Chapter III: Introduction (1)

Two hundred years ago, in the summer of 1707, the pioneer John Noble, with his little daughter, made his way through the wilderness from Westfield, Mass., and set up his rude cabin in the beautiful valley of Weantinock, on the west side of “Stratford” River, under the shadow of Fort Hill, near neighbor to the Indians, with whom he became very friendly. He trusted their friendship so much that he left his daughter in their care while he went on a journey, following the Indian trail through the wilderness to Albany, to pilot some gentlemen; and, on his return, he found her well taken care of.

He subsequently built a log house on the east side of the river on land now occupied by the residence of Levi P. Giddings.

The next year his son, John Noble, Jr., came and made a settlement, and, before 1712, twelve families had settled here on sites purchased by the Milford Company from the Indians, the purchases having been ratified by the Colonial Legislature; but, strange to say, only two of the twelve, Samuel Prindle and Isaiah Bartlett, came from Milford town.

Some thirty years previous, Henry Tomlinson and others of Stratford, Conn., had purchased from the Indians who assumed to be owners, this tract of land, and Mr. John Read, joint owner, representing them, came and laid claim to it.

It is said that Zachariah Ferriss, a brother-in-law of Mr. Read, came here in 1706, before any other white man, and plowed a piece of land where Roger Sherman Hall now stands, in order to claim title to the land under the deed of the Stratford Company.

He was sued for trespass by the Milford Company, but won his suit, Mr. John Read being his counsel.

Mr. Read built a house on or near the site of the Knapp residence, in which he lived, meanwhile prosecuting his claim to the title of the land. He obtained a verdict in his favor fifteen times, but the sixteenth time the General Court ruled against him; and he, being discouraged, soon after removed to Lonetown, now Redding, named for him.

The Colonial Government soon set off to him a large tract of land in what is now the town of Kent, of which the Scaghticoke Indians long after held possession, Mr. Read having exchanged it for territory in the town of Redding.

Mr. John Read was a notable man: He was well educated in theology and in the law, being a graduate of Harvard College, and is said to have preached the first sermon in this place. He was under thirty years of age when he came here. He married a daughter of Major John Talcott, was held in high esteem by the Governor of the Colony, and was appointed by him to many important positions. He held the office of Queen’s Counsel under the reign of Queen Anne. His son, widely known as Colonel John Read, was for many years very prominent in the Colony.

Other settlers came through the wilderness and erected their rude houses. The next thing these pioneers and pilgrims did was to petition the Assembly for the power and privileges of a township, which were granted, conferring authority relating to ecclesiastical matters. They then formed themselves into a church, and called a minister to settle over them.

“What sought they thus afar?
Bright jewels of the mine?
The wealth of seas, the spoils of war?
They sought a Faith’s pure shrine.

“Ay, call it holy ground,
The soil where first they trod.
They left unstained what there they found,
Freedom to worship God.”

They called Mr. Daniel Boardman to be their minister, and built the meeting-house and the schoolhouse, for these two institutions went hand in hand throughout New England and formed the characters of their descendants.

These early settlers of our town were busy men. They had

hard work to perform in those early days to subdue the wilderness, to plant and cultivate the corn and the rye for their sustenance, to raise the flax and the wool which the womenfolk made into garments. Mechanics, artificers, and wheelwrights were at a premium. The village blacksmith was a most important and necessary person, and concessions were made and land given to induce blacksmiths to settle in the community.

Small manufactories were soon established on every considerable stream. The grist mill, the saw mill, the flax mill--these were important institutions. The spinning wheel was in every house, and the loom was set up in every neighborhood. It remained for our day to develop the immense manufactories situated near the large marts. Those were days that developed brawn and brain--two hundred years ago.

What were the deeds our fathers performed in those strenuous times? They have told us but little; a few things were recorded in the town books of record. They were too busy making history to expend much time in writing it. They cleared and fenced the fields; they built the town and the village.

They did not pretend to great academic learning, but they had good common sense which served them well. They went out to drive off the French and Indians who harried their borders in their peculiar savage way. They rallied to defend their liberties in the great War of the Revolution, for which they poured out their blood and treasure, more than two hundred and twelve from the town serving in that war.

Referring to the founders of this country, a noted orator said, “How little did these rulers of the Old World--James the First seeking to strangle the liberties of England, or Richelieu laying his plans to build up a kingly despotism--realize that a little group of English yeomen were founding a colony in a Western wilderness, from whose vigorous loins would spring a mighty nation to dominate the world when the Stuart and the Bourbon were alike forgotten!”

Of these Puritans and their English brethren, King James had scornfully said, “I will make them conform, or I will harry them out of the land.” He did indeed drive these Pilgrim Fathers from his land; but within five generations thereafter their descendants had harried the English Government from these shores, and, within another five generations, had compelled not only England, but the whole world as well, to conform to America’s principles of free government, to America’s ideas, to America’s commercial predominance.

Those early days of New Milford produced some noted men, whose lives and example did much to mould the characters of the inhabitants. The names of Boardman, Taylor, Noble, Gaylord, Bostwick, Canfield, Baldwin, Griswold, Sherman, Sanford, Mygatt, Marsh, Hine, Turrill, and others of the same stamp will be recalled as those of leaders in the affairs of the town and the church.

The greatest and the most celebrated man that ever honored the town with his citizenship was Roger Sherman. He came from Newton, Mass., in 1743, at the age of twenty-two years, and was active and influential in affairs of the town and church; but the town could not retain him long. Of him Edward Everett Hale said: “They say dear Roger Sherman was a shoemaker. I do not know, but I do know that every central suggestion in the American Constitution, the wisest work of men’s hands, that was struck off in so short a time, is the suggestion of this shoemaker, Roger Sherman.”

It was said that Roger Sherman was placed on every important committee while in Congress, and that no law, or part of a law, that he favored failed to be enacted. John Adams said that Chief Justice Ellsworth told him that he made Roger Sherman his model in youth.

The Fathers of New Milford wrought wisely and well in establishing the religious and civic institutions. They built well the town and wide the streets, and their descendants have enlarged and improved so much that this little village has the name far and wide of being one of the most beautiful spots in New England.

Remembering these hardy pioneers, their devotion to righteousness, their perseverance amid discouragements, and their

many virtues, we all--the loyal sons and daughters of New Milford, those who went forth to make homes for themselves elsewhere and have now returned hither, and the strangers from foreign shores who have settled here--join together this beautiful month of June to celebrate the founding of the town, two hundred years ago.

MINOT S. GIDDINGS.

GLIMPSES OF OLD NEW MILFORD HISTORY

CONTRIBUTED BY CHARLOTTE BALDWIN BENNETT

Few contrasts could be more striking than our beautiful village of to-day against the background of the place John Noble, the first white settler, found two hundred years ago. An unbroken wilderness met his eye, save for the Indian settlement across the river on Fort Hill, where the smoke, curling from many wigwams, marked the homes of over two hundred warriors with their families.

Even four years later, when the white man’s plantation included twelve settlers and about seventy souls, we find it a rather dismal picture. An irregular cart path, winding in and out among stumps of newly cut trees, formed the Main Street. A narrow road led from the north end of this street to the river, then followed the river bank a mile north to the rapids, the general crossing place. The first bridge over the Housatonic was built at New Milford, but not until 1737.

John Noble’s house, the first in the town, stood on the site of Mr. Levi P. Giddings’ present residence. At the time it was built, it was the last house this side of Albany, and fourteen miles from any white man’s dwelling. The original “Town Plot” was on Aspetuck Hill, our forefathers evidently being impressed even then with the beauty and healthfulness of the hilltops. What is now Park Lane was also in the first century of the town a more populous neighborhood than the one in our village. But the valley offered more shelter and protection in the rigorous winters, and doubtless the toilsome life of the pioneer made the hill-climbing a heavy burden; so the valley triumphed at last, and claimed the larger population.

In 1712 the “New Milford Plantation” became a town, the inhabitants having petitioned the General Court to that end. In this year, also, “Mr. Daniel Boardman was called to preach ye gospel at New Milford.” Previous to this, except for occasional preaching here, the people had been obliged to go to Woodbury or Derby for church services. John Noble became a member of the Woodbury Church in these first years. When we recall what was meant by that long journey of twenty-eight miles through the wilderness, in which the narrow Indian trail was the only path, we bow in reverence before the faith and sturdy manhood that laid a sure foundation for the blessings that have come down to us. John Noble was a tower of strength to the little community during his brief life here.

He was evidently a modest man, who did not exalt his own deeds; but we may read between the lines a story of noble service and heroic courage. He fortified his house as a refuge for the people in times of danger from hostile Indians. He was the first town clerk elected by the town, and a surveyor of lands. When he died, in 1714, there must have been sincere mourning in the little community. He was the first adult person to be buried in the little graveyard. All honor to John Noble, our first citizen!

The first sermon preached here was by John Read, who had studied for the ministry, and who resided here from 1708 to 1711. His house, where Ingleside School now stands, was used, for several years after he left, as a meeting-house.

In 1713 the town voted to pay the expense of a minister; also to layout a pastor’s lot, and to dig and stone up a well for Mr. Boardman, if he became a settled minister. This recalls one of the first necessities of the new community--pure water. Strangely enough, this well is the only vestige now remaining of that earliest settlement. It is on the lawn of Mrs. W. D. Black’s residence.

The town, meantime, allowed five shillings and sixpence a week for the minister’s board. His salary was to be paid one-third in grain and two-thirds in labor, linen, or pork. This gives a pitiful glimpse of the slender resources of the people, but we remember with pride that there is no record of the church here ever receiving aid from any outside source. In 1716 the church was organized, and, on November 21 of that year Mr. Boardman was ordained. The first meeting-house was commenced in 1718, but was not open for worship till 1720, and was then quite unfinished, the floor not being laid till 1723. It stood on the highway on Aspetuck Hill, a little north of the Knapp house.

Until 1745 the Congregational Church was the only one in the town, and every person was taxed for its support.

There was no Ecclesiastical Society till after 1750. The town was the Society, and provided for all expenses of public worship. It has been remarked of these early New England towns that “one might almost say that the church had selectmen and the town had deacons, so closely were the two united.” From 1750 to 1790 those who aided in supporting other churches were relieved of the tax for the support of this one, and, from 1800, only members of this society were taxed for its benefit. The renting of pews began in 1854.

Before this, committees had “dignified the meeting-house.” All persons of the age of fifty-six years and upwards were assigned to the first rank of seats, and all others were seated “according to the taxes they have paid toward building said Meeting-House.” We are told that in the early days of the colony the “dignifying the meeting-house,” that is, the seating people by certain grades of wealth, was unknown. It became common only after slavery was an established institution.

The people were for many years called to church by the beat of the drum. An appropriation was made for this when the church was organized, and, annually, the town appointed a person to beat the drum, and voted to pay him for the same.

This method may have been employed to remind the people that they belonged to the church militant. Certain it is, that the marching with measured tread to the martial sound was a fitting prelude to the grim and lengthy service awaiting them.

The meeting-houses were not heated till 1823, when two box stoves were put in the second meeting-house. No wonder our forbears developed strong and decided traits of character under such Spartan training!

The tithing man was an important factor in church work. As early as 1729 it was voted in town meeting “that James Hine have oversight of the female sex during exercises on the Sabbath.” We are left in painful doubt as to whether the “female sex” needed more oversight than the men. But a later vote recorded relieves our minds, for “two men were appointed to oversee the youth (males), and one for the female sex;” during service. So we may conclude our foremothers needed only _half_ as much watching as the fathers and sons.

The law requiring the appointment of tithing men was passed in 1721. Earlier, it was customary in New England to appoint an officer to keep people from sleeping during the delivery of the sermon.

In 1745 the town voted that “any farmers, inhabitants, have leave to build a small house to repair to on the Sabbath Day, on the common land, provided the public is not damnified thereby.” This building was “north of the meeting-house on the side of the hill.” After the second church was built, in 1754, on “The Green,” opposite the spot now occupied by Mrs. Henry Bostwick’s residence, the Sabbath Day house was built on the site of Mr. James Orton’s present home on Bridge Street. These “Sabba’ Day houses,” as they were called, were an important institution in the Sunday life of those old days.

Here those living at a distance stored loads of wood and barrels of cider, refilled their foot stoves and rested between services.

This little intermission, in which the settlers took breath after the two hours’ sermon of the morning, and gained strength for the ninthlies and tenthlies of the afternoon, is a pleasant picture in the midst of the rigorous Sabbath. We like to think there was a little relaxation for the housewives in exchanging their doughnuts and Indian bread, and comparing receipts for the same, and, _perhaps_, indulging in a little week-day gossip, when James Hine was not at hand to “oversee.”

The most notable figure in the town was always the minister. He was _the_ person, the “parson.” Even the “divinity that doth hedge a king” commands hardly more reverence than that which was paid to the early New England minister. The very children were taught to make obeisance to him as he passed along the street. An early rule of the New England churches read as follows: “If any person or persons shall be guilty of speaking against the minister, in any shape, form or manner, or of speaking against his preaching, said person or persons shall be punished by fine, whipping or banishment, or cutting off of ears.”

Mr. Orcutt, in his “History of New Milford,” says that Episcopal Church services were held here as early as 1742, perhaps earlier, Rev. Mr. Beach of Newtown conducting occasional meetings. The first resident Episcopal clergyman was Rev. Solomon Palmer, who came in 1754. The second Episcopal church stood on the lower end of “The Green.” It was consecrated in 1793, though begun many years before.

The Separatists, or Strict Congregationalists, as they were called, built a house of worship in 1761, near the entrance to the present cemetery. They disbanded in 1812. The Baptists had a small church in “The Neck,” now Bridgewater, in 1788, but soon moved away. The Baptist Church in Northville was formed in 1814. In 1825 the Methodist Church was established at Gaylordsville. The Methodist Church in this village was erected in 1849.

The Quakers were early in the field, their first meeting-house in the south part of the town being built about 1742.

The present Congregational Church edifice was built in 1833. In 1883 the beautiful new St. John’s Episcopal Church, which is one of the chief ornaments of our Main Street, was completed. All Saints’ Memorial Episcopal Church was organized in 1880. The beautiful church building was erected later on Aspetuck Hill, in memory of the late Judge David C. Sanford, by his wife. It was consecrated in 1888. The Church of St. Francis Xavier, Roman Catholic, was built about 1860, and has a large and flourishing congregation. The most recent addition to our list of churches is the Advent Church, which has done an excellent work already in our community. It was built in 1901.

From very ancient times it seems to have been ordained that harmony and discord should go hand in hand in the churches, for no subject was more prolific of disturbance than the singing. In the first days of New Milford the deacons led the singing, standing in front of the pulpit. There seems to have been a difference of opinion as to any change, for, in 1739, a meeting was held “to consider about the singing of God’s praises in the congregation,” and it was voted “that we should ‘half’ the time; that is, to sing one day all the old way, and the next Sabbath all the new way, for the space of one year, and then have a reconsideration of the matter.” Samuel Bostwick was chosen chorister for the new way, and “Nathan Botsford second, in case of the other’s absence.”

The difference continued, for the following year a meeting was called to “agree about the singing in church.” It was put to vote that all in favor of singing all together the old way should go to the east end of the meeting-house, and those for the new way to the west end. On being counted, thirty favored the new way, against sixteen for the old. They peaceably voted that the majority should rule.

Eight years later a new trouble arose as to using Dr. Watts’ version of the Psalms. It was voted “that Dr. Watts’ version be sung the last singing in the afternoon on the Sabbath and at lectures.” The next year it was voted to sing from the old version in the morning, and from Dr. Watts’ version in the afternoon, for one year, and then altogether from Dr. Watts. Who could imagine Dr. Watts as a dangerous innovation!

Up to this time no reference is found here to any musical instrument but the pitch pipe. The bass viol and the rest of the stringed instruments must have come into use in the church services soon after. How the old fugue tunes, with the parts chasing each other all the way through, must have shaken the rafters and waked all the sleepers, without the help of the tithing man!

This town very early began to uphold morality and order. In that first century it fined certain persons “for bringing into the town unwholesome inhabitants.”

The care with which the town guarded its temporal interests is shown by an early vote, “that a black bonnet, a red woman’s cloak, and a worsted gown belonging to Hannah Beeman, deceased, be kept for her daughter till she is of age; if she die under age, the town to have them.”

The cause of education went hand in hand with that of religion in those early days. When there were but twenty-five families in the town, a public school was ordered. In town meeting, September, 1721, it was voted that a school be maintained for four months, the town to bear half the charge. The next year a committee was appointed to raise money to hire a schoolmaster three months in winter, and a schoolmistress three months in summer. One of these early schoolmistresses was the little daughter of John Noble, who had come hither with him alone through the wilderness. Deacon Sherman Boardman, son of the Rev. Daniel, mentions going to school to her, and says she was an excellent teacher. The “little red schoolhouse” was preceded by the log schoolhouse, which was soon a frequent landmark through the town. The town was often divided into new districts. In 1782 there were twenty-one school districts. In 1787 a new building for townhouse and schoolhouse together was erected at the north end of the Main Street.

The singing schools were a pleasant feature of early days, and, in a time of few pleasures, afforded a harmless enjoyment. They were usually held in the schoolhouses, but sometimes at a dwelling in the neighborhood. In 1792 Mr. Cyrene Stilson is recorded as beginning a singing school at a private house. There are to-day treasured in many of our homes, brass candlesticks that were kept bright by our grandmothers to carry to the schoolhouse for the evening singing school. They suggest many bits of romance. When the boys were privileged to walk home with the girls, they carried the candlesticks, we hope, and they doubtless lingered on the broad doorstep sometimes, in spite of zero weather.

HOME OF NATHANIEL TAYLOR. JR. HOME OF REV. NATHANIEL TAYLOR.

Gen. LaFayette lodged here for a night Count Rochambeau spent a night here during the Revolution during the Revolution]

One of the brightest spots in New Milford history is the patriotism the town has shown through all its generations. This sentiment seems to have been a perennial spring in the hearts of the inhabitants, ready to burst out into action whenever a crisis arose.

The long list of soldiers in the wars is proof of this. The War of the Revolution called out a host of brave men from New Milford. Not less patriotic was the minister, Rev. Nathaniel Taylor. He had long before served as chaplain in the French and Indian War, and, in 1779, he remitted his entire salary to alleviate the suffering caused by the war. It is inspiring to read that in this same year the county treasurer at Litchfield received the sum of ninety-four pounds sixteen shillings, by the hand of Col. Samuel Canfield--money contributed by the first Ecclesiastical Society of New Milford, for the relief of the distressed inhabitants of the towns of New Haven, Fairfield, and Norwalk.

The actual conflict came no nearer than Danbury. A large number of our citizens participated in that battle. The sending out of troops, and the mourning in many households for those who did not return, must have kept the war very near to the hearts of all the inhabitants of the town. Furthermore, the presence of three brigades (nearly 5000 men) in camp on Second Hill, for nearly a month in the autumn of 1778, brought the war atmosphere almost to their very doors.

Once during the war Lafayette and Rochambeau were entertained over night here; Rochambeau, at the home of Rev. Nathaniel Taylor, north of the present Congregational Church, and Lafayette, at the house of the son of Rev. Nathaniel, Nathaniel, Jr., south of the church.

There was a pretty romance of the war here also. Major Jones of Virginia, in charge of the commissary stores kept here the summer after the burning of Danbury, fell in love with pretty Tamar Taylor, the minister’s daughter. We have the story from Mrs. Helen Carr, the granddaughter of Tamar Taylor, as she heard it from the lips of her grandmother. The Major’s affection seems to have been returned, but her parents frowned upon the affair for the sole reason that they could never let their daughter go to that far country--Virginia. The wooer was said to be “a very fine man, who won golden opinions from everyone,” the question of distance being the only obstacle to parental consent.

Four years later Major Jones wrote to Daniel Everett of New Milford, his sweetheart’s brother-in-law and his near friend, from Yorktown, during the siege, shortly before the surrender of Cornwallis. Even that exciting and arduous time seems not to have made him forget the young lady, for he says: “She is never out of my mind, though it seems Fortune has not been so favorable as to allot us to the possession of each other in this short transitory life, or if she has, parents seem to clash.... I wish I had time to write you fully on a subject that floats in my head, the last when I go to bed and the first when I awake, but must omit it till a future opportunity.”

After the war was over and the country had become settled, Major Jones, with his body servant, journeyed on horseback from his Virginia home to New Milford; but the journey was in vain, and he went sorrowfully home alone. Pretty Temmie Taylor seems not to have been inconsolable, for she was happily married later to the Hon. Nicholas Masters of this place. Mrs. Carr still cherishes the ring and locket given her grandmother by the earlier lover; and when we touched the ancient tokens, the long years fell away, and we, too, seemed to live in the love story of olden time.

New Milford was on one of the regular post roads from Philadelphia to Boston, and, if the old highways could speak, they might tell many stories of distinguished men who have travelled over them. We read in the letters of John Adams of his going through this town on his way to the Congress in Philadelphia. During the war there was frequent passing through the place of both British and Continental troops.

When the war was over there was still further expression of the patriotic sentiments of the people in a vote “that none of those persons who have voluntarily gone over and joined the enemy, shall be suffered to abide and continue in the town during the present situation of our public affairs.” A committee was appointed to carry out these resolutions, with the result that several never came back, and their lands were confiscated by the State.

We learn of much pleasant social life in the peaceful days following the war. There were the “assemblies.” An invitation card for one of these functions is for “Friday Evening, July third next, at six o’clock.” What would the young people of our day think of that? Another is for a “Quarter Ball, at Mr. G. Booth’s Assembly Room, on June 3d at three o’clock, P. M.”! In winter there were merry sleighing parties to neighboring towns. Often large companies in twenty or thirty sleighs enjoyed an early supper together, getting safely home before ten o’clock.

Afternoon teas were frequent; not like yours, dear up-to-date woman of to-day, but “tea-drinkings,” where the women took their knitting work and spent long afternoons in visiting. Mrs. Nathaniel Taylor had on one occasion such a company. The parson, in his study overhead, was greatly interested in the fragments of conversation that floated up to him. Each woman had some exciting tale of her domestic experiences to relate. One quiet sister, unable to hold her own in the babel of tongues, tried again and again to tell her story, beginning, “My goose----.” But each time the quiet voice was drowned, and the story never proceeded further.

When good Parson Taylor was summoned to the tea table he said: “Ladies, I have been so interested in your conversation, I thought it worth preserving. So I wrote it down and will read it to you.” Great was the amusement when he read the persistent efforts of their friend to tell the story of “My Goose.” After all, human nature is much the same in all generations.

The town enjoyed in the old days quite a reputation for good living, and many were the notable feasts cooked over the great fireplaces and in the huge brick ovens before the days of stoves and ranges. What an amount of seasoned hickory logs went up the chimney in smoke to cook them! Forty cords of wood, the record gives, as one item of the minister’s salary for the year.

The means of transportation in early times furnished one of the most serious problems. The Housatonic Railroad was not completed till 1840. Before this, all transportation of produce and merchandise was by wagons to Bridgeport, and thence by sloop to New York. The mail also came in much the same way, being brought here from Bridgeport by a carrier on horseback. Our old friend, the late Colonel Wm. J. Starr, remembered the postman of his childhood days, who announced his arrival by shouting as he rode, “News! News! Some lies and some trues!”

We owe to Colonel Starr a vivid picture of the Main Street of the village nearly a century ago, as he recalled it. It is not an agreeable picture. Pigs were kept in the street, and before almost every house was a long trough, where twice a day they were fed. We can hardly wonder that fevers broke out mysteriously. Geese also roamed at will, and mischievous youths were known to play a practical joke on some unpopular man by penning all the geese in the village into his front porch during the night.

Many of the front yards were adorned with huge wood-piles. A part of the street was a swamp, through which ran a crooked water course that, after a shower, left pools of mud, in which pigs and cattle cooled themselves, for “The Green” was also a cattle pasture. The story is told of a dignified gentleman of the old school, who, dressed in immaculate white on a summer Sunday, was hastening across “The Green” to church, making his way among the puddles, when a large hog, frightened from a pool, ran violently against him. He had an unsought ride on its back across the street, and was deposited in a puddle, in full view of the waiting congregation gathered on the church steps.

In 1838 the open-paved watercourse through “The Green” was constructed and was regarded as a grand improvement.

The Village Improvement Society as organized in 1871,

An early and beloved physician. B. 1782, d. 1862.]

and, a little later, under its auspices, “The Green” was put in its present attractive condition, a covered brick sewer being laid to replace the open-paved watercourse which previously ran through the center of the street. This was accomplished on the initiative, and largely though the instrumentality, of Mr. and Mrs. William D. Black, whose efforts and energies were always directed for the benefit of the village. A large and successful fair to raise money for this purpose was held in a tent on “The Green” in July, 1872, and the residents of Main Street accepted a voluntary assessment of a large amount to perfect the work.

A familiar and welcome sight of long ago was the village doctor on horseback with his saddlebags. He was the friend of everyone, beloved and venerated next to the minister. His store of huge pills and herbs and simples carried healing and comfort to all the countryside. Dr. Jehiel Williams was the last of these old-time doctors in New Milford. He is still remembered by many with reverent tenderness. His kindness knew no bounds, and his hearty laugh carried cheer wherever he went. A cautious man he was. Even his most cherished opinions were always prefaced with “I ’most guess.” He was cautious also in his remedies, and the overworked woman of this busy age would hardly accept his cure for nerves and sleeplessness: “Take a hop, put it in a teacup and fill the cup with hot water. Drink it at night and I ’most guess you will feel better.” It was whispered that his huge pills were often made of bread, when he felt none were needed.

He rode up and down the hills for a lifetime, charging twenty-five cents for a visit, fifty cents when the journey was long--afterwards sixty-two and a half cents! On one occasion he rode five miles to find that his patient had been already relieved by some housewife’s simple remedy. He declined any fee, merely saying, “What I have learned in this cure is worth far more to me than the trouble of coming.”

He was friend and helper to three generations, and when, at last, full of years and honors, he went to his well-earned rest, every household of the town mourned his departure.

Slavery existed here, as elsewhere in New England, in the first century of the town. A written advertisement for a runaway slave, offering a reward for his capture, and signed, “Gideon Treat, New Milford, September, 1774,” is still in existence. It sounds strange enough to twentieth century ears. Judging from the records, slaves were generally well treated in New Milford, and many owners freed their own negroes long before the days of slavery were over.

A woman is recorded as the first in our town to free a slave. Mary Robburds, in 1757, gave her negro servant Dan his freedom. Partridge Thatcher, a lawyer here, was especially noted for his kindness to his slaves. Judge David S. Boardman wrote concerning him: “He had no children, but a large number of negroes whom he treated with a kindness enough to put to shame the reproaches of all the Abolitionists of New England.” And he freed them all during his lifetime.

But the sins of old days in this matter were somewhat atoned for in after years by the zeal of the Abolitionists of New Milford in aiding runaway slaves to reach Canada and freedom. In the later days of slavery in the South there were several stations of the Underground Railroad in this vicinity. Mr. Charles Sabin’s house in Lanesville was one, and the house of Mr. Augustine Thayer on Grove Street in this village was another. Mr. Thayer and his good wife devoted their lives to the Abolition cause. They helped many poor slaves on their way, rising from their beds in the night to feed and minister to them, and secreting them till they could be taken under cover of darkness to Deacon Gerardus Roberts’ house on Second Hill, from there to Mr. Daniel Platt’s in Washington, and so on, by short stages, all the way until the Canadian border was reached.

The spirit and courage of the fathers have descended to the sons through many generations. This has been proved again and again in later years, notably in our Civil War. During all the dark four years from the terrible day when the flag fell at Fort Sumter to the memorable rejoicing over the fall of Richmond, there were not wanting brave sons of this old town

Born 1776, died 1870

A resident of New Milford for One Hundred Years]

Born 1832, died 1901

Son of David C. Sanford: Attorney at the Fairfield and Litchfield County Bars]

Born 1798, died 1864

A Justice of the Supreme Court of Connecticut]

Born 1836, died 1889

Member of firm of Ball, Black & Co., New York City; for eighteen years a resident of New Milford and active in the development of the town till his death, 1889]

to offer their lives, and fathers to give of their substance. The daughters of the town vied with each other in loyal labors for their country, and, gave their time with their hearts to loving ministry.

In recent days the courage of our citizens has been “tried as by fire.” The great conflagration of May, 1902, swept away the entire business portion of the village; yet the Puritan fathers could not have met disaster more stoically than our brave men of to-day. The cheerful optimism that built “Shanty Town” on “The Green” while the ruins were still smouldering showed that the stout hearts of old New Milford were the same in the _new_, and that noble lives have been its inheritance through all its years.

We smile as we recall the old days and ways, but we bare our heads reverently before those godly men and women whose hardships meant a better way for us. Two hundred years hence others will read _our_ record, and smile, perhaps. Will it be as worthy?

THE OWNERS OF NEW MILFORD

NAMES OF THE PROPRIETORS IN THE MILFORD COMPANY, WHO, UNDER A DEED OF DATE OF JUNE, 1703, WERE THE OWNERS OF THE TOWN OF NEW MILFORD

COMPILED AND ARRANGED BY GENERAL HENRY STUART TURRILL[1]

The following were proprietors to the amount of £1 4s.: Col. Robert Treat, Mr. Thomas Clark, Ensign George Clark, Lieut. Joseph Treat, Ensign Joseph Peck, Jonathan Baldwin, committee; Capt. Samuel Eells, Sergt. Edward Camp, Rev. Mr. Andrews, Thomas Wlech, James Prime, Stephen Miles, Barnabas Baldwin, John Woodruff, Mr. Richard Bryan, Daniel Terrell, Samuel Brisco, Timothy Botsford, Sergt. Daniel Baldwin, Mr. Robert Treat, Deacon Platt, Thomas Clark, Mr. Samuel Clark, Jr., Samuel Buckingham, Thomas Buckingham, John Buckingham, William Wheeler, Nathaniel Farrand, Sr., George Allen, Samuel Camp (mason), John Smith ye 4th, Samuel Clark, Sr., Ephraim Burwell, Joseph Beard, Joseph Camp, Samuel Camp (Lanesend), Nathaniel Farrand, Jr., Thomas Tibbals, Thomas Canfield, John Merwin, Samuel Smith (West end), William Gold, Joseph Wheeler, John Prince, Samuel Camp, (son of Edward Camp), Eleazor Prindle, Lieut. Camp, William Scone, Samuel Baldwin (wheelwright), Lieut. Joseph Platt, Sergt. Miles Merwin, Samuel Sanford, Sr., John Beard, Mr. Samuel Andrews, Sr., George Clark, Sr., Joseph Clarke, Joseph Peck, Jr., John Camp, Sergt. John Smith, Jonathan Law, Jr., John Allen, Hugh Grey, Joseph Ashburn, John Summers, James Fenn, Zachariah Whitman, William Adams, Joseph Rogers, Samuel Stone, Jonathan Baldwin, Jr.; Jesse Lambert, Frederick Prudden, Sergt. Zachariah Baldwin, Benjamin Smith, Sr., John Smith, Jr., John Platt, Josiah Platt, Richard Platt, Samuel Prindle, Sergt. Samuel Beard, Sergt. Samuel Northrope, George Clarke, Jr., Samuel Coley, Samuel Merwin, Lieut. Samuel Burwell, Samuel Miles, James Beard, Samuel Nettleton, Joseph Treat (son of Lieut. Treat), Jeremiah Canfield, Thomas Smith, Nathaniel Baldwin, Jr., Jeremiah Beard, Bethel Lankstaff, Andrew Sanford, Sr., Nath. Sanford, John Merwin, Joseph Tibbals, Billin Baldwin (in right of her father, Sergt. Timothy Baldwin, deceased), and Mr. Samuel Mather.

The following were proprietors to the amount 12s.: Mr. Robert Plumb, Andrew Sanford, Widow Mary Baldwin, James Baldwin, Nathaniel Baldwin (cooper), Henry Summers, Samuel Smith (water), John Clark, and William Fowler.

TWO HUNDRED YEARS AGO

CONTRIBUTED BY SARAH SANFORD BLACK

Upon this hilltop stood the doughty priest
And bade his minions, men of brawn and bone,
To dig for water ere the frost should come
To lock the land and shroud the hill in snow,
Two hundred years ago.
And here they labored long and valiantly,
Till far beneath the sod a rill arose
And ’twixt the rocks a stream broke forth
And sparkled in the Autumn evening glow
Two hundred years ago.

“Thank God for water pure and clear,” he cried,
And in the twilight grey the good priest stood
And looking off beyond the valley fair,
To where the same hills which we love and know,
Two hundred years ago
Seemed to touch Paradise, as now, he called
On God, the wanderers’ God, to bless the well
Which was to them that day, the most desired
Of all the gifts which man or beast could know,
Two hundred years ago.

The years have passed, two hundred years,--and now
We stand beside the well, which was the first
Our village knew,--“The Ancient Boardman Well”;
To-day the bucket dips, the waters flow,
Just as they did
Two hundred years ago.
We look where purple hilltops touch the sky,
We kneel and thank our God for all the past--

Dug by Priest Daniel Boardman. The property is now owned by Mrs. William D. Black, and known as “Hickory Hearth”.]

They clasped His hand as we do, tho’ that day
All that their future held they could not know
As we know now,--
Two hundred years ago.

We thank our fathers’ God for all His care,
For smiling fields and busy haunts of men,--
For all the gifts of Science and of Art,--
For lives whose deeds His loving guidance show
Brave as those lives
Two hundred years ago.
All are from Him, these works of hand and brain
His love has made men wise, has kept men true,
Since first upon this hilltop life began,
And water in the wilderness did flow
Here at this well
Two hundred years ago.

THE TWO ABIGAILS

REMINISCENCES OF A TYPICAL NEW MILFORD FAMILY

CONTRIBUTED BY GENERAL HENRY STUART TURRILL

Caleb Terrill, eldest son of Daniel and Zorvia (Canfield) Terrell, was born in Milford, Connecticut, December 3, 1717. Nearing his majority, he was given the right of land in New Milford of which his grandfather, Daniel, Sr., was the original proprietor. The first allotment to this right was made April 14, 1729, and consisted of about forty-two acres of land on Second Hill, fronting the old Bostwick place. Here, in the spring of 1738, Caleb built his house, cleared a little part of his land and planted a small garden. Late in the summer he returned to Milford. In September he married, in Stratford, Abigail, daughter of Josiah and Alice (Canfield) Bassett, his first cousin, and, in a few days, returned with his bride to the little home on Second Hill. On this spot he lived until his death, February 29, 1796.

This house was the home of his youngest son, Major Turrill, until his death in 1847. Among my very earliest recollections, is a visit to this old place. It was in 1846. I had just passed my fourth birthday, and spent my first day at school. So I, as the youngest of my name, was taken by my father to pay my respects to the oldest living member of my family. I think that this visit produced one of the most lasting impressions of my childhood. I can recall it now, sixty years after. At that time Major Turrill was seventy-eight years old. The large splint-bottomed chair in which he was seated had four enormous legs, seemingly six inches in diameter at least, the two in front continuing up to support the broad arms on which his hands reposed, the two behind extending far above his head. As he rested his head against the broad splint back, he produced the effect of a grand old gentleman in a rustic frame. Major Turrill was a broad-shouldered man of medium height, very upright even in his seventy-eighth year. He had a large, well-formed head and a strong face of a rather stern cast of countenance, while his hair, which was abundant, was steel gray rather than white. My father presented me to him as the youngest of the race, who had just commenced his life work by his first day at school. He called me to him and, placing a broad hand upon my head, said to my father, “A fine little lad,” then turning to me he said, “You must grow up as fine a man as your grandfather, and stand for your country as he stood for it.”

The marriage of Caleb and Abigail, descended as they were from some of the most important of the founder families (she, from the Baldwins, Bryans, Bruens, and Schells, he, from the Fitches, Pratts and Uffords, and both, from the Canfields, the Mallorys and the Cranes), was an event of great importance in Stratford and Milford; and, when it was known that Caleb was to take his bride to the new Plantation of the Weantinaug, the interest in the affair was much deepened. The conditions in those days were quite different from what they are at present. There were no parlor cars, nor honking autos to whisk the blushing bride, amid a shower of rice and old shoes, to the seclusion of the city hotel, there to hide her nuptial joys among the unknown multitude. So Caleb and Abigail were married in that pleasant Stratford home, she, surrounded by the friends of her girlhood, who, if the records are to be believed, were about the whole community, and he, supported by his three stalwart brothers and troops of cousins. A few days were passed in all the feasting and gayeties of the times, after which the young couple, surrounded by a band of the Stratford friends, started on their wedding journey. At the ferry across the “Great River,” they were bidden farewell on the Stratford bank, only to be received on the Milford shore by an equally enthusiastic band of Milford friends, and to be escorted to Caleb’s home in Milford. This was the founder home of Roger, and Caleb was the fourth generation to bring a bride to its shelter. His bride was a namesake of an earlier Abigail, who, ninety-nine years before, had come with her life mate to the then wilderness of Milford. Now, this second Abigail, this tenderly reared girl of scarce eighteen summers, was starting with her life mate, for another wilderness--the New Milford.

After a short stay at the old Tyrrell home, the wedding journey was resumed, up the “Great River” to the Weantinaug country. The “house plenishing,” demanded by the customs of those days, had been furnished by Josiah Bassett, and had been securely packed in a stout boat to be rowed and poled up the river, this being, at that time, the only means of conveying heavy articles to the settlements above. The various animals necessary to farming, although scarce in the New plantations, were plentiful in the older ones; and, since Daniel Terrell was a man of “much substance,” as the records say, an abundant supply had been assembled at the usual starting place for the journey up the river to the “Cove,” just above Goodyear’s Island. On a bright September morning, surrounded by brothers and sisters from both families, and a large company of friends and relatives, the newly-married pair set forth.

The accompanying friends went as far as the first “nooning,” somewhere below Derby. There, the last farewells were said, and Caleb, with his sweet girl wife on the pillion behind him, journeyed to their future home. They moved up the river, camping at night in some quiet nook, their boat, with their provisions and camp equipment, securely fastened to the river’s bank. The bright camp fires flashed out from under the dense foliage of the grand old primeval forests that lined the banks of the Great River, while this pair of children strolled in the deepening gloom, whispering their love, their plans and their hopes of happiness in their home in the wilderness. For four days they thus leisurely journeyed towards the cot on Second Hill, reaching the Cove about noon of the fifth day.

By the mouth of the little brook that falls into the Cove, just at the foot of “Lovers’ Leap,” they made their last camp, while their boat was being unloaded and a more permanent camp

established, for it would be several days before their belongings could be conveyed to their home. As the sun was sinking toward the cover of Green Pond and Candlewood Mountains, Caleb led his bride up the winding trail that mounts the southern face of the grand old cliffs of Falls Mountain to Waramaug’s Grave; and, from that sightly place, she had her first view of the beautiful Weantinaug Valley. Waramaug’s grave has ever been held an almost sacred spot by the descendants of Caleb and Abigail. In my early youth, on just such another September afternoon, I was taken by my father up this winding trail, and sitting on the grass by the side of those honored stones, was told the tale I have been relating, as each succeeding generation of the name had been told it before me.

The wedding journey ended in that rough little home on Second Hill. There, the pair lived for fifty-eight years in happy wedlock; there, they reared a family of fourteen children (eleven sons and three daughters) of whom all came to manhood and womanhood; and, thence, in 1796, at nearly four score years, Caleb went to his eternal rest. Abigail survived him more than twenty years, in the full possession of all her faculties, and, at the extreme age of ninety-seven years, seven months, and eleven days, was laid beside the husband of her youth and the loving companion of so many years.

A wonderful life was that of grandmother Abigail. She lived through four French and Indian wars, and two wars with England. She saw one son go to the last French war and return from the decisive battle on the Heights of Abraham. She saw six sons go to the Revolution, and, having faithfully performed their part in their country’s struggle--at the siege of Boston, in the battle of Long Island and White Plains, in the crossing of the Delaware and at Valley Forge with Washington, in the battles of Trenton, Saratoga, Princeton, Monmouth, and Germantown--return victorious and unscathed. She also saw Stephen and Isaac return from the successful and conclusive struggle at Yorktown. Finally she saw four of her grandsons return from the second contest with England.

It would be hard to find in American history two more remarkable women than the two Abigails of the Tyrrell family. The first, Abigail Ufford, leaving a happy English home in Essex, braving the trials and privations of the American voyage of 1632, lived through the horrors of the Pequot War, and went with her young husband to found a primitive home in Milford. She stood among that company, which, under the umbrageous trees of Peter Prudden’s home lot, listened to the stately Ansantawa, as, plucking a branch from a tree and gathering a grassy clod from the earth, sticking the branch in the clod and sprinkling it with water from the Milford River, he waved it in the air, declaring that he “gave to them forever, the earth with all thereon, the air, and the waters above and below.” In this home, thus acquired, she lived for fifty-five years, rearing eleven children; saw her sons go to King Philip’s War; and saw them when they had reached man’s estate, start off with their loving helpmates, as their father had done before them, to found other homes--in Southold, in Newark, in Stratford, and in Woodbury. Ninety-nine years after, comes into that Milford home the second Abigail, to venture forth in her turn, like the first Abigail, into the wilderness.

NEW MILFORD IN THE WARS

BY GENERAL HENRY STUART TURRILL

For the first fifty years from its settlement by John Noble, the town of New Milford had very little concern in the military affairs of the colonies. The Colony of Connecticut furnished soldiers in the war of 1711 and in 1713; and, in 1721, occurred a great outpouring of Connecticut colonists for foreign service. In 1745 a call came to Connecticut from the sister colonies for large numbers of troops for service outside her borders, and, again, in 1755. In response to these calls, New Milford seems not to have sent any men. The defense of their own town and of its outlying districts was about all the colonists of New Milford undertook in a military way, this being sufficiently strenuous to engage their entire attention.

We are inclined, in these later days, to smile at the train-band of the ancient times, but the train-band service of our Colonial fathers was one of exceeding severity.