By Barbara McCorkindale
Every public library has in its collection of reference works a group of volumes, musty and stiff with disuse, which faithfully record the history of the towns and cities in the library's immediate surroundings. For those who have ancestors among the early settlers, these books may serve as a means of tracing the family line, as page after page of "begats", like those in the Bible, are dutifully recorded. In general, these histories mention only the prominent families and the noteworthy deeds performed by their members. The one thing that the reader can be certain of is that only virtue will be taken note of, and, as we all know, when absorbed in large doses, virtue can become terribly boring! One day I was yawning my way through a dreary tome entitled (believe it or not) HISTORY OF THE CONNECTICUT VALLEY IN MASSACHUSETTS, WITH ILLUSTRATIONS AND BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES OF SOME OF ITS PROMINENT MEN AND PIONEERS, Vol. II as published in 1879 in Philadelphia by J. P. Lippincott. As I was gradually being snowed under by account after account of sterling citizens and their industry and altruism, my glance fell upon a segment entitled "Noteworthy Incidents," and I awoke to realize that our ancestors were, after all, human, and one of the editors of this book bless his heart! had actually taken it upon himself to record some of the down-to-earth events of the past which do NOT reflect with glory upon our forebears. It is with delight that I now present to you some gleanings from these spicy old records.
From the history of the town of Granville which is replete with upright and honorable men, I pluck what surely was a black sheep in the otherwise virtuous family of Thomas Spelman: "Daniel, the fourth son (of Thomas) was one of a band of counterfeiters, who in 1770, occupied a cave in Granville, where they manufactured spurious coin and passed it off on the Indians. Daniel was captured and lodged in jail whence he escaped, and settled in Providence, R.I., where he raised a large family. After an absence of forty years he returned to Granville where he died at the age of ninety, never having been troubled more with reference to his counterfeiting proclivities."
The town of Blandford in its early years evidently had a reputation for being "high" not merely due to its elevation above sea level! We are told, "Temperance was at a discount in those early days. From the records it is learned that at town meetings the inhabitants frequently took a recess of an hour for the purpose of refreshing themselves at the tavern. Tradition says that the man who could drink the most and walk the straightest was a hero. Strong drink was indeed a favorite beverage with the ancient Blandfordites, and no family arrangement was supposed to be complete without a liberal standing supply." Even the officials of the church appeared to share the tippling habits of the town, as the account continues: "In 1797 when the ecclesiastical council assembled at Blandford...Mr. Root provided the members of the council with accommodations at his house, and a town vote taken about that time appropriated to Mr. Root...money... 'for the strong Drink that the Council drink while they are Hear on our Business.’"
Nor does the town of Russell escape without a blot (or at least a small smudge) upon its escutcheon. It can be safely stated, after examining the account in this volume, that the early town fathers were a bit short on the milk of human kindness. Or perhaps they had not had much practice in dealing with public welfare. We are informed that "The first pauper mentioned in the records was Mary Stebbins, and she seemed to give the town much concern, and was, moreover, a burden upon it from 1805 to 1821. In the first-named year it was decided to sell Mary Stebbins 'at the loest bider for fore months,' and Stephen Hughes got the contract for keeping her, at three shillings per week." Continuing with Russell's welfare problems, we learn, "A record was made in 1814 of Mary Stebbins being bid off to John A. Mallory at eighty-five cents each week, and in 1816 the town voted that the selectmen should not give more than ninety cents per week for keeping Mary Stebbins. The prices for the necessaries of life must have been low in 1821, for in that year Squire Palmer kept Mary Stebbins for forty-seven cents per week, and, as the records make no later mention of Mary Stebbins, it is to be inferred that she passed out of existence about that time. She appears to have been the only pauper the town had for many years, although under date of 1821 mention is made that Andrew Mallory was allowed $61.80 for keeping his father and mother one year. Under date of March, 1817, it was voted 'not to allow the cost of diging up Miss Harris." Who Miss Harris was and why anyone should want to dig her up for any price may remain forever a mystery!
The records of the town of Montgomery bear witness to even more scandalous matter concerning a welfare case. We are informed: "A sensational incident in the history of the town came to light in January, 1879, when Mrs. Louise Avery was arrested upon the charge of murder, in having caused, it was alleged, the death of Mrs. Betsey Wright, an aged town pauper, whom Mrs. Avery undertook to support at town expense, and whom so the story ran -- she whipped to death in a fit of rage."
The use of the word alleged should be carefully noted here. At the time the historical volume was published, 1879, the case had evidently not yet come to court, and it is possible that the accused in this case was not found guilty. However, it does appear that "paupers" in the olden days were not the object of our ancestors' most generous and kindly inclinations.
In yet another town, tragedy and stern justice prevailed in two incidents which today would be looked upon with some degree of compassion. "In 1780 a girl called Becky Taylor, living in Chester, murdered her child to conceal her own shame, and for the crime she was, not long afterward, hung at Northampton." Probably to conceal the taint of disgrace, there is no name given to the tragic young woman in this next account: "In 1790 another girl, betrayed by an early settler, committed suicide, and according to an old English law, her body was buried on the public highway, in the old village of Chester, at the nearest cross-roads, and there it is likely, her remains lie at this day." Still another hundred years have elapsed since those words were written, but they doubtless apply even now!
The last sample I shall pluck from this assortment of Noteworthy Incidents is of a less depressing nature; in fact this little story might even be classified as having romantic overtones, although at the time of the events an aura of scandal must have prevailed. Once more, the setting is the town of Chester. (What a busy little community this must have been!) "It is related that a party of prisoners taken by the Americans at Burgoyne's surrender halted at what is now Chester Centre, en route to Boston, and were confined in the Congregational Church for the night. Among the inhabitants who assembled for a curious glance at them was pretty Fannie Holland, from the north end, and it appears that her charms so smote one of the prisoners, David Cross, a Scotchman, that upon his arrival at Worcester he managed to escape from imprisonment by means of a forged pass, made his way back to Chester, sought out Fannie, became her suitor, and eventually won her for his bride." We are told that the couple moved to Washington, Mass., to set up housekeeping and, without a doubt, to escape the gossiping tongues of the bride's native town!
As I leaf once more through the yellow pages of this musty volume, about to close it forever, my eye is caught by the imposing portrait of Watson E. Boise of Blandford. With what a stern and uncompromising expression he glares out at me from page 1077! Like Ozymandias he seems to be saying, "Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!" But I am no longer to be intimidated by the self-righteous stares in the portraits of our forebears. I stare right back. And as I gaze into those steely eyes, it seems to me that I can detect the slightest hint of a twinkle. Aha! Watson E. Boise, I have learned your secret! You were human too!
Every public library has in its collection of reference works a group of volumes, musty and stiff with disuse, which faithfully record the history of the towns and cities in the library's immediate surroundings. For those who have ancestors among the early settlers, these books may serve as a means of tracing the family line, as page after page of "begats", like those in the Bible, are dutifully recorded. In general, these histories mention only the prominent families and the noteworthy deeds performed by their members. The one thing that the reader can be certain of is that only virtue will be taken note of, and, as we all know, when absorbed in large doses, virtue can become terribly boring! One day I was yawning my way through a dreary tome entitled (believe it or not) HISTORY OF THE CONNECTICUT VALLEY IN MASSACHUSETTS, WITH ILLUSTRATIONS AND BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES OF SOME OF ITS PROMINENT MEN AND PIONEERS, Vol. II as published in 1879 in Philadelphia by J. P. Lippincott. As I was gradually being snowed under by account after account of sterling citizens and their industry and altruism, my glance fell upon a segment entitled "Noteworthy Incidents," and I awoke to realize that our ancestors were, after all, human, and one of the editors of this book bless his heart! had actually taken it upon himself to record some of the down-to-earth events of the past which do NOT reflect with glory upon our forebears. It is with delight that I now present to you some gleanings from these spicy old records.
From the history of the town of Granville which is replete with upright and honorable men, I pluck what surely was a black sheep in the otherwise virtuous family of Thomas Spelman: "Daniel, the fourth son (of Thomas) was one of a band of counterfeiters, who in 1770, occupied a cave in Granville, where they manufactured spurious coin and passed it off on the Indians. Daniel was captured and lodged in jail whence he escaped, and settled in Providence, R.I., where he raised a large family. After an absence of forty years he returned to Granville where he died at the age of ninety, never having been troubled more with reference to his counterfeiting proclivities."
The town of Blandford in its early years evidently had a reputation for being "high" not merely due to its elevation above sea level! We are told, "Temperance was at a discount in those early days. From the records it is learned that at town meetings the inhabitants frequently took a recess of an hour for the purpose of refreshing themselves at the tavern. Tradition says that the man who could drink the most and walk the straightest was a hero. Strong drink was indeed a favorite beverage with the ancient Blandfordites, and no family arrangement was supposed to be complete without a liberal standing supply." Even the officials of the church appeared to share the tippling habits of the town, as the account continues: "In 1797 when the ecclesiastical council assembled at Blandford...Mr. Root provided the members of the council with accommodations at his house, and a town vote taken about that time appropriated to Mr. Root...money... 'for the strong Drink that the Council drink while they are Hear on our Business.’"
Nor does the town of Russell escape without a blot (or at least a small smudge) upon its escutcheon. It can be safely stated, after examining the account in this volume, that the early town fathers were a bit short on the milk of human kindness. Or perhaps they had not had much practice in dealing with public welfare. We are informed that "The first pauper mentioned in the records was Mary Stebbins, and she seemed to give the town much concern, and was, moreover, a burden upon it from 1805 to 1821. In the first-named year it was decided to sell Mary Stebbins 'at the loest bider for fore months,' and Stephen Hughes got the contract for keeping her, at three shillings per week." Continuing with Russell's welfare problems, we learn, "A record was made in 1814 of Mary Stebbins being bid off to John A. Mallory at eighty-five cents each week, and in 1816 the town voted that the selectmen should not give more than ninety cents per week for keeping Mary Stebbins. The prices for the necessaries of life must have been low in 1821, for in that year Squire Palmer kept Mary Stebbins for forty-seven cents per week, and, as the records make no later mention of Mary Stebbins, it is to be inferred that she passed out of existence about that time. She appears to have been the only pauper the town had for many years, although under date of 1821 mention is made that Andrew Mallory was allowed $61.80 for keeping his father and mother one year. Under date of March, 1817, it was voted 'not to allow the cost of diging up Miss Harris." Who Miss Harris was and why anyone should want to dig her up for any price may remain forever a mystery!
The records of the town of Montgomery bear witness to even more scandalous matter concerning a welfare case. We are informed: "A sensational incident in the history of the town came to light in January, 1879, when Mrs. Louise Avery was arrested upon the charge of murder, in having caused, it was alleged, the death of Mrs. Betsey Wright, an aged town pauper, whom Mrs. Avery undertook to support at town expense, and whom so the story ran -- she whipped to death in a fit of rage."
The use of the word alleged should be carefully noted here. At the time the historical volume was published, 1879, the case had evidently not yet come to court, and it is possible that the accused in this case was not found guilty. However, it does appear that "paupers" in the olden days were not the object of our ancestors' most generous and kindly inclinations.
In yet another town, tragedy and stern justice prevailed in two incidents which today would be looked upon with some degree of compassion. "In 1780 a girl called Becky Taylor, living in Chester, murdered her child to conceal her own shame, and for the crime she was, not long afterward, hung at Northampton." Probably to conceal the taint of disgrace, there is no name given to the tragic young woman in this next account: "In 1790 another girl, betrayed by an early settler, committed suicide, and according to an old English law, her body was buried on the public highway, in the old village of Chester, at the nearest cross-roads, and there it is likely, her remains lie at this day." Still another hundred years have elapsed since those words were written, but they doubtless apply even now!
The last sample I shall pluck from this assortment of Noteworthy Incidents is of a less depressing nature; in fact this little story might even be classified as having romantic overtones, although at the time of the events an aura of scandal must have prevailed. Once more, the setting is the town of Chester. (What a busy little community this must have been!) "It is related that a party of prisoners taken by the Americans at Burgoyne's surrender halted at what is now Chester Centre, en route to Boston, and were confined in the Congregational Church for the night. Among the inhabitants who assembled for a curious glance at them was pretty Fannie Holland, from the north end, and it appears that her charms so smote one of the prisoners, David Cross, a Scotchman, that upon his arrival at Worcester he managed to escape from imprisonment by means of a forged pass, made his way back to Chester, sought out Fannie, became her suitor, and eventually won her for his bride." We are told that the couple moved to Washington, Mass., to set up housekeeping and, without a doubt, to escape the gossiping tongues of the bride's native town!
As I leaf once more through the yellow pages of this musty volume, about to close it forever, my eye is caught by the imposing portrait of Watson E. Boise of Blandford. With what a stern and uncompromising expression he glares out at me from page 1077! Like Ozymandias he seems to be saying, "Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!" But I am no longer to be intimidated by the self-righteous stares in the portraits of our forebears. I stare right back. And as I gaze into those steely eyes, it seems to me that I can detect the slightest hint of a twinkle. Aha! Watson E. Boise, I have learned your secret! You were human too!
