SOCIAL LIFE IN FARMINGTON EARLY IN THE CENTURY.
BY JULIUS GAY OF FARMINGTON.

[The following article was prepared at my special request by Mr. Julius Gay of Farmington, a gentleman of fine education and of great intelligence in all matters of local and state history. I am sure it will very much interest the readers of my book. It is of special pertinence to these reminiscences, as Far- mington is my native place and it depicts the social life into which I was born and in which I was reared. I have appended a few short notes, generally enlarging a little from my personal recollection some of the points spoken, of by Mr. Gay.

The Edward Hooker, from whose journal of that time Mr. Gay makes several extracts, was my father. He kept a minute daily journal from the time of his graduation at Yale College in 1805 to about 1825, covering the period of his residence in South Carolina, his two years' tutorship at Yale, his marriage and the birth of two of his children (the second being myself), and the time of his taking young men to prepare them for college. The jour- nal is an almost inexhaustible mine of materials for the study of the people and habits of that time, J. H.

The present village of Farmington, the original center of the old town which once extended from Simsbury on the north to Cheshire on the south, and from the river towns of Hartford and Wethersfield westward beyond the Burlington mountain range, occupies about the same ground as the village of the Revolution. On the site of Unionville the tavern of Solomon Langdon stood almost alone on the forest trail which led to Litchfield and far-off Albany. Plainville, then known as the "Great Plain," had only a few scattered houses, while Avon, Bristol, Burlington, and Southington, though parts of the town when the revolution began, were separate communities, having meeting-houses and a social life of their own. The dwellers on the rich alluvial soil along the Farmington River were industrious and prosperous. The horrors of Indian warfare came all around them and left them unharmed. The only revolutionary armies which marched through their streets were the friendly troops of Rochambeau.

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At the close of the war the one or two stores on the main street gave place to a dozen or more that supplied the wants of the numerous villages springing up to the westward. Their owners began to import their own goods from the West Indies and even from far-off China. From Middletown they shipped to the West Indies, in their own vessels, oxen, cows, beef, pork, flour, corn, and all manner of farm products, until the breaking out of the war between England and Prance in 1792 let loose the French privateers on their unprotected commerce and gave rise to the still unsettled "French Spoliation Claims." Later on from 1800 to 1806 much Farmington capital was invested in trade with China; In the ship Sally, Capt. Storer; the Huron, Capt. Moulthrop; the Oneida, Capt. Brintnall, and other ships, usually with a Farming- ton supercargo. Along with the ships sailed young men of the village seeking more stirring adventures than the quiet streets of their native village afforded.* Their letters home from Canton, the islands of the South Atlantic and South Pacific, then first explored by adventurous navigators, gave brilliant pictures of foreign travel when life was young and every scene a surprise. We have letters from the Falkland Islands off the east coast of Patagonia, from South Georgia some seven hundred miles eastward, and several from Massafuera just west of Juan Fer- nandes. At these places they captured large numbers of seals, making up cargoes of sealskins, on one voyage at least, 13,025, which were sold in Canton for ninety-five cents each, and the proceeds invested in silks, nankeens, tea, and china ware. Then, after circumnavigating the globe, the adventurers sailed back to New Haven, and the wealthy owners divided the spoils. So Farmington, for one generation, grew rich and took on luxurious habits. President Porter, in his discourse of 1872, says, "The old meeting-house began to rustle with silks and to be gay with rib-

* Among these sailors was my uncle, James Hooker, an older brother of my father, of whom I give some account in a note at the foot of page 317. I remember well Captain Mix (a son of Squire Mix, a leading citizen of the town), who used to walk about the streets in his blue jacket, with the tradi- tional gait of an old sailor. He was then but a middle-aged man, but was of intemperate habits, and as I understood lost for that reason his place as a ship master under the Cowles Brothers. I was a small boy when he died. Life on the sea seems at that time to have been a school of intemperance. It became the vice not merely of the forecastle, but of the cabin. It made a great change in this respect when the daily allowance of grog to each sailor was wholly discontinued, as it was by 1830. J. H.

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bons, The lawyers wore silk and velvet breeches, broadcloth took the place of homespun for coat and overcoat ; and corduroy displaced, leather for breeches and pantaloons. As the next cen- tury opened, pianos were heard in the best houses, thundering out the 'Battle of Prague ' as a tour de force, and the gayest of gigs and the most ostentatious of phaetons rolled through the village. Houses were built with dancing halls for evening gayety, and the most liberal hospitality, recommended by the best of cookery, was dispensed at sumptuous dinners and suppers." At this rapid increase of wealth and luxury, Gov. Treadwell sounds a note of warning. " The young ladies," he says, " are changing" their spinning-wheels for forte-pianos, and forming their manners at the dancing school rather than in the school of industry. Of course the people are laying aside their plain apparel manufac- tured in their houses, and clothing themselves with European and India fabrics. Labor is growing into disrepute, and the time when the independent farmer and reputable citizen could whistle at the tail of his plough with as much serenity as the cob- bler over his last, is fast drawing to a close. The present time marks a revolution of taste and of manners of immense impor- tance to society, but while others glory in this as a great advance- ment in refinement, we cannot help dropping a tear at the close of the golden age of our ancestors, while with a pensive pleasure we reflect on the past, and with suspense and apprehension anticipate the future." Good Deacon Samuel Richards also exclaims, " The halcyon days of New England are past. The body of the people are putting off rigidity in habits and morals." One of the first results of increasing wealth was a desire for a better education for their children than the district school afforded. Already, in 1792, Miss Sally Pierce had established her famous school in Litchfield under the patronage of Chief Justice Tapping Reeve, Gov. Wolcott, Col. Tallmadge, and other distinguished men, probably the first female seminary in America. Here were sent the young ladies of this village until the Farmington Acad- emy was established. E. D. Mansfield, LL.D.,* once connected

* Edward D. Mansfield, here mentioned, was born in New Haven in 1801, prepared for college with my father, graduated at Princeton College in 1822, studied law in Litchfield, settled in Cincinnati, where he was elected professor of constitutional law in Cincinnati College in 1836, soon after leaving that position for journalism, in which he continued the rest of his life. He died in t88o. He was the author of several books. His "Personal Memories" was published in 1879.

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with the "Old Red College" of Mr. Edward Hooker of this vil- lage, gives us in his " Personal Memories " an outside view of the school as it appeared a few years later, on his first visit to Litch- field. " One of the first objects which struck my eyes was inter- esting and picturesque. This was a long procession of school girls coming down North street, walking under the lofty elms, and moving to the music of a flute and flageolet. The girls were gayly dressed and evidently enjoying their evening parade in this most balmy season of the year. It was the school of Miss Sally Pierce, one of the earliest and best of the pioneers in American female education. That scene has never faded from my mem- ory. The beauty of nature, the loveliness of the season, the sud- den appearance of this school of girls, all united to strike and charm the mind of a young man, who, however varied his experi- ence, had never beheld a scene like that." He was about to enter the Litchfield Law School, a famous institution which gathered numerous brilliant young men, especially from the south. Their proximity might have been a disturbing element in the quiet of the young lady's school had Miss Pierce lacked the wisdom to manage discreetly what would have ruined a weaker administra- tion. The young men were allowed to call on certain evenings, but woe to the man who transgressed ever so slightly the laws of strict decorum. To be denied admission to Miss Sally Pierce's parlor was the deepest disgrace which could befall a young man. A school girl writes home that a " Mr. L——— was very attentive to Miss N——— of Farmington, and gazed at her so much that it mortified Miss N———, and Miss Sally spoke to him, and he has not been in the house since March." It was only after much cor- respondence and penitence that Mr. L——— was reinstated. On leaving the school each girl was expected to bring home to her admiring parents some evidence of proficiency in her studies. Those who could, exhibited elaborate water color drawings which have ever since hung on the walls of Farmington parlors. Others less gifted were advised to paint their family coat of arms, and, if they had never heard of any, they soon learned how all this could be managed without any correspondence with the Herald's College. One Nathan Ruggles, who advertised in the Connecti- cut Courant, "at his Looking Glass and Picture Store, Main Street, opposite the State House, city of Hartford," had somehow come in possession of the huge folio volume of " Edmonson's Complete Body of Heraldry," and allowed anyone to select from

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its vast assortment of heraldic monsters, " Gorgons and Hydras and Chimeras dire," such as suited his taste. His sole charge was the promise of being employed to frame the valuable work when done, I have seen several of these devices which were brought home from Litchfield, some done in water colors and some in embroidery, with combinations of color which would make a herald stare, They had, however, just as good right to them as ninety-nine out of a hundred of the families who flaunt coat armor and pictures of English castles, and all that in their published genealogies. Nathan Ruggles, who was in a measure responsible for all this spurious heraldry, came to an untimely end. We read in the Connecticut Courant that in a private dis- play of fireworks at his house, the whole suddenly exploded and brought his heraldic career to an all too brilliant conclusion, Music was not a specialty of Miss Pierce, and so the Farmington young ladies were removed to the school of Mr. Woodbridge in Middletown, where a piano was procured for their use, and instruc- tion was given them by a Mr, Birkenhead. One of them writes, " My Papa has just informed me that I might go to Middletown this summer to school with my cousin Fanny. I am so strongly attached to my native place that it is not without regret that I leave it; from the calm scenes of pleasure into a busy crowd of extravagant people. I have been warned of my danger. My Mamma is something unwilling I should go, for fear that the pleasures of the world and its fashionable enjoyments will gain an ascendency over me and raise ambitious views and lead me into the circle of an unthinking' crowd." Two years afterward she is sent to New York to continue her musical studies and writes, " Had a long passage here ; no female kind on board with us, but plenty of male, . . . and above all was Mr. Wollstone- craft, brother to the famous Mary Godwin, author of the ' Rights of Women.' He was a very good looking man, conversed hand- somely, and was, to appearance, of great information. He informed me that his sister died two years ago. . . . I have seen him once since we came here. He is an officer in the army stationed at New York." By Mary Godwin she refers to the mother of the future wife of the poet Shelley.

The first piano in town of which I find mention was bought by Gen. Solomon Cowles, probably in 1798 or 1799. In November 6, 1799, his niece writes, "Wednesday . . . Came to Uncle Solomon's to hear the music, piano and bass-viol and three voices.

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From there to Mr. Chatmcey Deming's to see their new piano, which is a very good one. It has ten more keys than Fanny's." A piano was bought about this time by Zenas Cowles, and these three pianos were probably the only ones in town for several years.* As for the style of music rehearsed on these instruments, we read: "Wednesday eve. Mr. Birkenhead had a benefit at Gridley's and his pupils played, all except Nabby Deming and myself. He wished me to play, but as I did not sing I thought it not best. Fanny played much the best, and sung extremely well, indeed. The tunes she played were ' The Shipwreck,' 'The Tear,' and ' The Bud of the Rose.' Dr. Todd, I. Norton, and Larcon were there with their instruments. After

* When I was a small boy my father purchased a piano for my sister, three years older than myself. There were at that time but few pianos in the village, and they had not ceased to be curiosities, and to be regarded as extrava- gances. My father was very fond of music, and began at once to amuse himself with the piano, though he never became an expert player. I often heard him for an hour at the piano after we had all gone to bed, and he not in- frequently spent an hour over it at midnight when he happened to have a wakeful night. My uncle James, whom I have spoken of on page 27 as his wayward brother, whose intemperate habits compelled my father to relinquish his settled plan of going into the practice of law in Columbia, So. Car., with his brother John (see page 237), and to settle in Farmington and take the family farm and the care of his father and. mother, was then living with the old people at Farmington, and, upon the death of my grandfather, came into our family. My father was the youngest member of the family, and the only one (besides James) who was not settled in life. My uncle James, I remember well, in all my childhood. He lived to be 67. He had been a sailor under the Cowles Brothers, and had spent a few years on the sea. He there acquired the common habit of sailors of taking their daily grog, as well as a familiar use of their picturesque and often very emphatic language. He had been a bright boy, and through life was very fond of sitting all day in his room and reading. He had very positive views of social matters, and greatly dis- liked the introduction in our homespun village of pianos and extravagance. I have often seen him terribly irritated by my sister's inartistic practice upon it, and remember his once saying, as we stood in the yard, with the noise from it coming through the open window, '' There goes again that d———-d eternal jewsharp." His death was preceded by a long typhoid fever, during which my father watched over and nursed him night and day, feeling, I think, that he had been too impatient with him in his "often infirmity." When at last, at the end of several weeks, he died, my father at once went to bed in complete exhaustion, and died in four days. He was but 61, and ought to have lived twenty years longer. Thus was wasted the life of one of the brightest of the family, and more than wasted, since in going down it carried with it the life of my father, one of the best and most useful of men.—J. H.

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the playing was finished the company danced two figures, and George [afterward Gen, George] danced a hornpipe. Came. home at twelve o'clock."

And now with the young men, some in college and some in Canaan Academy, and the girls in Litchfield or Middletown, what sort of schools had they left behind them ? As good as those of our neighbors, and as much better as the lifelong labors of Gov. Treadwell could make them. Two or three young misses, just beginning to write letters, thus inform their dignified cousin at Yale: "Mr. Lee," that is, Matthew Lee, the teacher, "says that the girls make more disturbance than all the rest of the school. I learn Geography but not Grammar, because Mr. Lee says he does not understand English Grammar." Eight months afterwards our collegian is informed—"We have got a good schoolmaster. His name is Gordon Johnson. You must be a good boy, and learn as fast as you can." A year later we learn that—" Mr. Nathan North keeps our school. He boards at our house. Mr. North has between thirty and forty scholars in his school." It was visited on the last day of the year by Gov. Treadwell, Major Hooker, Rev. Mr. Washburn, Deacon Bull, Col. Isaac Cowles, and Gen. Solomon Cowles. ' Imagine these ponderous dignitaries sitting around the blazing log fire on that winter's day. I will warrant there was no want of decorum in school that day, on the girls' side or anywhere else. What hard questions they put does not appear. Probably Messrs. Washburn, Treadwell, and Bull could hardly have failed to inquire, "What is the chief end of man ? " One lively miss writes, " They praised us very much, and if I was sure you would not think I was proud, I would tell you that my writing was judged the best in school." Good penman- ship was considered of the first importance, and was the one qualification most insisted on in the examination of teachers. Nathan North, sitting at his desk one winter's day after school was out, writes to a friend—"It is six o'clock, and I am at my schoolhouse writing in the dark. Oh wretched man that I arn, because I can write no better."

But enough of schools. The intellectual life of the middle aged found exercise in the several debating and literary societies of the day, The Social Club, The Union Society, The Weekly Meeting, and I know not how many others. The latter comes into being January 15, 1772, with this ponderous preamble : "It has been justly observed in all ages that vice increases when

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learning is on the decline, and, on the contrary, when useful .learning flourishes, it in some measure excludes vice and im- morality ; and we, the subscribers, sensible of the prevalence of vice and the low state useful learning is in among us," etc., etc. We learn, however, that after a few weeks this meeting joined the Social Club, under different regulations. A series of fourteen essays written by Amos Wadsworth for these clubs, beginning with the year 1772, and as many more by his brother Fenn, have come down to us. The subjects, many of them, show the theo- logical bias of the age. Some of them were —" Conscience, whether it be lawful to follow its dictates in all cases ; " " Infant Baptism vindicated; " " Extorted Promises not binding; " " Beasts not rational; " " Enslaving Negroes vindicated; " " Origin of Civil Society;" "The Sabbath Evening must be kept holy;" "Theft ought not to be punishable with death;" " The duty of unre- generate men to pray; " " The Supreme Magistrate not to be re- sisted;" "The Powers of Congress." The club sometimes also dropped into poetry. They have left us a " Song to Sylvia," in six verses, with much about love and turtle dove, the nightingale and amorous tale, and other interesting matters. I speak of these clubs as being the progenitors of those of the next two genera- tions with which our subject is more immediately concerned, in. which other topics are discussed, and when thought begins to take a broader range. In 1813 we hear of the "Moral Society." Mr. Hooker records—"Thursday, Sept. 9. Evening. Attended the 'Moral Society,' when the conversation was chiefly on the means of resisting the vice of profane swearing." The next week the society conversed " on the use of ardent spirits at the meetings of people for business." At other meetings they dis- cussed colonization for the negro, paper money, and other topics of a political nature, until the one member who looked upon slavery as a divine ordinance came to denounce the Moral Society and all effort to interfere with the morals of the com- munity or the nation as odious, comparing them with the in- quisition of Spain and the system of espionage in the time of Bonaparte. A more genial body of men was the " Conversation Club," which met weekly at the houses of the members and dis- cussed a wide range of topics. The principal members were Doctors Todd and Thomson, Mr. Goodman, principal of the academy, Egbert Cowles, Alfred Cowles, George Robinson, Nathaniel Olmsted, and sometimes other prominent men. Mr.

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Hooker almost always attended, and wrote in his diary an ab- stract of the subjects considered, and the diverse opinions of each of the members. We have space for only the most meagre account of these most interesting discussions. They conversed on the penitentiary system; to what extent it is desirable that the benefits of education be diffused among the mass of people; on poor laws; on the expediency of further and greater encourage- ment being given to the manufacturing interests of the United States; on the distribution of the public school money of Connec- ticut; on the assessment of property, and on other questions mostly of public utility. There were also monthly meetings of the village library company, in which they discussed the merits of new books, and Mr. Hooker records the talk at length. The comparative value of the " Commentaries " of Clarke and Scott and Gov. Tread well's criticism of "Johnson's Lives of the Poets," especially interested them. The ladies, too, had a society known as the Female Society, for aiding in the education of pious youth for the ministry. By far the most interesting conversa- tions recorded by Mr. Hooker are those which he himself held with the good people of the village in his daily walks among them, and which he recorded at length when he returned at night, revealing what Farmington society most cared for, and giving some insight into its culture and intellectual breadth. We can give but glimpses of it. He says —'' In the afternoon moralized with Mr. Chauncey Deming at his store about an hour .... He entertained me with some description of the manners that prevailed thirty or forty years ago. He says that more expense is bestowed on the bringing up of one youth than was formerly bestowed on twenty. Young fellows would often, perhaps gen- erally, go to meeting without stockings and shoes in the summer till they were fourteen or fifteen years old. Not more than twenty-eight years ago the girls would attend balls with checkered aprons on, and he has many a time gone to a ball with Dema (his wife) attired in that way." Again—"Made a call of an hour or two at Chauncey Deming's. Conversed on his favorite theme, the selfishness of the human character." With Gov. Tread well he converses on the common origin of mankind, on foreign missions, on Johnson's " Lives of the Poets," and on the sudden growth of Farmington opulence; and with Capt. Seymour on the most profitable mode of reading. With President Dwight he "walked very leisurely, and conversed on various topics, but

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mostly on matrimony," he being particularly interested in that subject at that time. One afternoon he calls at Mr. Pitkin's, who was busy with some law business, "so Mrs. Pitkin said she must be unceremonious enough to ask me into the room where were her friends, Mrs. L. and Mrs. M., seated by a good fire and very social. The conversation turned on the reasoning power of brutes, catching rats, suicide, and various other things." Riding home from Hartford with Mrs. Pitkin, they discourse on the utility of newspapers, on the belittling nature of the ordinary strifes among men. for village distinction, on the character of some public men, especially of John Randolph, and on the Quakers of Philadelphia, among whom Mrs. Pitkin had visited, Soon after Dr. Porter's settlement here, after noting all his wanderings for the day, he says," Walked to the Rev. Mr. Porter's and spent the evening. There was quite a large assemblage, more than a dozen in number. Mrs. Washburn and her sister, Misses Charity Cowles, C. Mix, C. Deming, Mary Ann Cowles, Mary Treadwell, Maria Washburn, and Messrs. Porter, G. Norton, Camp, T. Cowles, W. L. Cowles, T. Root, and Egbert Cowles. The evening was spent in mixed conversation and singing, and the company was treated with cider and walnuts. The subjects of conversation were the Rev. Mr. Huntington's dismission, the character of the Philadelphia clergy and those of New York, the state of piety in the cities of New York and Charleston, the Southern Baptists, and numerous other topics suited to the time and place." Of all the conversations which he so laboriously reported, none can begin to compare for clearness of thought, breadth of range, liberality of sentiment, and nobility of heart and mind, with those of Dr. Eli Todd. He says—"Dr. Todd is hardly willing to rank the pleasures of music with those of sense, for he thinks them intimately connected with the best affections of the heart. At least he believes this pleasure never exists in a high degree except when so connected. When in Trinidad he daily saw a tiger of prodigious fierceness confined in a cage, so rapacious that if a piece of meat were put to him he would instantly tear it into shreds. He played airs on a flute by the cage day after day, and the beast every day seemed less wild, till in a short time he would purr like a cat and roll and rub and be apparently the subject of inexpressible delight." An experience which may have profited the doctor in his new and kindly methods of treating the insane in after life. Again he discourses on " the

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state of society in Farmington, the causes and consequences of the particular form which. Its character takes, and on earthquakes and meteors," On another occasion he talks on the " subject of expensive rural embellishments in reference to Daniel Wads- worth's country seat, and discussed whether it be justifiable to expend one's superfluous wealth in such a way, or in the expensive gratification of a taste for the fine arts. He argued for the affirmative, and insisted that the rich have a right to gratifications as well as the poor," Again he conversed " on those peculiarities of character which mark a simple state of society, holding' that a high cultivation of the intellect, if not a part of virtue, is neces- sary to give to virtue its highest degree of beauty and loveliness, and on whether a state of society devoted to the rural interest or to commerce is to be preferred." Again he discourses " on the kind and degree of evidence by which the Christian revelation is sup- ported," and " on the effects of ardent spirits, and on the threat- ening danger to the country from the prevalent use of them."

The dangers of intemperance to the State were only just be- ginning to force themselves on the attention of thinking men. Deacon Bull, writing an account of the town to be used by Gov. Treadwell in his "Statistical History of Farmington," under the head of vices does not once allude to intemperance. He says : " The number and kind of vices in the town are too many for the compass of my ability to find out or enumerate ; however, there is nothing in this respect distinguishable from other towns of the same age, numbers, and experience. In particular, card-playing and profane swearing are the most prominent vices of the town. The inhabitants, in general, are industrious, sober, and peaceable."

While the men amused themselves with their clubs, moral or conversational, the ladies read at home whatever books came in their way. He who will, may examine the records of the village library and find charged to them the works of Jonathan Edwards and other books which are not often called for in the library of to-day, and whose titles are as unfamiliar to us as most of those we read will be to our children. One devourer of books writes in her diary: "Yesterday, which was Monday, I went to Hartford in the stage with Miss Sally Pierce. . . . Bought a couple of books,— ' Wilberforce's View/ 6,' and 'Memoirs of Miss Susanna Anthony,' 3/6 ; the former, Miss Pierce advised me to purchase." We hear no more of Mr. Wilberforce and his " View," but, on leav- ing the school in Middletown, Mr. Woodbridge presented her with

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"Reflections on Death." Two Sundays afterwards she writes: "Attended meeting all day; read in 'Reflections on Death'; found it very interesting as well as instructive." Here is her ex- perience with a famous novel she got from the library : " Thurs- day evening. Read in ' Sir Charles Grandison,' a novel I don't in- tend to read any more." But she did. Two weeks afterward she wrote : " Saturday. At home. Evening, read In * Grandison." Sunday. Stayed at home ; read In ' Grandison '; had a very bad pain in my head. Monday. As usual. Evening. Read in ' Gran- dison.' " Two weeks later : " Went to Mr. Bull's ... to get the second volume of ' Grandison' which I have read almost through." The Saturday following she writes : "Have been so much reading ' Grandison ' that other things have been neglected." This is the last we hear of Sir Charles. How any mortal could have waded through the one thousand nine hundred and thirty- three octavo pages of that famous book, even with skipping nine pages out of ten, is a mystery to all moderns. In the early days of the library, some one calling at Mr. Ezekiel Cowles's remarks : " Egbert is now reading the ' Lady of the Lake,' which seems to he a very fashionable book about here."

Schools and music, debating clubs, books, and serious conver- sation filled up but a small part of the leisure hours of society. Five o'clock teas and evening parties assembling by invitation were not in vogue. Families were larger than now, and the young people from one house had but to join their cousins across the street to make the liveliest gatherings. Others dropped in, and, somewhere every night, there were dancing and music and games and hearty enjoyment. One favorite meeting-place on a summer evening was the long flight of stone steps which led from the street up to the ever hospitable door of Squire Mix. Another favorite locality involving a somewhat longer walk which some- times had its own attractions, was "The Maples." I think, but am not positive, that this must have been the familiar name of the residence of Gov. Treadwell, the little red house by the side of Poke Brook, near the great rock. Here are a few glimpses of these informal gatherings : "To Gen. Cowles's, where we found a lively little party engaged in a family dance, with a couple of negroes to play for them. Much affability and hilarity." Or, "All the ladies were at Mr. Norton's, and the gentlemen. We played ' Button.' I was mortified by a lad's handing me the but- ton twice following." Again: " Thursday we went to Fanny's.

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All the girls were there, and, among the rest, Miss N—— H——. Tim and Tim were there (afterward Major Timothy Cowles and Major Timothy Root), They proposed trying fortunes. N—— tried hers. (I'll tell you how we try them.) We take a glass and a ring and tie a string around the ring and hold it in the glass and let it strike the glass, and count A, B, C, etc. "N's struck M —— C——." Much previous knowledge seems to have entered into this as into most fortune-telling, for soon afterward it was an- nounced from the pulpit that M —— C—— and N—— H—— in- tend marriage. Even the weekly prayer-meeting had its social side. Here female piety came to hear the teaching of the be- loved Washburn, and here, too, came young men not always of devout reputation. Until near the close of the ministry of Dr. Porter it was the fashion to seat the men on the right side of the hall in evening meetings and the women on the left, in the vain attempt to defy the strongest of nature's laws. When Dr. Porter began his ministry here, a young lady writes : "Mr. Porter ad- dressed the gentlemen and requested them to sit down and wait till the ladies were out of the hall. We arrived safely home with- out any escort, as the gentlemen, alas! could not overtake us. Mr. B —— got to us just as we crossed the street, after a long run- ning." In the winter evenings the young people amused them- selves with sleighrides. Commonly they drove to Southington, stopping at all the inns on the way — at least the boys did — and returning had a supper at Cook's in White Oak, and so home. Occasionally they rode to Solomon Langdon's, stopping, of course, at Thomson's by the way. Those old houses, Langdon's and Cook's, somber enough in our day, have probably seen more of mirth and good cheer than any other two in town. Here are a few specimens of a girl's experiences: "February 23, 1798, . . . We went to Mr. Jonathan Thomson's ; came back. Coming by the meeting-house, the bell rang [9 o'clock, of course]. Down to Mr. Dunham's we went; stayed there about an hour, then down to Mr. Job Lewis's, then to Mr. Selah Lewis's. All abed. Came back to Mr. Dunham's. We stayed there about an hour longer. Got home about 2 o'clock. Got to bed and asleep about 3." One more account must suffice. On the day after Thanksgiving in 1799 they planned a sleighride, but an inopportune rain carried off all the snow ; this, however, made no difference ; they went all the same. " Cleared off at noon ; took the stage and went out to Langdon's to dine. On the back seat were four, S——, F——,

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B——, and myself. Next N—— H——, and D——, and A— M——, Next L——, and M——, N—— H——, G——, and M— Dick Gleason, negro, drove four horses. T—— C, T—— R- T——, and S-—— on horseback. Had a very good dinner, fried fowls, pies, chicken-pies, and cake. There was a live owl there, and after we got seated in the stage it was flung in, and then — what a screaming! Set out to come home and the boys got whip- ping and running horses. Very muddy. You may depend I was frightened. The girls' white cloaks were covered with mud, and Sukey told me this afternoon she had been washing hers and could not get it out. In the evening went to the ball. Had a very good one. Thirteen ladies and. about as many gentlemen." Fif- teen years later we have a picture of social life in Farmington by the same Mr. E. D. Mansfield, who gave us his impressions of the school of Miss Sally Pierce. He says: "In August, 1815, my father took me to Farmington, Conn., to prepare, under a private tutor, to enter college preparatory to the study of law. As this was to me a new and striking life, I will give a little de- scription of it, chiefly for the sake of the inside view I had of New England society. My tutor, Mr. Hooker, was a descendant of one of the old New England families, and had all the characteris- tics of the Puritans ; was very religious and exact in all his duties. He lived on. what had been a farm, but a portion of it had been embraced in the town. Having got forward in the world, he had built a new house. His old house was one of the oldest in the country, large, dark-red, with a long, sharp, projecting roof. This was the residence and schoolroom of the students, and we called it " Old Red." There were about fourteen of us, from nearly as many states. There we lodged and there we recited, while we took our meals at Mr. Hooker's. His son, John, afterward mar- ried Miss Isabella Beecher, now the noted Mrs. Isabella Hooker.* '' Mr. Hooker was a deacon in the church — the church, I say, emphatically, for it was the only one in the village — a monument remaining to the old and unquestioned orthodoxy of New Eng- land. It stood on the little green, its high, sharp spire pointing to heaven. The pastor of that church was Mr. Porter, who preached there for nearly half a century [sixty years]. He was the father of the present Noah Porter, president of Yale College.

* Mrs. Hooker's friends would hardly recognize her by this name, as she invariably writes her name Isabella Beecher Hooker. — J. H.

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Mr. Hooker took a large pew for the students, and he told us to make notes of the sermon, upon which he questioned us. I was always thankful for this exercise, for I got into such a habit of an- alyzing discourses that, if the speaker had any coherence at all, I could always give the substance of the sermon or address. This is, to a newspaper man, a useful talent, I have tried to discover what was the religious effect of this continual hearing and analyz- ing sermons, "but could not find any. Such exercises become a habit, and are purely intellectual, A striking figure is sometimes remembered, but any spiritual effect is wanting 011 young people who have not learned to think seriously. I remember one of Mr. Porter's illustrations of the idea of death, which I think he must have taken from Sir Walter Scott's 'Talisman.' At any rate Scott has beautifully described it in that work. It is that of Sala- din, who, in the midst of the most splendid fete, surrounded by his chiefs, had the black banner unfolded, on which was inscribed, ' Saladin, remember thou must die !' Mr. Porter was more than half a century minister in that parish, and a most successful cler- gyman, honored in his life and in his death. Such was the minis- tration of the church to me, but I must say that in the service the chief objects of my devotiou were the bright and handsome girls around. At that time, and to a great degree yet in a New Eng- land village, out of the great stream of the world, its young women were the largest part of the inhabitants, and by far the most interesting. The young men usually emigrated to the cities of the West, in the hopes of making fortunes. The old people were obliged to remain to take care of the homesteads, and the young women stayed also.

" No place illustrated this better than Farmington, where there were at least five young women to one young man. The advent of the students was, of course, an interesting event to them. And a young gentleman in his nineteenth year was not likely to escape wholly the bright shafts which, however modestly directed, he was sure to encounter. I soon became acquainted with these young ladies, and never passed a pleasanter time than when days of study were relieved by evenings in their society. My father went with me to Farmington and introduced me to the Hon. Tim- othy Pitkin. This gentleman was then a very distinguished man. He was one of the leading men of the old Federal party. He was sixteen years a representative from the State of Connecticut, and had written a very good book on the civil history and statistics of

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this country. He was a plain man of the old school, living in an old-fashioned house near the church. In two or three weeks after I had been in ' Old Red,' Mr. Pitkin called upon me and said his daughters would be glad to see me on a certain evening. Of course I accepted ; and on that evening, arrayed in my unrivaled blue coat, with brass buttons, cravated and prinked, according to the fashion, I presented myself at Mr. Pitkin's. It was well I had been accustomed to good society, for never was there a greater demand for moral courage. On entering the parlor I saw one young man leaning on the mantel-piece, and around the room (for I counted them) were eighteen young ladies ! During the evening my comrade and self were reinforced by two or three stu- dents, but five made the whole number of young men who ap- peared during the evening. The gentleman who was in the room when I entered it was Mr. Thomas Perkins of Hartford, who after- ward married Miss Mary Beecher, the daughter of Dr. Lyman Beecher. The town of Farmington furnished but one beau dur- ing the evening, and I found out afterward that there were but two or three in the place ; I mean in that circle of society. This was perhaps an extreme example of what might have been found in all the villages of New England, where, in the same circle of society, there were at least three girls to one young man. You may be sure that when I looked upon that phalanx of eighteen young women, even the assurance of a West Point cadet gave way. But the perfect tact of the hostess saved me from trouble. This was Miss Ann Pitkin, now Mrs. Denio, her husband being Mr. Denio, late Chief-Justice of New York. Miss Pitkin evidently saw my embarrassment, which was the greater from my being near-sighted. She promptly came forward, offered me a chair, and, introducing me to the ladies, at once began an animated con- versation. In half an hour I felt at home, and was ever grateful to Miss Pitkin.

"I will mention here, as one of the characteristics of New England manners, that Mr. and Mrs. Pitkin never once entered the room on this occasion, and the older people never appeared at any of the parties or sleighrides given by the young people, or at any gatherings not public. This was contrary to the cus- tom of my father's house, where people of all ages attended the parties, and my mother was the most conspicuous person and the most agreeable of entertainers. . . The evening passed pleasantly away, and I was launched into Farmington society.

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As there were only three of us at the close of the entertainment, to escort the young ladies home, it was fortunate that Farmington was built almost entirely in one street, so one of us took the girls who went down street; one, those who went up the street, and a third those who branched off. Of these young ladies more than half bore one name, that of Cowles. 1 was told there were in that township three hundred persons of the name of Cowles. There were on the main street five families of brothers, in all of which I visited, and to whom I was indebted for many pleasant hours. The time had now come for me to leave Farmington. My sleighrides, my parties, my pleasant visits, and, alas! my pleasant friends, were to be left forever. My path lay in differ- ent and sometimes far less pleasant scenes. I well remember the bright morning on which I stood on Mr. Pitkin's step, bidding farewell to my kind and gentle friend, Mary Pitkin,* Married and moved away, she soon bade farewell to this world, where she seemed, like the morning flower, too frail and too gentle to survive the frost and the storm."

The vast range of amusements which now enter largely into social life were scarcely known sixty years ago. School exhibi- tions were the nearest approach to the theater, and card parties were held of doubtful morality. Deacon Bull, compiling material for Gov. Treadwell to use in his " Statistical History of Farming- ton," wrote what he knew of the amusements of the village, though both worthies probably knew less of amusements than of theology. He writes : " Their diversions and amusements are various, according to their different ages. The former genera- tions had for their amusements the more athletic exercises, such as wrestling, hopping, jumping, or leaping over walls or fences, balls, quoits, and pitching the bar, also running and pacing horses, especially on public days when collected from all parts of the town. Some of these diversions are still in fashion, especially balls, but the most polite and fashionable amusements now are dancing at balls or assemblies, card-playing, and backgammon. There are also hunting and fishing, both by hook and seine. The mountains afford plenty of game, such as squirrels, partridges,

* Afterward the wife of John T. Norton, a native of Farmington, to which place he returned to reside before reaching middle age, after a period of very successful business in Albany. His wife died early. She was the mother of Prof. John P. Norton of Yale College, who also died before reaching middle age.-J. H.

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and some turkeys and foxes. The river abounds with plenty of small fish, such as pike, trout, dace, etc. In this diversion gentle- men and ladies both unite, and in the pleasant part of the summer ride out to the most agreeable part of the meadow near the mar- gin of the river, where are delightful shade trees with green and pleasant herbage for the accommodation of a large number of people to walk, fish, or eat, which renders the amusement delightful." Another out-of-door amusement was the Annual Field Day. This is how it impressed a quiet, unmilitary specta- tor. " September 25. Some rain. Review Day. Street full of men and horses and carriages and mud, etc. A regiment of cav- alry was out and a part of the regiment of infantry. Afternoon. The troops marched off into the meadow and the town was quiet for two or three hours." A young girl observes, "In the after- noon rode out in the stage upon the Plain with seventeen in the stage. Stayed a few hours and became quite tired of field day. I was shocked to see the indelicacy with which some of my sex appeared. It wounded, my delicacy to see girls of seventeen en- circled in the arms of lads. From the field I repaired to the ball. I returned home about 12."

The most imposing anniversary was Independence Day, not then a day of license and vandalism, but a day when the old soldiers who knew well what independence cost, gathered with those who shared with them the blessing of freedom, and listened to the story of their valor, their sufferings, and their glorious vic- tory, and all unitedly offered up to the God of Nations a people's thanksgiving. The exercises were the reading of the Declaration of Independence, prayer, an oration, and a patriotic anthem. The young people closed the day with a ball, and their elders had a dinner with formal toasts and much good cheer. Perhaps a school girl's' account of one celebration is quite as good as the more formal reports occasionally given in the newspapers. "'Wednesday the cannon arrived. Some of the artillery are expected. Friday went to the meeting-house at the time set, 11 o'clock. There I was an hour and a half or more before the troops arrived, who were all dressed in uniform and looked extremely well. They sang at meeting first Berkely ; Dr. Todd and Hooker and Mr. Seymour played on their instruments. Next, Mr. Washburn made an excellent prayer, prayed that we might be truly thankful that our country still maintained its inde- pendence, and that if any came to meeting that day more for the

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amusements of the day than for praise of God, that they might be pardoned. Next, Uncle Solly ascended the pulpit and read in their law book [the Declaration of Independence], Next came Dr. Todd with, his oration. It was a very good one, indeed. The exercises closed with a hymn which was composed for the occasion by Dr. Dwight, and sung to the tune of New One Hun- dred, written by Birkenhead's brother. Returned home and soon went back to the tea party opposite Mr. Wadsworth's. There was another in the next lot south. Danced until twelve, when the ball broke up. One hundred and fifty dined under a bowery at Grid- ley's." Thanksgiving, the best enjoyed of all old-time anniver- saries, is briefly alluded to by the same person as follows: " Tues- day. Thanksgiving is coming and we are making preparations. We keep three days. Wednesday ; have finished twenty-one pyes and some cake. I wished for your assistance to flour the tarts. Thursday attended meeting. The first I heard was ' Marriage is intended between Robert Porter and Roxanna Root, both of this place.' Heard a most excellent sermon by Mr. Washburn,, in which he exhorted us in a most pathetic manner to embrace the gospel. The parties were married in the evening. Timothy carried round the cake and wine."

Weddings were mostly informal. We have one reported by Mr. Hooker, then a tutor in Yale College. "Attended the wed- ding of Richard Cowles and Fanny Deming at Mrs. Deming's. Large concourse of relations and friends, perhaps sixty. Not much ceremony. The parties were seated in the room when the company arrived. None stood up with them, but Mr. Camp and Caroline sat near them, and, after the ceremony, handed round two courses of cake, three of wine, and two of apples. The com- pany in the different rooms then conversed half an hour, then those who could sing, collected and sung very handsomely a number of psalm tunes, and half an hour after had quite a merry cushion dance. I came away about nine, leaving still a large number capering around the cushion." Some of our older people may be able to explain the nature of a cushion dance, if they care to confess their youthful follies. I have an invitation given some time afterward to a wedding for Wednesday evening at 7 o'clock, 011 which the recipient years afterward wrote, ' A large assembly and a very pleasant evening, several college acquaint- ances present. After the old folks had gone we had a fine cush- ion dance, according to the fashion of our old Puritan fathers.'

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At this latter wedding some one took Deacon Richards to task for drinking wine. ' Sir,' said the solemn deacon, 'I have the highest authority for drinking wine at weddings," and, forthwith, drained his glass like the old soldier he was.

Ordinations with their solemn rites, their good cheer, and their closing ball, were notable days in the land, In this town they came about once in two generations. The Rev. John Richards, writing to his children years afterward, gives his recollections of one. "Dr. Porter," he says, "was ordained Nov. 5, 1806. I remember well how he looked in the pulpit, and how Dr. Dwight looked with his green spectacles while preaching the sermon. I sat directly behind Mr. Roberts, the singing master. Just before the close of the sermon Caty Mix fainted, ' There,' said Mr. Roberts to Col. Tillotson, ' we lose one of our best singers.' But they sang the Ordination Anthem notwithstanding, well. I was in raptures, especially at the verse:

'The saints unable to contain
Their inward joys shall shout and sing;
The Son of David here shall reign,
And Zion triumph in her king.'

I knew not then, as I did long afterwards, the meaning of the words."

Besides these solemn festivals, other diversions of a lighter character occasionally though rarely enlivened the quiet of village life. Mr, Hooker records: "Dec. 12th. Snowy day. A large, tawny lion, a tall and beautiful Peruvian llama, an ostrich, and two or three monkeys were exhibited at Phelps's inn. To gratify my little daughter and son, I took them thither to see the animals. John rode the llama about the barn, while the keeper led the ani- mal and I steadied the rider." Other occasional amusements, in which society of to-day does not indulge, sometimes came within reach of an easy drive from the village. In the same journal we read: "Tuesday, June 1, 1824. Very dry and warm, but other- wise pleasant. After early breakfast I took John and his cousin Samuel with me in the chaise and rode fifteen miles north to the town of Tolland, to witness the awful scene of an Indian man ex- ecuted for murder. We arrived there about ten, and, after put- ting out the horse at Col. Smith's inn, walked up the hill half a mile to view the gallows and other preparations, and returned to the village which, by this time, had become filled with company.

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Probably seven or eight thousand (and some say ten or twelve thousand) people were there. . . . The cavalry were on white horses and made an Impressive show in the procession. There was a variety of musical instruments, drums, fifes, bassoons and bass viols, clarionets, etc."*

One of New England's proud anniversaries was the college commencement. To this came the best culture of the land to do honor to the embryo statesmen and divines as they exhibited their learning in some unknown tongue to admiring parents and friends. The first student in Yale who arrived at the honor of a bachelor's degree was a Fartnington boy, and the first tutor was our second minister's! son. The town has very frequently been represented on the commencement stage, but New Haven was a far country and too inaccessible to make the anniversary a popu- lar one. Col. Isaac Cowles writes to his son about the difficulty of getting him. home at the end of the college term : "I spoke to

*I remember well the incident which my father has here related. The cousin who was with me was Samuel S. Clarke of Columbia, Conn., who was at school at Mr. Hart's academy at Farmington, and was a member of our family. I was, at the time, 8 years old, and he 10. This paragraph from my father's journal is interesting as showing the great change in public opinion with regard to executions from that which prevailed at that time. The curios- ity to witness such an awful spectacle was not a little barbarous and morbid, but there was a general feeling that such exhibitions would make a deep moral impression and be a strong deterrent from crime. It was with that feeling, I have no doubt, that my father took my cousin and myself to see this execu- tion. There was a vast concourse of people from miles distant. The gallows was erected at the top of a hillock, where it could be seen by the surrounding thousands. There was not one in the great assemblage who could not see the wretched murderer swinging in the air. My father was not only very ten- der-hearted, but full of good sense with regard to such matters, and it is some surprise to me that he took us to see the distressing sight. It is to be said, as some excuse for the general desire to witness it, that it was a very rare thing that, executions had taken place in this State, and there may have been some special atrocity in the perpetration of the crime that created an unusual inter- est on the part of the public in seeing the criminal punished. I was once tell- ing the late Judge Waldo, of our Superior Court, about my attending the exe- cution as a boy, when he told me that he was there. He must have been about 20 at the time. I have never seen the time when I would have taken my son to witness an execution, or would willingly have looked upon one myself. — J. H.
Rev. Samuel Hooker, son of Thomas Hooker, the first minister at Hart- ford. He was settled over the Farmington church from 1760 till 1797, dying in his pastorate.— J. H.

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Mr. W—— the other day respecting your getting home. He will lead down the bay mare for you to ride back. In that case you cannot bring your trunk home," At the end of next term he writes : " We send a few lines by Mr, C. Hope he will be sober when he delivers them. May he be a warning to you and all other youth. The Farmington East India Company will probably be loading their ship at vacation if the snow continues till that. time. If not, shall get you home some other way. You must be a good boy. Don't let us hear any bad report of you," A young miss who mourned because her mother thought her too young to attend the Yale commencement the next summer, writes how her neighbors went to a similar entertainment: "The quality of Hartford and some of Farmington have gone to Dartmouth Col- lege to spend the commencement, viz., Chauncey Gleason, wife and daughter, Polly Cowles, and Sally Gleason, in one hack with a driver, and black Dick on horseback to officiate as servant. Mr. Howe and Mrs. Dolly Norton in a chaise." This repeated men- tion of "Black Dick " suggests the relation of society to the labor problem of those days, then, as always, an unsolved one. Who did the household drudgery then ? Not labor-saving machin- ery. Not white servants. You might hire some strong- armed girl to do some well-defined work, such as spinning or weaving, for a limited time, but on an absolute social equal- ity with the daughters of the house. Most families were large, and the work was divided among all the members, who thus became notable housekeepers in their turn. Indians could not be made servants of. They were removed too few generations from their untamed ancestors to bear dictation or continuous labor. The only servants were the blacks. The probate records of this town, which begin in 1769, show bequests of such valuable pieces of property as "A negro woman and boy as slaves." . . . "A negro man called Daff." , . . "A negro man called Gad." . . . " My negro boy called Cambridge." I have an original bill of sale, of which this is a copy: "Know all men by these presents that I, Samuel Talcott Junr. of Hartford, for the consid- eration of twenty-six pounds, ten shillings, to me paid or secured to be paid, have bargained and sold to James Wadsworth of Farmington one negro girl about the age of six years, named Candace, warranted sound and healthy and free from any claim of other person or persons, and the same warranted a slave for life. Dated at Hartford, September 30th, 1763." These un-

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fortunate laborers, or fortunate as some thought them, were a few of them imported from the West Indies, but most came from Newport, which our Quaker brethren made the center of the New England slave trade. In 1711 slave-owners were compelled to support the slave in his old age, and not set him at liberty to take care of himself. In 1774 the importation of slaves was forbidden. Ten years later it was enacted that all born after 1784 should be free at the age of twenty-five, and in 1797 all when they arrived at the age of twenty-one. Black servants, therefore, in the period of which we write, were not slaves. Such was our fathers' solu- tion of a difficult problem. The labor problem is still with us, and still we look forward to the final solution at the Millenium with great diversity of expectation.

No account of the social life of the village which leaves out the religious side can be complete. That, however, has been so fully and fairly treated of in the Half Century Discourse of Dr. Porter, that any attempt to add to or condense his account of what he more than all others was most qualified to write, seems presumptuous. One great change, however, in religious thought, since he wrote, cannot be overlooked. From 1821 to 1851 he records ten revivals, those great awakenings which in quick suc- cession spread over the community, gathering all classes from their ordinary avocations, some in ecstatic elevation of soul and some in abject terror. That phase of religious belief can hardly be understood by the present generation. We now hear from the pulpit more of character and less of eternal punishment, more of the love of God and less of his wrath. Truth is eternal and the same. The same things are true to-day as two generations ago, but preachers and hearers alike do not universally and heartily believe the same things.

Such is an imperfect account of social life in the first part of this century. I have said little about it, preferring to leave the actors in the drama to tell their own tale in their own words. Of all the old diaries and letters which have furnished material for this paper, much the most valuable is the journal of Mr. Edward Hooker, some parts of which have been printed, but which ought to be published in its entirety. Other diaries afford vivid pictures of the times which have not been given to the public, will not be, I trust, and ought not to be. Every girl began one almost as soon as she could write. Here they recorded the events of every day, all their love affairs with great minuteness, and their

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most sacred thoughts and aspirations. One of them began : "Diary. In the eleventh year of her age. To thee I will relate the events of my youth, I will endeavour to excel in learning and correct my faults so that I may be enabled to look backward with pleasure and forward with hope." And right well did she keep her resolutions until death early laid his hand on her as on many of the brilliant circle of her companions, and with trembling hand she records her last farewell to him she would have married, the last kindly words of Dr. Todd, and the last consolations of the saintly Washburn.

I have read with so great interest the admirable article of Mr. Gay that I cannot forbear to add a page or two with regard to rny father and my own home life. I have spoken of him briefly in my introduction. There were a few men of education and refinement in l^armington in my early boyhood, who with him made up a very choice circle of intimate friends. Of these Dr. Eli Todd was perhaps the most brilliant. My father was very fond of him and deeply mourned his death a few years later when at the head of the insane asylum at Hartford. The Cowles brothers, who became the wealthy people of Farmington, were men of little cultivation, but of very great business enterprise and ability. It was generally reported and believed that they had made half a million in their business, and I think it was so. When the five brothers dissolved their partnership a few years later it was generally understood that each took $100,000 as his share. This was a large sum for that time. They and their families were much given to free living and extrava- gance. With their relatives they gave a character to the town. My father had no fondness for display and no sympathy with them in their habits in this respect, although one of the five brothers married his sister. He had a com- petence, but nothing that could sustain extravagance. My recollection of our home life is of abundance, but of very plain living. Our clothes were made from the wool of our own sheep, which was fulled and woven at a mill within the town into a strong gray cloth, which was then made into suits of clothing by tailoresses who came around regularly for the season's work at our house. My father's clothes were made of the same material. He had a nice broadcloth suit for Sunday and public occasions, but I think his ordinary suits were cut by a tailor and made up by the tailoress. With this plain living we had a most healthful and inspiring mental life. My father was a rare Latin and Greek scholar, and began quite early to teach me those languages. I recollect well how, when I was a beginner in Latin, he asked me to read some book which I happened to be then reading, and how I, with much pride, answered " Ego sum." I meant by the " I am " to be understood as saying " I am reading that book." He laughed and then explained to me that "Ego sum " meant only " I am" in the sense of " I exist," and that I ought to have answered in some word meaning "I read." This illustrates his way of cor-

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recting my early blunders. We had also at this time a study of English at our table. If any one of us children made a mistake either in our use of a word or in OUT grammar, he would instantly call our attention to it, and, by a rule which had been adopted for such cases, the one making the mistake was allowed a minute to correct it, and, he failing, any other of the children had the right to do so, and finally, all failing, he would himself correct the error and explain wherein it consisted. An account was kept among us. A failure corrected by the blunderer went for nothing, but if another child corrected it, the fact was set down to his credit and to the debit of the other. There was no forfeiture, but we all felt a great desire to have our account, when ex- hibited, a creditable one. We had at that time a table full of children, some cousins of mine, children of my father's sister, always attending the Farming- ton Academy as they became old enough, and finding a hospitable and pleasant home with us, We had rarely, through all my youth, fewer than two of them at a time.

I should perhaps make a wrong impression if I should be understood as reflecting at all upon the intelligence of the people of the town who did not belong to the ambitious and fashionable circle, nor to that of the highly educated and cultivated. They were generally intelligent, availing themselves of all the opportunities for education that then existed, and very generally patronizing the village library. This association held monthly meetings on a Sunday evening at the librarian's, where the members drew out several books for the month. These meetings were quite largely attended by the older people in the parlor and by us boys in the kitchen. They were very enjoyable times, and 1 rarely failed to attend with my father. The services on Sunday, in the Congregational church, the only one in the village, were largely attended. The huge church was always well filled, and very few stayed away. The out- lying districts for several miles had no other place of worship, and their resi- dents came in large wagons and carriages, generally whole families coming and bringing all their children.

My father appears by his journal to have been very familiar with the fashionable people of the town, and with the attractive young women, of whom there were so many; but he never had a particle of their love of display and was never moved a particle from his simplicity of life.

Such a home life makes a great and abiding impression on a child of Ordinary intelligence, and it saddens me to think how little is left of it for the coming generations, J. H.

THE EARLY ABOLITION MOVEMENT.

Several friends who have read the printed sheets of my book have strongly advised me to add a chapter on my personal knowl- edge of and participation in the abolition movement in New England, and I add a few pages 011 that subject.

After a few years of unsettled life, nearly two of them on the sea and two in studying law in New Haven and Hartford, I settled in Farmington in 1840. I was then twenty-four years old. Before that time I had not taken much interest in the anti-slavery move- ment, though I had attended a few public meetings of the abo- litionists, but I now looked thoroughly into the question and became convinced that they were in the right and that it was my plain duty to join them. The whole movement was extremely unpopular, though it had gained many friends and supporters since William Lloyd Garrison began, in 1831, the publication of The Liberator. This paper he had most of the time published in Boston, where he encountered the most violent opposition, both from respectable people and from the populace. Mr. William F. Gordy, in his recently published and most admirable compendium of the history of the United States, speaks of him and of the abolition movement at this time as follows:

"The opposition to Garrison's teachings became so intense that he was mobbed in the streets of Boston in 1835. The mob in its fury had almost torn the clothing from his body and was dragging him through the streets with a rope around his waist, when he was saved from death by the police. Elijah P. Lovejoy was mobbed and murdered in Illinois in 1837 for printing an abolition newspaper, and abolition speakers became accustomed to showers of eggs and stones at public meetings. But in spite of all the scorn and contempt heaped upon them, in the North and in the South, the heroic William Lloyd Garrison and his brave followers would not be silenced. They were, like most reformers, extreme in their views and unwise in their methods, but they were right in their leading idea that slavery was wrong. Their sincerity of purpose had its influence and won the sym- pathy of many, who joined in forming abolition societies, which by 1837 included probably 150,000 members. Among them were two of the ablest defenders of the anti-slavery crusade, Wendell

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Phillips, the anti-slavery orator, and John Quincy Adams, the anti-slavery statesman,"

The New York Nation said, some time ago, in an article on Garrison, that no one not living; at that time could have any idea of the state of public opinion prevailing during the early part of his work; it was a few fanatics on one side and all society on the other. Harrison Gray Otis, the Boston statesman, on being asked by some anxious citizen who had great confidence in his political wisdom, whether there was any clanger that this abolition move- ment would succeed, replied that there was no clanger at all, for, said he, "all the journals in the country are opposed to it, and there's only one paper that advocates it, and that is published by a fanatic and a nigger."

At an anti-slavery meeting held one evening in the lecture room of the Congregational church in Farmington, which was well filled, and addressed by Rev. Amos Phelps, one of the gentlest and most moderate, yet most impressive of speakers, a stone was thrown with great violence through the window back of the desk at which he was speaking, which passed close by his head, and went across the hall to the wall on the other side. The miscreant who threw it must have meant to hit Mr, Phelps's head, but fortunately it missed it, and failed to hit any of the audience. I saw this myself. A majority of the audience were women. Some of the best of the Farmington people, both men and women, had early become interested in the movement, and the village was one of the best known stations on what was known as the "Underground Railroad." This name was given to villages where fugitive slaves were sheltered and helped on their way. They were always harbored there and helped. Some remained there and worked for the farmers, relying on their protecting them or helping them to escape if any attempt should be made to capture them. Among these were some very smart young men. I remember particularly one named Henry, I forget his other name, who lived a long time with one of our citizens, and was much liked by everybody who knew him. He was fine looking, manly, and energetic. After he had been in Farmington for several months a fugitive slave from his old home in South Caralina came along, and told him how, after his (Henry's) escape the year before, his master had charged his old mother with aiding him to escape, and had given her a terrible flogging on her bare body. This so exasperated him that he determined to go

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back to South Carolina and comfort his mother, as well as take revenge on his old master by helping other slaves to escape. He went back, saw and comforted his old mother, and got up a com- pany of eight slaves, who started north under his guidance. They had all sorts of perils and escapes on the way, but all got through and made their way to Canada, except one, whom they buried on the way. This was the wife of a young man in the company. She was about to have a child and soon became unable to walk, and her husband and Henry took turns in carrying her. Each made a seat for her with his hands clasped behind his back, and she sat in this seat, with her back against his. They had traveled thus for several nights until, worn out with weariness and anxiety, she was unable to go further, and they all stopped for her to die, and then buried her in the darkness in a secluded spot, and went on their anxious and perilous way.

I remember another fugitive, who, during his short stop in Farmington, told a group of us this story. He was born and raised in Virginia, and married a slave girl there who belonged to his master, and had three or four small children. At this time slaves were raised in Virginia to be sold for the cotton fields of the South, a large business of that sort being carried on. This negro was working in a field, when a slave trader came along and bought him and several other negroes of his master. They were attached to a coffle of slaves that the trader was taking along, being handcuffed and fastened together. He was not allowed to go home to see his family or to get anything to take with him, but as the come passed his cabin, quite a distance away, his wife saw him and ran out screaming towards him. The trader upon this drew out his pistol, and, pointing it towards her, threatened to shoot her if she came another step. She stopped and the coffle passed by, too far off for him to call to his wife, and he never saw her or his children again.

We heard many such stories, some of them very thrilling, from the fugitives who came through Farmington, and these stories, heard by us, or read in The Liberator, brought many friends to the cause.

Mr. Gordy, in the passage which I have quoted from his excel- lent history, says of the abolitionists that " they were like most reformers, extreme in their views and unwise in their methods." They were men and women who were thoroughly in earnest, and not very conciliatory in their utterances, but perhaps few of their

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methods ran more against a settled prejudice of the public than their employing women speakers as advocates of their cause. Among these speakers was Abby Kelly, a young married woman, who went about on lecturing tours with her husband, himself a speaker, I repeatedly heard her, and she has never been sur- passed as an effective speaker by any of the eloquent women to whom the public listens so patiently and even delightedly to-day. But we can see how offensive it was to the prevailing sense of propriety, in the fact that a large part of the abolitionists, who were enlisted in the cause, and were true and earnest reformers, left the American Anti-Slavery Society because of it, and formed a new association called the American and Foreign Anti-Slavery Society. They were also extreme in their views, according to the prevailing opinions with regard to slavery, but a little incident shows how they were unjustly judged by their opponents, who had, far more than they, the ear of the public and almost total control of the journals of the day. Dr. Bailey, a few years later, published an anti-slavery paper in Washington. He was a man of remarkable ability as an editor, fair minded and courteous, and greatly respected by his brother journalists of Washington. It was in this paper that Mrs. Stowe's " Uncle Tom's Cabin " was first published as a serial. Dr. Bailey in one of his issues gave a clear and condensed statement of his position towards slavery. The other editors of the city were so struck with his reason- ableness and moderation that they at once commended his article for its fairness, though of course not agreeing with him in his condemnation of slavery, but they said, why could not the first abolitionists have been so moderate and reasonable—instead of stirring up mobs and violence by their extreme claims. Dr. B. waited for them to commit themselves fully on this point, and then said in his paper that what he had published as his position on the slavery question was taken from the constitution of the first anti-slavery society.

My father was very decided in his condemnation of slavery, but had great fear of what would come from the emancipation of the slaves, and of the exasperation of the South over the assault upon it by the abolitionists. He had lived at the South and had warm friends there. He had while there, at a dinner given to some public men, expressed in a toast the hope that the time would come when there would not be a slave in the country, upon which one of the guests replied by saying that he hoped he

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should be under the turf first. Yet I became an avowed aboli- tionist before he did. His brother John, who was a leading law- yer in Columbia, South Carolina, with whom my father studied law, and with whom he expected to go into partnership, would never own a slave. {Ante p. 239.)

The free blacks of the North were generally held in contempt except by the anti-slavery people, who did what they could to elevate them and secure them fair treatment. I remember that at one time, about 1840, a respectable-looking and decently-clad black man came into the Sunday-school of which I was superin- tendent, and took a seat near the door. I went to him, after the session closed, and asked him if he would go over to the church with me. He said he would, and I took him over and gave him a seat in my pew. Such a sight had probably never been seen in that church before. There had been, as in most of the churches in Connecticut, a negro pew, close by the door on the lower floor, and in the gallery, and probably no negro had before sat elsewhere in our church. Everybody stared, but there was no other demonstration of displeasure, but after the service one of the church members told me I had done more to break up the church than anything that had happened since it was estab- lished. Yet it was not over five years later that Rev. Dr. Por- ter, our pastor, exchanged with Rev. Mr. Pennington of Hart- ford, one of the blackest of negroes, and we were all astonished at seeing the pulpit thus occupied.

Of course, on starting as a lawyer in Farmington, I encountered much unfriendliness from those who were bitter against the anti- slavery movement. A relative of mine, then a middle-aged man and a leading lawyer in the state, who was one of the last of men to interpose his advice, said to me that he must advise me as to the course I was taking in identifying my- self with the abolitionists — that they were so unpopular that it would very seriously injure my chances of getting into business. I felt, however, that if I turned my back on the abolition move- ment I should be a traitor to God and man, and I saw no way but to go on as I had begun. It very likely made it slower work for me to get into business, but I do not think it made any very seri- ous difference — certainly none in the end, and indeed I think I have stood better for it in all my later life. In 1850, I was elected by the abolition voters of Farmington to the House of Represent- atives in the state legislature, the only time that I was ever a

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member of that body. There were about forty anti-slavery voters In town and they held the balance of power, and so managed as to carry in their candidate after a number of ballotings.

I now look back with much satisfaction at that early effort to do my duty and to aid a cause of vast consequence to the country, and the success of which has been, perhaps, its greatest blessing.

I ought not, however, to take to myself much credit for the stand 1 took in this matter. My convictions were decided, and by a necessity of my nature dominated me, but I was devoting myself earnestly to my profession, and did not give to this cause the time and zeal that so many others did. The hardest and most trying part of the work had been done by those who began it nearly ten years before,

I ought, injustice to my brother-in-law, Hon, Francis Gillette, afterwards a member of the United States Senate, to state that he was one of the earliest abolitionists, a man of great earnestness and one of the most eloquent speakers of the time. J. H.

MRS. MARY HOOKER BURTON'S LETTER TO
MRS. MARY CLEMMER AMES IN DEFENSE OF HER MOTHER.

I was about closing my volume with the next preceding article, when it occurred to me that I ought to include a letter which our daughter, Mrs. Mary H. Burton, wrote in 1871 to Mrs. Mary Clem- mer Ames of Washington in reference to an article written by the latter grossly misrepresenting and ridiculing some action of her mother when attending a woman-suffrage convention at Washington. Mrs. Burton's death in 1886, at the age of forty, was an almost overwhelming affliction to us, and remains a great and abiding sorrow. It is due to her memory that this earnest defense of her mother should be preserved, while it is to the latter a richly-deserved tribute.

The convention was largely attended, A petition had been presented to Congress asking for legislation in favor of woman suffrage, and a committee of Congress had invited them to appear before it and advocate their petition in person. A large repre-

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sentation of women assembled in an ante-room of the Capitol and were waiting for the time for going before the committee, when some one proposed that they have a prayer for God's bless- ing on their effort. Others at once concurred, and Mrs, Hooker was called upon to pray. She did so, offering a most reverent and fervent petition to God. Mrs, Ames was at this time an able and popular correspondent of a New York paper. She was not present at this meeting, but she gave what purported to be a description of it for her paper, letting loose her too facile wit as she did so, describing in a grotesque way the personal appearance and manner of Mrs. Hooker as she prayed. The amusing article went the rounds of the press and was seen by Mrs, Burton, In her indignation at the treatment of her mother she wrote the fol- lowing letter to Mrs. Ames:

MRS, MARY CLEMMER AMES.

Dear Madam: —

Will you permit the daughter of Mrs. Isabella Beecher Hooker to address you?

I read yesterday the enclosed extract from a New York paper. When you used your ready wit to make a clever sketch of Mrs. Hooker you of course knew that however you might entertain scores of readers, you must necessarily wound many to whom she is near and dear; but I venture to believe you did not know how cruelly unjust you were to Mrs. Hooker herself. If you knew her in daily life as tender mother and devoted wife, loving grandmother and loyal friend, how differently you would have spoken of her. Seeing her with her children you would think: "This woman lives only for her children"; with her hus- band, you would say, "What an ideal marriage! Was ever wife so devoted or husband so appreciative before? "— as housekeeper you would say: "What executive ability she shows! no detail of house or grounds but is under her supervision" ; as hostess, among the greenery of her petted plants, in her bright parlors, you would say, "How genial! How motherly!" —in her library, at her desk, if you looked over her shoulder, you would find her reading carefully on a score of subjects besides woman suffrage, and, if you watched long enough, you would surely say: "In what science, art or philosophy is she not interested? Suffrage is but one of the subjects upon which that busy brain and large heart are working." If you were a neighbor and sick, you would send for her first of all, knowing her presence of mind in an emer- gency and the infinite tenderness of her heart. As she would be the first to come to you so would she be the last to leave you. If you were poor and in trouble you would turn to her as surely as the magnet to the pole. If you were her friend you would rest secure, knowing that she would never change, and that, whatever others might say of you, she would be loyal to the last. If you

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were her enemy you might also rest secure ; she would never stab you, never bear malice, and would forgive you and forgive you.

The question of woman suffrage is little discussed in our family. My mother is content to have each one hold her own opinion, I have never heard my mother speak in public. But, knowing the woman, I know you have misrepresented both her manner and speech. Whatever she does she does with her whole heart, but that she would appear other than an earnest, womanly, modest woman, absorbed in (to her) a great cause, is impossible. That you have represented her otherwise to thou- sands of readers who can never see and know her will some day be a matter of regret to you, if you ever come to know her as she is.

If you were yourself less of a true woman than I think you are, I never should have addressed you. Your name is associated only with honor, respect, and cleverness as a writer ; therefore I felt the stab of your pen the more keenly; therefore I appeal to you to guard your sparkling wit, lest it scorch where it should only illuminate.

I am, dear madam, very truly yours,

MARY HOOKER BURTON."

Mrs. Burton was much disappointed at receiving no answer from Mrs. Ames, who took no notice of the letter. It was after- wards ascertained through a friend at Washington that she had duly received it.