Boys of the border

Front matter

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Preface

everyday people who were the first settlers, and the hardships they endured in the early settlement of this region. Hon. George Sheldon, President of the Pocumtuck Valley Memorial Association, in his address at the dedication of Captain Rice^s monument, very truly said of the men of the time:

They were trained in Indian warfare — hardy and bold, wise in woodcraft, inured to the hardships of marching and scouting in the forests, and prompt to the rescue on every alarm.”

The descendants of the men and women whose early struggles are here narrated are scattered all over our country, its very salt and savor; wherever found, it is safe to say, retaining some worthy flavor of the good old stock.

Greenfield, Mass.,

Contents

Chaptee Pace

I. A Band of Pioneeks 1

II. A Sunday’s Rest 15

Chapter I. A Band Of Pioneers

I T was spring in Deerfield, a lovely spring day late in April, 1743. The snow had vanished, save a few patches still lying in shaded gorges on Mount Pocumtuck or on the long range of hills to the westward. The grass on the meadows was fast growing green, and the buds on the trees, swelling in the warm sunshine, were coquetting with impatient mankind, coyly delaying their much expected opening from day to day.

Deerfield farmers had been improving the fine weather, carting out on the meadows, beginning to plough in certain favored localities, everywhere preparing for the spring planting. The air was fragrant with the smell of new grass and fresh earth, the song birds were returning, and all the world was glad with the 1

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hopeful sense of new life and opportunity that conies with the spring.

Young Jonathan Hoyt, after his hard day’s work on the meadows with his father, was minded to have a little sport before nightfall. Bat and ball in hand, he hurried southward, entering the old stockade, whose gates, in these times of peace, decayed and ruined (as were the walls), hung wide open. This Friday afternoon the sun was already sinking low over the western hills.

Passing Thomas Wells’s house, he saw Eleazer and Ebenezer Wells out by the corn-house, busily at work.

^^What are you doing, boys?” called Jonathan.

Dressing a woodchuck skin,” answered Eleazer. “ Ebenezer ’s had good luck; caught a nice, fat woodchuck, and we ’re going to dry the skin for whiplashes.”

Can’t you come down to the Arms boys’ for a game of ball? Elijah says there ’s a nice dry spot in the street, near his house, and asked me to come down to-night. There ’s plenty of time for a game before supper.”

The Wells boys hurriedly finished nailing their woodchuck skin to the corn-house door, and joined Jonathan, Eleazer saying:

A BAND OF PIONEERS.

'^It will seem good to play ball again. We have not had a game since Thanksgiving Day.”

^^No,” said Jonathan, “winter set in so early. Deep snow fell right after Thanksgiving, and weVe only just seen the last of it.”

Agrippa Wells, a little fellow of five, ran after his big brothers, crying :

“Wait! Wait for me, Eleazer! I want to go too.”

But here his mother came to the door, saying :

“No, no, Agrippa. The boys donT want you. Come in now and get your bread and milk. Tis near trundle-bed tkne for small folk;” and Agrippa had to go reluctantly indoors.

As the boys walked on, they met young Dr. Thomas Williams riding in from the south, his horse, his saddlebags, the long leggings that protected his trousers, all bespattered with mud.

“ I wonder who ^s sick,” said Eleazer, as the doctor trotted briskly on to the north.

“Some of the Allens down at the Bars,” said Jonathan. “Dr. Williams told my father he had to ride down to the Bars this afternoon, mud or no mud. He said something about Samuel Allen, but whether it is father or son that’s ill, father did not understand.”

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The boys were now opposite John Nims’s house, and Daniel, youngest son of John, a boy of thirteen, who happened to be setting forth for the store of Capt. Elijah Williams across the training field, was not slow to perceive that the older boys had some fun on hand.

“Halloo, boys,’’ he cried. “Where are you going?”

“Never you mind,” said Jonathan, not inclined to be bothered with what he would probably have dubbed “ trundle-bed trash.”

“Oh, you can’t fool me!” said young Dan. “You’re going down to the Armses’ to play ball, that ’s where you ’re going. I ’ll be down in a minute.”

Away ran Daniel across the training field to the store on the corner of the lane leading down to the ford, rushing through his errand as rapidly as the dignity of Captain Williams permitted, and then off he tagged after the big boys, caring little whether they wanted him or not.

When the boys reached Samuel Wells’s house, young David Wells was just driving an ox cart into the yard. To the boys’ invitation to join them, he replied :

“ All right. I ’ll be down as quick as I get these oxen unyoked.”

Passing Eleazer Hawkses, Seth Hawks was also pressed into service, a willing recruit.

We Ve enough now, with the Arms boys,^^ said Jonathan.

William Arms lived at the south end of Deerfield street, around the corner to the west, his house facing south, a fair and sunny spot for a dwelling, with a sightly outlook over the broad meadows and up to the mountains each side. His boys were such a troop they were generally spoken of collectively as ^Hhe Arms boys.^^ They were now out on the dry patch at the south end, knocking and tossing a ball about among themselves.

“Now, Phineas,’’ said Elijah, the oldest, as he saw his friends Jonathan and the rest approaching, “you and the twins will have to get out. We big boys want this place for our game.’^

“I don’t want to go away,” said Phineas. “This is the best place. We want to play as much as you do.”

“ I can’t help that. You ’ll have to go,” said Elijah, with all the authority of an older brother.

“Why don’t you have a game of your own, down in front of our house?” asked Thomas Arms. “ It ’s plenty dry enough there. Look, there come Daniel Nims and Abner Hawks

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now, tagging along after the big boys. They ^11 help you out.”

Abner Hawks was a boy of eleven, son of Sergeant John Hawks. Living next door to his cousin Seth, he had readily accepted DaniePs invitation to join in the fun.

The sight of Dan Nims and Abner Hawks reconciled Phineas and the Arms twins, David and Jonathan, to their exclusion from the game of the elder boys. As Abner had a fine ball of his own, Daniel and Phineas were the more willing to overlook the fact that he was younger than they.

^^Did you bring your ball, Abner?” cried Phineas. That ’s good. Come on over by my house, and we will have a game of our own.”

The south end” soon presented an animated scene, with boys tossing and batting balls, vaulting fences, leaping the brook, scampering here, there, and everywhere in pursuit of their balls, with loud shouts and laughter.

In the midst of the fun, another boy on horseback was seen briskly trotting along the meadow road from the south.

There comes Oliver Amsden,” said Phineas. “ Let ’s get him to play with us. Oliver,” he cried, as the horse drew near, get off and help us out. We need one more boy. You canT get in with Jonathan and Elijah. Come on, Oliver.^’

like nothing better,’^ said Oliver, looking rather wistfully at the sport, for he lived down at the Bars, two miles below the village. The wide meadows surrounding Deerfield were fenced in, with gates or bars where the road passed through. In the fall, after the crops were gathered, the cattle, allowed to run at large during the summer in the woods on Mount Pocumtuck, were driven into this enclosure, to pasture until the coming of snow obliged their owners to put them up in barns for the winter. Woe to the careless boy who should chance to leave gate open or bars down! The fine imposed would certainly cost him some of the precious hoard of shillings he had saved from sale of fox or rabbit fur.

Only two families were settled at the Bars, a little below the southern entrance to the meadow, those of Samuel Allen and John Amsden. It was an isolated situation. There were no boys of Oliver’s age in the two families, and he would greatly have enjoyed a good game of ball with the others, but he said :

No, I can’t stop. Little Sam Allen ’s pretty sick. Dr. Williams fears it is the throat distemper, and he asked me to ride up to his house

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for a particular kind of liniment that he did not happen to have in his saddlebags.’^

That’s too bad,” said Phineas.

“I ’d love to stop and play awhile,” said Oliver, ^^but I must hurry back with the liniment.”

Being a human boy, he could not resist reining in his horse and stopping a minute, after he had rounded the corner, to watch the older boys’ game. Seth Hawks was making a fine run with the ball, encouraged by loud shouts of “Go it, Seth! That’s it. Good, good!” as Seth reached the goal in triumph ahead of Ebenezer Wells, his opponent.

The sun was now disappearing behind the mountain, and Eleazer said:

“This game will have to be the last.”

At that moment Abner Hawks cried :

“Jonathan! Eleazer! Look, look! See what’s coming!”

The boys, looking where Abner pointed, saw coming far down the meadow road a company of horseback riders, driving before them a small herd of cattle. The horses seemed heavily laden, and walked slowly, as if weary.

“I wonder who such a troop of travellers as that can be, and where they come from,” said Ebenezer.

Perhaps they come from the Bayl’^ said Eleazer.

A tired dog, head and tail down, jogged soberly along beside the tall, fine-looking man who seemed the leader of the party.

must run for home,” said Jonathan Hoyt,

and try to get a bite to eat before these travellers arrive. I shall have to help put up those horses, and Pm hungry as a bear after our game of ball.”

And away he ran, for Lieut. Jonathan Hoyt, Jonathan’s father, kept tavern, assisted by his oldest son, David.

The older boys now hastened home, but the younger set still tarried, full of an irresistible curiosity to see who these travellers might be. The coming of strangers from the outside world, especially if from the Bay (as Boston locality was called), was always an event of interest to the people of this remote frontier settlement. Often the travellers brought letters or tidings from distant friends, or the latest news from ^^home,” as England was still called, or perhaps a few copies of the Boston News Letter^ welcome even if weeks old. Deerfield’s only link with the outside world was furnished by horseback riders.

The Hoyts were thrown into some excite-

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ment when Jonathan came in, announcing a troop of travellers on the way. As the riders drew near enough to permit faces to be distinguished through the fast gathering dusk, Lieutenant Hoyt exclaimed:

I declare, it is Capt. Moses Rice and family ! He told me last fall, when he passed through on his way to Rutland, that he intended, God willing, to bring his family up this spring, and actually settle on the lands he has purchased to the westward, out in the Hoosac Mountains, and here they are!’’

^^Well, well, we must fly around, and get a nice hot supper ready, for they will be tired and hungry after such a jaunt,” said Mrs. Hoyt. ^^Come, Nabby,” she called to her daughter, don’t stand idling. There is plenty for us both to do. I ’m glad I put on a big pot of beans this morning.”

Caesar, the Hoyts’ negro slave, was also pressed into active service.

As the leader of the band, a tall, strong, resolute looking man, rode up to the door. Lieutenant Hoyt gave him hearty greeting.

^^So here you are. Captain, with all your family. Welcome to Deerfield, Mrs. Rice. You must be tired after such a journey.”

^^We are indeed,” said Mrs. Rice, as Hoyt

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led her horse to the horse-block and aided her to dismount. '' We were all most thankful when we rode in at the Bars below, and saw the smoke of Deerfield houses rising in the distance. Poor little Artemas nearly fell off old Dolly^s back, he was so tired and sleepy.”

Artemas, a boy of nine, rode a steady old mare, sitting astride a load of bedclothes and other effects strapped to her back, and tired enough did he look. But he said stoutly:

I ^m more hungry than sleepy. I could eat raw venison, I am so starved.”

^^Well, come right in, and the women will soon have supper on. My sons will care for your horses.”

The Rices dismounted. Besides the captain, Mrs. Rice, and Artemas, there were two sons, Aaron, a youth of eighteen, and Sylvanus, a boy of fourteen, and two girls, Dinah, a tall, fair maiden of sixteen, and Tamar, a girl of eleven; a fine looking, bright, healthy group of young people. The cap taints oldest son, Samuel, had remained behind for the present in Rutland, expecting to join his father later.

The tired horses pricked up their ears in eager animation, when they were unloaded and taken into the barn, where they well knew that

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rest and plenty of sweet hay and oats awaited them, after their long toil over rough roads, at the best but little more than paths. The Rices had come from Rutland in the eastern part of the colony, by the Bay Path to Hadley, stopping over night at Brookfield, and again at Hadley.

The weary travellers, lame and sore from their long ride, welcomed the summons to supper. The baked pork and beans, Mrs. Hoyt^s hot brown bread and sweet butter, the mugs of hot flip that Lieutenant Hoyt skilfully prepared, all were appreciated.

Hardly had Artemas finished eating, when he belied his own words by falling fast asleep in his chair, his head sunk on his breast.

^^See that poor boy,” said his mother tenderly. ^^We must contrive somehow to get him upstairs to bed.”

“Do you continue your journey to-morrow?” asked Mrs. Hoyt.

“No. We planned to rest here over the Sabbath, if you can accommodate such a troop of us so long, and proceed on Monday,” said Mrs. Rice.

“Deerfield will furnish our only opportunity for religious privileges hereafter,” said Captain Rice. “My wife is tired from the breaking up

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at Rutland, the packing, and the trip. We both felt it would help us to hear one of Parson Ashley’s good sermons, worship with you all, and rest quietly here over the Sabbath, before we turn our faces toward the wilderness. We shall go on our way with fresh heart Monday morning.”

“We will gladly keep you,” said Mrs. Hoyt, “only I cannot furnish beds for all. I must ask your older sons if they are willing to sleep out, at a neighbor’s. Your father can accommodate them, can he not. Freedom?” she asked a young girl who had run in, ostensibly to “help” the Hoyts, but really out of curiosity to see who the newcomers might be. Her father, Thomas French, the village blacksmith, like others of the neighbors, often helped the Hoyts by taking travellers to lodge, when the little hostelry was overcrowded.

“Oh, yes,” said Freedom, blushing as all eyes were thus directed to her. “I know he will. I will run home now and tell mother some one is coming.”

“I will go along with you,” said Aaron, “for I am nearly as far gone with sleep as Artemas.”

And so Aaron Rice and Sylvanus, escorted by Freedom French, went out, and the rest of the Rice family were not long in seeking their

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welcome beds. Delicious was the sense of repose after the long day^s jolting as they sank into the soft beds of pigeon feathers, and forgot all weariness, all anxieties, in sweet, refreshing sleep.

Chapter II. A Sunday^s Rest

S ATURDAY Captain Rice was busy, looking after goods and chattels that he and his sons had brought up the previous year and stored in Deerfield. It would cost them more than one long trip to Deerfield and return before all these belongings could be transported to his new home among the western hills.

Mrs. Rice was only too glad to rest quietly during the day, while her children made the acquaintance of some of the Deerfield young people and rambled around to see the village, pleased with the novelty and change, like all young people, quite ready to forget the things that are behind in pressing on towards those that lie before.

Sunday was a typical April day; clouds drifting across the sky often sending down gentle showers; the sky blue, the sunlight warm and caressing, between the showers.

^^Fine growing weather this,’^ said Lieutenant Hoyt at the breakfast table.

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These showers will help green my meadows/’ said Captain Rice. have some fine fertile acres of open meadow land along the Deerfield in my new purchase, as good land as the sun ever shone on.”

“I must say I have often wondered what could have tempted you to seek a home out there in Boston Township No. 1, up among the western mountains, so remote from any settlement,” said Mrs. Hoyt. told the captain last year, Mrs. Rice, when he and his sons stopped over here, going to and from his new land, that, were I his wife, it would take strong arguments to persuade me to go up there to live. I hardly thought you would consent to going there at present, with your family of children.”

^^The captain thinks it is best,” said Mrs. Rice, as if that settled the matter. But her anxious expression showed that her wifely acquiescence had cost her some struggle and many forebodings.

Our two daughters, who married Capt. John Burk and Ebenezer Sheldon, went with their husbands three years ago to start a new settlement at Falltown, about ten miles to the north of us,” said Mrs. Hoyt. “That seemed hazardous enough, and I have worried more than a little about them. But their risk is as nothing compared to yours.”

“A man with a family coming on,” said Captain Rice, ^^must look ahead. The desirable lands around the older settlements are now largely taken up, especially in the eastern part of the province. By striking out into the wilderness farther to the west, I was able to secure at low price lands that, when improved, will enable me amply to provide for my children. We have had eighteen years of peace now, and I apprehend no danger from Indians, unless, by ill fortune, war should break out again between France and the mother country. These Spanish troubles look a little ominous. But I pray war may be averted.”

“Since the great council with the Indians held here by Governor Belcher eight years ago,” said Lieutenant Hoyt, “we have felt well assured of peace. True, the Indians who come in here trading sometimes, when they have had too much rum, make ugly threats of what they will do, in case of another war. But our government is trying to keep a hold on them, in various ways. The trading post at Fort Dummer, where our Joseph Kellogg (he was, like myself, one of the captives taken from Deerfield in 1704) acts as interpreter and

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truck-master, has done much to cement the friendship between us and the Indians. The Indians are not slow to see that they get better goods and better terms there than in trafficking their furs with the Dutch at Albany.”

“Were you an Indian captive, Lieutenant Hoyt?” asked Sylvanus.

“Yes, I know all about the Indians. I lived with them until I was almost in danger of becoming one myself.”

“Jonathan can talk Indian still like a regular Mohawk,” said Mrs. Hoyt. “His old master, Nannageskung, used to come down from Canada to visit us, now and then, as long as he lived.”

“If all Indians were as decent as Nannageskung we need have little fear of them,” said Lieutenant Hoyt. “Though, after all, an Indian is always an Indian still, at the bottom. I would nT have trusted even Nannageskung if he had heard the war whoop.”

“Another war with the French and Indians would be the worst calamity that could befall us,” said the captain. “Let us hope the home government will not bring it upon us.”

Captain Rice had been an active and prominent citizen of Rutland, Mass., where he was captain of a cavalry company. In 1741 he had

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bought twenty-two hundred acres of land in the valley of the upper Deerfield, at a township recently granted to Boston, called Boston Township No. 1.^ During the summer of 1742 he and his sons had cleared some of the land, hewing strong timbers from the primeval giants of the forest laid low by their axes, and building from them a log house. Now the captain was on his way, with his family, to settle and live on his recent purchase.

When the notes of the church bell were heard solemnly echoing over the meadows and back from the mountains, all persons under the roof of Lieutenant Hoyt started for meeting, as indeed did every inhabitant of Deerfield, young or old, able, as the saying was, “to get from the bed to the fire.”

“Your meeting-house is truly a goodly structure, especially for a frontier town that has suffered so sorely in the Indian wars,” said Captain Rice, as they neared the church, which stood on the training field or common, on the west side of the street, facing Mount Pocumtuck and the sunrise.

1 In 1735, three townships were granted to the town of Boston, to be laid out “in the unappropriated lands of the Province.’^ These were known as “ Boston Township No. 1 ” (Charlemont), “Boston Township No. 2” (Colerain), and “Boston Township No. 3,” at Pontoosuc (Pittsfield).

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“What a handsome weathercock and ball!^^ exclaimed Dinah, gazing up in admiration at the glittering rooster turning and twisting in the breeze on top a large gilt ball, surmounting the steeple, which rose from the centre of the high pitched roof.

“We think it rather creditable for a country town like ours,’^ said Lieutenant Hoyt complacently. “I was commissioned to purchase it when the church was built, in 1729, and paid twenty good pounds for it in Boston.^^^

The meeting-house was nearly square, with three doors, one in front, one each on the north and south sides. As the Hoyts and Rices turned towards the north entrance they saw Parson Ashley, stately in wig, cocked hat, and bands, ascending the front steps. Madam Ashley on his arm, both bowing with dignified courtesy right and left to their parishioners as they entered the elaborately decorated front door.

The Rices looked around with much interest on the interior of the church, after they were seated on the benches that served for seats, the men one side the house, the women on the

'The old weathercock still surmounts the “Brick Church” steeple in Deerfield, as Sheldon says, “keeping watch and ward over the shifting wind, having seen the generations of men come and go for more than one hundred and sixty years.”

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other. Nabby Hoyt led Dinah and Tamar upstairs into the women’s gallery, while Jonathan escorted the Rice boys into the gallery on the men’s side, where sat a vigilant tithingman armed with a long rod. He looked so stern and important, and eyed Sylvanus and Artemas so keenly, as strange boys, that Artemas blushed and felt guilty, as if already detected playing in meeting. In a back corner of the gallery sat the negro slaves belonging to various Deerfield families. Here sat Mrs. Ashley’s Jin and Csesar, Lieutenant Hoyt’s Csesar, the Wellses’ Luce and ’Bijah, Madam Hinsdale’s Chloe and Noble, Mescheek, Pompey, the Sheldons’ Coffee and Sue, and several other negroes.

The Rices were especially interested in the meeting-house, for henceforth this was to be their church. And they watched the people too as they entered with lively interest, for these were to be their future neighbors, as far as dwellers in the wilderness could be said to have neighbors. There were only a few pews in the meeting-house, built against the wall, under the galleries. Parson Ashley walked up the aisle to the west end, seated his wife in one of these pews, assigned to her and other dignitaries, and then ascended the steps to the high pulpit.

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There no pulpit in Boston grander than that, I know,” whispered Tamar to Dinah.

'' ’Sh,” said Dinah. “The tithingman will point at you, or perhaps rap, if he see you whispering in meeting.”

No wonder Tamar admired the pulpit. It was brave with panel work, painted a dark olive green, the whole interior lined with green baize, a handsome cushion of the same supporting Bible and hymnbook, and an imposing sounding board, also painted olive green, overhanging the whole. Behind the pulpit was a large window draped with green baize curtains caught back in heavy folds.

Under the pulpit, in the deacons^ seat, facing the congregation, sat the two deacons, looking down on the people with a dignity second only to that of Parson Ashley. On the desk stood an hourglass, which Parson Ashley turned twice ere the service was over. He read long chapters from the Bible, made a long prayer, and gave out two hymns of many verses, sung with much spirit by choir and people. In the negro pew the dark faces shone with delight as the slaves poured out their souls in song, their rich voices mellowed by a plaintive, minor quality which seemed to express the sufferings of their race. Then all settled down for the sermon.

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Parson Ashley preached a discourse of sixteen heads, wherein the sins of the people were vigorously denounced and driven home, and the probable wrath of God freely predicted. The people sat serenely under this, too well accustomed to such denunciations in the preaching of the time to be greatly affected.

Artemas, not yet fully rested after his long ride, fell fast asleep as Parson Ashley^s voice went on and on. Soon he was wakened by a not over-gentle rap on the head from the long rod wielded by the vigilant tithingman.

Who ’s hitting me? ” muttered Artemas, half waking, doubling up his fists.

Sylvanus, blushing, hushed Artemas, now quite awake, and much frightened at having spoken out in meeting, while the other boys in the gallery, delighted at this little episode in the dry service, furtively nudged each other with twinkling eyes, yet careful not to smile, lest they too incur the tithingman’s wrath.

The girls, it is to be feared, found a degree of relief during the sermon in studying the brave attire of some of the Deerfield dames, fine in brocade dresses expanded over hoops, with pointed bodices and elbow sleeves ending in ruffles, in gazing down on the scarlet or flowered hoods, the silk pelisses or pelerines, of which

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their seats in the gallery gave them an excellent view.

During the short nooning a cold luncheon was served, and then all again returned to the meeting-house for a second service. Soon after this ended, Mrs. Hoyt served an early hot supper, of baked pork and beans and an Indian pudding, that had been put into the brick oven Saturday. Every one enjoyed the supper with hearty appetite and a sense of duty done, and every one was willing to see the sun set, except perhaps Mrs. Rice, whose constant underlying thought was, “To-morrow we begin our journey into the wilderness.^’

With sundown the rigor of Sunday w^as relaxed, and it was allowable to exchange visits, and talk on worldly topics. A number of the Deerfield people dropped in to call on the Rices. The men gathered in the barroom, the women in the large sitting-room, while the young people scattered about in different directions outdoors.

Phineas Arms and his twin brothers, with Abner and John Hawks, came to get Artemas to walk out with them.

“Where shall we go?” asked Abner, as the boys sauntered idly along in the sweet evening air.

“Let’s go down past Mr. Ebenezer Wells’s,”

said Phineas. Maybe Luce ’Bijah will be out.”

Mr. Wells owned a slave named Lucy, who, having married a negro named Abijah, was usually known as Luce ’Bijah.” She was quite a noted character in the little village, and, having a shrewd wit and quick tongue of her own, the boys especially delighted in talking with her.

The boys had the good luck to find Luce and ’Bijah out in the Wellses’ side yard, where Luce, with her mistress’s permission, was planning a little flower bed of her own.

What are you doing. Luce? ” called the boys.

^^Oh, lackaday, nothing much. Jest something to make fools ask questions,” answered Luce, with a cheerful display of her teeth, as the boys laughed at this retort. For she enjoyed the young folks as much as they did her.