Reminiscence of a Connecticut Winter by Faith Welling Merrill's Grandmother, Cornelia Elisabeth King
Jan. 4th 1892. This cold snowy morning of mid-winter reminds me of the old days between fifty and sixty years ago, when I was a little New England girl, and I will try in these few pages, to give the children of the present generation some idea of life in those early days, in the ordinary New England home.
My home was in the Connecticut river valley, about a mile back from that beautiful stream, and on the stage-coach road between Hartford and Springfield.
As there was no railroad then, the United States mail was carried in the stagecoach; consequently, when the heavy snows of those days came, three and four feet deep, and in some places deeper than that, the
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farmers had to turn out and hitch two or three yoke of oxen to their heavy wood sleds and driving through, to break the roads, frequently getting off the sleds and shoveling ahead where the snow was so deep that the oxen floundered. The weather being bitterly cold, and the people not so warmly clad as now, they often suffered much.
New England people highly valued their common schools, and no child was allowed to remain uneducated. We lived a mile and a quarter from the schoolhouse, and many days, when the snow was piled halfway up the front door and clear up to the windows, my father would take his shovel and make a path out to the road, and then bring the horse and sleigh around for my little sister and myself to ride
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to school, stopping for all the neighbors; children, till the sleigh was loaded: other neighbors would do the same, until in this way every child was placed in school, where a big wood fire was blazing for our comfort. Then, just before four o'clock in the afternoon, the sleighbells were heard jingling in front of the schoolhouse, and soon after, the scholars were sent in an orderly manner to the corner, where the wraps and dinner pails were kept, and as each one passed out the door with hood and cloak on, the girls were taught to turn around and curtsey and say "Good evening" to the teacher and the boys to make a bow with uncovered head, then came the scramble for the sleighs, all were returned to their homes,
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where mothers were waiting with good fires and hot suppers, to welcome them, and glad enough we were to get in from the bitter cold.
People had no matches in those days, and if the fire happened to go out in their huge fire-places, they were obliged to borrow a shovel full of coals from the fire of a more fortunate or more careful neighbor; or sometimes they kindled it by means of a flint. Wood was the only fuel used or known. Our school fire was kept by piling quantities of ashes over the burning brands and coals, but on Monday morning, the scholar whose turn it was to build the fire, had to go across the street and get coals from a neighbor. One cold, snowy Monday, soon after school commenced, we were all alarmed by
the smoke which filled the room, and the cry of fire was raised. The entry way and the threshold of the only door were found to be on fire. The scholars caught up what books they could carry, I taking my little sister and my books and many of us jumped from the windows, which were quite high from the ground. We all fled to the fence corners and huddled together like frightened sheep, expecting to see the old structure consumed. But the teacher and the big boys threw water and piled on snow until the fire was out. Meantime, the report had flown through the neighborhood that the schoolhouse was on fire! Every face blanched and every hand trembled
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as they thought of the peril of the little ones. Mothers and sisters left their wash-tubs, the men their work, and all rushed to the scene only to find the children safe, though rather wet and frightened. I will here mention that as I gathered my books I left my english grammar, hoping it would be destroyed and never thinking that I could have another. I had studied it since I was seven years old and was tired of it; however, the book was saved and my labors with it continued, which was undoubtedly best.
We often ran to school on the snow-drifts which were higher than the fence-tops.
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In speaking of the schools, the contrast of those early days with the present is quite worthy of notice. There were almost no employments which were considered entirely respectable for young women, except teaching, and the compensation for that work was small, ranging from a dollar and a quarter to two dollars per week of five and a half days. The teacher must "board around," allowing to each family a certain number of days for each scholar sent from that home and if a teacher failed to board the allotted time, that family felt slighted.
One of my sisters commenced teaching at the age of sixteen and as she proved to be an excellent teacher, her services
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were in good demand.
She was employed in our neighborhood, and often, when she had a poor boarding place, she would take me aside at noon with my dinner basket, and I would divide the contents of it with her, for which Mother usually made provision.
There was one thing, however, which I thought rather unfair: we had a large spelling class and the one who stood at the head one day must take her place at the foot the next morning, in order to give each one an equal chance. I seldom missed a word, but my sister would sometimes give me either the hardest word or one which was not in the lesson, or if I spelled correctly when two or three above me had missed,
she would give me a hint not to go above them lest she should be accused of partiality. People were quite as sensitive about those things then, as now.
One morning in summer, we were surprised to see her at home very early -- as soon as she entered the door she began to cry, and no wonder, for her face was swollen in big blotches and her whole body was covered with bites, inflicted by unwelcome occupants of her bed, whose persistent attentions became quite unbearable and had kept her awake all night. Even by getting up and wrapping herself in a blanket and sitting in a chair, she had been unable to escape them. The woman of the house wondered why she came home to sleep every night
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after that, while she boarded there. However, no one outside our own family was ever the wiser.
When evening came, the duties of the day being over, the family gathered around the light stand on which were two lighted candles, always made at home, of beef tallow, by the mother and older sisters. The older members of the family plied their needles, either sewing or knitting, as sewing machines were unknown in those days, and all the garments for the family were made at home -- even to the weaving of the cloth for their winter wear. All the stockings, both wool and cotton, were home-knit, so there was no time for idle fingers. The younger children were busy with their lessons.
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My father owned several shares in the shad fisheries on the Connecticut river, and it fell to him to knit the large seines which they used. So in the long winter evenings he was occupied with that and it was my place to fill the large wooden needles with the knitting twine.
Frame houses were almost universally used, and though they were much more substantially built than now, fires were not uncommon. I remember one night in the dead of winter, we were aroused by the cry of fire, and as we rushed from our beds to the windows, we saw the smoke and flames pouring from a large two-story dwelling house, a mile and a half away. The house
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was consumed, and the soul of a dear little four year old boy went up to heaven in a chariot of fire. He was a sunny-faced little fellow whose flaxen curls had been the admiration of my childish heart as he came to church with his grandfather. It seemed very sad to see that little form, all charred to the blackness of a dead coal, as it lay in the coffin. Another fire I call to mind which occurred on Thanksgiving eve, when a family to the number of eighteen had come to the old home to the annual reunion. They were compelled to flee in their nightclothes through snow two feet deep to the house of a neighbor. There was no fire engine or any other
way to put out fire, except by buckets of water handed from one man to another.
In those days there were but few paupers, but those few had a hard time, I am sure, for every spring a town meeting was held and they were put up at auction, the person offering to keep them at the least expense to the town being given the privilege(s). Among them were some insane, but all were obliged to work to the extent of their strength, with but poor food and little clothing. The children, as soon as old enough to do anything, were bound out to work until they became of age; some had good homes, but many of them were abused, although it was
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the law that they should have a certain amount of schooling. As they became of age, if a girl, she was entitled to two changes of clothing, a feather bed and a cow; if a boy, he should have fifty dollars.
Our holidays were few and far between, Thanksgiving and the Fourth of July being the only ones. Christmas was not noticed, neither was New Year's day. We had no occasion for Decoration day, and as for labor day, all days were for labor except fast days and the Sabbath, which was strictly observed. Most of the people laid aside all work at sunset on Saturday, but some of them, I am sorry to say, took up
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their tasks again at sunset of the Sabbath; however, it was not so in our family, as Mother said it would not hurt us to keep holy time both nights, and then, too, we would be sure to be right.
On one occasion, as father and mother were driving through a neighboring town on Sunday with a sick baby, fearing lest it should die before they reached home, they were arrested for Sabbath breaking, but as father laid the case before the justice of the peace, he allowed them to go on, father being justice of the peace in our own town. No person was permitted to drive for pleasure on the Sabbath.
Fast days were kept almost as rigidly, only two meals being allowed
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on those days. I used to steal out behind the barn where my older brother was frequently to be found, fast-day afternoon, cracking butternuts on big rock, and there we had a little feast all to ourselves.
Each farmer killed and cured his own meat, and each had his barrel of pork, one of corned beef, and a barrel of salted shad. When summer came, a calf or lamb was killed for fresh meat, as occasion required. In the fall a half barrel of boiled cider apple-sauce, flavored with quinces, was made for winter use, and in the cellar were long rows of barrels of winter apples, and two or three cider and vinegar barrels, with all sorts of
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vegetables in bins. So there was always a plentiful supply of food, with milk, butter, and eggs. Now come with me and we will see what they are doing in the kitchen of a New England farm house for Thanksgiving. It is Tuesday evening and the chickens to the number of six or eight are being picked and dressed for the famous Yankee chicken pie."
COMMENT: This is an extraordinary first-hand family reminiscence, which by the author's own estimate covers her childhood days along the Connecticut River in the 1830s. My grandmother, Faith Welling Merrill, described the author in the following November 14, 1971 letter to Helen Howard Lane:
"My grandmother, Cornelia Elisabeth King, was born in Suffield, Connecticut, December 8, 1828, the daughter of John Bowker King and Hanna Newton King. She married William S. Park, my grandfather, on August 14, 1850. She was descended from James King, who came from England to Massachusetts in 1662. (His wife was Elizabeth Fuller, whose mother was an Emerson, ancestor of Ralph Waldo Emerson.) Cornelia met my grandfather while visiting her brother Warren in Ohio.
Since I lived at my grandmother's, in Columbus, while I was in high school (my mother being temporarily in Worthington, at the family home), I probably knew her better than the other grandchildren did, and these are my impressions of her:
Slender and darkeyed, she was a typical "gentlewoman." Her interests were intellectual -- she was a great reader, and "authority" in the family on English and spelling, history and current events. She was full of wise sayings, such as, "Blood will tell!" and "Blessed be nothing!" -- which I often quote as I polish silver, for instance! She always wore mourning, after her husband's death, which was the custom in those days...black, and a crepe veil on her bonnet, dresses trimmed in jet! She died when I was twelve or thirteen, and I had so admired her and loved her that I chose to take her name for my middle name, instead of Eloise, which was the one my parents gave me.
She had been well educated at a "young ladies' seminary," where she studied French -- Aunt Frank later had her French grammar. She was refined, dignified, with a nice sense of humor. Indeed, I take pride in her memory. The women of our family are all eligible for DAR and Colonial Dames through her line. Be sure to read our Aunt Frances Park's Story of the Early Park Family. By the way, Helen, I think your mother's mother had Miles Standish for an ancestor!
My grandmother's ancestor, Rev. Ebenezer Devotion (originally de Vaution, French Huguenot), was graduated from Harvard in 1707. His tombstone in Suffield, Conn., bore a very eulogistic epitaph. You should visit Suffield -- Fran and I did. The cemetery, back of the Baptist Church, has many of our forebears buried in it. The Kings, incidentally, have an authentic coat of arms."