Village Life in America 1852-1872.
by Caroline Cowles Richards.
INTRODUCTION
The Diary of Caroline Cowles Richards fell into my hands, so to speak, out of s.p.a.ce. I had no previous acquaintance with the author, and I sat down to read the book one evening in no especial mood of antic.i.p.ation.
From the first page to the last my attention was riveted. To call it fascinating barely expresses the quality of the charm. Caroline Richards and her sister Anna, having early lost their mother, were sent to the home of her parents in Canandaigua, New York, where they were brought up in the simplicity and sweetness of a refined household, amid Puritan traditions. The children were allowed to grow as plants do, absorbing vitality from the atmosphere around them. Whatever there was of gracious formality in the manners of aristocratic people of the period, came to them as their birthright, while the spirit of the truest democracy pervaded their home. Of this Diary it is not too much to say that it is a revelation of childhood in ideal conditions.
The Diary begins in 1852, and is continued until 1872. Those of us who lived in the latter half of the nineteenth century recall the swift transitions, the rapid march of science and various changes in social customs, and as we meet allusions to these in the leaves of the girl"s Diary we live our past over again with peculiar pleasure.
Far more has been told us concerning the South during the Civil War than concerning the North. Fiction has found the North a less romantic field, and the South has been chosen as the background of many a stirring novel, while only here and there has an author been found who has known the deep-hearted loyalty of the Northern States and woven the story into narrative form. The girl who grew up in Canandaigua was intensely patriotic, and from day to day vividly chronicled what she saw, felt, and heard. Her Diary is a faithful record of impressions of that stormy time in which the nation underwent a baptism of fire. The realism of her paragraphs is unsurpa.s.sed.
Beyond the personal claim of the Diary and the certainty to give pleasure to a host of readers, the author appeals to Americans in general because of her family and her friends. Her father and grandfather were Presbyterian ministers. Her Grandfather Richards was for twenty years President of Auburn Theological Seminary. Her brother, John Morgan Richards of London, has recently given to the world the Life and Letters of his gifted and lamented daughter, Pearl Mary-Terese Craigie, known best as John Oliver Hobbes. The famous Field brothers and their father, Rev. David Dudley Field, and their nephew, Justice David J. Brewer, of the United States Supreme Court, were her kinsmen. Miss Hannah Upham, a distinguished teacher mentioned in the Diary, belongs to the group of American women to whom we owe the initiative of what we now choose to call the higher education of the s.e.x. She, in common with Mary Lyon, Emma Willard, and Eliza Bayliss Wheaton, gave a forward impulse to the liberal education of women, and our privilege is to keep their memory green. They are to be remembered by what they have done and by the tender reminiscences found here and there like pressed flowers in a herbarium, in such pages as these.
Miss Richards" marriage to Mr. Edmund C. Clarke occurred in 1866. Mr.
Clarke is a veteran of the Civil War and a Commander in the Grand Army of the Republic. His brother, Noah T. Clarke, was the Princ.i.p.al of Canandaigua Academy for the long term of forty years. The dignified, amusing and remarkable personages who were Mrs. Clarke"s contemporaries, teachers, or friends are pictured in her Diary just as they were, so that we meet them on the street, in the drawing-room, in church, at prayer-meeting, anywhere and everywhere, and grasp their hands as if we, too, were in their presence.
Wherever this little book shall go it will carry good cheer. Fun and humor sparkle through the story of this childhood and girlhood so that the reader will be cheated of ennui, and the sallies of the little sister will provoke mirth and laughter to brighten dull days. I have read thousands of books. I have never read one which has given me more delight than this.
Margaret E. Sangster.
Glen Ridge, New Jersey, June, 1911.
VILLAGE LIFE IN AMERICA
1852 Canandaigua, N. Y.
_November_ 21, 1852.--I am ten years old to-day, and I think I will write a journal and tell who I am and what I am doing. I have lived with my Grandfather and Grandmother Beals ever since I was seven years old, and Anna, too, since she was four. Our brothers, James and John, came too, but they are at East Bloomfield at Mr. Stephen Clark"s Academy.
Miss Laura Clark of Naples is their teacher.
Anna and I go to school at District No. 11. Mr. James C. Cross is our teacher, and some of the scholars say he is cross by name and cross by nature, but I like him. He gave me a book by the name of "n.o.ble Deeds of American Women," for reward of merit, in my reading cla.s.s. To-day, a nice old gentleman, by the name of Mr. William Wood, visited our school.
He is Mrs. Nat Gorham"s uncle, and Wood Street is named for him. He had a beautiful pear in his hand and said he would give it to the boy or girl who could spell "virgaloo," for that was the name of the pear. I spelt it that way, but it was not right. A little boy, named William Schley, spelt it right and he got the pear. I wish I had, but I can"t even remember now how he spelt it. If the pear was as hard as the name I don"t believe any one would want it, but I don"t see how they happened to give such a hard name to such a nice pear. Grandfather says perhaps Mr. Wood will bring in a Seckle pear some day, so I had better be ready for him.
Grandmother told us such a nice story to-day I am going to write it down in my journal. I think I shall write a book some day. Miss Caroline Chesebro did, and I don"t see why I can"t. If I do, I shall put this story in it. It is a true story and better than any I found in three story books Grandmother gave us to read this week, "Peep of Day," "Line Upon Line," and "Precept Upon Precept," but this story was better than them all. One night Grandfather was locking the front door at nine o"clock and he heard a queer sound, like a baby crying. So he unlocked the door and found a bandbox on the stoop, and the cry seemed to come from inside of it. So he took it up and brought it into the dining-room and called the two girls, who had just gone upstairs to bed. They came right down and opened the box, and there was a poor little girl baby, crying as hard as could be. They took it out and rocked it and sung to it and got some milk and fed it and then sat up all night with it, by the fire. There was a paper pinned on the baby"s dress with her name on it, "Lily T. LaMott," and a piece of poetry called "Pity the Poor Orphan." The next morning, Grandfather went to the overseer of the poor and he said it should be taken to the county house, so our hired man got the horse and buggy, and one of the girls carried the baby and they took it away. There was a piece in the paper about it, and Grandmother pasted it into her "Jay"s Morning and Evening Exercises," and showed it to us.
It said, "A Deposit After Banking Hours." "Two suspicious looking females were seen about town in the afternoon, one of them carrying an infant. They took a train early in the morning without the child. They probably secreted themselves in Mr. Beals" yard and if he had not taken the box in they would have carried it somewhere else." When Grandfather told the clerks in the bank about it next morning, Mr. Bunnell, who lives over by Mr. Daggett"s, on the park, said, if it had been left at some people"s houses it would not have been sent away. Grandmother says they heard that the baby was adopted afterwards by some nice people in Geneva. People must think this is a nice place for children, for they had eleven of their own before we came. Mrs. McCoe was here to call this afternoon and she looked at us and said: "It must be a great responsibility, Mrs. Beals." Grandmother said she thought "her strength would be equal to her day." That is one of her favorite verses. She said Mrs. McCoe never had any children of her own and perhaps that is the reason she looks so sad at us. Perhaps some one will leave a bandbox and a baby at her door some dark night.
_Sat.u.r.day._--Our brother John drove over from East Bloomfield to-day to see us and brought Julia Smedley with him, who is just my age. John lives at Mr. Ferdinand Beebe"s and goes to school and Julia is Mr.
Beebe"s niece. They make quant.i.ties of maple sugar out there and they brought us a dozen little cakes. They were splendid. I offered John one and he said he would rather throw it over the fence than to eat it. I can"t understand that. Anna had the faceache to-day and I told her that I would be the doctor and make her a ginger poultice. I thought I did it exactly right but when I put it on her face she shivered and said: "Carrie, you make lovely poultices only they are so cold." I suppose I ought to have warmed it.
_Tuesday._--Grandfather took us to ride this afternoon and let us ask Bessie Seymour to go with us. We rode on the plank road to Chapinville and had to pay 2 cents at the toll gate, both ways. We met a good many people and Grandfather bowed to them and said, "How do you do, neighbor?"
We asked him what their names were and he said he did not know. We went to see Mr. Munson, who runs the mill at Chapinville. He took us through the mill and let us get weighed and took us over to his house and out into the barn-yard to see the pigs and chickens and we also saw a colt which was one day old. Anna just wrote in her journal that "it was a very amusing site."
_Sunday._--Rev. Mr. Kendall, of East Bloomfield, preached to-day. His text was from Job 26, 14: "Lo these are parts of his ways, but how little a portion is heard of him." I could not make out what he meant.
He is James" and John"s minister.
_Wednesday._--Captain Menteith was at our house to dinner to-day and he tried to make Anna and me laugh by snapping his snuff-box under the table. He is a very jolly man, I think.
_Thursday._--Father and Uncle Edward Richards came to see us yesterday and took us down to Mr. Corson"s store and told us we could have anything we wanted. So we asked for several kinds of candy, stick candy and lemon drops and bulls" eyes, and then they got us two rubber b.a.l.l.s and two jumping ropes with handles and two hoops and sticks to roll them with and two red carnelian rings and two bracelets. We enjoyed getting them very much, and expect to have lots of fun. They went out to East Bloomfield to see James and John, and father is going to take them to New Orleans. We hate to have them go.
_Friday._--We asked Grandmother if we could have some hoop skirts like the seminary girls and she said no, we were not old enough. When we were downtown Anna bought a reed for 10 cents and ran it into the hem of her underskirt and says she is going to wear it to school to-morrow. I think Grandmother will laugh out loud for once, when she sees it, but I don"t think Anna will wear it to school or anywhere else. She wouldn"t want to if she knew how terrible it looked.
I threaded a dozen needles on a spool of thread for Grandmother, before I went to school, so that she could slip them along and use them as she needed them. She says it is a great help.
Grandmother says I will have a great deal to answer for, because Anna looks up to me so and tries to do everything that I do and thinks whatever I say is "gospel truth." The other day the girls at school were disputing with her about something and she said, "It is so, if it ain"t so, for Calline said so." I shall have to "toe the mark," as Grandfather says, if she keeps watch of me all the time and walks in my footsteps.
We asked Grandmother this evening if we could sit out in the kitchen with Bridget and Hannah and the hired man, Thomas Holleran. She said we could take turns and each stay ten minutes by the clock. It gave us a little change. I read once that "variety is the spice of life." They sit around the table and each one has a candle, and Thomas reads aloud to the girls while they sew. He and Bridget are Catholics, but Hannah is a member of our Church. The girls have lived here always, I think, but I don"t know for sure, as I have not lived here always myself, but we have to get a new hired man sometimes. Grandmother says if you are as good to your girls as you are to yourself they will stay a long time. I am sure that is Grandmother"s rule. Mrs. McCarty, who lives on Brook Street (some people call it Cat Alley but Grandmother says that is not proper), washes for us Mondays, and Grandmother always has a lunch for her at eleven o"clock and goes out herself to see that she sits down and eats it. Mrs. McCarty told us Monday that Mrs. Brockle"s niece was dead, who lives next door to her. Grandmother sent us over with some things for their comfort and told us to say that we were sorry they were in trouble. We went and when we came back Anna told Grandmother that I said, "Never mind, Mrs. Brockle, some day we will all be dead." I am sure that I said something better than that.
_Wednesday_.--Mr. Cross had us speak pieces to-day. He calls our names, and we walk on to the platform and toe the mark and make a bow and say what we have got to say. He did not know what our pieces were going to be and some of them said the same ones. Two boys spoke: "The boy stood on the burning deck, whence all but him had fled." William Schley was one, and he spoke his the best. When he said, "The flames that lit the battle wreck shone round him o"er the dead," we could almost see the fire, and when he said, "My father, must I stay?" we felt like telling him, no, he needn"t. He is going to make a good speaker. Mr. Cross said so. Albert Murray spoke "Excelsior," and Horace Finley spoke nice, too.
My piece was, "Why, Phoebe, are you come so soon? Where are your berries, child?" Emma Van Arsdale spoke the same one. We find them all in our reader. Sometime I am going to speak, "How does the water come down at Ladore?" Splashing and flashing and dashing and clashing and all that--it rhymes, so it is easy to remember.
We played snap the whip at recess to-day and I was on the end and was snapped off against the fence. It hurt me so, that Anna cried. It is not a very good game for girls, especially for the one on the end.
[Ill.u.s.tration: Grandfather Beals, Grandmother Beals]
_Tuesday._--I could not keep a journal for two weeks, because Grandfather and Grandmother have been very sick and we were afraid something dreadful was going to happen. We are so glad that they are well again. Grandmother was sick upstairs and Grandfather in the bedroom downstairs, and we carried messages back and forth for them. Dr. Carr and Aunt Mary came over twice every day and said they had the influenza and the inflammation of the lungs. It was lonesome for us to sit down to the table and just have Hannah wait on us. We did not have any blessing because there was no one to ask it. Anna said she could, but I was afraid she would not say it right, so I told her she needn"t. We had such lumps in our throats we could not eat much and we cried ourselves to sleep two or three nights. Aunt Ann Field took us home with her one afternoon to stay all night. We liked the idea and Mary and Louisa and Anna and I planned what we would play in the evening, but just as it was dark our hired man, Patrick McCarty, drove over after us. He said Grandfather and Grandmother could not get to sleep till they saw the children and bid them good-night. So we rode home with him. We never stayed anywhere away from home all night that we can remember. When Grandmother came downstairs the first time she was too weak to walk, so she sat on each step till she got down. When Grandfather saw her, he smiled and said to us: "When she will, she will, you may depend on"t; and when she won"t she won"t, and that"s the end on"t." But we knew all the time that he was very glad to see her.
1853
_Sunday, March 20._--It snowed so, that we could not go to church to-day and it was the longest day I ever spent. The only excitement was seeing the snowplow drawn by two horses, go up on this side of the street and down on the other. Grandfather put on his long cloak with a cape, which he wears in real cold weather, and went. We wanted to pull some long stockings over our shoes and go too but Grandmother did not think it was best. She gave us the "Dairyman"s Daughter" and "Jane the Young Cottager," by Leigh Richmond, to read. I don"t see how they happened to be so awfully good. Anna says they died of "early piety," but she did not say it very loud. Grandmother said she would give me 10 cents if I would learn the verses in the New England Primer that John Rogers left for his wife and nine small children and one at the breast, when he was burned at the stake, at Smithfield, England, in 1555. One verse is, "I leave you here a little book for you to look upon that you may see your father"s face when he is dead and gone." It is a very long piece but I got it. Grandmother says "the blood of the martyrs is the seed of the church." Anna learned
"In Adam"s fall we sinned all.
My Book and heart shall never part.
The Cat doth play and after slay.
The Dog doth bite a thief at night."
When she came to the end of it and said,
"Zaccheus he, did climb a tree, his Lord to see."
she said she heard some one say, "The tree broke down and let him fall and he did not see his Lord at all." Grandmother said it was very wicked indeed and she hoped Anna would try and forget it.
_April 1._--Grandmother sent me up into the little chamber to-day to straighten things and get the room ready to be cleaned. I found a little book called "Child"s Pilgrim Progress, Ill.u.s.trated," that I had never seen before. I got as far as Giant Despair when Anna came up and said Grandmother sent her to see what I was doing, and she went back and told her that I was sitting on the floor in the midst of books and papers and was so absorbed in "Pilgrim"s Progress" that I had made none myself. It must be a good book for Grandmother did not say a word. Father sent us "Gulliver"s Travels" and there is a gilt picture on the green cover, of a giant with legs astride and little Lilliputians standing underneath, who do not come up to his knees. Grandmother did not like the picture, so she pasted a piece of pink calico over it, so we could only see the giant from his waist up. I love the story of Cinderella and the poem, ""Twas the night before Christmas," and I am sorry that there are no fairies and no Santa Claus.
We go to school to Miss Zilpha Clark in her own house on Gibson Street.
Other girls who go are Laura Chapin, Julia Phelps, Mary Paul, Bessie Seymour, Lucilla and Mary Field, Louisa Benjamin, Nannie Corson, Kittie Marshall, Abbie Clark and several other girls. I like Abbie Clark the best of all the girls in school excepting of course my sister Anna.
Before I go to school every morning I read three chapters in the Bible.