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Story of the Hutchinsons,  Vol. 1:   Chapter 1,  "The Tribe of Jesse,"  pp. 1-34.

In these modern times, when thinking minds are not satisfied to take people as they are, but seek for the elements that have contributed to success in state-craft, literature, the pulpit, music and the kindred arts by a study of heredity, a man or a woman is fortunate indeed if he or she can point to a line of ancestry which represents, as in the case of the Hutchinsons, sturdy worth, industry, public spirit and patriotism.

As the reader studies the biographical references that follow this paragraph, and notes how the musical faculty was shown in the various members of our family on the side of both my father and mother, he will, I am sure, find no reason for surprise that we, their children, should have had such success in singing the songs of freedom and progress on two continents. But before speaking of our immediate ancestry, it will be necessary to go back a few centuries, to the beginning of history, so far as our family is concerned.

"In these modern times":   For Hutchinson family genealogy, the basic published work is Perley Derby, The Hutchinson Family; or, the Descendants of Barnard Hutchinson of Cowlam, England (Salem, MA: Essex Institute Press, 1870). Dave Carlsen has posted the material from Perley Derby's book on the Internet at freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~rhutch/

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Bernard Hutchinson, the progenitor of the English branch of the family, was born in Cowlan, county of York, in 1282, during the reign of Edward I. The English records show the line of descent in that country to have been: Bernard, James, James, William, Anthony, Thomas, Lawrence, Thomas, Thomas, Richard.

The family is entitled to bear arms described in heraldic language thus: "Per pale, gules and azure, semée of cross-crosslets or, a lion rampant, argent. Crest, out of a ducal coronet or, a cockatrice with wings indorsed azure; beaked, combed and mottled gules."

The motto is "Gerit Crucem Fortiter." The signification of this is "He bears the cross bravely."

Richard Hutchinson with his wife Alice and four children, emigrated to this country in 1634, and settled in Salem Village, now Danvers, Mass.

The first official notice made of him is in the town records, when it is stated that in recognition of his public spirit, as being the possesor and introducer of the first plow brought into this country, he was granted one hundred and forty acres of land by the town authorities.

He was a thorough agriculturist, and by assiduous devotion to his occupation and economy in living, he acquired a large landed estate, which on his death was divided according to the terms of his will.

He and his wife are recorded as members of the first church in Salem. He married three times, the last when he was seventy-nine years of age. He was born in 1602 and died in the year 1682.

His son Joseph, and three succeeding Josephs, continue the line to Elisha, who was born at Middleton, December 6, 1751. He was of the sixth generation. On November 10, 1772, he married Sarah Buxton, and

"His son Joseph":   "In Richard's son Joseph and his grandson Benjamin, we observe that passionate devotion to the cause of the day, however fanatical, which was also to reappear in later generations, for both of these men took active part in the witchcraft depositions of Salem." [Carol Brink, Harps in the Wind: The Story of the Singing Hutchinsons (New York: Macmillan, 1947), 25.]

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in the year 1779 left Middleton (or Salem) with his wife and children, and removed to, and settled in the beautiful valley of the Souhegan River, near the present site of Milford, N.H., fifty miles from Boston, the town then being called Amherst. Here he took up land and began to follow on his own account, the occupation so long engaged in and made honorable by his ancestors, farming. In 1782 he was living in the southwest parish and was one of the prime movers in building the first meeting-house. He was one of the nineteen original members of the Congregational Church, which was organized November 17, 1788, and was the first clerk of the church, an office he held for several years. He was one of the first to answer his country's call, as a private, in Captain Jeremiah Page's company of militia, at Danvers, which engaged the British at Lexington, on the memorable 19th of April, 1775.

Grandfather came to Milford with his wife and two sons; subsequently a daughter was born. He was one of the first settlers, the place being then a howling wilderness, and the cry of wolves was frequently heard as they passed in close proximity to the rude settlement. Once a moose made his appearance; and on grandfather giving the alarm to his neighbors, they grasped their guns, and with a merry shout gave chase to the huge animal as he bounded away through the woods at lightning speed. It was a long and tiresome chase; but, buoyed up by their elated hopes and the novelty of the affair, the animal was at last driven to narrow quarters on Long Hill, and then he was quickly dispatched, carried home, and equally divided among his pursuers.

In addition to his own estate, he received from his father, by will, seventy-four acres joining westerly on

"Grandfather came to Milford":   The daughter was Sarah Hutchinson. She married William Marvell. I have no further details about her at this time.

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his own bounds. From a rude structure which was demolished, he built the large house, still in existence, in which fourteen of the "Tribe of Jesse, sons of Mary," were born. He died in Milford, October 12, 1800, at the age of forty-nine years.

The two sons of Elisha, Andrew and Jesse, early evinced a taste and love for music. At about the age of fourteen or sixteen they purchased a violin on joint account, and often furnished the music at the farming and husking bees of the surrounding country; but, after some years, becoming dissatisfied with these performances, thinking them demoralizing, they resolved to dissolve partnership in the musical line and earn an honest living on the farm. Not being able to sell the violin so as to divide the proceeds, they decided to divide the instrument, and each made for himself a tobacco-box from his half. No comment is necessary on the moral aspect of this reform. "Consistency, thou art a jewel!"

The boys grew up to manhood on the farm; and Andrew, who was the older by about three years, married a Miss Raymond, of Mont Vernon, and had six children, three sons and three daughters,  -  Nathaniel, Elisha, Stillman, Phoebe, Mary and Martha.

Jesse, who was born February 3, 1778, on August 7, 1800, married Mary Leavitt, who was then only fifteen years old. On the death of the father, which occurred October 12, 1800, the farm was divided between the two boys, Andrew and Jesse, the latter securing the house.

Jesse had a mechanical cast of mind, and was by turns a farmer, cooper, shoemaker and carpenter, as circumstances seemed to favor. He did much of the shoemaking during the earlier years of his family. His expert

"From a rude structure which was demolished":   The "large house" that John Hutchinson mentioned here is the old Hutchinson family homestead in Mont Vernon, New Hampshire. John and all his brothers were born there. Elizabeth and Abby were born at the new homestead, nearby, on North River Road in Milford. In 2004, I heard that the property may have been purchased by a developer. I've never been inside that building nor have I ever heard of anyone who has. Why we don't make more of that house is beyond me. It is, after all, the cot where they were born.

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coopering created considerable commerce from his shop to Boston. On the morning of the famous "shooting stars" he was packing off a four-ox load, for fifty miles to the city of Boston.

Mary, commonly called Polly, Leavitt, born June 25, 1785, was the daughter of Andrew Leavitt, a master-carpenter or builder. In his days the trade of master-carpenter embraced all parts of the structure. He must go to the forest, cut the trees, haul the timber wanted for the structure, take it to the lot, frame and raise each piece to its position, select his timbers for shingles and clapboards, split and shave them by hand; with these and boards he must cover the building, make all the finish-work on doors and windows, do all the joiner-work, oversee the mason, hang the doors and sash, paint inside and out, fix the doors, locks, etc., lock the building and hand the key to the owner.

He was one of the heroes of the Revolution, serving as a faithful soldier during the seven years' struggle. At the battle of Bunker Hill he was one of the three hundred that kept the British at bay; and after the burning of Charlestown, he was detailed as master-mechanic to aid in rebuilding the burned district.

At the close of the war he received an honorable discharge and a pension, awarded by a grateful country in attestation of the high regard in which the thirteen original States held the defenders of the nation. He died at the age of ninety-four.

Deacon John Leavitt, the American progenitor of the family, was born in England in 1620, and died near Exeter, N.H., in 1650. Grandfather was born in Stratham.

The issue of the marriage of Jesse Hutchinson and Polly Leavitt was sixteen children, of whom thirteen

"Deacon John Leavitt, the American progenitor":   That's not the information I have in my records. Possibly a Leavitt family genealogist could help out here. What I have is that the Hutchinson Family singers were descended from John Leavitt who was born at Beverly, Yorkshire County, England, sometime in 1608 and died at Hingham, Plymouth County, Massachusetts, on November 20, 1691. This information  -  which I got, as usual, from the Western Association of Leavitt Families Web site (www.leavittfamilies.org)  -  is of some interest to me, if it holds true, because the Cheney Family singers were also descended from John Leavitt (1608-1691).

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grew to manhood and womanhood. Their names were -

My mother, who, in early maidenhood, became the wife of my father and the future mother of four quartets with a sister in each, was possessed of a voice of peculiar sweetness, and instilled into her children the soul of melody, so that from infancy they imbibed this boon, a love of music, that was more fully developed in after years.

At the time of the death of Sister Abby, in 1892, our dear friend, Frank B. Carpenter, writing in the New York Home Journal, spoke thus of the musical talent of my mother's family:

"She (Abby) came from a long line of musical ancestors. Her maternal great-grandparents, William Hastings and his wife, were noted singers of their time. One of the Hastings daughters married into the Leavitt family, also famous for musical genius. Thus, of the union of the musical talents of the Hastings and Leavitts came the musical mother of the Hutchinson family."

In 1862, Prof. R. D. Muzzey, of Dartmouth College, wrote to Rev. Dr. Davis, of Amherst, N.H., a letter

"Adoniram Judson Joseph":   Adoniram Judson Joseph Hutchinson was universally known among family and acquaintances as Judson. In print, at times he went by initials:   J. J. Hutchinson.

"In 1862, Prof. R. D. Muzzey":   Dr. Reuben Dimond Mussey (1780-1866). I'm not sure I've ever seen an identification of Rev. Dr. Davis of Amherst, New Hampshire.

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containing reminiscences of his boyhood, when his father was a worshipper in Rev. Mr. Bruce's congregation at Mont Vernon, then the North Parish of Amherst. He speaks thus of my mother and her sister Sarah:

There was one charm which was peculiar connected with the worship on that hill  -  it was the singing. There was a good choir; but the fascination came from a single voice, that of Miss Leavitt, an elder sister of Miss Leavitt who afterwards became the mother of the Hutchinson family, so renowned in song. The choir of Mont Vernon church met for practice on Sabbath morning before the hour of worship. Miss Leavitt always sang the alto. How many times, as we striplings ascended the hill, did we stop to drink in those rich and unearthly tones (oh, I can hear them now!) which filled the whole atmosphere, and seemed to come from an elevation far above that of the open windows.

My dear sir, pardon my enthusiasm. I have since heard Madame Malibran, Madame Sontag, Jenny Lind, and an oratorio in St. Xavier's chapel from the choir of Pope Pius IX on the evening of his coronation, and I have not yet heard a voice so rich and inspiring as that of Miss Leavitt. Does such a voice come as often as once in a century?

Sarah Leavitt married Chandler Averill, who was a fifer in the War of 1812.

Milford was an offshoot of Amherst.   The village is situated about two miles in a southwest course from the old town, at the east end of a fertile valley, encircled around with sloping hills on the north and south, with Peterboro and Lyndeboro and the Greenfield Mountains on the west, where the Indian-named Souhegan River takes its rise  -  a fine, rapid stream, flowing majestically through the rich valleys, reaching the falls, where a dam is constructed forming a pond sufficiently large to supply the several mills.   Here was built one of the first cotton factories in this country, which has been in operation for more than two-thirds of a century. Saw-mills and other manufactories were dotted along its

"Sarah Leavitt married":   Sources I've found disagree as to whether the husband of Sarah Leavitt Averill was named Chandler Averill or Jesse Averill.

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margin, all deriving supply and running-power from this source; and a small tributary stream which also supplies power for several mills, empties into the river near the town, and flows on toward the Merrimac and the ocean.

The family grew to such proportions at the old homestead that it was thought advisable to purchase another place. A farm was for sale some three-quarters of a mile distant from the homestead, coming down upon the meadow adjacent to the Souhegan River. Father made a purchase of this place. The farm contained about one hundred and sixty acres, with a very large house and convenient outbuildings. The house was built originally for a hotel by Colonel Joshua Burnham, and was constructed from lumber selected from the old growth in the pine forests upon the farm. The house was fifty-three by forty-eight, about thirteen feet stud, hip roof. Thence the younger portion of the family repaired, leaving the older members at the original homestead.

Brother Joshua, in relating the incident of moving, says he was detailed to carry his two younger brothers, John and Asa, in his arms across lots: they were very heavy, one being three years and the other one year old. Joshua was twelve. He conveyed them singly at the proper distance, and laying a child down went back and brought the other, and so alternately he reached the new home in safety.

The house contained eight large rooms, sixteen by eighteen feet in length and width, and a very large cellar under the whole.

Right in the vicinity of these premises was Colonel Burnham, living in the little red house on the hill, which had been selected by his children as a home for his declining

"The family grew to such proportions":   Notice that the Mont Vernon property is called the "old homestead" here. It makes most sense to call the farm in Milford the "new homestead," and that's what most of the Hutchinsons did.

"Thence the younger portion of the family":   Jesse and Mary Hutchinson and much of their family moved from the Mont Vernon farm to the new one in Milford in 1824. The ages of Joshua, John, and Asa Hutchinson, given by John Hutchinson on this page, indicate a moving date sometime toward the middle months of that year.

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years, and situated where he could overlook the surrounding landscape, including a good view of the farm that was once the home of his family and which he had lost by unpaid debts. He was a frequent visitor to the place; and when the fruits were ripe, he would have free access offered by my father and the privilege of obtaining what fruit he desired. There was one very favorite apple, the flavor of which was delicious; and when the apples were ripe, this honorable old gentleman would be seen going and coming with his pockets full, and they were pockets! They were like bags, and he could carry almost half a peck in each one. He would come over, fill his pockets, and then trudge along towards home. He was occasionally visited by officers of the armies of the Revolution; and it was said that one of the staff of Washington was among them. My parents honored him by naming Joshua after him. He would frequently show his regard for his namesake by some token, and before passing into his dotage he called him to his house and presented him with a sash worn by him on parade while he was under George Washington's command. This article was carefully preserved, and is still, after the decease of both giver and receiver, an heirloom in the family.

In those early days among the pioneers, education was sometimes neglected. The colonel, though passing through seven years of renown as a discreet officer, could not write his own name, and while in business kept his accounts by characters. For instance, having sold cheese to a person, he would make a mark of that portion of cheese that that man received. His funeral was the first that I had ever witnessed, and the impression was depressingly suggestive. He died at the age of ninety-three; and engraved as an epitaph

"His funeral was the first":   Col. Joshua Burnham died on January 7, 1835.

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upon his tombstone, were these words composed by Brother Joshua:

Our farm-house was sparsely furnished, and embarrassment in debt prevented any immediate change. One day a neighbor came into the house and looked about: no carpet on the floor; dining-table and a few wooden chairs; no pictures for the walls. She remarked, "Where is your furniture?"   Mother pointed to the growing family about her and said, "These represent my furniture."   There were ten children; and there was also room for expansion of the lungs, and music from father and mother and the older brothers went ringing up and down the hall-ways, with broad open stairways extending up and down from the entrance. These quarters proved very advantageous to the harmonious development of our voices.

A spring of soft water was near, to supply the barn and a public water-trough, while a well of soft water supplied the house.

The village of Milford grew to such proportions that it soon out-rivalled and challenged the competition and

Speaking at first of the family song, "The Old Granite State," in Volume 2 of this book, page 297, John said, "This we sung together for the first time in the old southwest room of the house, which we called the bar-room. The house was once a hotel, and the bar was located in this place. In our early days teamsters coming from Peterborough continued their habit of stopping at the place, and father would put up their horses and care for their wants. Solely for their accommodation, he kept in a side cupboard some spirit, gin and rum. In the cellar we usually kept one hundred barrels or so of cider. Everybody drank cider then, and in those days hard liquors were considered indispensable in haying.   I remember father made a contract at one time to pay a man a big silver dollar a day and furnish him a pint of rum daily, for haying. The rum was mixed with molasses, placed under a bush, and as the mowers came round the field to it, they would take a drink."

"There were ten children":   If when John said there were ten children he is to be taken as reporting literally and accurately that there were ten Hutchinson children in the new Milford household, and taking into account that the lifespans of Elizabeth Maryann and Abby did not overlap, then those ten would have included Zephaniah, Caleb, Joshua, Jesse, Benjamin, Judson, Rhoda, John, Asa, and Elizabeth or Abby, depending on just what time he had in mind. We don't know a lot about the accommotations. But in Vol. 2 of his Story of the Hutchinsons, John wrote, "This room [of the Milford homestead,] Benny and Judson, Asa and I occupied for years, it being large and airy, with plenty of room for two double beds." [John Hutchinson 1896, 2:152-153).]

"A spring of soft water was near, to supply the barn":   In her own memoir, John's daughter, Viola Hutchinson Campbell, spoke of "the big watering trough which was placed near the highway, fed by an old time wooden pump, where horses could stop for a drink." [Viola Hutchinson Campbell, Memories of a Busy Life (Plymouth, Mass.: privately printed [The Rogers Print], 1926), 14.]

"How dear to my heart":   From "The Old Oaken Bucket," lyrics: Samuel Woodworth, tune: "Jessie, the Flower of Dumblane" (later a musical setting composed by George Kiallmark was popular).

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excited the envy of the town from which it sprang, though Amherst Plain held for many years the advantage, being the county-seat of Hillsboro County. We were a well-regulated town and a thrifty community, with all necessary requirements for a healthy growth.

The first Congregational Church was presided over for many years by a worthy pastor, Humphrey Moore, who was supported by the levying of a tax on all the people. He was a very industrious, economical man, displaying genius in the cultivation of his farm  -  for he was a practical agriculturalist  -  and prepared many of his sermons while in the field, he believing in the efficacy of out-door exercise and study from nature. There could be but one "Priest Moore." His wit manifested itself while at the divinity school, and it sometimes took a mischievous turn. One day he was caught tying a small tree or bush to the tail of a colt. When questioned by a member of the faculty, who said, "Mr. Moore, I thought you had sowed all your wild oats," he replied, in his peculiar lisping way, "Yeth, thir, I have, and now I'm going to brush them in." The professor said no more, but passed on. It is told of him, and the story is vouched for, that on one occasion he was asked to officiate at a Masonic celebration where a prayer was considered germane to the proceedings. All his denomination were opposed to the mystic order, and at first he hesitated, but finally complied, and at the appointed time and place made his appearance, and offered the following prayer, "O Lord, we pray for we know not what; if it is good, bless it; if it is bad, cuss it. World without end. Amen."

On one occasion he was addressing the Legislature of New Hampshire; extolling the thrift and productiveness

"The first Congregational Church":   R. J. Ellis has produced a volume about Harriet E. Wilson of Milford, New Hampshire, and her historic book, Our Nig. His work is Harriet Wilson's Our Nig: A Cultural Biography of a "Two-Story" African American Novel, paperback, (Amsterdam-New York, NY: Rodopi, 2003). Our Nig is thought to be the first published novel by an African-American woman and the first novel published in the United States by an African-American author, man or woman. Professor Ellis' Chapter 3, "Sentimental Fiction, Sentimentality and Religion," includes much consideration of Milford's Congregational Church, beginning with the subheading, "Church Antislavery Politics," on page 88. Many researchers believe that members of the Hutchinson Family would have been acquainted with Harriet Wilson. Count me among them. Rev. Humphrey Moore was the pastor of Milford's First Congregational Church from 1802 to 1836. Though it's not mentioned in the Story of the Hutchinsons main text, Rev. Moore was a family connection of the Hutchinsons.

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of his people and town: he said there was one worthy gentleman in this town, Uncle Jesse Hutchinson, who was making money in raising a family of boys.

"Well, Brother Moore, how is your health?" said Joshua to him on one occasion. "I am perfectly thound above my knees," he replied.

"Rev. Mr. Elliott came to Mason when father and mother were young people, and preached the Baptist doctrine. Father had no carriage, but being interested in the faith, he would put his saddle on his horse, and putting mother with a babe in her arms on a pillion behind, would trot over the Mont Vernon hills to Mason. As they passed Priest Moore's church from which they had withdrawn, the boys would hoot at them. Later Mr. Elliott was invited by father to come over and preach in the North School-house near the farm  -  from which father was afterwards buried. Soon father and Uncle Andrew built a Baptist Church, in which a Rev. Mr. Evans first preached. Rev. Adoniram Judson, the great missionary, was a friend of Mr. Evans, and would sometimes come and preach for him. My brother Judson was named for him. A Mr. Bowles, and later Rev. Samuel Everett, preached there.

"As time passed on and the children grew to the age of discretion, one after the other was advised to select a congenial employment. Most of the boys remained on their farms adjoining the homestead.

Jesse, at the early age of sixteen, repaired to the village of Amherst, and took a position as a "printer's devil" in the office of the Farmers' Cabinet, a paper edited by Richard Boylston, and there continued until he was proficient in the art and an expert at typesetting. Boys that serve as printers' appentices often tire of the menial service, when in fact it is the best school that

"Rev. Mr. Elliott came to Mason":   According to a May 5, 2004, e-mail from Milford's First Baptist Church, "As early as 1806 a few Baptist men were meeting at one another's homes to worship the Lord." That same message said, "On September 5, 1809 the Baptists organized as a society. Their first meetinghouse was built in 1816 on the corner of what is now Granite Street and Mt. Vernon Street." We know from a clipping in Ludlow Patton's Hutchinson Family Scrapbook (Item 70v) that Jesse Hutchinson, Sr., united with that congregation on September 14, 1814. I would guess that Jesse Hutchinson, Sr., made those trips to Mason to hear the Baptist doctrine preached in 1814 or not much earlier. That, though, would raise the question of why he didn't join Milford's existing Baptist congregation right away.

"Jesse, at the early age of sixteen":   1829 or, more likely, 1830. Jesse Jr. gets a lot of space here, relative to his brothers. I'm inclined to believe that young John idolized Jesse.

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could be established as far as a thorough knowledge of grammar, orthography, etymology, syntax and prosody are concerned.

He was allowed once a week, and that on Saturday, to go home, a distance of two-and-a-half miles. His reception was an occasion of joyous enthusiasm as his shrill voice pealed forth in a shout or a song to announce his coming. The very family dog would scamper over the fields to meet him, his quick, instinctive ear catching the sound of his voice before any one in the house; and this signal would first announce Jesse's coming. Then all the youngsters would rush out to greet him as he came bounding across the fields. Some pleasing reports he would bring us from our relatives who resided in Amherst. He would have a word about the Leavitts and how old grandfather was getting along. After he returned[,] to the house would come the usual congratulations and a variety of sports, plays and recreations. On the day following, Sunday, he repaired to church with our parents, and on Monday morning early we would bid him farewell as he took his departure back to his trade.

Andrew, at the age of sixteen, went to Boston and embarked in a mercantile business, becoming very successful.

Zephaniah went West, taking up lands for his farm in Illinois.

Joshua was a clothier, carding, dyeing, and weaving wool into cloth fabrics.

I, never supposing I was committing an unpardonable sin by letting my affections go out to lovable objects, early formed an attachment to a young lady schoolmate of my own age; and, learning what it was to have the intensity of a boy's love and devotion, I was perfectly

"His reception was an occasion":   Reference here to Jesse Jr.'s shrill voice is one of several things that could give the impression that he had a stronger, more piercing voice than his brothers.

"Andrew, at the age of sixteen":   1824 or 1825. Disaster struck Andrew Hutchinson's business around the year 1850 or not much later. I know a little about it, though not much. If you have details, please e-mail me.

"I, never supposing":   This is highly unusual. In this book, John said remarkably little to give an idea of what was going on in his personal life  -  or the personal lives of other Hutchinsons, for that matter  -  at the time of his writing. In fact, he was having trouble then with members of the Campbell branch of his family, over his romance with Mrs. Mary E. McDonald, a very attractive widow in her twenties. This remark from John, no doubt, refers to difficulties that arose no later than 1894 and lasted for the rest of his life.

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contented whenever in her presence; and, whenever an opportunity offered, presented her with little tokens such as I might acquire, of affection and regard.

The pleasures of the disctict school were greatly enhanced by the attention and coöperation of this young lady in my studies. She was the best scholar in the school, and could spell them all down. At one time, noticing my timidity at reading my own composition, she generously volunteered to read it herself; and by her pleasant intonations and inflections added double interest to it, so that it was pronounced a worthy production, which made me very proud and grateful.

For years, as soon as I had entered the church and choir, I would first look down to her pew, would be cheered to know that she was present, and could thereafter sing with more spirit, for we were in fellowship and full sympathy, belonging to the same church.

Buoyed up under all discouraging circumstances, I built castles in the air and dreamed of a future and closer alliance. How often it is that we, by brush or pen, place before our gaze the name of our spouse! Caroline Bartlett was written one hundred times on the wooden walls that surrounded the old wash-room, where, being detailed by my parents to help do the washing for a family of ten, as we had many boys and few girls, I would immortalize her name in chalk. But, alas! at the mature age of fourteen my dream faded, for my presents were returned, and the incident closed.

The Baptist preacher, Samuel Everett, was quite dogmatic and very severe in all his utterances; and we were led to believe it very wrong to decide contrary to his mature judgment, as we felt we were the subjects of his watchful supervision. The school-committee engaged him to teach in the North District, and his sternness

"Caroline Bartlett was written one hundred times on the wooden walls":   One would imagine that Marietta Caroline Bartlett was named for Caroline Bartlett. Caroline's brother, Isaac A. Bartlett  -  Sister Rhoda's first husband  -  was Marietta's father.

"But, alas! at the mature age of fourteen":   1835. When interviewed by a Boston reporter in 1905, John dated this romance to age 10, which comes out to 1831. It's entirely possible his infatuation was long-lived and both dates are correct.

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was very depressing to his pupils. He had a genius for corporal punishment. One of the boys was caught one day playing with a spring of an old tin candlestick. As quick as he discovered the device he snapped it on the nose of the boy, standing him up near his desk as a laughing-stock, and those who could not restrain their laughter were called up and awaited their turn to wear the badge. Of course he read the Bible and prayed, and so did all the adults in the school, but the discipline did not conduce to much spiritual growth. Compared with those masters who follow, he was kindly remembered. Fifty years subsequent I met him in Iowa City, where he had come to visit me and attend my concert from his home in the country; we found our experiences in varied paths led us in sympathy to broader views, and we spent one long and joyous day with each other.

We had some good teachers and some very bad ones. One in particular was quite offensive to the scholars; he generally would punish the older ones over the backs of the younger. This gave rise to revolt, which culminated in dissolution and dismissal. The facts were these: it came my turn to build the fire in the school-house, and I was on hand bright and early in the morning with my kindlings and started a blaze, putting on some large sticks as usual. Soon the smoke stopped ascending the chimney and began coming into the room. The teacher arrived and tried to stem the tide of smoke, but the place was soon filled, so that we were all obliged to seek the open air for breath. The teacher was then convinced that the chimney must be stopped up; a ladder was brought, and the "master so cruel and grim," ascending, discovered a board had been closely fitted on the top, with the intention of smoking him out. There

"Fifty years subsequent":   Mid-March 1880.

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was no more school that day. The news went abroad, and in the evening the whole neighborhood was brought to judgment. The scholars (all the male portion) were arrayed in single file, and the committee gave all a chance to tell what they knew about the affair. No one knew anything about it.¹

It was thought best for the teacher to beat a retreat, and not stop to beat the little ones any more; and away he went, promising never to return. Everybody said, "Let him off too easy." About that time we played the "Rogue's March," in remembrance of the tyrant's departure. The work of repairing the school-house was soon finished, and a new teacher was engaged.

I well remember one gentle schoolmarm, who taught by love, and thus induced us all to respect her. She was only seventeen years of age. I was between seven and eight, and my affections were very tender; she attracted my whole soul and attention. I loved to obey her rules, and needed no chastisement. Oh, how precious those few weeks of summer tuition! Her example served to convince the people in later times; corporal punishment was abolished, and the principle of love was substituted. Then true progress was made, the best promptings of our nature were cultivated, and we stored up, with sweet affection and sympathy, the knowledge of our books, for we were guided by some magic spell, and our attachment grew stronger as the days passed by.

How sad were we all when we were told by the teacher to close up and pack our books, for the term was over! How we wept as we kissed her and said good-by,

¹ March 13, 1895. Attending a funeral in the neighborhood, I met an old school comrade, Captain Tim Curtis, who reminded me of this and similar incidents, as we conversed of our boyhood days  -  almost seventy years ago.

"I was between seven and eight":   Summer 1828.

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and watched her steps as she ascended the hill leading to her boarding-place! Oh, that I could go with her and live and love forever! Sobbing myself to sleep that night, I awoke very early, dressed, and stole out from the company of my three brothers, who still slept in the great square chamber, into the sweet, clear summer air. The song of the birds greeted me as I sped on, and my heart beat fast, and my spirits were buoyant, for I was soon to meet once more the dear love I longed for. How quickly I ran, and how short the distance between us! Soon I was standing outside the door waiting. Farmer Wallace coming out, surmised my errand, and said, "You want to see the schoolmarm, I guess."   "Yes, sir, I do," I replied, with a tear in my eye. She was called, and we met once more, and then she kissed me a long farewell. She was leaving for a land far away. When the frosts of autumn came, her delicate constitution yielded to pulmonary disease, and her spirit took its flight. But the joy of sweet remembrance will cluster around that angelic form while all else of earth shall vanish; and in the "sweet by-and-bye," I trust I shall be again blessed.

"Father was an early-riser: not much sleep after four o'clock for him. No astronomer loved more to bask in the glory of the heavenly bodies on a summer's night. He also delighted in witnessing the sun's first rays, for his well-laid plans for the farm work formed a stimulus to healthy action. The older boys were detailed for specialties, and the younger ones had to obey their commands  -  for

"I heard a voice":   Cf. "Looking Back" by Arthur S. Sullivan, lyrics by Louisa Gray, and sung by Annie Louise Cary; "My Love's Last Smile" by George Nevin, first line: "I heard a voice long years ago, a voice so wondrous sweet."

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"father said so"; and we all cheerfully fell into line and vied with each other to do our duty  -  to work well and fast. The short term of school in winter over, we hied to the woods to do some logging, cutting and hauling the season's supply of fuel; the best clear butts of hemlock, chestnut and pine were taken to the old saw-mill  -  still in existence near the Hardscrabble station built by grandfather  -  and converted into lumber, boards, shingles, clapboards, fence-posts, etc. This work was done while the sledding was good, and large piles of sled-length wood were heaped up near the house. Then followed the labor of cutting it into shorter lengths for the open fire-place and stove, splitting and piling it up in a loose manner till it towered to the height of eight or ten feet. Here it was allowed to remain for the sun and wind to dry it before it was piled up in the shed for future use.

Notes by Alan Lewis