SCHOOL-DAYS IN 1800;

OR,

Education as it was a Century Since.

BY

LUCY ELLEN GUERNSEY.

AUTHOR OF

"IRISH AMY," "COMFORT ALLISON," "OPPOSITE NEIGHBOURS," "NELLY, OR, THE BEST INHERITANCE," "TWIN ROSES," "ETHEL'S TRIAL," "RHODA'S EDUCATION," "THE TAME TURTLE," ETC.

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The UNION PRESS Philadelphia.

———————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————— Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1875, by the AMERICAN SUNDAY-SCHOOL UNION, In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. ————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

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WESTCOTT & THOMSON,

Stereotypers and Electrotypers, Philada.

PREFACE. —————

I HAVE tried in these pages to give a faithful record of a state of manners the memory of which is fast passing away. I have drawn my materials from original sources for the most part, and I am specially indebted to Mrs. Chloe Sheldon, an old lady who died in Rochester last summer in her hundred and fourth year. She was a woman of uncommonly acute mind, and retained her faculties to the very last. The story, such as it is, carries its own moral. L. E. G.

GRANDMOTHER'S PREFACE. —————

MY great-grand-daughter Alice Brown, who is at present confined to the house by a sprained ankle, has persuaded me to repeat to her some passages of my early life that she may write them down. She thinks the doing so will be an amusement both to herself and me, and she is pleased also to say that she believes a record of such early times will be worth preserving. Alice is a good child, and so kind and attentive to me when she is able to be about that it is no more than fair I should give her a pleasure when it is in my power. And Alice says also what is quite true—that the memory of those old times is fading day by day. I never was one of those who are always saying that the former times are better than these, but I cannot think it well that the young folks of the present day should think (as some of them seem to think) that their ancestors were all ignorant and half savage. I know that a great deal more is made of education now than was ever the case in my time, but I am not sure that any more is learned. On the whole, it seems to me that people use the word "education" wrongly

when it is made to mean only what is learned out of books. I think when I was teaching my daughter Rachel, Alice's grandmother, to spin wool and flax and to sew and make butter and cheese, I was carrying on her education as much, and perhaps as usefully, as if I had been teaching her geometry and metaphysics. Not that I have any objection to having girls learn mathematics and all the other sciences if they have the time and the health. When I had a young ladies' school of my own, I always tried to give my girls "hungry minds" for all kinds of knowledge. But if they must either give up the science or give up helping at home, I know which I think ought to go. But this is by the way. I have chosen to write this introduction with my own hand, for I am thankful to say that, though I am ninety years old this very day, I can still write and sew and thread my own needle with the help of my glasses. But I find my hand somewhat stiff when I try to write long at a time, and also, I think, Alice will be amused with setting down the

words as I shall dictate them to her. I have had many blessings in my long life for which to be thankful, and it is not one of the least of these that my grandchildren, upon whom I am dependent (if not for my support, yet for that kindness, care, and cherishing love without which life is worth little), have trained their children also to follow in their footsteps, and to pay me that respect which the Bible says is due to age and gray hairs. OLIVIA BROWN.

NOTE BY ALICE BROWN.

I HAVE tried to set down this memoir or story just as grandmother dictated it to me, and on that account there will be found, perhaps, some words and expressions which, although not incorrect, are not in use at the present day. I remember when we studied grammar with our dear Miss Hilliard she made us understand the difference between words and expressions which were obsolete or old-fashioned and those which were ungrammatical or vulgar. But I have thought the story would be more interesting if I wrote it in the dear old lady's own words. I have often tried to persuade her to write a memoir of her own life or let me do so, but I do not suppose the work would ever have been commenced if I had not sprained my ankle in running across the road to save Mrs. Bell's baby, which was just under the feet of Mr. Antis's horse. I am sure I don't regret saving the baby as I did, but I was a good deal vexed about the sprain, which seemed to be one of those which grandma calls unnecessary accidents, because, if Lucinda Bell had been minding the baby instead of scolding Jeduthun Cooke because her

chickens ate his tomatoes, the thing would not have happened. But I am almost reconciled to sitting still and being waited on, since my want of amusement really brought grandmamma to the point of letting me write down some of her early recollections. ALICE BROWN. BOONVILLE, August, 1874.

CONTENTS. —————

CHAPTER

I.—EARLIEST DAYS

II.—EARLY RECOLLECTIONS

III.—GOING TO SCHOOL

IV.—THE TREASURE-SEEKERS

V.—SUNDAY

VI.—THE GREAT BREAK

VII.—AUNT BELINDA

VIII.—MY NEW HOME

IX.—THE DOLL'S TRAGEDY

X.—BOSTON DAYS

XI.—NEW CHANGES

XII.—ELMINA'S FORTUNE

XIII.—NEW SCENES

XIV.—NEW EXPERIENCES

XV.—ENGLISH DAYS

XVI.—ENGLISH SCHOOL-DAYS

XVII.—HOME AGAIN

XVIII.—HOME

XIX.—THE WEEKS OF SECLUSION

XX.—CONCLUSION

SCHOOL-DAYS IN 1800

GRANDMOTHER'S SCHOOL-DAYS. —————

CHAPTER I.

EARLIEST DAYS.

I WAS born in the town of Lee, Massachusetts, on the nineteenth day of October, 1781. The day of my birth was the anniversary of my father's forefathers' landing on this continent one hundred years before, and also of the surrender of Cornwallis at Yorktown—a surrender which really closed the Revolutionary war. My father, who was a dragoon all through the Revolution, was present on that occasion, and has often described the scene to us, telling us how the Germans wept as they laid down their arms, and how the British officers showed their bitter feelings by saluting the French officers on the American side, but refusing even to return the salutes of the Americans. It was hard for them, of course, but they certainly made the matter no better by such an undignified display of temper.

My father's name was Richard Corbet. His family came from Devonshire, and was a branch of a very old family in that country, as I was told when I was in England. Our first ancestor in this country was named Richard Corbet, like my father, and came over to Dorchester in 1680, bringing with him his family and a very respectable property. He first settled in Dorchester, where he was much respected, and from thence his descendants spread over the country. It is said truly that no man's worth depends on his ancestors; but yet I think it is very natural to wish to know something of one's progenitors, and to take a little pride in them if they are respectable people. (Alice says "progenitors" is a long word, but I tell her everybody has a dictionary in these days.)

I do not know that my father's family were remarkable for anything but a kind of sturdy, determined perseverance and honesty and a somewhat warm temper, of which I inherited my full share. They were always a good deal given to both reading and writing, and we have several journals kept by some of them which are very pleasant reading.

My mother's family were also of English descent, but came over at an earlier date. My mother was a daughter of Mr. David Evans of Salisbury, in Connecticut—a gentleman who was extensively engaged in iron works in that place. Before the Revolution he was accounted wealthy for those times and that country, but he gave very largely to the patriotic cause, besides lending a good deal to the government which he never got back again. However, he was always "well off," as the saying is, and gave his children, both boys and girls, an excellent education. He had two boys and three girls, all of them rather distinguished for beauty and talent, and of these children my mother was the youngest. I have never seen a more lovely woman than my mother, nor a woman with a more cultivated mind and taste, though she knew nothing of many things which girls study nowadays. She was rather quiet and retiring—not so brilliant as her sister, my aunt Lydia. But her cultivated mind was the least of her graces. I have never known a more consistent Christian

than she showed herself in every walk of life, nor one who did more to make those happy who came in her way. Her health was never good. She had worked too hard when she was young, taking care of her grandmother, who was a helpless paralytic for many years, and she was always subject to nervous attacks and severe fits of sickness. People talk a great deal of the decay of female health in these days, but I never see any one have such hysteric fits now as used to be very common when I was young. But with all her hindrances, my mother accomplished more work than a great many who have the whole use of their time.

My father settled on a farm in Lee just before the breaking out of the Revolution, and built himself a very good house. When he was married, he took his bride home directly, without any wedding journey such as is the fashion now. Her father had furnished her with everything necessary in great abundance, and nobody could begin married life with better prospects, though even then there was a cloud of war hanging low in the sky, and certain mutterings of thunder which made wise folks foretell a storm. In the second year of their marriage the storm broke and separated my father most of the time for seven long years from his wife and child, for he went into the first regiment of dragoons which was raised in New England, and continued in the same till the end of the war, only coming home now and then for a few weeks at a time. He was in a great many engagements, passed through the disastrous winter at Valley Forge, and "assisted," as the French say, at the surrender of Lord Cornwallis, which virtually put an end to the war; yet he never

had a serious wound nor a dangerous fit of sickness. During his absence my mother lived part of the time in her own house in Lee, and the rest with her father in Salisbury.

When the troops were disbanded, and things were once more in a settled way, my father and mother went to house-keeping again, and shortly afterward I was born, and named Olivia, after my mother's mother, and Yorktown, after a fancy of my father's, since I first saw the light, as I have said, on the very day and hour of the surrender. My mother has told me that she wished to call me Olivia Landon, after a favourite aunt of her own, but my father would not consent, because my uncle Landon's people were Tories. Uncle Landon adhered to the English side during the war, and was so much in earnest that, rather than not live under the king, he sold all his property and moved away to Halifax, after which we lost sight of the family. It certainly showed that he was sincere in his principles, for he had a beautiful place, for which he never got half its value, and he gave up a very good business. I don't think, either, that Halifax could ever have been a pleasant place of residence. Mother was very fond of her aunt Landon, and used

sometimes to say that I resembled her—a remark which always rather annoyed my father, who could see no good in a Tory.

My two Evans aunts married after my mother, and both did very well. Aunt Lydia went to New York State. Her husband was a man of great influence, a large land-owner and much respected. Aunt Roxana, who was the youngest of my aunts, went to New Bedford on a visit to some cousins, and there she fell in with Roger Swayne of Nantucket, captain of a whaler, and married him out of hand. I have heard that her father was not exactly pleased with the match—not that he had anything against Roger Swayne, who was a most respectable man and well-to-do, but he did not quite like the idea of his daughter marrying a sailor, and a Quaker, as Roger was, at least by descent. However, he made no opposition, seeing that the young people were bent upon it, but gave her the same setting-out as he had done to her sisters.

I can just remember Roger Swayne and his wife being at our house on a visit shortly after their marriage. I thought he was the nicest uncle that ever lived, because he told us sea-stories and made us many curious things with his knife—ships and boats, and some more useful articles, for he whittled out a whole set of cedar clothes-pins for my mother, and mended her spinning-wheel for her.

Shortly after Roxana's marriage, Grandfather Evans died, and the family at Salisbury was broken up. Uncle David lived in the old house, it is true, but Uncle William went to Boston, where he married a rich widow, and succeeded to her first husband's business and property. He never came to see us after his marriage, and indeed lived only a little while.

My father's family mostly lived down in Connecticut, and were well-to-do farmers and mechanics. We used to exchange letters now and then, but postage was dear and mails very irregular. Father was always talking of taking mother to visit them, but a convenient time never came.

CHAPTER II.

EARLY RECOLLECTIONS.

I THINK young children begin to notice and remember at a very much earlier age than people generally suppose. I am sure I recollect perfectly well my first going to meeting, though I was not more than three years old, from this circumstance: I was standing up during prayer, as the custom was then, on a little cricket, or foot-stool; and not being well balanced, the stool slipped from under me, and I fell, bumping my chin with considerable force on the edge of the book-board, which caused me to bite my tongue; yet I was so impressed with the necessity of not crying in meeting that I never made a sound. My mother lifted me up and pressed my head against her, and a lady in the next pew, Miss Temperance—or, as she was usually called, Miss Tempy—Hutchinson smiled approvingly, and handed me her fan, I suppose to divert me from my pain and grief. At any rate, it had that effect. It was a very splendid fan, large and wide, with gilt sticks and a painted picture of a gentleman in full court costume bowing to a lady very gayly dressed, and with real gold spangles sewed on her

gown. I was so much impressed with this work of art, and with Miss Tempy's kindness in entrusting to my hands anything so valuable, that I quite forgot my grief, though I had a lump on my chin which lasted for several days. After that I went to meeting regularly; and though I often got very tired and sometimes went to sleep, I should have considered it a great punishment to be left at home.

Our house was very pleasant and comfortable. There were two rooms in front, with a hall and stairs between. In one my father and mother slept, and usually the two younger children had a trundle-bed—an article of furniture much in use in those times, but seldom seen nowadays. The room on the other side was the parlour, or keeping-room, as it was called in some places, because, I suppose, it was "kept" and seldom used except for grand occasions—weddings, funerals, and solemn tea-drinkings. It had a large fire-place, with bright brass and irons to hold the wood, a handsome striped carpet, and other suitable furniture, among which I remember specially a very tall mahogany secretary or bureau, with a book-case on the top, a desk at a convenient height for writing, and a great many drawers, both large and small, which seemed to my youthful imagination to contain untold treasures, though I believe its contents were chiefly table- and house-linen, of which my mother had great store. The book-case was well filled with valuable books, among which was that set of the "Rambler"

which is still in your father's possession, and which was given to my mother for a wedding-present by that same uncle Landon who went away to Canada. Both my father and mother were reading people, and came from families who were very fond of reading and study.

At the back was the kitchen, running nearly the whole width of the house, with a small bed-room and large pantry taken off one end, and a larger bed-room and the cellar and kitchen stairs at the other. I do not know how it would appear to me now; but as I look back at it that kitchen seems to me the pleasantest room I can remember. It was floored with narrow, hard boards which were always kept white as snow, and the walls were finished to the height of one's elbow with painted woods. In the middle of one side was the great fire-place, so wide that I have often of an evening looked up through the chimney and seen the stars. Over the fire were the crane and trammels on which the dinner-pots were hung, and at one side was a large brick oven. It was quite a piece of engineering to make the fire in this fire-place. First, there was the backlog—a log indeed, so large that it often required all a man's strength to get it in place. On this was laid the back-stick, a smaller log, and in front, on the and-irons, the fore-stick. This

was the foundation of the fire, to which lighter fuel was added as required; and the fire was never suffered to go out in cold weather. In summer, however, we did the cooking in an outer kitchen or shed, where there was a small fire-place, and that in the kitchen was filled with asparagus bushes and other green things. Once I remember mother made a bed of garden-mould in the hearth, and planted some nasturtium seeds, which grew and blossomed very nicely, to my great admiration. Over the fire-place always hung a gun, and some crook-necked squashes and special ears of corn reserved for planting.

On one side of the fire-place was the settle, on the other the table and sink, where mother washed her dishes and did her baking and other cooking work. There were plenty of straight-backed, splint-bottom chairs, one or two arm-chairs, and a low sewing- and nursing-chair with rockers which belonged specially to my mother. There were also the dining-table and two small stands; one was my mother's sewing-stand, while the other held the great Bible in which father read at prayers morning and evening. This Bible had pictures in it, and contained the Apocrypha, which was one of our great resources on Sundays when the weather was too bad to go to church. The rest of the house consisted of the two bed-rooms I have mentioned, the outer kitchen, two or three rooms up stairs, one of which was a spare bed-room, and a large garret or store-room.

I must not forget to mention the spinning-wheels which almost always stood either in the kitchen or in my mother's room. There were two of them, the large one for wool and the smaller for flax, and on these were spun most of the clothing of the family. Another wheel stood in the garret, and was brought down when we had a spinning-girl, for mother never liked to have any one use her wheel but herself.