraying the beautiful view from Mt. Hol- 
 yoke, familiar to travelers, he says : — 
 
 " Meadows are here seen, containing from five to 
 five hundred acres, interspersed with beautiful and 
 lofty forest trees, rising everywhere at little dis-
 
 90 UNDER A COLONIAL ROOF-TREE. 
 
 tances, and at times with orchards of considerable 
 extent, and covered with exquisite verdure. Here 
 spread, also, vast expanses of arable ground, in which 
 the different lots exactly resemble garden-beds, dis- 
 tinguishable from each other only by different kinds 
 of vegetation, and exhibiting all its varied hues, 
 from the dark green of the maize to the brilliant 
 gold of the barley. 
 
 One range of these lots is separated from an- 
 other by a straight road, running Hke an alley, from 
 one to two miles in length, with here and there a 
 brook or mill-stream winding through the whole. 
 
 A perfect neatness and brilliancy is everywhere 
 diffused ; without a neglected spot to tarnish the 
 lustre, or excite a wish in the mind for a higher fin- 
 ish. All these objects united present a collection of 
 beauties to which I know no parallel. 
 
 When the eye traces this majestic stream, mean- 
 dermg with a singular course through these delight- 
 ful fields, wandering in one place five miles to gain 
 seventy yards, inclosing, almost immediately beneath, 
 an island of twenty acres, exquisite in its form and 
 verdure, and adorned on the northern end with a 
 beautiful grove, forcing its way between these moun- 
 tains, exhibiting itself like a vast canal six or eight 
 miles below them, and occasionally reappearing at 
 greater and greater distances in its passage to the 
 ocean ; when it marks the sprightly towns which 
 rise upon its banks, and the numerous churches 
 which gem the whole landscape in its neighborhood ;
 
 A DIARY OF LONG AGO. 91 
 
 when it explores the lofty forests wildly contrasted 
 with the rich scene of cultivation which it has just 
 examined, and presenting all the varieties of wood- 
 land vegetation ; when it ascends higher, and marks 
 the perpetually varying and undulating arches of 
 the hills, the points and crowns of the nearer and 
 detached mountains, and the long-continued ranges 
 of the more distant ones, particularly of the Green 
 Mountains, receding northward beyond the reach of 
 the eye ; when, last of all, it fastens upon the Mo- 
 nadnock in the northeast, and in the northwest upon 
 Saddle Mountain, ascending each at the distance of 
 fifty miles, in dim and misty grandeur, far above all 
 other objects in view, — it will be difficult not to 
 say that, with these exquisite varieties of beauty and 
 gTandeur, the relish for the landscape is filled, 
 neither a wish for higher perfection, nor an idea 
 what it is, remaining in the mind. 
 
 Among the interesting objects in this neighbor- 
 hood, the farm of Charles Phelps, Esq., about two 
 miles north of this town, deserves the notice of a 
 traveler. This estate lies on the eastern bank of 
 the Connecticut River, and contains about six hun- 
 dred acres, of which about one hundred and fifty 
 are intervale, annually manured by the slime of the 
 river. 
 
 The rest consists partly of a rich plain, and partly 
 of the sides and summits of Mt. Warner, a beauti- 
 ful hill in the neighborhood. The intervale is 
 universally meadow, and of the best quality. The
 
 92 UNDER A COLONIAL ROOF-TREE. 
 
 reniJiiiider of the farm is remarkably well-fitted for 
 every kind of produce suited to the cHmate, abounds 
 in pasture, and yields an inexhaustible supply of 
 timber and fuel. It is also furnished with every 
 other convenience. 
 
 On one border are excellent mills ; on another a 
 river, furnishing a cheap transportation to market. 
 It is intersected by two great roads, leading to 
 Boston and to Hartford. A bridge crosses Con- 
 necticut River one fourth of a mile below the house. 
 Within two miles is the church in Hadley. The 
 country around it is highly improved, and the in- 
 habitants inferior to those of few places of the same 
 extent in their habits and character. 
 
 The scenery, both near and distant, is eminently 
 delightful, and within very convenient distance all 
 the pleasures of refined and intelligent society may 
 ,^e easily enjoyed. In a word this estate is the most 
 desirable possession of the same kind and extent, 
 T^dthin my knowledge." 
 
 President Dwiglit described Hadley and its sur- 
 roundings with the familiarity of many years' ac- 
 quaintance. A close relation, through the Edwards 
 family, with Lawyer Porter's household, made him 
 a frequent visitor. He was accustomed to preach 
 for Mr. Hopkins, also a connection. Of one of 
 these occasions we find that the family chronicle 
 makes particular mention : — 
 
 "May 13, 1798. Mr. Dwight, Pres. of New 
 Haven College, Lawyer Porter and wife (and others) 
 all drank tea here."
 
 A DIARY OF LONG AGO. 93 
 
 By the dates we may conjecture that it was on 
 this same ^asit to the old mansion that President 
 Dwight became impressed with the beauty, virtue, 
 and high character of the daughter of the house. 
 Ehzabeth Phelps was at this time nineteen years 
 of age. There is a portrait which represents her 
 dressed in a short-waisted white gown, her brown 
 hair in a mass of curls on the top of her head ; with 
 dark eyes, a long upper lip, a firm chin. 
 
 The rude hand of the country artist failed to give 
 that expression to the countenance which would 
 endow it with soul and character, but the cast of 
 feature marks unmistakably decision, -will, refine- 
 ment. There are also such striking points of re- 
 semblance to her descendants of the j^i'esent day 
 that one cannot doubt that the picture in its outHnes 
 was a faithful likeness. 
 
 From knowledge of her character as it develoj^ed 
 in later years, one may read penetration in the eye, 
 severity in the mouth, intellect in the brow. If 
 there is latent melancholy in the expression, the 
 light in the eyes betrays quick humor ; the lines in 
 the face indicate sympathy, aspiration, affection. 
 
 With the advantages of a trained mind, a culti- 
 vated taste, natural dignity, and the sprightliness of 
 youth, it is no wonder that she made an impression 
 upon the fancy even of an elderly college dominie. 
 His estimate of her character, as it was afterwards 
 expressed, is the more flattering because, in his 
 visits to the metropolis, he finds occasion for ex-
 
 94: UNDER A COLONIAL ROOF-TREE. 
 
 trerae censure on the prevailing manners and con- 
 versation of the young- people he met. 
 
 Returning, however, to New Haven, he not only 
 recalled the attractions of Miss Phelps, but depicted 
 them in fflowino- terms to one of his favorite tutors. 
 Urging upon him the prudence of selecting a suit- 
 able helpmeet, he advised him to visit Hadley and 
 seek an introduction to the Squire's daughter. For 
 charm of person and of character he esteemed her 
 without a rival. 
 
 That his advice should have been so favorably 
 received, we know not wdiether to attribute to the 
 respect Avhich the young clergyman entertamed for 
 the opinion of his honored president, or to the effect 
 made upon him by the picture drawn. 
 
 He was at that very time entertaining the offer 
 of a parish in one of the j^rosperous Connecticut 
 towns. Such a home needed a wife to complete its 
 attractions. With the acceptance of the settlement, 
 the young minister turned his attention to the 
 selection of a companion. Six months after the tea- 
 drinking, at which President Dwight was a guest, 
 comes the folloA\4ng enti-y : — 
 
 " January 13, 1799. Mr. Huntington Pastor of 
 Litchfield preached," and a day or two after, " Mr. 
 Huntington drank tea here." 
 
 In the next May, there was another visit from 
 President Dwight, perhaps to offer congratulations 
 on the becoming manner in which his counsel was 
 received. It is said, however, that the young lady,
 
 A DIARY OF LONG AGO. 95 
 
 with strict Puritan reserve, would never admit that 
 there was an engagement. In spite of that, the 
 parsonage at Litchfield was made ready, and the 
 wedding took place New Year's Day, 1801, in the 
 Long Room of the old house, where a party of rela- 
 tives and friends were assembled. The journey to 
 the new home was made through the snow in a 
 sleigh. Teams were sent on before, containing the 
 bride's belongings and the substantial outfit which 
 her father provided for housekeeping. 
 
 After this, the diary records frequent expeditions 
 to Litchfield. This town was the residence of many 
 families of distinction, and noted for its refined and 
 hearty hospitality. Tea-drinkings and other enter- 
 tainments occurred with frequency in honor of 
 guests from abroad. Names well known to this 
 day in Connecticut are often found in the diary on 
 the occasion of Mrs. Phelps's long visits at the par- 
 sonage. 
 
 From this time her private diary is supplemented 
 by letters, in good preservation, written by the affec- 
 tionate and anxious mother to her dauo^hter. The 
 anticipation of visits to Litchfield was always joy- 
 ful. The journey from Hadley was once performed 
 by carriage in a single day, but usually Mr. and 
 Mrs. Phelps stayed over night with friends or rela- 
 tives at Westfield or Hartford. In a season when 
 the roads were very bad, it was taken partly on a 
 pilhon. 
 
 Returning home after the first visit to the young 
 couple the month after the wedding : —
 
 96 UNDER A COLONIAL KOOF-TREE. 
 
 "February 7, 1801. Got home about twelve, 
 found all things very clever (but no Betsey) for 
 which I hope we are very thankful." 
 
 Mrs. Phelps's home was now in many respects 
 altered. Her mother had died two years before ; 
 her only son and an adopted daughter Thankful 
 were both married. Her vigor of character, how- 
 ever, and her cheerful disposition, grew only more 
 marked as old age came on and changes occurred. 
 At the age of fifty-nine she writes after an ill- 
 ness : — 
 
 " Took physic and consulted the family physician 
 all to no purjjose ; suspected the disorder to be 
 nervous ; tact'd about, put on great resolution, and 
 made mince pies, and really found myself no worse 
 than days before." 
 
 To her husband, whose mood was reserved and 
 inclined to melancholy, she writes : — 
 
 " Your last seems a little low-spirited, the others 
 do very well. I could feel in the dumps too, if I 
 dare, but that ^vill never do." 
 
 To her daughter : " Betsey, put on patience — 
 let it have its perfect work ; if you get extremely 
 worn out perhaps I had better spel you awhile." 
 
 " Put on courage " was her favorite saying, and 
 might have been her life motto. With advancing 
 years she relaxed nothing of her native energy. 
 When over sixty she rode to the top of Mt. Hol- 
 yoke on horseback under the guidance of her son. 
 She speaks of " the care of this great house and
 
 A DIARY OF LONG AGO. 97 
 
 farm," and of rising with the dawn to superintend 
 the butter-making in hot weather, of setting " forty 
 dozen candles to dip," of making sausages and 
 cheese. 
 
 In one absence, her careful mind sends the fol- 
 lowing charges to her husband : — 
 
 " There are two pies on the lower shelf in the old 
 closet which you had better eat — and the key of 
 the S. W. chamber is in my stocking drawer, at the 
 S. W. corner, if you should have smart folks to 
 lodge you might want it." 
 
 Visits from relatives and friends still occur with 
 frequency. 
 
 On one occasion, somewhat earlier, we find re- 
 corded : — 
 
 "In the afternoon came above twenty visitors 
 from ten different towns." 
 
 An old letter (1839) says : " Sometimes there 
 seems to be a simultaneous movement among our 
 friends and they come to us in swarms. Our com- 
 pany has been gradually accumulating until yester- 
 day afternoon, when it became quite overwhelming. 
 Our friends (I speak more particularly of the female 
 part) seemed determined to come at all events, and 
 if they could not get a man to drive, they would 
 come without. Such a collection of chaises, bug- 
 gies and wagons of all descriptions you seldom see 
 collected together. There were the old and young, 
 the beautiful and the plain, the rich and poor, high 
 and low, met together. I was told that two rooms
 
 98 UNDER A COLONIAL ROOF-TREE. 
 
 were occupied for a considerable part of the after- 
 noon." 
 
 " The Mansion of our Forefathers," as Mrs. 
 Phelps calls it; seems to have been always the scene 
 of a generous hospitahty. As the grandchildren 
 grew up, they were warmly welcomed and tenderly 
 cared for. The whole family of the son or daughtei- 
 was often entertained. 
 
 Her simple nature seldom takes heed of anything 
 worldly, but after a visit to Boston she writes to 
 Betsey : — 
 
 " Daughter Sally has had her Aunt Parsons' 
 bracelets sent her since her Aunt's death. The day 
 before we came away she had her aunt's muff and 
 tippet, cost $120 in Russia." 
 
 This and an allusion to the remodeling of a gown 
 by a city dressmaker are almost the only references 
 to outside appearance. 
 
 She frequently takes herself to task for short- 
 comings in the control of temper and the perform- 
 ance of duties. A more wholesome, unaffected 
 piety it would be difficult to find. Her interest 
 in friends and neighbors never weakens ; her solici- 
 tude for the members of her own household does 
 not fail. 
 
 Sometimes, after a long and busy day, she sits 
 down to write by the lamplight, in the " Long 
 Room," where she may be undisturbed. Her hus- 
 band, on such occasions, was away from home on 
 business. One of his great interests connected with
 
 FIREPLACE IN THE LONG ROOM
 
 A DIARY OF LONG AGO. 99 
 
 church affairs, in which he was always prominent, 
 was the erection of a new meeting-house. Of this 
 he superintended every detail, from the hauling of 
 the lumber to the disposal of the pews. 
 
 The building is spoken of by President Dwight 
 as a " handsome structure, superior to any other in 
 this country." 
 
 It was afterwards removed from West Street to 
 the Middle Street, where it now stands. 
 
 Among matters of general concern mentioned 
 from time to time, we find the follomng reference 
 to a peculiarly trying summer, that of 1805. 
 
 After a refreshing rain on August 1st, she 
 writes : — 
 
 " No rain to wet the ground from June 9th, eight 
 weeks. Already the face of nature is changed. 
 God I thank thee, we feel our dependence, and now 
 Lord may we feel gratitude." 
 
 Except for violent headaches, there is little men- 
 tion of illness, and no indication of faihng health 
 up to the last date in the diary. That occurs 1812, 
 April 5, Lord's Day. 
 
 "Thursday, Fast Day. Mr. Woodbridge. 2 
 Timothy 3, 1, 2, 3, & 4 verses. ^ This know that 
 in the last days perilous times shall come.' Satt. 
 sent letter to Betsey." 
 
 Her death took place in November, 1817, at the 
 age of sixty-nine. She survived her husband three 
 years. 
 
 At the close of such a long and honorable life
 
 100 UNDER A COLONIAL ROOF-TREE. 
 
 it is interesting' to recall an anecdote told of her 
 when only four or five years old : '' During the last 
 illness of her grandmother, the child was found 
 alone in a retired room, repeating aloud the old 
 hymn of which this is one of the stanzas : — 
 
 ' Lord, if thou lengthen out my days, 
 Then shall my heart so fixed be 
 That I may lengthen out thy praise, 
 And never turn aside from thee.' "
 
 LATER LIFE IN THE OLD MANSION. 
 
 I see . . . 
 
 The hills curve loimd like a bended bow, . . . 
 
 And round and round, over valley and hill. 
 
 Old roads winding, as old roads will. 
 
 Here to a ferry, and there to a mill ; 
 
 And glimpses of chimneys, and gabled eaves. 
 
 Through green elm arches and maple leaves, — 
 
 Old homesteads, sacred to all that can 
 
 Gladden or sadden the heart of man, — 
 
 Over whose thresholds of oak and stone 
 
 Life and Death have come and gone ! 
 
 J. G. Whittier. 
 
 By the year 1816 a fine family of sons and 
 daughters was growing up in the Connecticut par- 
 sonage, but country salaries were in those days no 
 more adequate than they are now to meet the in- 
 creasing expenses of such a household. The minis- 
 ter himself thus describes his circumstances : — 
 
 '* Here I am, then, planted down in social life 
 with a fair prospect of usefulness, in a companion- 
 ship every way conducive to domestic comfort and 
 every earthly enjoyment. Happy could it have been 
 continued. It was ordered otherwise. My dependence 
 for support was the settlement (^1,000) and four 
 liundred dollars salary. The offer was made before 
 my leaving New Haven. My friends there told me
 
 102 UNDER A COLONIAL ROOF-TREE. 
 
 I could never live upon it. I told them their prom- 
 ises at Litchfield were fair in case of insufficiency. 
 
 Dr. Dwight, I remember, told me a story, as he 
 often did, of a Northampton man, I believe it was a 
 Mr. Lyman. The man had a son much in the same 
 predicament as I was. His father asked him if he 
 could live upon the salary offered him. He replied, 
 ' Father, the people are very able, and very gener- 
 ous ; it is a country town ; thirty or forty professional 
 characters ; schools of every grade ; great geniuses 
 among them ; and they have been in the habit of 
 making liberal presents to their former minister, and 
 doubtless will continue them.' His father's reply was 
 ' Bind 'em, John.' ' They will supply me with fire- 
 wood, father, as they have always been in the habit 
 of doing for their minister, — of course.' ' Bind 
 'em, John.' ' But, father, they have to pay their 
 former minister, now worn out with age and faithful 
 services, his whole salary, which was only o£100 
 ($333.33), from which they expect soon to be re- 
 leased, and which they say can just as well be added 
 to mine as not if I survive.' The reply still was, 
 ^ Bind 'em, John.' 
 
 How it came out with John I cannot say. My 
 OAvn case, very similar, I shall not soon forget ; and it 
 will be well for us all not to forget the old proverb, 
 ' A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush ; ' and 
 another we all remember : ^ They that wait for dead 
 men's shoes may go barefoot.' For years the sup- 
 port of my family was eked out by bountiful contri-
 
 LATER LIFE IN THE OLD MANSION. 103 
 
 butions from abroad, as well as at home, particularly 
 from ' Forty Acres.' 
 
 My wife had parents, blessed be the memory of 
 their generous souls ! who from their abundance 
 would not suffer their daughter for a day to live in 
 want of comforts appropriate to her station, and 
 which they were able to afford her. As the wants 
 of an increasing- family required, wagon-loads and 
 sleigh-loads of things necessary to the body were 
 sent us gratuitously, from year to year, above sev- 
 enty miles. To say nothing of my own feelings, my 
 people seemed too Avell pleased with it to suit my 
 notion. I have ever felt bound to support my family 
 honorably, and nobody that I ever heard of ever ac- 
 cused us of any extravagance. . . . Within a year 
 from leaving Litchfield, I was settled in Middletown. 
 
 After trying awhile, without any particular mis- 
 fortune, I found that my income did not meet the 
 expenses of an increasing establishment, in the style 
 of city life. 
 
 I asked again for an honorable dismission, which 
 I obtained without difficulty. I found a pleasant re- 
 treat on the patrimony of my wife. We came to 
 Hadley to reside in 1816. Our mother, Mrs. Phelps, 
 who had been a widow about two years, survived her 
 husband from this time about as long;." 
 
 For many years the old home was now overflow- 
 ing with the vigor and gayety of young life. After 
 the eldest had gone out into the world, the eleventh 
 child was born, the youngest of seven sons who 
 grew up to manhood.
 
 104 UNDER A COLONIAL ROOF-TREE. 
 
 Although the boys engaged in the work of the 
 farm, they were all afforded excellent opportunities 
 for study, and attended the village academy, of 
 which their father was for some years preceptor. 
 Several were thus fitted for college. The daughters 
 finished their education at that excellent establish- 
 ment for young women, Mrs. Willard's seminary, at 
 Troy. Like their brothers, however, they took their 
 part in the homely duties of the household. One 
 of their occupations is thus described : — 
 
 " Singing was a favorite pastime with the sisters, 
 and as they had excellent voices they enlivened 
 their work with song. They were good spinners 
 on the large wheel, and used to have their regular 
 morning tasks in spinning woolen yarn. 
 
 In the summer they used to place their wheels in 
 the corn-house and make it sing with their music 
 until it seemed as though every skein of the yarn 
 had a thread of harmony woven into its very fibre. 
 
 I wonder if you ever saw the process going on 
 of spinning on the large wheel ? As a gymnastic 
 exercise merely, it was vastly superior to any mod- 
 ern invention. Dancing is vapid in comparison, 
 because though a graceful exercise it is purposeless 
 except as a selfish amusement. 
 
 Common gymnastics have a purpose, but as gen- 
 erally practiced the means and the end are so indis- 
 tinct that many do not see it. But in this matter 
 of spinning there is not only variety of movement, 
 the unequal but measured tread backward and for-
 
 LATER LIFE IN THE OLD MANSION. 105 
 
 ward, and the independent action of each arm, but 
 behind all there was the purpose which gave power 
 to every movement. Very likely it was owing to 
 the training* of the large spinning-wheel, more than 
 they imagined, that the matrons of a former genera- 
 tion were able to appear with grace and dignity in 
 any sphere in which they may have been called to 
 move." 
 
 When the eldest sister was to be married, her 
 trousseau must be provided at home. 
 
 "I suppose the fitting a daughter with her mar- 
 riage portion was quite a different thing when I was 
 a boy from what it is now. In my sister's case 
 the linen, and I presume the woolens also, were 
 furnished from the farm. 
 
 I recollect very well going over to Northampton 
 in company with brother T. to drive a fat ox which 
 was to help pay for the outfit, and this payment 
 was added to from time to time, if I am not mis- 
 taken, by other products of the farm. 
 
 My sister had the promise of all the flax and 
 wool also, I believe, that she could spin, to be made 
 into fabrics. I imagine this would not be consid- 
 ered much of an offer now as a part of a marriage 
 portion, but it was gladly accepted by her, and I 
 doubt if the little spinning-wheel ever knew a more 
 busy season than that which preceded her wed- 
 ding. 
 
 The old north kitchen was her workroom, and 
 every sunrise of the week-days found her seated
 
 106 UNDER A COLONIAL ROOF-TREE. 
 
 beside the wheel, her hair bound up tightly with 
 a kerchief to keep out the dust, her foot upon the 
 treadle with measured beat, her nimble fingers pull- 
 ing the well-combed flax from the distaff, and giv- 
 ing it that nicety of touch which should make the 
 thread fine and even, before the flyer should fas- 
 ten upon it with its irrevocable twist and send it 
 to the spool. 
 
 I used to rise early in those days, and many a 
 morning my first visit would be to the north 
 kitchen, for no reason but to catch sight of the 
 earnest figure and be entertained by the lively hum 
 of the wheel." 
 
 Besides the hours devoted to work and play, 
 both boys and girls were encouraged at home in 
 the cultivation of a Hterary taste. It was the cus- 
 tom to spend their leisure time in reading. They 
 were constantly supplied with the standard works, 
 and with publications of the day in different fields 
 of writing, — theology, history, fiction, and biogra- 
 phy especially. The size of the family and the 
 distance from the village had a tendency to throw 
 the children together for companionship, and also 
 to lead them to seek resources in themselves. In 
 this way the home life became a peculiarly happy 
 one. 
 
 Of its simple pleasures one of them has writ- 
 ten : — 
 
 " To a boy or girl on the farm, every day brings 
 its fresh surprises. The new life in the shape of a
 
 LATER LIFE IN THE OLD MANSION. 107 
 
 young calf or lamb, or brood of chickens, is always 
 a new joy, however often repeated, and in spring- 
 especially the love of color, form, and sound is 
 ministered to by spring flowers, or hum of insects, 
 or dash of butterfly, or plumage and melody of 
 birds in endless succession. I recall at this moment 
 some of the early summer mornings in Hadley. 
 How changed from the night before ! It was as if 
 a new picture had been drawn by the Infinite Artist 
 for my especial pleasure. Earth and sky are writ- 
 ten over anew with the finger of God, and the 
 world exults in sunlight and song. Each object has 
 a beauty of its own, fresh, perfect, and inimitable. 
 With me, too, this novelty pertains to the seasons 
 no less than to the panorama of the passing days. 
 I beheve the first note of the robin or bluebird in 
 spring even now awakens a thrill not less keen than 
 it did fifty years ago. 
 
 Long before the house-fly tries its wings on the 
 kitchen window, or the clover-bud bursts its winter 
 sheath, I feel as though I must anticipate the season 
 by dabbling in a small way with plant life. 
 
 I imagine that some such subtle tie as this keeps 
 alive the charm of rural life." 
 
 Especially associated with childhood on the old 
 farm was the keeping of the annual Thanksgiving. 
 ^' It was one of the days we reckoned by, the dividing 
 line between summer and winter, as well as the days 
 of reunions and festivities. The season's work, as 
 far as the land was concerned, was expected to be
 
 108 UNDER A COLONIAL ROOF-TREE. 
 
 done before Thanksgi\dng ; and indoors, house-clean- 
 ing* with its vexations must be well out of the way. 
 
 The Avinter supply of apple-sauce must have 
 been made ere this. The apples from the Mt. War- 
 ner orchard had been laid up, and a generous quan- 
 tity of the juice had been boiled down to the consist- 
 ency of thin molasses, with which to sweeten the 
 sauce, for our forefathers were economical. 
 
 The old cider-mill, which had been all the season 
 screeching its protest against the sacrilegious use 
 of one of Nature's best gifts by turning it into 
 brandy, had uttered its last groan, and stood with 
 naked jaws and bending sweep, a ghastly spectacle, 
 until another season should comjjel a renewal of its 
 doleful cries. The apple-paring, with its array of 
 tubs and baskets and knives and jolly faces before 
 the bright kitchen fire, was completed, with the 
 Hallowe'en games of counting the apple seeds, and 
 throwing the paring over the head to see its trans- 
 formation into the initials of some fair maiden. 
 
 The great day for the conversion of the apples 
 into sauce had lately come and gone, for it must be 
 delayed as long as possible, that it may not ferment 
 and spoil. The stout crane that swung over the 
 huge fireplace was loaded with one or more brass 
 kettles filled with apples, sweet and sour in proper 
 proportion, the former being put at the bottom be- 
 cause they required more time to cook. Sprinkled 
 through the mass were a few quinces, if they were 
 to be had, to give flavor, while over the whole was
 
 LATER LIFE IN THE OLD MANSION. 109 
 
 poured the pungent apple molasses which supplied 
 the sweetening. The great danger was that the 
 sauce should burn ; and to prevent this, some house- 
 wives had clean straw prepared and laid at the bot- 
 tom of the kettles, lest the apples should come in too 
 near contact with the fire. It was an all-day pro- 
 cess, but when completed an article was produced 
 which was always in order for the table, and which, 
 if slightly frozen, was enjoyed with a keener relish 
 than the ice-cream of the restaurants of to-day. 
 
 I suppose every family has its own way of prepar- 
 ing for and keeping Thanksgiving, but possibly the 
 children may be interested to know how their grand- 
 parents kept it at their age. Truth obliges me to tell 
 that it began, like the old Jewish Feast of the Pass- 
 over, with a great slaughter, not of lambs, however, 
 but of equally innocent chickens, and — must I con- 
 fess it ? — on the Sunday evening of Thanksgiving 
 week. I can only say in palliation of this, that it 
 was a religious feast, or, if that does not satisfy the 
 humane instincts of the age, I will add that in those 
 days Sunday was universally regarded as beginning 
 at sundown Saturday and ending on Sunday. 
 
 Charles Dudley Warner says that, though this 
 was the theory practically, as far as the young folks 
 were concerned, and perhaps not altogether without 
 example from their elders, the Sunday began at 
 candle-lighting Saturday and ended at sundown the 
 next day. But Warner, as we know, is a great 
 humorist, and sometimes goes to the very verge of
 
 110 UNDEK A COLONIAL KOOF-TREE. 
 
 the actual to make a point ; but, judged by his own 
 representations, our fathers could hardly be called 
 Sabbath-breakers because the hen-roosts were never 
 allowed to be visited till after dark ! Will the law- 
 yers admit my defense ? 
 
 Monday was devoted, of course, to the weekly 
 washing, and nothing must interfere with that. 
 
 Tuesday was the great day for the making of pies, 
 of which there were from thirty to fifty baked in the 
 great oven that crackled and roared right merrily in 
 anticipation of the rich medley that was being made 
 ready for its capacious maw. Two kinds of apple 
 pies, two of pumpkin, rice, and cranberry made out 
 the standard list, to which additions were sometimes 
 made. Then in our younger days we children each 
 had a patty of his own. These were made in tins of 
 various shapes, of which we had our choice, as well 
 of the material of which our respective pies should 
 be composed The provident among us would put 
 these aside until the good things were not quite so 
 abundant. 
 
 Was not that a breath equal to the ' spicy breezes 
 of Ceylon ' that greeted us as the mouth of the oven 
 was taken down, and the savor of its rich compounds 
 penetrated every crevice of the old kitchen, like sacri- 
 ficial incense ? Then, as the pies were taken out 
 and landed on the brick hearth, and a number of 
 pairs of eyes were watching the proceedings with the 
 keenest interest, it would not be strange if pies and 
 eyes sometimes got mixed ujj. I remember once
 
 LATER LIFE IN THE OLD MANSION. Ill 
 
 quite a sensation was produced in the little crowd 
 because brother T. lost his balance, and, for want of 
 a chair to break his fall, sat down on one of the 
 smoking hot pies ! 
 
 After cooling' and sorting, the precious delicacies 
 were put away into the large closets in the front 
 entry or hall, which the foot of the small boy was 
 not permitted to profane. 
 
 Wednesday was devoted to chicken pies and raised 
 cake. The making of the latter was a critical opera- 
 tion. If I mistake not, it was begun on Monday. I 
 believe the conditions must be quite exact to have 
 the yeast perform its work perfectly in the rich 
 conglomerated mass. In due time the cake is fin- 
 ished. The chicken pies are kept in the oven, so as 
 to have them still hot for supper. The two tur- 
 keys have been made ready for the spit, the kitchen 
 cleared of every vestige of the great carnival that 
 has reigned for the last two days, and there is a 
 profound pause of an hour or two before the scene 
 opens. 
 
 The happy meetings, the loaded tables, the hilar- 
 ity and good cheer that prevailed, checked but not 
 subdued in after years as one and another of the 
 seats are made vacant by their departure to the 
 better land, — these are things to be imagined, but 
 cannot be described. Warner, in his ' Being a Boy,' 
 says that the hilarity of the day is interfered with 
 by going to meeting and wearing Sunday clothes ; 
 but our parents managed that wisely by dividing
 
 112 UNDER A COLONIAL ROOF-TREE. 
 
 the day, the first half o£ it bemg- kept rehgiously, 
 but the afternoon being given up to festivity, — by 
 no means, however, common week-day work. This 
 was wise, I say, because it would be almost cruel to 
 allow a lot of young people to indulge themselves to 
 the very extent of prudence, to say the least, in 
 eating, and then sit down to reading good books. 
 This distinction between relaxation and toil for pelf 
 is, I think, too often forgotten nowadays, founded 
 as it is on both religion and pliilosophy. I remem- 
 ber w ell the sad look mother gave my brother and 
 myself after our having spent the afternoon in 
 making a hen-house, a very 'cute operation, we 
 thought, but which found no favor in her eyes, as 
 contrary to the traditions of the forefathers. 
 
 But the day after Thanksgiving, it must be ad- 
 mitted, had its pecuHar pleasures. I doubt if there 
 was any other of the hoHdays of the year when we 
 boys felt so strongly the sense of freedom, and it 
 was all the sweeter because it was the last we should 
 have before we were set to our winter tasks. Skat- 
 ing was pretty sure to be one of the sports, if the 
 weather had been cold enouo-h to make the ice 
 strong ; and indoors there remained for our keen 
 appetite the broken bits of pie and cake, to say 
 nothing of the remnants of the turkey and fowl of 
 the day before, and which were enjoyed with a 
 keener reUsh, if possible, than at first. 
 
 I forgot in its more appropriate place to speak of 
 the roasting of the turkey. This was done in a tin
 
 LATER LIFE IN THE OLD MANSION. 113 
 
 oven with an iron rod running through it, and also 
 through the meat that was to be cooked. This was 
 the spit. The meat was fastened to the spit with 
 skewers, so that, by means of a small crank at the 
 end, it could be made to revolve in order to cook 
 evenly. The oven was in shape something like a 
 half cylinder, with the open side to face the fire. 
 But there was a still more primitive way of roasting 
 a turkey, and one which was resorted to sometimes 
 when our family was the largest. Room was made 
 at one end of the fireplace, and the turkey was sus- 
 pended by the legs from the ceiling, Avhere was 
 a contrivance to keep the string turning, and of 
 course with it the turkey. On the hearth was a 
 dish to catch the drippings, and with them the meat 
 was occasionally basted. The thing is accomplished 
 much more easily now, but at an expense, I imagine, 
 in the quality of the work. 
 
 It is interesting to observe the universality of 
 some of the customs that were in vogue fifty and 
 one hundred years ago. In looking over the Cen- 
 tennial of the Churches of Connecticut, I came 
 across the remark that the festive board, so crowded 
 with good things on Thursday, gradually took on a 
 plainer and less profuse array of dishes, until it 
 ended off on Saturday evening with a simple bowl 
 of hasty pudding and milk. This was in Revolu- 
 tionary times ; but fifty years later, when I was a 
 boy, the same practices prevailed ; in fact, hasty 
 pudding and milk was the standing dish for Satur-
 
 114 UNDER A COLONIAL EOOF-TREE. 
 
 (lay evening, as boiled Indian pudding was for Sun- 
 day's dinner. I have been reminded since reading 
 this item of a couplet my brother once repeated to 
 me when we were boys : — 
 
 ' For we know Northampton's rule to be 
 Fried hasty pudding 'long wi' tea.' 
 
 Expressive, if not elegant, and it shows that North- 
 ampton, bating the slight innovation of the tea, was 
 true to New England tradition. 
 
 The Christmas holidays, as they are now ob- 
 served, were not known in the country towns then. 
 New Year's presents were often made, and the 
 ^ Happy New Year ' greeting was passed when 
 neighbors met each other ; but with most })eople we 
 were too near tlie Puritan age to hear the ' Merry 
 Christmas ' so connnon to-day, without a shock as 
 though it were a profanation. 
 
 But our mother seemed to be a kind of seer in 
 this, as in some other things ; and before the chil- 
 dren were too old, St. Nicholas Avas a well-known 
 personage, and the hanging of the stocking in a 
 veritable chimney never proved an idle ceremony. 
 The only legend she ever related to me that I 
 remember concerning the birth of Christ was, that 
 at midnight all the cattle in the yards or fields 
 miirht be seen kneeliu"; with their heads turned to 
 the east in adoration of the wonderful Being who 
 made a manger his cradle, as if in dumb worshi}) 
 they sought a reverential though it might be distant
 
 LATER LIFE IN THE OLD MANSION. 115 
 
 kinship to One who stooped so nearly to their hum- 
 ble condition. I remember the charm that with me 
 attached to the story, and the unwillingness with 
 which I gave up the illusion when she once told us 
 that, in her eagerness to see for herself, she broke 
 the charm by sitting up one Christmas eve with a 
 companion until the spell-bound hour, and visiting 
 the cattle-yard of her father. Is it not sad that 
 one's faith should receive such rude shocks, even 
 before its bounds are reached ! For myself, I can 
 only say that though since then I have cherished 
 many a vision within the bounds of possibility, only 
 to have it marred by the stern realities of life, there 
 is none perhaps that I have given up more reluc- 
 tantly than this sweet, simple legend of the dumb 
 cattle kneelino- in honor of the babe of Bethlehem." 
 
 The mainspring of such a family life was the 
 mother. We have seen what she was in the bloom 
 of youth, when her high order of mind and character 
 attracted the admiration of President Dwight, and 
 through him of her future husband. The promise 
 of early womanhood Avas more than fulfilled in 
 maturity. 
 
 Of the three Elizabeths in direct succession, one 
 passed nearly half a century, the others more than 
 that period, in the old homestead. All were carried 
 over its threshold to their last resting-place in the 
 village graveyard. The first, made a widow by 
 early and sudden bereavement, lived ever after in 
 its shadow. She instilled in her only child that
 
 11(3 UNDER A COLONIAL ROOF-TREE. 
 
 stern sense of duty, that clear discernment between 
 good and evil, that unwavering faith in a righteous 
 Rider, which she had inherited from her forefathers. 
 
 Her own grief seems not to have interfered with 
 those obligations of hospitahty and kinship which 
 her position involved. 
 
 In her daughter, the austerity of a rigid creed 
 was softened by a strong devotional spiiit, a large- 
 hearted humanity, a buoyancy and hopefulness of 
 disiDOsition. 
 
 With the third EHzabeth the same Puritan auster- 
 ity was perhaps accentuated by the inheritance of 
 reserve and stern decision which came from her 
 father's family. Mingled with tliis was a suscepti- 
 bihty and a self-depreciation inclined to melancholy. 
 Hers was a nature resiDondlng quickly to all that 
 was noble, easily depressed by anything false, tender 
 and generous in its sympathies, severe and relentless 
 in self-condemnation. An uncompromising moral 
 sense, joined with the scrupulous Puritan conscience, 
 led her to seek the attainment of the hiohest stand- 
 ard in herself and her family. A large benevolence 
 made her lenient and pitiful towards the sinful and 
 the suffering. 
 
 Her deep affection for her children, and her in- 
 tense concern for their spiiitual welfare, is apparent 
 in her private writings. 
 
 The journal which she kejDt most of her life is 
 almost entirely a record of her private feelings, 
 prayers, and heart-searchings. It begins in her girl-
 
 THE FAMILY BURIAL-PLACE
 
 LATER LIFE IN THE OLD MANSION. 117 
 
 hood with a solemn covenant which was renewed 
 every year. With the birth o£ her children their 
 names are continually repeated, and solicitude for 
 their spiritual welfare occupies her more and more. 
 
 " Her whole journal was studded with prayers, as 
 the heavens are with stars. It seems sometimes in 
 reading it as if the mere mention of one of our 
 names was enough to kindle into flame the hidden 
 lire that ever lived within her breast. 
 
 It is no small privilege to be able to call such a 
 woman mother. I think, next to our great Advo- 
 cate who is ever at the right hand of the Father to 
 make intercession for us, in persistence and in power 
 are the prayers of those who gave me birth, and I 
 should not dare to say how far they may not reach, 
 or the favors they may not secure. 
 
 I can only compare our mother to some faithful 
 soldier to whom is committed the task of bringing 
 the household of a king from a distant province 
 through an unfriendly country to the capital of the 
 empire, whose loyalty and devotion were so ardent 
 that he would gladly give up his own life rather than 
 that of those intrusted to his care should be lost. 
 But she was not content with this : she would lay 
 hold of those by the wayside, and, by the sweet 
 compulsion of her prayers, compel them to be her 
 allies and escorts. 
 
 If we speak of vigilance, persistence, or fertility 
 of resource, of courage and endurance, Stanley's 
 famous march through the African wilderness to the
 
 118 UXDER A COLONIAL ROOF-TREE. 
 
 ocean was as much inferior to it as earth to heaven ; 
 and as she saw one after another enter the palace 
 portals and vanish from her sight, she could say 
 through hhnding tears, ' Father, I thank thee.' " 
 
 Any chronicle of early New England Hfe would 
 be incomplete without taking note of a great reli- 
 gious change which passed over it during the first 
 quarter of the present century. That its influence 
 was felt even in a lonely farmhouse, by a woman of 
 such intense character as Elizabeth H., is not remark- 
 able. While her husband, through his ministerial 
 associations, realized the quickening imjjulse of freer 
 thought, she also in her spiritual communings sought 
 for guidance in a gospel which preached love to 
 man as well as love to God. 
 
 From the pulpit under which she had sat since 
 childhood, there were weekly outpourings of anath- 
 ema, fiery denunciations of the unconverted, dog- 
 matic dissertations on the riohteousness of the 
 
 o 
 
 Almighty. But the story of the Reconciliation, of 
 Him who became man for the sake of his brothers, 
 was lost sight of. 
 
 The old Puritan faith had been grand in its un- 
 hesitating belief in a Ruler and Lawgiver, with the 
 sense of personaUty which upheld the conscience in 
 responsibility to its Maker. The later teachings from 
 the lips of New England divines obscured this sim- 
 ple and direct creed by constantly dwelling on hu- 
 man depravity and the doctrines of a theological 
 system which seemed to fetter the will itself. The
 
 LATER LIFE IN THE OLD MANSION. 119 
 
 vileness of the creature was indeed depicted with a 
 view to exalt the majesty and sovereignty of God ; 
 the certain damnation of the wicked was a theme 
 intended to enhance the future blessedness of the 
 elect. But there were those whose love for God was 
 best satisfied in performing deeds of mercy and char- 
 ity towards man, and whose conception of salvation 
 was not that of personal security. To such the ter- 
 rors of judgment appealed little ; trust in Heavenly 
 Love was the mainspring of life. They longed to 
 help the suffering, to break the chains of the slave, 
 to bring peace and order to a distracted world. 
 
 The era of religious enthusiasm in which so many 
 New England churches broke from the bondage of 
 Calvinism was a period of activity in the cause of 
 humanity. Here EHzabeth found her happiness 
 and delight. The anti-slavery movement was to her 
 more than sentiment. As a practical proof of her 
 interest in the African race, she took a little black 
 boy, not only under her care, but into her own 
 sleeping-room. 
 
 She eagerly read and distributed the pubUcations 
 of the Peace Society. The beginning of the tem- 
 perance agitation engaged her ardent sympathy. 
 
 When the change of view of so conspicuous a 
 member of the Hadley congregation became known, 
 she was subjected to rigid inquiry by the deacons. 
 After many visits and repeated interrogations she 
 was judged guilty of heresy, and her name stricken 
 from the list of church members.
 
 120 UNDER A COLONIAL ROOF-TREE. 
 
 This exclusion from the table where her father 
 and mother had communed could not fail to be a 
 grief to one of so sensitive and conscientious a dis- 
 position. Her husband, as a clergyman, was under 
 no such jurisdiction. Although often occu}3ying 
 pulpits in the neighborhood, where a more liberal 
 creed had been adopted, he at other times accom- 
 panied his wife to the place of worship in North- 
 ampton which she continued to attend during the 
 remainder of her life. Sorely as he and her children 
 resented the unnecessary persecution of so good and 
 noble a woman, they regarded it as the unhappy 
 outcome of a perverted ecclesiasticism. In later 
 years they returned to their old place in the village 
 meeting, knowing that in spite of differences they 
 were made welcome. 
 
 To the little library over the old porch, w^here 
 the ancient volumes of Edwards, Wigglesworth, and 
 other stern theologians long stood alone, new ser- 
 mons and essays now found their way. Channing 
 and Martineau, Ware and Dewey, were widely read 
 in the awakening of new ideas. 
 
 The movement which they represented has passed 
 away, like that form of Puritanism which preceded 
 it. There is no " Brimstone Corner " now left in 
 Boston, neither is there any society of rehgious 
 teaching such as that of fifty years ago. Many of 
 its followers returned to the mother church in which 
 their English forefathers had been baptized ; some 
 joined the Roman communion ; many have formed 
 what are known as Liberal denominations.
 
 LATER LIFE IN THE OLD MANSION. 121 
 
 As a phase of reverent religious belief, Scriptural 
 in its foundation, broad and tender in its sympa- 
 thies, elevating in its influence, the present genera- 
 tion owes a debt of gratitude to the school of Chan- 
 ning and his contemporaries. It distinctly inherited 
 much that was noble in Puritanism. Its traces are 
 seen in New England Kterature, in its philanthropy, 
 in its morality, in its social teaching. It may yet 
 prove to have been the doorway into a Universal 
 Church, and a step towards the reahzation of a true 
 Brotherhood of Man. 
 
 The third Ehzabeth lived to see her grandchil- 
 dren growing up around her. She passed from 
 earth on one of those fast days which she kept 
 so strictly, the anniversary of her youthful self- 
 dedication. 
 
 Her husband, who Hved to the age of ninety- 
 one, retaining to the last his genial disposition and 
 kindly interest in all around him, wrote an account 
 of his wife when past his eightieth birthday. 
 
 He says, speaking of her later years : — 
 
 " She was continually seeking out the poor, the 
 ignorant, the vicious and unhappy, in her district, 
 and devising modest and efficient plans for their 
 oood. The latest desig-ns she formed were for the 
 moral and religious instruction of some destitute and 
 colored children ; and the last toil of her enfeebled 
 hands was spent in preparing some article of com- 
 fort for an orphan. 
 
 Her final illness was painful, and continued more
 
 122 UNDER A COLONIAL ROOF-TREE. 
 
 than a year. Her confidence in the Father's love 
 was perfectly undisturbed. Her accustomed piety 
 Avas too deep and too sincere to gliiiinier into any 
 unnatural transports. Her strongest desire to be 
 released from the agony of her disorder was uttered, 
 after a weary night, in the words of the patriarch, 
 ^ Let me go, for the day breaketh.' Reminded of 
 the loved ones who had gone before her, she re- 
 plied, ^ Oh yes ! I shall look them all up.' 
 
 Her mental powers and accomplishments were of 
 a high order. She had a rare ability in stamping 
 her ideas on other minds. Through all her busy 
 life, crowded with the cares of training eleven chil- 
 dren, besides many voluntary engagements, she 
 maintained a daily habit of reading the best books. 
 She sang in an excellent, musical voice, and occa- 
 sionally accompanied herself on the guitar. 
 
 One of the great privileges of her children was to 
 gather about her, and hear her sing sacred songs on 
 Sunday evenings, chief of which was the Bethlehem 
 hymn, beginning', — 
 
 ' When marshaled on the nightly plain, 
 The glittering host bestud the sky.' 
 
 But, vigorous and active as her intellect was, her 
 chief glory was her large and holy heart. She 
 loved righteousness and truth better than any creed 
 or sect. She loved those her Heavenly Father per- 
 mitted her to call her own with a constancy and 
 tenderness that no language can represent. She
 
 LATER LIFE IN THE OLD MANSION. 123 
 
 loved the Lord her God with all her soul ; she loved 
 her neio'hbor as herself. 
 
 In the family life of that time, the old home 
 received a new name. Some letters of the daugh- 
 ters to their school friends are dated, playfully, 
 " Vallee Douce," but as " Ehn Valley " it has been 
 known to the descendants ever since. 
 
 Nearly a century and a half have passed since 
 Moses Porter raised the roof-tree. Before his occu- 
 pancy only the cattle of the colonist or the foot of 
 the red man trod its soil. Since he first tilled the 
 fields, his title with that of his grandchildi-en and 
 great-grandchildren has been maintained by that 
 only which is of true value, — the use and develop- 
 ment of its resources. Only what is of direct bene- 
 fit to the community has been cultivated on its 
 fertile acres, and the wild woodland has been left 
 in all its beauty. 
 
 Another family mansion, dear also from associa- 
 tion, stands on part of the original estate, which has 
 gradually been divided and subdivided. 
 
 The ancient home has seen many come and go. 
 From the little child who last toddled over its door- 
 w^ay, back to the first of the line who crossed the 
 threshold, eight generations may be counted. Could 
 the old walls repeat the story of the life passed 
 within them, it would be a record of simple habits, 
 homely toil, godly conversation, gentle manners. 
 
 Nane of those who lived there desired greatly the 
 world's riches, or the world's applause. They were
 
 124 UNDER A COLONIAL ROOF-TREE. 
 
 content to serve their neighbors and the commu- 
 nity with the same spirit in which their forefathers 
 founded the new country. They have bequeathed 
 to those who come after the best birthright, — an 
 example of loyalty and \4rtue which it is in the 
 power of each one to imitate.
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 An especial purpose of the foregoing collection was to 
 preserve the descriptions of life in his boyhood, taken 
 from letters of the late Theodore G. Huntington. Not 
 long before his death in 1875, he wrote out these remini- 
 scences for his niece, Mrs. Josiah P. Quincy, by whose 
 permission they are published. 
 
 The third Elizabeth married Rev. Dan Huntington, 
 who was born in Lebanon, Connecticut, October 11, 
 1774. 
 
 Their children were Charles Phelps, Elizabeth Porter, 
 William Pitkin, Bethia Throop, Edward Phelps, John 
 Whiting, Theophilus Parsons, Theodore Gregson, Mary 
 Dwight, Catherine Carey, Frederic Dan. The youngest 
 was born at the old homestead in Hadley, Massachusetts, 
 May 28, 1819. His affection for the place led him to pur- 
 chase it of the other heirs after his father's death, and it 
 was thenceforward his summer home until he passed away 
 peacefully under its roof on the afternoon of July 11, 1904. 
 His mortal body rests in the Hadley Cemetery, in the en- 
 closure where are laid his parents, three sisters, and two 
 brothers. On the tablet which he himself erected to their 
 memory is inscribed, in conformity with theirs, simply his 
 name and age, eighty-five years ; and beneath, his title, 
 First Bishop of Central New York. 
 
 The residence still known as Pine Grove, but for many 
 years also as the Phelps mansion, was built on the south- 
 ern portion of the estate in 1816, by the only son of 
 Charles Phelps, Charles Porter Phelps. He removed his 
 family from Boston the following year, and settled for the
 
 126 APPENDIX. 
 
 remainder of liis life in his native place, where he held a 
 high reputation as an upright and honorable lawyer and a 
 public spirited representative. The house is now occupied 
 by descendants of Bishop Huntington. 
 
 The facts relating to the early history of New Hamp- 
 shire are taken from the " Phelps Memorial," prepared 
 for his grandchildren by the late John Phelps, whose wife, 
 Mrs. Almira Lincoln Phelps, was well known through her 
 writings on science and education. 
 
 An interesting circumstance connected with the Porter 
 family is the history of their ancestor, Major Aaron 
 Cooke, whose handsome monument in the Northampton 
 Cemetery was erected by the father of the late Josiah 
 Parsons Cooke, of Harvard University, a lineal descen- 
 dant. 
 
 Aaron Cooke landed in Dorchester at the age of twenty, 
 became one of the noble Colonists at Windsor, Connecti- 
 cut, and removed later to Northampton, Massachusetts, 
 with his Pastor, Rev. Eleazer Mather, at the latter's ex- 
 press request. He was a famous wolf-slayer, a brave 
 officer, and, although a strong friend of the Regicide 
 Judges, he received under Governor Andros the highest 
 military rank in the Colony. 
 
 In his last Testament he divides between his sons his 
 staff and sword, his military equipment and library ; be- 
 queathes to a grandson one hundred and fifty acres of land 
 and a Bible ; to a granddaughter a cow and a Bible, and 
 further provides : " It is my will that a silver bowl be 
 bought and given to the Church of Christ in Northamp- 
 ton, if continuing in the Congregational way. I say a 
 bowl of six pounds price." 
 
 Major Cooke married a connection of William P3'^nchon 
 of Springfield. His son Aaron married Sarah Westwood, 
 whose father William was an influential member of the
 
 APPENDIX. 127 
 
 Windsor Colony. They were the first man and wife mar- 
 ried in the town of Hadley, and their daughter Joanna 
 married Samuel Porter, who was the first male child born 
 in Hadley. A grandson of this couijle was Moses Porter, 
 who first set up the Colonial Roof-tree in September, 
 1753.
 
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