Reminiscences of Candia

Preface

This little story of Candia, which was written some two years ago, I have at last consented to have pmblished in book form through the suggestion and advice of friends on whose judgment I rely. I hasten to acknowledge the encouraging aid given me by the Hon. Luther W. Emerson, Sam Walter Foss, and Col. Oilman H. Tucker of New York, and by Alanson Palmer of Brooklyn and the Rev. Samuel C. Beane, D. D., of Lawrence, Mass., and by my many Candia friends. It should be borne in mind by the reader that in writing this story I have reserved to myself the license of the story-teller ; I have not attempted in these reminiscences to write a history of Candia, neither has it been my aim to write an essay on some literary subject. My only purpose has been to tell a simple, informal story of persons and things as I knew them in my native town, fifty years or more ago. If my friends enjoy reading these Keminiscences of the dear old town we all so greatly love as much as I have enjoyed writing them, then shall I feel more than repaid in telling my story of Charmingfare.

The Author.

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

Wilson Palmer Frontispiece

The Old Home 2 '

Four Generations : Hon. Abraham Emerson, Daniel F. Emerson, Ruth Abbie Emerson Brown, and

Child 50

Miss Mary B. Lane QQ

A. Frank Patten 86

John P. French 88

Jesse W. Sargeant 90

Mrs. Jesse W. Sargeant . . . . • • .92

Frank D. Rowe 94

Moses F. Emerson .98

Luther W. Emerson 102

James Henry Eaton 116

Albert Palmer . . . 126

William R. Patten 150

Daniel Dana Patten 160

Nathan B. Prescott 172

James H. Fitts • • 180

Mrs. James H. Fitts 182

Mrs. Mary Jane Palmer Dolber 186

Benjamin Franklin Brown 204

Miss Ellen S. Eaton 208 m

Vi LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

Rev. George Henry French 222

Colonel and Mrs. John Frescott 234

Sam Walter Foss 238

Rev. Henry S. Kimball 260

Joseph P. Dudley 278

Frederick Smyth 284

Henry E. Burnham 296

Abraham Emerson 300

A. J. Pitman 308

George B. Brown • 310

Mr. and Mrs. Joseph Palmer 316

Alfred Brown 318

Alvin D. Dudley 330

John G. Lane 336

Moses E. Rowe 340

" 'Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam, Be it ever so humble, there 's no place like home ; A charm from the skies seems to hallow us there, Which, sought through the world, is ne'er met with elsewhere.

" An exile from home splendor dazzles in vain ; Oh, give me my lowly thatched cottage again ; The birds singing gayly that came at my call, Give me them, and that peace of mind dearer than all."

Thus do I sing as I write this initial number of a series of letters under the heading " Reminiscences of Candia," for the many readers of " The Derry News," and especially for the readers of my home town. I have always felt grateful that I was born in Candia. Had my good father and mother consulted me in relation to my birthplace, I am sure I should have chosen Candia in preference to all other localities ; and I do not question that I should have selected the old paternal homestead at the junction of those two roads, with that far-away western view, where I first saw the light of day. It is both timely and loyal to my first love of family life, that I begin this reminiscent story of Candia by paying affectionate tribute to the home of my early youth.

A now sainted father and mother stand in the very forefront, and form the centre around which all the sweet and sacred memories of my native town revolve. It is a precious delight that they now come to me as I write, so vividly that I seem to hear them speak again, and to feel once more their loving presence. And then that jolly group of brothers and sisters — and what a generous count they made ! Eleven in all ! In those good old days, the fathers and mothers welcomed the children with open arms. In that earlier time there were few, if any, childless homes in Candia, while as a matter of fact there was not a single home in my school district. No. 4, where the boys and girls were not to be found in goodly numbers. To refresh the memories of the older grown, and to afford a healthful lesson to those just starting out in family life, I '11 take account of the youngsters of fifty years or more ago in my home neighborhood. In the family of the late Hon. Abraham Emerson there were eight children. In Levi Barker's home there were seven. In Samuel Wilson's household there were five. In Dea. Francis Patten's family there were five. In my home, as I have already stated, there were eleven of us, boys and girls. In Samuel Heath's family there were at least a round dozen boys and girls, all counted. Four children graced the home of the late Dea. French ; then there were three or four of the Dolbers, and a half dozen, more or less, of the Nortons, while at Jonathan Emerson's home there were seven, and three in the second family of Dolber's, and several boys and girls in the Dutton family — making in all a bright, promising army of sixty or more boys and girls in one school district.

Now what was true at that time of family life in district No. 4, was largely true of every other school district in the town. In those days of a half- century ago, there was no home without its merry group of children, and s s

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M H H O to-day, while there is many a household in Candia without even one little one, there can be no real home without the young budding life. The American people have much cause to blush for very shame, for their racial suicide. But it may be asked how was a livelihood secured with so many children to feed and clothe, and to educate ? The answer to this vital query is found in the fact that every boy and girl was early taught and required to do his and her part in providing for the family. In my own neighborhood there was n't a child of us ten years of age, who did n't know in a practical way what manual labor meant, and this too without any special manual training in the public schools. Why, there was hardly any department of legitimate labor with which we little folks were not familiar.

Fifty years ago and more the braiding of palm leaf hats was one of the industries of Candia. I have not forgotten to this day that when a lad of not more than ten years I used to braid eight palm leaf hats a day, as my regular " stint." Albert, my next older brother, braided the same number, while Alanson, my next younger brother, braided six, making twenty-two hats each working day of the week. All this while the older brothers and sister were employed at some useful work. Then there was the shoemaking industry, which brought many a dollar into the homes of Candia. I know something of this branch of labor, for I wrought at the bench three or four years during the earlier portion of my life. Many a Candia boy of the earlier generation worked for six months of the year on the farm of a neighbor, or on that of some one living in an adjoining town, for eight or ten dollars a month, while many of the girls worked for a few months in each year in the mills at Manchester, or Nashua, or Lowell. Ask the Pattens, the Emersons, the Rowes, Jesse W. Sargeant and others, of this labor question in Candia, way back along the years, and they will tell you that the children in those days knew what it was to work, and to work hard. Every mother's son of us did something besides going to school, and playing baseball, and every mother's girl of us did something besides playing basket ball, and getting an education in the more fashionable schools of the country.

I thus dwell upon the home life of Candia as I remember it, to show, as best I may, the fundamental fact that in God's plan the children must be the supplement of every home worthy the name ; and to show this additional fact, that the father and mother of moderate means may rear and educate a good-sized family of boys and girls, in spite of whatever may be said to the contrary by the so-called fashionable world.

It is with peculiar pleasure that I recall the former home life of my native town. May the sweet memories of those dear old fathers and mothers never grow less ! Indeed, they never can grow less, for their names are immortalized in the homes they made for themselves and for their children. In my next letter I shall have something to say of a more personal character of these same fathers and mothers, and later on, of their children.

II

The fathers and mothers of Candia, a half-century ago, were men and women who were sensitively appreciative of all that was just and right. Their word was as good as their bond. Their promise passed current wherever they were known. Of deep religious convictions, their lives conformed to the severest tests of doctrinal belief. With a burning hell always in sight, they made straight for the heaven above. In those earlier days the Westminster Catechism and Calvinism were accepted without a question. The stupendous faith of the Candia fathers and mothers fifty or more years ago, was quite sufficient to remove the mountain into the depths of the sea. They had little or no occasion to delay that they might reason out any declaration of Scripture, for they took the " Word " on faith and there the whole matter ended. For those good old fathers and mothers I have always had an added admiration, because they, without complaint, so persistently attempted to live up to the rigid religious belief of their day. They were willing to be damned, if need be, for the glory of God. I do wish, however, they could have lived until this more fortunate day, when the love and mercy of God have more abundantly revealed themselves. The former generation in Candia was a church-going people. They kept the Sabbath in the strictest way. They prepared for this holiest day of the seven, during the later autumn and winter time, by holding prayer meetings at the homes of their neighbors.

How well I remember those held so long ago in my own home neighborhood ! I now seem to hear again Dea. Coffin M. French, with my father and mother, and Mrs. Dea. Francis Patten, and Mrs. Abraham Emerson, with the younger voices singing : —

" How shall the young secure their hearts And guard their lives from sin ?

Thy word the choicest rules imparts To keep the conscience clean."

And then those prayers — who can ever forget them ! Dea. Francis Patten's " O Lord, may we all make on the morrow a Sabbath day's journey towards heaven," comes to me now as audibly as when the Deacon offered up his earnest petition. And then Dea. French, the father of Dea. John P. French, would seldom if ever omit in his Saturday evening prayer the following : " May we become heirs of Thee and joint heirs with Jesus Christ to an inheritance incorruptible and undefiled and that fadeth not away." A. Frank Patten and his sisters, Mrs. John D. Colby and Mrs. Moses F. Emerson, well remember, I am sure, how their Grandfather Robie would interline his Saturday evening prayer with the Scriptural verse, " Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters, and he that hath no money, come ye, buy and eat ; yea, come buy wine and milk without money and without price." Abraham Emerson and his brother Jonathan and a few of the younger people always took part in these meetings, while the women, taking Paul's advice, kept silent with the exception of joining their voices in song.

I well remember that my father took an active part in these from-house-to-house prayer meetings, but singular as it may seem, and much to my regret, I am not able to recall anything that he said by way of prayer or exhortation. I do remember, however, and most vividly too, and with exceeding pleasure and profit, his morning and evening prayer at the old home, and while it does not come back to me as a whole, still portions of it cling to me in spite of the many intervening years. Never shall I forget how at family devotions each morning and evening during the week, and during each week in the month, and during each month in the year, and year after year during his lifetime, he would earnestly and pleadingly pray, " O Lord, bless all our surviving children whether present or absent : may their lives and health be precious in thy sight, and may they all be brought to love the blessed Saviour." Oh, those prayers of the dear old fathers and mothers of Candia have been, and are, a priceless inheritance to the children.

I wonder who of my Candia readers cannot recall the manner and the tone of Dea. Shannon in prayer ? He had just enough of the sing-song in his voice as to make it delightfully agreeable to the ear — and then how he would pray after this fashion : " May thy Word, O Lord, have free course and be glorified, and may its glad tidings be borne to the 'e-ends of the airth'."

Yes, the fathers and mothers of Candia were a church-going and praying people. They believed in answer to prayer, and so they prayed with that faith which lays hold of the promises. They did n't stop to question the Trinity. They not only believed, but knew to their own satisfaction, that Jesus Christ was infinitely more than a mere man. They all agreed on the fundamentals in religion, save baptism. Immersion and sprinkling stood wide apart, so that the battle between the two modes not infrequently waxed the hottest. Not one in those days could get to the communion table of the Calvinist unless he had been " dipped," while the other Evangelical Churches invited all to their table who were " in good and regular standing in sister churches." My father and mother were Calvinist Baptists, so I came early to believe that Christ was immersed in the river Jordan, "because there was much water," and I never suspected that it was an impossible feat to immerse those three thousand on the day of Pentecost.

But I am not to enter upon any discussion on the subject of baptism, so long as the fundamental fact has to do, not with forms and ceremonies but with the individual life that has heart and soul. Naturally enough the severely religious life of the Candia fathers and mothers entered into and moulded the home life of the children.

The boys and girls in those days read the Bible, either through choice or through compulsion. How infinitely different now ! The children in these later days know little or nothing of Bible story and literature, to say nothing of its higher instruction. While I am an optimist from start to finish, and believe as Senator Hoar of Massachusetts puts it, " that to-day is better than yesterday, and that to-morrow will be better than to-day," yet in many ways it seems to me, that it would be the wiser plan were this present generation to lay hold upon, and then hold fast some of the fundamentals of years agone. The emphasized religious life of the Candia people I knew as a boy stands out so prominently in my memory of the past, that I shall next write of her churches of more than a half-century ago, and especially of the Church-on-the-Hill and of those periodic religious revivals when the whole town was under " conviction," and when to speak a cheerful word, and smile, was considered almost, if not quite, an unpardonable sin.

Ill

In writing of the churches of Candia as I remember them when a boy, mention must be made — and this too somewhat prominently — of the theology in those days. I do not care, however, long to dwell upon the religious belief of the earlier time, for there are many phases of it that are altogether repugnant and forbidding to this more enlightened age. Fifty years ago the Evangelical Churches in New England, for the most part, were tightly held in the grip of an unrelenting bigotry, and this too in the most natural way. Then, it was a God of the most absolute justice whom the churches worshiped, while his infinite and ever-enduring love was kept in the background. It was God with an avenging sword. Man was, in those more primitive days, a poor worthless worm of the dust, without the least rightful claim to divine recogn.ition. The religious teachings of the centuries gone before had come down to the churches in the times of which I write. The theology of the fathers recognized no natural relationship between the Creator and the created. Substantially, it was believed that God in his omnipotence and omniscence had created man and then disowned him. The mistake of those days, as I view it, is found in the unfortunate fact, that man was so minimized that he became merely a cipher in the infinite reckoning, while God was so magnified, and I say it reverently, that the distance between the Infinite and the finite was made so far-reaching that there was but little hope that man would ever come into the Infinite Presence, and so lay his hand in the hand of the loving Father.

But in these later days the world has come into the clearer light and sunshine of God's all-pervading love. Now men and women know they are his children not by adoption, but by all the natural ties of a mutual relationship. Man is an essential factor in the perfecting of God's plan. Without him the infinite plan must fail. But it is foreordained and forewritten that God's word and work will not fail, so man is assured from the beginning that he is to count, and what is more, that he is worthy of being counted. This much I say of the former theology, by way of explanation of some things I have to say of the Candia churches of a half-century or more ago. I want to assure my readers thus early in this communication, that I have the profoundest respect and deepest love for the churches of my youth. This love is indeed intensified, when I appreciate how uncomplainingly the former generation accepted the religious instruction and belief given it. They were martyrs many times over to what they took on faith in the religious world. They of the earlier times read the Bible not for a moment doubting its literal interpretation.

Oh, those good old Christian fathers and mothers ! How delighted they must have been as they passed through the gates into the City, that God revealed himself to them there with all those attributes of love and mercy which are so characteristic of Deity !

My first church attendance in Candia was had at the Freewill Baptist church in Candia Village, and Elder Whitney is the first minister whom I remember. How vividly I recall those straight-back pews in which the boys and girls were not only expected but compelled to sit through all those long services, so painfully quiet, or otherwise that tithingman, Mr. Moore, was sure to rap for order among the boys who had dared to hunt for an easier position in their box-pew. It must not be forgotten that there were no cushioned seats in houses of worship in those days. Then one did not make his way heavenward on "flowery beds of ease." And then, those awfully long sermons Elder Whitney used to preach! It oftentimes seemed to me that he never, never would get to his " amen." I think the Elder must have been something of an anti-slavery man and that he let this fact be known to his hearers through his sermons. The late Cyrus Prescott, who was a born democrat, was an attendant in those days at the Village church and, if I am not mistaken, a member of the church. Never shall I forget what so impressed me at the time, how Mr. Prescott, one Sunday morning as Elder Whitney was gratuitously throwing into his regular sermon some of his anti-slavery love, left his pew, and made for the door and his home. It is said upon good authority that Mr. Prescott never afterward entered a church building. Be this as it may, Mr. Prescott was an excellent man, beloved by all who knew him, a man whose integrity and honor were unquestioned. I recall but a few of those who attended the Village church at that time, being but a mere boy of six or seven years of age.

I am not likely, however, to forget Deacon Dudley's enthusiastic and fervent " Glory to God," and his more than suggestive " amen," which brought many a man to his feet, wondering what had happened. I well remember Mr. Lang, father of Thomas Lang now of Maiden, Mass., and Mr. Jacob Morrill, that most devout of men — and Mr. Cheney, the miller, how he comes to me as I write ! Those exhortations of his, after Elder Whitney had shut his Bible and said " amen," while they were hardly classics, still they had about them and in them the zeal and fire of one in earnest in all things pertaining to the " kingdom." Then there was Mr. Prescott, the father of N. B. Prescott, who with his family was an attendant at this same church. The Richardsons I now recall — the late Gilman, father of Mrs. John Gate, and his brothers, Joseph and David. And the Taylors too — indeed, I am not sure that in good time the full list of those sturdy Christian men and women would not come back to me, who were Elder Whitney's parishioners. The Freewill Baptist church in Candia has always represented, as it does now, all that is best in morals and religion.

Mr. Joseph Beane and his brother Gordon Beane of the " Island " were prominent members of the Village church. Joseph Beane was the father of " Sam " Beane, as he is familiarly known in Candia, but in Newburyport, Mass., and throughout New England he is the Rev. Samuel C. Beane, D. D. Sam (I must call him by the name I knew him by as a boy) somehow broke away from the more orthodox and Calvinistic belief of his father, and early announced his faith in Unitarianism. Of his youth and college life and successful ministry I shall have more to say later on.

The ministers who followed Elder Whitney I but faintly remember, as at an early age I betook myself to the '* Church-on-the-Hill." My memories, however, of the Village church are altogether pleasant, save that I did often impatiently long for the " amen and amen." But in those days, a sermon less than one hour in length hardlyfilled the bill. The pulpit was then heard for its " much speaking." It is somewhere told how a clergyman, in the days gone by, once talked for a half hour just previous to his sermon, and then said, " With these few preliminary remarks, I proceed to the discussion of my text." Oh, those *' first, secondly, thirdly," and so on to the " lastly " and " finally," were a test of Christian forbearance and endurance on the part of many a hearer. But they were happily survived, and fortunately good men and women came out of that almost interminable list of headings safe and sound — but oh, so tired !

It was on the afternoon of a spring day in the very early forties, that a man of graceful carriage was seen from my home approaching Deacon Francis Patten's house, when my mother said, " I think that is the new minister, the Rev. William Murdoch, who is to become the minister ' On-the-Hill.' " And she was right — it was Mr. Murdoch, fresh from his theological studies, of whom and his church I shall have something to say in the next chapter.

IV

The Rev. Mr. Murdock must have preached all the better sermon on that first Sunday morning of his pastorate in Candia, for having been a guest over the Sabbath of Deacon and Mrs. Francis Patten, for their home was always distinguished for its good cheer and abounding hospitality ; and I can easily imagine how Deacon and Mrs. Patten must have especially welcomed the new minister, for there is always an interest attaching to the coming of a young man fresh from his theological studies, to take charge of a church. All eyes are upon the new minister, and a thousand and one questions are eagerly asked concerning him. " Is he married? " is the first query on the list ; and then follow, " Is he attractive in his personal appearance and manner, and is there a charm in his personal conversation?" Mr. Murdock went to Candia single-handed and alone. Yet I do not remember that any of the Candia girls at that time lost their heads or their hearts over him. Still there might have been those who looked upon him as " a good catch," — most likely there were, for there were then, as now, those of the fair sex who did not reveal the language of their heart to a world not in love.

Mr. Murdock was a good deal elegant in his personal presence. Of dignified mien, and graceful in every movement, he favorably impressed all whom he met. I can see him now as he walked up the right hand aisle of the

Church-on-the-Hill, and ascended with such grace and ease the steps leading to the pulpit. His movements, whether in the pulpit or out, described the curve and never the acute angle.

I do not remember that I was at that first service under the ministry of Mr. Murdock ; but if I was, I have unfortunately forgotten the text from which he preached. If I had known then that I was to write this series of letters I am sure I would have been present, so as to have been able to report after so long a time that initial service of his pastorate of eleven years.

Mr. Murdock went to his people in Candia filled to the brim with the emphasized instruction and doctrinal belief of all the orthodox theological schools of that day. With him, as with others of his profession, it was " Woe is me," if I preach not the word as laid down in the books. In those days the minister went armed with the wrath of an offended God ; so it became his duty to " cry aloud and spare not." Mr. Murdock's preaching was largely in keeping with the orthodox belief of the earlier day, only that it was underlined and intensified by that imp of darkness, the dyspepsia. True to his convictions, and honest in all his ministry, Mr. Murdock never softened or sugar-coated what seemed to him God's truth. No one ever heard him in his active ministry object to what seemed to him to be the fact, that God had foreordained from the foundation of the world some to be saved and others to be forever lost. Such was the belief of all orthodox churches, and it must be and was preached from all the pulpits. I never even suspected in my boyhood, under the religious instruction I received from the pulpit, that God loved man in what is termed his " natural state ; " neither did I suppose he loved the children. That Christ took them in his arms and blessed them, counted for little or nothing in face of the preaching of years ago. Just think of it ! Then, it was a good deal of a question whether an unbaptized infant could be saved. Oh, that horrid, repellent doctrine, coming down from the time when there were something like two hundred and fifty offenses against the law in England punishable with death ! " Justice, justice, justice ! " was the religious war-cry in those days, and the only God known was a God of Justice. Mr. Murdock was only true to his teaching, and to the obligations laid upon him by the schools, in preaching and setting forth in an unmistakable way the religious belief of that day.

Those periodic revivals, as I remember them, were born of that oppressing and depressing theology of a half-century ago. Who would not become anxious, and dejectedly so, over his eternal welfare, believing that in his " natural state " he was to suffer through all the ages of eternity an excruciating punishment ?

Under such a belief why should n't men and women come together frantically begging for an immediate salvation from the wrath to come ? While I would in no way underestimate the honest efforts and purposes of those who begat and promoted those old-time revivals, still I am safe in saying that fortunate indeed is it, that the churches now have found a better and more reasonable way in reaching a sinner. The day of those spasmodic religious revivals has gone past, and manly, intelligent reason has come to take their place.