CHAPTER X.

The Early Industries of Berlin. The Houses of Berlin Street and Their Occupants.

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When we study the early industries of Berlin, we find that it was distinctively a "Yankee" town, and on looking here for that "Yankee" ingenuity that made the six small states of New England the nucleus of the developed prosperity of the whole country, we are astonished at the way in which the sons and daughters of every household adopted some trade or profession, which they practiced under the family roof or in a small shop within the dooryard. In the earlier days all manufactured goods were brought in slow sailing vessels from across the sea, mostly from England, and sold at high prices. Our forefathers' wants were few yet their dollars fewer, and with unbounded energy and ability they soon set to work to make what they had neither the means nor the desire to buy. No drones were allowed. Laziness was a disgrace and a crime. Each member of the community turned his hand to some art of practical

* A considerable portion of this chapter is based on a paper, read by Mr. Frank L. Wilcox at the Old Home Day celebration in the Second Congregational Church, Berlin, Sept. 20, 1905, and may be said to be a revision and enlargement of his paper. The work of Mr. Wilcox is most noticeable in the beginning —his specialty was the industries of Berlin— and a number of pages were written by him. The material presented in this chapter constituted the beginning of the historical articles on Berlin, as they appeared in the Berlin News, and it is desirable that it should all be reproduced here for the sake of greater completeness. With the permission of Mr. Wilcox, therefore, his own contribution is reprinted along with Miss North's. The reasons for not making this part the first chapter in the book have been stated in the foreword. The introductory paragraphs on the early industries of Berlin, written by Mr. Wilcox, may be given here:
When a few years ago Miss Catharine M. North and I began a study of the good people who lived in the early homes of Berlin in Worthington Society, we were impressed with the fact that nearly every house had sheltered a master mechanic with his apprentices and journeymen, and there seemed no better way to interest this assembly of former residents of Berlin who have returned for Old Home Day, than to present to you the material gathered regarding the homes and activities of your ancestors and their neighbors.

While no trouble has been spared to make each statement accurate, authorities have in some cases disagreed, and should errors be discovered, the indulgence of this audience is asked by the writer who would be grateful for corrections, or for further items of interest relating to our subject. I have not undertaken to say anything regarding the parish of Kensington, for the reason that some resident of that part of the town would know his field better than I, and again a description of Kensington would make a delightful subject for some future Old Home day.

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utility, first for domestic necessity or convenience, next for barter with his neighbor; then as money became more plenty to sell in his own and adjoining settlements.

In the course of time certain manufacturers, of superior executive ability, increased their forces until they were able to undersell less fortunate makers.

Journeymen could earn higher wages in a factory than at an independent bench and forsook their old masters.

It was no longer profitable for each family and community to make what they could buy cheaply in the stores.

The constantly increasing tendency was to concentrate trade in the larger towns, while leading men and skilled artisans banded themselves together in factory centers.

Finally, on the principle that "In union there is strength," by the inevitable "law of the survival of the fittest," and as the usual consequence of competition, ancient Berlin shared the fate of all small towns in New England. Her many and varied industries were slowly but surely closed.

One result of these changed conditions of which we have been speaking has been to destroy a type of our country life that seemed ideal. The head of the family—and there were families in those days—was like a patriarch, ruling his household with

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dignity, reverenced by his children, his apprentices and his hired servants. One of Berlin's "Fore-elders," at whose table more than a score of persons were fed daily, was quoted as saying that "As God was to the human race, so was the relation of the father to his family." Alas! the tribe has gone never to return.

While we regret that so little of the former enterprise remained for the development of its native town, still we feel honored that its talents have been absorbed in the prosperity of adjoining places. In many cities now famous for sheet metal work we can trace the skill of the workmen back to the original industry in Berlin.

The chief manufacturing enterprises of the town were in its tin shops, blacksmith and shoemakers' shops. The shoes were worn by the busy people and were shipped to distant markets.

The blacksmiths were manufacturing metal workers, who made by hand, with blows of the hammer upon the anvil, ev6ry thing of iron and steel that was used, from nails, hinges, and latches for their houses, and tuning forks with which to pitch their psalm tunes, to shovels, hoes, scythes, and plows for the farm, while the tin manufacturers of Berlin commanded the trade of the country.

The author of "Dwight's Travels" tells us that after the war with Great Britain, in 1815, "10,000 boxes of tinned plate was manufactured into culinary vessels, in the Town of Berlin, in one year." It was a grave question to know what to do with the scrap tin. Piles of it are even now, occasionally, turned up by the plow, and the road leading from the hotel west, and from Brandegee's hill towards East Berlin is filled with the waste pieces of tin so that a team driven swiftly over the roads to-day will bring forth a resonant silvery ring.

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It is interesting to learn that Charles Parker desired to locate his plant here on the corner opposite the post office. Had he done so the great works of the Charles Parker company in Meri-den might have been in Berlin, and Berlin a city to-day instead of a country village surrounded by cities which had hardly a name when Berlin was well known and prosperous.

At another time the Meriden Britannia Company thought seriously of combining with the tin shop now operated by Mr. Damon, and locating here as one business enterprise. We hear other similar stories. Why so many local factories were closed and so few outside factories could establish a footing here it is difficult to say; but this we know that the original layout of the New York, New Haven & Hartford Railroad passed along the west side of the "Golden Ridge," providing for a depot on the corner in Lower Lane near Mr. Arnold's. But the farmers were unwilling to sell their land and cut up their farms; while the residents of "The Street" fought the plan on account of the smoke, noise, and danger from fire, and to life and limb, so that the survey was changed and the road passed two miles to the west. The arguments that drove away the steam cars were undoubtedly used to repel manufacturing industries.

An idea of the way our forefathers transacted their business can be gained from the following, as given by one of our oldest residents: When ships arrived at New Haven or Middletown, the merchandise for Berlin and towns beyond were loaded onto two-, four- or six-horse teams, as it was a common thing to see twenty or twenty-five of these heavily-loaded teams coming into Berlin like a long caravan. The night was generally spent at the taverns. The horses were stabled, but there was not room under the sheds for the wagons so they were left in the road and often lined the street on both sides for a quarter of a mile. Many of us remember the dust-colored, canvas-topped, innocent looking wagons that quietly passed through Berlin in strings of a dozen or more, carrying gunpowder from Hazardville to the seaboard, and we also remember the town ordinance that

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they should not be left at the hotel or on the streets but should be stationed on the town hall green, under guard; also we can recall the words of command from our fathers, and the tender admonitions of our mothers, to keep away from the wagons. Under these circumstances how attractive the wagons were! Each mother's son answered for his own obedience.

In addition to Yankee ingenuity and enterprise the many streams with their water power have made New England the manufacturing center of this continent. Nearly all of the industries of Berlin that are in operation to-day are located on our streams, viz., the Mill river in Kensington, Belcher brook, west of Golden Ridge, Spruce brook, between Worthington street and East Berlin, and the Mattabessett in Beckley Quarter and in East Berlin. There were, however, formerly a great many factories and shops in Berlin without water privileges. The power was "horse-power" pure and simple. I offer this as a brief description of a horse-power that was in practical, daily operation in many places in Berlin one hundred years ago: A large wheel of, say, thirty feet in diameter, lay flat upon the ground moving around a shaft in the center, that was made fast and stationary. A trough about four feet wide ran all around the rim of the wheel; a horse traveled in this trough,— walked or trotted. As he was tied to a post he could not leave the spot, but as he traveled he kept pushing the trough (and attached wheel) from under him. Now we have the wheel in motion, and to transmit power was only a question of mechanics. Generally the transmission was accomplished by friction. Thin iron plates were fastened under the trough; below the trough, and immediately below the horse, was located an iron pulley with shaft; the face of the pulley was the width of the iron plates, and was in contact with them. The weight of the horse in this trough made this contact close. As the wheel was moved by the horse, the friction turned the pulley; the pulley turned the shaft. To the shaft was fastened another pulley of the proper size, on which ran a belt which turned the machinery in the shops.

Perhaps I cannot better note the early importance of Berlin than to say that Edward Augustus Kendall, Esq., devotes thir-

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teen pages to it in his book of "Travels through the Northern Parts of the United States, in the Years 1807 and 1808," and then, to quote the closing paragraph of his chapter on Berlin:

Berlin has become a place of some notoriety, partly on account of a tin manufactory which has been established here. Its founder was one Patterson, a native of Ireland; and though it soon fell into many hands, it was long confined to Berlin. At present, however, the number of its tin manufacturers is increasing, many having scattered themselves through the towns below, and others having emigrated to the southward. One of those in Berlin employs sixty hands during the summer season. In the winter he removes to Philadelphia for the extension of his trade. The mode in which the wares are disposed of is that of peddling and barter. They are carried inside and outside of small wagons, of a peculiar and uniform construction, on journeys of great length, and are to be met with in all directions. From Philadelphia they cross the Allegheny mountains, and are probably seen on the Mississippi. They go into Canada and vend their wares in Montreal and Quebec.

Dr. Dwight, in his "Travels," after commenting upon the methods used by Berlin manufacturers in disposing of their products, says:

They went with their wares to every part of the United States. I have seen them in 1797 on the peninsula of Cape Cod, and in the neighborhood of Lake Erie, distant from each other more than six hundred miles.

They make their way to Detroit, four hundred miles further—to Canada and Kentucky, and if I mistake not to New Orleans and St Louis.

Some idea of the industries of Berlin street, East Berlin, and Beckley Quarter may be obtained from the following table, which comprises only such as are mentioned in this paper and the list is not yet complete:

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The memory of nearly all of us goes back to the time when the grocery and apothecary store, on the northwest corner of Main street and Berlin station road, was kept by Deacon Alfred North, and where from 1844 to 1886 he was consulted by the town, not only in his capacity of town clerk and treasurer, but as the trusted counselor and good friend of all.

For many years previous to 1844 this stand was occupied by Josiah Edwards, Jr., who was assisted by one and another of his five sons, whose names were Lewis, Edward B., Alfred, Henry, and Elisha.

At this store could be found groceries, dress goods—calico, merino, and silk—violin strings, jew's-harps, jewelry, crockery, drugs and medicines, and a little of almost everything needed for family use those days. Here also seventy years ago "The Hartford Courant" was left for distribution in the neighborhood.

It was said that the father of Mr. Edwards, who lived in the south part of the town, gave him $6,000 with which to start in business, and that the whole amount was lost through the ras-

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cality of his partner. The stairway and north part of the store were added at a later date, and were finished off for a tenement.

The large double house north of the store, now owned by Luther S. Webster, was built in 1828, for two sons of Mr. Edwards —Edward B. and Henry, both of whom were engaged to be married.

One day Henry drove to Hartford for a load of lumber to be used in the new house. On his way home, coming down a steep hill, he was thrown from the wagon in such a way that the wheels passed over his body, and he was killed. He had been an active member of the Second Congregational Sunday School and was remembered as a remarkably fine young man.

The Edwards homestead, which formerly stood near the north side of the store, was moved, about 1862, north of the large house, and is now occupied by Miss Harriet L. Edwards, daughter of Edward B. Edwards.

West of the Edwards house, at a distance of about 150 feet, was a large carriage factory. The business, which was started by Josiah Edwards, was continued by his son, Edward B., who had an extensive trade in the south, especially in Augusta, Ga., and in Wilmington, N. C. The factory was burned in 1844, was rebuilt, and is now the main part of Mr. Damon's tin shop. Lewis Edwards, who learned the trade of book-binding, built the house next north of the old church, now owned by James W. Woodruff, and had a shop in his south yard.

One Sunday noon a workman went into the bindery to wash and dress. On going out he left a cigar stump on a pile of papers which caught fire, and destroyed the building.

An old letter, relating the circumstance, states that when the fire broke out, Priest Goodrich was preaching his afternoon sermon. He saw the flames and "with his knee buckles on," came down the pulpit stairs, with both hands upraised, and exclaimed: "The church is on fire! The bindery was rebuilt, but soon after —about 1834— Mr. Edwards moved to Norwich, Conn., where, with his brother Elisha, he carried on the business for many years. The new shop built by Lewis Edwards was moved onto Hart street and made into a dwelling house for Leonard Pattison.

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In the highway, south of the Edwards store, where the hay scales are now, was once the Town whipping post. The last man whipped there was Charles Stocker, a colored man, who lived on Caesar's Hill, and whose father gave the name to the hill. The crime was petty theft. Mr. William A. Riley remembered seeing him whipped, and he said "How he did holler."

There is a legend that Charles Stocker's feet were so large that he always had to hang them outside of the wagon when he rode, because there was not room enough for them within. This is the man who pumped the organ in the old meeting house for so many years, and received for his services one pair of shoes each year. That both facts are recorded goes to show that the church was very liberal in its appreciation of organ blowing.

In early times this end of the town was known as "Boston Corners." In 1796 Benjamin Galpin was licensed to keep a tavern on the southwest corner, which was then the regular stopping place for post-riders. After the Hartford and New Haven turnpike was completed in 1800, the Boston and New York stages changed horses at this same tavern.

In 1813 Jesse Hart, a cabinet maker, who lived in the brick house on Willard street now owned by Mr. LeClair, purchased the tavern at Boston corners and became its landlord. Mr. Hart was appointed postmaster and the office was kept in his house not only for all of this town but for surrounding places. Until 1825 New Britain people came to Berlin for their letters, weekly newspapers, and express parcels.

Where the hotel shed now stands there was a store, when the place was sold to Mr. Hart. The next year, his son George, who was a sheriff, placed overhead in that store for safe keeping, a lot of household goods that had been attached for debt. At night a fire broke out. A fresh coat of paint had just been put on the building and the flames ran over it like wild-fire. In the morning nothing remained of the store, barns or tavern, but ashes. George Hart, who was the first husband of Mrs. Col. Bulkeley, and the father of Mrs. Harriet Dickinson, died in 1825, at the age of thirty. It was said that he caught his

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death cold going out at midnight to wait for the mail. Jesse Hart rebuilt, but died in 1827 and was succeeded by his son-in-law, Norris Wilcox, who afterwards went to New Haven, where he was appointed United States Marshal and collector of that port.

In 1839 a Portuguese slave trader touched at Cuba and disposed of a cargo of negroes. The planter who bought them wished to take them to a distant port, and forced them, while still in irons, onto another vessel. The blacks under their chief, whose name was Cinque, mutinied and killed all but one of the crew, whose life was saved in order that he might manage the vessel, and he was ordered to steer for Africa. In the daytime he directed his course due east, but when night came and the negroes slept, he turned about and headed for the United States.

In the course of a few months they brought up on the coast of Long Island, and Deputy Norris Wilcox, in whose charge they were placed, locked them in the New Haven jail to await the action of United States courts. They were considered a great curiosity, and people flocked to the sight, as to a circus. Colonel Bulkeley and his wife went down from Berlin to see them. The colonel gave a silver quarter to Cinque, who showed his gratitude by turning a double somersault backwards.

After two or three years of controversy it was decided to take the entire company back to Africa, but meanwhile some benevolent individuals wished to Christianize the heathen brought to their doors, and a car load of them was brought by Norris Wilcox to Berlin station, whence they were taken in sleighs to Farmington. Mr. William Bulkeley remembers, as a child, going to the old depot to see these Africans.

When the Black Prince and his company, who had been placed under bonds for mutiny, reached Farmington, they were housed in barracks that were built for them, near the cemetery. After a spasm of terror at the thought of having a lot of savages—and for aught they knew, cannibals—-at large in their midst, the good people of Farmington, judging from old

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accounts, gave their dark-skinned visitors the freedom of the town.

So kind and faithful did they prove, that mothers trusted them with the care of their little children. Grabbo, Phillie, Fuli, Famie, and Foone, are some of the names remembered by those who knew them. While confined in jail at New Haven, some Divinity School students had labored hard, and with some success, to teach them to read and write.

Again at Farmington, they were sent to school in a room over the present post office. In the village cemetery may be seen a simple marble stone with this inscription:

FOONE A native African who was drowned while bathing in the center Basin Aug 1841. He was one of the Company of Slaves, under Cinque, on board the Schooner Amisted, who asserted their rights and took possession of the vessel, after having put the Captain, Mate, and others to death, sparing their masters Ruez and Montez.

Miss Porter's laundry was afterwards built over the Center Basin. It was thought that Foone committed suicide, as he was very homesick, and the day before had said, "Foone going to see his mother."

The late John T. Norton, whose home is now owned by Mr. Newton Barney, had befriended the negroes, and his son, Charles L. Norton, who remembered the incident, relates that as the family sat on the porch at evening, a dark figure strode up the path, went straight to his father, and said in broken accents, "We—want—you—Grabbo he daid," and sped away, the big tears rolling down his cheeks.

In 1842, the thirty-six survivors were taken back to Mendi, on the west coast of Africa, near Liberia. Teachers and funds were provided and thus the Mendi mission was formed.

In 1834, Bo8well C. Hart followed Norris Wilcox as landlord of the Berlin hotel

In 1842, James B. Whaples purchased the property, and with the help of his efficient wife, and daughters, made it a very

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popular place of resort, especially in winter, for sleighing parties.

The writer has often heard old residents of Southington, New Britain, and Meriden laugh as they recalled the suppers, dances, and good times they had enjoyed at Blinn Whaples' tavern, in Berlin, when they were young. A large sign swung, creaking in the breeze, from a crane extending over the street, from the ridgepole of the horse shed; and below the sign was a well, with a large wooden pump, and a long horse trough. This place was the hay market for the surrounding country, and here also were brought horses for sale and exchange.

The great barns and sheds bear silent witness to the traffic in horses and other business that was carried on at this corner. One large barn that stood on the west side has been torn down

At the time of the Eevolution, one stage left Hartford each Monday morning for Boston, and one for New York. They reached their destination Wednesday night and started to return next morning, arriving at Hartford Saturday evening.

In 1802 a daily stage left Boston at 10 A. M., which reached Hartford at evening of the following day, and noon of the next day it was in New York.

Passengers had to be ready at the regular stopping places along the line, at whatever hour of the day or night the stage might be due. Hartford people had to take it at three o'clock in the morning.

When the time between New York and Philadelphia was reduced from three to two days, the coaches were called "Flying machines."

At the close of the Revolutionary War, the treaty of peace with Great Britain was signed at Versailles, January 20, 1783. The news reached Berlin and Hartford March 23, nine weeks later, by way of Philadelphia. After 1831 there were two stages each way and the horses were changed at Berlin. When nearing the town, the driver of the stage sounded his bugle as

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a warning to the landlord not to keep his hungry passengers waiting for dinner. As the coach, crowded inside with travelers, its top piled high with trunks, drawn by four horses, rolled through the village, everybody in the houses ran to the windows, and it is said that the wife of Dr. Hand used to stand in her front doorway and make courtesies to the passengers.

The property next south of the hotel was owned by Joseph Booth, who built the front part of the house in 1800. The large ell was added later. In the corner of the lot, on the north side of the house, Mr. Booth had a shop for making hats. These hats were made of wool or skins. The boys of the neighborhood earned many an honest dollar by catching mink and muskrats and selling the skins to Mr. Booth, to be worked up into hats. The old gentleman was very deaf and always carried an ear trumpet. He was a good trader and invariably understood the price at about half that mentioned by the boys, and then would never settle on any basis except according to hearing.

Just north of Mr. Booth's hat factory was a small building occupied by Alfred Wood for the manufacture of spectacles and jewelry.

In 1844 Deacon Alfred North leased and joined the hat and spectacle factories and started business in them as a country merchant. A few months later he moved to the old store on the corner previously mentioned and these buildings were used for making cigars.

On August 1, 1800, George Hubbard, who built the house now the home of the Misses Churchill, deeded for the consideration of $82.50 a piece of land to "The Worthington Academy Company" and their heirs, bounded as follows: "West on country road, north on Daniel Galpin's land, easterly and southerly on land of George Hubbard Grantor." The deed was made to Amos Horsford, Roger Riley, Giles Curtis, Samuel Porter, Jesse Peck, Joseph Galpin, and their associates—"the Academy Company," who proceeded to build on this ground opposite the tavern, Berlin's first academy.

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For some reason, the project was not sustained, and the property was sold to James Guernsey, who had a harness and saddler's shop on the premises. The south upper floor, which was still used for private schools, singing schools, and other public meetings, was known as Guernsey's Hall. George Dunham and Caroline Guernsey are names recalled of teachers who had private schools in this hall. About 1831, Mr. Guernsey sold out to Lysis Lamb, who added to the north side of the house a large shop, where he made tin ware, and gave employment to a number of men.

Mr. Lamb was succeeded by James B. Carpenter, who remodeled the house. The shop was moved up on the hill north of the Lyman Nott place and is now the main part of George Austin's dwelling house.

Following south, the next place was owned for many years by Dr. Horatio Gridley, who was a skillful physician. Dr. Gridley's next door neighbor on the south was Daniel Dunbar, Esq., who practised law in. Berlin from 1804 to 1841. His office stood in the north front corner of the yard.

The Dunbar place, now owned by Mrs. Harriet Hopkins, was occupied in 1848 by one McCartney, who enlarged the office for a grocery store and liquor saloon. The town at this time was tremendously excited over the temperance campaign, and the influence of this saloon was considered particularly bad. The wholesale liquor dealers of Hartford sympathized with their patrons and urged them on to deeds of violence. It was then no uncommon sight to see drunken men reeling on the streets, and women who ventured from home after dark, without protection, were subject to insult. One officer, who had attempted to do his duty, found his cow poisoned, and another good citizen after attending an evening meeting discovered that his harness had been cut into small pieces. Acts of villainy far exceeding these will be described later.

The addition built by McCartney was moved onto Willard street by John Graham, who used it as a wood-turning shop, operated by a wheel in the cellar run by horse power. Later it was made into a dwelling house and is still used as a residence.

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The Old Worthington Academy in 1916.
(Built in 1833.)

Squire Dunbar's office, after his death in 1841, was put to various uses, before it was taken for McCartney's barroom. Colonel Bulkeley made it his office when he was town clerk, and the Millerites held their meetings there while they were preparing to ascend the skies. At last it was moved and attached to the rear of Mrs. Hopkins' house, where it still remains.

A new generation having arisen since the first academy was abandoned, a second joint stock company was formed under the name of "The Worthington Academical Company." The first annual meeting of the company was called at six o'clock, February 7, 1831, at "Woodbridge's Hotell," and officers were appointed as follows:

Elishama Brandegee, jr., Daniel Dunbar, Horatio Gridley, Josiah Edwards, Allen Beckley, William Savage, Joseph Booth, jr., James Guernsey, Reuben North.

Art. 7th. When the sum of 700 dollars shall be raised, the Directors are authorized to purchase of Mrs. Almira Barnes & her children a convenient plot of ground, on the corner of their lot, a little south of the dwelling House of Jacob Booth, and forthwith to erect a Building thereon for an Academy, the lower room to be occupied for an academy school & the Upper Room for Religious Conferences, Lectures & Singing schools & for Public Exhibitions of the Academy, also for Society meetings, school society meetings, & a Library room when necessary.

Art. 8th. And provided the Presbyterian Church in Worthington will subscribe the sum of 125 dollars to be applied toward finishing the Upper Room, arching it and finishing the stairways, said room shall be subject to their use and control so long as they continue to keep it in repair.

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The land was purchased from the widow of Blakeslee Barnes for $250.00. Three hundred and eleven shares of stock were taken by residents of the town at $5.00 per share, and the work of building was started at once.

In 1835, the school had become so popular that to accommodate its pupils, numbering between one and two hundred, the entire building was required, and the Academy Company bought out the rights of the Ecclesiastical Society, who built a chapel directly across the street. This chapel, a one-story unpainted building, was also used for singing schools and lectures.

Next south of the chapel was a fine old colonial house, known as the Joseph Galpin place. It was noted for the beauty of its front entrance, with a double door, the frame ornamented by carvings.

In 1856, the Rev. Asahel C. Washburn, who came here from Suffield, tore down the Galpin house to make room for his modern home. At the same time he bought the chapel with the land on which it stood and moved the building back and attached it to his barns.

In the rear of his barns, Mr. Washburn ran a steam gristmill and a large sign over the street entrance announced the business carried on. The place was sold to Deacon Increase Clapp, who moved to California in 1876. Shortly before this time the house, while occupied by a tenant, was burned.

The large house next south of the Joseph Galpin place, which is now owned by Marcus E. Jacobs, was built by Blakeslee Barnes, who carried on business as a tinner in a shop situated in his yard. Mr. Barnes died in 1823 and after some years Captain Norman Peck purchased the property. The shop was moved down onto the triangle made by the division of the roads on the way to the station from Berlin street, and was called Captain Peck's farmhouse. About this time Captain Peck was in need of a man to work on his place. He went to New York and returned with an Irishman—the only one

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The Second Congregational Church of Berlin.
(The clock was presented to the church by Catherine M. North in memory of her father.)

employed at that time in Berlin. Mrs. Emily Galpin Bacon, now eighty-eight years old, born in the house opposite the academy, remembers that when she was a child she used to see a Patrick McGuire at work on that same Captain Peck place when it was occupied by the Barnes family. Patrick had a daughter, who grew up to be a stylish young woman. She had a talent for drawing, which she taught in classes in Hartford.

Deacon Alfred North remembered when there was only one Irishman in the whole town and he lived in New Britain.

One day a son of Erin, who had taken up his abode in Berlin, presented himself before the registrars to be made a voter. In order to show that he could read, he carried his prayerbook and, as he was reading along glibly, the town clerk, whose suspicion was aroused, stepped back of him and saw that the book was upside down.

Hyram Mygatt, who was an ornamental carriage painter, married Anna Booth, daughter of Joseph Booth. They lived in a large, pleasant house directly opposite the new Congregational church. Mr. Mygatt had a shop at the back of the premises where tin was japanned and baked. When Mr. Mygatt died, in 1831, James Guernsey came to this place from the north end of the village. The harness shop built by Mr. Guernsey in the old academy yard was quite a traveler. It was moved west of the hotel, then to the northeast corner of the yard where the new Congregational church now stands, then across south of the Mygatt house, where it was used by Mr. Guernsey for the making and repair of harnesses and saddles until he gave up business when it was taken down to Hart street and made into a dwelling house. Finally, one Fourth of July, some boys celebrating set it on fire and it was destroyed.

Helen Guernsey had a shop in her father's house for millinery and dressmaking.

James Guernsey, Jr., the only son of Mr. Guernsey, went to California with a number of his acquaintances, in search of gold, and there went through the experience common to those days. When the time came for him to return, instead of going around the Horn, he crossed the Isthmus, in the sum-

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mer of 1852, caught the Panama fever, and died in one week after reaching home. The event caused much excitement in the neighborhood and one man ran through the street crying at the top of his voice, "James Guernsey is dead, James Guernsey is dead." He was heard plainly as far as Colonel Bulkeley's.

Following Mr. Guernsey, the place was occupied a number of years by Norman Porter, Jr., who, in 1863, moved to San Jose, Cal.; then by the family of Ansel Talcott, and lastly by S. C. Twitchell. One night, in the fall of 1876, the house caught fire from a defective flue and was burned to the ground with most of its contents.

The two houses standing next south of the new academy were built by Elishama Brandegee, the father of Dr. Elishama Brandegee. The one nearest the academy, long the home of Dr. Brandegee and his family, was designed for the teacher and was occupied by Ariel Parish. The other, now the parsonage of the Second Congregational Church, strange to relate, was built to be used as a parsonage by the Rev. James McDonald, who was settled here 1835-1837.

The name and reputation of Dr. Brandegee, the trusted and beloved physician of nearly every family in town, is too well known to need any extended notice.

The place next north of the new Congregational church was owned by Capt. Nathaniel Cornwell, who carried on business as a tailor, in a shop attached to the south side of his house. The property was purchased by the Rev. Joseph Whittlesey, pastor of the Second Congregational Church, 1838-1841, who, after resigning his charge conducted a school in his home.

Close to the street, on the lot where the church now stands, was the home of Deacon Daniel Galpin, and over by the south fence was the shop where he made wooden pumps and ox-yokes. His daughters, Hetty and Mary, to whose memory Mrs. Dodd has paid graceful tribute, had a school in the north front chamber of the house. Deacon Galpin was a Revolutionary soldier and he had also the honor of being the first red-hot abolitionist in the town of Berlin.. He died in 1844, aged eighty-eight. In 1850, this Galpin place was taken as the site

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Elishama Brandegee M. D.
(From a painting by Robert Bolling Brandegee.)

of the new church and the old house was moved by John L. Dowd, around south of the residence of the late W. A. Riley. It is now owned by Mrs. William Pierce. If you care to see Deacon Galpin's front door step, go down the walk south of the church to the eastern entrance, leading to the basement.

Phineas Squires, the maternal grandfather of William A. Riley, was a man of wealth and prominence. He built or remodeled the house next south of Daniel Galpin's, now owned by Miss Julia Hovey.

The property was purchased by the Rev. Samuel Goodrich, who was the third pastor of the Second Congregational Church, 1811-1833. He was the father of a distinguished family.

His son, the Rev. Charles A. Goodrich, was the author of a History of the United States that was used many years as a text book in the schools of the country.

Another son, Samuel G. Goodrich, known as "Peter Parley," edited a magazine and wrote many tales for young people.

He also wrote a "Child's History of the Western Hemisphere" which, with its pictures, was a delight to the children in our schools fifty years ago.

Mr. Goodrich was ably assisted in his work by Hawthorne. A daughter, Mrs. Abigail Goodrich Whittlesey, edited "The Mothers' Magazine," so highly prized by the families of her generation.

The Rev. Charles A. Goodrich, who was a public-spirited citizen, continued to live on his father's place until 1847, when he removed to Hartford, where he died in 1862. Mr. Goodrich had a comfortable study in his south yard where he could be quiet while working on his books. That building is now attached to the rear of Mrs. William A. Riley's house.

The Rev. Samuel Goodrich, who found the Worthington church in a very low condition, was deeply loved and reverenced by his people. The children thought, as one who remembers him expressed it, that he was a "Jesus Christ man" and that he came straight from God. When this lady was an infant she was very ill, and Mr. Goodrich was called to pray for her. She recovered, and as he watched the child growing up to

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womanhood, he would lay his hand on her head and say, "Spared monument."

The attractive colonial house situated opposite the Goodrich place was built by Priest Nathan Fenn, who was the first minister settled over Worthington parish. He was ordained 1780 and died 1799. The inscription on his tombstone reads as follows:

In his pastoral office he was faithful; in the duties of piety constant; in every relation kind and affectionate; and to all men hospitable and benevolent.

Jesse Eddy, who succeeded Mr. Fenn as owner of the property, had a large tin shop that stretched across the south yard, where many men were employed.

This shop was burned and rebuilt. Mr. Eddy was assisted in his business by his sons, George and Frederic.

One Sunday, a warm day in summer, George went with a companion to East Berlin and went in bathing at the factory pond. The water was unusually high, after a heavy rain, and George was drawn by an undercurrent over the dam and was drowned. Fifty men turned out to search for his body but it was not until after the water subsided that it was found caught in a tree.

Mr. James B. Carpenter purchased the Eddy shop and moved it down west of Deacon Worth's store, where it forms the residence part of Mr. Damon's place.

Nathaniel James married the daughter of Jesse Eddy, and, after that, the family used the house as a summer residence only, while their winters were spent in New York City.

Afterwards, the Rev. Seth Bliss owned the property for several years. It is now the residence of Charles S. Webster.

The house next south of the Eddy place was once the home of Dr. Austin, and in 1823 the noted singing teacher, Elam Ives, with his wife, boarded with the family. Timothy Butler who lived in the next house, was a great hunter and a lover of dogs.

One Sunday, about 1847, he, with Peleg Chapman, went over on the West Mountain in search of a fox. Mr. Butler's dog had

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run the animal to his den under a large rock, and was digging the earth away with all his might, when Chapman crawled under to help him. Suddenly he cried out, "Call off your dog, Tim, the rock is falling." It was too late for dog or man, and Chapman was crushed to death. Word was brought to the village at noon and every able-bodied man and boy rode or walked to Kensington to help lift the rock. The women and children who made up the audience in the old church that afternoon never forgot the solemn sermon preached by Mr. Woodworth.

The Universalist church that formerly stood on the site now occupied by the hall of the Order of United Mechanics was a well proportioned building, with long windows and a cupola, similar to that on the Academy.

It was built in 1831, and when the society disbanded, it was purchased by the Methodists, who in turn disbanded and sold the building to the Mechanics.

The house just south of this property was the home, until 1848, of Dr. Sylvester Bulkeley, the father of Mrs. John Brandegee.

Afterwards, the place was occupied by Mrs. Justus Bulkeley, "Aunt Ruth" as she was generally called, and her family of bright, pleasant daughters.

Francis Chambers, Esq., assistant clerk for many years of the Supreme Court of Hartford county, had an office here, and took for his wife, Mrs. Bulkeley's daughter Mary.

Back of the Bulkeley house was a famous mulberry grove. Adjoining the Bulkeley place were extensive sheds and barns used by John H. Webber, Jr., as a livery stable, and as a starting place for stage and 'bus for Berlin depot.

At noon of Easter Sunday, 1896, a dense cloud of smoke was seen rolling up the lane way north of the Universalist church. A barn at the rear owned by Mr. Riley had been set on fire— it was supposed by boys smoking cigarettes.

The church bell rang frantically. Everybody seized a water pail and rushed to the scene, but the flames only laughed at their feeble efforts and ran on to devour, not only all the buildings at the Bulkeley place and the Warrens' barn, but the

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good church edifice, and the whole village seemed doomed to destruction, when an engine driven at breakneck speed arrived from New Britain.

Across the street from the Universalist church was the original Riley homestead, occupied by Roger Riley, Esq., who, after acting as Justice of the Peace for many years, was in 1798 elected town clerk. With the exception of one year, he held the office until 1816. He was universally respected and was the man of his time to whom everybody went for advice. He was a saddler by trade, making use of the West Indies as his market. His shop was north of his house and the leather for his saddles was tanned in a vat at the rear of the Universalist church.

His dwelling house, which stood within about three feet of the sidewalk, was also a hotel with a ballroom. The barns and sheds were on the east side of the street. It is said that General Washington stopped at this place and patted the heads of his twin boys, Moses and Aaron. Moses was the father of the late William A. Riley.

The shop was afterwards used by a milliner, and as a shoemaker's shop by Joseph Savage.

The Rileys owned large tracts of land on both sides of the road, and their front yard extended south nearly to the corner. There is a well near the corner, which was used in connection with a cider mill in operation at that point. The well of the old Riley house is in the cellar of the house now owned by Mrs. William Pierce. According to the grand list of 1790, Roger Riley was then the wealthiest man in Worthington parish; his taxable property was rated at $425.44. Roger Riley, Esq., was a superior penman, and it is a pleasure to-day, after the test of a hundred years, to read the Town records, written in his firm, round hand. Mr. Riley died in 1822, at the age of eighty-five, forty-six years after the Declaration of Independence, when he showed his patriotism by enlisting in the War of the Revolution.

Miss Abby Pattison remembered seeing him, in his last years as he stood in his front door way, "A little old man."

After the death of Squire Riley, the premises were rented, until the house became so rickety that no families except those

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objectionable to the neighbors, would live in it. Finally, at a time when it was vacant, the boys of the village decided to take its destiny into their own hands. Night after night they assembled, with axes and saws, and worked away inside at the timbers, until all were severed from the foundation.

One of their number, now a law-abiding and highly respected citizen of the town, stood sentinel outside, to give alarm by a whistle, whenever he heard footsteps approaching.

When all was in readiness, ropes were attached, and with a long pull, and a strong pull, the old house, whose walls might have told many an interesting tale of colonial days, was laid a wreck on the ground.

On the corner, south of the Riley property, Frederic Hinsdale put up a large building, which he used as a bookstore and a bookbindery. A Bible bought at this place in 1824, by Alfred North, then a lad, is still among the attic treasures of his family.

Mr. Hinsdale died in 1831, at the age of thirty-six. He left an interesting family of children, whose names were, Frederic, Hezekiah, Sarah, Susan, and Julia. They lived in the brick house now owned by Leon LeClair. Jesse Hart, before assuming the position of landlord, at "Boston Corners," in 1813, lived at this place, and here conducted his business as cabinet maker. He made coffins for $2.50 each, as shown by the old town records.

At the store, after Mr. Hinsdale, came William and George Loveland, who carried a stock of general merchandise. The Loveland brothers were succeeded by Cowles & Durand, who afterwards went to Kensington, and kept a store near the old depot, where they failed in 1846.

At the corner here, Cowles & Durand were followed by Isaac Dobson, who made tin ware. Mr. Dobson also lived in the brick house and, like Mr. Hinsdale, died young —1847, age forty-three. He had two sons and four pretty daughters: Francis, Joseph, Sarah, Julia, Caroline, and Minerva.

Consumption made sad havoc among the young people of those days. Among its victims were all the children of Frederick Hinsdale, except Sarah, who was the wife of Jacob

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Brandegee, and all the Dobsons but Francis, who, at last accounts, was living in Boston.

In 1848 John Graham took possession of the property on the corner, and carried on an extensive business, making carriages and wagons. At the time of his death, in 1855, Mr. Graham employed thirty men, and was turning off wagons at the rate of one a day. They were drawn in long strings to Middletown in summer, and to New Haven in winter, to be shipped south by water. Mr. Graham's account books show that some of his largest customers were the following: J. P. Stow & Co., Catawba, Ala.; G. Taylor & Brother, Kensington, N. C.; Robertson & Pettibone, Spata, Ala.; Wood & Sage, Cross Roads, Jackson County, Miss.; J. Delooche, Macon, Ga.; Wymans & Damon, Augusta, Ga.; J. B. Jacques, North Carolina; also parties in Arkansas and Louisiana.

The running part of a wagon made by John Graham soon after he came to the village, is still in daily use by Albert Pollard, and the wheels, with not a rattling spoke, seem good for another fifty years.

Linus Cornwell succeeded Mr. Graham in the carriage-making business, and later, while occupied as a grocery, the building was burned.

Captain John "Hinsdil" lived near this corner and had a blacksmith shop in his dooryard. He died in 1793, aged eighty-six. His daughter, Lydia, was the mother of Mrs. Willard and Mrs. Phelps.

Near the crosswalk, at the parting of the ways, as Willard street joins Worthington street, may be seen a little triangle. At this point, under the gravel, is a large flat stone and below the stone is a well, a hundred feet deep. Sixty years ago, over this well was a wooden platform, about ten feet square. From the platform, to the water, extended a log of wood, through which a hole was bored to admit a plunger, which was worked by a wooden handle, six or eight feet in length.

This was a town pump, free to all, where the weary traveler could slake his thirst without trespassing on private property.

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When this pump was in working order woe to the unlucky urchin who offended his playfellows. A sousing of his head brought him quickly to repentance.

The Captain Peck farmhouse was once painted blue, and was known as the "Blue house." The burying ground, west of the house, received the name of "Blue house cemetery," and the bridge over the stream, on the north side, was called "Blue house bridge."

I am unable to lay my hand on the statement at this time, but I have read, somewhere, that Priest Nathan Perm was a chaplain in the Revolutionary War.

The name of the man who was crushed by the rock on West mountain was Lafayette Chapman. Peleg Chapman was his father. They lived in a little one-story house, in the south district, on the corner, southwest of William Luby's, now vacant, where the old country road turns west, on to the Kensington .four-rod highway. Mr. Chapman had nineteen children. His son George was an obstinate "Chap" and was often whipped terribly by the teachers in the south school, but he did not appear to mind his punishment in the least.

The reference to the Universalist church reminded me of an incident connected with the raising of the building. It was on one Priday afternoon, when the Congregationalists had their preparatory lecture in the old meeting house. The frame of the new church was about ready to go up, when some one said, "Let's wait until the d d blue skins come along," and so they waited. At the right moment they put forth a mighty effort, but not an inch would the timbers budge, until the "blue skins" were out of sight.

On the east side of the street, opposite the town pump, at what is known as the Albert Warren place, Asahel Hart, a

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brother of Jesse Hart, had a tailor shop. He died in 1821, aged fifty-seven years. His son, Freedom Hart, inherited the homestead, and used the tailor shop for the manufacture of combs.

A man who once owned this property took offence at his neighbor, who lived in the Dr. Bulkeley house, and to spite him, he moved the shop from the south yard, around on the north side, close to the division line, so as to shut off all the sunlight from this neighbor.

When Mr. Hart gave up his business, the shop was changed into a tenement, and later was moved to the hill north of the Eben Woodruff house. Its site is now occupied by the Berlin Free Library.

Within the memory of the writer, the children of the village were allowed to romp in Mr. Warren's attic, where were stored quantities of old bone combs, made by Freedom Hart, like those that encircled the heads of our grandmothers, and towered high above their hair.

Sixty years ago there was a little shop south of the Freedom Hart house, where the Loveland brothers made foot-stoves—an industry that has now passed out of existence.

The little iron pan, within its frame of tin and wood, was filled with hard walnut coals, and covered with ashes, which held their heat a long time, and the stove was a great comfort on Sunday, as passed along, from one to another, in the pews of the fireless meeting-house.

From the time as far back as the memory of the oldest living person goes, a prosperous store has been conducted at the stand south of the Freedom Hart place, which for many years has borne the sign of Henry N". Galpin.

Names obtained of those who have been at the head of the business here are as follows: Orrin Beckley, about 1810; Samuel Porter (died 1838, aged eighty-eight) ; Horace Steele & Dr. David Carpenter; Plumb & Deming, 1835; Benjamin Wilcox; S. C. Wilcox; Galpin & Loveland; Henry N. Galpin; Strickland Bros., and lastly E. E. Honiss. This store formerly carried a line of everything that the community might need,

195 including drugs. Physicians' prescriptions were compounded here until, by mutual ag

reement, H. N. Galpin surrendered his drug department to Alfred North, who, in exchange, gave up the sale of his drygoods to Mr. Galpin.

It is worthy of note that in all the years that Mr. Galpin and Deacon North were fellow merchants, there was never the least rivalry or unpleasant feeling between them.

Mr. Galpin was a public-spirited citizen, ready at all times to respond liberally to every good cause. He was also a man of sterling integrity, as one, who knew him well, said, she would not fear to trust him with the last cent she owned.

In the store long known as that of Henry N. Galpin, Samuel C. Wilcox, who preceded Mr. Galpin, conducted business, in connection with a store in Wilmington, N. C., and goods were peddled through the south by teams. Communication between the two points was by sailing vessels, from New Haven to Wilmington.

The list, in succession, of Berlin's postmasters, so far as known, is as follows: Samuel Porter, died 1818; Jesse Hart, died 1827; Norris Wilcox, removed to New Haven; James M. Plumb, removed to New York; Edward Wilcox; Jacob S. Brandegee; Edward Wilcox; Henry N. Galpin; Sherlock C. Hall; Walter D. Atwater; Henry N. Galpin; Henry L. Porter; Albert B. Goodrich; Seth D. Strickland; Henry L. Porter.

Samuel Porter, who heads the list, was one of the early occupants of the Galpin store, and, for the greater part of a hundred years, the post office was kept in this same place. Samuel C. Wilcox has said that, as a boy, it was his duty to wait for the eleven o'clock night stage, to receive and to transfer the mail bags. In order to be awake, he sat on the stoop, where he would be aroused by the toot of the horn, which was always blown as the stage rattled down the hill by the south cemetery. Later he took the bag in at his bedroom window.

At first, the mail was carried in a two-horse, homely, black, gypsy-like wagon. A quick exchange of horses was effected at the various posts, and no passengers were allowed to ride

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with the mail. The mail express was carried on horseback. Without stopping, the messenger would leap from his jaded horse to one freshly saddled, and was away, like the wind, to the next station.

Between New Haven and Hartford, the regular places for exchanging horses were Wallingford, Meriden, Berlin, and Newington.

The Hartford and New Haven railroad received its charter in 1835, and in 1838 was completed from New Haven to Meriden. In 1839, trains were running to Hartford. In 1844, the road had been extended to Springfield, but it was not until 1848 that it was possible for Berlin people to go to New York by railroad. As late as 1842, daily mail stages passed through Worthington street on their way between Hartford and New Haven. And then the glory of the old tavern, which it had enjoyed for nearly seventy years, departed.

J. B. Whaples was the first mail carrier from Berlin depot, after the railroad was completed. At ten o'clock at night he would deliver the mail bag to the postmaster, who slept with it until morning.

Thus far there has been no mention of a fire that occurred once on "Galpin corner." One day Mr. William Bulkeley was at work with his horse, on the ledge, when looking toward the village, he saw a little blaze coming out from the back of Mr. Galpin's barn. He quickly unhitched his horse, mounted its back, and started full tilt for the street, yelling "Fire."

When he reached the store he jumped into another man's wagon, and drove down to the hotel for some ancient fire hooks that were then kept there under the horse shed. Mr. Galpin's barn was connected with the store by a long open building.

The hooks were attached to this building, in order to tear it away, but the ropes were so tender with age, that they broke, and the hooks were useless. The flames spread until the store was destroyed, and the ell of the house, then occupied by Samuel C. Wilcox, caught fire. The men, in their determination to save as much as possible, tore off the doors of the house, took out all the windows, removed the stairway balustrade,

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pulled out the posts of the veranda, and even tried to tear away the mantels.

Of course, the dwelling was not habitable in that condition, and arrangements were made for the family to go at once to the Major Curtis house, which stood on what is now the front lawn of Major Frank L. Wilcox, and was occupied then by Noah C. Smith and his family.

Mrs. Samuel C. Wilcox was a very nice housekeeper and was very sensitive, withal. She was deeply mortified, as she went out on the street, and discovered her furniture, the contents of her closets, the family wearing apparel, and all the rest of her belongings, strewn from the starting place along the banks the entire distance to the Curtis house.

It is difficult, at this late day, to get dates, but a witness of this fire remembers that it was in the fall after Fort Sumter was fired upon.

Mr. Galpin replaced the old frame store building by one of brick, which was extended a few feet north of the old line.

The property opposite Galpin's store, now the home of the Misses Julia, Sarah, and Hattie Roys, daughters of the late Franklin Roys, was long known as the Elijah Loveland place. The house was once used by Mr. Loveland as a hotel. According to George H. Sage, whose history of the "Inns of Berlin" was published in the Berlin News of May 30, 1895, Mr. Loveland received his taverner's license in 1797, and discontinued the business in 1812. There was a large addition on the north side of the house, with a ballroom on the second floor, which was often a scene of festivity.

When Priest Goodrich was here, there was a revival in his church. It was before the chapel was built, and the extra meetings were held in Loveland's ballroom. One cold night, when the place was crowded, the air became so close that suddenly every tallow candle went out, and all was in darkness. Mr. Goodrich, who feared that the people would attempt to

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go down the stairs and be injured, said in a commanding voice: "Keep still!" "Everybody keep still!" The people obeyed him and remained quietly in their seats until fresh air was admitted and the candles were again lighted.

Elijah Loveland died in 1826, at the age of eighty-one. His son George, who inherited the homestead, had five sons and three daughters: William, George, Elijah, John, Henry, Sarah, Lois, and Maria. Henry, who remained at home, remodeled the old house and tore down the north part, that in later days had been used as a tenement.

Mrs. C. B. Root, a tailoress, had for a time a shop in the lower rooms. The ballroom was used in the fifties by the Misses Pease and Stone, as a millinery and dressmaking establishment.

The bar of the tavern was in the south front room and the money was kept in a corner cupboard in the next room back. When this cupboard was removed, Mr. Loveland found beneath it handfuls of sixpences and ninepences, that had slipped through the cracks.

East from Mr. Galpin's, halfway down the hill, on the north side, was once a building, used for private schools, for religious meetings by the Methodists, and by the Universalists, and for other purposes.

At the foot of the hill, on the south side, on the spot where Mr. Shumway's greenhouse now stands, the Booths had a tannery, during the first half of the last century. There were eight or ten vats inside and outside the building. Water was conducted into the vats from a spring in the lot now owned by Mr. Gwatkins. The tan bark was ground by horse power. The boys used to think it great fun to sit over the big wheel and drive the horse, to keep him going. Cowhides and calfskins were tanned in the vats, to be made into boots and shoes. Men's jackets and breeches were also made from the leather. The inventory of Daniel Wilcox of East Berlin, who died in 1789, has in the list, "Best leather breeches," "Second best leather breeches."

Mr. Bulkeley remembers seeing cowhides strung on the fences, both sides of the road, from his father's, all the way to the

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footbridge over the stream, in the valley below. The Booths also did considerable business in wool pulling. Mr. Booth would go to the surrounding places where sheep were killed, and bring home the pelts, by the wagon load. The skins were placed in vats with lime until the wool was loosened. Then they were spread on slanting boards and stripped by hand. The skins were packed still wet into hogsheads and sent away to be used for book covers and bindings.

In later years, Almeron Bacon used the old tannery building for a marble- and granite-cutting yard. Mr. Bacon did off a part of the building for a tenament. In the lot southeast of the tannery was a distillery.

The barn in the field across the way, that was burned in the fire of 1895, was built of timbers from the old Roger Riley house, and was used as a slaughter, conducted by Robert McCrum and George Patterson.

Going east from the tannery, on the crest of the hill, at the left hand, stands a factory bearing the name of "Justus and William Bulkeley," who in 1823 started here in the business of making tinners' tools. Horse power was used at first and ten men were employed. The tools were forged in this shop, and then were taken to what is known as Risley's saw mill, to be ground and polished.

Justus Bulkeley, who lived in the house east of the shop, died in 1844. His brother William continued the business and, in 1850, put an engine into the factory.

Colonel Bulkeley purchased his place in 1823 of Blakeslee Barnes, or of his estate. At that time the shop, and the house which is a part of that now occupied by the Rev. E. E. Nourse, stood on the south side of the road, between the Bulkeley house and barn, and had been used by Mr. Barnes for the manufacture of tinware. Mr. Bulkeley was a genial man, full of fun, and

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a good neighbor—one of the kind who would go out of his way to do a favor. In his day, whenever there was an auction in town, Colonel Bulkeley was called upon to conduct the sale. By his ready wit he made much fun for the people, as he led up to the final "Going, going, gone."

The Sixth Connecticut Regiment was organized in 1739. Mr. Bulkeley was colonel of that regiment, 1834-1836, and thus received his title. Colonel Bulkeley died in 1878, aged eighty-one.

The Justus Bulkeley place was bought by Deacon Joseph Savage, who died there in 1857, aged sixty-three.

Deacon Savage was remembered for his pleasant disposition, and for his sweet tenor voice, with which he led the singing in the evening meetings. He used to start the tunes by aid of a long pitch pipe, and later he would hum the scale up and down to get the right key.

The row of beautiful maple trees along the north side of the street in front of his property, was planted by Deacon Savage.

Mr. Noah Smith, who occupied the place in his later years, also planted many trees and vines on the premises.

The large trees in front of the Bulkeley house, and down the hills toward the village, were planted by Colonel Bulkeley.

At the beginning of the last century, when Elijah Loveland was keeping tavern, his next door neighbor, on the south, was John Dunham, a tinner, who carried on his business in a shop standing in his north yard.

The Dunham house was burned. It was said that in her fright at the time of the fire, Mrs. Dunham shut herself into a closet. Her daughter Maria, who seized a heavy table and carried it across the street, remained, in consequence, an invalid all her life. The house was rebuilt and later was owned by Timothy Boardman, a skillful tailor, who employed, as apprentices, a number of young men and women.

Mr. Boardman, who was an excellent citizen, removed to Middletown in 1856. His shop, which stood on the north side of his premises, close to the Loveland line, is now a part of the house of W. H. Shumway, the florist, situated at the foot

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of the hill going toward Colonel Bulkeley's. In 1864 the Rev. Daniel Francis, who succeeded Mr. Boardman, sold the property to Mr. Josiah Robbins of Wethersfield, and it is still occupied by his daughter, Miss Frances C. Robbins.

"Jacob Brandigee," the progenitor of all the Brandegee family in Connecticut, was born at Nine Partners, N. Y. At the age of thirteen he came to Newington.

The Newington records state that "Jacob Brandigat" married October 11, 1753, Abigail Dunham. The family bible says he was twenty-two and Abigail sixteen when married. Jacob Brandegee owned the covenant at New Britain, July 27, 1755. He was a weaver by trade. He was also engaged in the West India trade and sent out vessels from Rocky Hill.

In 1762 he bought a tract of land at Christian Lane, in "Great Swamp," as all this section was called for twenty years after the first white settlers came. There was a house already on the land, and Mr. Brandegee set up a store, first near the home of the late Moses Gilbert, and afterwards opposite the Norman Porter house.

He died at sea, on his passage from Guadaloupe to Connecticut, March, 1765, aged thirty-six, as recorded on the tombstone erected to his memory in the South Cemetery in Worthington. We are told that a stone was erected to his memory in the Christian Lane burying ground, where some of his children were buried. All the Brandegee stones were afterward removed to the family yard in Berlin Street.

Jacob Brandegee's monument, now in the "Maple Cemetery," the name under which the south burying ground was incorporated April 3, 1903, was placed there in 1834, by his grandson Jacob. His son Jacob died at Cape Francois, January, 1786, aged twenty-one years.

Jacob Brandegee's widow, Abigail (Dunham), married, second, Rev. Edward Eells of Upper Houses, Middletown. She died January 25, 1825, at the age of eighty-six, and was buried in Cromwell, but her inscription was cut with that of her first husband on the monument in Maple Cemetery, Berlin.

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Jacob Brandegee had at Rocky Hill a little negro boy from Guinea, whom he had picked up on one of his voyages. Quam, as he was called, became very homesick. He said he wanted to see his mother, and begged to go back to Guinea. The Rocky Hill boys laughed at him. There was a keg of powder in the attic of the house, and one day the boys told Quam that if he would go up and sit on that keg and strike fire, he would go to Guinea, and would see his mother. Soon afterward Quam was missed.

Mrs. Brandegee,—remember she was only a slip of a girl, just past sixteen—went up the attic stairs, and there sat the boy, as directed, in the act of striking a flint. Mrs. Brandegee ran for her life and escaped, but poor Quam!

The roof of the house was blown off, and the child's mangled body was found in the garden. It was buried there where it had fallen. When the Connecticut Valley railroad was built in 1871 it passed through this garden, and the workmen cast out, with their shovels, the skeleton of Quam.

Elishama Brandegee, ST., the oldest of the six children of Jacob, was born in 1754. He married Widow Lucy (Plumb) Weston in 1778, and came over to Worthington Street, where he settled on the property known as the "Mulberry Orchard" south of the John Dunham place. He also acquired considerable land on the opposite side of the way.

The Middletown and Berlin turnpike road, which was opened in 1810, passed down the eastern hillside, south of the Galpin place, through land owned by the Brandegee family.

Elishama Brandegee was a Revolutionary soldier. Afterward he followed the calling of his father, and sailed the seas as a merchant. His business was chiefly with the West Indies. He managed his own vessels and was always known as "Captain Brandegee." He died in 1832. The house in which he lived, situated on the west side of the street near the south boundary of his premises, is barely recalled by our oldest residents. A tall evergreen tree, recently removed, stood in the front yard and was for many years a landmark.

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Among the historical articles exhibited by Mrs. B. M. Gris-wold at the Berlin Fair of September, 1905, was a set of liquor bottles from the brig Minerva,, which sailed from the river ports of Connecticut to Spain and the West Indies, previous to 1775.

During the time when our country was weakened from its struggle for freedom, French privateers captured many American vessels, one of which was the Minerva, owned in part by Capt. Elishama Brandegee.

In the days when the generation now come to the front was filled with youth and enthusiasm, whenever funds were needed for an extra church expense, or for unusual charitable objects, a festival, with tableaux and charades, was in order. In 1871, a carpet that had borne the impress of the feet of many a saint in its time of service, on the floor of the Congregational church, since its dedication, was in tatters. The young people of the society volunteered to raise money for a new carpet, and gave a well-planned and popular entertainment in the old town hall, on the evenings of January 3 and 5, 1872. The gross receipts for the two evenings were $384.

This seeming digression from our subject was suggested by the fact that at such times, while every attic in the village was ransacked (this was before the advent of rummage sales) for calashes, bell-crowned hats, swallow-tailed coats and all manner of old-fashioned garments, to be used in making up picturesque costumes for the occasion, the loan of a certain red silk gown was always desired.

This gown was a purely domestic production, the work of the hands of Mrs. Lucy Brandegee. She reared the silk-worms,

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which she fed with leaves from the mulberry trees that surrounded her home. She spun and dyed the thread and wove the fabric, with the intention it was said of presenting the dress to Mrs. Martha Washington. Somehow it missed its destination and was worn by Mrs. Brandegee.

It is still in a good state of preservation, but is so highly valued that it would be presumptuous to attempt to borrow it to be used in the hasty scramble of dressing for a tableau or charade.

Emma Hart began her career as a teacher at the age of seventeen, in a schoolhouse which stood in that mulberry orchard, on the Brandegee place. It was in the year 1804.

In the History of New Britain, by Prof. D. N. Camp, is an account of Miss Hart's first day's experience with her pupils, given in her own words, as follows:

I began my work by trying to discover the several capacities and degrees of advancement of the children, so as to arrange them into classes; but they having been under my predecessor, accustomed to the greatest license, would, at their own option, go to the street door to look at a passing carriage, or stepping onto a bench in the rear, dash out of a window and take a lively turn in the mulberry grove. Talking did no good. Reasoning and pathetic appeals were unavailing.

At noon, I explained this first great perplexity of my teacher life to my friend, Mrs. Peck, who decidedly advised sound and summary chastisement.

"I cannot," I replied, "I never struck a child in my life."

"It is," she said, "the only way and you must."

I left her for the afternoon school with a heavy heart, still hoping I might find some way of avoiding what I could not deliberately resolve to do.

I found the school a scene of uproar and confusion which I vainly endeavored to quell. Just then Jesse Peck, my friend's little son, entered with a bundle of nice rods. As he laid them on the table before me, my courage rose, and in the temporary silence which ensued I laid down a few laws, the breaking of which would be followed with immediate chastisement.

For a few minutes the children were silent, but they had been used to threatening, and soon, a boy rose from his seat, and as he was stepping to the door, I took one of the sticks and gave him a

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moderate flogging; then with a grip upon his arm which made him feel that I was in earnest, put him into his seat.

She then exhorted the children to be good, etc., but informed them that she must and would have their obedience. But she says:

The children still lacked faith in my words, and I spent most of the afternoon in alternate whippings and exhortations, the former always increasing in intensity, until at last, the children submitted, and this was the last of corporal punishment in that school.

Elishama Brandegee, Sr., had three sons and two daughters: Jacob, John, Elishama, Lucy, and Sally Milnor. Lucy was the wife of Major Giles Curtis; Jacob settled in New York; John went to New London; Elishama remained on the homestead at Berlin; Sally Milnor died at the age of sixteen.

As a man, Elishama Brandegee, Jr., was upright, kind, genial, full of public spirit, and a leader in many important enterprises of his day. According to the family tradition, he planted, at the age of twelve, on his father's premises, the two rows of stately maples that still remains a monument of the work of his boyhood. After the Middletown turnpike road opened in 1810, he planted the trees on the south side of the way from the top of the hill down to the tannery.

In 1811 he married Emily Stocking of Middletown Upper Houses. The next year he built, on the north side of the old homestead, the fine large house, now owned by W. S. Brandegee. The exact time is not known when he built the great rambling store, once so famous, that occupied the corner opposite his dwelling, but it was in full swing in 1811, with Elishama Brandegee, Jr., as proprietor.

At this store was carried the largest stock of dry goods, groceries, boots and shoes, drugs, etc., to be found between Hartford and New Haven. It was also the wholesale depot for dealers in surrounding towns. The people came here from Meriden and New Britain, and from all about, for miles away, to do their trading. Earmers' wives brought their butter and eggs to this store, where they could exchange them for

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finery—butter at twelve cents a pound and eggs eight cents a dozen.

Twice a year Mr. Brandegee journeyed by stage to New York to replenish his stock. His business there was mostly done on Pearl Street. The merchandise came by water to Middletown, and was brought out to Berlin by teams of horses or oxen. The stock comprised many articles not to be found in country stores of this day. Labels on the drawers are recalled, as SILKS, SATINS, LACES, FINE SHAWLS, etc. In one drawer might be found dainty, colored kid slippers.

Our grandmothers loved gay attire. Mrs. Lucy Curtis used to speak of wearing a pink satin dress on a steamboat excursion down the Connecticut river.

It will give an idea of the part Mr. Brandegee bore in the interests of the town to say that when the new academy was built, he took two hundred of the three hundred and eleven shares subscribed at five dollars per share.

On April 9, 1854, Mr. Brandegee was one of a hundred and thirty persons propounded for admission to the Second Congregational Church. The next day he died quite suddenly, while sitting in his chair.

The children of Elishama Brandegee, Jr., were: Jacob, Dr. Elishama, Camillus, Marius, John, Henry, Sarah (Mrs. Barney), and Julia. John, who assisted his father in the store, kept up the business until 1856. Afterward, for a short time, Mr. Wilcox of Meriden used the building for the manufacture of hoop skirts and employed a large number of girls.

Then for a long while the old store lay idle and the boys and girls of the village played hide and seek in the bins that were formerly used to hold sugar and other commodities.

At last the huge old pile was torn down by William Sage. One small building, made from the lumber, stands opposite the house of C. M. Jarvis. It was once used by Mr. Sage as a stone cutter's shop. The door of that shop was one of the side front doors of the store.

James H. Bunce, the well-known and prosperous dry goods merchant of Middletown, began his mercantile career as clerk

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The Brandegee Thread Factory in East Berlin.
(Later the property of Roys & Wilcox Co.)
From a painting by Durat.

for John Brandegee, and there are persons now living in Berlin who recall his polite and accommodating ways.

At the close of the War of 1812, our country was burdened with a debt of a hundred million dollars, and business generally was paralyzed for want of money. The amounts attached to names in the following list, made in 1817, of the men who were at that time engaged in business in Berlin, will show one method taken to relieve the situation:

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At a meeting of the Listers of the Town of Berlin, convened at Jesse Hart's inn, 13th of Oct, 1817, voted that the persons above named be assessed the sums affixed their names
NOAH W STANLEY
LEVI WELLES,JR
FRANCIS HART
ASHBEL HOOKER
WILLIAM STOCKING
JAMES GUERNSEY
REUBEN NORTH

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In 1817 Horace Steele, Elishama Brandegee's next door neighbor on the south, was engaged in the business of bookbinding. Afterwards he made bandboxes, which he carried to Hartford to sell to the milliners.

Mr. Steele's children were Eliza (mother of the Rev. Andrew T. Pratt, missionary in Turkey), Caroline (Mrs. Joseph Booth), Mary, Jane, Lucy Ann (Mrs. Lorenzo Lamb), and William.

Their home, a large colonial house set well back from the street, was, in its day, socially a center of attraction, filled as it was with bright, merry young people. The old house was torn down by William Steele and the house which he built on its site is now owned by Walter Gwatkin.

In 1801 the Rev. Evan Johns and Mr. Edmund Boldero, with their wives, who were sisters, came to America from England. The pulpit of the Second Congregational Church of Berlin had been without a settled minister since the death of Mr. Goodrich in 1799. Mr. Johns was called to be his successor and was installed June 9, 1802. He was a man of good ability, but he had a high temper, so poorly controlled that he and his people were kept in turmoil until, to the relief of both, he was dismissed February 13, 1811.

He chose as the text of his last sermon, the words "The Devil is the father of liars, and ye are the children of your father." He went on to say, "You are all liars, and the truth is not in you." One good brother, in righteous indignation, rose in his seat to go up and pitch Mr. Johns out of the pulpit, and was hardly restrained from his purpose. Mr. Johns desired to preach one more Sunday in order that he might finish what he had to say, but he was not allowed to enter the pulpit.

The two English families, Johns and Boldero, lived together, in the house lately owned by S. E. Raymond, situated next south of the Horace Steele place. Mr. Johns had one son, Thomas, who, for fear of contamination, was not allowed to go to school, or to play with other children. When Tommy was out in his yard, the little boys of the neighborhood would go

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and peek at him through the pickets. Then Mrs. Johns would appear and say, "Tommy, come away. I do not wish you to speak to those children." It was said that as soon as Tommy came to his majority he plunged into all manner of dissipation and went speedily to "the bad."

The Bolderos remained after the dismissal of Mr. Johns until the death of Mr. Boldero in 1839. Then Mrs. Boldero boarded in the family of Charles A. Goodrich until her death in 1842.

The inscriptions on their tombstones in the East Berlin cemetery read as follows:

Edmund Boldero Esq. Youngest son of Eev. John Boldero, late rector of Ampton, Suffolk, England. Born Anno Domini 1767. Emigrated to America 1801. Died at Berlin Aug. 3 1839 AE 72.

Eutychia Ann Boldero, Relict of the late Edmund Boldero, Esq. and youngest daughter of the late Eev. Thomas Harmer, D.D. Born at Hattisfield, Suffolk, England, Sept. 25th, 1760. Died at Berlin March 27, 1842, Æ 81.

The Bolderos left some property in charge of Mr. Goodrich, who turned it into money, and sent it, by the hand of his son Samuel, over to England, where he delivered it into the hands of the heirs, two interesting old ladies, who lived, if remembered rightly, at Bury St. Edmunds.

There was a mystery about the Bolderos that was buried with them. Some said Mr. Boldero had offended the king and that he came to America to avoid arrest. They lived a secluded life and kept their house locked. Whenever anyone came there, a door would be opened a crack, or a chamber window might be raised, to inquire what the errand was.

The children of that generation used to think it great fun on Thanksgiving day to dress up and go from house to house making calls. A party of them once stopped at the Bolderos and knocked at the door. Mrs. Boldero opened a window and asked what they wanted. They answered: "It is Thanksgiving day and we have come to call upon you." She replied: "Every day, with me, is Thanksgiving, and you'd better run right along."

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When Mr. and Mrs. Boldero left England they supposed they were coming to a wilderness and they brought chest upon chest of clothing, all made up, sufficient to last a lifetime. Mrs. Boldero used to wear to church a pink silk petticoat and a blue silk long shawl. After the service they would wait until all the congregation had gone out, when Mrs. Boldero would say, "My dear, I think we may venture now." Then she would lift her skirt daintily, take her husband's arm, and step down the aisle. They always walked about the yard arm in arm. There were two or three young ladies in the village to whom Mrs. Boldero took a fancy and these favored few were occasionally invited to take a cup of tea with her. The Boldero house was afterward occupied by Sherlock C. Hall, who about 1852 was postmaster. The office was kept in the south front room of the dwelling.

In 1857 Deacon Edward Wilcox sold his property in East Berlin to Daniel M. Rogers and purchased the Boldero place, where he died in 1862. His wife, who was Harriet M. Dowd, died in 1865, and their daughter, Harriet Newell, died in 1893. Deacon Wilcox and his wife and daughter were all devoted to the interests of the church of which they were members, and were eminently useful there and in the community at large.

Deacon S. F. Raymond, who inherited the Wilcox place from his cousin Miss Harriet N. Wilcox, died January 19, 1905, greatly lamented by his many friends.

The name of Edward Wilcox brings to mind a work in which he was greatly interested. In 1857 a manual of the Second Congregational Church of Berlin was published, which represented many weeks of patient research and labor by the Rev. William DeLoss Love, Deacon Benjamin Savage, Deacon Edward Wilcox, and Deacon Alfred North. It is remembered that every meeting of that committee was opened by prayer...

The book contains, besides thirty-four pages of historical memoranda and other matter, a chronological index of every member of the church, from its organization in 1775 up to 1857. Dates of deaths and ages are given and at the end is an alphabetical index.

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Mayor Giles Curtiss, who was a Revolutionary soldier, lived next south of the Bolderos. He died in 1842, aged eighty-nine. The Curtiss house, which stood near the sidewalk, was very well built, with fine mouldings about the ceilings. The property was purchased by Samuel C. Wilcox about 1861, and when he built his new house back on the hill, the old house was taken down by Chauncey Griswold, removed to Meriden and set up again, on Britannia Street, where it is still in use as a tenement house.

On what is now the lawn of the Wilcox place, between the Curtiss house and the great button ball tree, there was once a grocery store kept by a Mr. Latimer.

The Methodist church, situated directly opposite Horace Steele's driveway, was built in 1830. At that time there was no building on that side of the way between it and the Brandegee store.

In 1871 the Methodist society bought the Universalist church and their own building was sold to Eben Woodruff, who moved it down on to his place north of the town hall, to be used as a tobacco barn. It is said that the church fell to pieces as the first load of tobacco crossed its threshold.

The house on the corner south of the Methodist church, now occupied by Bryan H. Atwater and his sister, Miss Mary Atwater, is one of the oldest in Berlin.

Some years since, when the house was repainted, the date 1769 was discovered on the brick work of the chimney, about half-way between the roof and the top of the chimney. It was built to be used as a tavern with a public hall and ballroom on the second floor.

Miss Abby Pattison used to say to her mother, Abigail Miller, attended a ball at Fuller's tavern in 1789. It was that same year when Washington, on his return by stage from Bunker Hill to New York, escorted, as recorded in his diary, by Major Jackson, Mr. Lear and six servants, "breakfasted at Worthington at the house of one Fuller."

Amos Kirby assumed the proprietorship of Fuller's tavern about the year 1814, and lived on the place until his death in

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1846 at the age of seventy-one. During the latter part of his years he carried on the business of a butcher and peddled meat about the town.

A barn formerly stood close to the street north of the Kirby house. There was no fence in front of the house or barn. A roof extended from this barn over the street and underneath were scales for weighing hay. High up under the roof was a large wheel with a shaft that extended the width of the building. Two great ropes, with strong hooks at the end, were wound around the wheel and were connected to a small wheel with a crank and windlass in a room at one side, on the ground.

The carts then in use had but two wheels. They were drawn into the building, the ropes were let down, and the hooks were caught into the cart wheels. Then by turning the crank of the windlass the load was raised to the shaft at the top of the building. Two hooks from the scale balance were secured to the wheels, then the ropes were thrown off and by movable weights, like those used on steelyards, the load was weighed.

On the corner south of the Kirby house there was formerly a building used as a liquor saloon.

The following letter, written by Mr. Atwater and addressed to Mr. F. L. Wilcox, gives further information of interest concerning the ancient tavern :*

Hon. F. L. Wilcox:

DEAR SIR : In response to your request I have outlined below a few points concerning the Masonic chart which is in my house on Berlin street and which may be of interest to you at this time. The house, as you know, was built in 1769, and some twenty years ago upon removing the paper from the east room upstairs we discovered painted upon the plastering of the east side of the room the chart referred to. Although not a Mason myself I am told that this shows various degrees from the Lodge to the Commandery. Two brazen pillars surmounted by the arch and keystone of the chapter are conspicuous in the center, and from the keystone hangs, suspended by a ribbon, the letter G, while in the foreground are represented three persons clothed in royal robes, one under the center of the arch and *See also The Hartford Courant for June 21, 1914.

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one at each pillar. Surounding the arch and columns are represented numerous Masonic symbols, the Templar star with its nine points and passion cross entwined with a serpent; cross, pens with three crowns representing three kings; the ark and dove, the Jewish tabernacle and many others. The wonder is that this chart should have been so completely lost to memory these last sixty or seventy years. Good authorities suppose it to have belonged to Harmony Lodge, No. 20, of New Britain, which formerly held their meetings there. This lodge was first located in Berlin under the name of Berlin Lodge, No. 20, and was organized in 1791, two years after the grand lodge of Connecticut was established. The house was a tavern and relay house of the Boston and New York line of stage coaches.

The room in which is now the chart spoken of was first a part of the dance room of the tavern, running across the house from east to west. It afterwards changed hands and was converted into the Masonic lodge room spoken of and the house with its surroundings was known for many years as the Kirby place, which bears an additional historic interest as it is mentioned in the diary of George Washington which diary is now in the possession of Mr. James F. Joy of Detroit, Michigan, and in which he writes under date of Tuesday, November 10th, 1789, as follows:

"Left Hartford about seven o'clock and took the middle road (instead of the one through Middletown which I went) breakfasted at Worthington, in the township of Berlin, at the house of one Fuller, bated at Smith's on the plain of Wallingford, thirteen from Fuller's which is the distance Fuller's is from Hartford and got into New Haven which is thirteen miles more, about half on hour before sundown. At this place I met Mr Geary in the stage from New York and he gave me the first certain account of the health of Mrs. Washington."

A gentleman of Hartford, prominent in the Order, states that from 1797 to 1800 the lodge had Dr. James G. Percival for master. He was the father of James G. Percival, Jr., the poet, linguist and geologist. A more complete description of the early history of Harmony Lodge was given by the late Hon. Robert J. Vance in his Centennial address, before that order in 1891 and which is shown on the records of the above lodge in New Britain. Trusting this information will be of interest to you, I remain Yours truly, BRYAN H. ATWATER.

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When Amos Kirby was landlord of the Fuller tavern, he and his guests were within easy call of a physician. Dr. William M. Hand lived across the street, in the house now owned by Mrs. B. K. Field. He had an office in the south yard, near the well. This little office building was moved up north, onto the Levi Deming farm, and clever, old black Lindy, sister of Charles Stocker, lived in it for a time. Afterwards it was moved up to Twenty Rod, where it was burned.

A medical treatise, entitled, "The House Surgeon and Physician," published in 1818, was highly valued in our old families. It was always called "Dr. Hand's Book," although his name did not appear in it. A much-thumbed copy, formerly owned by Mr. Reuben North, shows that it was well studied. One day, Mrs. North had the misfortune, in yawning, to dislocate her jaw. She was unable to close her mouth or to speak a word, and she was two miles from a physician. She found in "Dr. Hand" the directions for treatment in case of "Dislocation of the Lower Jaw," which read as follows:

Set the patient on a low stool, so that an assistant may hold the head firm by pressing it against his breast. The operator is then to thrust his thumbs (being first secured by wrapping them in leather or linen cloth, so that they may not slip,) as far back into the patient's mouth as he can, while his fingers are applied to the jaw externally. After he has got firm hold of the jaw, he is to press it firmly downward and backwards, by which means the elapsed heads of the jaw may be easily pushed into the former sockets.

Mrs. North carried the book to her husband and pointed to the directions, which he followed and made a successful operation. A tribute to a discreet wife. Some wives would have been allowed to remain speechless—at least until a doctor could be called.

Dr. Hand was succeeded by Dr. Josiah M. Ward.

William Bulkeley remembers hearing that Dr. Hand, or Dr. Ward, he is not sure which,* was called down to Westfield to visit a sick person, who lived opposite the church. He found his patient so dangerously ill that he decided to remain * It appears later that it must have been Dr. Ward.

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all night. To pass away the time he went out and sat on the stone steps of the church, where he took a cold that caused his death.

One of the first names placed on the list prepared of those to be invited to Berlin's Old Home Day celebration, last September, was that of Alexander M. Ward, son of the faithful family physician, Josiah M. Ward.

Your correspondent * had the pleasure last week of a morning's visit with Mr. Ward, at his home in New Haven.

So far as known, Mr. Ward has the distinction of being the next oldest living person born in Berlin. He will celebrate his ninetieth birthday next year (1907), and the doctor tells him that he is good for a hundred.

Mr. Ward is in possession of all his faculties and in a race would distance most men twenty years his junior. He said I might tell you that, with the exception of a little rheumatism in one arm and shoulder, he had not felt a pain or an ache for thirteen years. He attributes the good time he is now having to an experience of his boyhood. He was sick and it was feared that he was going into consumption.

Captain Norman Peck, who was a brother of Mrs. Ward, used to carry cargoes of American goods to Scotland, and then on his return he would bring a load of Scotchmen over to this country. One day when he called to say "Good bye" to his sister, he saw young Alexander, as he lay in his mother's bed. The captain said: "Give me that boy and I will cure him. I will take him to Scotland and bring him home well."

The mother gave her consent, and asked what clothing she should provide —he had not a stitch of wool about him unless it might be a pair of trousers. His uncle said, "Do not get anything, I will see that he has an outfit when we reach New York." And so his mother wrapped a great camlet cloak with a cape about her child, and off he was carried in that rig.

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The first night in New York the boy was put onto the ship, where sloops, filled with rocks, were coming alongside. The rocks were for ballast, and were thrown on deck. Alexander, just out of his mother's bed, was set to throwing them down into the hold. The next he knew they had weighed anchor, and were off for Charleston, where they were to take on a cargo of cotton. He said, "Where are my clothes?" "I declare," said the captain, "I forgot all about them. Well, we'll get some in Scotland." One of the seamen gave him a vest, that came well down over his body, and finally another gave him a woolen jumper, so that he was made fairly comfortable.

At Charleston, the vessel was ladened to its fullest capacity with bales of cotton. One bale was left out in a certain spot to make a place where Alec and another boy could sleep, but there was not room for both there at the same time, unless they lay spoon fashion.

On the return voyage, as the vessel neared New York harbor, and the city was in full view, Alexander said to himself, "I have not done a single smart thing that I can tell the boys at home about. At that moment his eye caught sight of his country's flag floating from the royal mast. The very thing! Up aloft he climbed, shinned the flag pole, sat on the truck and folded his arms, the ship under full sail. He said, "It-makes me shiver to-day to think of it."

Can you see the rugged sailor boy, who, a few days later, skipped up the bank, across the way from Kirby's tavern, clasped his arms around the neck of Mrs. Ward and called her "mother?" No camlet cloak for him now! He tipped the scales at a hundred and sixty-five. What life more noble, more self-sacrificing than that of a country doctor? He, his wife and his children hold a place in the hearts of the people, equaled only by that of a faithful minister and his family. It would be a pity should the names and good deeds of our Berlin physicians be forgotten.

In 1825, the spotted fever, which for several years was prevalent in New England, raged in Berlin so that it came to be called "the Berlin fever." One story was that the disease

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was brought from the South, by one of the young men who had been there peddling goods. The day after his return he played a game of ball with the Berlin boys, and the next day he was dead of the fever. Others said it was caused by the clogging of Spruce Brook. At that time Mr. Josiah Wilcox, who for many years manufactured tinners' tools at North Greenwich, Conn., was an apprentice with J. & E. North at East Berlin. Shortly before his death, in 1883, he passed over Stoney Swamp road, on his way to East Berlin, and noticed that the meadows were overflowed. He said, "If your people do not clean out the bed of that stream, you will have sickness here," and then he went on to tell of that fearful typhus epidemic, which he said was caused by stagnant water on those flats.

Dr. Josiah M. Ward was then in his prime, and he had sixty cases of the typhoid on his hands. Day and night he rode and visited his patients until he was so exhausted that he would sleep anywhere, even on horseback. Parson Graves and his family in Westfield were all down with the fever, and it was while in attendance there that Dr. Ward fell asleep on the steps of the church opposite the house. He awoke in a chill—the precursor of the fever, from which in his worn condition he could not rally. He died August 25, 1823, at the age of forty-three. Mrs. Ward and three of their children took the fever. One morning the clock struck eight and the children did not come down to breakfast. Diadema, a half sister, went to the chamber and said, "It is late, you must get up." She lifted the little Samuel, four years old, and carried him down the stairs, in her arms. On the way he spat on the floor, and Diadema reproved him. The children were never allowed to do such a thing as that in the house.

In was the beginning of the sickness. In twenty-four hours the child was dead. Mary was sick two days and died. Laura's fever ran two or three weeks and she recovered. The mother was restored to health after a second attack of the disease.

During the epidemic many heads of families were stricken. Among the victims were Blakeslee Barnes, the first Mrs. Free-

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dom Hart, and the wife of Colonel Richard Wilcox. The patients would call for "water, water!" but not a drop was allowed them.

William Bulkeley remembers hearing that the "Street" was strewed with tan bark in order to deaden the sound of the wagon wheels, and that the hearse was not put up in its place at all so steady was it in use.

Mr. Ward said that when his father knew that he could not live he called his wife to sit beside him and gave her directions about their business affairs.

It was not customary in the schools of Mrs. Ward's generation to teach arithmetic to the girls. Dr. Ward advised her to go to some good arithmetician and learn to keep accounts. Diadema Ward attended school in Hartford and taught there out on the hill. She learned to paint in oils, and had classes in painting.

In August, 1839, Louis Daguerre first made known the details of the process discovered by him of producing permanent pictures by the action of light on a sensitive surface. Morse, the American electrician, discoverer of the magnetic telegraph, was also an artist. While abroad he heard of Daguerre's invention, visited him, and learned the process, which on his return to New York, he imparted to a class of young men. Diadema Ward read accounts, in the New York papers, of the interest excited in the new, lovely, soft pictures. She wrote to her brother Alexander about it and said she thought the business might be a good one for him. He took her advice, went to New York, saw Mr. Morse, joined that class and was one of the first six in America who learned to take daguerrotypes. He ordered a machine, brought it to Berlin, set it up at home in the south chamber over the kitchen and practiced on his mother. She did not like to sit for him and would make up faces, but he still has a fine likeness of her, made at that time. William Sage made cases for the pictures.

Mr. Ward had an uncle, who lived in Newburg, N. Y. This uncle wrote to him that no one there had seen the new pictures, and if he would come there he would have all the business he

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could attend to. Accordingly he went to Newburg where he was rushed with work. His plates, made in Waterbury, were heavy and not very sensitive. He spoiled so many that he had to sit up all night scouring and cleaning them. After a while he returned to Berlin and hired a room for a studio in the house north of the old church. He took one picture there for which he received five dollars.

For success, it was necessary to sit perfectly still for five minutes, at least it seemed five minutes, without as much as winking. The head was secured by an instrument resembling a pair of tongs, and children were scared almost to death when placed in the chair. Even their parents wore an expression so serious, so funereal as to seem ludicrous to this generation. Materials were costly and Mr. Ward found that his receipts were not sufficient to cover expenses. In 1844 he went to the West Indies. There in Barbadoes he sold his machine. He said he showed the purchaser how to use it, but never heard what success he had.

Mr. Ward had much interesting information to give relating to the days of his boyhood.

The wife of Landlord Kirby was an Atwood. She was well educated and was a violinist. She used to play for all the dances at her hotel.

Allen North, who lived on the Jarvis corner, used to come out every summer night, after his work was done, and sit on the bank and play his violin. The boy Alexander would go out to listen and he said he thought it was lovely music. Mrs. Ward sold the doctor's office for just what it cost to build an arbor over the well, that was in it.

The Bolderos made a friend of young Alexander and employed him to bring in wood, etc. Mr. Boldero always kept a supply of half cents on hand so that he might make exact change. Mr. Ward said he often cited Mrs. Boldero to the young ladies of his acquaintance, as an example of the proper way of lifting a dress skirt. He said when they had to cross a muddy street, they would catch up one side, and let the other side drag in the dirt. When Mrs. Boldero started for church

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she laid one hand in her husband's arm; with the other she reached back to the center of her skirt and gave it a little twist; then she would lift it in such a way that it escaped the ground entirely. That was London style.

When Mr. Boldero died, a worthy neighbor, who had lived within a stone's throw nigh on to forty years, ventured to attend the funeral. Mrs. Boldero noticed her, and said, "Who is that woman?" When told, she said, "I do not know her; it annoys me to have her here."

Mr. Ward remembers the flourishing debating society formed in connection with Worthington Academy. He spoke especially of Edward Dunbar, born in Berlin, a son of Esquire Daniel Dunbar, who lived in the house now owned by Mrs. Hopkins. Edward Dunbar showed his intellect by his powerful arguments in the meetings of that debating club. He went to New York, where he became a bank note engraver, then he published a commercial paper, and was the originator of Bradstreet's Commercial Rating Agency.

In 1802, Abel Hollister, George Hubbard, Jesse Heart, and Leonard Sage were appointed a committee to "Sell the Brick School House and Land adjoining Belonging to ye old South west District, in Berlin, Worthington."

A deed, dated June 10, 1802, shows that the said committee, for the consideration of two hundred dollars, conveyed the property to Jonathan Sage. Roger Riley and Elisha Cheney witnessed the deed. This schoolhouse stood close on the corner, south of the Dr. Hand place, on property now owned by C. M. Jarvis. The building was fitted up for a tenement.

Miss Julia Brandegee remembers that once upon a time a woman lived there who had a daughter called "Crazy Lois," and that the children used to take a bee line from the south school to see "Crazy Lois," who would come to the door and scare and chase them.

Another well-remembered tenant was Trout Wright, who was a typical, old time, bloated drunkard, and his wife was

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a good second, but she was industrious and earned a living by going out washing at fifty cents a day. She used to carry a bottle of "tea" in her bag, to keep up her strength. Trout gained his nickname in this way: He was fond of fishing, and one day when he had caught a fine trout, he was heard to say, "Trout, you are Captain Trout's trout now." He used to say that a pint of rum would go farther in his family than a dollar's worth of flour.

The couple were clever and peaceful when sober, but they quarrelled with each other when they were having sprees. He would get her down and beat her until he was tired. Then he would wait and say "Enough! 'nough! say 'nough and I'll stop!" If she refused to speak he would go on beating her again until she cried “Enough."

At these times the boys delighted to tease them by such tricks as throwing dead kittens in at the window. They would retaliate by throwing hot water at the boys, and Trout would rush out brandishing an axe, with threats to kill them. They were not at all afraid of him he was so weak and tottlish.

Poor Trout! At last he had delirium tremens. He was seen in the Brandegee orchard trying to run up the trees to escape the devil, who he said was after him. He went over to East Berlin to get away from his tormentor. It was a Sunday. He went into the factory of P. Roys and B. Savage to hide, and squeezed himself back of a boiler where, after church, he was discovered by his screams. Mr. Boys pulled him out and told him to go home, get into a feather bed, and nothing would hurt him.

The old schoolhouse was used at one time by the father of Philip North as a stoncutter's shop,* and when, about twenty-five years ago, John Thompson built the house that Mr. Jarvis recently moved farther west, he pulled the building down.

Mr. William Sage and his family lived in the Dr. Ward place quite a number of years. Miss Hattie Sage says she is sure that her mother told her that Mr. Johns built the house. Mrs. Johns fell down the chamber stairs and was so severely injured that she died. Her inscription on her tombstone in the East Berlin cemetery reads as follows:

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JOHNS In memory of Sophia, second daughter of the Rev'd Thomas Harmer, author of Observations on divers passages of Scripture, illustrating them by travels in the East, and wife of Rev'd Evans Johns, minister of this parish. She landed at New York on the 12th of May 1801 and died in consequence of a fatal fall on the 28th of August 1808.

When Miss Sage was a little girl she lost a kitten under the attic roof and in her efforts to rescue it, she drew out a diary, dated Hartford, January 1, 1811. It was the journal of a school boy and was ended January 13. The name "Johns" is on the cover, but the first name is obliterated. It is supposed to have been written by Thomas Johns. The language is good for a boy, and shows that his speech had not been corrupted by association with country school chi

ldren.

He speaks often of Dr. Bacon, with whom he evidently boarded, and of watering, feeding, and riding the doctor's horse. A few extracts from the journal may be of interest:

Jan 1st was made to stay some time after school Jan 2nd Walked about the streets and looked at some boys Jan 3rd Bought a roll of candy .... went to school and had a scuffle .... read Don Quixote

Jan 4th In came Father, so I walked about a mile and had a chat with him.... ate my supper.... read a little in Don Quixote . . . . then wrote my Journal .... then cut some bread and cheese after the Doctor came home and I talked with him first on diet and then on the difference between English and Latin grammar

Saturday Jan 5th Got up into the Dove-House.... went and rode on sleds.... rode back and forth in the streets all the afternoon .... threw snow at the boys .... read a chapter in the Bible, then attended prayers Jan 7th Studied a lesson in Virgil which we construed and passed Jan 8th School being done I came home got three apples and ate them

Saturday Jan 12th Went to school.... in the afternoon took some recreation ... slid down hill with the boys

Sunday Jan 13th Got up this morning late.... went to meeting twice then spent the night in study Amen and Amen

Mr. Bulkeley says that Allen North, the father of Philip North, lived in the old corner, near the south schoolhouse, but

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that he was not a stonecutter, it was Almeron Bacon who had a marble yard at that place.

The mention of Crazy Lois brought to mind other stories about her. When the school children passed her house she used to go to the front door and say, "Pretty little children, pretty little children!" Then, as she clasped her hands and they scampered away, she would repeat, "See the little birds fly, see the little birds fly."

Miss Julia Roys, who formerly lived in East Berlin, remembers that when a little girl she came up to visit Harriet Bulkeley, and that she was taken to see Lois as one of the sights of the village. They looked in at the door of a room, where Lois was in bed, with a large pitcher filled with clover blossoms and daisies near her side.

After the mother died there was no one to care for Lois, and she was taken to the town farm. Toward the end of her life she had a severe illness. Her reason, that had been shattered in youth, was now perfectly restored, but all the years from childhood to old age were a blank. Dr. Brandegee attended her in that sickness, and one day he noticed that she looked intently at her hands. When he asked her what was the matter with them, she replied, "Why, they look like an old woman's hands."

Going on south from the Maple Cemetery we come to the Sage farm. There was once a cigar factory in the south part of the house belonging to this estate. Across the road in the apple orchard the Burt brothers manufactured percussion caps, but the industry came to a sudden end one day in an explosion which damaged the premises and killed one boy, the son of Philip North. This factory is still a portion of Atwater's cider mill.

At a town meeting held April 10, 1796, it was voted "that the Selectmen of Berlin lay out the proposed road a little north of Capt. David Sage's dwelling house, westerly to the road near where Israel Fuller now lives."

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Follow this road a short distance and on the north side you will come to a house now owned by the florist and carpenter A. A. Welden. This place was for many years the home of the Piper family. Luther Piper, Sr., and his son Luther, were coopers. Besides making large quantities of barrels for cement manufactured by the Moores, of Kensington, they supplied all the community with hogsheads, water barrels and cider barrels, barrels for pounding clothes, pork and soap barrels.

Speaking of soap brings to mind an industry once practiced by every family, of which the following description has been given by an old lady: "Ashes, bones, and refuse fat were carefully hoarded through the year. In the spring a large hogshead, set on a low platform, was filled with ashes, over which water was poured. The lye thus formed was collected in pails from holes bored through the lower part of the hogshead. A large iron or brass kettle was filled with the soap grease, and set over a fire, sometimes kindled in the yard. The strong lye was poured into the kettle and the whole mass was boiled until the soap 'came,' which was known when it 'spun aprons' from a stick lifted from the kettle." One family in town, noted for slackness, threw away all their ashes until spring came and the soap barrel was empty. Then they burned all the wood they could pile on the fireplace, day and night, for the sake of the ashes.

That this industry was not so innocent as may appear, is shown by the records of burial in the Beckley Quarter Cemetery, one of which reads as follows:

In memory of Sally North, daughter of Joseph and Rhoda North, who died July 16, 1818 æ 27 Killed instantly by the fall of a hogshead of ashes.

Hot soap was no mean weapon in the hands of a woman. Miss Fannie Robbins tells a story of her grandmother who, when she was twelve years old, was left at home alone one day to keep the house and to watch a kettle of soap that was boiling over a fire in the back yard. On the table in the kitchen was a baking of bread just out of the brick oven. A company of men,

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straggling along the road, stopped and went prowling about the premises. Miss Bobbins thinks she was told that they were Indians, but her sister thought they were British soldiers. Whichever they were, one of the men stepped into the kitchen and helped himself to a loaf of bread; then another followed and took a loaf; as a third started forward, the brave girl, with her heart in her mouth, spoke up, and said, "My mistress will not like it to have you take her bread, she wants it for her children, and if you take another loaf I will throw a piggin of hot soap on you." And off they went. (A piggin was a wooden pail with one stave left higher than the rest for a handle.)

Mr. George H. Sage has kindly given the following account of his ancestral home and its occupants:

BERLIN, CONST., Jan. 29th, 1906. My dear Miss North: It is a pleasure to reply to your request for a history of our farm house. The Sage house was built about the year 1720 by Captain David Sage, (son of John and grandson of David who settled in Middletown in 1652,) who, with his twin brother Benjamin, came to Berlin from Middletown. It might be well to add here that Benjamin's house built at the same time, stood below David's and just south of the Clark place. Benjamin Sage married Mary Allen of Berlin, and died in 1734; his house has long since disappeared.

Captain David married Bathsheba Judd of Berlin and they had four sons and four daughters. One son, Deacon Jedediah, married Sarah Marcy of Berlin and remained on the present Sage farm. Another son, Zadoch, lived almost directly across the road from Benjamin, and the old well is now near the site of the house, a few rods north of where the brick schoolhouse stood. As time went by the Sage house was filled with the deacon's four sons and three daughters, so Captain David moved into the house built by his brother Benjamin and was ninety-three years old when the road was built west toward Mr. Welden's. I believe Jedediah was deacon of the Second Congregational church for twenty-seven years. He died in 1826 aged eighty-nine years.

Colonel Erastus, his son, married Elinor Dickenson of Berlin and succeeded to the farm where ten children were born to them, my

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The Sage Homestead.
(Built about 1720 by Capt. David Sage.)

father, Henry, being the one who stayed at home. I have my grandfather's papers among which is his appointment by the General Assembly to be Colonel of the 4th Regiment of cavalry in the militia and signed by Oliver Wolcott Esq., as governor, and dated the 31st day of May 1819.

The property has been in the family about 186 years, and for five generations. The house has been added to from time to time, but the original has been well preserved with its huge stone chimney, four fireplaces, brick ovens, and the hewn white oak timbers forming the framework are as solid today as when they were raised almost two hundred years ago. Yours sincerely, GEO. H. SAGE.

It will be remembered that, when a few years since Mr. George H. Sage purchased the property on which he built his new house, there stood on the lot, close to the street, embowered in lilac bushes, a large, old, dilapidated, brown house. Zenas Richardson and Vashti Norton were married in 1807 and that house was their home. Zenas was a shoemaker and in his business he employed quite a number of apprentices.

The Richardsons lost a little son in 1810. His inscription reads thus:

In memory of Orenzo,
Son of Zenas & Vashti Richardson
who died April 6th 1810 aged 8 days.
In the morning it looked promising,
In the evening it lay withering.

Queer names! Other sons who came to the Richardsons were Andrew, Darius, and Nelson.

Zebulun Richardson lived in this neighborhood; was he the father of Zenas ?

When the Hartford and New Haven turnpike was laid out in 1800 the town voted to make the road four rods wide in front of Zebulun Richardson's by taking one rod off from his front yard.

The Nortons were large landholders and Vashti inherited from her father, Andrew Norton, a piece of ground that

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extended across the east side of the old part of the south cemetery which adjoined her house lot.

As we retrace our steps southward let us learn more about the old places. When Zenas Richardson gave up shoemaking, his shop on the Geo. H. Sage place was used for the manufacture of tinware. If we stop at William Moore's, opposite the old Atwood place, now Bert Hart's, and dig into his bank we shall turn out quantities of tin chips. Mr. Moore's house was once a tinshop conducted by Fred Squires. Mr. Squires went to Rhode Island, before 1835, and the story is that he was one of the leaders there in Governor Dorr's rebellion.

Russell Clark came to Berlin in 1828 and purchased the farm south of the Sage homestead. His children were: Hope S., John, Luther, Sarah C, and Rozilla. Hope was a pupil at Worthington Academy, when Mr. Parish was principal. At the age of seventeen she taught the south district school. Her sister Sarah, twelve years old, attended the school and was made to mind. Hope was married when eighteen and went to New York to live. She married, second, the Rev. S. H. Beale. They live at Camden, Me. Mr. Beale is ninety years old.

Sarah C. Clark was married to the Rev. Nathan Coleman. During the Civil War they taught at the south—at Norfolk, Va., in 1864, and near Petersburg in 1865. Mr. Coleman taught at one time in the Worthington Academy. He was an enthusiastic naturalist and never tired of talking with his pupils about flowers and insects, of which he made an extensive collection. Mrs. Coleman lives with her sister, Mrs. Beale, in Maine. Russell Clark died January 14, 1855, aged sixty-three years. His inscription reads: "Help Lord for the godly man ceaseth, for the faithful fail from among the children of men." Elbert J. Clark was not a son of Russell. He came from Westfield, married Rozilla Clark, and succeeded her father in charge of the farm. He died December 3, 1887, aged seventy-eight, and the property is now owned by Charles M. Jarvis.

At a meeting of the inhabitants of the Town of Berlin held April 22, 1805, liberty was granted the southwest district in

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Worthington to erect a schoolhouse on the old road a little south of Zadoc Sage's dwelling house, near a stake set for said house, and the selectmen were "impowered" to set off a suitable yard to accommodate said schoolhouse.

This site was on the east side of the way, just north of the little stream that crosses the road where the horses love to drink. It is not known how the children had been accommodated since the sale of their brick schoolhouse on the Jarvis corner, in 1802.

The new schoolhouse was a frame building. Some time about 1835 it was sold to Luther Piper, who moved it over to his place and used it for a cooper's shop. It was replaced by a brick building which was burned about fifteen years ago.

At that same town meeting of April 22, 1805, the selectmen were "Impowered" to dispose of the old road leading by Esq. Hosford's, beginning a little south of Zadoc Sage's, near the stake set to build a schoolhouse. This old road extended to a road that ran easterly and westerly by Mr. Edwards' barn.

Mr. E. I. Clark says that when Mr. Henry Sage had charge of the town roads, he used to tell him about a road that once ran across the lots back of Deacon Hosford's and came out a few rods east of Mr. Clark's house. Its course could be traced at that time. On the corner next south of the schoolhouse lived Samuel Bishop, who was a house painter. There were many large old cherry trees in his yard and people from far and near used to go to gather fruit from those trees. Mr. Bishop died in 1856, aged ninety-one. The old house was torn down long since, and the new schoolhouse stands on the place.

Samuel Bishop, Jr., lived on the corner opposite his father and made shoes, which he sold in New York. He employed ten or twelve workmen, and in winter carried the shoes to market in his sleigh. Mr. E. I. Clark says that one morning, when the sleighing was particularly fine, Mr. Bishop started early with his load, and drove-the entire distance, reaching New York at evening of the same day.

On the same side of the highway, farther south, we come to the house once owned by Walter Edwards, the father of Miss

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Martha Edwards, a well-known visitor in town. Mr. Edwards kept a dozen young men busy in his shoe factory at that place. The property is now owned by Henry Hollister.

Jedediah Norton, grandfather of the late Henry Norton and of his brother Philip Norton, came to Berlin from Wallingford. He ma