Transcriber's Note:

This e-text was prepared from the reprint edition published in 1974 byBerkshire Traveller Press. Copyrighted materials from that edition, including the modern preface and illustrations, are not included. 

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Home Life inCOLONIALDAYS

Written byALICE MORSE EARLEin the year 1898

THE BERKSHIRE TRAVELLER PRESSStockbridge, Massachusetts

_THIS BOOK IS BEGUNAS IT IS ENDEDIN MEMORY OF MY MOTHER_

_Foreword_

_The illustrations for this book are in every case from real articlesand scenes, usually from those still in existence--rare relics of pastdays. The pictures are the symbols of years of careful search, patientinvestigation, and constant watchfulness. Many a curious article asnameless and incomprehensible as the totem of an extinct Indian tribehas been studied, compared, inquired and written about, and finallytriumphantly named and placed in the list of obsolete domesticappurtenances. From the lofts of woodsheds, under attic eaves, in dairycellars, out of old trunks and sea-chests from mouldering warehouses, have strangely shaped bits and combinations of wood, stuff, and metalbeen rescued and recognized. The treasure stores of Deerfield MemorialHall, of the Bostonian Society, of the American Antiquarian Society, andmany State Historical Societies have been freely searched; and to theofficers of these societies I give cordial thanks for their coöperationand assistance in my work. _

_The artistic and correct photographic representation of many of theseobjects I owe to Mr. William F. Halliday of Boston, Massachusetts, Mr. George F. Cook of Richmond, Virginia, and the Misses Allen of Deerfield, Massachusetts. To many friends, and many strangers, who have secured forme single articles or single photographs, I here repeat the thanksalready given for their kindness. _

_There were two constant obstacles in the path: An article would befound and a name given by old-time country folk, but no dictionarycontained the word, no printed description of its use or purpose couldbe obtained, though a century ago it was in every household. Again, somecuriously shaped utensil or tool might be displayed and its useindicated; but it was nameless, and it took long inquiry anddeduction, --the faculty of "taking a hint, "--to christen it. It is plainthat different vocations and occupations had not only implements but avocabulary of their own, and all have become almost obsolete; to thevarious terms, phrases, and names, once in general application and usein spinning, weaving, and kindred occupations, and now half forgotten, might be given the descriptive title, a "homespun vocabulary. " Bydefinite explanation of these terms many a good old English word andphrase has been rescued from disuse. _

 _ALICE MORSE EARLE. _

Contents

 Page

 I. Homes of the Colonists 1

 II. The Light of Other Days 32

 III. The Kitchen Fireside 52

 IV. The Serving of Meals 76

 V. Food from Forest and Sea 108

 VI. Indian Corn 126

 VII. Meat and Drink 142

VIII. Flax Culture and Spinning 166

 IX. Wool Culture and Spinning, with a Postscript on Cotton 187

 X. Hand-Weaving 212

 XI. Girls' Occupations 252

 XII. Dress of the Colonists 281

XIII. Jack-knife Industries 300

 XIV. Travel, Transportation, and Taverns 325

 XV. Sunday in the Colonies 364

 XVI. Colonial Neighborliness 388

XVII. Old-time Flower Gardens 421

Home Life in Colonial Days

CHAPTER I

HOMES OF THE COLONISTS

When the first settlers landed on American shores, the difficulties infinding or making shelter must have seemed ironical as well as almostunbearable. The colonists found a land magnificent with forest trees ofevery size and variety, but they had no sawmills, and few saws to cutboards; there was plenty of clay and ample limestone on every side, yetthey could have no brick and no mortar; grand boulders of granite androck were everywhere, yet there was not a single facility for cutting, drawing, or using stone. These homeless men, so sorely in need ofimmediate shelter, were baffled by pioneer conditions, and had to turnto many poor expedients, and be satisfied with rude covering. InPennsylvania, New York, Massachusetts, and, possibly, other states, somereverted to an ancient form of shelter: they became cave-dwellers; caveswere dug in the side of a hill, and lived in till the settlers couldhave time to chop down and cut up trees for log houses. Cornelis VanTienhoven, Secretary of the Province of New Netherland, gives adescription of these cave-dwellings, and says that "the wealthy andprincipal men in New England lived in this fashion for two reasons:first, not to waste time building; second, not to discourage poorerlaboring people. " It is to be doubted whether wealthy men ever lived inthem in New England, but Johnson, in his _Wonder-working Providence_, written in 1645, tells of the occasional use of these "smoaky homes. "They were speedily abandoned, and no records remain of permanentcave-homes in New England. In Pennsylvania caves were used by newcomersas homes for a long time, certainly half a century. They generally wereformed by digging into the ground about four feet in depth on the banksor low cliffs near the river front. The walls were then built up of sodsor earth laid on poles or brush; thus half only of the chamber wasreally under ground. If dug into a side hill, the earth formed at leasttwo walls. The roofs were layers of tree limbs covered over with sod, orbark, or rushes and bark. The chimneys were laid of cobblestone orsticks of wood mortared with clay and grass. The settlers were thankfuleven for these poor shelters, and declared that they found themcomfortable. By 1685 many families were still living in caves inPennsylvania, for the Governor's Council then ordered the caves to bedestroyed and filled in. Sometimes the settler used the cave for acellar for the wooden house which he built over it. 

These cave-dwellings were perhaps the poorest houses ever known by anyAmericans, yet pioneers, or poor, or degraded folk have used them forhomes in America until far more recent days. In one of these miserablehabitations of earth and sod in the town of Rutland, Massachusetts, werepassed some of the early years of the girlhood of Madame Jumel, whosebeautiful house on Washington Heights, New York, still stands to showthe contrasts that can come in a single life. 

The homes of the Indians were copied by the English, being readyadaptations of natural and plentiful resources. Wigwams in the Southwere of plaited rush or grass mats; of deerskins pinned on a frame; oftree boughs rudely piled into a cover, and in the far South, of layersof palmetto leaves. In the mild climate of the Middle and Southernstates a "half-faced camp, " of the Indian form, with one open side, which served for windows and door, and where the fire was built, made agood temporary home. In such for a time, in his youth, lived AbrahamLincoln. Bark wigwams were the most easily made of all; they could bequickly pinned together on a light frame. In 1626 there were thirtyhome-buildings of Europeans on the island of Manhattan, now New York, and all but one of them were of bark. 

Though the settler had no sawmills, brick kilns, or stone-cutters, hehad one noble friend, --a firm rock to stand upon, --his broad-axe. Withhis axe, and his own strong and willing arms, he could take a long stepin advance in architecture; he could build a log cabin. These good, comfortable, and substantial houses have ever been built by Americanpioneers, not only in colonial days, but in our Western and Southernstates to the present time. A typical one like many now standing andoccupied in the mountains of North Carolina is here shown. Round logswere halved together at the corners, and roofed with logs, or with barkand thatch on poles; this made a comfortable shelter, especially whenthe cracks between the logs were "chinked" with wedges of wood, and"daubed" with clay. Many cabins had at first no chinking or daubing; onesettler while sleeping was scratched on the head by the sharp teeth of ahungry wolf, who thrust his nose into the space between the logs of thecabin. Doors were hung on wooden hinges or straps of hide. 

A favorite form of a log house for a settler to build in his first "cutdown" in the virgin forest, was to dig a square trench about two feetdeep, of dimensions as large as he wished the ground floor of his house, then to set upright all around this trench (leaving a space for afireplace, window, and door), a closely placed row of logs all the samelength, usually fourteen feet long for a single story; if there was aloft, eighteen feet long. The earth was filled in solidly around theselogs, and kept them firmly upright; a horizontal band of puncheons, which were split logs smoothed off on the face with the axe, wassometimes pinned around within the log walls, to keep them from cavingin. Over this was placed a bark roof, made of squares of chestnut bark, or shingles of overlapping birch-bark. A bark or log shutter was hung atthe window, and a bark door hung on withe hinges, or, if very luxurious, on leather straps, completed the quickly made home. This was calledrolling-up a house, and the house was called a puncheon and bark house. A rough puncheon floor, hewed flat with an axe or adze, was truly aluxury. One settler's wife pleaded that the house might be rolled uparound a splendid flat stump; thus she had a good, firm table. A smallplatform placed about two feet high alongside one wall, and supported atthe outer edge with strong posts, formed a bedstead. Sometimes hemlockboughs were the only bed. The frontier saying was, "A hard day's workmakes a soft bed. " The tired pioneers slept well even on hemlock boughs. The chinks of the logs were filled with moss and mud, and in the autumnbanked up outside with earth for warmth. 

These log houses did not satisfy English men and women. They longed tohave what Roger Williams called English houses, which were, however, scarcely different in ground-plan. A single room on the ground, calledin many old wills the fire-room, had a vast chimney at one end. Aso-called staircase, usually but a narrow ladder, led to a sleeping-loftabove. Some of those houses were still made of whole logs, but withclapboards nailed over the chinks and cracks. Others were of a lighterframe covered with clapboards, or in Delaware with boards pinned onperpendicularly. Soon this house was doubled in size and comfort byhaving a room on either side of the chimney. 

Each settlement often followed in general outline as well as detail thehouses to which the owners had become accustomed in Europe, with, ofcourse, such variations as were necessary from the new surroundings, newclimate, and new limitations. New York was settled by the Dutch, andtherefore naturally the first permanent houses were Dutch in shape, suchas may be seen in Holland to-day. In the large towns in New Netherlandthe houses were certainly very pretty, as all visitors stated who wroteaccounts at that day. Madam Knights visited New York in 1704, and wroteof the houses, --I will give her own words, in her own spelling andgrammar, which were not very good, though she was the teacher ofBenjamin Franklin, and the friend of Cotton Mather:--

 "The Buildings are Brick Generaly very stately and high: the Bricks in some of the houses are of divers Coullers, and laid in Checkers, being glazed, look very agreable. The inside of the houses is neat to admiration, the wooden work; for only the walls are plaster'd; and the Sumers and Gist are planed and kept very white scour'd as so is all the partitions if made of Bords. "

The "sumers and gist" were the heavy timbers of the frame, thesummer-pieces and joists. The summer-piece was the large middle beam inthe middle from end to end of the ceiling; the joists were cross-beams. These were not covered with plaster as nowadays, but showed in everyceiling; and in old houses are sometimes set so curiously and fitted soingeniously, that they are always an entertaining study. Anothertraveller says that New York houses had patterns of colored brick set inthe front, and also bore the date of building. The Governor's house atAlbany had two black brick-hearts. Dutch houses were set close to thesidewalk with the gable-end to the street; and had the roof notched likesteps, --corbel-roof was the name; and these ends were often of brick, while the rest of the walls were of wood. The roofs were high inproportion to the side walls, and hence steep; they were surmountedusually in Holland fashion with weather-vanes in the shape of horses, lions, geese, sloops, or fish; a rooster was a favorite Dutchweather-vane. There were metal gutters sticking out from every roofalmost to the middle of the street; this was most annoying to passers-byin rainy weather, who were deluged with water from the roofs. The cellarwindows had small loop-holes with shutters. The windows were alwayssmall; some had only sliding shutters, others had but two panes orquarels of glass, as they were called, which were only six or eightinches square. The front doors were cut across horizontally in themiddle into two parts, and in early days were hung on leather hingesinstead of iron. 

In the upper half of the door were two round bull's-eyes of heavygreenish glass, which let faint rays of light enter the hall. The dooropened with a latch, and often had also a knocker. Every house had aporch or "stoep" flanked with benches, which were constantly occupied inthe summer time; and every evening, in city and village alike, anincessant visiting was kept up from stoop to stoop. The Dutch farmhouseswere a single straight story, with two more stories in the high, in-curving roof. They had doors and stoops like the town houses, and allthe windows had heavy board shutters. The cellar and the garret were themost useful rooms in the house; they were store-rooms for all kinds ofsubstantial food. In the cellar were great bins of apples, potatoes, turnips, beets, and parsnips. There were hogsheads of corned beef, barrels of salt pork, tubs of hams being salted in brine, tonnekens ofsalt shad and mackerel, firkins of butter, kegs of pigs' feet, tubs ofsouse, kilderkins of lard. On a long swing-shelf were tumblers of spicedfruits, and "rolliches, " head-cheese, and strings of sausages--all Dutchdelicacies. 

In strong racks were barrels of cider and vinegar, and often of beer. Many contained barrels of rum and a pipe of Madeira. What a storehouseof plenty and thrift! What an emblem of Dutch character! In the atticby the chimney was the smoke-house, filled with hams, bacon, smokedbeef, and sausages. 

In Virginia and Maryland, where people did not gather into towns, butbuilt their houses farther apart, there were at first few sawmills, andthe houses were universally built of undressed logs. Nails were costly, as were all articles manufactured of iron, hence many houses were builtwithout iron; wooden pins and pegs were driven in holes cut to receivethem; hinges were of leather; the shingles on the roof were sometimespinned, or were held in place by "weight-timbers. " The doors had latcheswith strings hanging outside; by pulling in the string within-doors thehouse was securely locked. This form of latch was used in all thecolonies. When persons were leaving houses, they sometimes set them onfire in order to gather up the nails from the ashes. To prevent thisdestruction of buildings, the government of Virginia gave to eachplanter who was leaving his house as many nails as the house wasestimated to have in its frame, provided the owner would not burn thehouse down. 

Some years later, when boards could be readily obtained, the favoritedwelling-place in the South was a framed building with a great stone orlog-and-clay chimney at either end. The house was usually set on sillsresting on the ground. The partitions were sometimes covered with athick layer of mud which dried into a sort of plaster and waswhitewashed. The roofs were covered with cypress shingles. 

Hammond wrote of these houses in 1656, in his _Leah and Rachel_, "Pleasant in their building, and contrived delightfull; the rooms large, daubed and whitelimed, glazed and flowered; and if not glazed windows, shutters made pretty and convenient. "

When prosperity and wealth came through the speedily profitable crops oftobacco, the houses improved. The home-lot or yard of the Southernplanters showed a pleasant group of buildings, which would seem the mostcheerful home of the colonies, only that all dearly earned homes arecheerful to their owners. There was not only the spacious mansion housefor the planter with its pleasant porch, but separate buildings in whichwere a kitchen, cabins for the negro servants and the overseer, astable, barn, coach-house, hen-house, smoke-house, dove-cote, andmilk-room. In many yards a tall pole with a toy house at top waserected; in this bird-house bee-martins built their nests, and bybravely disconcerting the attacks of hawks and crows, and noisilynotifying the family and servants of the approach of the enemy, thusserved as a guardian for the domestic poultry, whose home stood closeunder this protection. There was seldom an ice-house. The only means forthe preservation of meats in hot weather was by water constantly pouringinto and through a box house erected over the spring that flowed nearthe house. Sometimes a brew-house was also found in the yard, for makinghome-brewed beer, and a tool-house for storing tools and farmimplements. Some farms had a cider-mill, but this was not in the houseyard. Often there was a spinning-house where servants could spin flaxand wool. This usually had one room containing a hand-loom on whichcoarse bagging could be woven, and homespun for the use of the negroes. A very beautiful example of a splendid and comfortable Southern mansionsuch as was built by wealthy planters in the middle of the eighteenthcentury has been preserved for us at Mount Vernon, the home of GeorgeWashington. 

Mount Vernon was not so fine nor so costly a house as many others builtearlier in the century, such as Lower Brandon--two centuries and a halfold--and Upper Brandon, the homes of the Harrisons; Westover, the homeof the Byrds; Shirley, built in 1650, the home of the Carters; SabinHall, another Carter home, is still standing on the Rappahannock withits various and many quarters and outbuildings, and is a splendidexample of colonial architecture. 

As the traveller came north from Virginia through Pennsylvania, "theJerseys, " and Delaware, the negro cabins and detached kitchendisappeared, and many of the houses were of stone and mortar. A clayoven stood by each house. In the cities stone and brick were much used, and by 1700 nearly all Philadelphia houses had balconies running theentire length of the second story. The stoop before the door wasuniversal. 

For half a century nearly all New England houses were cottages. Many hadthatched roofs. Seaside towns set aside for public use certain reedylots between salt-marsh and low-water mark, where thatch could be freelycut. The catted chimneys were of logs plastered with clay, or platted, that is, made of reeds and mortar; and as wood and hay were stacked inthe streets, all the early towns suffered much from fires, and soon lawswere passed forbidding the building of these unsafe chimneys; as brickwas imported and made, and stone was quarried, there was certainly noneed to use such danger-filled materials. Fire-wardens were appointedwho peered around in all the kitchens, hunting for what they called foulchimney hearts, and they ordered flag-roofs and wooden chimneys to beremoved, and replaced with stone or brick ones. In Boston everyhousekeeper had to own a fire-ladder; and ladders and buckets were keptin the church. Salem kept its "fire-buckets and hook'd poles" in thetown-house. Soon in all towns each family owned fire-buckets made ofheavy leather and marked with the owner's name or initials. The entiretown constituted the fire company, and the method of using thefire-buckets was this. As soon as an alarm of fire was given by shoutsor bell-ringing, every one ran at once towards the scene of the fire. All who owned buckets carried them, and if any person was delayed evenfor a few minutes, he flung his fire-buckets from the window into thestreet, where some one in the running crowd seized them and carried themon. On reaching the fire, a double line called lanes of persons was madefrom the fire to the river or pond, or a well. A very goodrepresentation of these lanes is given in this fireman's certificate ofthe year 1800. 

The buckets, filled with water, were passed from hand to hand, up oneline of persons to the fire, while the empty ones went down the otherline. Boys were stationed on the _dry lane_. Thus a constant supply ofwater was carried to the fire. If any person attempted to pass throughthe line, or hinder the work, he promptly got a bucketful or two ofwater poured over him. When the fire was over, the fire-warden tookcharge of the buckets; some hours later the owners appeared, each pickedout his own buckets from the pile, carried them home, and hung them upby the front door, ready to be seized again for use at the next alarm offire. 

Many of these old fire-buckets are still preserved, and deservedly arecherished heirlooms, for they represent the dignity and importance duea house-holding ancestor. They were a valued possession at the time oftheir use, and a costly one, being, made of the best leather. They wereoften painted not only with the name of the owner, but with familymottoes, crests, or appropriate inscriptions, sometimes in Latin. Theleather hand-buckets of the Donnison family of Boston are here shown;those of the Quincy family bear the legend _Impavadi Flammarium_; thoseof the Oliver family, _Friend and Public_. In these fire-buckets wereoften kept, tightly rolled, strong canvas bags, in which valuablescould be thrust and carried from the burning building. 

The first fire-engine made in this country was for the town of Boston, and was made about 1650 by Joseph Jencks, the famous old iron-worker inLynn. It was doubtless very simple in shape, as were its successorsuntil well into this century. The first fire-engine used in Brooklyn, New York, is here shown. It was made in 1785 by Jacob Boome. Relays ofmen at both handles worked the clumsy pump. The water supply for thisengine was still only through the lanes of fire-buckets, except in rarecases. 

By the year 1670 wooden chimneys and log houses of the Plymouth and Baycolonies were replaced by more sightly houses of two stories, which werefrequently built with the second story jutting out a foot or two overthe first, and sometimes with the attic story still further extendingover the second story. A few of these are still standing: TheWhite-Ellery House, at Gloucester, Massachusetts, in 1707, is hereshown. This "overhang" is popularly supposed to have been built for thepurpose of affording a convenient shooting-place from which to repel theIndians. This is, however, an historic fable. The overhanging secondstory was a common form of building in England in the time of QueenElizabeth, and the Massachusetts and Rhode Island settlers simply andnaturally copied their old homes. 

The roofs of many of these new houses were steep, and were shingled withhand-riven shingles. The walls between the rooms were of clay mixed withchopped straw. Sometimes the walls were whitened with a wash made ofpowdered clam-shells. The ground floors were occasionally of earth, butpuncheon floors were common in the better houses. The well-smoothedtimbers were sanded in careful designs with cleanly beach sand. 

By 1676 the Royal Commissioners wrote of Boston that the streets werecrooked, and the houses usually wooden, with a few of brick and stone. It is a favorite tradition of brick houses in all the colonies that thebrick for them was brought from England. As excellent brick was madehere, I cannot believe all these tales that are told. Occasionally ahouse, such as the splendid Warner Mansion, still standing inPortsmouth, New Hampshire, is proved to be of imported brick by thebills which are still existing for the purchase and transportation ofthe brick. A later form of many houses was two stories or two storiesand a half in front, with a peaked roof that sloped down nearly to theground in the back over an ell covering the kitchen, added in the shapeknown as a lean-to, or, as it was called by country folk, the linter. This sloping roof gave the one element of unconscious picturesquenesswhich redeemed the prosaic ugliness of these bare-walled houses. Manylean-to houses are still standing in New England. The Boardman HillHouse, built at North Saugus, Massachusetts, two centuries and a halfago, and the two houses of lean-to form, the birthplaces of PresidentJohn Adams and of President John Quincy Adams, are typical examples. 

The next roof-form, built from early colonial days, and popular acentury ago, was what was known as the gambrel roof. This resembled, ontwo sides, the mansard roof of France in the seventeenth century, butwas also gabled at two ends. The gambrel roof had a certain grace ofoutline, especially when joined with lean-tos and other additions. Thehouse partly built in 1636 in Dedham, Massachusetts, by my far-awaygrandfather, and known as the Fairbanks House, is the oldestgambrel-roofed house now standing. It is still occupied by one of hisdescendants in the eighth generation. The rear view of it, here given, shows the picturesqueness of roof outlines and the quaintness whichcomes simply from variety. The front of the main building, with itseight windows, all of different sizes and set at different heights, shows equal diversity. Within, the boards in the wall-panelling varyfrom two to twenty-five inches in width. 

The windows of the first houses had oiled paper to admit light. Acolonist wrote back to England to a friend who was soon to follow, "Bring oiled paper for your windows. " The minister, Higginson, sentpromptly in 1629 for glass for windows. This glass was set in thewindows with nails; the sashes were often narrow and oblong, ofdiamond-shaped panes set in lead, and opening up and down the middle onhinges. Long after the large towns and cities had glass windows, frontier settlements still had heavy wooden shutters. They were a saferprotection against Indian assault, as well as cheaper. It is assertedthat in the province of Kennebec, which is now the state of Maine, therewas not, even as late as 1745, a house that had a square of glass in it. Oiled paper was used until this century in pioneer houses for windowswherever it was difficult to transport glass. 

Few of the early houses in New England were painted, or colored, as itwas called, either without or within. Painters do not appear in any ofthe early lists of workmen. A Salem citizen, just previous to theRevolution, had the woodwork of one of the rooms of his house painted. One of a group of friends, discussing this extravagance a few dayslater, said: "Well! Archer has set us a fine example of expense, --he haslaid one of his rooms in oil. " This sentence shows both the wording andideas of the times. 

There was one external and suggestive adjunct of the earliest pioneer'shome which was found in nearly all the settlements which were built inthe midst of threatening Indians. Some strong houses were alwayssurrounded by a stockade, or "palisado, " of heavy, well-fitted logs, which thus formed a garrison, or neighborhood resort, in time of danger. In the valley of Virginia each settlement was formed of houses set in asquare, connected from end to end of the outside walls by stockadeswith gates; thus forming a close front. On the James River, on ManhattanIsland, were stockades. The whole town plot of Milford, Connecticut, wasenclosed in 1645, and the Indians taunted the settlers by shouting out, "White men all same like pigs. " At one time in Massachusetts, twentytowns proposed an all-surrounding palisade. The progress and conditionof our settlements can be traced in our fences. As Indians disappearedor succumbed, the solid row of pales gave place to a log-fence, whichserved well to keep out depredatory animals. When dangers from Indiansor wild animals entirely disappeared, boards were still not over-plenty, and the strength of the owner could not be over-spent on unnecessaryfencing. Then came the double-rail fence; two rails, held in place oneabove the other, at each joining, by four crossed sticks. It was aboundary, and would keep in cattle. It was said that every fence shouldbe horse-high, bull-proof, and pig-tight. Then came stone walls, showinga thorough clearing and taming of the land. The succeeding "half-high"stone wall--a foot or two high, with a single rail on top--showed thatstones were not as plentiful in the fields as in early days. The"snake-fence, " or "Virginia fence, " so common in the Southern states, utilized the second growth of forest trees. The split-rail fence, fouror five rails in height, was set at intervals with posts, pierced withholes to hold the ends of the rails. These were used to some extent inthe East; but our Western states were fenced throughout with rails splitby sturdy pioneer rail-splitters, among them young Abraham Lincoln. Board fences showed the day of the sawmill and its plentiful supply; thewire fences of to-day equally prove the decrease of our forests and ourwood, and the growth of our mineral supplies and manufactures ofmetals. Thus even our fences might be called historical monuments. 

A few of the old block-houses, or garrison houses, the "defensiblehouses, " which were surrounded by these stockades, are still standing. The most interesting are the old Garrison at East Haverhill, Massachusetts, built in 1670; it has walls of solid oak, and brick afoot and a half thick; the Saltonstall House at Ipswich, built in 1633;Cradock Old Fort in Medford, Massachusetts, built in 1634 of brick madeon the spot; an old fort at York, Maine; and the Whitefield GarrisonHouse, built in 1639 at Guilford, Connecticut. The one at Newburyport isthe most picturesque and beautiful of them all. 

As social life in Boston took on a little aspect of court life in thecircle gathered around the royal governors, the pride of the wealthyfound expression in handsome and stately houses. These were copied andadded to by men of wealth and social standing in other towns. TheProvince House, built in 1679, the Frankland House in 1735, and theHancock House, all in Boston; the Shirley House in Roxbury, theWentworth Mansion in New Hampshire, are good examples. They weredignified and simple in form, and have borne the test ofcenturies, --they wear well. They never erred in over-ornamentation, being scant of interior decoration, save in two or three principal roomsand the hall and staircase. The panelled step ends and soffits, thegraceful newels and balusters, of those old staircases hold sway asmodels to this day. 

The same taste which made the staircase the centre of decoration within, made the front door the sole point of ornamentation without; and equalbeauty is there focused. Worthy of study and reproduction, many of theold-time front doors are with their fine panels, graceful, leaded sidewindows, elaborate and pretty fan-lights, and slight but appropriatecarving. The prettiest leaded windows I ever saw in an American homewere in a thereby glorified hen-house. They had been taken from thediscarded front door of a remodelled old Falmouth house. The hens andtheir owner were not of antiquarian tastes, and relinquished the windowsfor a machine-made sash more suited to their plebeian tastes andoccupations. Many colonial doors had door-latches or knobs of heavybrass; nearly all had a knocker of wrought iron or polished brass, acheerful ornament that ever seems to resound a welcome to the visitor aswell as a notification to the visited. 

The knocker from the John Hancock House in Boston and that from theWinslow House in Marshfield are here shown; both are now in the custodyof the Bostonian Society, and may be seen at the Old State House inBoston. The latter was given to the society by Dr. Oliver WendellHolmes. 

The "King-Hooper" House, still standing in Danvers, Massachusetts, closely resembled the Hancock House. This house, built by Robert Hooperin 1754, was for a time the refuge of the royal governor ofMassachusetts--Governor Gage; and hence is sometimes called GeneralGage's Headquarters. When the minute-men marched past the house toLexington on April 18, 1775, they stripped the lead from the gate-posts. "King Hooper" angrily denounced them, and a minute-man fired at him ashe entered the house. The bullet passed through the panel of the door, and the rent may still be seen. Hence the house has been often calledThe House of the Front Door with the Bullet-Hole. The present owner andoccupier of the house, Francis Peabody, Esq. , has appropriately named itThe Lindens, from the stately linden trees that grace its gardens andlawns. 

In riding through those portions of our states that were the earlysettled colonies, it is pleasant to note where any old houses are stillstanding, or where the sites of early colonial houses are known, thegood taste usually shown by the colonists in the places chosen to buildtheir houses. They dearly loved a "sightly location. " An old writersaid: "My consayte is such; I had rather not to builde a mansyon or ahouse than to builde one without a good prospect in it, to it, and fromit. " In Virginia the houses were set on the river slope, where everypassing boat might see them. The New England colonists painfully climbedlong, tedious hills, that they might have homes from whence could be hada beautiful view, and this was for the double reason, as the old writersaid, that in their new homes they might both see and be seen. 

CHAPTER II

THE LIGHT OF OTHER DAYS

The first and most natural way of lighting the houses of the Americancolonists, both in the North and South, was by the pine-knots of the fatpitch-pine, which, of course, were found everywhere in the greatestplenty in the forests. Governor John Winthrop the younger, in hiscommunication to the English Royal Society in 1662, said thiscandle-wood was much used for domestic illumination in Virginia, NewYork, and New England. It was doubtless gathered everywhere in newsettlements, as it has been in pioneer homes till our own day. In Maine, New Hampshire, and Vermont it was used till this century. In theSouthern states the pine-knots are still burned in humble households forlighting purposes, and a very good light they furnish. 

The historian Wood wrote in 1642, in his _New England's Prospect_:--

 "Out of these Pines is gotten the Candlewood that is much spoke of, which may serve as a shift among poore folks, but I cannot commend it for singular good, because it droppeth a pitchy kind of substance where it stands. "

That pitchy kind of substance was tar, which was one of the mostvaluable trade products of the colonists. So much tar was made byburning the pines on the banks of the Connecticut, that as early as 1650the towns had to prohibit the using of candle-wood for tar-making ifgathered within six miles of the Connecticut River, though it could begathered by families for illumination and fuel. 

Rev. Mr. Higginson, writing in 1633, said of these pine-knots:--

 "They are such candles as the Indians commonly use, having no other, and they are nothing else but the wood of the pine tree, cloven in two little slices, something thin, which are so full of the moysture of turpentine and pitch that they burne as cleere as a torch. "

To avoid having smoke in the room, and on account of the pitchydroppings, the candle-wood was usually burned in a corner of thefireplace, on a flat stone. The knots were sometimes calledpine-torches. One old Massachusetts minister boasted at the end of hislife that every sermon of the hundreds he had written, had been copiedby the light of these torches. Rev. Mr. Newman, of Rehoboth, is said tohave compiled his vast concordance of the Bible wholly by the dancinglight of this candle-wood. Lighting was an important item of expense inany household of so small an income as that of a Puritan minister; andthe single candle was often frugally extinguished during the long familyprayers each evening. Every family laid in a good supply of this lightwood for winter use, and it was said that a prudent New England farmerwould as soon start the winter without hay in his barn as withoutcandle-wood in his woodshed. 

Mr. Higginson wrote in 1630: "Though New England has no tallow to makecandles of, yet by abundance of fish thereof it can afford oil forlamps. " This oil was apparently wholly neglected, though there were few, or no domestic animals to furnish tallow; but when cattle increased, every ounce of tallow was saved as a precious and useful treasure; andas they became plentiful it was one of the household riches of NewEngland, which was of value to our own day. When Governor Winthroparrived in Massachusetts, he promptly wrote over to his wife to bringcandles with her from England when she came. And in 1634 he sent overfor a large quantity of wicks and tallow. Candles cost fourpence apiece, which made them costly luxuries for the thrifty colonists. 

Wicks were made of loosely spun hemp or tow, or of cotton; from themilkweed which grows so plentifully in our fields and roads to-day thechildren gathered in late summer the silver "silk-down" which was "spungrossly into candle wicke. " Sometimes the wicks were dipped intosaltpetre. 

Thomas Tusser wrote in England in the sixteenth century in his_Directions to Housewifes_:--

 "Wife, make thine own candle, Spare penny to handle. Provide for thy tallow ere frost cometh in, And make thine own candle ere winter begin. "

Every thrifty housewife in America saved her penny as in England. Themaking of the winter's stock of candles was the special autumnalhousehold duty, and a hard one too, for the great kettles were tiresomeand heavy to handle. An early hour found the work well under way. A goodfire was started in the kitchen fireplace under two vast kettles, eachtwo feet, perhaps, in diameter, which were hung on trammels from thelug-pole or crane, and half filled with boiling water and melted tallow, which had had two scaldings and skimmings. At the end of the kitchen orin an adjoining and cooler room, sometimes in the lean-to, two longpoles were laid from chair to chair or stool to stool. Across thesepoles were placed at regular intervals, like the rounds of a ladder, smaller sticks about fifteen or eighteen inches long, calledcandle-rods. These poles and rods were kept from year to year, either inthe garret or up on the kitchen beams. 

To each candle-rod was attached about six or eight carefullystraightened candle-wicks. The wicking was twisted strongly one way;then doubled; then the loop was slipped over the candle-rod, when thetwo ends, of course, twisted the other way around each other, making afirm wick. A rod, with its row of wicks, was dipped in the melted tallowin the pot, and returned to its place across the poles. Each row wasthus dipped in regular turn; each had time to cool and harden betweenthe dips, and thus grew steadily in size. If allowed to cool fast, theyof course grew quickly, but were brittle, and often cracked. Hence agood worker dipped slowly, but if the room was fairly cool, could maketwo hundred candles for a day's work. Some could dip two rods at a time. The tallow was constantly replenished, as the heavy kettles were usedalternately to keep the tallow constantly melted, and were swung off andon the fire. Boards or sheets of paper were placed under the rods toprotect the snowy, scoured floors. 

Candles were also run in moulds which were groups of metal cylinders, usually made of tin or pewter. Itinerant candle-makers went from houseto house, taking charge of candle-making in the household, and carryinglarge candle-moulds with them. One of the larger size, making two dozencandles, is here shown; but its companion, the smaller mould, making sixcandles, is such as were more commonly seen. Each wick was attached to awire or a nail placed across the open top of the cylinder, and hung downin the centre of each individual mould. The melted tallow was poured incarefully around the wicks. 

Wax candles also were made. They were often shaped by hand, by pressingbits of heated wax around a wick. Farmers kept hives of bees as much forthe wax as for the honey, which was of much demand for sweetening, when"loaves" of sugar were so high-priced. Deer suet, moose fat, bear'sgrease, all were saved in frontier settlements, and carefully tried intotallow for candles. Every particle of grease rescued from pot liquor, orfat from meat, was utilized for candle-making. Rushlights were made bystripping part of the outer bark from common rushes, thus leaving thepith bare, then dipping them in tallow or grease, and letting themharden. 

The precious candles thus tediously made were taken good care of. Theywere carefully packed in candle-boxes with compartments; were coveredover, and set in a dark closet, where they would not discolor and turnyellow. A metal candle-box, hung on the edge of the kitchenmantel-shelf, always held two or three candles to replenish those whichburnt out in the candlesticks. 

A natural, and apparently inexhaustible, material for candles was foundin all the colonies in the waxy berries of the bayberry bush, whichstill grows in large quantities on our coasts. In the year 1748 aSwedish naturalist, Professor Kalm, came to America, and he wrote anaccount of the bayberry wax which I will quote in full:--

 "There is a plant here from the berries of which they make a kind of wax or tallow, and for that reason the Swedes call it the tallow-shrub. The English call the same tree the candle-berry tree or bayberry bush; it grows abundantly in a wet soil, and seems to thrive particularly well in the neighborhood of the sea. The berries look as if flour had been strewed on them. They are gathered late in Autumn, being ripe about that time, and are thrown into a kettle or pot full of boiling water; by this means their fat melts out, floats at the top of the water, and may be skimmed off into a vessel; with the skimming they go on till there is no tallow left. The tallow, as soon as it is congealed, looks like common tallow or wax, but has a dirty green color. By being melted over and refined it acquires a fine and transparent green color. This tallow is dearer than common tallow, but cheaper than wax. Candles of this do not easily bend, nor melt in summer as common candles do; they burn better and slower, nor do they cause any smoke, but yield rather an agreeable smell when they are extinguished. In Carolina they not only make candles out of the wax of the berries, but likewise sealing-wax. "

Beverley, the historian of Virginia, wrote of the smell of burningbayberry tallow:--

 "If an accident puts a candle out, it yields a pleasant fragrancy to all that are in the room; insomuch that nice people often put them out on purpose to have the incense of the expiring snuff. "

Bayberry wax was not only a useful home-product, but an article oftraffic till this century, and was constantly advertised in thenewspapers. In 1712, in a letter written to John Winthrop, F. R. S. , Ifind:--

 "I am now to beg one favour of you, --that you secure for me all the bayberry wax you can possibly put your hands on. You must take a care they do not put too much tallow among it, being a custom and cheat they have got. "

Bayberries were of enough importance to have some laws made about them. Everywhere on Long Island grew the stunted bushes, and everywhere theywere valued. The town of Brookhaven, in 1687, forbade the gathering ofthe berries before September 15, under penalty of fifteen shillings'fine. 

The pungent and unique scent of the bayberry, equally strong in leafand berry, is to me one of the elements of the purity and sweetness ofthe air of our New England coast fields in autumn. It grows everywhere, green and cheerful, in sun-withered shore pastures, in poor bits ofearth on our rocky coast, where it has few fellow field-tenants to crowdthe ground. It is said that the highest efforts of memory are stimulatedthrough our sense of smell, by the association of ideas with scents. That of bayberry, whenever I pass it, seems to awaken in me anhereditary memory, to recall a life of two centuries ago. I recall theautumns of trial and of promise in our early history, and the bayberryfields are peopled with children in Puritan garb, industriouslygathering the tiny waxen fruit. Equally full of sentiment is the scentof my burning bayberry candles, which were made last autumn in an oldcolony town. 

The history of whale-fishing in New England is the history of one of themost fascinating commercial industries the world has ever known. It is astory with every element of intense interest, showing infinite romance, adventure, skill, courage, and fortitude. It brought vast wealth to thecommunities that carried on the fishing, and great independence andcomfort to the families of the whalers. To the whalemen themselves itbrought incredible hardships and dangers, yet they loved the life witha love which is strange to view and hard to understand. In the oil madefrom these "royal fish" the colonists found a vast and cheap supply fortheir metal and glass lamps; while the toothed whales had stored intheir blunt heads a valuable material which was at once used for makingcandles; it is termed, in the most ancient reference I have found to itin New England records, Sperma-Coeti. 

It was asserted that one of these spermaceti candles gave out more lightthan three tallow candles, and had four times as big a flame. Soon theirmanufacture and sale amounted to large numbers, and materially improveddomestic illumination. 

All candles, whatever their material, were carefully used by theeconomical colonists to the last bit by a little wire frame of pins andrings called a save-all. Candle-sticks of various metals and shapes werefound in every house; and often sconces, which were also calledcandle-arms, or prongs. Candle-beams were rude chandeliers, a metal orwooden hoop with candle-holders. Snuffers were always seen, with whichto trim the candles, and snuffers trays. These were sometimesexceedingly richly ornamented, and were often of silver: extinguishersoften accompanied the snuffers. 

Though lamps occasionally appear on early inventories and lists ofsales, and though there was plenty of whale and fish oil to burn, lampswere not extensively used in America for many years. "Betty-lamps, "shaped much like antique Roman lamps, were the earliest form. They weresmall, shallow receptacles, two or three inches in diameter and about aninch in depth; either rectangular, oval, round, or triangular in shape, with a projecting nose or spout an inch or two long. They usually had ahook and chain by which they could be hung on a nail in the wall, or onthe round in the back of a chair; sometimes there was also a smallerhook for cleaning out the nose of the lamp. They were filled withtallow, grease, or oil, while a piece of cotton rag or coarse wick wasso placed that, when lighted, the end hung out on the nose. From thiswick, dripping dirty grease, rose a dull, smoky, ill-smelling flame. 

Phoebe-lamps were similar in shape; though some had double wicks, thatis, a nose at either side. Three betty-lamps are shown in theillustration: all came from old colonial houses. The iron lamp, solidwith the accumulated grease of centuries, was found in a Virginia cabin;the rectangular brass lamp came from a Dutch farmhouse; and the gracefuloval brass lamp from a New England homestead. 

Pewter was a favorite material for lamps, as it was for all otherdomestic utensils. It was specially in favor for the lamps for whaleoil and the "Porter's fluid, " that preceded our present illuminatingmedium, petroleum. A rare form is the pewter lamp here shown. It is inthe collection of ancient lamps, lanterns, candlesticks, etc. , owned byMrs. Samuel Bowne Duryea, of Brooklyn. It came from a Salem home, whereit was used as a house-lantern. With its clear bull's-eyes of unusuallypure glass, it gave what was truly a brilliant light for the century ofits use. A group of old pewter lamps, of the shapes commonly used in thehomes of our ancestors a century or so ago, is also given; chosen, notbecause they were unusual or beautiful, but because they were universalin their use. 

The lamps of Count Rumford's invention were doubtless a great luxury, with their clear steady light; but they were too costly to be commonlyseen in our grandfathers' homes. Nor were Argand burners ever universal. Glass lamps of many simple shapes shared popularity for a long time withthe pewter lamps; and as pewter gradually disappeared from householduse, these glass lamps monopolized the field. They were rarely of cut orcolored glass, but were pressed glass of commonplace form and quality. Agroup of them is here given which were all used in old New Englandhouses in the early part of this century. 

For many years the methods of striking a light were very primitive, justas they were in Europe; many families possessed no adequate means, orvery imperfect ones. If by ill fortune the fire in the fireplace becamewholly extinguished through carelessness at night, some one, usually asmall boy, was sent to the house of the nearest neighbor, bearing ashovel or covered pan, or perhaps a broad strip of green bark, on whichto bring back coals for relighting the fire. Nearly all families hadsome form of a flint and steel, --a method of obtaining fire which hasbeen used from time immemorial by both civilized and uncivilizednations. This always required a flint, a steel, and a tinder of somevegetable matter to catch the spark struck by the concussion of flintand steel. This spark was then blown into a flame. Among the colonistsscorched linen was a favorite tinder to catch the spark of fire; andtill this century all the old cambric handkerchiefs, linen underwear, and worn sheets of a household were carefully saved for this purpose. The flint, steel, and tinder were usually kept together in a circulartinder-box, such as is shown in the accompanying illustration; it was ashape universal in England and America. This had an inner flat coverwith a ring, a flint, a horseshoe-shaped steel, and an upper lid with aplace to set a candle-end in, to carry the newly acquired light. ThoughI have tried hundreds of times with this tinder-box, I have never yetsucceeded in striking a light. The sparks fly, but then the operationceases in modern hands. Charles Dickens said if you had good luck, youcould get a light in half an hour. Soon there was an improvement on thistinder-box, by which sparks were obtained by spinning a steel wheel witha piece of cord, somewhat like spinning a humming top, and making thewheel strike a flint fixed in the side of a little trough full oftinder. This was an infinite advance in convenience on tinder-box No. 1. This box was called in the South a mill; one is here shown. Then someperson invented strips of wood dipped in sulphur and called "spunks. "These readily caught fire, and retained it, and were handy to carrylight to a candle or pile of chips. 

Another way of starting a fire was by flashing a little powder in thepan of an old-fashioned gun; sometimes this fired a twist of tow, whichin turn started a heap of shavings. 

Down to the time of our grandfathers, and in some country homes of ourfathers, lights were started with these crude elements, --flint, steel, tinder, --and transferred by the sulphur splint; for fifty years agomatches were neither cheap nor common. 

Though various processes for lighting in which sulphur was used in amatch shape, were brought before the public at the beginning of thiscentury, they were complicated, expensive, and rarely seen. The firstpractical friction matches were "Congreves, " made in England in 1827. They were thin strips of wood or cardboard coated with sulphur andtipped with a mixture of mucilage, chlorate of potash, and sulphide ofantimony. Eighty-four of them were sold in a box for twenty-five cents, with a piece of "glass-paper" through which the match could be drawn. There has been a long step this last fifty years between the tinder-boxused so patiently for two centuries, and the John Jex Long match-makingmachine of our times, which turns out seventeen million matches a day. 

CHAPTER III

THE KITCHEN FIRESIDE

The kitchen in all the farmhouses of all the colonies was the mostcheerful, homelike, and picturesque room in the house; indeed, it was intown houses as well. The walls were often bare, the rafters dingy; thewindows were small, the furniture meagre; but the kitchen had a warm, glowing heart that spread light and welcome, and made the poor room ahome. In the houses of the first settlers the chimneys and fireplaceswere vast in size, sometimes so big that the fore-logs and back-logs forthe fire had to be dragged in by a horse and a long chain; or ahand-sled was kept for the purpose. Often there were seats within thechimney on either side. At night children could sit on these seats andthere watch the sparks fly upward and join the stars which could plainlybe seen up the great chimney-throat. 

But as the forests disappeared under the waste of burning for tar, forpotash, and through wanton clearing, the fireplaces shrank in size; andBenjamin Franklin, even in his day, could write of "the fireplaces ofour fathers. "

The inflammable catted chimney of logs and clay, hurriedly and readilybuilt by the first settlers, soon gave place in all houses to vastchimneys of stone, built with projecting inner ledges, on which rested abar about six or seven or even eight feet from the floor, called alug-pole (lug meaning to carry) or a back-bar; this was made of greenwood, and thus charred slowly--but it charred surely in the generousflames of the great chimney heart. Many annoying, and some fatalaccidents came from the collapsing of these wooden back-bars. Thedestruction of a dinner sometimes was attended with the loss of a life. Later the back-bars were made of iron. On them were hung iron hooks orchains with hooks of various lengths called pothooks, trammels, hakes, pot-hangers, pot-claws, pot-clips, pot-brakes, pot-crooks. Mr. ArnoldTalbot, of Providence, Rhode Island, has folding trammels, nine feetlong, which were found in an old Narragansett chimney heart. Gibcrokesand recons were local and less frequent names, and the folks who intheir dialect called the lug-pole a gallows-balke called the pothooksgallows-crooks. On these hooks pots and kettles could be hung at varyingheights over the fire. The iron swinging-crane was a Yankee invention ofa century after the first settlement, and it proved a convenient andgraceful substitute for the back-bar. 

Some Dutch houses had an adaptation of a Southern method of housekeepingin the use of a detached house called a slave-kitchen, where the mealsof the negro house and farm servants were cooked and served. Theslave-kitchen of the old Bergen homestead stood unaltered till within afew years on Third Avenue in Brooklyn. It still exists in a dismantledcondition. Its picture plainly shows the stone ledges within thefireplace, the curved iron lug-pole, and hanging pothooks and trammels. With ample fire of hickory logs burning on the hearthstone, and thevaried array of primitive cooking-vessels steaming with savory fare, acircle of laughing, black faces shining with the glowing firelight andhungry anticipation, would make a "Dutch interior" of American form andshaping as picturesque and artistic as any of Holland. The fireplaceitself sometimes went by the old English name, clavell-piece, as shownby the letters of John Wynter, written from Maine in 1634 to his Englishhome. "The Chimney is large, with an oven at each end of him: he is solarge that wee can place our Cyttle within the Clavell-piece. Wee canbrew and bake and boyl our Cyttle all at once in him. " Often a largeplate of iron, called the fire-back or fire-plate, was set at the backof the chimney, where the constant and fierce fire crumbled brick andsplit stone. These iron backs were often cast in a handsome design. 

In New York the chimneys and fireplaces were Dutch in shape; thedescription given by a woman traveller at the end of the seventeenthcentury ran thus:--

 "The chimney-places are very droll-like: they have no jambs nor lintell as we have, but a flat grate, and there projects over it a lum in the form of the cat-and-clay lum, and commonly a muslin or ruffled pawn around it. "

The "ruffled pawn" was a calico or linen valance which was hung on theedge of the mantel-shelf, a pretty and cheerful fashion seen in someEnglish as well as Dutch homes. 

Another Dutch furnishing, the alcove bedstead, much like a closet, seenin many New York kitchens, was replaced in New England farm-kitchens bythe "turn-up" bedstead. This was a strong frame filled with a network ofrope which was fastened at the bed-head by hinges to the wall. By nightthe foot of the bed rested on two heavy legs; by day the frame with itsbed furnishings was hooked up to the wall, and covered with homespuncurtains or doors. This was the sleeping-place of the master andmistress of the house, chosen because the kitchen was the warmest roomin the house. One of these "turn-up" bedsteads which was used in theSheldon homestead until this century may be seen in Deerfield MemorialHall. 

Over the fireplace and across the top of the room were long poles onwhich hung strings of peppers, dried apples, and rings of dried pumpkin. And the favorite resting-place for the old queen's-arm or fowling-piecewas on hooks over the kitchen fireplace. 

On the pothooks and trammels hung what formed in some households thecostliest house-furnishing, --the pots and kettles. The Indians wishedtheir brass kettles buried with them as a precious possession, and thesettlers equally valued them; often these kettles were worth threepounds apiece. In many inventories of the estates of the settlers thebrass-ware formed an important item. Rev. Thomas Hooker of Hartford hadbrass-ware which, in the equalizing of values to-day, would be worththree or four hundred dollars. The great brass and copper kettles oftenheld fifteen gallons. The vast iron pot--desired and beloved of everycolonist--sometimes weighed forty pounds, and lasted in daily use formany years. All the vegetables were boiled together in these great pots, unless some very particular housewife had a wrought-iron potato-boilerto hold potatoes or any single vegetable in place within the vastgeneral pot. 

Chafing-dishes and skimmers of brass and copper were also cheerful discsto reflect the kitchen firelight. 

Very little tin was seen, either for kitchen or table utensils. GovernorWinthrop had a few tin plates, and some Southern planters had tin pans, others "tynnen covers. " Tin pails were unknown; and the pails they didown, either of wood, brass, or other sheet metal, had no bails, but werecarried by thrusting a stick through little ears on either side of thepail. Latten ware was used instead of tin; it was a kind of brass. Avery good collection of century-old tinware is shown in theillustration. By a curious chance this tinware lay unpacked for overninety years in the attic loft of a country warehouse, in thepacking-box, just as it was delivered from an English ship at the closeof the Revolution. The pulling down of the warehouse disclosed the box, with its dated labels. The tin utensils are more gayly lacquered thanmodern ones, otherwise they differ little from the tinware of to-day. 

There was one distinct characteristic in the house-furnishing of oldentimes which is lacking to-day. It was a tendency for the main body ofeverything to set well up, on legs which were strong enough for adequatesupport of the weight, yet were slender in appearance. To-day bureaus, bedsteads, cabinets, desks, sideboards, come close to the floor;formerly chests of drawers, Chippendale sideboards, four-post bedsteads, dressing-cases, were set, often a foot high, in a tidy, cleanly fashion;thus they could all be thoroughly swept under. This same peculiarity ofform extended to cooking-utensils. Pots and kettles had legs, as shownin those hanging in the slave-kitchen fireplace; gridirons had legs, skillets had legs; and further appliances in the shape of trivets, which were movable frames, took the place of legs. The necessity for thestilting up of cooking-utensils was a very evident one; it was necessaryto raise the body of the utensil above the ashes and coals of the openfireplace. If the bed of coals and burning logs were too deep for theskillet or pot-legs, then the utensil must be hung from above by theever-ready trammel. 

Often in the corner of the fireplace there stood a group of trivets, orthree-legged stands, of varying heights, through which the exactlydesired proximity to the coals could be obtained. 

Even toasting-forks, and similar frail utensils of wire or wrought iron, stood on tall, spindling legs, or were carefully shaped to be set up ontrivets. They usually had, also, long, adjustable handles, which helpedto make endurable the blazing heat of the great logs. All such irons aswaffle-irons had far longer handles than are seen on anycooking-utensils in these days of stoves and ranges, where the flamesare covered and the housewife shielded. Gridirons had long handles ofwood or iron, which could be fastened to the shorter stationary handles. The two gridirons in the accompanying illustration are a century old. The circular one was the oldest form. The oblong ones, with groove tocollect the gravy, did not vary in shape till our own day. Both haveindications of fittings for long handles, but the handles have vanished. A long-handled frying-pan is seen hanging by the side of theslave-kitchen fireplace. 

An accompaniment of the kitchen fireplace, found, not in farmhouses, butamong luxury-loving town-folk, was the plate-warmer. They are seldomnamed in inventories, and I know of but one of Revolutionary days, andit is here shown. Similar ones are manufactured to-day; the legs, perhaps, are shorter, but the general outline is the same. 

An important furnishing of every fireplace was the andirons. In kitchenfireplaces these were usually of iron, and the shape known as goose-neckwere common. Cob irons were the simplest form, and merely supported thespit; sometimes they had hooks to hold a dripping-pan. A common name forthe kitchen andirons was fire-dogs; and creepers were low, smallandirons, usually used with the tall fire-dogs. The kitchen andironswere simply for use to help hold the logs and cooking-utensils. Butother fireplaces had handsome fire-dogs of copper, brass, or cut steel, cast or wrought in handsome devices. These were a pride and delight tothe housewife. 

A primitive method of roasting a joint of meat or a fowl was bysuspending it in front of the fire by a strong hempen string tied to apeg in the ceiling, while some one--usually an unwillingchild--occasionally turned the roast around. Sometimes the soleturnspit was the housewife, who, every time she basted the roast, gavethe string a good twist, and thereafter it would untwist, and then twista little again, and so on until the vibration ceased, when she againbasted and started it. As the juices sometimes ran down in the roast andleft the upper part too dry, a "double string-roaster" was invented, bywhich the equilibrium of the joint could be shifted. A jack was aconvenient and magnified edition of the primitive string, being a metalsuspensory machine. A still further glorification was the addition of arevolving power which ran by clockwork and turned the roast withregularity; this was known as a clock-jack. The one here shown hangs inthe fireplace in Deerfield Memorial Hall. A smoke-jack was run somewhatirregularly by the pressure of smoke and the current of hot air in thechimney. These were noisy and creaking and not regarded with favor byold-fashioned cooks. 

We are apt to think of the turnspit dog as a creature of European life, but we had them here in America--little low, bow-legged, patient souls, trained to run in a revolving cylinder and keep the roasting jointa-turn before the fire. Mine host Clark of the State House Inn inPhiladelphia in the first half of the eighteenth century advertised inBenjamin Franklin's _Pennsylvania Gazette_ that he had for sale "severaldogs and wheels, much preferable to any jacks for roasting any joints ofmeat. " I hope neither he nor any one else had many of these littlecanine slaves. 

A frequent accompaniment of the kitchen fireplace in the eighteenthcentury, and a domestic luxury seen in well-to-do homes, was the variousforms of the "roasting-kitchen, " or Dutch oven. These succeeded thejacks; they were a box-like arrangement open on one side which when inuse was turned to the fire. Like other utensils of the day, they oftenstood up on legs, to bring the open side before the blaze. A little doorat the back could be opened for convenience in basting the roast. Thesekitchens came in various sizes for roasting birds or joints, and in thembread was occasionally baked. The bake-kettle, which in some communitieswas also called a Dutch oven, was preferred for baking bread. It was astrong kettle, standing, of course, on stout, stumpy legs, and when inuse was placed among the hot coals and closely covered with a strongmetal, convex cover, on which coals were also closely heaped. Suchperfect rolls, such biscuit, such shortcake, as issued from theheaped-up bake-kettle can never be equalled by other methods of cooking. 

When the great stone chimney was built, there was usually placed on oneside of the kitchen fireplace a brick oven which had a smoke uptake intothe chimney--and-an ash-pit below. The great door was of iron. This ovenwas usually heated once a week. A great fire of dry wood, called ovenwood, was kindled within it and kept burning fiercely for some hours. This thoroughly heated all the bricks. The coals and ashes were thenswept out, the chimney draught closed, and the oven filled with brownbread, pies, pots of beans, etc. Sometimes the bread was baked in pans, sometimes it was baked in a great mass set on cabbage leaves or oakleaves. In some towns an autumn harvest of oak leaves was gathered bychildren to use throughout the winter. The leaves were strung on sticks. This gathering was called going a-leafing. 

By the oven side was always a long-handled shovel known as a peel orslice, which sometimes had a rack or rest to hold it; this implement wasa necessity in order to place the food well within the glowing oven. Thepeel was sprinkled with meal, great heaps of dough were placed thereon, and by a dexterous twist they were thrown on the cabbage or oak leaves. A bread peel was a universal gift to a bride; it was significant ofdomestic utility and plenty, and was held to be luck-bearing. OnThanksgiving week the great oven had a fire built in it every morning, and every night it was well filled and closed till morning. 

On one side of the kitchen often stood a dresser, on which was placed inorderly rows the cheerful pewter and scant earthenware of thehousehold:--

 "----the room was bright With glimpses of reflected light, From plates that on the dresser shone. "

In Dutch households plate-racks, spoon-racks, knife-racks, --all hangingon the wall, --took the place of the New England dresser. 

In the old Phillips farmhouse at Wickford, Rhode Island, is a splendidchimney over twenty feet square. So much room does it occupy that thereis no central staircase, but little winding stairs ascend at threecorners of the house. In the vast fireplace an ox could literally havebeen roasted. On each chimney-piece are hooks to hang firearms, and atone side curious little drawers are set for pipes and tobacco. In someDutch houses in New York these tobacco shelves are in the entry, overthe front door, and a narrow flight of three or four steps leads up tothem. Hanging on a nail alongside the tobacco drawer, or shelf, wouldusually be seen a pipe-tongs, or smoking-tongs. They were slenderlittle tongs, usually of iron or steel; with them the smoker lifted acoal from the fireplace to light his pipe. The tongs owned and used byCaptain Joshua Wingate, of Hampton, New Hampshire, who lived from 1679to 1769, are here shown. The handle is unlike any other I have seen, having one end elongated, knobbed, and ingeniously bent S-shaped intoconvenient form to press down the tobacco into the bowl of the pipe. Other old-time pipe-tongs were in the form of lazy-tongs. A companion ofthe pipe-tongs on the kitchen mantel was what was known as acomfortier--a little brazier of metal in which small coals could behanded about for pipe-lighting. An unusual luxury was a comfortier ofsilver. These were found among the Dutch settlers. 

The Pennsylvania Germans were the first to use stoves. These were ofvarious shapes. A curious one, seen in houses and churches, was ofsheet-metal, box-shaped; three sides were within the house, and thefourth, with the stove door, outside the house. Thus what was reallythe back of the stove projected into the room, and when the fire was fedit was necessary for the tender to go out of doors. These German stovesand hot-air drums, which heated the second story of the house, were evera fresh wonder to travellers of English birth and descent inPennsylvania. There is no doubt that their evident economy and comfortsuggested to Benjamin Franklin the "New Pennsylvania Fireplace, " whichhe invented in 1742, in which both wood and coal could be used, andwhich was somewhat like the heating apparatus which we now call aFranklin stove, or heater. 

Thus German settlers had, in respect to heating, the most comfortablehomes of all the colonies. Among the English settlers the kitchen was, too often, the only comfortable room in the house in winter weather. Indeed, the discomforts and inconveniences of a colonial home couldscarcely be endured to-day; of course these culminated in the wintertime, when icy blasts blew fiercely down the great chimneys, and rattledthe loosely fitting windows. Children suffered bitterly in these coldhouses. The rooms were not warm three feet away from the blaze of thefire. Cotton Mather and Judge Samuel Sewall both tell, in their diaries, of the ink freezing in their pens as they wrote within thechimney-side. One noted that, when a great fire was built on the hearth, the sap forced out of the wood by the flames froze into ice at the endof the logs. The bedrooms were seldom warmed, and had it not been forthe deep feather beds and heavy bed-curtains, would have beenunendurable. In Dutch and some German houses, with alcove bedsteads, andsleeping on one feather bed, with another for cover, the Dutch settlerscould be far warmer than any English settlers, even in four-postbedsteads curtained with woollen. 

Water froze immediately if left standing in bedrooms. One diary, writtenin Marshfield, Massachusetts, tells of a basin of water standing on thebedroom hearth, in front of a blazing fire, in which the water frozesolid. President John Adams so dreaded the bleak New England winter andthe ill-warmed houses that he longed to sleep like a dormouse everyyear, from autumn to spring. In the Southern colonies, during the fewercold days of the winter months, the temperature was not so low, but thehouses were more open and lightly built than in the North, and werewithout cellars, and had fewer fireplaces; hence the discomfort from thecold was as great, if not the positive suffering. 

The first chilling entrance into the ice-cold bed of a winter bedroomwas sometimes mitigated by heating the inner sheets with a warming-pan. This usually hung by the side of the kitchen fireplace, and when usedwas filled with hot coals, and thrust within the bed, and constantly andrapidly moved back and forth to keep from scorching the bed-linen. Thewarming-pan was a circular metal pan about a foot in diameter, four orfive inches deep, with a long wooden handle and a perforated metalcover, usually of copper or brass, which was kept highly polished, andformed, as it hung on the wall, one of the cheerful kitchen discs toreflect the light of the glowing fire. The warming-pan has been deemedof sufficient decorative capacity to make it eagerly sought after bycollectors, and a great room of one of these collectors is hung entirelyaround the four walls with a frieze of warming-pans. 

Many of our New England poets have given us glimpses in rhyme of theold-time kitchen. Lowell's well-known lines are vivid enough to bearnever-dying quotation:--

 "A fireplace filled the rooms one side With half a cord of wood in-- There warn't no stoves (tell comfort died) To bake ye to a puddin'. 

 "The wa'nut log shot sparkles out Towards the pootiest--bless her! An' little flames danced all about The chiny on the dresser. 

 "Agin the crumbly crooknecks hung, An' in amongst 'em rusted The old queen's-arm that granther Young Fetched back from Concord busted. "

To me the true essence of the old-time fireside is found in Whittier's_Snow-Bound_. The very chimney, fireplace, and hearthstone of which hisbeautiful lines were written, the kitchen of Whittier's boyhood's home, at East Haverhill, Massachusetts, is shown in the accompanyingillustration. It shows a swinging crane. His description of the "layingthe fire" can never be equalled by any prose:--

 "We piled with care our nightly stack Of wood against the chimney back-- The oaken log, green, huge, and thick, And on its top the stout back-stick; The knotty fore-stick laid apart, And filled between with curious art The ragged brush; then hovering near, We watched the first red blaze appear, Heard the sharp crackle, caught the gleam On whitewashed wall and sagging beam, Until the old, rude-furnished room Burst, flower-like, into rosy bloom. "

No greater picture of homely contentment could be shown than thefollowing lines:--

 "Shut in from all the world without, We sat the clean-winged hearth about, Content to let the north wind roar In baffled rage at pane and door, While the red logs before us beat The frost-line back with tropic heat; And ever, when a louder blast Shook beam and rafter as it passed, The merrier up its roaring draught The great throat of the chimney laughed. The house dog on his paws outspread Laid to the fire his drowsy head, The cat's dark silhouette on the wall A couchant tiger's seemed to fall; And, for the winter fireside meet, Between the andirons' straddling feet The mug of cider simmered slow, And apples sputtered in a row. And, close at hand, the basket stood With nuts from brown October's woods. What matter how the night behaved! What matter how the north wind raved! Blow high, blow low, not all its snow Could quench our hearth-fire's ruddy glow. "

Nor can the passing of years dim the ruddy glow of that hearth-fire, northe charm of the poem. The simplicity of metre, the purity of wording, the gentle sadness of some of its expressions, make us read between thelines the deep and affectionate reminiscence with which it was written. 

CHAPTER IV

THE SERVING OF MEALS

Perhaps no greater difference exists between any mode of the olden timesand that of to-day, than can be seen in the manner of serving the mealsof the family. In the first place, the very dining-table of thecolonists was not like our present ones; it was a long and narrow board, sometimes but three feet wide, with no legs attached to it. It was laidon supports or trestles, shaped usually something like a saw-horse. Thusit was literally a board, and was called a table-board, and the linencover used at meals was not called a tablecloth, but a board-cloth orboard-clothes. 

As smoothly sawed and finished boards were not so plentiful at first inthe colonies as might naturally be thought when we remember the vastencircling forests, all such boards were carefully treasured, and usedmany times to avoid sawing others by the tedious and wearying process ofpit-sawing. Hence portions of packing-boxes, or chests which had carriedstores from England to the colonies, were made into table-boards. Onesuch oaken table-board, still in existence, has on the under side inquaint lettering the name and address of the Boston settler to whom theoriginal packing-box was sent in 1638. 

The old-time board-cloth was in no way inferior in quality or whitenessto our present table-linen; for we know how proud colonial wives anddaughters were of the linen of their own spinning, weaving, andbleaching. The linen tablecloth was either of holland, huckaback, dowlas, osnaburg, or lockram--all heavy and comparatively coarsematerials--or of fine damask, just as to-day; some of the handsomeboard-cloths were even trimmed with lace. 

The colonists had plenty of napkins; more, as a rule, than families ofcorresponding means and station own to-day. They had need of them, forwhen America was first settled forks were almost unknown to Englishpeople--being used for eating in luxurious Italy alone, where travellershaving seen and found them useful and cleanly, afterwards introducedthem into England. So hands had to be constantly employed for holdingfood, instead of the forks we now use, and napkins were therefore asconstantly necessary. The first fork brought to America was for GovernorJohn Winthrop, in Boston, in 1633, and it was in a leather case with aknife and a bodkin. If the governor ate with a fork at the table, hewas doubtless the only person in the colony who did so. Thirty or fortyyears later a few two-tined iron and silver forks were brought acrossthe water, and used in New York and Virginia, as well as Massachusetts;and by the end of the century they had come into scant use at the tablesof persons of wealth and fashion. The first mention of a fork inVirginia is in an inventory dated 1677; this was of a single fork. Thesalt-cellar, or saler, as it was first called, was the centrepiece ofthe table--"Sett in the myddys of the tabull, " says an old treatise onlaying the table. It was often large and high, of curious device insilver, and was then called a standing salt. Guests of honor were seated"above the salt, " that is, near the end of the table where sat the hostand hostess side by side; while children and persons who were not ofmuch dignity or account as guests were placed "below the salt, " that is, below the middle of the table. 

There is owned by Harvard University, and here shown in anillustration, "a great silver salt" given to the college in 1644, whenthe new seat of learning was but eight years old. At the table itdivided graduates, the faculty, and such, from the undergraduates. Itwas valued at £5 1s. 3d. , at five shillings an ounce, which wasequal to a hundred dollars to-day; a rich gift, which shows to me theprofound affection of the settlers for the new college. It is inscribedwith the name of the giver, Mr. Richard Harris. It is of simple Englishdesign well known during that century, and made in various sizes. Thereis no doubt that many of similar pattern, though not so heavy or sorich, were seen on the tables of substantial colonists. They are namedin many wills. Often a small projecting arm was attached to one side, over which a folded napkin could be thrown to be used as a cover; forthe salt-cellar was usually kept covered, not only to preservecleanliness, but in earlier days to prevent the ready introduction ofpoison. 

There are some very entertaining and curious old English books whichwere written in the sixteenth century to teach children and youngrustics correct and elegant manners at the table, and also helpful waysin which to serve others. These books are called _The Babees Boke_, _TheBoke of Nurture_, _The Boke of Curteseye_, etc. , and with the exceptionof variations in the way of serving a dinner, and a few obsoletecustoms, and in the names and shapes and materials of the differentdishes, plates, etc. , used at the table, these books are just asinstructive and sensible to-day as then. From them we learn that theonly kind of table furnishings used at that time were cups to drink outof; spoons and knives to eat with; chafing-dishes to serve hot food;chargers for display and for serving large quantities of food;salt-cellars, and trenchers for use as plates. There were very few othertable appointments used on any English table, either humble or great, when the Pilgrims landed at Plymouth. 

One of the most important articles for setting the table was thetrencher. These were made of wood, and often were only a block of wood, about ten or twelve inches square and three or four deep, hollowed downinto a sort of bowl in the middle. In this the food wasplaced, --porridge, meat, vegetables, etc. Each person did not have evenone of these simple dishes; usually two children, or a man and his wife, ate out of one trencher. This was a custom in England for many years;and some very great people, a duke and his wife, not more than a centuryand a half ago, sat side by side at the table and ate out of one plateto show their unity and affection. It is told of an old Connecticutsettler, a deacon, that as he had a wood-turning mill, he thought hewould have a trencher apiece for his children. So he turned a sufficientnumber of round trenchers in his mill. For this his neighbors deemed himdeeply extravagant and putting on too many airs, both as to quantity andquality, since square trenchers, one for use by two persons, were goodenough for any one, even a deacon. So great a warrior and so prominent aman in the colony as Miles Standish used wooden trenchers at the table, as also did all the early governors. Nor did they disdain to name themin their wills, as valued household possessions. For many years collegeboys at Harvard ate out of wooden trenchers at the college mess-table. 

I have seen a curious old table top, or table-board, which permitteddiners seated at it to dispense with trenchers or plates. It was ofheavy oak about six inches thick, and at intervals of about eighteeninches around its edge were scooped out deep, bowl-shaped holes aboutten inches in diameter, in which each individual's share of the dinnerwas placed. After each meal the top was lifted off the trestles, thoroughly washed and dried, and was ready for the next meal. 

Poplar-wood is an even, white, and shining wood. Until the middle ofthis century poplar-wood trenchers and plates were used on the table inVermont, and were really attractive dishes. From earliest days theIndians made and sold many bowls and trenchers of maple-wood knots. Oneof these bowls, owned by King Philip, is at the rooms of theMassachusetts Historical Society in Boston. Old wooden trenchers and"Indian bowls" can be seen at the Memorial Hall in Deerfield. Bottleswere made also of wood, and drinking-cups and "noggins, " which were asort of mug with a handle. Wood furnished many articles for the table tothe colonist, just as it did in later days on our Western frontiers, where trenchers of wood and plates of birch-bark were seen in everylog-cabin. 

The word tankard was originally applied to a heavy and large vessel ofwood banded with metal, in which to carry water. Smaller wooden drinkingtankards were subsequently made and used throughout Europe, and wereoccasionally brought here by the colonists. The plainly shaped woodentankard, made of staves and hoops and here shown, is from the collectionat Deerfield Memorial Hall. It was found in the house of Rev. Eli Moody. These commonplace tankards of staves were not so rare as the beautifulcarved and hooped tankard which is here pictured, and which is in thecollection of Mrs. Samuel Bowne Duryea, of Brooklyn. I have seen a fewother quaintly carved ones, black with age, in American families ofHuguenot descent; these were apparently Swiss carvings. 

The chargers, or large round platters found on every dining-table, wereof pewter. Some were so big and heavy that they weighed five or sixpounds apiece. Pewter is a metal never seen for modern tablefurnishing, or domestic use in any form to-day; but in colonial timeswhat was called a garnish of pewter, that is, a full set of pewterplatters, plates, and dishes, was the pride of every good housekeeper, and also a favorite wedding gift. It was kept as bright and shining assilver. One of the duties of children was to gather a kind of horse-tailrush which grew in the marshes, and because it was used to scour pewter, was called scouring-rush. 

Pewter bottles of various sizes were sent to the Massachusetts BayColony, in 1629. Governor Endicott had one, but they were certainly farfrom common. Dram cups, wine mugs, and funnels of pewter were alsooccasionally seen, but scarcely formed part of ordinary tablefurnishings. Metheglin cans and drinking-mugs of pewter were found onnearly every table. Pewter was used until this century in the wealthiesthomes, both in the North and South, and was preferred by many who ownedrich china. Among the pewter-lovers was the Revolutionary patriot, JohnHancock, who hated the clatter of the porcelain plates. 

Porringers of pewter, and occasionally of silver, were much used at thetable, chiefly for children to eat from. These were a pretty littleshallow circular dish with a flat-pierced handle. Some had a "fish-tail"handle; these are said to be Dutch. These porringers were in manysizes, from tiny little ones two inches in diameter to those eight ornine inches across. When not in use many housekeepers kept them hangingon hooks on the edge of a shelf, where they formed a pretty and cheerfuldecoration. The poet Swift says:--

 "The porringers that in a row Hung high and made a glittering show. "

It should be stated that the word porringer, as used by Englishcollectors, usually refers to a deep cup with a cover and two handles, while what we call porringers are known to these collectors asbleeding-basins or tasters. Here we apply the term taster, orwine-taster, to a small, shallow silver cup with bosses in the bottom toreflect the light and show the color and quality of wine. I have oftenseen the item wine-taster in colonial inventories and wills, but neverbleeding-basin; while porringers were almost universal on such lists. Some families had a dozen. I have found fifteen in one old New Englandfarmhouse. The small porringers are sometimes called posnets, which isan old-time word that may originally have referred to a posset-cup. 

"Spoons, " says the learned archæologist, Laborde, "if not as old as theworld, are as old as soup. " All the colonists had spoons, and certainlyall needed them, for at that time much of their food was in the form ofsoup and "spoon-meat, " such as had to be eaten with spoons when therewere no forks. Meat was usually made into hashes or ragouts; thick stewsand soups with chopped vegetables and meats were common, as werehotch-pots. The cereal foods, which formed so large a part of Englishfare in the New World, were more frequently boiled in porridge thanbaked in loaves. Many of the spoons were of pewter. Worn-out pewterplates and dishes could be recast into new pewter spoons. The mouldswere of wood or iron. The spoon mould of one of the first settlers ofGreenfield, Massachusetts, named Martindale, is here shown with apewter spoon. In this mould all his spoons and those of his neighborswere cast. It is now in the Deerfield Memorial Hall. 

A still more universal spoon material was alchymy, also called occamy, alcamy, arkamy, etc. , a metal never used now, which was made of amixture of pan-brass and arsenicum. Wooden spoons, too, were alwaysseen. In Pennsylvania and New York laurel was called spoonwood, becausethe Indians made pretty white spoons from that wood to sell to thecolonists. Horn was an appropriate and available material for spoons. Many Indian tribes excelled as they do to-day in the making of hornspoons. The vulgar affirmation, "By the great horn spoon, " hasperpetuated their familiar use. 

Every family of any considerable possessions or owning good householdfurnishings had a few silver spoons; nearly every person owned at leastone. At the time America was settled the common form of silver spoon inEngland had what was known as a baluster stem and a seal head; the assaymark was in the inner part of the bowl. But the fashion was justchanging, and a new and much altered form was introduced which was madein large numbers until the opening reign of George I. This shape was thevery one without doubt in which many of the spoons of the firstcolonists were made; and wherever such spoons are found, if they aregenuine antiques, they may safely be assigned a date earlier than 1714. The handle was flat and broad at the end, where it was cleft in threepoints which were turned up, that is, not toward the back of the spoon. This was known as the "hind's-foot handle. " The bowl was a perfectlyregular ellipse and was strengthened by continuing the handle in anarrow tongue or rat-tail, which ran down the back of the bowl. Thesucceeding fashion, in the early part of the eighteenth century, had alonger elliptical bowl. The end of the handle was rounded and turned upat the end, and it had a high sharp ridge down the middle. This wasknown as the old English shape, and was in common use for half acentury. About the period of our Revolutionary War a shape nearly likethe one in ordinary present use became the mode; the bowl becameegg-shaped, and the end of the handle was turned down instead of up. Therat-tail, which extended down the back of the bowl, was shortened into adrop. Apostle spoons, and monkey spoons for extraordinary use wereoccasionally made, and a few are still preserved; examples of five typesof spoons are shown from the collection of Edward Holbrook, Esq. , of NewYork. 

Families of consequence had usually a few pieces of silver besides theirspoons and the silver salt. Some kind of a drinking-cup was the usualform. Persons of moderate means often owned a silver cup. I have seen inearly inventories and lists the names of a large variety of silvervessels: tankards, beer-bowls, beakers, flagons, wine cups, wine bowls, wine cans, tasters, caudle-cups, posset-cups, dram-cups, punch-bowls, tumblers, mugs, dram bottles, two-eared cups, and flasks. Virginians andMarylanders in the seventeenth century had much more silver than NewEnglanders. Some Dutch merchants had ample amounts. It was deemed agood and safe investment for spare money. Bread-baskets, salvers, muffineers, chafing-dishes, casters, milk pitchers, sugar boxes, candlesticks, appear in inventories at the end of the century. A tankardor flagon, even if heavy and handsome, would be placed on the table forevery-day use; the other pieces were usually set on the cupboard's headfor ornament. 

The handsome silver tankard owned by Sarah Jansen de Rapelje is hereshown. She was the first child of European parents born in NewNetherland. The tankard was a wedding gift from her husband, and a Dutchwedding scene is graven on the lid. 

There was a great desire for glass, a rare novelty to many persons atthe date of colonization. The English were less familiar with its usethan settlers who came from Continental Europe. The establishment ofglass factories was attempted in early days in several places, chieflyto manufacture sheet-glass, but with slight success. Little glass wasowned in the shape of drinking-vessels, none used generally on thetable, I think, during the first few years. Glass bottles were certainlya great rarity, and were bequeathed with special mention in wills, andthey are the only form of glass vessel named. The earliest glass fortable use was greenish in color, like coarse bottle glass, and poor inquality, sometimes decorated in crude designs in a few colors. Bristolglass, in the shape of mugs and plates, was next seen. It was opaque, amilky white color, and was coarsely decorated with vitrifiable colors ina few lines of red, green, yellow, or black, occasionally with initials, dates, or Scriptural references. 

Though shapes were varied, and the number was generally plentiful, therewas no attempt made to give separate drinking-cups of any kind to eachindividual at the table. Blissfully ignorant of the existence orpresence of microbes, germs, and bacteria, our sturdy and unsqueamishforbears drank contentedly in succession from a single vessel, whichwas passed from hand to hand, and lip to lip, around the board. Evenwhen tumbler-shaped glasses were seen in many houses, --flip-glasses, they were called, --they were of communal size, --some held a gallon, --andall drank from the same glass. The great punch-bowl, not a very handyvessel to handle when filled with punch, was passed up and down asfreely as though it were a loving-cup, and all drank from its brim. Atcollege tables, and even at tavern boards, where table neighbors mightbe strangers, the flowing bowl and foaming tankard was passed serenelyfrom one to another, and replenished to pass again. 

Leather was perhaps the most curious material used. Pitchers, bottles, and drinking-cups were made of it. Great jugs of heavy black leather, waxed and bound, and tipped with silver, were used to hold metheglin, ale, and beer, and were a very substantial, and at times a very handsomevessel. The finest examples I have ever seen are here represented. Thestitches and waxed thread at the base and on the handles can plainly beperceived. They are bound with a rich silver band, and have a silvershield bearing a date of gift to Samuel Brenton in 1778; but they areprobably a century older than that date. They are the property byinheritance of Miss Rebecca Shaw, aged ninety-six years, of Wickford, Rhode Island. 

The use of these great leather jacks, in a clumsier form than hereshown, led to the amusing mistake of a French traveller, that theEnglish drank their ale out of their boots. These leather jugs werecommonly called black jacks, and the larger ones were bombards. Giskinwas still another and rarer name. 

Drinking-cups were sometimes made of horn. A handsome one has been usedsince colonial days on Long Island for "quince drink, " a potent mixtureof hot rum, sugar, and quince marmalade, or preserves. It has a base ofsilver, a rim of silver, and a cover of horn tipped with silver. Astirrup-cup of horn, tipped with silver, was used to "speed the partingguest. " Occasionally the whole horn, in true mediæval fashion, was usedas a drinking-cup. Often they were carved with considerable skill, asthe beautiful ones in the collection of Mr. A. G. Richmond, ofCanajoharie, New York. 

Gourds were plentiful on the farm, and gathered with care, that thehard-shelled fruit might be shaped into simple drinking-cups. InElizabeth's time silver cups were made in the shape of these gourds. Theships that brought "lemmons and raysins of the sun" from the tropics tothe colonists, also brought cocoanuts. Since the thirteenth century theshells of cocoanuts have been mounted with silver feet and "covercles"in a goblet shape, and been much sought after by Englishmen. Mounted inpewter, and sometimes in silver, or simply shaped with a wooden handleattached, the shell of the cocoanut was a favorite among the Englishsettlers. To this day one of the cocoanut-shell cups, or dippers, is afavorite drinking-cup of many. A handsome cocoanut goblet, richlymounted in silver, is shown in the accompanying illustration. It wasonce the property of the Revolutionary patriot, John Hancock, and is nowin the custody of the Bostonian Society, at the Old State House, inBoston, Massachusetts. 

Popular drinking-mugs of the English, from which specially they dranktheir mead, metheglin, and ale, were the stoneware jugs which were madein Germany and England, in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, ingreat numbers. An English writer in 1579, spoke of the English custom ofdrinking from "pots of earth, of sundry colors and moulds, whereof manyare garnished with silver, or leastwise with pewter. " Such a piece ofstoneware is the oldest authenticated drinking-jug in this country, which was brought here and used by English colonists. It was theproperty of Governor John Winthrop, who came to Boston in 1630, and nowbelongs to the American Antiquarian Society, in Worcester, Massachusetts. It stands eight inches in height, is apparently of GermanGresware, and is heavily mounted in silver. The lid is engraved with aquaint design of Adam and Eve and the tempting serpent in theapple-tree. It was a gift to John Winthrop's father from his sister, Lady Mildmay, in 1607, and was then, and is still now, labelled, "astone Pot tipped and covered with a Silver Lydd. " Many other Bostoncolonists had similar "stone juggs, " "fflanders juggs, " "tipt juggs. "What were known as "Fulham juggs" were also much prized. The mostinteresting ones are the Georgius Rex jugs, those marked with a crown, the initials G. R. , or a medallion head of the first of the EnglishGeorges. I know one of these jugs which has a Revolutionary bulletimbedded in its tough old side, and is not even cracked. Many of themhad pewter or silver lids, which are now missing. Some have the curioushound handle which was so popular with English potters. 

There was no china in common use on the table, and little owned even bypersons of wealth throughout the seventeenth century, either in Englandor America. Delft ware was made in several factories in Holland at thetime the Dutch settled in New Netherland; but even in the towns of itsmanufacture it was not used for table ware. The pieces were usually oflarge size, what were called state pieces, for cabinet and decorativepurposes. The Dutch settlers, however, had "purslin cupps" and earthendishes in considerable quantities toward the end of the century. Theearthen was possibly Delft ware, and the "Purslin" India china, which bythat time was largely imported to Holland. Some Portuguese and Spanishpottery was imported, but was not much desired, as it was ill fired andperishable. It was not until Revolutionary times that china was a commontable furnishing; then it began to crowd out pewter. The sudden andenormous growth of East India commerce, and the vast cargoes of Chinesepottery and porcelain wares brought to American ports soon gave amplechina to every housewife. In the Southern colonies beautiful isolatedpieces of porcelain, such as vast punch-bowls, often were found in thehomes of opulent planters; but there, as in the North, the first chinafor general table use was the handleless tea-cups, usually of someCanton ware, which crept with the fragrant herb into every woman'sheart--both welcome Oriental waifs. 

It may well be imagined that this long narrow table--with a highsalt-cellar in the middle, with clumsy wooden trenchers for plates, withround pewter platters heaped high with the stew of meat and vegetables, with a great noggin or two of wood, a can of pewter, or a silver tankardto drink from, with leather jacks to hold beer or milk, with many woodenor pewter and some silver spoons, but no forks, no glass, no china, nocovered dishes, no saucers--did not look much like our dinner tablesto-day. 

Even the seats were different; there were seldom chairs or stools foreach person. A long narrow bench without a back, called a form, wasplaced on each side of the table. Children in many households were notallowed to sit, even on these uncomfortable forms, while eating. Manytimes they had to stand by the side of the table during the entire meal;in old-fashioned families that uncomfortable and ungracious customlasted till this century. I know of children not fifty years agostanding thus at all meals at the table of one of the Judges of theSupreme Court. He had a bountiful table, was a hospitable entertainerand well-known epicure; but children sat not at his board. Each stood athis own place and had to behave with decorum and eat in entire silence. In some families children stood behind their parents and other grownpersons, and food was handed back to them from the table--so we aretold. This seems closely akin to throwing food to an animal, and musthave been among people of very low station and social manners. 

In other houses they stood at a side-table; and, trencher in hand, ranover to the great table to be helped to more food when their firstsupply was eaten. 

The chief thought on the behavior of children at the table, which mustbe inferred from all the accounts we have of those times is that theywere to eat in silence, as fast as possible (regardless of indigestion), and leave the table as speedily as might be. In a little book called _APretty Little Pocket Book_, printed in America about the time of theRevolution, I found a list of rules for the behavior of children at thetable at that date. They were ordered never to seat themselves at thetable until after the blessing had been asked, and their parents toldthem to be seated. They were never to ask for anything on the table;never to speak unless spoken to; always to break the bread, not to biteinto a whole slice; never to take salt except with a clean knife; not tothrow bones under the table. One rule read: "Hold not thy knife upright, but sloping; lay it down at right hand of the plate, with end of bladeon the plate. " Another, "Look not earnestly at any other person that iseating. " When children had eaten all that had been given them, if theywere "moderately satisfied, " they were told to leave at once the tableand room. 

When the table-board described herein was set with snowy linen cloth andnapkins, and ample fare, it had some compensations for what modernluxuries it lacked, some qualifications for inducing contentmentsuperior even to our beautiful table-settings. There was nothingperishable in its entire furnishing: no frail and costly china or glass, whose injury and destruction by clumsy or heedless servants would makethe heart of the housekeeper ache, and her anger nourish the germs ofptomaines within her. There was little of intrinsic value to watch andguard and worry about. There was little to make extra and difficultwork, --no glass to wash with anxious care, no elaborate silver toclean, --only a few pieces of pewter to polish occasionally. It was allso easy and so simple when compared with the complex and variedparaphernalia and accompaniments of serving of meals to-day, that it waslike Arcadian simplicity. 

In Virginia the table furnishings were similar to those in New England;but there were greater contrasts in table appointments. There was moresilver, and richer food; but the negro servants were so squalid, clumsy, and uncouth that the incongruity made the meals very surprising and, attimes, repellent. 

When dinners of some state were given in the larger towns, the table wasnot set or served like the formal dinner of to-day, for all the sweets, pastry, vegetables, and meats were placed on the table together, with agrand "conceit" for the ornament in the centre. At one period, whenpudding was part of the dinner, it was served first. Thus an old-timesaying is explained, which always seemed rather meaningless, "I cameearly--in pudding-time. " There was considerable formality in portioningout the food, especially in carving, which was regarded as much morethan a polite accomplishment, even as an art. I have seen a list ofsixty or seventy different terms in carving to be applied with exactnessto different fish, fowl, and meats. An old author says:--

 "How all must regret to hear some Persons, even of quality say, 'pray cut up that Chicken or Hen, ' or 'Halve that Plover'; not considering how indiscreetly they talk, when the proper Terms are, 'break that Goose, ' 'thrust that Chicken, ' 'spoil that Hen, ' 'pierce that Plover. ' If they are so much out in common Things, how much more would they be with Herons, Cranes, and Peacocks. "

It must have required good judgment and constant watchfulness never tosay "spoil that Hen, " when it was a chicken; or else be thoughthopelessly ill-bred. 

There were few state dinners, however, served in the American colonies, even in the large cities; there were few dinners, even, of many courses;not always were there many dishes. There were still seen in many homesmore primitive forms of serving and eating meals, than were indicated bythe lack of individual drinking-cups, the mutual use of a trencher, oreven the utilization of the table top as a plate. In some homes anabundant dish, such as a vast bowl of suppawn and milk, a pumpkin stewedwhole in its shell, or a savory and mammoth hotchpot was set, oftensmoking hot, on the table-board; and from this well-filled receptacleeach hungry soul, armed with a long-handled pewter or wooden spoon, helped himself, sometimes ladling his great spoonfuls into a trencheror bowl, for more moderate and reserved after-consumption, --just asfrequently eating directly from the bountiful dish with a spoon thatcame and went from dish to mouth without reproach, or thought ofill-manners. The accounts of travellers in all the colonies frequentlytell of such repasts; some termed it eating in the fashion of the Dutch. The reports of old settlers often recall the general dish; and some verydistinguished persons joined in the circle around it, and were glad toget it. Variety was of little account, compared to quantity and quality. A cheerful hospitality and grateful hearts filled the hollow place offormality and elegance. 

By the time that newspapers began to have advertisements in them--about1750--we find many more articles for use at the table; but often thenames were different from those used to-day. Our sugar bowls were calledsugar boxes and sugar pots; milk pitchers were milk jugs, milk ewers, and milk pots. Vegetable dishes were called basins, pudding dishestwifflers, small cups were called sneak cups. 

We have still to-day a custom much like one of olden times, when we havethe crumbs removed from our tables after a course at dinner. Then avoider was passed around the table near the close of the dinner, andinto it the persons at the table placed their trenchers, napkins, andthe crumbs from the table. The voider was a deep wicker, wooden, ormetal basket. In the _Boke of Nurture_, written in 1577, are theselines:--

 "When meate is taken quyte awaye And Voyders in presence, Put you your trenchour in the same and all your resydence. Take you with your napkin & knyfe the croms that are fore the, In the Voyder your Napkin leave for it is a curtesye. "

CHAPTER V

FOOD FROM FOREST AND SEA

Though all the early explorers and travellers came to America eager tofind precious and useful metals, they did not discover wealth andprosperity underground in mines, but on the top of the earth, in thewoods and fields. To the forests they turned for food, and they did notturn in vain. Deer were plentiful everywhere, and venison was offered bythe Indians to the first who landed from the ships. Some families livedwholly on venison for nine months of the year. In Virginia were vastnumbers of red and fallow deer, the latter like those of England, exceptin the smaller number of branches of the antlers. They were so devoid offear as to remain undisturbed by the approach of men; a writer of thatday says: "Hard by the Fort two hundred in one herd have been usuallyobserved. " They were destroyed ruthlessly by a system of fire-hunting, in which tracts of forests were burned over, by starting a continuouscircle of fire miles around, which burnt in toward the centre of thecircle; thus the deer were driven into the middle, and hundreds werekilled. This miserable, wholesale slaughter was not for venison, but forthe sake of the hides, which were very valuable. They were used to makethe durable and suitable buckskin breeches and jackets so much worn bythe settlers; and they were also exported to Europe in large numbers. Atax was placed on hides for the support of the beloved William and MaryCollege. 

In Georgia, in 1735, the Indians sold a deer for sixpence. Deer werejust as abundant in the more Northern colonies. At Albany a stag wassold readily by the Indians for a jack-knife or a few iron nails. Thedeer in winter came and fed from the hog-pens of Albany swine. Even in1695, a quarter of venison could be bought in New York City forninepence. At the first Massachusetts Thanksgiving, in 1621, the Indiansbrought in five deer to the colonists for their feast. That year therewas also "great store of wild turkies. " These beautiful birds of goldand purple bronze were at first plentiful everywhere, and were of greatweight, far larger than our domestic turkeys to-day. They came in flocksof a hundred, Evelyn says of three hundred on the Chesapeake, and theyweighed thirty or forty pounds each: Josselyn says he saw one weighingsixty pounds. William Penn wrote that turkeys weighing thirty poundsapiece sold in his day and colony for a shilling only. They were shycreatures and fled inland from the white man, and by 1690 were rarelyshot near the coast of New England, though in Georgia, in 1733, theywere plentiful enough and cheap enough to sell for fourpence apiece. Flights of pigeons darkened the sky, and broke down the limbs of treeson which they lighted. From Maine to Virginia these vast flocks wereseen. Some years pigeons were so plentiful that they were sold for apenny a dozen in Boston. Pheasant, partridge, woodcock, and quailabounded, plover, snipe, and curlew were in the marsh-woods; in fact, inVirginia every bird familiar to Englishmen at home was found savepeacock and domestic fowl. 

Wild hare and squirrels were so many that they became pests, and so muchgrain was eaten by them that bounties were paid in many towns for theheads of squirrels. County treasuries were exhausted by these premiums. The Swedish traveller, Kalm, said that in Pennsylvania in one year, 1749, £8000 was paid out for heads of black and gray squirrels, atthreepence a head, which would show that over six hundred thousand werekilled. 

From the woods came a sweet food-store, one specially grateful whensugar was so scarce and so high-priced, --wild honey, which the colonistseagerly gathered everywhere from hollow tree-trunks. Curiously enough, the traveller, Kalm, insisted that bees were not native in America, butwere brought over by the English; that the Indians had no name for themand called them English flies. 

Governor Berkeley of Virginia, writing in 1706, called the maple thesugar-tree; he said:--

 "The Sugar-Tree yields a kind of Sap or Juice which by boiling is made into Sugar. This Juice is drawn out, by wounding the Trunk of the Tree, and placing a Receiver under the Wound. It is said that the Indians make one Pound of Sugar out of eight Pounds of the Liquor. It is bright and moist with a full large Grain, the Sweetness of it being like that of good Muscovada. "

The sugar-making season was ever hailed with delight by the boys of thehousehold in colonial days, who found in this work in the woods awonderful outlet for the love of wild life which was strong in them. Ithad in truth a touch of going a-gypsying, if any work as hard assugaring-off could have anything common with gypsy life. The maple-treeswere tapped as soon as the sap began to run in the trunk and showed atthe end of the twigs; this was in late winter if mild, or in theearliest spring. A notch was cut in the trunk of the tree at aconvenient height from the ground, usually four or five feet, and therunning sap was guided by setting in the notch a semicircular basswoodspout cut and set with a special tool called a tapping-gauge. In earlierdays the trees were "boxed, " that is, a great gash cut across the sideand scooped out and down to gather the sap. This often proved fatal tothe trees, and was abandoned. A trough, usually made of a butternut logabout three feet long, was dug out, Indian fashion, and placed under theend of the spout. These troughs were made deep enough to hold about tenquarts. In later years a hole was bored in the tree with an augur; andsap-buckets were used instead of troughs. 

Sometimes these troughs were left in distant sugar-camps from year toyear, turned bottom side up, through the summer and winter. It was morethrifty and tidy, however, to carry them home and store them. When thiswas done, the men and boys began work by drawing the troughs and spoutsand provisions to the woods on hand-sleds. Sometimes a mighty man tookin a load on his back. It is told of John Alexander of Brattleboro, Vermont, that he once went into camp _upon snowshoes_ carrying for threemiles one five-pail iron kettle, two sap-buckets, an axe and trappings, a knapsack, four days' provisions, and a gun and ammunition. 

The master of ceremonies--the owner of the camp--selected the trees anddrove the spouts, while the boys placed the troughs. Then the snow hadto be shovelled away on a level spot about eighteen or twenty feetsquare, in which strong forked sticks were set twelve feet apart. Or theground was chosen so that two small low-spreading and strong trees couldbe trimmed and used as forks. A heavy green stick was placed across fromfork to fork, and the sugaring-off kettles, sometimes five in number, hung on it. Then dry wood had to be gathered for the fires; hard work itwas to keep them constantly supplied. It was often cut a year inadvance. As the sap collected in the troughs it was gathered in pails orbuckets which, hung on a sap-yoke across the neck, were brought to thekettles and the sap set a-boiling down. When there was a "good run ofsap, " it was usually necessary to stay in the camp over night. Manytimes the campers stayed several nights. As the "good run" meant milderweather, a night or two was not a bitter experience; indeed, I havenever heard any one speak nor seen any account of a night spent in asugar-camp except with keen expressions of delight. If possible, thetime was chosen during a term of moonlight; the snow still covered thefields and its pure shining white light could be seen through the trees. 

 "God makes sech nights, so white and still Fer's you can look and listen. Moonlight an' snow, on field and hill, All silence and all glisten. "

The great silence, broken only by steady dropping of the sap, thecrackle of blazing brush, and the occasional hooting of startled owls;the stars seen singly overhead through the openings of the trees, shining down the dark tunnel as bright as though there were no moon;above all, the clearness and sweetness of the first atmosphere ofspring, --gave an exaltation of the senses and spirit which the countryboy felt without understanding, and indeed without any formulatedconsciousness. 

If the camp were near enough to any group of farmhouses to havevisitors, the last afternoon and evening in camp was made a countryfrolic. Great sled-loads of girls came out to taste the new sugar, todrop it into the snow to candy, and to have an evening of fun. 

Long ere the full riches of the forests were tested the colonists turnedto another food-supply, --the treasures of the sea. 

The early voyagers and colonists came to the coasts of the New World tofind gold and furs. The gold was not found by them nor their children'schildren in the land which is now the United States, till over twocenturies had passed from the time of the settlement, and the gold-minesof California were opened. The furs were at first found and profitablygathered, but the timid fur-bearing animals were soon exterminated nearthe settlements. There was, however, a vast wealth ready for thecolonists on the coast of the New World which was greater than gold, greater than furs; a wealth ever-obtainable, ever-replenished, ever-useful, ever-salable; it was _fish_. The sea, the rivers, thelakes, teemed with fish. Not only was there food for the settlers, butfor the whole world, and all Europe desired fish to eat. The ships ofthe early discoverer, Gosnold, in 1602, were "pestered with cod. "Captain John Smith, the acute explorer, famous in history as befriendedby Pocahontas, went to New England, in 1614, to seek for whale, andinstead he fished for cod. He secured sixty thousand in one month; andhe wrote to his countrymen, "Let not the meanness of the word _fish_distaste you, for it will afford as good gold as the mines of Guiana orPotosi, with less hazard and charge, and more certainty and facility. "This promise of wealth has proved true a thousandfold. Smith wrote hometo England full accounts of the fisheries, of the proper equipment of afishing-vessel, of the methods of fishing, the profits, all in a mostenticing and familiar style. He said in his _Description of NewEngland_:--

 "What pleasure can be more than to recreate themselves before their owne doores in their owne boates, upon the Sea, where man, woman, and childe, with a small hooke and line by angling, may take diverse sorts of excellent fish, at their pleasure? And is it not pretty sport to pull up twopence, sixpence, or twelvepence, as fast as you can hale and veare a line? If a man worke but three days in seaven hee may get more than hee can spend unless hee will be excessive. 

 "Young boyes and girles, salvages, or any other, be they never such idlers may turne, carry, and returne fish without shame or either great pain: hee is very idle that is past twelve years of age and cannot doe so much: and shee is very old that cannot spin a thread to catch them. "

His accounts and similar ones were so much read in England that when thePuritans asked King James of England for permission to come to America, and the king asked what profit would be found by their emigration, hewas at once answered, "Fishing. " Whereupon he said in turn, "In truth'tis an honest trade; 'twas the apostles' own calling. " Yet in spite oftheir intent to fish, the first English ships came but poorly providedfor fishing, and the settlers had little success at first even ingetting fish for their own food. Elder Brewster of Plymouth, who hadbeen a courtier in Queen Elizabeth's time, and had seen and eaten manyrich feasts, had nothing to eat at one time but clams. Yet he could givethanks to God that he was "permitted to suck of the abundance of theseas and the treasures hid in the sand. " The Indian Squanto showed thePilgrims many practical methods of fishing, among them one of treadingout eels from the brook with his feet and catching them with his hands. And every ship brought in either cod-hooks and lines, mackerel-hooks andlines, herring-nets, seines, shark-hooks, bass-nets, squid-lines, eel-pots, coils of rope and cable, "drails, barbels, pens, gaffs, " ormussel-hooks. 

Josselyn, in his _New England's Rarities_, written in 1672, enumeratedover two hundred kinds of fish that were caught in New England waters. 

Lobsters certainly were plentiful enough to prevent starvation. Theminister Higginson, writing of lobsters at Salem, said that many of themweighed twenty-five pounds apiece, and that "the least boy in theplantation may catch and eat what he will of them. " In 1623, when theship _Anne_ arrived from England, bringing many of the wives andchildren of the Pilgrims who had come in the first ships, the onlyfeast of welcome that the poor husbands had to offer the newcomers was"a lobster or a piece of fish without bread or anything else but a cupof spring water. "

Patriarchal lobsters five and six feet long were caught in New York Bay. The traveller, Van der Donck, says "those a foot long are better forserving at table. " Truly a lobster six feet long would seem a littleawkward to serve on a dinner table. Eddis, in his _Letters fromAmerica_, written in 1792, says these vast lobsters were caught in NewYork waters until Revolutionary days, when "since the incessantcannonading, they have entirely forsaken the coast; not one having beentaken or seen since the commencement of hostilities. " Beside these greatshell-fish the giant lobster confined in our New York Aquarium in 1897seems but a dwarf. In Virginia waters lobsters were caught, and vastcrabs, often a foot in length and six inches broad, with a long tail andmany legs. One of these crabs furnished a sufficient meal for four men. 

From the gossiping pages of the Labadist missionaries who came toAmerica in 1697 we find hints of good fare in oysters in Brooklyn. 

 "Then was thrown upon the fire, to be roasted, a pail full of Gowanes oysters which are the best in the country. They are fully as good as those of England, better than those we eat at Falmouth. I had to try some of them raw. They are large and full, some of them not less than a foot long. Others are young and small. In consequence of the great quantities of them everybody keeps the shells for the burning of lime. They pickle the oysters in small casks and send them to Barbados. "

Van der Donck corroborates the foot-long oysters seen by the Labadisttravellers. He says the "large oysters roasted or stewed make a goodbite, "--a very good bite, it would seem to us. 

Strachey, in his _Historie of Travaile into Virginia_, says he sawoysters in Virginia that were thirteen inches long. Fortunately for thestarving Virginians, oyster banks rose above the surface at ebb-tide atthe mouth of the Elizabeth River, and in 1609 a large number of thesefamished Virginia colonists found in these oyster banks a means ofpreservation of life. 

As might be expected of any country so intersected with arms of the seaand fresh-water streams, Virginia at the time of settlement teemed withfish. The Indians killed them in the brooks by striking them withsticks, and it is said the colonists scooped them up in frying-pans. Horses ridden into the rivers stepped on the fish and killed them. Inone cast of a seine the governor, Sir Thomas Dale, caught five thousandsturgeon as large as cod. Some sturgeon were twelve feet long. The worksof Captain John Smith, Rolfe's _Relation_, and other books of earlytravellers, all tell of the enormous amount of fish in Virginia. 

The New York rivers were also full of fish, and the bays; their plentyin New Netherland inspired the first poet of that colony to rhymingenumeration of the various kinds of fish found there; among them weresturgeon--beloved of the Indians and despised of Christians; andterrapin--not despised by any one. "Some persons, " wrote the Dutchtraveller, Van der Donck, in 1656, "prepare delicious dishes from thewater terrapin, which is luscious food. " The Middle and Southern statespaid equally warm but more tardy tribute to the terrapin's reputation asluscious food. 

While other fish were used everywhere for food, cod was the great stapleof the fishing industry. By the year 1633 Dorchester and Marblehead hadstarted in the fisheries for trading purposes. Sturgeon also was caughtat a little later date, and bass and alewives. 

Morton, in his _New England Canaan_, written in 1636, says, "I myself atthe turning of the tyde have seen such multitudes of sea bass that itseemed to me that one might goe over their backs dri-shod. "

The regulation of fish-weirs soon became an important matter in alltowns where streams let alewives up from the sea. The New Englandministers took a hand in promoting and encouraging the fisheries, asthey did all positive social movements and commercial benefits. Rev. Hugh Peter in Salem gave the fisheries a specially good turn. Fishermenwere excused from military training, and portions of the common stock ofcorn were assigned to them. The General Court of Massachusetts exempted"vessels and stock" from "country charges" (which were taxes) for sevenyears. Seashore towns assigned free lands to each boat to be used forstays and flakes for drying. As early as 1640 three hundred thousanddried codfish were sent to market from New England. 

Codfish consisted of three sorts, "marchantable, middling, and refuse. "The first grade was sold chiefly to Roman Catholic Europe, to supply theconstant demands of the fast-days of that religion, and also those ofthe Church of England; the second was consumed at home or in themerchant vessels of New England; the third went to the negroes of theWest Indies, and was often called Jamaica fish. The dun-fish ordumb-fish, as the word was sometimes written, were the best; so calledfrom the dun-color. Fish was always eaten in New England for a Saturdaydinner; and Mr. Palfrey, the historian, says that until this century noNew England dinner on Saturday, even a formal dinner party, was completewithout dun-fish being served. 

Of course the first fishing-vessels had to be built and sent fromEngland. Some carried fifty men. They arrived on the coast in earlyspring, and by midsummer sailed home. The crew had for wages one-thirdshare of the fish and oil; another third paid for the men's food, thesalt, nets, hooks, lines, etc. ; the other third went to the ship'sowners for profit. 

This system was not carried out in New England. There, each fishermanworked on "his own hook"--and it was literally his own hook; for a tallywas kept of the fish caught by each man, and the proceeds of the tripwere divided in proportion to the number of fish each caught. When therewas a big run of fish, the men never stopped to eat or sleep, but whenfood was held to them gnawed it off while their hands were employed withthe fish-lines. With every fishing-vessel that left Gloucester andMarblehead, the chief centres of the fishing industries, went a boy often or twelve to learn to be a skilled fisherman. He was called a"cut-tail, " for he cut a wedge-shaped bit from the tail of every fish hecaught, and when the fish were sorted out the cut-tails showed the boy'sshare of the profit. 

For centuries, fish was plentiful and cheap in New England. Thetraveller Bennet wrote of Boston, in 1740:--

 "Fish is exceedingly cheap. They sell a fine cod, will weigh a dozen pounds or more, just taken out of the sea for about twopence sterling. They have smelts, too, which they sell as cheap as sprats in London. Salmon, too, they have in great plenty, and these they sell for about a shilling apiece which will weigh fourteen or fifteen pounds. "

Two kinds of delicious fish, beloved, perhaps, above all othersto-day, --salmon and shad, --seem to have been lightly regarded incolonial days. The price of salmon--less than a penny a pound--shows thelow estimation in which it was held in the early years of the eighteenthcentury. It is told that farm-laborers in the vicinity of theConnecticut River when engaged to work stipulated that they should havesalmon for dinner but once a week. 

Shad were profoundly despised; it was even held to be somewhatdisreputable to eat them; and the story is told of a family in Hadley, Massachusetts, who were about to dine on shad, that, hearing a knock atthe door, they would not open it till the platter holding the obnoxiousshad had been hidden. At first they were fed chiefly to hogs. Two shadfor a penny was the ignoble price in 1733, and it was never much higheruntil after the Revolution. After shad and salmon acquired a betterreputation as food, the falls of various rivers became great resorts forAmerican fishermen as they had been for the Indians. Both kinds of fishwere caught in scoop-nets and seines below the falls. Men came from adistance and loaded horses and carts with the fish to carry home. Everyfarmhouse near was filled with visitors. It was estimated that at thefalls at South Hadley there were fifteen hundred horses in one day. 

Salted fish was as carefully prepared and amiably regarded for home usein New England and New York as in England and Holland at the same date. The ling and herring of the old countries of Europe gave place inAmerica to cod, shad, and mackerel. The greatest pains was taken inpreparing, drying, and salting the plentiful fish. It is said that inNew York towns, such as New York and Brooklyn, after shad became apopular fish, great heaps were left when purchased at each door, andthat the necessary cleaning and preparation of the shad was done on thestreet. As all housewives purchased shad and salted and packed at aboutthe same time, those public scavengers, the domestic hogs who roamedthe town streets unchecked (and ever welcomed), must have been speciallyuseful at shad-time. 

Not in the waters, but of it, were the magnificent tribes of marine fowlthat, undiminished by the feeble weapons and few numbers of the Indians, had peopled for centuries the waters of the New World. The Chesapeakeand its tributaries furnished each autumn vast feeding-grounds of wildcelery and other aquatic plants to millions of those creatures. Thefirearms of Captain John Smith and his two companions were poor thingscompared with the fowling-pieces of to-day, but with their three shotsthey killed a hundred and forty-eight ducks at one firing. The splendidwild swan wheeled and trumpeted in the clear autumn air; the wild geeseflew there in their beautiful V-shaped flight; duck in all the varietiesknown to modern sportsmen--canvas-back, mallard, widgeon, redhead, oxeye, dottrel--rested on the Chesapeake waters in vast flocks a milewide and seven miles long. Governor Berkeley named also brant, shelldrake, teal, and blewings. The sound of their wings was said to be "likea great storm coming over the water. " For centuries these ducks havebeen killed by the white man, and still they return each autumn to theirold feeding-places. 

CHAPTER VI

INDIAN CORN

A great field of tall Indian corn waving its stately and luxuriant greenblades, its graceful spindles, and glossy silk under the hot August sun, should be not only a beautiful sight to every American, but a suggestiveone; one to set us thinking of all that Indian corn means to us in ourhistory. It was a native of American soil at the settlement of thiscountry, and under full and thoroughly intelligent cultivation by theIndians, who were also native sons of the New World. Its abundance, adaptability, and nourishing qualities not only saved the colonists'lives, but altered many of their methods of living, especially theirmanner of cooking and their tastes in food. 

One of the first things that every settler in a new land has to learn isthat he must find food in that land; that he cannot trust long to anysupplies of food which he has brought with him, or to any fresh supplieswhich he has ordered to be sent after him. He must turn at once tohunting, fishing, planting, to furnish him with food grown and found inthe very place where he is. 

This was quickly learned by the colonists in America, except inVirginia, where they had sad starving-times before all were convincedthat corn was a better crop for settlers than silk or any of the manyhoped-for productions which might be valuable in one sense but whichcould not be eaten. Powhatan, the father of the Indian princessPocahontas, was one of the first to "send some of his People that theymay teach the English how to sow the Grain of his Country. " Captain JohnSmith, ever quick to learn of every one and ever practical, got twoIndians, in the year 1608, to show him how to break up and plant fortyacres of corn, which yielded him a good crop. A succeeding governor ofVirginia, Sir Thomas Dale, equally practical, intelligent, anddetermined, assigned small farms to each colonist, and encouraged andenforced the growing of corn. Soon many thousand bushels were raised. There was a terrible Indian massacre in 1622, for the carelesscolonists, in order to be free to give their time to the raising of thatnew and exceedingly alluring and high-priced crop, tobacco, had giventhe Indians firearms to go hunting game for them; and the lesson of easykilling with powder and shot, when once learned, was turned with havocupon the white men. The following year comparatively little corn wasplanted, as the luxuriant foliage made a perfect ambush for the closeapproach of the savages to the settlements. There was, of course, scarcity and famine as the result; and a bushel of corn-meal becameworth twenty to thirty shillings, which sum had a value equal to twentyto thirty dollars to-day. The planters were each compelled by themagistrates the following year to raise an ample amount of corn tosupply all the families; and to save a certain amount for seed as well. There has been no lack of corn since that time in Virginia. 

The French colonists in Louisiana, perhaps because they were accustomedto more dainty food than the English, fiercely hated corn, as have theIrish in our own day. A band of French women settlers fairly raised a"petticoat rebellion" in revolt against its daily use. A despatch of thegovernor of Louisiana says of these rebels:--

 "The men in the colony begin through habit to use corn as an article of food; but the women, who are mostly Parisians, have for this food a dogged aversion, which has not been subdued. They inveigh bitterly against His Grace, the Bishop of Quebec, who, they say, has enticed them away from home under pretext of sending them to enjoy the milk and honey of the land of promise. "

This hatred of corn was shared by other races. An old writer says:--

 "Peter Martyr could magnifie the Spaniards, of whom he reports they led a miserable life for three days together, with parched grain of maize onlie"--

which, when compared with the diet of New England settlers for weeks ata time, seems such a bagatelle as to be scarce worth the mention ofPeter Martyr. By tradition, still commemorated at Forefathers' Dinners, the ration of Indian corn supplied to each person in the colony in timeof famine was but five kernels. 

The stores brought over by the Pilgrims were poor and inadequate enough;the beef and pork were tainted, the fish rotten, the butter and cheesecorrupted. European wheat and seeds did not mature well. Soon, asBradford says in his now famous _Log-Book_, in his picturesque andforcible English, "the grim and grizzled face of starvation stared" atthem. The readiest supply to replenish the scanty larder was fish, butthe English made surprisingly bungling work over fishing, and soon themost unfailing and valuable supply was the native Indian corn, or"Guinny wheat, " or "Turkie wheat, " as it was called by the colonists. 

Famine and pestilence had left eastern Massachusetts comparatively bareof inhabitants at the time of the settlement of Plymouth; and the vacantcornfields of the dead Indian cultivators were taken and planted by theweak and emaciated Plymouth men, who never could have cleared newfields. From the teeming sea, in the April run of fish, was found theneeded fertilizer. Says Governor Bradford:--

 "In April of the first year they began to plant their corne, in which service Squanto stood them in great stead, showing them both ye manner how to set it, and after, how to dress and tend it. "

From this planting sprang not only the most useful food, but the firstand most pregnant industry of the colonists. 

The first fields and crops were communal, and the result was disastrous. The third year, at the sight of the paralyzed settlement, GovernorBradford wisely decided, as did Governor Dale of Virginia, that "theyshould set corne every man for his owne particuler, furnishing a portionfor public officers, fishermen, etc. , who could not work, and in thatregard trust to themselves. " Thus personal energy succeeded to communalinertia; Bradford wrote that women and children cheerfully worked in thefields to raise corn which should be their very own. 

A field of corn on the coast of Massachusetts or Narragansett or by therivers of Virginia, growing long before any white man had ever been seenon these shores, was precisely like the same field planted three hundredyears later by our American farmers. There was the same planting inhills, the same number of stalks in the hill, with pumpkin-vines runningamong the hills, and beans climbing the stalks. The hills of the Indianswere a trifle nearer together than those of our own day are usually set, for the native soil was more fertile. 

The Indians taught the colonists much more than the planting and raisingof corn; they showed also how to grind the corn and cook it in manypalatable ways. The various foods which we use to-day made from Indiancorn are all cooked just as the Indians cooked them at the time of thesettlement of the country; and they are still called with Indian names, such as hominy, pone, suppawn, samp, succotash. 

The Indian method of preparing maize or corn was to steep or parboil itin hot water for twelve hours, then to pound the grain in a mortar or ahollowed stone in the field, till it was a coarse meal. It was thensifted in a rather closely woven basket, and the large grains which didnot pass through the sieve were again pounded and sifted. 

Samp was often pounded in olden times in a primitive and picturesqueIndian mortar made of a hollowed block of wood or a stump of a tree, which had been cut off about three feet from the ground. The pestle wasa heavy block of wood shaped like the inside of the mortar, and fittedwith a handle attached to one side. This block was fastened to the topof a young and slender tree, a growing sapling, which was bent over andthus gave a sort of spring which pulled the pestle up after beingpounded down on the corn. This was called a sweep and mortar mill. 

They could be heard at a long distance. Two New Hampshire pioneers madeclearings about a quarter of a mile apart and built houses. There was animpenetrable gully and thick woods between the cabins; and the blazedpath was a long distance around, so the wives of the settlers seldom saweach other or any other woman. It was a source of great comfort andcompanionship to them both that they could signal to each other everyday by pounding on their mortars. And they had an ingenious system ofcommunication which one spring morning summoned one to the home of theother, where she arrived in time to be the first to welcome fine twinbabies. 

After these simple stump and sapling mortars were abandoned elsewherethey were used on Long Island, and it was jestingly told that sailorsin a fog could always know on what shore they were, when they could hearthe pounding of the samp-mortars on Long Island. 

Rude hand-mills next were used, which were called quernes, or quarnes. Some are still in existence and known as samp-mills. Windmills followed, of which the Indians were much afraid, dreading "their long arms andgreat teeth biting the corn in pieces"; and thinking some evil spiritturned the arms. As soon as maize was plentiful, English mills forgrinding meal were started in many towns. There was a windmill atWatertown, Massachusetts, in 1631. In 1633 the first water-mill, atDorchester, was built, and in Ipswich a grist-mill was built in 1635. The mill built by Governor John Winthrop in New London is stillstanding. 

The first windmill erected in America was one built and set up byGovernor Yeardley in Virginia in 1621. By 1649 there were fivewater-mills, four windmills, and a great number of horse and hand millsin Virginia. Millers had one-sixth of the meal they ground for toll. 

Suppawn was another favorite of the settlers, and was an Indian dishmade from Indian corn; it was a thick corn-meal and milk porridge. Itwas soon seen on every Dutch table, for the Dutch were very fond of allfoods made from all kinds of grain; and it is spoken of by alltravellers in early New York, and in the Southern colonies. 

Samp and samp porridge were soon abundant dishes. Samp is Indian cornpounded to a coarsely ground powder. Roger Williams wrote of it:--

 "Nawsamp is a kind of meal pottage unparched. From this the English call their samp, which is the Indian corn beaten and boiled and eaten hot or cold with milk and butter, and is a diet exceedingly wholesome for English bodies. "

The Swedish scientist, Professor Kalm, told that the Indians gave him"fresh maize-bread, baked in an oblong shape, mixed with driedhuckleberries, which lay as close in it as raisins in a plum pudding. "

Roger Williams said that sukquttahhash was "corn seethed like beans. "Our word "succotash" we now apply to corn cooked with beans. Pones werethe red men's appones. 

The love of the Indians for "roasting ears" was quickly shared by thewhite man. In Virginia a series of plantings of corn were made from thefirst of April to the last of June, to afford a three months' successionof roasting ears. 

The traveller, Strachey, writing of the Indians in 1618, said: "Theylap their corn in rowles within the leaves of the come and so boyle ytfor a dayntie. " This method of cooking we have also retained to thepresent day. 

It seemed to me very curious to read in Governor Winthrop's journal, written in Boston about 1630, that when corn was "parched, " as he calledit, it turned inside out and was "white and floury within"; and to thinkthat then little English children were at that time learning whatpop-corn was, and how it looked when it was parched, or popped. 

Hasty pudding had been made in England of wheat-flour or oatmeal andmilk, and the name was given to boiled puddings of corn-meal and water. It was not a very suitable name, for corn-meal should never be cookedhastily, but requires long boiling or baking. The hard Indian puddingslightly sweetened and boiled in a bag was everywhere made. It was toldthat many New England families had three hundred and sixty-five suchpuddings in a year. 

The virtues of "jonny-cake" have been loudly sung in the interestingpages of _Shepherd Tom_. The way the corn should be carried to the mill, the manner in which it should be ground, the way in which the stonesshould revolve, and the kind of stones, receive minute description, asdoes the mixing and the baking, to the latter of which the middle boardof red oak from the head of a flour-barrel is indispensable as abakeboard, while the fire to bake with must be of walnut logs. Hastypudding, corn dumplings, and corn-meal porridge, so eminently good thatit was ever mentioned with respect in the plural, as "them porridge, "all are described with the exuberant joyousness of a happy, healthfulold age in remembrance of a happy, high-spirited, and healthful youth. 

The harvesting of the corn afforded one of the few scenes of gayety inthe lives of the colonists. A diary of one Ames, of Dedham, Massachusetts, in the year 1767, thus describes a corn-husking, and mostungallantly says naught of the red ear and attendant osculation:--

 "Made a husking Entertainm't. Possibly this leafe may last a Century and fall into the hands of some inquisitive Person for whose Entertainm't I will inform him that now there is a Custom amongst us of making an Entertainm't at husking of Indian Corn whereto all the neighboring Swains are invited and after the Corn is finished they like the Hottentots give three Cheers or huzza's but cannot carry in the husks without a Rhum bottle; they feign great Exertion but do nothing till Rhum enlivens them, when all is done in a trice, then after a hearty Meal about 10 at Night they go to their pastimes. "

There was one way of eating corn which was spoken of by all the earlywriters and travellers which we should not be very well satisfied withnow, but it shows us how useful and necessary corn was at that time, andhow much all depended on it. This preparation of corn was called nocakeor nookick. An old writer named Wood thus defined it:--

 "It is Indian corn parched in the hot ashes, the ashes being sifted from it; it is afterwards beaten to powder and put into a long leatherne bag trussed at the Indian's backe like a knapsacke, out of which they take three spoonsful a day. "

It was held to be the most nourishing food known, and in the smallestand most condensed form. Both Indians and white men usually carried itin a pouch when they went on long journeys, and mixed it with snow inthe winter and water in summer. Gookin says it was sweet, toothsome, andhearty. With only this nourishment the Indians could carry loads "fitterfor elephants than men. " Roger Williams says a spoonful of this meal andwater made him many a good meal. When we read this we are not surprisedthat the Pilgrims could keep alive on what is said was at one time offamine their food for a day, --five kernels of corn apiece. The apostleEliot, in his Indian Bible, always used the word nookick for the Englishwords flour or meal. 

We ought to think of the value of food in those days; and we may be surethe governor and his council thought corn of value when they took it fortaxes and made it a legal currency just like gold and silver, andforbade any one to feed it to pigs. If you happen to see the price ofcorn during those years down to Revolutionary times, you will, perhaps, be surprised to see how much the price varied. From ten shillings abushel in 1631, to two shillings in 1672, to twenty in 1747, to two in1751, and one hundred shillings at the opening of the Revolution. Inthese prices of corn, as in the price of all other articles at thistime, the difference was in the money, which had a constantly changingvalue, not in the article itself or its usefulness. The corn had asteady value, it always furnished just so much food; and really was astandard itself rather than measured and valued by the poor and shiftingmoney. 

There are many other interesting facts connected with the early cultureof corn: of the finding hidden in caves or "caches" in the ground theIndian's corn which he had stored for seed; of the sacred "corn-dances"of the Indians; that the first patent granted in England to an Americanwas to a Philadelphia woman for a mill to grind a kind of hominy; ofthe great profit to the colonists in corn-raising, for the careless andgreedy Indians always ate up all their corn as soon as possible, thenhad to go out and trap beavers in the woods to sell the skins to thecolonists for corn to keep them from starving. One colonist plantedabout eight bushels of seed-corn. He raised from this eight hundred andsixty-four bushels of corn, which he sold to the Indians for beaverskins which gave him a profit of £327. 

Many games were played with the aid of kernels of corn: fox and geese, checkers, "hull gull, how many, " and games in which the corn served ascounters. 

The ears of corn were often piled into the attic until the floor was afoot deep with them. I once entered an ell bedroom in a Massachusettsfarmhouse where the walls, rafters, and four-post bedstead were hungsolid with ears of yellow corn, which truly "made a sunshine in a shadyplace. "

Some of the preparation of corn fell upon the boys; it was their regularwork all winter in the evening firelight to shell corn from the ears byscraping them on the iron edge of the wooden shovel or on the fire-peel. My father told me that even in his childhood in the first quarter ofthis century many families of moderate means fastened the long-handledfrying-pan across a tub and drew the corn ears across the sharp edge ofthe handle of the pan. I note in Peter Parley's reminiscences of hischildhood a similar use of a frying-pan handle in his home. Otherfarmers set the edge of a knife blade in a piece of wood and scraped onthe back of the blade. In some households the corn was pounded intohominy in wooden mortars. An old corn-sheller used in westernMassachusetts is here shown. 

When the corn was shelled, the cobs were not carelessly discarded ordisregarded. They were stored often in a lean-to or loft in the kitchenell; from thence they were brought down in skepes or boxes about abushel at a time; and after being used by the children as playthings tobuild "cob-houses, " were employed as light wood for the fire. They had aspecial use in many households for smoking hams; and their smoke wasdeemed to impart a specially delightful flavor to hams and bacon. 

One special use of corn should be noted. By order of the government ofMassachusetts Bay in 1623, it was used as ballots in public voting. Atannual elections of the governors' assistants in each town, a kernel ofcorn was deposited to signify a favorable vote upon the nominee, while abean signified a negative vote; "and if any free-man shall put in morethan one Indian corn or bean he shall forfeit for every such offence TenPounds. "

The choice of a national flower or plant is much talked about to-day. Aside from the beauty of maize when growing and its wonderfuladaptability in every part for decoration, would not the noble anduseful part played by Indian corn in our early history entitle it to beour first choice?

CHAPTER VII

MEAT AND DRINK

The food brought in ships from Europe to the colonists was naturallylimited by the imperfect methods of transportation which then existed. Nothing like refrigerators were known; no tinned foods were even thoughtof; ways of packing were very crude and careless; so the kinds ofprovisions which would stand the long voyage on a slow sailing-vesselwere very few. The settlers turned at once, as all settlers in a newland should, to the food-supplies found in the new home; of these thethree most important ones were corn, fish, and game. I have told oftheir plenty, their value, and their use. There were many otherbountiful and good foods, among them pumpkins or pompions, as they wereat first called. 

The pumpkin has sturdily kept its own place on the New England farm, varying in popularity and use, but always of value as easy of growth, easy of cooking, and easy to keep in a dried form. Yet the colonists didnot welcome the pumpkin with eagerness, even in times of great want. They were justly rebuked for their indifference and dislike by Johnsonin his _Wonder-working Providence_, who called the pumpkin "a fruitwhich the Lord fed his people with till corn and cattle increased"; andanother pumpkin-lover referred to "the times wherein old Pompion was asaint. " One colonial poet gives the golden vegetable this tribute:--

 "We have pumpkins at morning and pumpkins at noon, If it were not for pumpkins we should be undone. "

I am very sure were I living on dried corn and scant shell-fish, as thePilgrims were forced to do, I should have turned with delight to"pompion-sause" as a change of diet. Stewed pumpkins and pumpkin breadwere coarse ways of using the fruit for food. Pumpkin bread--made ofhalf Indian meal--was not very pleasing in appearance. A traveller in1704 called it an "awkward food. " It is eaten in Connecticut to thisday. The Indians dried pumpkins and strung them for winter use, and thecolonists followed the Indian custom. 

In Virginia pumpkins were equally plentiful and useful. Ralph Hamor, inhis _True Discourse_, says they grew in such abundance that a hundredwere often observed to spring from one seed. The Virginia Indians boiledbeans, peas, corn, and pumpkins together, and the colonists liked thedish. In the trying times at "James-Citty, " the plentiful pumpkinsplayed a great part in providing food-supplies for the starvingVirginians. 

Squashes were also native vegetables. The name is Indian. To show thewonderful and varied way in which the English spelt Indian names let metell you that Roger Williams called them askutasquashes; the Puritanminister Higginson, squantersquashes; the traveller Josselyn, squontorsquashes, and the historian Wood, isquoukersquashes. 

Potatoes were known to New Englanders, but were rare and when referredto were probably sweet potatoes. It was a long time before they weremuch liked. A farmer at Hadley, Massachusetts, had what he thought avery large crop in 1763--it was eight bushels. It was believed by manypersons that if a man ate them every day, he could not live seven years. In the spring all that were left on hand were carefully burned, for manybelieved that if cattle or horses ate these potatoes they would die. They were first called, when carried to England, Virginia potatoes; thenthey became much liked and grown in Ireland; then the Irish settlers inNew Hampshire brought them back to this continent, and now they arecalled, very senselessly, Irish potatoes. Many persons fancied the ballswere what should be eaten, and said they "did not much desire them. " Afashionable way of cooking them was with butter, sugar, and grape-juice;this was mixed with dates, lemons, and mace; seasoned with cinnamon, nutmeg, and pepper; then covered with a frosting of sugar--and you hadto hunt well to find the potato among all these other things. 

In the Carolinas the change in English diet was effected by the sweetpotato. This root was cooked in various ways: it was roasted in theashes, boiled, made into puddings, used as a substitute for bread, madeinto pancakes which a foreigner said tasted as though composed of sweetalmonds; and in every way it was liked and was so plentiful that eventhe slaves fed upon it. 

Beans were abundant, and were baked by the Indians in earthen pots justas we bake them to-day. The settlers planted peas, parsnips, turnips, and carrots, which grew and thrived. Huckleberries, blackberries, strawberries, and grapes grew wild. Apple-trees were planted at once, and grew well in New England and the Middle states. Twenty years afterthe Roman Catholic settlement of Maryland the fruitful orchards wereconspicuously flourishing. 

Johnson, writing in 1634, said that all then in New England could haveapple, pear, and quince tarts instead of pumpkin-pies. They madeapple-slump, apple-mose, apple-crowdy, apple-tarts, mess apple-pies, andpuff apple-pies. The Swedish parson, Dr. Acrelius, writing home in 1758an account of the settlement of Delaware, said:--

 "Apple-pie is used through the whole year, and when fresh apples are no longer to be had, dried ones are used. It is the evening meal of children. House-pie, in country places, is made of apples neither peeled nor freed from their cores, and its crust is not broken if a wagon wheel goes over it. "

The making of a portion of the autumn's crop of apples into driedapples, apple-sauce, and apple-butter for winter was preceded in manycountry homes by an apple-paring. The cheerful kitchen of a farmhousewas set with an array of empty pans, tubs, and baskets; of sharp knivesand heaped-up barrels of apples. A circle of laughing faces completedthe scene, and the barrels of apples were quickly emptied by the manyskilful hands. The apples intended for drying were strung on linenthread and hung on the kitchen and attic rafters. The following day thestout crane in the open fireplace was hung with brass kettles which werefilled with the pared apples, sweet and sour in proper proportions, thesour at the bottom since they required more time to cook. If quincescould be had, they were added to give flavor, and molasses, orboiled-down pungent "apple-molasses, " was added for sweetening. As therewas danger that the sauce would burn over the roaring logs, manyhousewives placed clean straw at the bottom of the kettle to keep theapples from the fiercest heat. Days were spent in preparing the winter'sstock of apple-sauce, but when done and placed in barrels in the cellar, it was always ready for use, and when slightly frozen was a keen relish. Apple-butter was made of the pared apples boiled down with cider. 

Wheat did not at first ripen well, so white bread was for a time rarelyeaten. Rye grew better, so bread made of "rye-an'-injun, " which was halfrye-meal, half corn-meal, was used instead. Bake-shops were so many innumber in all the towns that it is evident that housewives in towns andvillages did not make bread in every home as to-day, but bought it atthe baker's. 

At the time when America was settled, no European peoples drank water aswe do to-day, for a constant beverage. The English drank ale, the Dutchbeer, the French and Spanish light wines, for every-day use. Hence itseemed to the colonists a great trial and even a very dangerousexperiment to drink water in the New World. They were forced to do it, however, in many cases; and to their surprise found that it agreed withthem very well, and that their health improved. Governor Winthrop ofMassachusetts, who was a most sensible and thoughtful man, soon hadwater used as a constant drink by all in his household. 

As cows increased in number and were cared for, milk of course was addedto the every-day fare. Rev. Mr. Higginson wrote in 1630 that milk costin Salem but a penny a quart; while another minister, John Cotton, saidthat milk and ministers were the only things cheap in New England. Atthat time milk cost but a penny and a quarter a quart in old England. 

Milk became a very important part of the food of families in theeighteenth century. In 1728 a discussion took place in the Bostonnewspapers as to the expense of keeping a family "of middling figure. "These writers all named only bread and milk for breakfast and supper. Ten years later a minister, calculating the expenses of his family, setdown bread and milk for both breakfast and supper. Milk and hastypudding, milk and stewed pumpkin, milk and baked apples, milk andberries, were variations. In winter, when milk was scarce, sweetenedcider diluted with water was used instead. Sometimes bread was soakedwith this mixture. It is said that children were usually very fond ofit. 

As comparatively few New England families in the seventeenth centuryowned churns, I cannot think that many made butter; of course familiesof wealth ate it, but it was not common as to-day. In the inventories ofthe property of the early settlers of Maine there is but one churnnamed. Butter was worth from threepence to sixpence a pound. As cattleincreased the duties of the dairy grew, and soon were never-ceasing andever-tiring. The care of cream and making of butter was in theeighteenth century the duty of every good wife and dame in the country, and usually in the town. 

Though the shape and ease of action of churns varied, stillbutter-making itself varied little from the same work to-day. Severalold-time churns are shown, the revolving one being the most unusual. 

Cheese was plentiful and good in all the Northern colonies. It was alsoan unending care from the time the milk was set over the fire to warmand then to curdle; through the breaking of the curds in thecheese-basket; through shaping into cheeses and pressing in thecheese-press, placing them on the cheese-ladders, and constantly turningand rubbing them. An old cheese-press, cheese-ladder, and cheese-basketfrom Deerfield Memorial Hall are shown in the illustration. 

In all households, even in those of great wealth and many servants, assistance was given in all housewifery by the daughters of thehousehold. In the South it was chiefly by superintendence and teachingthrough actual exposition the negro slaves; in the North it was by thecareful performance of the work. 

The manuscript cooking receipt-book of many an ancient dame shows thegreat care they took in family cooking. English methods of cooking atthe time of the settlement of this country were very complicated andvery laborious. 

It was a day of hashes, ragouts, soups, hotch-pots, etc. There were nogreat joints served until the time of Charles the First. In almost everysixteenth-century receipt for cooking meat, appear some such directionsas these: "Y-mynce it, smyte them on gobbets, hew them on gobbets, chopon gobbets, hew small, dyce them, skern them to dyce, kerf it to dyce, grind all to dust, smyte on peces, parcel-hem; hew small on morselyen, hack them small, cut them on culpons. " Great amounts of spices wereused, even perfumes; and as there was no preservation of meat by ice, perhaps the spices and perfumes were necessary. 

Of course the colonists were forced to adopt simpler ways of cooking, but as towns and commerce increased there were many kitchen duties whichmade much tedious work. Many pickles, spiced fruits, preserves, candiedfruits and flowers, and marmalades were made. 

Preserving was a very different art from canning fruit to-day. Therewere no hermetically sealed jars, no chemical methods, no quick workabout it. Vast jars were filled with preserves so rich that there was noneed of keeping the air from them; they could be opened, that is, thepaper cover taken off, and used as desired; there was no fear offermentation, souring, or moulding. 

The housewives pickled samphire, fennel, purple cabbage, nasturtium-buds, green walnuts, lemons, radish-pods, barberries, elder-buds, parsley, mushrooms, asparagus, and many kinds of fish andfruit. They candied fruits and nuts, made many marmalades andquiddonies, and a vast number of fruit wines and cordials. Even theircakes, pies, and puddings were most complicated, and humble householdswere lavish in the various kinds they manufactured and ate. 

They collared and potted many kinds of fish and game, and they saltedand soused. Salted meat was eaten, and very little fresh meat; for therewere no means of keeping meat after it was killed. Every well-to-dofamily had a "powdering-tub, " in which meat was "powdered, " that is, salted and pickled. Many families had a smoke-house, in which beef, ham, and bacon were smoked. 

Perhaps the busiest month of the year was November, --called "killingtime. " When the chosen day arrived, oxen, cows, and swine which had beenfattened for the winter's stock were slaughtered early in the morning, that the meat might be hard and cold before being put in the pickle. Sausages, rolliches, and head-cheese were made, lard tried out, andtallow saved. 

A curious and quaint domestic implement or utensil found hanging on thewalls of some kitchens was what was known as a sausage-gun. One here isshown with the piston detached, and also ready for use. The sausage-meatwas forced out through the nozzle into the sausage-cases. A simpler formof sausage-stuffer has also been seen, much like a tube-and-pistongarden-syringe; though I must add a suspicion which has always lingeredin my mind that the latter utensil was really a syringe-gun, such asonce was used to disable humming-birds by squirting water upon them. 

Sausage-meat was thus prepared in New York farmhouses. The meat was cutcoarsely into half-inch pieces and thrown into wooden boxes about threefeet long and ten inches deep. Then its first chopping was by men usingspades which had been ground to a sharp edge. 

There were many families that found all their supply of sweetening inmaple sugar and honey; but housewives of dignity and elegance desired tohave some supply of sugar, certainly to offer visitors for their dish oftea. This sugar was always loaf-sugar, and truly loaf-sugar; for it waspurchased ever in great loaves or cones which averaged in weight aboutnine to ten pounds apiece. One cone would last thrifty folk for a year. This pure clear sugar-cone always came wrapped in a deep blue-purplepaper, of such unusual and beautiful tint and so color-laden that incountry homes it was carefully saved and soaked, to supply a dye for asmall amount of the finest wool, which was used when spun and dyed forsome specially choice purpose. The cutting of this cone of sugar intolumps of equal size and regular shape was distinctly the work of themistress and daughters of the house. It was too exact and too dainty apiece of work to be intrusted to clumsy or wasteful servants. Varioussimply shaped sugar-shears or sugar-cutters were used. An ordinary formis shown in the illustration. I well recall the only family in which Iever saw this solemn function of sugar-cutting take place--it was aboutthirty years ago. An old Boston East India merchant, one of the last tocling to a residence in what is known now as the "Burnt District, "always desired (and his desire was law) to use these loaves of sugar inhis household. I don't know where he got them so long after every oneelse had apparently ceased buying them--he may have specially importedthem; at any rate he had them, and to the end of her life it was themorning duty of his wife "to cut the sugar. " I can see my old cousinstill in what she termed her breakfast room, dressed very handsomely, standing before a bare mahogany table on which a maid placed theconsiderable array of a silver salver without legs, which was set on afolded cloth and held the sugar-loaf and the sugar-cutter; and anothersalver with legs that bore various bowls and one beautiful silversugar-box which was kept filled high for her husband's toddy. It seemedan interminably tedious work to me and a senseless one, as I chafinglywaited for the delightful morning drive in delightful Boston. It was inthis household that I encountered the sweetest thing of my whole life; Ihave written elsewhere its praises in full; a barrel, a small one, to besure, but still a whole teak-wood barrel full of long strings ofglistening rock-candy. I had my fill of it at will, though it was notkept as a sweetmeat, but was a kitchen store having a special use inthe manufacture of rich brandy sauces for plum puddings, and of a kindof marchepane ornamentation for desserts. 

All the spices used in the household were also ground at home, inspice-mortars and spice-mills. These were of various sizes, includingthe pepper-mills, which were set on the table at meal-times, and thetiny ornamental graters which were carried in the pocket. 

The entire food of a household was the possible production of a farm. Ina paper published in the American Museum in 1787 an old farmer says:--

 "At this time my farm gave me and my whole family a good living on the produce of it, and left me one year with another one hundred and fifty silver dollars, for I never spent more than ten dollars a year which was for salt, nails, and the like. Nothing to eat, drink or wear was bought, as my farm provided all. "

The farm food was not varied, it is true, as to-day; for articles ofluxury came by importation. The products of tropical countries, such assugar, molasses, tea, coffee, spices, found poor substitutes in homefood-products. Dried pumpkin was a poor sweetening instead of molasses;maple sugar and honey were not esteemed as was sugar; tea wasill-replaced by raspberry leaves, loosestrife, hardhack, goldenrod, dittany, blackberry leaves, yeopon, sage, and a score of other herbs;coffee was better than parched rye and chestnuts; spices could not becompensated for or remotely imitated by any substitutes. 

So though there was ample quantity of food, the quality, save in thetown, was not such as English housewives had been accustomed to; therewere many deprivations in their kitchens which tried them sorely. Thebetter cooks they were, the more trying were the limitations. Everywoman with a love for her fellow-woman must feel a thrill of keensympathy for the goodwife of Newport, New Hampshire, who had to make herThanksgiving mince-pies with a filling of bear's meat and driedpumpkins, sweetened with maple sugar, and her crust of corn-meal. Herhusband loyally recorded that they were the best mince-pies he ever ate. 

As years passed on and great wealth came to individuals, the tables ofthe opulent, especially in the Middle colonies, rivalled the luxury ofEnglish and French houses of wealth. It is surprising to read in Dr. Cutler's diary that when he dined with Colonel Duer in New York in 1787, there were fifteen kinds of wine served besides cider, beer, and porter. 

John Adams probably lived as well as any New Englander of similarposition and means. A Sunday dinner at his house was thus described bya visitor: the first course was a pudding of Indian meal, molasses, andbutter; then came a course of veal and bacon, neck of mutton, andvegetables. When the New Englander went to Philadelphia, his eyes openedwide at the luxury and extravagance of fare. He has given in his diarysome accounts of the lavishness of the Philadelphia larder. Such entriesas these are found:--

 (Of the home of Miers Fisher, a young Quaker lawyer. ) "This plain Friend, with his plain but pretty wife with her Thees and Thous, had provided us a costly entertainment; ducks, hams, chickens, beef, pig, tarts, creams, custards, jellies, fools, trifles, floating islands, beer, porter, punch, wine and a long, etc. "

 (At the home of Chief Justice Chew. ) "About four o'clock we were called to dinner. Turtle and every other thing, flummery, jellies, sweetmeats of twenty sorts, trifles, whipped sillabubs, floating islands, fools, etc. , with a dessert of fruits, raisins, almonds, pears, peaches. "

 "A most sinful feast again! everything which could delight the eye or allure the taste; curds and creams, jellies, sweetmeats of various sorts, twenty kinds of tarts, fools, trifles, floating islands, whipped sillabubs, etc. Parmesan cheese, punch, wine, porter, beer. "

By which lists may plainly be seen that our second President hadsomewhat of a sweet tooth. 

The Dutch were great beer-drinkers and quickly established breweries atAlbany and New York. But before the century had ended New Englanders hadabandoned the constant drinking of ale and beer for cider. Cider wasvery cheap; but a few shillings a barrel. It was supplied in largeamounts to students at college, and even very little children drank it. President John Adams was an early and earnest wisher for temperancereform; but to the end of his life he drank a large tankard of hardcider every morning when he first got up. It was free in every farmhouseto all travellers and tramps. 

A cider-mill was usually built on a hillside so the building could beone story high in front and two in the back. Thus carts could easilyunload the apples on the upper level and take away the barrels of cideron the lower. Standing below on the lower floor you could see twoupright wooden cylinders, set a little way apart, with knobs, or nuts asthey were called, on one cylinder which fitted loosely into holes on theother. The cylinders worked in opposite directions and drew in andcrushed the apples poured down between them. The nuts and holesfrequently clogged with the pomace. Then the mill was stopped and a boyscraped out with a stick or hook the crushed apples. A horse walking ina small circle moved a lever which turned the motor wheel. It was slowwork; it took three hours to grind a cart-load of apples; but themachinery was efficient and simple. The pomace fell into a large shallowvat or tank, and if it could lie in the vat overnight it was a benefit. Then the pomace was put in a press. This was simple in construction. Atthe bottom was a platform grooved in channels; a sheaf of clean strawwas spread on the platform, and with wooden shovels the pomace wasspread thick over it. Then a layer of straw was laid at right angleswith the first, and more pomace, and so on till the form was about threefeet high; the top board was put on as a cover; the screw turned andblocks pressed down, usually with a long wooden hand-lever, very slowlyat first, then harder, until the mass was solid and every drop of juicehad trickled into the channels of the platform and thence to the panbelow. Within the last two or three years I have seen those cider-millsat work in the country back of old Plymouth and in Narragansett, sendingafar their sourly fruity odors. And though apple orchards are runningout, and few new trees are planted, and the apple crop in thosedistricts is growing smaller and smaller, yet is the sweet cider ofcountry cider-mills as free and plentiful a gift to any passer-by as thewater from the well or the air we breathe. Perry was made from pears, as cider is from apples, and peachy from peaches. Metheglin and mead, drinks of the old Druids in England, were made from honey, yeast, andwater, and were popular everywhere. In Virginia whole plantations of thehoney-locust furnished locust beans for making metheglin. Frompersimmons, elderberries, juniper berries, pumpkins, corn-stalks, hickory nuts, sassafras bark, birch bark, and many other leaves, roots, and barks, various light drinks were made. An old song boasted:--

 "Oh, we can make liquor to sweeten our lips Of pumpkins, of parsnips, of walnut-tree chips. "

Many other stronger and more intoxicating liquors were made in largequantities, among them enormous amounts of rum, which was called often"kill-devil. " The making of rum aided and almost supported theslave-trade in this country. The poor negroes were bought on the coastof Africa by New England sea-captains and merchants and paid for withbarrels of New England rum. These slaves were then carried onslave-ships to the West Indies, and sold at a large profit to plantersand slave-dealers for a cargo of molasses. This was brought to NewEngland, distilled into rum, and sent off to Africa. Thus the circle ofmolasses, rum, and slaves was completed. Many slaves were also landedin New England, but there was no crop there that needed negroes to raiseit. So slavery never was as common in New England as in the South, wherethe tropical tobacco and rice fields needed negro labor. But NewEngland's share in promoting negro slavery in America was just as greatas was Virginia's. 

Besides all the rum that was sent to Africa, much was drunk by Americansat home. At weddings, funerals, christenings, at all public meetings andprivate feasts, New England rum was ever present. In nothing is morecontrast shown between our present day and colonial times than in thehabits of liquor-drinking. We cannot be grateful enough for thetemperance reform, which began at the early part of this century, andwas so sadly needed. 

For many years the colonists had no tea, chocolate, or coffee to drink;for those were not in use in England when America was settled. In 1690two dealers were licensed to sell tea "in publique" in Boston. Green andbohea teas were sold at the Boston apothecaries' in 1712. For many yearstea was also sold like medicine in England at the apothecaries' and notat the grocers'. 

Many queer mistakes were made through ignorance of its proper use. Manycolonists put the tea into water, boiled it for a time, threw theliquid away, and ate the tea-leaves. In Salem they did not find theleaves very attractive, so they put butter and salt on them. 

In 1670 a Boston woman was licensed to sell coffee and chocolate, andsoon coffee-houses were established there. Some did not know how to cookcoffee any more than tea, but boiled the whole coffee-beans in water, ate them, and drank the liquid; and naturally this was not very goodeither to eat or drink. 

At the time of the Stamp Act, when patriotic Americans threw the teainto Boston harbor, Americans were just as great tea-drinkers as theEnglish. Now it is not so. The English drink much more tea than we do;and the habit of coffee-drinking, first acquired in the Revolution, hasdescended from generation to generation, and we now drink more coffeethan tea. This is one of the differences in our daily life caused by theRevolution. 

Many home-grown substitutes were used in Revolutionary times for tea:ribwort was a favorite one; strawberry and currant leaves, sage, thorough-wort, and "Liberty Tea, " made from the four-leaved loosestrife. "Hyperion tea" was raspberry leaves, and was said by good patriots to be"very delicate and most excellent. "

CHAPTER VIII

FLAX CULTURE AND SPINNING

In recounting the various influences which assisted the Americans tosuccess in the War for Independence, such as the courage and integrityof the American generals, the generosity of the American people, theskill of Americans in marksmanship, their powers of endurance, theiracclimatization, their confidence and faith, etc. , we must never forgetto add their independence in their own homes of any outside help to givethem every necessity of life. No farmer or his wife need fear any kingwhen on every home farm was found food, drink, medicine, fuel, lighting, clothing, shelter. Home-made was an adjective that might be applied tonearly every article in the house. Such would not be the case undersimilar stress to-day. In the matter of clothing alone we could not nowbe independent. Few farmers raise flax to make linen; few women can spineither wool or flax, or weave cloth; many cannot knit. In early daysevery farmer and his sons raised wool and flax; his wife and daughtersspun them into thread and yarn, knit these into stockings and mittens, or wove them into linen and cloth, and then made them into clothing. Even in large cities nearly all women spun yarn and thread, all couldknit, and many had hand-looms to weave cloth at home. These homeoccupations in the production of clothing have been very happily termedthe "homespun industries. "

Nearly every one has seen one of the pretty foot-wheels for spinningflax thread for linen, which may yet be found in the attics of many ofour farmhouses, as well as in some of our parlors, where, with a bunchof flax wound around and tied to the spindle, they have within a fewyears been placed as a relic of the olden times. 

If one of these flax-wheels could speak to-day, it would sing a tale ofthe patient industry, of the tiring work of our grandmothers, even whenthey were little children, which ought never to be forgotten. 

As soon as the colonists had cleared their farms from stones and stumps, they planted a field, or "patch" of flax, and usually one of hemp. Theseed was sown broadcast like grass-seed in May. Flax is a graceful plantwith pretty drooping blue flowers; hemp has but a sad-colored blossom. 

Thomas Tusser says in his _Book of Housewifery_:--

 "Good flax and good hemp to have of her own, In May a good huswife will see it be sown. And afterwards trim it to serve in a need; The fimble to spin, the card for her seed. "

When the flax plants were three or four inches high, they were weeded byyoung women or children who had to work barefoot, as the stalks werevery tender. If the land had a growth of thistles, the weeders couldwear three or four pairs of woollen stockings. The children had to stepfacing the wind, so if any plants were trodden down the wind would helpto blow them back into place. When the flax was ripe, in the last ofJune or in July, it was pulled up by the roots and laid out carefully todry for a day or two, and turned several times in the sun; this work wascalled pulling and spreading, and was usually done by men and boys. Itthen was "rippled. " A coarse wooden or heavy iron wire comb with greatteeth, named a ripple-comb, was fastened on a plank; the stalks of flaxwere drawn through it with a quick stroke to break off the seed-bollesor "bobs, " which fell on a sheet spread to catch them; these were savedfor seed for the next crop, or for sale. 

Rippling was done in the field. The stalks were then tied in bundlescalled beats or bates and stacked. They were tied only at the seed end, and the base of the stalks was spread out forming a tent-shaped stack, called a stook. When dry, the stalks were watered to rot the leaves andsofter fibres. Hemp was watered without rippling. This was donepreferably in running water, as the rotting flax poisoned fish. Stakeswere set in the water in the form of a square, called a steep-pool, andthe bates of flax or hemp were piled in solidly, each alternate layer atright angles with the one beneath it. A cover of boards and heavy stoneswas piled on top. In four or five days the bates were taken up and therotted leaves removed. A slower process was termed dew-retting; an oldauthor calls it "a vile and naughty way, " but it was the way chieflyemployed in America. 

When the flax was cleaned, it was once more dried and tied in bundles. Then came work for strong men, to break it on the ponderous flax-brake, to separate the fibres and get out from the centre the hard woody "hexe"or "bun. " Hemp was also broken. 

A flax-brake is an implement which is almost impossible to describe. Itwas a heavy log of wood about five feet long, either large enough so theflat top was about three feet from the ground, or set on heavy logs tobring it to that height. A portion of the top was cut down leaving ablock at each end, and several long slats were set in lengthwise andheld firm at each end with edges up, by being set into the end blocks. Then a similar set of slats, put in a heavy frame, was made with theslats set far enough apart to go into the spaces of the lower slats. Theflax was laid on the lower slats, the frame and upper slats placed onit, and then pounded down with a heavy wooden mallet weighing manypounds. Sometimes the upper frame of slats, or knives as they werecalled, were hinged to the big under log at one end, and heavilyweighted at the other, and thus the blow was given by the fall of theweight, not by the force of the farmer's muscle. The tenacity of theflax can be seen when it would stand this violent beating; and the cruelblow can be imagined, which the farmer's fingers sometimes got when hecarelessly thrust his hand with the flax too far under the descendingjaw--a shark's maw was equally gentle. 

Flax was usually broken twice, once with an "open-tooth brake, " oncewith a "close or strait brake, " that is, one where the long, sharp-edgestrips of wood were set closely together. Then it was scutched orswingled with a swingling block and knife, to take out any smallparticles of bark that might adhere. A man could swingle forty poundsof flax a day, but it was hard work. All this had to be done in clearsunny weather when the flax was as dry as tinder. 

The clean fibres were then made into bundles called strikes. The strikeswere swingled again, and from the refuse called swingle-tree hurds, coarse bagging could be spun and woven. After being thoroughly cleanedthe rolls or strikes were sometimes beetled, that is, pounded in awooden trough with a great pestle-shaped beetle over and over againuntil soft. 

Then came the hackling or hetcheling, and the fineness of the flaxdepended upon the number of hacklings, the fineness of the varioushackles or hetchels or combs, and the dexterity of the operator. In thehands of a poor hackler the best of flax would be converted into tow. The flax was slightly wetted, taken hold of at one end of the bunch, anddrawn through the hackle-teeth towards the hetcheller, and thus fibreswere pulled and laid into continuous threads, while the short fibreswere combed out. It was dusty, dirty work. The threefold process had tobe all done at once; the fibres had to be divided to their finefilaments, the long threads laid in untangled line, and the towseparated and removed. After the first hackle, called a ruffler, sixother finer hackles were often used. It was one of the surprises offlax preparation to see how little good fibre would be left after allthis hackling, even from a large mass of raw material, but it wasequally surprising to see how much linen thread could be made from thissmall amount of fine flax. The fibres were sorted according to fineness;this was called spreading and drawing. So then after over twentydexterous manipulations the flax was ready for the wheel, forspinning, --the most dexterous process of all, --and was wrapped round thespindle. 

Seated at the small flax-wheel, the spinner placed her foot on thetreadle, and spun the fibre into a long, even thread. Hung on the wheelwas a small bone, wood, or earthenware cup, or a gourd-shell, filledwith water, in which the spinner moistened her fingers as she held thetwisting flax, which by the movement of the wheel was wound on bobbins. When all were filled, the thread was wound off in knots and skeins on areel. A machine called a clock-reel counted the exact number of strandsin a knot, usually forty, and ticked when the requisite number had beenwound. Then the spinner would stop and tie the knot. A quaint old balladhas the refrain:--

 "And he kissed Mistress Polly when the clock-reel ticked. "

That is, the lover seized the rare and propitious moments of MistressPolly's comparative leisure to kiss her. 

Usually the knots or lays were of forty threads, and twenty lays made askein or slipping. The number varied, however, with locality. To spintwo skeins of linen thread was a good day's work; for it a spinner waspaid eight cents a day and "her keep. "

These skeins of thread had to be bleached. They were laid in warm waterfor four days, the water being frequently changed, and the skeinsconstantly wrung out. Then they were washed in the brook till the watercame from them clear and pure. Then they were "bucked, " that is, bleached with ashes and hot water, in a bucking-tub, over and overagain, then laid in clear water for a week, and afterwards came a grandseething, rinsing, beating, washing, drying, and winding on bobbins forthe loom. Sometimes the bleaching was done with slaked lime or withbuttermilk. 

These were not the only bleaching operations the flax went through;others will be detailed in the chapter on hand-weaving. 

One lucrative product of flax should be mentioned--flaxseed. Flax waspulled for spinning when the base of the stalk began to turn yellow, which was usually the first of July. An old saying was, "June brings theflax. " For seed it stood till it was all yellow. The flaxseed was usedfor making oil. Usually the upper chambers of country stores were filleda foot deep with flaxseed in the autumn, waiting for good sleighing toconvey the seed to town. 

In New Hampshire in early days, a wheelwright was not a man who madewagon-wheels (as such he would have had scant occupation), but one whomade spinning-wheels. Often he carried them around the country onhorseback selling them, thus adding another to the many interestingitineracies of colonial days. Spinning-wheels would seem clumsy forhorse-carriage, but they were not set up, and several could be compactlycarried when taken apart; far more ticklish articles went onpack-horses, --large barrels, glazed window-sashes, etc. Nor would itseem very difficult for a man to carry spinning-wheels on horseback, when frequently a woman would jump on horseback in the early morning, and with a baby on one arm and a flax-wheel tied behind, would rideseveral miles to a neighbor's to spend the day spinning in cheerfulcompanionship. A century ago one of these wheelwrights sold a finespinning-wheel for a dollar, a clock-reel for two dollars, and awool-wheel for two dollars. 

Few persons are now living who have ever seen carried on in a countryhome in America any of these old-time processes which have beenrecounted. As an old antiquary wrote:--

 "Few have ever seen a woman hatchel flax or card tow, or heard the buzzing of the foot-wheel, or seen bunches of flaxen yarn hanging in the kitchen, or linen cloth whitening on the grass. The flax-dresser with the shives, fibres, and dirt of flax covering his garments, and his face begrimed with flax-dirt has disappeared; the noise of his brake and swingling knife has ended, and the boys no longer make bonfires of his swingling tow. The sound of the spinning-wheel, the song of the spinster, and the snapping of the clock-reel all have ceased; the warping bars and quill wheel are gone, and the thwack of the loom is heard only in the factory. The spinning woman of King Lemuel cannot be found. "

Frequent references are made to flax in the Bible, notably in the Bookof Proverbs; and the methods of growing and preparing flax by theancient Egyptians were precisely the same as those of the Americancolonist a hundred years ago, of the Finn, Lapp, Norwegian, and Belgianflax-growers to-day. This ancient skill was not confined toflax-working. Rosselini, the eminent hierologist, says that every moderncraftsman may see on Egyptian monuments four thousand years old, representations of the process of his craft just as it is carried onto-day. The paintings in the Grotto of El Kab, shown in Hamilton's_Ægyptica_, show the pulling, stocking, tying, and rippling of flaxgoing on just as it is done in Egypt now. The four-tooth ripple of theEgyptian is improved upon, but it is the same implement. Pliny gives anaccount of the mode of preparing flax: plucking it up by the roots, tying it in bundles, drying, watering, beating, and hackling it, or, ashe says, "combing it with iron hooks. " Until the Christian era linen wasalmost the only kind of clothing used in Egypt, and the teeming banks ofthe Nile furnished flax in abundance. The quality of the linen can beseen in the bands preserved on mummies. It was not, however, spun on awheel, but on a hand-distaff, called sometimes a rock, on which thewomen in India still spin the very fine thread which is employed inmaking India muslins. The distaff was used in our colonies; it wasordered that children and others tending sheep or cattle in the fieldsshould also "be set to some other employment withal, such as spinningupon the rock, knitting, weaving tape, etc. " I heard recently adistinguished historian refer in a lecture to this colonial statute, andhe spoke of the children _sitting upon a rock_ while knitting orspinning, etc. , evidently knowing naught of the proper signification ofthe word. 

The homespun industries have ever been held to have a beneficent andpeace-bringing influence on women. Wordsworth voiced this sentiment whenhe wrote his series of sonnets beginning:--

 "Grief! thou hast lost an ever-ready friend Now that the cottage spinning-wheel is mute. "

Chaucer more cynically says, through the _Wife of Bath_:--

 "Deceite, weepynge, spynnynge God hath give To wymmen kyndely that they may live. "

Spinning doubtless was an ever-ready refuge in the monotonous life ofthe early colonist. She soon had plenty of material to work with. Everywhere, even in the earliest days, the culture of flax wasencouraged. By 1640 the Court of Massachusetts passed two ordersdirecting the growth of flax, ascertaining what colonists were skilfulin breaking, spinning, weaving, ordering that boys and girls be taughtto spin, and offering a bounty for linen grown, spun, and woven in thecolony. Connecticut passed similar measures. Soon spinning-classes wereformed, and every family ordered to spin so many pounds of flax a year, or to pay a fine. The industry received a fresh impulse through theimmigration of about one hundred Irish families from Londonderry. Theysettled in New Hampshire on the Merrimac about 1719, and spun and wovewith far more skill than prevailed among those English settlers who hadalready become Americans. They established a manufactory according toIrish methods, and attempts at a similar establishment were made inBoston. 

There was much public excitement over spinning, and prizes were offeredfor quantity and quality. Women, rich as well as poor, appeared onBoston Common with their wheels, thus making spinning a popular holidayrecreation. A brick building was erected as a spinning-school costing£15, 000, and a tax was placed on carriages and coaches in 1757 tosupport it. At the fourth anniversary in 1749 of the "Boston Society forpromoting Industry and Frugality, " three hundred "young spinsters" spunon their wheels on Boston Common. And a pretty sight it must have been:the fair young girls in the quaint and pretty dress of the times, shownto us in Hogarth's prints, spinning on the green grass under the greattrees. In 1754, on a like occasion, a minister preached to the"spinsters, " and a collection of £453 was taken up. This was in currencyof depreciated value. At the same time premiums were offered inPennsylvania for weaving linen and spinning thread. Benjamin Franklinwrote in his _Poor Richard's Almanac_:--

 "Many estates are spent in the getting, Since women for tea forsook spinning and knitting. "

But the German colonists long before this had been famous flax-raisers. A Pennsylvania poet in 1692 descanted on the flax-workers ofGermantown:--

 "Where live High German people and Low Dutch Whose trade in weaving linen cloth is much, There grows the flax as also you may know, That from the same they do divide the tow. "

Father Pastorius, their leader, forever commemorated his interest in hiscolony and in the textile arts by his choice for a device for a seal. Whittier thus describes it in his _Pennsylvania Pilgrim_:--

 "Still on the town-seal his device is found, Grapes, flax, and thread-spool on a three-foil ground With _Vinum, Linum, et Textrinum_ wound. "

Virginia was earlier even in awakening interest in manufacturing flaxthan Massachusetts, for wild flax grew there in profusion, ready forgathering. In 1646 two houses were ordered to be erected at Jamestown asspinning-schools. These were to be well built and well heated. Eachcounty was to send to these schools two poor children, seven or eightyears old, to be taught carding, spinning, and knitting. Each child wasto be supplied by the county authorities on admission to the school withsix barrels of Indian corn, a pig, two hens, clothing, shoes, a bed, rug, blanket, two coverlets, a wooden tray, and two pewter dishes orcups. This plan was not wholly carried out. Prizes in tobacco (which wasthe current money of Virginia in which everything was paid) were given, however, for every pound of flax, every skein of yarn, every yard oflinen of Virginia production, and soon flax-wheels and spinners wereplentiful. 

Intelligent attempts were made to start these industries in the South. Governor Lucas wrote to his daughter, Mrs. Pinckney, in Charleston, South Carolina, in 1745:--

 "I send by this Sloop two Irish servants, viz. : a Weaver and a Spinner. I am informed Mr. Cattle hath produced both Flax and Hemp. I pray you will purchase some, and order a loom and spinning-wheel to be made for them, and set them to work. I shall order Flax sent from Philadelphia with seed, that they may not be idle. I pray you will also purchase Wool and sett them to making Negroes clothing which may be sufficient for my own People. 

 "As I am afraid one Spinner can't keep a Loom at work, I pray you will order a Sensible Negroe woman or two to learn to spin, and wheels to be made for them; the man Servant will direct the Carpenter in making the loom and the woman will direct the Wheel. "

The following year Madam Pinckney wrote to her father that the woman hadspun all the material they could get, so was idle; that the loom hadbeen made, but had no tackling; that she would make the harness for it, if two pounds of shoemaker's thread were sent her. The sensible negrowoman and hundreds of others learned well to spin, and excellent clothhas been always woven in the low country of Carolina, as well as in theupper districts, till our own time. 

In the revolt of feeling caused by the Stamp Act, there was a constantsocial pressure to encourage the manufacture and wearing of goods ofAmerican manufacture. As one evidence of this movement the president andfirst graduating class of Rhode Island College--now BrownUniversity--were clothed in fabrics made in New England. FromMassachusetts to South Carolina the women of the colonies bandedtogether in patriotic societies called Daughters of Liberty, agreeing towear only garments of homespun manufacture, and to drink no tea. Inmany New England towns they gathered together to spin, each bringing herown wheel. At one meeting seventy linen-wheels were employed. In Rowley, Massachusetts, the meeting of the Daughters is thus described:--

 "A number of thirty-three respectable ladies of the town met at sunrise with their wheels to spend the day at the house of the Rev'd Jedediah Jewell, in the laudable design of a spinning match. At an hour before sunset, the ladies there appearing neatly dressed, principally in homespun, a polite and generous repast of American production was set for their entertainment. After which being present many spectators of both sexes, Mr. Jewell delivered a profitable discourse from Romans xii. 2: "Not slothful in business, fervent in spirit, serving the Lord. "

Matters of church and patriotism were never far apart in New England; sowhenever the spinners gathered at New London, Newbury, Ipswich, orBeverly, they always had an appropriate sermon. A favorite text wasExodus xxxv. 25: "And all the women that were wise-hearted did spin withtheir hands. " When the Northboro women met, they presented the resultsof their day's work to their minister. There were forty-four women andthey spun 2223 knots of linen and tow, and wove one linen sheet and twotowels. 

By Revolutionary times General Howe thought "Linen and Woollen Goodsmuch wanted by the Rebels"; hence when he prepared to evacuate Boston heordered all such goods carried away with him. But he little knew thedomestic industrial resources of the Americans. Women were then mostproficient in spinning. In 1777 Miss Eleanor Fry of East Greenwich, Rhode Island, spun seven skeins one knot linen yarn in one day, anextraordinary amount. This was enough to weave twelve linenhandkerchiefs. At this time when there were about five or six skeins toa pound of flax, the pay for spinning was sixpence a skein. The AbbéRobin wondered at the deftness of New England spinners. 

In 1789 an outcry was raised against the luxury said to be eating awaythe substance of the new country. The poor financial administration ofthe government seemed deranging everything; and again a social movementwas instituted in New England to promote "Oeconomy and HouseholdIndustries. " "The Rich and Great strive by example to convince thePopulace of their error by Growing their own Flax and Wool, having someone in the Family to dress it, and all the Females spin, several weaveand bleach the linen. " The old spinning-matches were revived. Again theministers preached to the faithful women "Oeconomists, " who thuscombined religion, patriotism, and industry. Truly it was, as acontemporary writer said, "a pleasing Sight: some spinning, somereeling, some carding cotton, some combing flax, " as they were preachedto. 

Within a few years attempts have been made in England and Ireland toencourage flax-growing, as before it is spun it gives employment totwenty different classes of laborers, many parts of which work can bedone by young and unskilled children. In Courtrai, where hand spinningand weaving of flax still flourish, the average earnings of a family arethree pounds a week. In Finland homespun linen still is made in everyhousehold. The British Spinning and Weaving School in New Bond Street isan attempt to revive the vanished industry in England. In our owncountry it is pleasant to record that the National Association of CottonManufacturers is planning to start on a large scale the culture andmanufacture of flax in our Eastern states; this is not, however, withany thought of reviving either the preparation, spinning, or weaving offlax by old-time hand processes. 

CHAPTER IX

WOOL CULTURE AND SPINNING

_With a Postscript on Cotton_

The art of spinning was an honorable occupation for women as early asthe ninth century; and it was so universal that it furnished a legaltitle by which an unmarried woman is known to this day. Spinster is theonly one of all her various womanly titles that survives; webster, shepster, litster, brewster, and baxter are obsolete. The occupationsare also obsolete save those indicated by shepster and baxter--that is, the cutting out of cloth and baking of bread; these are the only dutiesamong them all that she still performs. 

The wool industry dates back to prehistoric man. The patience, care, andskill involved in its manufacture have ever exercised a potent influenceon civilization. It is, therefore, interesting and gratifying to notethe intelligent eagerness of our first colonists for wool culture. Itwas quickly and proudly noted of towns and of individuals as a proof oftheir rapid and substantial progress that they could carry on any of thesteps of the cloth industry. Good Judge Sewall piously exulted whenBrother Moody started a successful fulling-mill in Boston. Johnson inhis _Wonder-working Providence_ tells with pride that by 1654 NewEnglanders "have a fulling-mill and caused their little ones to be verydilligent in spinning cotton-woole, many of them having been clothiersin England. " This has ever seemed to me one of the fortunate conditionsthat tended to the marked success of the Massachusetts Bay Colony, thatso many had been "clothiers" or cloth-workers in England; or had comefrom shires in England where wool was raised and cloth made, and henceknew the importance of the industry as well as its practical workings. 

As early as 1643 the author of _New England's First Fruits_ wrote: "Theyare making linens, fustians, dimities, and look immediately to woollensfrom their own sheep. " Johnson estimated the number of sheep in thecolony of Massachusetts, about 1644, as three thousand. Soon the greatwheel was whirring in every New England house. The raising of sheep wasencouraged in every way. They were permitted to graze on the commons; itwas forbidden to send them from the colony; no sheep under two years oldcould be killed to sell; if a dog killed a sheep, the dog's owner musthang him and pay double the cost of the sheep. All persons who were notemployed in other ways, as single women, girls, and boys, were requiredto spin. Each family must contain one spinner. These spinners wereformed into divisions or "squadrons" of ten persons; each division had adirector. There were no drones in this hive; neither the wealth nor highstation of parents excused children from this work. Thus all werelevelled to one kind of labor, and by this levelling all were alsoelevated to independence. When the open expression of revolt came, thehomespun industries seemed a firm rock for the foundation of liberty. People joined in agreements to eat no lamb or mutton, that thus sheepmight be preserved, and to wear no imported woollen cloth. They gaveprizes for spinning and weaving. 

Great encouragement was given in Virginia in early days to the raisingand manufacture of wool. The Assembly estimated that five children notover thirteen years of age could by their work readily spin and weaveenough to keep thirty persons clothed. Six pounds of tobacco was paid toany one bringing to the county court-house where he resided a yard ofhomespun woollen cloth, made wholly in his family; twelve pounds oftobacco were offered for reward for a dozen pair of woollen hoseknitted at home. Slaves were taught to spin; and wool-wheels andwool-cards are found by the eighteenth century on every inventory ofplanters' house furnishings. 

The Pennsylvania settlers were early in the encouragement of woolmanufacture. The present industry of hosiery and knit goods long knownas Germantown goods began with the earliest settlers of thatPennsylvania town. Stocking-weavers were there certainly as early as1723; and it is asserted there were knitting-machines. At any rate, oneMack, the son of the founder of the Dunkers, made "leg stockings" andgloves. Rev. Andrew Burnaby, who was in Germantown in 1759, told of agreat manufacture of stockings at that date. In 1777 it was said that ahundred Germantown stocking-weavers were out of employment through thewar. Still it was not till 1850 that patents for knitting-machines weretaken out there. 

Among the manufactures of the province of Pennsylvania in 1698 weredruggets, serges, and coverlets; and among the registered tradesmen weredyers, fullers, comb-makers, card-makers, weavers, and spinners. TheSwedish colony as early as 1673 had the wives and daughters "employingthemselves in spinning wool and flax and many in weaving. " The fairsinstituted by William Penn for the encouragement of domesticmanufactures and trade in general, which were fostered by Franklin andcontinued till 1775, briskly stimulated wool and flax manufacture. 

In 1765 and in 1775 rebellious Philadelphians banded together withpromises not to eat or suffer to be eaten in their families any lamb or"meat of the mutton kind"; in this the Philadelphia butchers, patrioticand self-sacrificing, all joined. A wool-factory was built and fitted upand an appeal made to the women to save the state. In a month fourhundred wool-spinners were at work. But the war cut off the supply ofraw material, and the manufacture languished. In 1790, after the war, fifteen hundred sets of irons for spinning-wheels were sold from oneshop, and mechanics everywhere were making looms. 

New Yorkers were not behindhand in industry. Lord Cornbury wrote home toEngland, in 1705, that he "had seen serge made upon Long Island that anyman might wear; they make very good linen for common use; as for WoollenI think they have brought that to too great perfection. "

In Cornbury's phrase, "too great perfection, " may be found the key forall the extraordinary and apparently stupid prohibitions andrestrictions placed by the mother-country on colonial wool manufacture. The growth of the woollen industry in any colony was regarded at once byEngland with jealous eyes. Wool was the pet industry and principalstaple of Great Britain; and well it might be, for until the reign ofHenry VIII. English garments from head to foot were wholly of wool, eventhe shoes. Wool was also received in England as currency. Thomas Fullersaid, "The wealth of our nation is folded up in broadcloth. " Therefore, the Crown, aided by the governors of the provinces, sought to maintainEngland's monopoly by regulating and reducing the culture of wool inAmerica through prohibiting the exportation to England of any Americanwool or woollen materials. In 1699 all vessels sailing to England fromthe colonies were prohibited taking on board any "Wool, Woolfells, Shortlings, Moslings, Wool Flocks, Worsteds, Bays, Bay or Woollen Yarn, Cloath, Serge, Kersey, Says, Frizes, Druggets, Shalloons, etc. "; and anarbitrary law was passed prohibiting the transportation of home-madewoollens from one American province to another. These laws were neverfully observed and never checked the culture and manufacture of wool inthis country. Hence our colonies were spared the cruel fate by whichEngland's same policy paralyzed and obliterated in a few years theglorious wool industry of Ireland. Luckily for us, it is further acrossthe Atlantic Ocean than across St. George's Channel. 

The "all-wool goods a yard wide, " which we so easily purchase to-day, meant to the colonial dame or daughter the work of many weeks andmonths, from the time when the fleeces were first given to her defthands. Fleeces had to be opened with care, and have all pitched ortarred locks, dag-locks, brands, and feltings cut out. These cuttingswere not wasted, but were spun into coarse yarn. The white locks werecarefully tossed and separated and tied into net bags with tallies to bedyed. Another homely saying, "dyed in the wool, " showed a process ofmuch skill. Blue, in all shades, was the favorite color, and was dyedwith indigo. So great was the demand for this dye-stuff thatindigo-pedlers travelled over the country selling it. 

Madder, cochineal, and logwood dyed beautiful reds. The bark of red oakor hickory made very pretty shades of brown and yellow. Various flowersgrowing on the farm could be used for dyes. The flower of the goldenrod, when pressed of its juice, mixed with indigo, and added to alum, made abeautiful green. The juice of the pokeberry boiled with alum madecrimson dye, and a violet juice from the petals of the iris, or"flower-de-luce, " that blossomed in June meadows, gave a delicate lightpurple tinge to white wool. 

The bark of the sassafras was used for dyeing yellow or orange color, and the flowers and leaves of the balsam also. Fustic and copperas gaveyellow dyes. A good black was obtained by boiling woollen cloth with aquantity of the leaves of the common field-sorrel, then boiling againwith logwood and copperas. 

In the South there were scores of flowers and leaves that could be usedfor dyes. During the Revolutionary War one enterprising South Caroliniangot a guinea a pound for a yellow dye he made from the sweet-leaf orhorse-laurel. The leaves and berries of gall-berry bush made a goodblack much used by hatters and weavers. The root of the barberry gavewool a beautiful yellow, as did the leaves of the devil's-bit. Thepetals of Jerusalem artichoke and St. -John's-wort dyed yellow. Yellowroot is a significant name and reveals its use: oak, walnut, or maplebark dyed brown. Often the woven cloth was dyed, not the wool. 

The next process was carding; the wool was first greased with rape oilor "melted swine's grease, " which had to be thoroughly worked in; aboutthree pounds of grease were put into ten pounds of wool. Wool-cards wererectangular pieces of thin board, with a simple handle on the back orat the side; to this board was fastened a smaller rectangle of strongleather, set thick with slightly bent wire teeth, like a coarse brush. The carder took one card with her left hand, and resting it on her knee, drew a tuft of wool across it several times, until a sufficient quantityof fibre had been caught upon the wire teeth. She then drew the secondwool-card, which had to be warmed, across the first several times, untilthe fibres were brushed parallel by all these "tummings. " Then by adeft and catchy motion the wool was rolled or carded into small fleecyrolls which were then ready for spinning. 

Wool-combs were shaped like the letter T, with about thirty long steelteeth from ten to eighteen inches long set at right angles with the topof the T. The wool was carefully placed on one comb, and with carefulstrokes the other comb laid the long staple smooth for hard-twistedspinning. It was tedious and slow work, and a more skilful operationthan carding; and the combs had to be kept constantly heated; but nomachine-combing ever equalled hand-combing. There was a good deal ofwaste in this combing, that is, large clumps of tangled wool called noilwere combed out. They were not really wasted, we may be sure, by ourfrugal ancestors, but were spun into coarse yarn. 

An old author says: "The action of spinning must be learned by practice, not by relation. " Sung by the poets, the grace and beauty of theoccupation has ever shared praise with its utility. 

Wool-spinning was truly one of the most flexible and alert series ofmovements in the world, and to its varied and graceful poises ourgrandmothers may owe part of the dignity of carriage that was socharacteristic of them. The spinner stood slightly leaning forward, lightly poised on the ball of the left foot; with her left hand shepicked up from the platform of the wheel a long slender roll of the softcarded wool about as large round as the little finger, and deftly woundthe end of the fibres on the point of the spindle. She then gave agentle motion to the wheel with a wooden peg held in her right hand, and seized with the left the roll at exactly the right distance from thespindle to allow for one "drawing. " Then the hum of the wheel rose to asound like the echo of wind; she stepped backward quickly, one, two, three steps, holding high the long yarn as it twisted and quivered. Suddenly she glided forward with even, graceful stride and let the yarnwind on the swift spindle. Another pinch of the wool-roll, a new turn ofthe wheel, and _da capo_. 

The wooden peg held by the spinner deserves a short description; itserved the purpose of an elongated finger, and was called a driver, wheel-peg, etc. It was about nine inches long, an inch or so indiameter; and at about an inch from the end was slightly grooved inorder that it might surely catch the spoke and thus propel the wheel. 

It was a good day's work for a quick, active spinner to spin six skeinsof yarn a day. It was estimated that to do that with her quick backwardand forward steps she walked over _twenty miles_. 

The yarn might be wound directly upon the wooden spindle as it was spun, or at the end of the spindle might be placed a spool or broach whichtwisted with the revolving spindle, and held the new-spun yarn. Thisbroach was usually simply a stiff roll of paper, a corn-cob, or a rollof corn-husk. When the ball of yarn was as large as the broach wouldhold, the spinner placed wooden pegs in certain holes in the spokes ofher spinning-wheel and tied the end of the yarn to one peg. Then shetook off the belt of her wheel and whirred the big wheel swiftly round, thus winding the yarn on the pegs into hanks or clews two yards incircumference, which were afterwards tied with a loop of yarn into knotsof forty threads; while seven of these knots made a skein. Theclock-reel was used for winding yarn, also a triple reel. 

The yarn might be wound from the spindle into skeins in another way, --byusing a hand-reel, an implement which really did exist in everyfarmhouse, though the dictionaries are ignorant of it, as they are ofits universal folk-name, niddy-noddy. This is fortunately preserved inan every-day domestic riddle:--

 "Niddy-noddy, niddy-noddy, Two heads and one body. "

The three pieces of these niddy-noddys were set together at curiousangles, and are here shown rather than described in words. Holding thereel in the left hand by seizing the central "body" or rod, the yarn waswound from end to end of the reel, by an odd, waving, wobbling motion, into knots and skeins of the same size as by the first processdescribed. One of these niddy-noddys was owned by Nabby Marshall ofDeerfield, who lived to be one hundred and four years old. The otherwas brought from Ireland in 1733 by Hugh Maxwell, father of theRevolutionary patriot Colonel Maxwell. As it was at a time of Englishprohibitions and restrictions of American manufactures, thisniddy-noddy, as an accessory and promoter of colonial wool manufacture, was smuggled into the country. 

Sometimes the woollen yarn was spun twice; especially if a close, hard-twisted thread was desired, to be woven into a stiff, wiry cloth. When there were two, the first spinning was called a roving. The singlespinning was usually deemed sufficient to furnish yarn for knitting, where softness and warmth were the desired requisites. 

It was the pride of a good spinster to spin the finest yarn, and oneMistress Mary Prigge spun a pound of wool into fifty hanks ofeighty-four thousand yards; in all, nearly forty-eight miles. If theyarn was to be knitted, it had to be washed and cleansed. The wife ofColonel John May, a prominent man in Boston, wrote in her diary for oneday:--

 "A large kettle of yarn to attend upon. Lucretia and self rinse, scour through many waters, get out, dry, attend to, bring in, do up and sort 110 score of yarn; this with baking and ironing. Then went to hackling flax. "

It should be remembered that all those bleaching processes, the wringingout and rinsing in various waters, were far more wearisome then thanthey would be to-day, for the water had to be carried laboriously inpails and buckets, and drawn with pumps and well-sweeps; there were nopipes and conduits. Happy the household that had a running brook nearthe kitchen door. 

Of course all these operations and manipulations usually occupied manyweeks and months, but they could be accomplished in a much shorter time. When President Nott of Union College, and his brother Samuel, the famouspreacher, were boys on a stony farm in Connecticut, one of the brothersneeded a new suit of clothes, and as the father was sick there wasneither money nor wool in the house. The mother sheared some half-grownfleece from her sheep, and in less than a week the boy wore it asclothing. The shivering and generous sheep were protected by wrappingsof braided straw. During the Revolution, it is said that in a day and anight a mother and her daughters in Townsend, Massachusetts, sheared ablack and a white sheep, carded from the fleece a gray wool, spun, wove, cut and made a suit of clothes for a boy to wear off to fight forliberty. 

The wool industry easily furnished home occupation to an entire family. Often by the bright firelight in the early evening every member of thehousehold might be seen at work on the various stages of woolmanufacture or some of its necessary adjuncts, and varied and cheerfulindustrial sounds fill the room. The old grandmother, at light and easywork, is carding the wool into fleecy rolls, seated next the fire; for, as the ballad says, "she was old and saw right dimly. " The mother, stepping as lightly as one of her girls, spins the rolls into woollenyarn on the great wheel. The oldest daughter sits at the clock-reel, whose continuous buzz and occasional click mingles with the humming riseand fall of the wool-wheel, and the irritating scratch, scratch, of thecards. A little girl at a small wheel is filling quills with woollenyarn for the loom, not a skilled work; the irregular sound shows herintermittent industry. The father is setting fresh teeth in a wool-card, while the boys are whittling hand-reels and loom-spools. 

One of the household implements used in wool manufacture, the wool-card, deserves a short special history as well as a description. In early daysthe leather back of the wool-card was pierced with an awl by hand; thewire teeth were cut off from a length of wire, were slightly bent, andset and clinched one by one. These cards were laboriously made by manypersons at home, for their household use. As early as 1667 wire was madein Massachusetts; and its chief use was for wool-cards. ByRevolutionary times it was realized that the use of wool-cards wasalmost the mainspring of the wool industry, and £100 bounty was offeredby Massachusetts for card-wire made in the state from iron mined in whatthey called then the "United American States. " In 1784 a machine wasinvented by an American which would cut and bend thirty-six thousandwire teeth an hour. Another machine pierced the leather backs. This gavea new employment to women and children at home and some spending-money. They would get boxes of the bent wire teeth and bundles of the leatherbacks from the factories and would set the teeth in the backs whilesitting around the open fire in the evening. They did this work, too, while visiting--spending an afternoon; and it was an unconscious anddiverting work like knitting; scholars set wool-cards while studying, and schoolmistresses while teaching. This method of manufacture wassuperseded fifteen years later by a machine invented by Amos Whittemore, which held, cut, and pierced the leather, drew the wire from a reel, cutand bent a looped tooth, set it, bent it, fastened the leather on theback, and speedily turned out a fully made card. John Randolph said thismachine had everything but an immortal soul. By this time spinning andweaving machinery began to crowd out home work, and the machine-madecards were needed to keep up with the increased demand. At last machinescrowded into every department of cloth manufacture; and aftercarding-machines were invented in England--great rollers set withcard-teeth--they were set up in many mills throughout the United States. 

Families soon sent all their wool to these mills to be carded even whenit was spun and woven at home. It was sent rolled up in a homespun sheetor blanket pinned with thorns; and the carded rolls ready for spinningwere brought home in the same way, and made a still bigger bundle whichwas light in weight for its size. Sometimes a red-cheeked farmer's lasswould be seen riding home from the carding-mill, through New Englandwoods or along New England lanes, with a bundle of carded wool toweringup behind her bigger than her horse. 

Of the use and manufacture of cotton I will speak very shortly. Ourgreatest, cheapest, most indispensable fibre is also our latest one. Itnever formed one of the homespun industries of the colonies; in fact, itwas never an article of extended domestic manufacture. 

A little cotton was always used in early days for stuffing bedquilts, petticoats, warriors' armor, and similar purposes. It was bought by thepound, East India cotton, in small quantities; the seeds were pickedout one by one, by hand; it was carded on wool-cards, and spun into arather intractable yarn which was used as warp for linsey-woolsey andrag carpets. Even in England no cotton weft, no all-cotton fabrics, weremade till after 1760, till Hargreave's time. Sometimes a twisted yarnwas made of one thread of cotton and one of wool which was knit intodurable stockings. Cotton sewing-thread was unknown in England. Pawtucket women named Wilkinson made the first cotton thread on theirhome spinning-wheels in 1792. 

Cotton was planted in America, Bancroft says, in 1621, but MacMasterasserts it was never seen growing here till after the Revolution save asa garden ornament with garden flowers. This assertion seems oversweepingwhen Jefferson could write in a letter in 1786:--

 "The four southermost States make a great deal of cotton. Their poor are almost entirely clothed with it in winter and summer. In winter they wear shirts of it and outer clothing of cotton and wool mixed. In summer their shirts are linen, but the outer clothing cotton. The dress of the women is almost entirely of cotton, manufactured by themselves, except the richer class, and even many of these wear a great deal of homespun cotton. It is as well manufactured as the calicoes of Europe. "

Still cotton was certainly not a staple of consequence. We were the lastto enter the list of cotton-producing countries and we have surpassedthem all. 

The difficulty of removing the seeds from the staple practically thrustcotton out of common use. In India a primitive and cumbersome set ofrollers called a churka partially cleaned India cotton. A Yankeeschoolmaster, Eli Whitney, set King Cotton on a throne by his inventionof the cotton-gin in 1792. This comparatively simple but inestimableinvention completely revolutionized cloth manufacture in England andAmerica. It also changed general commerce, industrial development, andthe social and economic order of things, for it gave new occupations andoffered new modes of life to hundreds of thousands of persons. Itentirely changed and cheapened our dress, and altered rural life both inthe North and South. 

A man could, by hand-picking, clean only about a pound of cotton a day. The cotton-gin cleaned as much in a day as had taken the hand-picker ayear to accomplish. Cotton was at once planted in vast amounts; but itcertainly was not plentiful till then. Whitney had never seen cotton norcotton seed when he began to plan his invention; nor did he, even inSavannah, find cotton to experiment with until after considerablesearch. 

After the universal manufacture and use of the cotton-gin, negro womenwove cotton in Southern houses, sometimes spinning their own cottonthread; more frequently buying it mill-spun. But, after all, this was intoo small amounts to be of importance; it needed the spinning-jenniesand power-looms of vast mills to use up the profuse supply afforded bythe gin. 

A very interesting account of the domestic manufacture of cotton inTennessee about the year 1850 was written for me by Mrs. James StuartPilcher, State Regent of the Daughters of the American Revolution inTennessee. A portion of her pleasant story reads:--

 "There were two looms in the loom-room, and two negro women were kept busy all the time weaving; there were eight or ten others who did nothing but spin cotton and woollen thread; others spooled and reeled it into hanks. The spinning was all done on the large wheel, from the raw cotton; a corn-shuck was wrapped tightly around the steel spindle, then the thread was run and spun on this shuck until it was full; then these were reeled off into hanks of thread, then spooled on to corn-cobs with holes burned through them. These were placed in an upright frame, with long slender rods of hickory wood something like a ramrod run through them. The frame held about one hundred of these cob-spools; the end of the cotton thread from each spool was gathered up by an experienced warper who carried all the threads back and forth on the large warping-bars; this was a difficult task; only the brightest negro women were warpers. The thread had been dyed before spooling and the vari-colored cob-spools could be arranged to make stripes lengthwise of the cloth; and the hanks had also been dipped in a boiling-hot sizing made of meal and water. The warp-threads were carefully taken from the bars and rolled upon the wooden beam of the loom, the ends passed through the sley and tied. The weaver then began her work. The thread for the filling (called the woof by the negroes) was reeled from the hank on the winding-blades, upon small canes about four inches long which, when full, were placed in the wooden shuttles. These women spun and wove all the clothing worn by the negroes on the plantation; cotton cloth for women and men in the summer time; and jeans for the men; linsey-woolsey for the women and children for winter. All were well clothed. The women taught us to spin, but the weavers were cross and would not let us touch the loom, for they said we broke the threads in the warp. My grandmother never interfered with them when they were careful in their work. We would say, 'Please make Aunt Rhody let me weave!' She answered, 'No, she is managing the loom; if she is willing, very well; if not, you must not worry her. ' We thought it great fun to try to weave, but generally had to pay Aunt Rhody for our meddling by giving her cake, ribbons, or candy. "

The colonists were constantly trying to find new materials for spinning, and also used many makeshifts. Parkman, in his _Old Régime_, tells thatin the year 1704, when a ship was lost that was to bring cloth and woolto Quebec, a Madame de Rèpentigny, one of the aristocrats of theFrench-Canadian colony, spun and wove coarse blankets of nettle andlinden bark. Similar experiments were made by the English colonists. Coarse thread was spun out of nettle-fibre by pioneers in western NewYork. Levi Beardsley, in his _Reminiscences_, tells of his mother at theclose of the last century, in her frontier home at Richfield Springs, weaving bags and coarse garments from the nettles which grew so ranklyeverywhere in that vicinity. Deer hair and even cow's hair was collectedfrom the tanners, spun with some wool, and woven into a sort of feltedblanket. 

Silk-grass, a much-vaunted product, was sent back to England on thefirst ships and was everywhere being experimented with. Coarse wickingwas spun from the down of the milkweed--an airy, feathery material thatalways looks as if it ought to be put to many uses, yet never has seemedof much account in any trial that has been made of it. 

CHAPTER X

HAND-WEAVING

Any one who passed through a New England village on a week day a centuryago, or rode up to the door of a Pennsylvania or Virginia house, wouldprobably be greeted with a heavy thwack-thwack from within doors, aregular sound which would readily be recognized by every one at thattime as proceeding from weaving on a hand-loom. The presence of theselooms was, perhaps, not so universal in every house as that of theirhomespun companions, the great and little wheels, for they required moreroom; but they were found in every house of any considerable size, andin many also where they seemed to fill half the building. Manyhouseholds had a loom-room, usually in an ell part of the house; othersused an attic or a shed-loft as a weaving-room. Every farmer's daughterknew how to weave as well as to spin, yet it was not recognized aswholly woman's work as was spinning; for there was a trade ofhand-weaving for men, to which they were apprenticed. Every town hadprofessional weavers. They were a universally respected class, andbecame the ancestors of many of the wealthiest and most influentialcitizens to-day. They took in yarn and thread to weave on their looms attheir own homes at so much a yard; wove their own yarn into stuffs tosell; had apprentices to their trade; and also went out working by theday at their neighbors' houses, sometimes carrying their looms manymiles with them. 

Weavers were a universally popular element of the community. Thetravelling weaver was, like all other itinerant tradesmen of the day, awelcome newsmonger; and the weaver who took in weaving was often astationary gossip, and gathered inquiring groups in his loom-room; evenchildren loved to go to his door to beg for bits of coloredyarn--thrums--which they used in their play, and also tightly braided towear as shoestrings, hair-laces, etc. 

The hand-loom used in the colonies, and occasionally still run incountry towns to-day, is an historic machine, one of great antiquity anddignity. It is, perhaps, the most absolute bequest of past centurieswhich we have had, unchanged, in domestic use till the present time. Youmay see a loom like the Yankee one shown here in Giotto's famous frescoin the Campanile, painted in 1335; another, still the same, in Hogarth's_Idle Apprentice_, painted just four hundred years later. Many tribesand nations have hand-looms resembling our own; but these are exactlylike it. Hundreds of thousands of men and women of the generations ofthese seven centuries since Giotto's day have woven on just such loomsas our grandparents had in their homes. 

This loom consists of a frame of four square timber posts, about sevenfeet high, set about as far apart as the posts of a tall four-postbedstead, and connected at top and bottom by portions of a frame. Frompost to post across one end, which may be called the back part of theloom, is the yarn-beam, about six inches in diameter. Upon it are woundthe warp-threads, which stretch in close parallels from it to thecloth-beam at the front of the loom. The cloth-beam is about ten inchesin diameter, and the cloth is wound as the weaving proceeds. 

The yarn-beam or yarn-roll or warp-beam was ever a very important partof the loom. It should be made of close-grained, well-seasoned wood. Theiron axle should be driven in before the beam is turned. If the beam isill-turned and irregular in shape, no even, perfect woof can come fromit. The slightest variation in its dimensions makes the warp run offunevenly, and the web never "sets" well, but has some loose threads. 

We have seen the homespun yarn, whether linen or woollen, left incarefully knotted skeins after being spun and cleaned, bleached, ordyed. To prepare it for use on the loom a skein is placed on the swift, an ingenious machine, a revolving cylindrical frame made of strips ofwood arranged on the principle of the lazy-tongs so the size can beincreased or diminished at pleasure, and thus take on and hold firmlyany sized skein of yarn. This cylinder is supported on a centre shaftthat revolves in a socket, and may be set in a heavy block on the flooror fastened to a table or chair. A lightly made, carved swift was afrequent lover's gift. I have a beautiful one of whale-ivory, mother-of-pearl, and fine white bone which was made on a three years'whaling voyage by a Nantucket sea-captain as a gift to his waitingbride; it has over two hundred strips of fine white carved bone. Bothquills for the weft and spools for the warp may be wound from the swiftby a quilling-wheel, small wheels of various shapes, some being like aflax-wheel, but more simple in construction. The quill or bobbin is asmall reed or quill, pierced from end to end, and when wound is set inthe recess of the shuttle. 

When the piece is to be set, a large number of shuttles and spools arefilled in advance. The full spools are then placed in a row one abovethe other in a spool-holder, sometimes called a skarne or scarne. As Ihave not found this word in any dictionary, ancient or modern, itscorrect spelling is unknown. Sylvester Judd, in his _Margaret_, spellsit skan. Skean and skayn have also been seen. Though ignored bylexicographers, it was an article and word in established and universaluse in the colonies. I have seen it in newspaper advertisements ofweavers' materials, and in inventories of weavers' estates, spelled _adlibitum_; and elderly country folk, both in the North and South, whoremember old-time weaving, know it to-day. 

It seems to me impossible to explain clearly in words, though it issimple enough in execution, the laying of the piece, the orderly placingthe warp on the warp-beam. The warping-bars are entirely detached fromthe loom, are an accessory, not a part of it. They are two upright barsof wood, each holding a number of wooden pins set at right angles tothe bars, and held together by crosspieces. Let forty full spools beplaced in the skarne, one above the other. The free ends of threads fromthe spools are gathered in the hand, and fastened to a pin at the top ofthe warping-bars. The group of threads then are carried from side toside of the bars, passing around a pin on one bar, then around a pin onthe opposite bar, to the extreme end; then back again in the same way, the spools revolving on wires and freely playing out the warp-threads, till a sufficient length of threads are stretched on the bars. Weaversof olden days could calculate exactly and skilfully the length of thethreads thus wound. You take off twenty yards of threads if you want toweave twenty yards of cloth. Forty warp-threads make what was called about or section. A warp of two hundred threads was designated as a warpof five bouts, and the bars had to be filled five times to set it unlessa larger skarne with more spools was used. From the warping-bars thesebouts are carefully wound on the warp-beam. 

Without attempting to explain farther, let us consider the yarn-beamneatly wound with these warp-threads and set in the loom--that the"warping" and "beaming" are finished. The "drawing" or "entering" comesnext; the end of each warp-thread in regular order is "thumbed" or drawnin with a warping-needle through the eye or "mail" of the harness, orheddle. 

The heddle is a row of twines, cords, or wires called leashes, which arestretched vertically between two horizontal bars or rods, placed about afoot apart. One rod is suspended by a pulley at the top of the loom; andto the lower rod is hitched the foot-treadle. In the middle of eachlength of twine or wire is the loop or eye, through which a warp-threadis passed. In ordinary weaving there are two heddles, each fastened to afoot-treadle. 

There is a removable loom attachment which when first shown to me wascalled a raddle. It is not necessary in weaving, but a convenience andhelp in preparing to weave. It is a wooden bar with a row of closelyset, fine, wooden pegs. This is placed in the loom, and used only duringthe setting of the warp to keep the warp of proper width; the pegs keepthe bouts or sections of the warp disentangled during the "thumbing in"of the threads through the heddle-eyes. This attachment is also called aravel or raivel; and folk-names for it (not in the dictionary) werewrathe and rake; the latter a very good descriptive title. 

The warp-threads next are drawn through the interspaces between twodents or strips of the sley or reed. This is done with a wire hookcalled a sley-hook or reed-hook. Two warp-threads are drawn in eachspace. 

The sley or reed is composed of a row of short and very thin parallelstrips of cane or metal, somewhat like comb-teeth, called dents, fixedat both ends closely in two long, strong, parallel bars of wood set twoor three or even four inches apart. There may be fifty or sixty of thesedents to one inch, for weaving very fine linen; usually there are abouttwenty, which gives a "bier"--a counting out of forty warp-threads toeach inch. Sleys were numbered according to the number of biers theyheld. The number of dents to an inch determined the "set of the web, "the fineness of the piece. This reed is placed in a groove on the loweredge of a heavy batten (or lay or lathe). This batten hangs by twoswords or side bars and swings from an axle or "rocking tree" at the topof the loom. As the heavy batten swings on its axle, the reed forceswith a sharp blow every newly placed thread of the weft into its properplace close to the previously woven part of the texture. This is theheavy thwacking sound heard in hand-weaving. 

On the accurate poise of the batten depends largely the evenness of thecompleted woof. If the material is heavy, the batten should be swunghigh, thus having a good sweep and much force in its blow. The battenshould be so poised as to swing back itself into place after each blow. 

The weaver, with foot on treadle, sits on a narrow, high bench, which isfastened from post to post of the loom. James Maxwell, the weaver-poet, wrote under his portrait in his _Weaver's Meditations_, printed in1756:--

 "Lo! here 'twixt Heaven and Earth I swing, And whilst the Shuttle swiftly flies, With cheerful heart I work and sing And envy none beneath the skies. "

There are three motions in hand-weaving. First: by the action of onefoot-treadle one harness or heddle, holding every alternate warp-thread, is depressed from the level of the entire expanse of warp-threads. 

The separation of the warp-threads by this depression of one harness iscalled a shed. Some elaborate patterns have six harnesses. In such apiece there are ten different sheds, or combinations of openings of thewarp-threads. In a four-harness piece there are six different sheds. 

Room is made by this shed for the shuttle, which, by the second motion, is thrown from one side of the loom to the other by the weaver's hand, and thus goes over every alternate thread. The revolving quill withinthe shuttle lets the weft-thread play out during this side-to-sidemotion of the shuttle. The shuttle must not be thrown too sharply elseit will rebound and make a slack thread in the weft. By the third motionthe batten crowds this weft-thread into place. Then the motion of theother foot-treadle forces down the other warp-threads which pass throughthe second set of harnesses, the shuttle is thrown back through thisshed, and so on. 

In order to show the amount of work, the number of separate motions in aday's work in weaving of close woollen cloth like broadcloth (which wasonly about three yards), we must remember that the shuttle was thrownover three thousand times, and the treadles pressed down and battenswung the same number of times. 

A simple but clear description of the process of weaving is given inOvid's _Metamorphoses_, thus Englished in 1724:--

 "The piece prepare And order every slender thread with care; The web enwraps the beam, the reed divides While through the widening space the shuttle glides, Which their swift hands receive, then poised with lead The swinging weight strikes close the inserted thread. "

A loom attachment which I puzzled over was a tomble or tumble, the wordbeing seen in eighteenth-century lists, etc. , yet absolutelyuntraceable. I at last inferred, and a weaver confirmed my inference, that it was a corruption of temple, an attachment made of flat, narrowstrips of wood as long as the web is wide, with hooks or pins at the endto catch into the selvage of the cloth, and keep the cloth stretchedfirmly an even width while the reed beats the weft-thread into place. 

There were many other simple yet effective attachments to the loom. Their names have been upon the lips of scores of thousands ofEnglish-speaking people, and the words are used in all treatises onweaving; yet our dictionaries are dumb and ignorant of their existence. There was the pace-weight, which kept the warp even; and the bore-staff, which tightened the warp. When a sufficient length of woof had beenwoven (it was usually a few inches), the weaver proceeded to do what wascalled drawing a bore or a sink. He shifted the temple forward; rolledup the cloth on the cloth bar, which had a crank-handle and ratchets;unwound the warp a few inches, shifted back the rods and heddles, andstarted afresh. 

Looms and their appurtenances were usually made by local carpenters; andit can plainly be seen that thus constant work was furnished to manyclasses of workmen in every community, --wood-turners, beam-makers, timber-sawyers, and others. The various parts of the looms were inunceasing demand, though apparently they never wore out. The sley wasthe most delicate part of the mechanism. Good sley-makers could alwayscommand high prices for their sleys. I have seen one whole and good, which has been in general use for weaving rag carpets ever since the Warof 1812, for which a silver dollar was paid. Spools were turned andmarked with the maker's initials. There were choice and inexplicablelines in the shape of a shuttle as there are in a boat's hull. When ashuttle was carefully shaped, scraped, hollowed out, tipped with steel, and had the maker's initials burnt in it, it was a proper piece ofwork, of which any craftsman might be proud. Apple-wood and boxwood werethe choice for shuttles. 

Smaller looms, called tape-looms, braid-looms, belt-looms, garter-looms, or "gallus-frames, " were seen in many American homes, and useful theywere in days when linen, cotton, woollen, or silk tapes, bobbins, andwebbings or ribbons were not common and cheap as to-day. Narrow bandssuch as tapes, none-so-pretty's, ribbons, caddises, ferretings, inkles, were woven on these looms for use for garters, points, glove-ties, hair-laces, shoestrings, belts, hat-bands, stay-laces, breeches-suspenders, etc. 

These tape-looms are a truly ancient form of appliance for thehand-weaving of narrow bands, --a heddle-frame. They are rudely primitivein shape, but besides serving well the colonists in all our originalstates, are still in use among the Indian tribes in New Mexico and inLapland, Italy, and northern Germany. They are scarcely more than aslightly shaped board so cut in slits that the centre of the board is arow of narrow slats. These slats are pierced in a row by means of aheated wire and the warp-threads are passed through the holes. 

A common form of braid-loom was one that was laid upon a table. A stillsimpler form was held upright on the lap, the knees being firmlypressed into semicircular indentations cut for the purpose on eitherside of the board which formed the lower part of the loom. The top ofthe loom was steadied by being tied with a band to the top of a chair, or a hook in the wall. It was such light and pretty work that it seemedmerely an industrial amusement, and girls carried their tape-looms to aneighbor's house for an afternoon's work, just as they did theirknitting-needles and ball of yarn. A fringe-loom might also beoccasionally found, for weaving decorative fringes; these were morecommon in the Hudson River valley than elsewhere. 

I have purposely given minute, but I trust not tiresome, details of theoperation of weaving on a hand-loom, because a few years more will seethe last of those who know the operation and the terms used. The factthat so many terms are now obsolete proves how quickly disuse bringsoblivion. When in a country crowded full of weavers, as was Englanduntil about 1845, the knowledge has so suddenly disappeared, need wehope for much greater memory or longer life here? When what is termedthe Westmoreland Revival of domestic industries was begun eight or tenyears ago, the greatest difficulty was found in obtaining a hand-loom. No one knew how to set it up, and it was a long time before a weavercould be found to run it and teach others its use. 

The first half of this century witnessed a vital struggle in England, and to an extent in America, between hand and power machinery, and aninteresting race between spinning and weaving. Under old-time conditionsit was calculated that it took the work of four spinners, who spunswiftly and constantly, to supply one weaver. As spinning was ever whatwas known as a by-industry, --that is, one that chiefly was done by beingcaught up at odd moments, --the supply both in England and America didnot equal the weavers' demands, and ten spinners had to be calculated tosupply yarn for one weaver. Hence weavers never had to work very hard;as a rule, they could have one holiday in the week. What with Sundays, wakes, and fairs, Irish weavers worked only two hundred days in theyear. In England the weaver often had to spend one day out of the sixhunting around the country for yarn for weft. So inventive wits were setat work to enlarge the supply of yarn, and spinning machinery was theresult. Thereafter the looms and weavers were pushed hard and had toturn to invention. The shuttle had always simply been passed from onehand to the other of the weaver on either side of the web. Thefly-shuttle was now invented, which by a simple piece of machinery, worked by one hand, threw the shuttle swiftly backward and forward, andthe loom was ahead in the race. Then came the spinning-jenny, which spunyarn with a hundred spindles on each machine. But this was for weftyarns, and did not make strong warps. Finally Arkwright supplied thislack in water-twist or "throstle-spun" yarn. All these inventions againovercrowded the weavers; all attempts at hand-spinning of cotton hadbecome quickly extinct. Wool-spinning lingered longer. Five Tomlinsonsisters, --the youngest forty years old, --with two pair of wool-cards andfive hand-wheels, paid the rent of their farm, kept three cows, onehorse, had a ploughed field, and made prime butter and eggs. One sisterclung to her spinning till 1822. Power-looms were invented to try to useup the jenny's supply of yarn, but these did not crowd out hand-looms. Weavers never had so good wages. It was the Golden Age of Cotton. Somefamilies earned six pounds a week; good clothes, even to the extent ofruffled shirts, good furniture, even to silver spoons, good food, plentiful ale and beer, entered every English cottage with the weavingof cotton and wool. A far more revolutionary and more hated machine thanthe power-loom was the combing-machine called Big Ben. 

 "Come all ye Master Combers, and hear of our Big Ben. He'll comb more wool than fifty of your men With their hand-combs, and comb-pots, and such old-fashioned way. "

Flax-spinning and linen-weaving by power machinery were slower in beingestablished. Englishmen were halting in perfecting these machines. Napoleon offered in 1810 a million francs for a flax-spinning machine. Aclever Frenchman claimed to have invented one in response in a singleday, but similar clumsy machines had then been running in England fortwenty years. By 1850 men, women, and children--combers, spinners, andweavers--were no longer individual workers; they had become part of thatgreat monster, the mill-machinery. Riots and misery were the firstresult of the passing of hand weaving and spinning. 

In the _Vision of Piers Ploughman_ (1360) are these lines:--

 "Cloth that cometh fro the wevyng Is nought comly to were Till it be fulled under foot Or in fullyng stokkes Wasshen wel with water And with taseles cracched, Y-touked and y-tented And under taillours hande. "

Just so in the colonies four centuries later, cloth that came from theweaving was not comely to wear till it was fulled under foot or infulling-stocks, washed well in water, scratched and dressed withteazels, dyed and tented, and put in the tailor's hands. Nor did theroll of centuries bring a change in the manner of proceeding. If greasehad been put on the wool when it was carded, or sizing in the warp forthe weaving, it was washed out by good rinsing from the woven cloth. This became now somewhat uneven and irregular in appearance, and full ofknots and fuzzes which were picked out with hand-tweezers by burlersbefore it was fulled or milled, as it was sometimes called. Thefulling-stocks were a trough in which an enormous oaken hammer was madeto pound up and down, while the cloth was kept thoroughly wet with warmsoap and water, or fullers' earth and water. Naturally this thickenedthe web much and reduced it in length. It was then teazelled; that is, anap or rough surface was raised all over it by scratching it withweavers' teazels or thistles. Many wire brushes and metal substituteshave been tried to take the place of nature's gift to the cloth-worker, the teazel, but nothing has been invented to replace with fullsatisfaction that wonderful scratcher. For the slender recurved bractsof the teazel heads are stiff and prickly enough to roughen thoroughlythe nap of the cloth, yet they yield at precisely the right point tokeep from injuring the fabric. 

If the cloth were to be "y-touked, " that is, dyed, it was done at thisperiod, and it was then "y-tented, " spread on the tenter-field andcaught on tenter-hooks, to shrink and dry. 

Nowadays, we sometimes cut or crop the nap with long shears, and boilthe web to give it a lustre, and ink it to color any ill-dyed fibres, and press it between hot plates before it goes to the tailor's hands;but these injurious processes were omitted in olden times. Worstedstuffs were not fulled, but were woven of hand-combed wool. 

Linen webs after they were woven had even more manipulations to come tothem than woollen stuffs. In spite of all the bleaching of the linenthread, it still was light brown in color, and it had to go through atleast twoscore other processes, of bucking, possing, rinsing, drying, and bleaching on the grass. Sometimes it was stretched out on pegs withloops sewed on the selvage edge. This bleaching was called crofting inEngland, and grassing in America. Often it was thus spread on the grassfor weeks, and was slightly wetted several times a day; but not too wet, else it would mildew. In all, over forty bleaching operations wereemployed upon "light linens. " Sometimes they were "soured" in buttermilkto make them purely white. Thus at least sixteen months had passed sincethe flaxseed had been sown, in which, truly, the spinster had not eatenthe bread of idleness. In the winter months the fine, white, stronglinen was made into "board cloths" or tablecloths, sheets, pillow-biers, aprons, shifts, shirts, petticoats, short gowns, gloves, cut from thespinner's own glove pattern, and a score of articles for household use. These were carefully marked, and sometimes embroidered with home-dyedcrewels, as were also splendid sets of bed-hangings, valances, andtesters for four-post bedsteads. 

The homespun linens that were thus spun and woven and bleached were oneof the most beautiful expressions and types of old-time home life. Firm, close-woven, and pure, their designs were not greatly varied, nor wastheir woof as symmetrical and perfect as modern linens--but thus werethe lives of those who made them; firm, close-woven in neighborlykindness, with the simplicity both of innocence and ignorance; theirdays had little variety, and life was not altogether easy, and, like theweb they wove, it was sometimes narrow. I am always touched whenhandling these homespun linens with a consciousness of nearness to themakers; with a sense of the energy and strength of those enduring womenwho were so full of vitality, of unceasing action, that it does not seemto me they can be dead. 

The strong, firm linen woven in many struggling country homes was toovaluable and too readily exchangeable and salable to be kept wholly forfarm use, especially when there were so few salable articles produced onthe farm. It was sold or more frequently exchanged at the village storefor any desired commodity, such as calico, salt, sugar, spices, or tea. It readily sold for forty-two cents a yard. Therefore the boys and eventhe fathers did not always have linen shirts to wear. From the towwhich had been hatchelled out from harl a coarse thread was spun andcloth was woven which was made chiefly into shirts and smocks and tow"tongs" or "skilts, " which were loose flapping summer trousers whichended almost half-way from the knee to the ankle. This tow stuff wasnever free from prickling spines, and it proved, so tradition states, anabsolute instrument of torture to the wearer, until frequent washingshad worn it out and thus subdued its knots and spines. 

A universal stuff woven in New Hampshire by the Scotch-Irishlinen-weavers who settled there, and who influenced husbandry anddomestic manufactures and customs all around them, was what was known asstriped frocking. It was worn also to a considerable extent inConnecticut and Massachusetts. The warp was strong white cotton or towthread, the weft of blue and white stripes made by weaving alternately ashuttleful of indigo-dyed homespun yarn and one of white wool or tow. Many boys grew to manhood never wearing, except on Sundays, any kind ofcoat save a long, loose, shapeless jacket or smock of this stripedfrocking, known everywhere as a long-short. The history of the old townof Charmingfare tells of the farmers in that vicinity tying tight thetwo corners of this long-short at the waist and thus making a sort ofloose bag in which various articles could be carried. Sylvester Judd, inhis _Margaret_, the classic of old New England life, has his countrywomen dressed also in long-shorts, and tells of the same fabric. 

Another material which was universal in country districts had a flax ortow warp, and a coarser slack-twisted cotton or tow filling. This clothwas dyed and pressed and was called fustian. It was worth a shilling ayard in 1640. It was named in the earliest colonial accounts, and was intruth the ancient fustian, worn throughout Europe in the Middle Ages formonks' robes and laborers' dress, not the stuff to-day called fustian. We read in _The Squier of Low Degree_, "Your blanketts shall be offustayne. "

Another coarse cloth made in New England, Pennsylvania, Virginia, andthe Carolinas was crocus. The stuff is obsolete and the name isforgotten save in a folk-saying which lingers in Virginia--"as coarse ascrocus. " Homespun stuff for the wear of negroes was known and sold as"Virginia cloth. " Vast quantities of homespun cloth was made onVirginian plantations, thousands of yards annually at Mount Vernon forslave-wear, and for the house-mistress as well. 

It is told of Martha Washington that she always carefully dyed all herworn silk gowns and silk scraps to a desired shade, ravelled them withcare, wound them on bobbins, and had them woven into chair andcushion covers. Sometimes she changed the order of things. To a group ofvisitors she at one time displayed a dress of red and white stripedmaterial of which the white stripes were cotton, and the red, ravelledchair covers and silk from the General's worn-out stockings. 

Checked linen, with bars of red or blue, was much used for bedticks, pillow-cases, towelling, aprons, and even shirts and summer trousers. Inall the Dutch communities in New York it was woven till this century. When Benjamin Tappan first attended meeting in Northampton, Massachusetts, in 1769, he was surprised to find that all the men in thechurch but four or five wore checked shirts. Worcester County men alwayswore white shirts, and deemed a checked shirt the mark of a ConnecticutRiver man. 

It is impossible to overestimate the durability of homespun materials. Ihave "flannel sheets" a hundred years old, the lightest, most healthful, and agreeable summer covering for children's beds that ever any one wasblessed with. Cradle sheets of this thin, closely woven, white worstedstuff are not slimsy like thin flannel, yet are softer than flannel. Years of use with many generations of children have left them firm andwhite. 

Grain-bags have been seen that have been in constant and hard use forseventy years, homespun from coarse flax and hemp. I have severaldelightful bags about four feet long and two feet wide, of ratherclosely woven pure white homespun linen, not as heavy, however, ascrash. They have the date of their manufacture, 1789, and the initialsof the weaver, and have linen tapes woven in at each side. They are usedevery spring--packed with furs and blankets and placed in cedar chests, and with such usage will easily round out another century. 

The product of these hand-looms which has lingered longest in countryuse, especially in the Northern states, and which is the sole product ofall the hand-looms that I know to be set up and in use in New England(except one notable example to which I will refer hereafter), is the ragcarpet. It is still in constant demand and esteem on farms and in smallvillages and towns, and is an economical and thrifty, and may be acomely floor-covering. The accompanying illustration of a woman weavingrag carpet on an old hand-loom is from a fine photograph taken by Mrs. Arthur Sewall of Bath, Maine, and gives an excellent presentment of themachine and the process. 

The warp of these carpets was, in olden times, a strong, heavy flaxenthread. To-day it is a heavy cotton twine bought machine-spun in ballsor hanks. The weft or rilling is narrow strips of all the clean andvari-colored rags that accumulate in a household. 

The preparing of this filling requires considerable judgment. Heavywoollen cloth should be cut in strips about half an inch wide. If therewere sewn with these strips of light cotton stuff of equal width, thecarpet would prove a poor thing, heavy in spots and slimsy in others. Hence lighter stuffs should be cut in wider strips, as they can then becrowded down by the batten of the loom to the same width and substanceas the heavy wools. Calicoes, cottons, all-wool delaines, and liningcambrics should be cut in strips at least an inch wide. These strips, ofwhatever length they chance to be, are sewn into one continuous strip, which is rolled into a hard ball weighing about a pound and a quarter. It is calculated that one of these balls will weave about a yard ofcarpeting. The joining must be strongly and neatly done and should notbe bunchy. An aged weaver who had woven many thousand yards of carpetingassured me the prettiest carpets were always those in which everyalternate strip was white or very light in color. Another thrifty way ofusing old material is the cutting into inch-wide strips of woven ingrainor three-ply carpet. This, through the cotton warp, makes a reallyartistic monochrome floor-covering. 

In one of the most romantic and beautiful spots in old Narragansettlives the last of the old-time weavers; not a weaver who desultorilyweaves a run of rag carpeting to earn a little money in the intervals ofother work, or to please some importunate woman-neighbor who has savedup her rags; but a weaver whose lifelong occupation, whose only means oflivelihood, has always been, and is still, hand-weaving. I have told hisstory at some length in my book, _Old Narragansett_, --of his kin, hislife, his work. His home is at the cross-roads where three townshipsmeet, a cross-roads where has often taken place that curious andsenseless survival of old-time tradition and superstition--shiftmarriages. A widow, a cousin of the Weaver Rose's father, was the lastto undergo this ordeal; clad only in her shift, she thrice crossed theKing's Highway and was thus married to avoid payment of her firsthusband's debts. It is not far from the old Church Foundation of St. Paul's of Narragansett, and the tumble-down house of Sexton Martin Read, the prince of Narragansett weavers in ante-Revolutionary days. WeaverRose learned to weave from his grandfather, who was an apprentice ofWeaver Read. 

In the loom-room of Weaver Rose a veritable atmosphere of the past stilllingers. Everything appertaining to the manufacture of homespunmaterials may there be found. Wheels, skarnes, sleys, warping-bars, clock-reels, swifts, quilling-wheels, vast bales of yarns andthread--for he no longer spins his thread and yarn. There are piles ofold and new bed coverlets woven in those fanciful geometric designs, which are just as the ancient Gauls wove them in the Bronze Age, andwhich formed a favorite bed-covering of our ancestors, and of countryfolk to-day. These coverlets the weaver calls by the good old Englishname of hap-harlot, a name now obsolete in England, which I have neverseen used in text of later date than Holinshead's _Survey of London_, written four hundred years ago. His manuscript pattern-book is over ahundred years old, and has the rules for setting the harnesses. Theybear many pretty and odd names, such as "Rosy Walk, " "BaltimoreBeauty, " "Girl's Love, " "Queen's Fancy, " "Devil's Fancy, " "Everybody'sBeauty, " "Four Snow Balls, " "Five Snow Balls, " "Bricks and Blocks, ""Gardener's Note, " "Green Vails, " "Rose in Bloom, " "Pansies and Roses inthe Wilderness, " "Flag-Work, " "Royal Beauty, " "Indian March, " "Troy'sBeauty, " "Primrose and Diamonds, " "Crown and Diamonds, " "Jay's Fancy, ""In Summer and Winter, " "Boston Beauty, " and "Indian War. " One named"Bony Part's March" was very pretty, as was "Orange Peel, " and "OrangeTrees"; "Dog Tracks" was even checkerwork, "Blazing Star, " aherring-bone design. "Perry's Victory" and "Lady Washington's Delight"show probably the date of their invention, and were handsome designs, while the "Whig Rose from Georgia, " which had been given to the weaverby an old lady a hundred years old, had proved a poor and ugly thing. "Kapa's Diaper" was a complicated design which took "five harnesses" tomake. "Rattlesnake's Trail, " "Wheels of Fancy, " "Chariot Wheels andChurch Windows, " and "Bachelor's Fancy" were all exceptionally finedesigns. 

Sometimes extremely elaborate patterns were woven in earlier days. Anexquisitely woven coverlet as fine as linen sheeting, a corner of whichis here shown, has an elaborate border of patriotic and Masonicemblems, patriotic inscriptions, and the name of the maker, a Red Hook, Hudson valley, dame of a century ago, who wove this beautiful bedspreadas the crowning treasure of her bridal outfit. The "setting-up" of sucha design as this is entirely beyond my skill as a weaver to explain oreven comprehend. But it is evident that the border must have been wovenby taking up a single warp-thread at a time, with a wire needle, not bypassing a shuttle, as it is far too complicated and varied for anytreadle-harness to be able to make a shed for a shuttle. 

Hand-weaving in Weaver Rose's loom-room to-day is much simplified inmany of its preparatory details by the employment of machine-madematerials. The shuttles and spools are made by machinery; and moreimportant still, both warp and weft is purchased ready-spun from mills. The warp is simply a stout cotton twine or coarse thread bought in ballsor hanks; while various cheap mill-yarns or what is known as worsteds orcoarse crewels are used as filling. These, of course, are cheap, butalas! are dyed with fleeting or garish aniline dyes. No new blue yarncan equal either in color or durability the old indigo-dyed, homespun, hard-twisted yarn made on a spinning-wheel. Germantown, early in thefield in American wool manufacture, still supplies nearly all the yarnfor his hand-looms. 

The transition half a century or more ago from what Horace Bushnellcalled "mother and daughter power to water and steam power, " was acomplete revolution in domestic life, and indeed of social manners aswell. When a people spin and weave and make their own dress, you have inthis very fact the assurance that they are home-bred, home-living, home-loving people. You are sure, also, that the lives of the women arehome-centred. The chief cause for women's intercourse with any of theoutside world except neighborly acquaintance, her chief knowledge oftrade and exchange, is in shopping, dressmaking, etc. These causesscarcely existed in country communities a century ago. The daughters whoin our days of factories leave the farm for the cotton-mill, where theyperform but one of the many operations in cloth manufacture, can neverbe as good home-makers or as helpful mates as the homespun girls of ourgrandmothers' days; nor can they be such co-workers in great publicmovements. 

In the summer of 1775, when all the preparations for the War of theRevolution were in a most unsettled and depressing condition, especiallythe supplies for the Continental army, the Provincial Congress made ademand on the people for thirteen thousand warm coats to be ready forthe soldiers by cold weather. There were no great contractors then asnow to supply the cloth and make the garments, but by hundreds ofhearthstones throughout the country wool-wheels and hand-looms werestarted eagerly at work, and the order was filled by the handiwork ofpatriotic American women. In the record book of some New England townsmay still be found the lists of the coat-makers. In the inside of eachcoat was sewed the name of the town and the maker. Every soldiervolunteering for eight months' service was given one of these homespun, home-made, all-wool coats as a bounty. So highly were these "BountyCoats" prized, that the heirs of soldiers who were killed at Bunker Hillbefore receiving their coats were given a sum of money instead. The listof names of soldiers who then enlisted is known to this day as the "CoatRoll, " and the names of the women who made the coats might form anotherroll of honor. The English sneeringly called Washington's army the"Homespuns. " It was a truthful nickname, but there was deeper power inthe title than the English scoffers knew. 

The starting up of power-looms and the wonderful growth of woollenmanufacture did not crowd out homespun as speedily in America as inEngland. When the poet Whittier set out from the Quaker farmhouse to goto Boston to seek his fortune, he wore a homespun suit every part ofwhich, even the horn buttons, was of domestic manufacture. Many a manborn since Whittier has grown to manhood clothed for every-day wearwholly with homespun; and many a boy is living who was sent to collegedressed wholly in a "full-cloth" suit, with horn buttons or buttons madeof discs of heavy leather. 

During the Civil War spinning and weaving were revived arts in theConfederate cities; and, as ever in earlier days, proved a most valuableeconomic resource under restricted conditions. In the home of a friendin Charleston, South Carolina, an old, worm-eaten loom was found in agarret where it had lain since the embargo in 1812. It was set up in1863, and plantation carpenters made many like it for neighbors andfellow-citizens. All women in the mountain districts knew how to use theloom, and taught weaving to many others, both white and black. A portionof the warp, which was cotton, was spun at home; more was bought from acotton-factory. My friend sacrificed a great number of excellentwool-mattresses; this wool was spun into yarn and used for weft, andformed a most grateful and dignified addition to the varied, grotesque, and interesting makeshifts of the wardrobe of the Southern Confederacy. 

Though weaving on hand-looms in our Northern and Middle states ispractically extinct, save as to the weaving of rag carpets (and thatonly in few communities), in the South all is different. In all themountain and remote regions of Kentucky, Tennessee, Georgia, theCarolinas, and I doubt not in Alabama, both among the white and negromountain-dwellers, hand-weaving is still a household art. Thedescendants of the Acadians in Louisiana still weave and wear homespun. The missions in the mountains encourage spinning and weaving; and it ispleasant to learn that many women not only pursue these handicrafts fortheir home use, but some secure a good living by hand-weaving, earningten cents a yard in weaving rag carpets. The coverlet patterns resemblethe ones already described. Names from Waynesville, North Carolina, are"Washington's Diamond Ring, " "Nine Chariot Wheels"; from Pinehurst come"Flowery Vine, " "Double Table, " "Cat Track, " "Snow Ball and Dew Drop, ""Snake Shed, " "Flowers in the Mountains. " At Pinehurst the old settlers, of sturdy Scotch stock, all weave. They make cloth, all cotton; cloth ofcotton warp and wool filling called drugget; dimity, a heavy cotton usedfor coverlets; a yarn jean which has wool warp and filling, and cottonjean which is cotton warp and wool filling; homespun is a heavy cloth, of cotton and wool mixed. All buy cotton warp or "chain, " as they callit, ready-spun from the mills. This is known by the name ofbunch-thread. These Pinehurst weavers still use home-made dyes. Cottonis dyed black with dye made by steeping the bark of the "Black Jack" orscrub-oak mixed with red maple bark. Wool is dyed black with a mixtureof gall-berry leaves and sumac berries; for red they use a moss whichthey find growing on the rocks, and which may be the lichen _Roccellatinctoria_ or dyer's-moss; also madder root, and sassafras bark. Yellowis dyed with laurel leaves, or "dye-flower, " a yellow flower of thesunflower tribe; laurel leaves and "dye-flower" together madeorange-red. Blue is obtained from the plentiful wild indigo; and forgreen, the cloth or yarn is first dyed blue with indigo, then boiled ina decoction of hickory bark and laurel leaves. A bright yellow isobtained from a clay which abounds in that neighborhood, probably like ared ferruginous limestone found in Tennessee, which gives a splendid, fast color; when the clay is baked and ground it gives a fine, artistic, dull red. Purple dye comes from cedar tops and lilac leaves; brown froman extract of walnut hulls. 

The affectionate regard which all good workmen have for their tools andimplements in handcrafts is found among these Southern weavers. Oneassures me that her love for her loom is as for a human companion. Themachines are usually family heirlooms that have been owned for severalgenerations, and are treasured like relics. 

CHAPTER XI

GIRLS' OCCUPATIONS

Hatchelling and carding, spinning and reeling, weaving and bleaching, cooking, candle and cheese making, were not the only householdoccupations of our busy grandmothers when they were young; a score ofdomestic duties kept ever busy their ready hands. 

Some notion of the qualifications of a housekeeper over a century agomay be obtained from this advertisement in the _Pennsylvania Packet_ ofSeptember 23, 1780:

 "Wanted at a Seat about half a day's journey from Philadelphia, on which are good improvements and domestics, A single Woman of unsullied Reputation, an affable, cheerful, active and amiable Disposition; cleanly, industrious, perfectly qualified to direct and manage the female Concerns of country business, as raising small stock, dairying, marketing, combing, carding, spinning, knitting, sewing, pickling, preserving, etc. , and occasionally to instruct two young Ladies in those Branches of Oeconomy, who, with their father, compose the Family. Such a person will be treated with respect and esteem, and meet with every encouragement due to such a character. "

Respect and esteem, forsooth! and due encouragement to such a miracle ofsaintliness and capacity; light terms indeed to apply to such acharacter. 

There is, in the library of the Connecticut Historical Society, a diarywritten by a young girl of Colchester, Connecticut, in the year 1775. Her name was Abigail Foote. She set down her daily work, and the entriesrun like this:--

 "Fix'd gown for Prude, --Mend Mother's Riding-hood, --Spun short thread, --Fix'd two gowns for Welsh's girls, --Carded tow, --Spun linen, --Worked on Cheese-basket, --Hatchel'd flax with Hannah, we did 51 lbs. Apiece, --Pleated and ironed, --Read a Sermon of Doddridge's, --Spooled a piece, --Milked the cows, --Spun linen, did 50 knots, --Made a Broom of Guinea wheat straw, --Spun thread to whiten, --Set a Red dye, --Had two Scholars from Mrs. Taylor's, --I carded two pounds of whole wool and felt Nationly, --Spun harness twine, --Scoured the pewter. "

She tells also of washing, cooking, knitting, weeding the garden, picking geese, etc. , and of many visits to her friends. She dippedcandles in the spring, and made soap in the autumn. This latter was atrying and burdensome domestic duty, but the soft soap was important forhome use. 

All the refuse grease from cooking, butchering, etc. , was stored throughthe winter, as well as wood-ashes from the great fireplaces. The firstoperation was to make the lye, to "set the leach. " Many families owned astrongly made leach-barrel; others made a sort of barrel from a sectionof the bark of the white birch. This barrel was placed on bricks or setat a slight angle on a circular groove in a wood or stone base; thenfilled with ashes; water was poured in till the lye trickled or leachedout through an outlet cut in the groove, into a small wooden tub orbucket. The water and ashes were frequently replenished as they wasted, and the lye accumulated in a large tub or kettle. If the lye was notstrong enough, it was poured over fresh ashes. An old-time receiptsays:--

 "The great Difficulty in making Soap come is the want of Judgment of the Strength of the Lye. If your Lye will bear up an Egg or a Potato so you can see a piece of the Surface as big as a Ninepence it is just strong enough. "

The grease and lye were then boiled together in a great pot over a fireout of doors. It took about six bushels of ashes and twenty-four poundsof grease to make a barrel of soap. The soft soap made by this processseemed like a clean jelly, and showed no trace of the repulsive greasethat helped to form it. A hard soap also was made with the tallow of thebayberry, and was deemed especially desirable for toilet use. But littlehard soap was purchased, even in city homes. 

It was a common saying: "We had bad luck with our soap, " or good luck. The soap was always carefully stirred one way. The "Pennsylvania Dutch"used a sassafras stick to stir it. A good smart worker could make abarrel of soap in a day, and have time to sit and rest in the afternoonand talk her luck over, before getting supper. 

This soft soap was used in the great monthly washings which, for acentury after the settlement of the colonies, seem to have been thecustom. The household wash was allowed to accumulate, and the washingdone once a month, or in some households once in three months. 

Thomas Tusser's rhymed instructions to good housekeepers as to thewashing contain chiefly warnings to the housekeeper against thieves, thus:--

 "Dry sun, dry wind, Safe bind, safe find. Go wash well, saith summer, with sun I shall dry; Go wring well, saith winter, with wind so shall I. To trust without heed is to venture a joint, Give tale and take count is a housewifely point. "

Abigail Foote wrote of making a broom of Guinea wheat. This was notbroom-corn, for that useful plant was not grown in Connecticut for thepurpose of broom-making till twenty years or more after she wrote herdiary. Brooms and brushes were made of it in Italy nearly two centuriesago. Benjamin Franklin, who was ever quick to use and develop anythingthat would benefit his native country, and was ever ready to take ahint, noted a few seeds of broom-corn hanging on an imported brush. Heplanted these seeds and raised some of the corn; and Thomas Jeffersonplaced broom-corn among the productions of Virginia in 1781. By thistime many had planted it, but no systematic plan of raising broom-cornabundantly for the manufacture of brooms was planned till 1798, whenLevi Dickenson, a Yankee farmer of Hadley, Massachusetts, planted halfan acre. From this he made between one and two hundred brooms which hepeddled in a horse-cart in neighboring towns. The following year heplanted an acre; and the tall broom-corn with its spreading paniclesattracted much attention. Though he was thought visionary when hepredicted that broom manufacture would be the greatest industry in thecounty, and though he was sneeringly told that only Indians ought tomake brooms, he persevered; and his neighbors finally planted and madebrooms also. He carried brooms soon to Pittsfield, to New London, and in1805 to Albany and Boston. So rapid was the increase of manufacture thatin 1810 seventy thousand brooms were made in the county. Since thenmillions of dollars' worth have gone forth from the farms and villagesin his neighborhood. 

Mr. Dickenson at first scraped the seed from the brush with a knife;then he used a sort of hoe; then a coarse comb like a ripple-comb. Hetied each broom by hand, with the help of a negro servant. Much of thiswork could be done by little girls, who soon gave great help in broommanufacture; though the final sewing (when the needle was pressedthrough with a leather "palm" such as sailors use) had to be done by thestrong hands of grown women and men. 

Doubtless Abigail Foote made many an "Indian broom, " as well as herbrooms of Guinea wheat, which may have been a special home manufactureof her neighborhood; for many fibres, leaves, and straws were usedlocally in broom-making. 

Another duty of the women of the old-time household was the picking ofdomestic geese. Geese were raised for their feathers more than as food. In some towns every family had a flock, and their clanking was heard allday and sometimes all night. They roamed the streets all summer, eatinggrass by the highways and wallowing in the puddles. Sometimes they wereyoked with a goose-yoke made of a shingle with a hole in it. Inmidwinter they were kept in barnyards, but the rest of the year theyspent the night in the street, each flock near the home of its owner. Itis said that one old goose of each flock always kept awake and stoodwatch; and it was told in Hadley, Massachusetts, that if a young manchanced to be out late, as for instance a-courting, his return homewakened the geese throughout the village, who sounded the unseasonablehour with a terrible clamor. They made so much noise on summer Sundaysthat they seriously disturbed church services; and became such nuisancesthat at last the boys killed whole flocks. 

Goose-picking was cruel work. Three or four times a year were thefeathers stripped from the live birds. A stocking was pulled over thebird's head to keep it from biting. Sometimes the head was thrust into agoose basket. The pickers had to wear old clothes and tie covers overthe hair, as the down flew everywhere. The quills, used for pens, werenever pulled but once from a goose. Palladius, _On Husbondrie_, writtenin the fourth century, and Englished in the fifteenth century, tells ofgoose-picking:--

 "Twice a yere deplumed may they be, In spryngen tyme and harvest tyme. "

The old Latin and English times for picking were followed in the NewWorld. Among the Dutch, geese were everywhere raised; for feather-bedswere, if possible, more desired by the Dutch than the English. 

In a work entitled _Good Order established in Pennsylvania and NewJersey_, written by a Quaker in 1685, he urges that schools be providedwhere girls could be instructed in "the spinning of flax, sewing, andmaking all sorts of useful needle work, knitting of gloves andstockings, making of straw-works, as hats, baskets, etc. , or any otheruseful art or mystery. " It was a century before his "making ofstraw-works" was carried out, not till larger importations of straw hatsand bonnets came to this country. 

When the beautiful and intricate straw bonnets of Italian braid, Genoese, Leghorn, and others, were brought here, they were too costlyfor many to purchase; and many attempts, especially by country-bredgirls, were made to plait at home straw braids to imitate these enviedbonnets. Many towns claim the first American straw bonnet; in fact, theattempts were almost simultaneous. To Betsey Metcalf of Providence, Rhode Island, is usually accorded the honor of starting the straw-hatbusiness in America. The earliest recorded effort to manufacture strawhead-wear is shown in a patent given to Mrs. Sibylla Masters ofPhiladelphia, for using palmetto and straw for hats. This Mrs. Masterswas the first American, man or woman, ever awarded a patent in England. The first patent issued by the United States to a woman was also for aninvention in straw-plaiting. A Connecticut girl, Miss Sophia Woodhouse, was given a prize for "leghorn hats" which she had plaited; and she tookout a patent in 1821 for a new material for bonnets. It was the stalks, above the upper joint, of spear-grass and redtop grass growing soprofusely in Weathersfield. From this she had a national reputation, and a prize of twenty guineas was given her the same year by the LondonSociety of Arts. The wife of President John Quincy Adams wore one ofthese bonnets, to the great pride of her husband. 

When the bonnet was braided and sewed into shape, it had to be bleached, for it was the dark natural straw. I don't know the domestic process ingeneral use, but an ingenious family of sisters in Newburyport thusaccomplished their bleaching. They bored holes in the head of a barrel;tied strings to each new bonnet; passed the strings through the holesand carefully plugged the openings with wood. This left the bonnetshanging inside the barrel, which was set over an old-fashionedfoot-stove filled with hot coals on which sulphur had been placed. Thefumes of the burning sulphur arose and filled the barrel, and wereclosely retained by quilts wrapped around it. When the bonnets weretaken out, they were clear and white. The base of a lignum-vitæ mortarmade into the proper shape with layers of pasteboard formed the mould onwhich the bonnet crown was pressed. 

Even before they could spin girls were taught to knit, as soon as theirlittle hands could hold the needles. Sometimes girls four years of agecould knit stockings. Boys had to knit their own suspenders. All thestockings and mittens for the family, and coarse socks and mittens forsale, were made in large numbers. Much fine knitting was done, with manyintricate and elaborate stitches; those known as the "herring-bone" and"fox and geese" were great favorites. By the use of curious stitchesinitials could be knit into mittens; and it is said that one young NewHampshire girl, using fine flaxen yarn, knit the whole alphabet and averse of poetry into a pair of mittens; which I think must have beenlong-armed mitts for ladies' wear, to have space enough for the poetry. 

To knit a pair of double mittens was a sharp and long day's work. NancyPeabody's brother of Shelburne, New Hampshire, came home one night andsaid he had lost his mittens while chopping in the woods. Nancy ran to abundle of wool in the garret, carded and spun a big hank of yarn thatnight. It was soaked and scoured the next morning, and in twenty-fourhours from the time the brother announced his loss he had a fine newpair of double mittens. A pair of double hooked and pegged mittens wouldlast for years. Pegging, I am told, was heavy crocheting. 

An elaborate and much-admired form of knitting was the bead bags andpurses which were so fashionable in the early years of this century, though I have seen some knitted bags of colonial days. 

Great variety and ingenuity were shown in these bags and purses. Somebore landscapes and figures; others were memorials done in black andwhite and purple beads, having so-called "mourning designs, " such asweeping willows, gravestones, urns, etc. , with the name of the deceasedperson and date of death. Beautiful bags were knitted to matchwedding-gowns. Knitted purses were a favorite token and gift from fairhands to husband or lover. Watch chains were more unusual; they wereknit in a geometrical design, were about a yard long and aboutthree-eighths of an inch in diameter. One I saw had in tiny letters ingilt beads the date and the words "Remember the Giver. " In all theseknitted and crocheted bags the beads had to be strung by a rule inadvance; in an elaborate pattern of many colors it may easily be seenthat the mistake of a single bead in the stringing would spoil theentire design. They were therefore never a cheap form of decorativework. Five dollars was often paid for knitting a single bag. A variedgroup from the collection of Mr. J. Howard Swift of Chicago is hereshown. 

Netting was another decorative handiwork. Netted fringes for edging thecoverlets, curtains, testers, and valances of high-post bedsteadswere usually made of cotton thread or twine, and when tufted ortasselled were a pretty finish. A finer silk or cotton netting was usedfor trimming sacks and petticoats. A letter written by Mrs. Carringtonfrom Mount Vernon in 1799 says of Mrs. President Washington:--

 "Her netting is a source of great amusement to her and is so neatly done that all the younger part of the family are proud of trimming their dresses with it, and have furnished me with a whole suit so that I shall appear 'a la domestique' at the first party we have when I get home. "

Netted purses and work-bags also were made similar to the knitted ones. A homelier and heavier netting of twine was often done at home for smallfishing-nets. 

Previous to the Revolution there was a boarding-school kept inPhiladelphia in Second Street near Walnut, by a Mrs. Sarah Wilson. Shethus advertised:--

 "Young ladies may be educated in a genteel manner, and pains taken to teach them in regard to their behaviour, on reasonable terms. They may be taught all sorts fine needlework, viz. , working on catgut or flowering muslin, sattin stitch, quince stitch, tent stitch, cross-stitch, open work, tambour, embroidering curtains or chairs, writing and cyphering. Likewise waxwork in all its several branches, never as yet particularly taught here; also how to take profiles in wax, to make wax flowers and fruits and pin-baskets. "

There was no limit to the beauty and delicacy of the embroidery of thosedays. I have seen the beautiful needlework cap and skirt worn byGovernor Thomas Johnson of Maryland, when he was christened. The coat ofarms of both the Lux and Johnson families, the name Agnes Lux and AnneJohnson, and the words "God bless the Babe" are embroidered upon them inmost delicate fairy stitches. The babe grew up to be the governor of hisstate in Revolutionary times. 

In an old book printed in 1821, a set of rules is given for teachingneedlework, and it is doubtless exactly what had been the method for acentury. The girls were first shown how to turn a hem on a piece ofwaste paper; then they proceeded to the various stitches in this order:to hem, to sew and fell a seam, to draw threads and hemstitch, to gatherand sew on gathers, to make buttonholes, to sew on buttons, to doherring-bone stitch, to darn, to mark, to tuck, whip, and sew on afrill. There is also a long and tedious set of questions and answerslike a catechism, explaining the various stitches. 

There was one piece of needlework which was done by every little girlwho was carefully brought up: she sewed a sampler. These were worked invarious beautiful and difficult stitches in colored silks and wool on astrong, loosely woven canvas. 

In English collections, the oblong samplers, long and narrow, are as arule older than the square samplers; and it is safe to believe the sameof American samplers. Fortunately, many of them are dated, but thisancient one from the Quincy family has no date. The oldest sampler Ihave ever seen is in the collection of antique articles now in PilgrimHall at Plymouth. It was made by a daughter of the Pilgrims. The verseembroidered on it reads:--

 "Lorea Standish is My Name. Lord Guide my Heart that I may do thy Will, And fill my Hands with such convenient skill As will conduce to Virtue void of Shame, And I will give the Glory to thy Name. "

Similar verses, and portions of hymns, are often found on thesesamplers. A favorite rhyme was:--

 "When I was young and in my Prime, You see how well I spent my Time. And by my sampler you may see What care my Parents took of me. "

A very spirited verse is:--

 "You'll mend your life to-morrow still you cry. In what far Country does To-morrow lie? It stays so long, is fetch'd so far, I fear 'Twill prove both very old, and very dear. "

Strange trees and fruits and birds and beasts, wonderful vines andflowers, were embroidered on these domestic tapestries. 

In the hands of a skilful worker, the sampler might become a thing ofbeauty and historical interest; and the stitches learned and practisedon it might be used on more ambitious pieces of work, which often tookthe shape of the family coat of arms. Such was the work of Mary Salter(Mrs. Henry Quincy), who was born in 1726, and died in 1755. It is thearms of Salter and Bryan party per pale upon a shield. Rich in embossedwork in gold and silver thread, it is a beautiful testimonial to thedeft and proficient hand of the young needlewoman who embroidered it. 

Sometimes pretentious pictures representing events in public or familyhistory, were embroidered in crewels on sampler linen. The largest andfunniest one I have ever seen was the boarding-school climax of gloryof Miss Hannah Otis, sister of the patriot James Otis. It is a view ofthe Hancock House, Boston Common, and vicinity, as they appeared from1755 to 1760. Across its expanse Governor Hancock rides triumphantly;and the fair maid looking over the garden wall at the Charles River isDorothy Quincy, afterwards Madam Hancock. This triumph of school-girlaffection and needle-craft, wholly devoid of perspective or proportion, made a great sensation in Boston, in its day. 

Another large piece of similar work is here represented. The original isin the library of the American Antiquarian Society at Worcester, Massachusetts. It is a view of the Old South Church, Boston; and withits hooped dames and coach and footman, has a certain value asindicating the costume of the times. It is dated 1756. 

Familiar to the descendants of old New England families, are theembroidered mourning pieces. These are seldom more than a century old. On them weeping willows and urns, tombs and mourning figures, names ofdeparted friends with dates of their deaths, and epitaphs were workedwith vast skill, and were so much admired and were such a delightfulhome decoration, that it is no unusual thing to find these elaboratememento moris with empty spaces for names and dates, waiting for someone to die, and still unfilled, unfinished, blankly commemorative of noone, while the industrious embroiderer has long since gone to the tombshe so deftly and eagerly pictured, and her name, too, is forgotten. 

Tambour work was a favorite form of embroidery. In 1788 Madam Hesseliuswrote thus in jest of her daughter, a Philadelphia miss:--

 "To tambour on crape she has a great passion, Because here of late it has been much the fashion. The shades are dis-sorted, the spangles are scattered And for want of due care the crape has got tattered. "

Tambouring with various stitches on different kinds of net made prettylaces; and these were apparently the laces usually worked and worn. Inthe form of rich veils and collars scores of intricate and beautifulstitches were used, and exquisite articles of wear were manufactured. 

A strip of net footing pinned and sewn to paper, with reels of finelinen thread and threaded needle attached, is shown in the accompanyingillustration just as it was left by the deft and industrious hands thathave been folded for a century in the dust. The pattern and stitches inthis design are simple; the design was first pricked in outline with apin, then worked in. Other stitches and patterns, none of them the mostelaborate and difficult, are shown in the infant's cap and collars, andthe strips of lace and "modesty-piece. "

In the seventeenth century lace-making with bobbins was taught; it isreferred to in Judge Sewall's diary; and a friend has shown me thecushion and bobbins used by her far-away grandmother who learned thevarious stitches in London at a guinea a stitch. 

The feminine love of color, the longing for decoration, as well as pridein skill of needle-craft, found riotous expansion in quilt-piecing. Athrifty economy, too, a desire to use up all the fragments and bits ofstuffs which were necessarily cut out in the shaping, chiefly of women'sand children's garments, helped to make the patchwork a satisfaction. The amount of labor, of careful fitting, neat piecing, and elaboratequilting, the thousands of stitches that went into one of thesepatchwork quilts, are to-day almost painful to regard. Women revelled inintricate and difficult patchwork; they eagerly exchanged patterns withone another; they talked over the designs, and admired pretty bits ofcalico, and pondered what combinations to make, with far more zest thanwomen ever discuss art or examine high art specimens together to-day. There was one satisfactory condition in the work, and that was thequality of the cottons and linens of which the patchwork was made. Theywere none of the slimsy, composition-filled, aniline-dyed calicoes ofto-day. A piece of "chaney, " "patch, " or "copper-plate" a hundred yearsold will be as fresh to-day as when woven. Real India chintzes andpalampours are found in these quilts, beautiful and artistic stuffs, andthe firm, unyielding, high-priced, "real" French calicoes. 

A sense of the idealization of quilt-piecing is given also by the quaintdescriptive names applied to the various patterns. Of those the"Rising-sun, " "Log Cabin, " and "Job's Trouble" are perhaps the mostfamiliar. "Job's Trouble" was simply honeycomb or hexagonal blocks. "Toset a Job's Trouble, " was to cut out an exact hexagon for a pattern(preferably from tin, otherwise from firm cardboard); to cut out fromthis many hexagons in stiff brown paper or letter paper. These werecovered with the bits of calico with the edges turned under; the sideswere sewed carefully together over and over, till a firm expansepermitted the removal of the papers. 

The name of the pattern seldom gave an expression of its character. "Dove in the Window, " "Rob Peter to Pay Paul, " "Blue Brigade, ""Fan-mill, " "Crow's Foot, " "Chinese Puzzle, " "Fly-wheel, " "Love-knot, ""Sugar-bowl, " are simply whims of fancy. Floral names, such as "DutchTulip, " "Sunflower, " "Rose of Sharon, " "Bluebells, " "World's Rose, "might suggest a love of flowers. Sometimes designs are appliqued on withsome regard for coloring. I once saw a quilt that was a miracle oftedious work. The squares of white cotton each held a slender stem withtwo leaves of green or light brown calico, surmounted by a four-petalledflower of high-colored calico, --pink, red, blue, etc. This design wasall carefully hemmed down. The effect was surprisingly Oriental. 

When the patchwork was completed, it was laid flatly on the lining(often another expanse of patchwork), with layers of wool or cottonwadding between, and the edges were basted all around. Four bars ofwood, about ten feet long, "the quiltin'-frame, " were placed at the fouredges, the quilt was sewed to them with stout thread, the bars crossedand tied firmly at corners, and the whole raised on chairs or tables toa convenient height. Thus around the outstretched quilt a dozen quilterscould sit running the whole together with fanciful set designs ofstitching. When about a foot on either side was wholly quilted, it wasrolled upon its bar, and the work went on; thus the visible quiltdiminished, like Balzac's Peau de Chagrin, in a united and trulysociable work that required no special attention, in which all werefacing together and all drawing closer together as the afternoon passedin intimate gossip. Sometimes several quilts were set up. I know of aten days' quilting-bee in Narragansett in 1752. 

In early days calicoes were not common, but every one had woollengarments and pieces, and the quilts made of these were of gratefulwarmth in bleak New England. All kinds of commonplace garments andremnants of decayed gentility were pressed into service in these quilts:portions of the moth-eaten and discarded uniforms of militia-men, worn-out flannel sheets dyed with some brilliant home-dye, old coat andcloak linings, well-worn petticoats. A magnificent scarlet cloak worn bya lord mayor of London and brought to America by a member of the Merrittfamily of Salisbury, Massachusetts, went through a series of adventuresand migrations, and ended its days as small bits of vivid color castinga grateful glory and variety on a patchwork quilt in the Saco valley ofMaine. To this day at vendues or sales of old country households in NewEngland, there will be handed out great rolls of woollen pieces to beused for patchwork quilts or rag carpets, and they find purchasers. 

These woollen quilts had a thin wadding, and were usually very closelyquilted, so they were quite flat. They were called "pressed quilts. " Anold farm wife said to me in New Hampshire, "Girls won't take the troubleto make pressed quilts nowadays, it's as much as they'll do to tack apuff, " that is, make a light quilt with thick wadding only tackedtogether from front to back, at regular intervals. A pressed quilt whichI saw was quilted in inch squares. Another had a fan-pattern withsunflower leaf border; another was quilted in the elaborate patternknown as "feather-work. "

As much ingenuity was exercised in the design of the quilting as in thepattern of the patchwork, and the marking for the quilt design wasexceedingly tedious, since, of course, no drawings could be used. Iremember seeing one quilt marked by chalking strings which werestretched tightly across at the desired intervals, and held up andsnapped smartly down on the quilt, leaving a faint chalky line to guidethe eye and needle. Another simple design was to quilt in rounds, usinga saucer or plate to form a perfect circle. 

The most elaborate quilt I know of is of silk containing portions of thewedding-dress of Esther Powel, granddaughter of Gabriel Bernon; she wasmarried to James Helme in 1738. When her granddaughter was married in1795, the quilt was still unfinished, and a woman was hired who workedon it for six months, putting a miracle of fine stitches in thequilting. I think she must have been very old and very slow, for thewages paid her were but twenty cents a week and "her keep, " which wasvery small pay even in that day of small wages. When Washington came toNewport, this splendid quilt was sent to grace the bed upon which thehero slept. 

I said a few summers ago to a farmer's wife who lived on the outskirtsof a small New England hill-village: "Your home is very beautiful. Fromevery window the view is perfect. " She answered quickly: "Yes, but it'sawful lonely for me, for I was born in Worcester; still I don't mind aslong as we have plenty of quiltings. " In answer to my questions she toldme that the previous winter she had "kept count, " and she had helped attwenty-eight "regular" quiltings, besides her own home patchwork andquilt-making, and much informal help of neighbors on plain quilts. Anyone who has attended a county fair (one not too modernized and spoiled)and seen the display of intricate patchwork and quilting still made incountry homes, can see that it is not an obsolete accomplishment. 

A form of decorative work in which many women took great delight andbecame astonishingly skilful was what was known, or at any rateadvertised, by the ambitious title of Papyrotamia. It was simply thecutting out of stiff paper of various decorative and ornamental designswith scissors. At the time of the Revolution it was evidently deemed avery high accomplishment, and the best pieces of work were carefullycherished, mounted on black paper, framed and glazed, and given tofriends or bequeathed by will. One old lady is remembered as using herscissors with extraordinary deftness, and amusing herself and delightingher friends by occupying the hours of every afternoon visit with cuttingout entirely by her trained eye various pretty and curious designs. Valentines in exceedingly delicate and appropriate patterns, wreaths andbaskets of varied flowers, marine views, religious symbols, landscapes, all were accomplished. Coats of arms and escutcheons cut in black paperand mounted on white were highly prized. Portrait silhouettes were cutwith the aid of a machine which marked and reduced mechanically a sharpshadow cast by the sitter's profile through candle-light on a sheet ofwhite paper. Mrs. Lydia H. Sigourney wrote in rhyme of a revered friendof her youth, Mrs. Lathrop, of a period about a century ago:--

 "Thy dextrous scissors ready to produce The flying squirrel or the long-neck'd goose, Or dancing girls with hands together join'd, Or tall spruce-trees with wreaths of roses twin'd, The well-dress'd dolls whose paper form display'd, Thy penknife's labor and thy pencil's shade. "

I once found in an old lacquered box in a cupboard a paper packetcontaining all the cut-paper designs mentioned in this rhyme--and manymore. The workmanship of the "spruce-trees with wreaths of roses twin'd"was specially marvellous. I plainly saw in that design a derivative ofthe English Maypole and encircling wreaths. This package was marked withthe name of the paper-cutter, a Revolutionary dame who died at thebeginning of this century. Her home was remote from the Norwich home ofMrs. Lathrop, and I know she never visited in Connecticut, yet she madeprecisely the same designs and indeed all the designs. This is but apetty proof among many other more decided ones of the fact that even inthose days of scant communication and infrequent and contracted travel, there were as in our own times waves of feminine fancy work, of attemptsat artistic expression, which flooded every home, and receding, leftbehind much decorative silt of varying but nearly universal uselessnessand laborious commonplaceness. 

One of the cut-paper landscapes of Madam Deming, a Boston lady who was afamous "papyrotamist, " is here shown. It is now owned by James F. Trott, Esq. , of Niagara Falls. It is a view of Boston streets just previous tothe Revolution. In that handsome volume, the _Ten Broeck GenealogicalRecord_, are reproductions of some of the landscape views by AlbertinaTen Broeck at the same date. They show the house and farm surroundingsof the old Ten Broeck "Bouwerie, " the ancestral home in New York, andgive a wonderfully good idea of it. These are not in dead silhouette, for an appearance of shading is afforded by finely cut lines andintervening spaces. The highest form of cut-paper reproduction anddecoration ever reached was by the English woman, Mrs. Delaney, who diedin 1788, the friend of the Duchess of Portland, and intimate of GeorgeIII. And his queen. She reproduced in colored paper, in what she called"paper mosaics, " the entire flora of the United Kingdom, and it is saidit was impossible at first sight to distinguish these flowers from thereal ones. 

CHAPTER XII

DRESS OF THE COLONISTS

At the time America was settled, rich dress was almost universal inEurope among persons of any wealth or station. The dress of plain peoplealso, such as yeomen and small farmers and work-people, was plentifuland substantial, and even peasants had good and ample clothing. Materials were strongly and honestly made, clothing was sewed by hand, and lasted long. The fashions did not change from year to year, and therich or stout clothes of one generation were bequeathed by will and wornby a second and even a third and fourth generation. 

In England extravagance in dress in court circles, and grotesqueness indress among all educated folk, had become abhorrent to that class ofpersons who were called Puritans; and as an expression of their dislikethey wore plainer garments, and cut off their flowing locks, and soonwere called Roundheads. The Massachusetts settlers who were Puritansdetermined to discourage extravagance in dress in the New World, andattempted to control the fashions. 

The Massachusetts magistrates were reminded of their duties in thisdirection by sanctimonious spurring from gentlemen and ministers inEngland. One such meddler wrote to Governor Winthrop in 1636: "Many inyour plantacions discover too much pride. " Another stern moralistreproved the colonists for writing to England "for cut work coifes, fordeep stammel dyes, " to be sent to them in America. Others, prohibitedfrom wearing broad laces, were criticised for ordering narrow ones, for"going as farr as they may. "

In 1634 the Massachusetts General Court passed restricting sumptuarylaws. These laws forbade the purchase of woollen, silk, or linengarments, with silver, gold, silk, or thread lace on them. Two yearslater a narrow binding of lace was permitted on linen garments. Thecolonists were ordered not to make or buy any slashed clothes, exceptthose with one slash in each sleeve and another slash in the back. "Cutworks, imbroidd or needle or capps bands & rayles, " and gold or silvergirdles, hat-bands, belts, ruffs, and beaver hats were forbidden. Liberty was thriftily given, however, to the colonists to wear out anygarments they chanced to have unless in the form of inordinately slashedapparel, immoderate great sleeves and rails, and long wings, which couldnot possibly be endured. 

In 1639 men's attire was approached and scanned, and "immoderate greatbreeches" were tabooed; also broad shoulder-bands, double ruffles andcapes, and silk roses, which latter adornment were worn on the shoes. 

In 1651 the Court again expressed its "utter detestation that men andwomen of meane condition, education, and calling, should take vppon themthe garbe of gentlemen by wearinge of gold or silver lace, or buttons orpoynts at their knees, or walke in great boots, or women of the sameranke to wear silke or tiffany hoods or scarfs. "

Many persons were "presented" under this law, men boot-wearers as wellas women hood-wearers. In Salem, in 1652, a man was presented for"excess in bootes, ribonds, gould and silver lace. "

In Newbury, in 1653, two women were brought up for wearing silk hoodsand scarfs, but they were discharged on proof that their husbands wereworth £200 each. In Northampton, in the year 1676, a wholesale attemptwas made by the magistrates to abolish "wicked apparell. " Thirty-eightwomen of the Connecticut valley were presented at one time for variousdegrees of finery, and as of too small estate to wear silk. A young girlnamed Hannah Lyman was presented for "wearing silk in a fflauntingmanner, in an offensive way and garb not only before but when she stoodpresented. " Thirty young men were also presented for silk-wearing, longhair, and other extravagances. The calm flaunting of her silk in thevery eyes of the Court by sixteen-year-old Hannah was premonitory of thewaning power of the magistrates, for similar prosecutions at a laterdate were quashed. By 1682 the tables were turned and we find the Courtarraigning the selectmen of five towns for not prosecuting offendersagainst these laws as in previous years. In 1675 the town of Dedham hadbeen similarly warned and threatened, but apparently was neverprosecuted. Connecticut called to its aid in repressing extravagantdress the economic power of taxation by ordering that whoever wore goldor silver lace, gold or silver buttons, silk ribbons, silk scarfs, orbone lace worth over three shillings a yard should be taxed as worth£150. 

Virginia fussed a little over "excess in cloathes. " Sir Francis Wyattwas enjoined not to permit any but the Council and the heads of Hundredsto wear gold on their clothes, or to wear silk till they made it--whichwas intended more to encourage silk-making than to discouragesilk-wearing. And it provided that unmarried men should be assessedaccording to their apparel, and married men according to that of theirfamily. In 1660 Virginia colonists were ordered to import no "silkestuffe in garments or in peeces except for whoods and scarfs, nor silveror gold lace, nor bone lace of silk or threads, nor ribbands wroughtwith gold or silver in them. "

The ministers did not fail in their duty in attempting to march with themagistrates in the restriction and simplification of dress. Theypreached often against "intolerable pride in clothes and hair. " Evenwhen the Pilgrims were in Holland the preachers had been deeplydisturbed over the dress of their minister's wife, Madam Johnson, whowore "lawn coives" and busks, and a velvet hood, and "whalebones in herpetticoat bodice, " and worst of all, "a topish hat. " One of the earliestinterferences of Roger Williams was when he instructed the women ofSalem parish always to wear veils in public. But John Cotton preached tothem the next Sunday, and he proved to the dames and goodwives thatveils were a sign and symbol of undue subjection to their husbands, andSalem women soon proved their rights by coming barefaced to meeting. 

Mr. Davenport preached about men's head-gear, that men must take offtheir hats, and stand up at the announcement of the text. And if NewHaven men wore their hats in meeting, I can't see why they fussed soover the Quakers' broadbrims. 

After a while the whole church interfered. In 1769 the church at Andoverput it to vote whether "the parish Disapprove of the female sex sittingwith their Hats on in the Meeting-house in time of Divine Service asbeing Indecent. " In the town of Abington, in 1775, it was voted that itwas "an indecent way that the female sex do sit with their hats andbonnets on to worship God. " Still another town voted that it was the"Town's Mind" that the women should take their bonnets off in meetingand hang them "on the peggs. " We do not know positively, but I suspectthat the bonnets continued to grace the heads instead of the pegs inAndover, Abington, and other towns. 

To know how the colonists were dressed, we have to learn from the listsof their clothing which they left by will, which lists are stillpreserved in court records; from the inventories of the garmentsfurnished to each settler who came by contract; from the orders sentback to England for new clothing; from a few crude portraits, and fromsome articles of ancient clothing which are still preserved. 

When Salem was settled the Massachusetts Bay Company furnished clothesto all the men who emigrated and settled that town. Every man had fourpairs of shoes, four pairs of stockings, a pair of Norwich garters, fourshirts, two suits of doublet and hose of leather lined with oiled skin, a woollen suit lined with leather, four bands, two handkerchiefs, agreen cotton waistcoat, a leather belt, a woollen cap, a black hat, twored knit caps, two pairs of gloves, a mandillion or cloak lined withcotton, and an extra pair of breeches. Little boys just as soon as theycould walk wore clothes made precisely like their fathers': doubletswhich were warm double jackets, leather knee-breeches, leather belts, knit caps. The outfit for the Virginia planters was not so liberal, forthe company was not so wealthy. It was called a "Particular ofApparell. " It had only three bands, three pairs stockings, and threeshirts instead of four. The suits were of canvas, frieze, and cloth. Theclothing was doubtless lighter, because the climate of Virginia waswarmer. There were no gloves, no handkerchiefs, no hat, no red knitcaps, no mandillion, no extra pair of breeches. They had "a dozenpoints, " which were simply tapes to hold up the clothing and fasten ittogether. The clothing of the Piscataquay planters varied but littlefrom the others. They had scarlet waistcoats and cassocks of cloth, notof leather. We are apt to think of the Puritan settlers of New Englandas sombre in attire, wearing "sad-colored" garments, but green andscarlet waistcoats and scarlet caps certainly afforded a gay touch ofcolor. 

A young boy, about ten years old, named John Livingstone, was sent fromNew York to school in New England at the latter part of the seventeenthcentury. An "account of his new linen and clothes" has been preserved, and it gives an excellent idea of the clothing of a son of wealthypeople at that time. It reads thus, in the old spelling:--

 "Eleven new shirts, 4 pair laced sleves, 8 Plane Cravats, 4 Cravats with Lace, 4 Stripte Wastecoats with black buttons, 1 Flowered Wastecoat, 4 New osenbrig britches, 1 Gray hat with a black ribbon, 1 Gray hat with a blew ribbon, 1 Dousin black buttons, 1 Dousin coloured buttons, 3 Pair gold buttons, 3 Pair silver buttons, 2 Pair Fine blew Stockings, 1 Pair Fine red Stockings, 4 White Handkerchiefs, 2 Speckled Handkerchiefs, 5 Pair Gloves, 1 Stuff Coat with black buttons, 1 Cloth Coat, 1 Pair blew plush britches, 1 Pair Serge britches, 2 Combs, 1 Pair new Shooes, Silk & Thred to mend his Cloathes. "

Osenbrig was a heavy, strong linen. This would seem to be a summeroutfit, and scarcely warm enough for New England winters. Otherschoolboys at that date had deerskin breeches. 

Leather was much used, especially in the form of tanned buckskinbreeches and the deerskin hunters' jackets, which have always anddeservedly been a favorite wear, since they are one of the mostappropriate, useful, comfortable, and picturesque garments ever worn bymen in any active outdoor life. 

Soon in the larger cities and among wealthy folk a much more elaborateand varied style of dress became fashionable. The dress of little girlsin families of wealth was certainly almost as formal and elegant as thedress of their mammas, and it was a very hampering and stiff dress. Theywore vast hoop-petticoats, heavy stays, and high-heeled shoes. Theircomplexions were objects of special care; they wore masks of cloth orvelvet to protect them from the tanning rays of the sun, and long-armedgloves. Little Dolly Payne, who afterwards became the wife of PresidentMadison, went to school wearing "a white linen mask to keep every ray ofsunshine from the complexion, a sunbonnet sewed on her head everymorning by her careful mother, and long gloves covering the hands andarms. " Our present love of outdoor life, of athletic sports, and ourindifference to being sunburned, makes such painstaking vanity seem mostunbearably tiresome. 

In 1737 Colonel John Lewis sent from Virginia to England for a wardrobefor a young miss, a school-girl, who was his ward. The list readsthus:--

 "A cap ruffle and tucker, the lace 5 shillings per Yard, 1 pair White Stays, 8 pair White Kid gloves, 2 pair coloured kid gloves, 2 pair worsted hose, 3 pair thread hose, 1 pair silk shoes laced, 1 pair morocco shoes, 1 Hoop Coat, 1 Hat, 4 pair plain Spanish shoes, 2 pair calf shoes, 1 mask, 1 fan, 1 necklace, 1 Girdle and buckle, 1 piece fashionable Calico, 4 yards ribbon for knots, 1½ yard Cambric, A mantua and coat of lute-string. "

In the middle of the century George Washington also sent to England foran outfit for his stepdaughter, Miss Custis. She was four years old, andhe ordered for her, pack-thread stays, stiff coats of silk, masks, caps, bonnets, bibs, ruffles, necklaces, fans, silk and calamanco shoes, andleather pumps. There were also eight pairs of kid mitts and four pairsof gloves; these with the masks show that this little girl's complexionwas also to be well guarded. 

A little New England Miss Huntington, when twelve years old, was sentfrom Norwich, Connecticut, to be "finished" in a Boston boarding-school. She had twelve silk gowns, but her teacher wrote home that she must haveanother gown of "a recently imported rich fabric, " which was at oncebought for her because it was "suitable for her rank and station. "

Through the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries there was a constantsuccession of rich and gay fashions; for American dress was carefullymodelled upon European, especially English modes. Men's wear was as richas women's. An English traveller said that Boston women and men in 1740dressed as gay every day as courtiers in England at a coronation. Butwith all the richness there was no wastefulness. The sister of the richBoston merchant, Peter Faneuil, who built Faneuil Hall, sent her gownsto London to be turned and dyed, and her old ribbons and gowns to besold. But her gowns, which are still preserved, are of magnificentstuffs. 

New Yorkers were dressed in gauzes, silks, and laces; even women Quakersin Pennsylvania had to be warned against wearing hoop-petticoats, scarlet shoes, and puffed and rolled hair. 

The family of so frugal a man as Benjamin Franklin did not escape aslight infection of the prevailing love for gay dress. In the_Pennsylvania Gazette_ this advertisement appeared in 1750:--

 "Whereas on Saturday night last the house of Benjamin Franklin of this city, Printer, was broken open, and the following things feloniously taken away, viz. , a double necklace of gold beads, a womans long scarlet cloak almost new, with a double cape, a womans gown, of printed cotton of the sort called brocade print, very remarkable, the ground dark, with large red roses, and other large and yellow flowers, with blue in some of the flowers, with many green leaves; a pair of womens stays covered with white tabby before, and dove colour'd tabby behind, with two large steel hooks and sundry other goods, etc. "

Southern dames, especially of Annapolis, Baltimore, and Charleston, weresaid to have the richest brocades and damasks that could be bought inLondon. Every sailing-vessel that came from Europe brought boxes ofsplendid clothing. The heroes of the Revolution had a high regard fordress. The patriot, John Hancock, was seen at noonday wearing a scarletvelvet cap, a blue damask gown lined with velvet, white satinembroidered waistcoat, black satin small-clothes, white silk stockings, and red morocco slippers. George Washington was most precise in hisorders for his clothing, and wore the richest silk and velvet suits. 

A true description of a Boston printer just after the Revolution showshis style of dress:--

 "He wore a pea-green coat, white vest, nankeen small clothes, white silk stockings, and pumps fastened with silver buckles which covered at least half the foot from instep to toe. His small clothes were tied at the knees with ribbon of the same colour in double bows, the ends reaching down to the ancles. His hair in front was well loaded with pomatum, frizzled or craped and powdered. Behind, his natural hair was augmented by the addition of a large queue called vulgarly a false tail, which, enrolled in some yards of black ribbon, hung half-way down his back. "

Many letters still exist written by prominent citizens of colonial timesordering clothing, chiefly from Europe. Rich laces, silk materials, velvet, and fine cloth of light and gay colors abound. Frequently theyordered nightgowns of silk and damask. These nightgowns were not agarment worn at night, but a sort of dressing-gown. Harvard studentswere in 1754 forbidden to wear them. Under the name of banyan theybecame very fashionable, and men had their portraits painted in them, for instance the portrait of Nicholas Boylston, now in Harvard MemorialHall. 

With the increase of trade with China many Chinese and East Indian goodsbecame fashionable, with hundreds of different names. A few were of silkor linen, but far more of cotton; among them nankeens were the mostimported and even for winter wear. 

Both men and women wore for many years great cloaks or capes, known byvarious names, such as roquelaures, capuchins, pelisses, etc. Women'sshoes were of very thin materials, and paper-soled. They wore to protectthese frail shoes, when walking on the ill-paved streets, various formsof overshoes, known as goloe-shoes, clogs, pattens, etc. When riding, women in the colonies wore, as did Queen Elizabeth, a safeguard, a longover-petticoat to protect the gown from mud and rain. This was sometimescalled a foot-mantle, also a weather-skirt. A traveller tells of seeinga row of horses tied to a fence outside a Quaker meeting. Some carriedside saddles, some men's saddles and pillions. On the fence hung themuddy safeguards the Quaker dames had worn outside their drabpetticoats. Men wore sherry-vallies or spatter-dashes to protect theirgay breeches. 

There was one fashion which lasted for a century and a half which was sountidy, so uncomfortable, so costly, and so ridiculous that we can onlywonder that it was endured for a single season--I mean the fashion ofwig-wearing by men. The first colonists wore their own natural hair. TheCavaliers had long and perfumed love-locks; and though the Puritans hadbeen called Roundheads, their hair waved, also, over the band or collar, and often hung over the shoulder. The Quakers, also, wore long locks, asthe lovely portrait of William Penn shows. But by 1675 wigs had becomecommon enough to be denounced by the Massachusetts government, and to bepreached against by many ministers; while other ministers proudly worethem. Wigs were called horrid bushes of vanity, and hundreds of otherdisparaging names, which seemed to make them more popular. They variedfrom year to year; sometimes they swelled out at the sides, or rose ingreat puffs, or turned under in heavy rolls, or hung in braids and curlsand pig-tails; they were made of human hair, of horsehair, goat's-hair, calves' and cows' tails, of thread, silk, and mohair. They had scores ofsilly and meaningless names, such as "grave full-bottom, " "giddyfeather-top, " "long-tail, " "fox-tail, " "drop-wig, " etc. They were boundand braided with pink, green, red, and purple ribbons, sometimes allthese colors on one wig. They were very heavy, and very hot, and veryexpensive, often costing what would be equal to a hundred dollarsto-day. The care of them was a great item, often ten pounds a year for asingle wig, and some gentlemen owned eight or ten wigs. Little childrenwore them. I have seen the bill for a wig for William Freeman, dated1754; he was a child seven years old. His father paid nine pounds forit, and the same for wigs for his other boys of nine and ten. Evenservants wore them; I read in the _Massachusetts Gazette_ of a runawaynegro slave who "wore off a curl of hair tied around his head with astring to imitate a wig, " which must have been a comical sight. Afterwigs had become unfashionable, the natural hair was powdered, and wastied in a queue in the back. This was an untidy, troublesome fashion, which ruined the clothes; for the hair was soaked with oil or pomatum tomake the powder stick. 

Comparatively little jewellery was worn. A few men had gold or silversleeve-buttons; a few women had bracelets or lockets; nearly all of anysocial standing had rings, which were chiefly mourning-rings. As thesegloomy ornaments were given to all the chief mourners at funerals, itcan be seen that a man of large family connections, or of prominentsocial standing, might acquire a great many of them. The minister anddoctor usually had a ring at every funeral they attended. It is told ofan old Salem doctor, who died in 1758, that he had a tankard full ofmourning-rings which he had secured at funerals. Men sometimes worethumb-rings, which seems no queerer than the fact that they carriedmuffs. Old Dr. Prince of Boston carried an enormous bearskin muff. 

Gloves also were gifts at funerals, sometimes in large numbers. At thefuneral of the wife of Governor Belcher, in 1738, over a thousand pairswere given away. Rev. Andrew Eliot, who was pastor of the North Churchin Boston, had twenty-nine hundred pair of gloves given him inthirty-two years; many of these he sold. In all the colonies, whethersettled by Dutch, English, French, German, or Swedes, gloves wereuniversally given at funerals. 

The early watches were clumsy affairs, often globose in shape, with adetached outer case. 

To show how few of the first colonists owned either watches or clocks, we have the contemporary evidence of Roger Williams. When he rowedthirty miles down the bay, and disputed with the "Foxians" at Newport in1672, it was agreed that each party should be heard in turn for aquarter of an hour. But no clock was available in Newport; and among thewhole population that flocked to the debate, there was not a singlewatch. Williams says, "unless we had Clocks and Watches and QuarterGlasses (as in some Ships) it was impossible to be exactly punctual, " sothey guessed at the time. 

Sun-dials were often set in the street in front of houses; andnoon-marks on the threshold of the front door or window-sill helped toshow the hour of the day. 

CHAPTER XIII

JACK-KNIFE INDUSTRIES

Chepa Rose was one of those old-time chap-men known throughout NewEngland as "trunk pedlers. " Bearing on his back by means of a harness ofstout hempen webbing two oblong trunks of thin metal, --probablytin, --for forty-eight years he had appeared at every considerablefarmhouse throughout Narragansett and eastern Connecticut, at intervalsas regular as the action and appearance of the sun, moon, and tides; andeverywhere was he greeted with an eager welcome. 

Chepa was, as he said, "half Injun, half French, and half Yankee. " Fromhis Indian half he had his love of tramping which made him choose thewandering trade of trunk pedler; his French half made him a good traderand talker; while his Yankee half endowed him with a universal Yankeetrait, a "handiness, " which showed in scores of gifts andaccomplishments and knacks that made him as warmly greeted everywhereas were his attractive trunks. 

He was a famous medicine-brewer; from the roots and herbs and barks thathe gathered as he tramped along the country roads he manufactured acough medicine that was twice as effective and twice as bitter as oldDr. Greene's; he made famous plasters, of two kinds, --plasters to stickand plasters to crawl, the latter to follow the course of the disease orpain; he concocted wonderful ink; he showed Jenny Greene how to bleachher new straw bonnet with sulphur fumes; he mended umbrellas, harnesses, and tinware; he made glorious teetotums which the children looked for aseagerly and unfailingly as they did for his tops and marbles, hisribbons and Gibraltars. 

One day he came through the woods to John Helme's house carrying in hishand a stout birchen staff or small tree-trunk, which he laid down onthe flat millstone imbedded in the grass at the back door, while hedisplayed and sold his wares and had his dinner. He then went out to thedooryard with little Johnny Helme, sat down on the millstone, lightedhis pipe, opened his jack-knife, and discoursed thus:--

 "Johnny, I'm going to tell you how to make an Injun broom. Fust, you must find a big birch-tree. There ain't so many big ones now of any kind as there useter be when we made canoes and plates and cradles, and water spouts, and troughs, and furnitoor out of the bark. But you must get a yallow birch-tree as straight as H and edzactly five inch acrost. Now, how kin ye tell how fur it is acrost a tree afore ye cut it off? I kin tell by the light of my eye, but that's Injun larnin'. Lemme tell you by book-larnin'. Measure it round, and make the string in three parts, and one part'll be what it is acrost. If it's nine inch round, it'll be three inch acrost, and so on. Now don't you forgit that. Wal! you must get a straight birch-tree five inch acrost where you cut it off, just like this one. Then make the stick six foot long. Then one foot and two inch from the big end cut a ring round the bark; wal! say two inch wide just like this. Then you take off all the bark below that ring. Then you begin a-slivering with a sharp jack-knife, leetle teeny flat slivers way up to the bark ring. When it's all slivered up thin and flat there'll be a leetle hard core left inside at the top, and you must cut it out careful. Then you take off the bark above the ring and begin slivering down. Leave a stick just big enough for a handle. Then tie this last lot of slivers down tight over the others with a hard-twisted tow string, and trim 'em off even. Then whittle off and scrape off a good smooth handle with a hole in the top to put a loop of cowhide in, to hang it up by orderly. 

 "Yes, Johnny, I've got just enough Injun in me to make a good broom; not enough to be ashamed of and not enough to be proud of. But you mustn't forgit this; a moccasin's the best cover a man ever had on his feet in the woods; the easiest to get stuff for, the easiest to make, the easiest to wear. And a birch-bark canoe's the best boat a man can have on the river. It's the easiest to get stuff for, easiest to carry, the fastest to paddle. And a snowshoe's the best help a man can have in the winter. It's the easiest to get stuff for, the easiest to walk on, the easiest to carry. And just so a birch broom is the best broom a man or at any rate a woman can have; four best things and all of 'em is Injun. Now you just slip in and take that broom to Phillis. I see her the last time I was here a-using a mizrable store broom to clean her oven--and just ask her if I can't have a mug of apple-jack afore I go to bed. "

If this scene had been laid in New Hampshire or Vermont instead ofNarragansett, the Indian broom would have been no novelty to any boy orhouse-servant. For in the northern New England states, heavily woodedwith yellow birch, every boy knew how to make the Indian brooms, andevery household in country or town had them. There was a constant demandin Boston for them, and sometimes country stores had several hundred ofthe brooms at a time. Throughout Vermont seventy years ago the uniformprice paid for making one of these brooms was six cents; and if thesplints were very fine and the handle scraped with glass, it tooknearly three evenings to finish it. Indian squaws peddled themthroughout the country for ninepence apiece. Major Robert Randolph toldin fashionable London circles about the year 1750, that when he was aboy in New Hampshire he earned his only spending-money by making thesebrooms and carrying them on his back ten miles to town to sell them. Girls could whittle as well as boys, and often exchanged the birchbrooms they made for a bit of ribbon or lace. 

A simpler and less durable broom was made of hemlock branches. A localrhyme says of them:--

 "Driving at twilight the waiting cows, With arms full-laden with hemlock boughs, To be traced on a broom ere the coming day From its eastern chambers should dance away. "

The hemlock broom was simply a bunch of close-growing, full-foliagedhemlock branches tied tightly together and wound around with hempentwine, "traced, " the rhyme says, with a sharply pointed handle, whichthe boys had shaped and whittled, driven well into the bound portion. This making of brooms for domestic use is but an example of one of themany score of useful domestic and farm articles which were furnished bythe natural resources of every wood-lot, adapted by the Yankeejack-knife and a few equally simple tools, of which the gimlet mighttake the second place. 

It was so emphatically a wooden age in colonial days that it seemedalmost that there were no hard metals used for any articles which to-dayseem so necessarily of metal. Ploughs were of wood, and harrows;cart-wheels were often wholly of wood without tires, though sometimesiron plates called strakes held the felloes together, being fastened tothem by long clinch-pins. The dish-turner and cooper were artisans ofimportance in those days; piggins, noggins, runlets, keelers, firkins, buckets, churns, dye-tubs, cowles, powdering-tubs, were made with charyor no use of metal. 

The forests were the wealth of the colonies in more ways than one; andit may be said that they furnished both domestic winter employment andtoys for the boys. The New England forests were full of richly varied kindsof wood, suitable for varied uses, with varied qualities--pliability, stiffness, durability, weight, strength; and it is surprising to see howquickly the woods were assigned to fixed uses, even for toys; in everystate pop-guns were made from elder; bows and arrows of hemlock; whistlesof chestnut or willow. 

The Rev. John Pierpont wrote thus of the whittling of his childhooddays:--

 "The Yankee boy before he's sent to school Well knows the mysteries of that magic tool-- The pocket-knife. To that his wistful eye Turns, while he hears his mother's lullaby. And in the education of the lad, No little part that implement hath had. His pocket-knife to the young whittler brings A growing knowledge of material things, Projectiles, music, and the sculptor's art. His chestnut whistle, and his shingle dart, His elder pop-gun with its hickory rod, Its sharp explosion and rebounding wad, His corn-stalk fiddle, and the deeper tone That murmurs from his pumpkin-leaf trombone Conspire to teach the boy. To these succeed His bow, his arrow of a feathered reed, His windmill raised the passing breeze to win, His water-wheel that turns upon a pin. Thus by his genius and his jack-knife driven Ere long he'll solve you any problem given; Make you a locomotive or a clock, Cut a canal or build a floating dock: Make anything in short for sea or shore, From a child's rattle to a seventy-four. Make it, said I--ay, when he undertakes it, He'll make the thing and make the thing that makes it. "

The boy's jack-knife was a possession so highly desired, so closelytreasured in those days when boys had so few belongings, that it ispathetic to read of many a farm lad's struggles and long hours of wearywork to obtain a good knife. Barlow knives were the most highly prizedfor certainly sixty years, and had, I am told, a vast popularity forover a century. May they forever rest in glorious memory, as they livedthe happiest of lots! To be the best beloved of a century of Yankeeboys is indeed an enviable destiny. A few battered old soldiers of thisvast army of Barlow jack-knives still linger to show us the homelyfeatures borne by the century's well beloved: the SmithsonianInstitution cherishes some of colonial days; and from Deerfield MemorialHall are shown three Barlow knives whose picture should appear to everyAmerican something more than the presentment of dull bits of wood andrusted metal. These Yankee jack-knives were, said Daniel Webster, thedirect forerunners of the cotton-gin and thousands of noble Americaninventions; the New England boy's whittling was his alphabet ofmechanics. 

In this connection, let us note the skilful and utilitarian adaptationnot only of natural materials for domestic and farm use, but alsonatural forms. The farmer and his wife both turned to Nature forimplements and utensils, or for parts adapted to shape readily into theimplements and utensils of every-day life. When we read of the firstBoston settlers that "the dainty Indian maize was eat with clam-shellsout of wooden trays, " we learn of a primitive spoon, a clam-shell set ina split stick, which has been used till this century. Large flatclam-shells were used and highly esteemed by housewives, asskimming-shells in the dairy, to skim cream from the milk. Gourd-shellsmade capital bowls, skimmers, dippers, and bottles; pumpkin-shells, goodseed and grain holders. Turkey-wings made an ever-ready hearth-brush. Inthe forests were many "crooked sticks" that were more useful than anystraight ones could be. When the mower wanted a new snathe or snead, ashe called it, for his scythe, he found in the woods a deformed saplingthat had grown under a log or twisted around a rock in a double bend, which made it the exact shape desired. He then whittled it, dressed itwith a draw-shave, fastened the nebs with a neb-wedge, hung it with aniron ring, and was ready for the mowing-field. 

Sled-runners were made from saplings bent at the root. The best thillsfor a cart were those naturally shaped by growth. The curved pieces ofwood in the harness of a draught-horse, called the hames, to which thetraces are fastened, could be found in twisted growths, as could alsoportions of ox-yokes. The gambrels used in slaughtering times, hay-hooks, long-handled pothooks for brick ovens, could all be cutready-shaped. 

The smaller underbrush and saplings had many uses. Sled and cart stakeswere cut from some; long bean-poles from others; specially straightclean sticks were saved for whip-stocks. Sections of birch bark could bebottomed and served for baskets, or for potash cans, while capitalfeed-boxes could be made in the same way of sections cut from a hollowhemlock. Elm rind and portions of brown ash butts were naturalmaterials for chair-seats and baskets, as were flags for door-mats. Forked branches made geese and hog yokes. Hogs that ran at large had towear yokes. It was ordered that these yokes should measure as long astwice and a half times the depth of the neck, while the bottom piece wasthree times the width of the neck. 

In the shaping of heavy and large vessels such as salt-mortars, pigtroughs, maple-sap troughs, the jack-knife was abandoned and the methodsof the Indians adopted. These vessels were burnt and scraped out of asingle log, and thus had a weighty stability and permanence. Woodenbread troughs were also made from a single piece of wood. These wereoblong, trencher-shaped bowls about eighteen inches long; across thetrough ran lengthwise a stick or rod on which rested the sieve, searse, or temse, when flour was sifted into the trough. The saying "set theThames (or temse) on fire, " meant that hard work and active frictionwould set the wooden temse on fire. 

Sometimes the mould for an ox-bow was dug out of a log of wood. Oftenera plank of wood was cut into the desired shape as a frame or mould, andfastened to a heavy backboard. The ox-bow was steamed, placed in thebow-mould, pinned in, and then carefully seasoned. 

The boys whittled cheese-ladders, cheese-hoops, and red-cherrybutter-paddles for their mothers' dairy; also many parts ofcheese-presses and churns. To the toys enumerated by Rev. Mr. Pierpont, they added box-traps and "figure 4" traps of various sizes for catchingvari-sized animals. 

Many farm implements other than those already named were made, and manyportions of tools and implements; among them were shovels, swingling-knives, sled-neaps, stanchions, handles for spades andbill-hooks, rake-stales, fork-stales, flails. A group of old farmimplements from Memorial Hall, at Deerfield, is here given. Thehandleless scythe-snathe is said to have come over on the _Mayflower_. 

The making of flails was an important and useful work. Many were brokenand worn out during a great threshing. Both parts, the staff or handle, and the swingle or swiple, were carefully shaped from well-chosen wood, to be joined together later by an eelskin or leather strap. 

The flail is little seen on farms to-day. Threshing and winnowingmachines have taken its place. The father of Robert Burns declaredthreshing with a flail to be the only degrading and stultifying work ona farm; but I never knew another farmer who deemed it so, though it wascertainly hard work. Last autumn I visited the "Poor Farm" on QuonsettPoint in old Narragansett. In the vast barn of that beautiful andsparsely occupied country home, two powerful men, picturesque in bluejeans tucked in heavy boots, in scarlet shirts and great straw hats, were threshing out grain with flails. Both men were blind, one wholly, the other partially so--and were "Town Poor. " Their strong, bare armsswung the long flails in alternate strokes with the precision ofclockwork, bringing each blow down on the piled-up wheat-straw whichcovered the barn-floor, as they advanced, one stepping backward whilethe other stepped forward, and then receded with mechanical and rhythmicregularity, a step and a blow, from one end of the long barn to theother. The half-blind thresher could see the outline of the open dooragainst the sunlight, and his steps and voice guided his sightlessfellow-worker. Thus healthful and useful employment was given to twostricken waifs through the use of primitive methods, which no modernmachine could ever have afforded; and the blue sky and bay, withautumnal sunshine on the piled-up golden wheat on floor and in rack, idealized and even made of the threshers, paupers though they were, abeautiful picture of old-time farm-life. 

Wood for axe-helves was carefully chosen, sawed, split, and whittledinto shape. These were then scraped as smooth as ivory with brokenglass. Some men had a knack that was almost genius in shaping theseaxe-helves and selecting the wood for them. In a country where thebroad-axe was so important an implement--used every day by every farmer;where lumbermen and loggers and shipwrights swung the axe the entire dayfor many months, men were ready to pay double price for a well-madehelve, so shaped as to let the heavy blow jar as little as possible thehand holding the helve. One Maine farmer boasted that he had made andsold five hundred axe-helves, and received a good price for them all;that some had gone five hundred miles out west, others a hundred miles"up country"; and of no one of them which he had set had it ever beensaid, as of the axe in Deuteronomy, "When a man goeth into the wood tohew wood, and his hand fetcheth a stroke with the axe to cut down atree, then the head slippeth from the helve. "

A little money might be earned by cutting heel-pegs for shoemakers. These were made of a maple trunk sawed across the grain, making thecircular board thin enough--a half inch or so--for the correct length ofthe pegs. The end was then marked in parallel lines, then grooved acrossat right angles, then split as marked into pegs with knife and mallet. Astory is told of a farmer named Meigs, who, on the winter ride tomarket in company with a score or more of his neighbors, stole out atnight from the tavern fireside where all were gathered to the barn wherethe horses were put up. There he took an oat-bag out of a neighbor'ssleigh and poured out a good feed for his own horse. In the morning itwas found that his horse had not relished the shoe-pegs that had beenput in his manger; and their telltale presence plainly pointed out thethief. These shoe-pegs were a venture of two farmer boys which theirfather was taking to town to sell for them, and in indignation the boysthrust on the thief the name of Shoe-pegs Meigs, which he carried to theend of his life. 

When the boys had learned to use a few other tools besides theirjack-knives, as they quickly did, they could get sawed staves from thesawmills and make up shooks of staves bound with hoops of red oak, formolasses hogsheads. These would be shipped to the West Indies, and forman important link in the profitable rum and slave round of traffic thatbound Africa, New England, and the West Indies so closely together inthose days. A constant occupation for men and boys was making rived orshaved shingles. They were split with a beetle and wedge. A smartworkman could by sharp work make a thousand a day. There may still beoccasionally found in what were well-wooded pine regions, in shed orbarn-lofts, or in old wood-houses, a stout oaken frame or rack such aswas at one time found in nearly every house. It was known as abundling-mould or shingling-mould. At the bottom of this strong framewere laid straight sticks and twisted withes which extended up thesides. Upon these were evenly packed the shingles, two hundred and fiftyin number, known as a "quarter. " The withes or "binders" were twistedstrongly around when the number was full. The mould held them firmly inplace while being tied. These were sealed by law and shipped. Cullers ofstaves were regularly appointed town officers. The dimensions of theshingles were given by law and rule; fifteen inches was the length forone period of time, and the bundling-mould conformed to it. 

Daniel Leake of Salisbury, New Hampshire, made during his lifetime andwas paid for a million shingles. During the years he was accomplishingthis colossal work he cleared three hundred acres of land, tapped fortwenty years at least six hundred maple-trees, making sometimes fourthousand pounds of sugar a year. He could mow six acres a day, givingnine tons of hay; his strong, long arms cut a swath twelve feet wide. _In his spare time_ he worked as a cooper, and he was a famousdrum-maker. Truly there were giants in those days. I love to read ofsuch vigorous, powerful lives; they seem to be of a race entirelydifferent from our own. Still, among our New England forbears I doubtnot many of us had some such giants, who conquered for us the earth andforests. 

One mark the shingling industry left on the household. In the sawing ofblocks there would always be some too knotty or gnarled to split intoshingles. These were what were known in the vernacular as"on-marchantable shingle-bolts. " They formed in many a pioneer's homeand in many a pioneer school-house good solid seats for children andeven grown people to sit on. And even in pioneer meeting-houses theseblocks could sometimes be seen. 

Other fittings for the house were whittled out. Long, heavy, woodenhinges were cut from horn-beam for cupboard and closet doors; even sheddoors were hung on wooden hinges as were house doors in the earliestcolonial days. Door-latches were made of wood, also oblong buttons tofasten chamber and cupboard doors. 

New England housekeepers prized the smooth, close-grained bowls whichthe Indians made from the veined and mottled knots of maple-wood. Theywere valued at what seems high prices for wooden utensils and were oftennamed and bequeathed in wills. Maple-wood has been used and esteemed bymany nations for cups and bowls. The old English and German vessel knownas a mazer was made of maple-wood, often bound and tipped with silver. Spenser speaks in his _Shepheard's Calendar_ of "a mazer yrought of themaple wood. " A well-known specimen in England bears the legend in Gothictext:--

 "In the Name of the Trinitie Fille the kup and drinke to me. "

Sometimes a specially skilful Yankee would rival the Indians in shapingand whittling out these bowls. I have seen two really beautiful onescarved with double initials, and one with a Scriptural reference, saidto be the work of a lover for his bride. Another token of affection andskill from the whittler were carved busks, which were the broad andstrong strips of wood placed in corsets or stays to help to form andpreserve the long-waisted, stiff figure then fashionable. One carvedbusk bears initials and an appropriately sentimental design of arrowsand hearts. 

On the rim of spinning-wheels, on shuttles, swifts, and on niddy-noddysor hand-reels I have seen lettering by the hands of rustic lovers. Afinely carved legend on a hand-reel reads:--

 "POLLY GREENE, HER REEL. Count your threads right If you reel in the night When I am far away. June, 1777. "

Perhaps some Revolutionary soldier gave this as a parting gift to hissweetheart on the eve of battle. 

On his powder-horn the rustic carver bestowed his best and daintiestwork. Emblem both of war and of sport, it seemed worthy of being shapedinto the highest expression of his artistic longing. A chapter, even abook, might be filled with the romantic history and representations ofAmerican powder-horns; patriotism, sentiment, and adventure shed equalhalos over them. Months of the patient work of every spare moment wasspent in beautifying them, and their quaintness, variety, andindividuality are a never-ceasing delight to the antiquary. Maps, plans, legends, verses, portraits, landscapes, family history, crests, dates ofbirths, marriages, and deaths, lists of battles, patriotic and religioussentiments, all may be found on powder-horns. They have in many casesproved valuable historical records, and have sometimes been the onlyrecords of events. Mr. Rufus A. Grider, of Canajoharie, has made coloreddrawings of about five hundred of these powder-horns, and of canteens ordrinking-horns. It is unfortunate that the ordinary processes ofbook-illustration give too scant suggestion of the variety, beauty, anddelicacy of their decoration, to permit the reproduction of some ofthese powder-horns in these pages. 

These habits of employing the spare moments of farm-life in themanufacture from wood of farm implements and various aids to domesticcomfort, were not peculiar to New England farmers, nor invented by them. The old English farmer-author, Thomas Tusser, in his rhymed book, _FiveHundred Points of Good Husbandry_, written in the sixteenth century(which Southey declared to be one of the most curious and formerly oneof the most popular books in our language), was careful to giveinstructions in his "remembrances" and "doings" as to similar industrieson the English farm and manor house. He says:--

 "Yokes, forks, and such other let bailie spy out And gather the same as he walketh about; And after, at leisure, let this be his hire, To beath them and trim them at home by the fire. "

_To beath_ is to heat unseasoned wood to harden and straighten it. 

 "If hop-yard or orchard ye mean for to have, For hop-poles and crotches in lopping go save. 

 "Save elm, ash, and crab tree for cart and for plow, Save step for a stile of the crotch of a bough; Save hazel for forks, save sallow for rake: Save hulver and thorn, thereof flail for to make. "

The Massachusetts Bay settlers came chiefly from the vicinity, many fromthe same county, where Tusser lived and farmed, and where his points ofgood husbandry were household words; so they had in their English homesas had their grandfathers before them, the knowledge and habit of savingand utilizing the various woods on the farm, and of occupying everyspare minute with the useful jack-knife. The varied and bountiful treesof the New World stimulated and emphasized the whittling habit until itbecame universally accepted as a distinguishing New Englandcharacteristic, a Yankee trait. 

This constant employment of every moment of the waking hours contributedto impart to New Englanders a regard and method of life which is spokenof by many outsiders with contempt, namely, a closely girded andinvariable habit of economy. Children brought up in this way knew thevalue of everything in the household, knew the time it took to produceit, for they had labored themselves, and they grew to take care of smallthings, not to squander and waste what they had been so long at work on. This, instead of being a thing to sneer at, is one of the very bestelements in a community, one of the best securities of character. Forsudden leaps to fortune are given to but few, and are seldom lasting, and the results of sudden inflations are more disastrous even to acommunity than to isolated individuals, as may be abundantly proved bythe early history of Virginia. It was not meanness that made the wiryNew England farmer so cautious and exacting in trade, when the pennieshe saved sent his son through college. It was not meanness which madehim refuse to spend money; he had no money to spend, and it was a highsense of honor that kept him from running in debt. It was not meannesswhich so justly ordered conditions and cared for the unfortunate thateven in those days of horrible drunkenness often there would not be apauper in the entire village. It has been a reproach that in some townsthe few town poor were vendued out to be cared for; the mode was harshin its wording, and unfeeling in method, but in reality the pauper founda home. I have known cases where the pauper was not only supported butcherished in the families to whose lot she fell. 

CHAPTER XIV

TRAVEL, TRANSPORTATION, AND TAVERNS

Wherever the earliest colonists settled in America, they had to adoptthe modes of travel and the ways of getting from place to place of theirpredecessors and new neighbors, the Indians. These were first--andgenerally--to walk on their own stout legs; second, to go wherever theycould by water, in boats. In Maryland and Virginia, where for a longtime nearly all settlers tried to build their homes on the banks of therivers and bays, the travel was almost entirely by boats; as it wasbetween settlements on all the great rivers, the Hudson, Connecticut, and Merrimac. 

Between the large settlements in Massachusetts--Boston, Salem, andPlymouth--travel was preferably, when the weather permitted, in boats. The colonists went in canoes, or pinnaces, shaped and made exactly likethe birch-bark canoes of the Canadian Indians to-day; and in dugouts, which were formed from hollowed pine-logs, usually about twenty feetlong and two or three feet wide; both of these were made for them by theIndians. It was said that one Indian, working alone, felling thepine-tree by the primitive way of burning and scraping off the charredparts with a stone tool called a celt (for the Indians had no iron orsteel axes), then cutting off the top in the same manner, then burningout part of the interior, then burning and scraping and shaping itwithout and within, could make one of these dugouts in three weeks. TheIndians at Onondaga still make the wooden mortars they use in the sametedious way. 

When the white men came to America in great ships, the Indians marvelledmuch at the size, thinking they were hollowed out of tree-trunks as werethe dugouts, and wondered where such vast trees grew. 

The Swedish scientific traveller, Kalm, who was in America in 1748, wasdelighted with the Indian canoes and dugouts. He found the Swedesettlers using them constantly to go long distances to market. Hesaid:--

 "They usually carry six persons who however by no means must be unruly, but sit at the bottom of the canoe in the quietest manner possible lest the boat upset. They are narrow, round below, have no keel and may be easily overset. So when the wind is brisk the people make for the land. Larger dugouts were made for war-canoes which would carry thirty or forty savages. "

These boats usually kept close to the shore, both in calm and windyweather, though the natives were not afraid to go many miles out to seain the dugouts. 

The lightness of the birch-bark canoe made it specially desirable wherethere were such frequent overland transfers. It was and is a beautifuland perfect expression of natural and wild life; as Longfellow wrote:--

 ". . . The forest's life was in it, All its mystery and magic, All the lightness of the birch tree, All the toughness of the cedar, All the larch's supple sinews, And it floated on the river Like a yellow leaf in autumn. "

The French governor and missionaries all saw and admired thesebirch-bark canoes. Father Charlevoix wrote a beautiful and vividdescription of them. All the early travellers noted their ticklishbalance. Wood, writing in 1634, said, "In these cockling fly-boats anEnglishman can scarce sit without a fearful tottering, " and MadamKnights a century later said in her vivid English of a trip in one:--

 "The Cannoo was very small and shallow, which greatly terrify'd me and caused me to be very circumspect, sitting with my hands fast on each side, my eyes steady, not daring so much as to lodge my tongue a hair's bredth more on one side of my mouth than tother, nor so much as think on Lott's wife, for a very thought would have oversett our wherry. "

When boats and vessels were built by the colonists, they were in formsor had names but little used to-day. Shallop, ketch, pink, and snow arerarely heard. Sloops were early built, but schooner is a modern term. Batteau and periagua still are used; and the gundalow, picturesque withits lateen sail, still is found on our northern New England shores. 

The Indians had narrow foot-paths in many places through the woods. Onthem foot-travel was possible, though many estuaries and riversintersected the coast; for the narrow streams could be crossed onnatural ford-ways, or on rude bridges of fallen trees, which the Englishgovernment ordered to be put in place. 

As late as 1631 Governor Endicott would not go from Salem to Boston tovisit Governor Winthrop because he was not strong enough to wade acrossthe fords. He might have done as Governor Winthrop did the next yearwhen he went to Plymouth to visit Governor Bradford (and it took him twodays to get there); he might have been carried across the fordspickaback by an Indian guide. 

The Indian paths were good, though only two or three feet wide, and inmany places the savages kept the woods clear from underbrush by burningover large tracts. When King Philip's War took place, all the landaround the Indian settlements in Narragansett and eastern Massachusettswas so free of brush that horsemen could ride everywhere freely throughthe woods. Some of the old paths are famous in our history. The most sowas the Bay Path, which ran from Cambridge through Marlborough, Worcester, Oxford, Brookfield, and on to Springfield and the ConnecticutRiver. Holland's beautiful story called by the name of the path givesits history, its sentiment, and much that happened on it in olden times. 

When new paths were cut through the forests, the settlers "blazed" thetrees, that is, they chopped a piece of the bark off tree after treestanding on the side of the way. Thus the "blazes" stood out clear andwhite in the dark shadows of the forests, like welcome guide-posts, showing the traveller his way. In Maryland roads turning off to a churchwere marked by slips or blazes cut near the ground. 

In Maryland and Virginia what were known as, and indeed are stillcalled, rolling-roads were cut through the forest. They were narrowroads adown which hogsheads of tobacco, fitted with axles, could bedrawn or rolled from inland plantations to the river or bay side;sometimes the hogsheads were simply rolled by human propulsion, notdragged on these roads. 

The broader rivers soon had canoe-ferries. The first regularMassachusetts ferry from Charlestown to Boston was in 1639. It carriedpassengers for threepence apiece. From Chelsea to Boston was fourpence. In 1636 the Cambridge ferryman charged but half a penny, as so manywished to attend the Thursday lecture in the Boston churches. We learnfrom the Massachusetts Laws that often a rider had to let his horsecross by swimming over, being guided from the ferry-boat; he then paidno ferriage for the horse. After wheeled vehicles were used, theseferries were not large enough to carry them properly. Often the carriagehad to be taken apart, or towed over, while the horse had his fore feetin one canoe-ferry and his hind feet in another, the two canoes beinglashed together. The rope-ferry lingered till our own day, and was evera picturesque sight on the river. As soon as roads were built therewere, of course, bridges and cart-ways, but these were only between theclosely neighboring towns. Usually the bridges were merely"horse-bridges" with a railing on but one side. 

After the period of walking and canoe-riding had had its day, nearly allland travel for a century was on horseback, just as it was in England atthat date. In 1672 there were only six stage-coaches in the whole ofGreat Britain; and a man wrote a pamphlet protesting that theyencouraged too much travel. Boston then had one private coach. Women andchildren usually rode seated on a pillion behind a man. A pillion was apadded cushion with straps which sometimes had on one side a sort ofplatform-stirrup. One way of progress which would help four persons ridepart of their journey was what was called the ride-and-tie system. Twoof the four persons who were travelling started on their road on foot;two mounted on the saddle and pillion, rode about a mile, dismounted, tied the horse, and walked on. When the two who had started on footreached the waiting horse, they mounted, rode on past the other couplefor a mile or so, dismounted, tied, and walked on; and so on. It wasalso a universal and courteous as it was a pleasant custom for friendsto ride out on the road a few miles with any departing guest or friend, and then bid them God speed agatewards. 

In 1704 a Boston schoolmistress named Madam Knights rode from Boston toNew York on horseback. She was probably the first woman to make thejourney, and it was a great and daring undertaking. She had as acompanion the "post. " This was the mail-carrier, who also rode onhorseback. One of his duties was to assist and be kind to all personswho cared to journey in his company. The first regular mail started fromNew York to Boston on January 1, 1673. The postman carried two"portmantles, " which were crammed with letters and parcels. He did notchange horses till he reached Hartford. He was ordered to look out andreport the condition of all ferries, fords, and roads. He had to be"active, stout, indefatigable, and honest. " When he delivered his mailit was laid on a table at an inn, and any one who wished looked over allthe letters, then took and paid the postage (which was very high) on anyaddressed to himself. It was usually about a month from this setting outof "the post" in winter, till his return. As late certainly as 1730 themail was carried from New York to Albany in the winter by a "foot-post. "He went up the Hudson River, and lonely enough it must have been;probably he skated up when the ice was good. This mail was only sent atirregular intervals. 

In 1760 there were but eight mails a year from Philadelphia to thePotomac River, and even then the post-rider need not start till he hadreceived enough letters to pay the expenses of the trip. It was not tillpostal affairs were placed in the capable and responsible hands ofBenjamin Franklin that there were any regular or trustworthy mails. 

The journal and report of Hugh Finlay, a post-office surveyor in 1773 ofthe mail service from Quebec to St. Augustine, Florida, tells of thevicissitudes of mail-matter even at that later day. In some places thedeputy, as the postmaster was called, had no office, so his family roomswere constantly invaded. Occasionally a tavern served as post-office;letters were thrown down on a table and if the weather was bad, orsmallpox raged, or the deputy were careless, they were not forwarded formany days. Letters that arrived might lie on the table or bar-counterfor days for any one to pull over, until the owner chanced to arrive andclaim them. Good service could scarcely be expected from any deputy, forhis salary was paid according to the number of letters coming to hisoffice; and as private mail-carriage constantly went on, thoughforbidden by British law, the deputy suffered. "If an information werelodg'd but an informer wou'd get tar'd and feather'd, no jury wou'd findthe fact. " The government-riders were in truth the chief offenders. Anyship's captain, or wagon-driver, or post-rider could carry merchandise;therefore small sham bundles of paper, straw, or chips would be tied toa large sealed packet of letter, and both be exempt from postage paid tothe Crown. 

The post-rider between Boston and Newport loaded his carriage withbundles real and sham, which delayed him long in delivery. He bought andsold on commission along this road; and in violation of law he carriedmany letters to his own profit. He took twenty-six hours to go eightymiles. Had the Newport deputy dared to complain, he would have incurredmuch odium and been declared a "friend of slavery and oppression. "

"Old Herd, " the rider from Saybrook to New York, had been in the serviceforty-six years and had made a good estate. He coolly took postage ofall way-letters as his perquisite; was a money carrier and transferrer, all advantage to his own pocket; carried merchandise; returned horsesfor travellers; and when Finlay saw him he was waiting for a yoke ofoxen he was paid for fetching along some miles. A Pennsylvaniapost-rider, an aged man, occupied himself as he slowly jogged along byknitting mittens and stockings. Not always were mail portmanteauxproperly locked; hence many letters were lost and the pulling in and outof bundles defaced the letters. 

Of course so much horseback riding made it necessary to havehorse-blocks in front of nearly all houses. In course of time stoneswere set every mile on the principal roads to tell the distance fromtown to town. Benjamin Franklin set milestones the entire way on thepost-road from Boston to Philadelphia. He rode in a chaise over theroad; and a machine which he had invented was attached to the chaise;and it was certainly the first cyclometer that went on that road, overwhich so many cyclometers have passed during the last five years. Itmeasured the miles as he travelled. When he had ridden a mile hestopped; from a heavy cart loaded with milestones, which kept alongsidethe chaise, a stone was dropped which was afterwards set by a gang ofmen. 

A number of old colonial milestones are still standing. There is one inWorcester, on what was the "New Connecticut Path"; one in Springfield onthe "Bay Path, " and there are several of Benjamin Franklin's setting, one being at Stratford, Connecticut. 

The inland transportation of freight was carried on in the colonies justas it was in Europe, on the backs of pack-horses. Very interestinghistorical evidence in relation to the methods of transportation in themiddle of the eighteenth century may be found in the ingeniousadvertisement and address with which Benjamin Franklin raisedtransportation facilities for Braddock's army in 1755. This is one ofhis most characteristic literary productions. Braddock's appeals to thePhiladelphia Assembly for a rough wagon-road and wagons for the armysucceeded in raising only twenty-five wagons. Franklin visited him inhis desolate plight and agreed to assist him, and appealed to the publicto send to him for the use of the army a hundred and fifty wagons andfifteen hundred pack-horses; for the latter Franklin offered to pay twoshillings a day each, as long as used, if provided with a pack-saddle. Twenty horses were sent with their loads to the camp as gifts to theBritish officers. As a good and definite list of the load one of thesepack-horses was expected to carry (as well as a record of the kind ofprovisions grateful to an officer of that day) let me give aninventory:--

 Six pounds loaf-sugar, Six pounds muscovado sugar, One pound green tea, One pound bohea tea, Six pounds ground coffee, Six pounds chocolate, One-half chest best white biscuit, One-half pound pepper, One quart white vinegar, Two dozen bottles old Madeira wine, Two gallons Jamaica spirits, One bottle flour of mustard, Two well-cured hams, One-half dozen cured tongues, Six pounds rice, Six pounds raisins, One Gloucester cheese, One keg containing 20 lbs. Best butter. 

The wagons and horses were all lost after Braddock's defeat, or wereseized by the French and Indians, and Franklin had many anxious monthsof responsibility for damages from the owners; but I am confident theofficers got all the provisions. Franklin gathered the wagons in Yorkand Lancaster; no two English shires could have done better at that timethan did these Pennsylvania counties. 

In Pennsylvania, western Virginia, and Ohio, pack-horses long were used, and a pretty picture is drawn by Doddridge and many other localhistorians of the trains of these horses with their gay collars andstuffed bells, as, laden with furs, ginseng, and snakeroot, they fileddown the mountain roads to the towns, and came home laden with salt, nails, tea, pewter plates, etc. At night the horses were hobbled, andthe clappers of their bells were loosened; the ringing prevented thehorses being lost. The animals started on their journey with two hundredpounds' burden, of which part was provender for horse and man, which wasleft at convenient relays to be taken up on the way home. Two men couldmanage fifteen pack-horses, which were tethered successively each to thepack-saddle of the one in front of him. One man led the foremost horse, and the driver followed the file to watch the packs and urge on thelaggards. Their numbers were vast; five hundred were counted at one timein Carlisle, Pennsylvania, going westward. It was a costly method oftransportation. Mr. Howland says that in 1784 the expense of carrying aton's weight from Philadelphia to Erie by pack-horses was $249. It isinteresting to note that the routes taken by those men, skilled only inhumble woodcraft, were the same ones followed in later years by theengineers of the turnpikes and railroads. 

As the roads were somewhat better in Pennsylvania than in some otherprovinces, and more needed, so wagons soon were far greater in number;indeed, during the Revolution nearly all the wagons and horses used bythe army came from that state. There was developed in Pennsylvania bythe soft soil of these many roads, as well as by various topographicalconditions, a splendid example of a true American vehicle, one which wasfor a long time the highest type of a commodious freight-carrier in thisor any other country--the Conestoga wagon, "the finest wagon the worldhas ever known. " They were first used in any considerable number about1760. They had broad wheel-tires, and one of the peculiarities was adecided curve in the bottom, analogous to that of a galley or canoe, which made it specially fitted for traversing mountain roads; for thiscurved bottom prevented freight from slipping too far at either end whengoing up or down hill. This body was universally painted a bright blue, and furnished with sideboards of an equally vivid red. The wagon-bodieswere arched over with six or eight stately bows, of which the middleones were the lowest, and the others rose gradually to front and reartill the end bows were nearly of equal height. Over them all wasstretched a strong, white, hempen cover, well corded down at the sidesand ends. These wagons could be loaded up to the bows, and could carryfour to six tons in weight. The rates between Philadelphia andPittsburgh were about two dollars a hundred pounds. The horses, four toseven in number, were magnificent, often matched throughout; some wereall dapple-gray, or all bay. The harnesses, of best materials andappearance, were costly; each horse had a large housing of deerskin orheavy bearskin trimmed with deep scarlet fringe; while the head-stallwas tied with bunches of gay ribbons. Bell-teams were common; each horseexcept the saddle-horse then had a full set of bells tied withhigh-colored ribbons. 

The horses were highly fed; and when the driver, seated on thesaddle-horse, drew rein on the prancing leader and flourished his finebull-hide London whip, making the silk snap and tingle round theleader's ears, every horse started off with the ponderous load with agrace and ease that was beautiful to see. 

The wagons were first used in the Conestoga valley, and most extensivelyused there; and the sleek powerful draught-horses known as the Conestogabreed were attached to them, hence their name. These teams were objectsof pride to their owners, objects of admiration and attention whereverthey appeared, and are objects of historical interest and satisfactionto-day. 

Often a prosperous teamster would own several Conestoga wagons, anddriving the leading and handsomest team himself would start off hisproud procession. From twenty to a hundred would follow in close row. Large numbers were constantly passing. At one time ten thousand ran fromPhiladelphia to other towns. Josiah Quincy told of the road atLancaster being lined with them. The scene on the road between theCumberland valley and Greensburg, where there are five distinct andnoble mountain ranges, --Tuscarora, Rays Hill, Alleghany, Laurel Hills, and Chestnut Ridge, --when a long train of white-topped Conestoga wagonsappeared and wound along the mountain sides, was picturesque andbeautiful with a charm unparalleled to-day. 

 "----Many a fleet of them In one long upward winding row. It ever was a noble sight As from the distant mountain height Or quiet valley far below, Their snow-white covers looked like sail. "

There were two classes of Conestoga wagons and wagoners. The "Regulars, "or men who made it their constant and only business; and "Militia. " Alocal poet thus describes these outfits:--

 "Militia-men drove narrow treads, Four horses and plain red Dutch beds, And always carried grub and feed. "

They were farmers or common teamsters who made occasional trips, usuallyin winter time, and did some carriage for others, and drove but fourhorses with their wagons. The "Regulars" had broad tires, carried nofeed for horses nor food for themselves, but both classes of teamsterscarried coarse mattresses and blankets, which they spread side by side, and row after row, on the bar-room floor of the tavern at which they"put up. " Their horses when unharnessed fed from long troughs hitched tothe wagon-pole. The wagons that plied between the Delaware and the smallcity of Pittsburgh were called Pitt-teams. 

The life of the Conestoga wagon did not end even with the establishmentof railroads in the Eastern states; farther and farther west itpenetrated, ever chosen by emigrants and travellers to the frontiers;and at last in its old age it had an equal career of usefulness as the"prairie-schooner, " in which vast numbers of families safely crossed theprairies of our far West. The white tilts of the wagons thus passed andrepassed till our own day. 

Four-wheeled wagons were but little used in New England till after theWar of 1812. Two-wheeled carts and sleds carried inland freight, whichwas chiefly transported over the snow in the winter. 

The Conestoga wagon of the past century was far ahead of anything inEngland at that date; indeed Mr. C. W. Ernst, the best authority I knowon the subject, says we had in every way far better traffic facilitiesat that time than England. In other ways we excelled. Though Finlayfound many defects in the postal service in 1773, he also found theStavers mail-coach plying between Boston and Portsmouth long beforeEngland had such a thing. Mr. Ernst says: "The Stavers mail-coach wasstunning; used six horses when roads were bad, and never was late. Theyhad no mail-coaches in England till after the Revolution, and I believeMassachusetts men introduced the idea in England. "

We are apt to grow retrospectively sentimental over the delights, æsthetic and physical, of ancient stage-coach days. Those days are notso ancient as many fancy. The first stage-coach which ran directly fromPhiladelphia to New York in 1766--and primitive enough it was--wascalled "the flying-machine, a good stage-wagon set on springs. " Itsswift trip occupied two days in good weather. It was but a year laterthan the original stage-coach between Edinburgh and Glasgow. At thattime, in favorable weather, the coach between London and Edinburgh madethe trip in thirteen days. The London mail-coach in its palmiest dayscould make this trip in forty-three hours and a half. As early as 1718Jonathan Wardwell advertised that he would run a stage to Rhode Island. In 1767 a stage-coach was run during the summer months between Bostonand Providence; in 1770 a stage-chaise started between Salem and Bostonand a post-chaise between Boston and Portsmouth the following year. Asearly as 1732 some common-carrier lines had wagons which would carry afew passengers. Let us hear the testimony of some travellers as to theglorious pleasure of stage-coach travelling. Describing a trip betweenBoston and New York towards the end of the last century President Quincyof Harvard College said:--

 "The carriages were old and the shackling and much of the harness made of ropes. One pair of horses carried us eighteen miles. We generally reached our resting-place for the night if no accident intervened, at ten o'clock, and after a frugal supper went to bed, with a notice that we should be called at three next morning, which generally proved to be half-past two, and then, whether it snowed or rained, the traveller must rise and make ready, by the help of a horn-lantern and a farthing candle, and proceed on his way over bad roads, sometimes getting out to help the coachman lift the coach out of a quagmire or rut, and arrived in New York after a week's hard travelling, wondering at the ease as well as the expedition with which our journey was effected. "

The _Columbia Centinel_ of April 24, 1793, advertised a new line of"small genteel and easy stage-carriages" from Boston to New York withfour inside passengers, and smart horses. Many of the announcements ofthe day have pictures of the coaches. They usually resemble marketwagons with round, canvas-covered tops, and the driver is seated outsidethe body of the wagon with his feet on the foot-board. Trunks weresmall, covered with deerskin or pigskin, studded with brass nails; andeach traveller took his trunk under his seat and feet. 

The poet, Moore, gives in rhyme his testimony of Virginia roads in1800:--

 "Dear George, though every bone is aching After the shaking I've had this week over ruts and ridges, And bridges Made of a few uneasy planks, In open ranks, Over rivers of mud whose names alone Would make knock the knees of stoutest man. "

The traveller Weld, in 1795, gave testimony that the bridges were sopoor that the driver had always to stop and arrange the loose planks erehe dared cross, and he adds:--

 "The driver frequently had to call to the passengers in the stage to lean out of the carriage first on one side then on the other, to prevent it from oversetting in the deep roads with which the road abounds. 'Now, gentlemen, to the right, ' upon which the passengers all stretched their bodies half-way out of the carriage to balance on that side. 'Now, gentlemen, to the left, ' and so on. "

The coach in which this pleasure trip was taken is shown in theillustration entitled "American Stage-wagon. " It is copied from a firstedition of _Weld's Travels_. 

Ann Warder, in her journey from Philadelphia to New York in 1759, notestwo overturned and abandoned stage-wagons at Perth Amboy; and many othertravellers give similar testimony. In 1796 the trip from Philadelphia toBaltimore took five days. 

The growth in stage-coaches and travel came with the turnpike at thebeginning of this century. In transportation and travel, improvement ofroadways is ever associated with improvement of vehicles. The firstextensive turnpike was the one between Philadelphia and Lancaster, builtin 1792. The growth and the cost of these roads may be briefly mentionedby quoting a statement from the annual message of the governor ofPennsylvania in 1838, that that commonwealth then had two thousand fivehundred miles of turnpikes which had cost $37, 000, 000. 

Many of these turnpikes were beautiful and splendid roads; for instance, the "Mohawk and Hudson Turnpike, " which ran in a straight line fromAlbany to Schenectady, was ornamented and shaded with two rows of thequickly growing and fashionable poplar-trees and thickly punctuated withtaverns. On one turnpike there were sixty-five taverns in sixty miles. The dashing stage-coach accorded well with this fine thoroughfare. 

With the splendid turnpikes came the glorious coaching days. In 1827 theTraveller's Register reported eight hundred stage-coaches arriving, andas many leaving Boston each week. The forty-mile road from Boston toProvidence sometimes saw twenty coaches going each way. The editor ofthe _Providence Gazette_ wrote: "We were rattled from Boston toProvidence in four hours and fifty minutes--if any one wants to gofaster he may go to Kentucky and charter a streak of lightning. " Therewere four rival lines on the Cumberland road, --the National, GoodIntent, Pioneer, and June Bug. Some spirited races the old stage-roadwitnessed between the rival lines. The distance from Wheeling toCumberland, one hundred and thirty-two miles, was regularly accomplishedin twenty-four hours. No heavy luggage was carried and but ninepassengers; fourteen coaches rolled off together--one was a mail-coachwith a horn. Relays were every ten miles; teams were changed before thecoach ceased rocking; one driver boasted of changing and harnessing hisfour horses in four minutes. Lady travellers were quickly thrust in theopen door and their bandboxes after them. Scant time was there forrefreshment, save by uncorking of bottles. The keen test and acuterivalry between drivers came in the delivery of the President's Message. Dan Gordon carried the message thirty-two miles in two hours and thirtyminutes, changing horses three times. Bill Noble carried the messagefrom Wheeling to Hagerstown, a hundred and eighty-five miles, in fifteenand a half hours. 

In 1818 the Eastern Stage Company was chartered in the state of NewHampshire. The route was this: a stage started from Portsmouth at 9 A. M. ;passengers dined at Topsfield; thence through Danvers and Salem;back the following day, dining at Newburyport. The capital stock wasfour hundred and twenty-five shares at a hundred dollars par. In 1834the stock was worth two hundred dollars a share. The company ownedseveral hundred horses. It was on a coach of this line that Henry Clayrode from Pleasant Street, Salem, to Tremont House, Boston, in exactlyan hour; and on the route extended to Portland, Daniel Webster wascarried at the rate of sixteen English miles an hour from Boston toPortland to sign the Ashburton Treaty. 

The middle of the century saw the beginning of the end of coaching inall the states that had been colonies. Further west the old stage-coachhad to trundle in order to exist at all: Ohio, Indiana, Missouri, acrossthe plains, and then over the Rocky Mountains to Salt Lake. The roadfrom Carson to Plainville gave the crack ride, and the driver woreyellow kid gloves. The coach known as the Concord wagon, drawn by sixhorses, still makes cheerful the out-of-the-way roads of our Westernstates, and recalls the life of olden times. The story of spirited andgay life still exists in the Wells Fargo Express. The usefulness of theConcord coach is not limited to the western nor the northern portion ofour continent; in South America it flourishes, banishing all rivals. 

Canal travel and transportation were proposed at the close of provincialdays, and a few short canals were built. Benjamin Franklin was earlyawake to their practicability and value. Among the stock-owners of theDismal Swamp Canal was George Washington, and he was equally interestedin the Potomac Canal. 

The Erie Canal, first proposed to the New York legislature in 1768, wascompleted in 1825. There was considerable passenger travel on this canalat "a cent and a half a mile, a mile and a half an hour. " Horace Greeleyhas given an excellent picture of this leisurely travel; it was assertedby some that stage-coaches were doomed by the canal-boat, but theycontinued to exist till they encountered a more formidable rival. 

Until turnpike days all small carriages were two-wheeled; chaises, chairs, and sulkies were those generally used. The chaise and harnessused by Jonathan Trumbull--"Brother Jonathan"--are here shown. Withregard to private conveyances, whether coaches, chaises, or chairs, thecolonies kept close step from earliest days with the mother-countries. Randolph noted with envy the Boston coaches of the seventeenth century. Parson Thatcher was accused and reprehended in 1675 for making visitswith a coach and four. Coaches were taxed both in England and America;so we know exactly how plentiful they were. There were as many inMassachusetts in 1750 in proportion to the number of inhabitants asthere were in England in 1830. Judge Sewall's diary often refers toprivate coaches; and one of the most amusing scenes it depicts is hiscontinued and ingenious argument when wooing Madam Winthrop for histhird wife, when she stipulated that he should keep a coach, and hisfrugal mind disposed him not to do it. 

Coach-building prospered in the colonies; Lucas and Paddock in Boston, Ross in New York, made beautiful and rich coaches. Materials were ampleand varied in the New World for carriage-building; horseflesh--notover-choice, to be sure--became over-plentiful; it was said that no manever walked in America save a vagabond or a fool. A coach made for MadamAngelica Campbell of Schenectady, New York, by coach-builder Ross, in1790, is here shown. It is now owned by Mr. John D. Campbell ofRotterdam, New York. 

Sleighs were common in New York a half-century before they were inBoston. Madam Knights noted the fast racing in sleighs in New York whenshe was there in 1704. 

One other curious conveyance of colonial days should be spoken of, --asedan-chair. This was a strong covered chair fastened on two bars withhandles like a litter, and might be carried by two or four persons. Whensedan-chairs were so much used in England, they were sure to be somewhatused in cities in America. One was presented to Governor Winthrop asearly as 1646, portion of a capture from a Spanish galleon. Judge Sewallwrote in 1706, "Five Indians carried Mr. Bromfield in a chair. " This wasin the country, down on Cape Cod, and doubtless four Indians carried himwhile one rested. As late as 1789 Eliza Quincy saw Dr. Franklin ridingin a sedan-chair in Philadelphia. 

The establishment and building of roads, bridges, and opening of innsshow that mutual interest which marks civilization, and separates usfrom the lonely, selfish life of a savage. Soon inns were foundeverywhere in the Northern colonies. In New England, New York, andPennsylvania an inn was called an ordinary, a victualling, a cook-shop, or a tavern before we had our modern word hotel. 

Board was not very high at early inns; the prices were regulated by thedifferent towns. In 1633 the Salem innkeeper could only have sixpencefor a meal. This was at the famous Anchor Tavern, which was kept as ahostelry for nearly two centuries. At the Ship Tavern, board, lodging, wine at dinner, and beer between meals cost three shillings a day. Greatcare was taken by the magistrates to choose responsible men and women tokeep taverns, and they would not permit too many taverns in one town. Atfirst the tavern-keeper could not sell sack (which was sherry), norstronger intoxicating liquor to travellers, but he could sell beer, provided it was good, for a penny a quart. Nor could he sell cakes orbuns except at a wedding or funeral. He could not allow games to beplayed, nor singing or dancing to take place. 

We know from Shakespeare's plays that the different rooms in Englishinns had names. This was also the custom in New England. The StarChamber, Rose and Sun Chamber, Blue Chamber, Jerusalem Chamber, weresome of them. Many of the taverns of Revolutionary days and some ofcolonial times are still standing. A few have even been taverns sincefirst built; others have served many other uses. A well-preserved oldhouse, built in 1690 in Sudbury, Massachusetts, was originally known asthe Red Horse Tavern, but has acquired greater fame as the Wayside Innof Longfellow's Tales. Its tap-room with raftered ceiling and cage-likebar with swinging gate is a picturesque room, and is one of the few oldtap-rooms left unaltered in New England. 

Every inn had a name, usually painted on its swinging sign-board, withsome significant emblem. These names were simply repetitions of oldEnglish tavern-signs until Revolutionary days, when patriotic landlordseagerly invented and adopted names significant of the new nation. Thescarlet coat of King George became the blue and buff of GeorgeWashington; and the eagle of the United States took the place of theBritish lion. 

The sign-board was an interesting survival of feudal times, and with itsold-time carved and forged companions, such as vanes and weathercocks, doorknockers and figureheads, formed a picturesque element of decorationand symbolism. Many chapters might be written on historic, commemorative, emblematic, heraldic, biblical, humorous, or significantsigns, nearly all of which have vanished from public gaze, as hasdisappeared also the general incapacity to read, which made pictorialdevices a necessity. Gilders, painter-stainers, smiths, and joiners allhelped to make the tavern-sign a thing of varied workmanship if not ofart. It is said that Philadelphia excelled in the quantity and qualityof her sign-boards. With fair roads for colonial days, the best andamplest system of transportation, and the splendid Conestoga wagons, great inns multiplied throughout Pennsylvania. In Baltimore both tavernsand signs were many and varied, from the Three Loggerheads to the IndianQueen with its "two hundred guest-rooms with a bell in every room, " andthe Fountain Inn built around a shady court, with galleries on everystory, like the Tabard Inn at Southwark. 

The swinging sign-board of John Nash's Tavern at Amherst, Massachusetts, is here reproduced from the _History of Amherst_. It is a good type ofthe ordinary sign-board which was found hanging in front of every taverna century ago. 

In Virginia and the Carolinas taverns were not so plentiful nor sonecessary; for a traveller might ride from Maryland to Georgia, and besure of a welcome at every private house on the way. Some planters, eager for company and news, stationed negroes at the gate to invitepassers-by on the post-road to come into the house and be entertained. Berkeley, in his _History of Virginia_, wrote:--

 "The inhabitants are very courteous to travellers, who need no other recommendation than being human creatures. A stranger has no more to do but to inquire upon the road where any gentleman or good housekeeper lives, and then he may depend upon being received with hospitality. This good-nature is so general among their people, that the gentry, when they go abroad, order their principal servants to entertain all visitors with everything the plantation affords; and the poor planters who have but one bed, will often sit up, or lie upon a form or couch all night, to make room for a weary traveller to repose himself after his journey. "

So universal was this custom of free entertainment that it was a law inVirginia that unless there had been a distinct agreement to pay forboard and shelter, no pay could be claimed from any guest, no matter howlong he remained. In the few taverns that existed prices were low, abouta shilling a dinner; and it was ordered that the meal must be wholesomeand good. 

The governor of New Netherlands at first entertained all visitors to NewAmsterdam at his house in the fort. But as commerce increased he foundthis hospitality burdensome, and a Harberg or tavern was built; it waslater used as a city hall. 

In England throughout the seventeenth century, and indeed much later, traversing the great cities by night was a matter of some danger. Thestreets were ill-lighted, were full of holes and mud and filth, and wereinfested with thieves. Worse still, groups of drunken and dissipatedyoung men of wealth, calling themselves Mohocks, Scourers, and othernames, roamed the dark streets armed with swords and bludgeons, assaulting, tormenting, and injuring every one whom they met, who hadthe ill fortune to be abroad at night. 

There was nothing of that sort known in American cities; there waslittle noise or roistering, no highway robbery, comparatively littlepetty stealing. The streets were ill-paved and dirty, but not foul withthe accumulated dirt of centuries as in London. The streets in nearlyall cities were unlighted. In 1697 New Yorkers were ordered to have alantern and candle hung out on a pole from every seventh house. And asthe watchman walked around he called out, "Lanthorn, and a wholecandell-light. Hang out your lights. " The watchman was called arattle-watch, and carried a long staff and a lantern and a large rattleor klopper, which he struck to frighten away thieves. And all night longhe called out each hour, and told the weather. For instance, he calledout, "Past midnight, and all's well"; "One o'clock and fair winds, " or"Five o'clock and cloudy skies. " Thus one could lie safe in bed and ifhe chanced to waken could know that the friendly rattle-watch was nearat hand, and what was the weather and the time of night. In 1658 NewYork had in all ten watchmen, who were like our modern police; to-day ithas many thousands. 

In New England the constables and watch were all carefully appointed bylaw. They carried black staves six feet long, tipped with brass, andhence were called tipstaves. The night watch was called a bell-man. Helooked out for fire and thieves and other disorders, and called the timeof the night, and the weather. The pay was small, often but a shilling anight, and occasionally a "coat of kersey. " In large towns, as Bostonand Salem, thirteen "sober, honest men and householders" were the nightwatch. The highest in the community, even the magistrates, took theirturn at the watch, and were ordered to walk two together, a young manwith "one of the soberer sort. "

CHAPTER XV

SUNDAY IN THE COLONIES

The first building used as a church at the Plymouth colony was the fort, and to it the Pilgrim fathers and mothers and children walked on Sundayreverently and gravely, three in a row, the men fully armed with swordsand guns, till they built a meeting-house in 1648. In other New Englandsettlements, the first services were held in tents, under trees, orunder any shelter. The settler who had a roomy house often had also themeeting. The first Boston meeting-house had mud walls, a thatched roof, and earthen floor. It was used till 1640, and some very thrilling andinspiring scenes were enacted within its humble walls. Usually theearliest meeting-houses were log houses, with clay-filled chinks, androofs thatched with reeds and long grass, like the dwelling-houses. AtSalem is still preserved one of the early churches. The second and moredignified form of New England meeting-house was usually a square woodenbuilding with a truncated pyramidal roof, surmounted often with abelfry, which served as a lookout station and held a bell, from whichthe bell-rope hung down to the floor in the centre of the church aisle. The old church at Hingham, Massachusetts, still standing and still used, is a good specimen of this shape. It was built in 1681, and is known asthe "Old Ship, " and is a comely and dignified building. As more elegantand costly dwelling-houses were built, so were better meeting-houses;and the third form with lofty wooden steeple at one end, in the styleof architecture invented by Sir Christopher Wren, after the great fireof London, multiplied and increased until every town was graced with anexample. In all these the main body of the edifice remained as bare, prosaic, and undecorated as were the preceding churches, while all theambition of both builders and congregation spent itself in the steeple. These were so varied and at times so beautiful that a chapter might bewritten on New England steeples. The Old South Church of Boston is agood example of this school of ecclesiastical architecture, and is awell-known historic building as well. 

The earliest meeting-houses had oiled paper in the windows, and whenglass came it was not set with putty, but was nailed in. The windows hadwhat were termed "heavy current side-shutters. " The outside of themeeting-house was not "colored, " or "stained" as it was then termed, butwas left to turn gray and weather-stained, and sometimes moss-coveredwith the dampness of the great shadowing hemlock and fir trees whichwere usually planted around New England churches. The firstmeeting-houses were often decorated in a very singular and grotesquemanner. Rewards were paid by all the early towns for killing wolves; andany person who killed a wolf brought the head to the meeting-house andnailed it to the outer wall; the fierce grinning heads and splashes ofblood made a grim and horrible decoration. All kinds of notices werealso nailed to the meeting-house door where all of the congregationmight readily see them, --notices of town-meetings, of sales of cattle orfarms, lists of town-officers, prohibitions from selling guns to theIndians, notices of intended marriages, vendues, etc. It was the onlymeeting-place, the only method of advertisement. In front of the churchwas usually a row of stepping-stones or horse-blocks, for nearly allcame on horseback; and often on the meeting-house green stood thestocks, pillory, and whipping-post. 

A verse from an old-fashioned hymn reads thus:

 "New England's Sabbath day Is heaven-like, still, and pure, When Israel walks the way Up to the temple's door. The time we tell When there to come, By beat of drum, Or sounding shell. "

The first church at Jamestown, Virginia, gathered the congregation bybeat of drum; but while attendants of the Episcopal, Roman Catholic, and Dutch Reformed churches in the New World were in general beingsummoned to divine service by the ringing of a bell hung either over thechurch or in the branches of a tree by its side, New England Puritanswere summoned, as the hymn relates, by drum, or horn, or shell. Theshell was a great conch-shell, and a man was hired to blow it--amournful sound--at the proper time, which was usually nine o'clock inthe morning. In Stockbridge, Massachusetts, the church-shell wasafterwards used for many years as a signal to begin and stop work in thehaying field. In Windsor, Connecticut, a man walked up and down on aplatform on the top of the meeting-house and blew a trumpet to summonworshippers. Many churches had a church drummer, who stood on the roofor in the belfry and drummed; a few raised a flag as a summons, or fireda gun. 

Within the meeting-house all was simple enough: raftered walls, puncheonand sanded or earthen floors, rows of benches, a few pews, all ofunpainted wood, and a pulpit which was usually a high desk overhung by aheavy sounding-board, which was fastened to the roof by a slender metalrod. The pulpit was sometimes called a scaffold. When pews were builtthey were square, with high partition walls, and had narrow, uncomfortable seats round three sides. The word was always spelled"pue"; and they were sometimes called "pits. " A little girl in themiddle of this century attended a service in an old church which stillretained the old-fashioned square pews; she exclaimed, in a loud voice, "What! must I be shut in a closet and sit on a shelf?" These narrow, shelf-like seats were usually hung on hinges and could be turned upagainst the pew-walls during the long psalm-tunes and prayers; so themembers of the congregation could lean against the pew-walls for supportas they stood. When the seats were let down, they fell with a heavy slamthat could be heard half a mile away in the summer time, when thewindows of the meeting-house were open. Lines from an old poem read:--

 "And when at last the loud Amen Fell from aloft, how quickly then The seats came down with heavy rattle, Like musketry in fiercest battle. "

A few of the old-time meeting-houses, with high pulpit, square pews, anddeacons' seats, still remain in New England. The interior of the RockyHill meeting-house at Salisbury, Massachusetts, is here shown. It fullyillustrates the words of the poet:--

 "Old house of Puritanic wood Through whose unpainted windows streamed On seats as primitive and rude As Jacob's pillow when he dreamed, The white and undiluted day--"

The seats were carefully and thoughtfully assigned by a church committeecalled the Seating Committee, the best seats being given to olderpersons of wealth and dignity who attended the church. Whittier wrote ofthis custom:--

 "In the goodly house of worship, where in order due and fit, As by public vote directed, classed and ranked the people sit. Mistress first and good wife after, clerkly squire before the clown, From the brave coat lace-embroidered to the gray coat shading down. "

Many of the plans for "seating the meeting-house" have been preserved;the pews and their assigned occupants are clearly designated. A copy isshown of one now in Deerfield Memorial Hall. 

In the early meeting-houses men and women sat on separate sides of themeeting-house, as in Quaker meetings till our own time. Sometimes agroup of young women or of young men were permitted to sit in thegallery together. Little girls sat beside their mothers or on footstoolsat their feet, or sometimes on the gallery stairs; and I have heard of alittle cage or frame to hold Puritan babies in meeting. Boys did not sitwith their families, but were in groups by themselves, usually on thepulpit and gallery stairs, where tithing-men watched over them. InSalem, in 1676, it was ordered by the town that "all ye boyes of yetowne are appointed to sitt upon ye three paire of stairs in yemeeting-house, and Wm. Lord is appointed to look after ye boys upon yepulpitt stairs. "

In Stratford the tithing-man was ordered to "watch over youths ofdisorderly carriage, and see they behave themselves comelie, and usesuch raps and blows as is in his discretion meet. " In Durham anymisbehaving boy was punished publicly after the service was over. Wewould nowadays scarcely seat twenty or thirty active boys together inchurch if we wished them to be models of attention and dignifiedbehavior; but after the boys' seats were removed from the pulpit stairsthey were all turned in together in a "boys' pew" in the gallery. Therewas a boys' pew in Windsor, Connecticut, as late as 1845, and prettynoisy it usually was. A certain small boy in Connecticut misbehavedhimself on Sunday, and his wickedness was specified by the justice ofpeace as follows:--

 "A Rude and Idel Behaver in the meeting hous. Such as Smiling and Larfing and Intiseing others to the Same Evil. Such as Larfing or Smiling or puling the hair of his nayber Benoni Simkins in the time of Publick Worship. Such as throwing Sister Penticost Perkins on the Ice, it being Saboth day, between the meeting hous and his plaes of abode. "

I can picture well the wicked scene; poor, meek little Benoni Simpkinstrying to behave well in meeting, and not cry out when the young "wantongospeller" pulled her hair, and unfortunate Sister Perkins tripped up onthe ice by the young rascal. 

Another vain youth in Andover, Massachusetts, was brought up before themagistrate, and it was charged that he "sported and played, and byIndecent gestures and wry faces caused laughter and misbehavior in thebeholders. " The girls were just as wicked; they slammed down thepew-seats. Tabatha Morgus of Norwich "prophaned the Lord's daye" by her"rude and indecent behavior in Laughing and playing in ye tyme ofservice. " On Long Island godless boys "ran raesses" on the Sabbath and"talked of vane things, " and as for Albany children, they played hookeyand coasted down hill on Sunday to the scandal of every one evidently, except their parents. When the boys were separated and families sat inpews together, all became orderly in meeting. 

The deacons sat in a "Deacons' Pue" just in front of the pulpit;sometimes also there was a "Deaf Pue" in front for those who were hardof hearing. After choirs were established the singers' seats wereusually in the gallery; and high up under the beams in a loft sat thenegroes and Indians. 

If any person seated himself in any place which was not assigned to him, he had to pay a fine, usually of several shillings, for each offence. But in old Newbury men were fined as high as twenty-seven pounds eachfor persistent and unruly sitting in seats belonging to other members. 

The churches were all unheated. Few had stoves until the middle of thiscentury. The chill of the damp buildings, never heated from autumn tospring, and closed and dark throughout the week, was hard for every oneto bear. In some of the early log-built meeting-houses, fur bags made ofwolfskins were nailed to the seats; and in winter church attendantsthrust their feet into them. Dogs, too, were permitted to enter themeeting-house and lie on their masters' feet. Dog-whippers ordog-pelters were appointed to control and expel them when they becameunruly or unbearable. Women and children usually carried foot-stoves, which were little pierced metal boxes that stood on wooden legs, andheld hot coals. During the noon intermission the half-frozen churchattendants went to a neighboring house or tavern, or to a noon-house toget warm. A noon-house or "Sabba-day house, " as it was often called, wasa long low building built near the meeting-house, with horse-stalls atone end and a chimney at the other. In it the farmers kept, says onechurch record, "their duds and horses. " A great fire of logs was builtthere each Sunday, and before its cheerful blaze noonday luncheons ofbrown bread, doughnuts, or gingerbread were eaten, and foot-stoves werefilled. Boys and girls were not permitted to indulge in idle talk inthose noon-houses, much less to play. Often two or three families builta noon-house together, or the church built a "Society-house, " and therethe children had a sermon read to them by a deacon during the "nooning";sometimes the children had to explain aloud the notes they had takenduring the sermon in the morning. Thus they throve, as a minister wrote, on the "Good Fare of brown Bread and the Gospel. " There was no nearerapproach to a Sunday-school until this century. 

The services were not shortened because the churches were uncomfortable. By the side of the pulpit stood a brass-bound hour-glass which wasturned by the tithing-man or clerk, but it did not hasten the closing ofthe sermon. Sermons two or three hours long were customary, and prayersfrom one to two hours in length. When the first church in Woburn wasdedicated, the minister preached a sermon nearly five hours long. ADutch traveller recorded a prayer four hours long on a Fast Day. Manyprayers were two hours long. The doors were closed and watched by thetithing-man, and none could leave even if tired or restless unless withgood excuse. The singing of the psalms was tedious and unmusical, justas it was in churches of all denominations both in America and Englandat that date. Singing was by ear and very uncertain, and thecongregation had no notes, and many had no psalm-books, and hence nowords. So the psalms were "lined" or "deaconed"; that is, a line wasread by the deacon, and then sung by the congregation. Some psalms whenlined and sung occupied half an hour, during which the congregationstood. There were but eight or nine tunes in general use, and even thesewere often sung incorrectly. There were no church organs to help keepthe singers together, but sometimes pitch-pipes were used to set thekey. Bass-viols, clarionets, and flutes were played upon at a later datein meeting to help the singing. Violins were too associated with dancemusic to be thought decorous for church music. Still the New Englandchurches clung to and loved their poor confused psalm-singing as one oftheir few delights, and whenever a Puritan, even in road or field, heardthe distant sound of a psalm-tune he removed his hat and bowed his headin prayer. 

Contributions at first were not collected by the deacons, but the entirecongregation, one after another, walked up to the deacons' seat andplaced gifts of money, goods, wampum, or promissory notes in a box. Whenthe services were ended, all remained in the pews until the minister andhis wife had walked up the aisle and out of the church. 

The strict observance of Sunday as a holy day was one of thecharacteristics of the Puritans. Any profanation of the day wasseverely punished by fine or whipping. Citizens were forbidden to fish, shoot, sail, row, dance, jump, or ride, save to and from church, or toperform any work on the farm. An infinite number of examples might begiven to show how rigidly the laws were enforced. The use of tobacco wasforbidden near the meeting-house. These laws were held to extend fromsunset on Saturday to sunset on Sunday; for in the first instructionsgiven to Governor Endicott by the company in England, it was orderedthat all in the colony cease work at three o'clock in the afternoon onSaturday. The Puritans found support of this belief in the Scripturalwords, "The evening and the morning were the first day. "

A Sabbath day in the family of Rev. John Cotton was thus described byone of his fellow-ministers:--

 "He began the Sabbath at evening, therefore then performed family duty after supper, being longer than ordinary in exposition. After which he catechized his children and servants, and then returned to his study. The morning following, family worship being ended, he retired into his study until the bell called him away. Upon his return from meeting (where he had preached and prayed some hours), he returned again into his study (the place of his labor and prayer), unto his favorite devotion; where having a small repast carried him up for his dinner, he continued until the tolling of the bell. The public service of the afternoon being over, he withdrew for a space to his pre-mentioned oratory for his sacred addresses to God, as in the forenoon, then came down, repeated the sermon in the family, prayed, after supper sang a Psalm, and toward bedtime betaking himself again to his study he closed the day with prayer. Thus he spent the Sabbath continually. "

The Virginia Cavaliers were strict Church of England men and the firstwho came to the colony were strict Sunday-keepers. Rules were laid downto enforce Sunday observance. Journeys were forbidden, boat-lading wasprohibited, also all profanation of the day by sports, such as shooting, fishing, game-playing, etc. The offender who broke the Sabbath laws hadto pay a fine and be set in the stocks. When that sturdy watch-dog ofreligion and government--Sir Thomas Dale--came over, he declared absencefrom church should be punishable by death; but this severity never wasexecuted. The captain of the watch was made to play the same part as theNew England tithing-man. Every Sunday, half an hour before service-time, at the last tolling of the bell, the captain stationed sentinels, thensearched all the houses and commanded and forced all (except the sick)to go to church. Then, when all were driven churchwards before him, hewent with his guards to church himself. 

Captain John Smith, in his _Pathway to erect a Plantation_, thus vividlydescribed the first places of divine worship in Virginia:--

 "Wee did hang an awning, which is an old saile, to three or foure trees to shadow us from the Sunne; our walls were railes of wood; our seats unhewed trees till we cut plankes; our Pulpit a bar of wood nailed to two neighbouring trees. In foul weather we shifted into an old rotten tent; this came by way of adventure for new. This was our Church till we built a homely thing like a barne set upon Cratchets, covered with rafts, sedge, and earth; so also was the walls; the best of our houses were of like curiosity, that could neither well defend from wind nor rain. 

 "Yet we had daily Common Prayer morning and evening; every Sunday two sermons; and every three months a holy Communion till our Minister died: but our Prayers daily with an Homily on Sundays we continued two or three years after, till more Preachers came. "

A timber church sixty feet long took the place of this mud and claychapel, and this was in turn replaced by the brick one whose ruinedarches are still standing. The wooden church saw the most pompousceremony of the day when the governor, De La Warre, or Delaware as wenow call it, in full dress, attended by all his councillors and officersand fifty halbert-bearers in scarlet cloaks, filed within itsflower-decked walls. 

This decoration of flowers was significant of the difference between thechurch edifices of the Puritans and of the Cavaliers. The churches ofthe Southern colonies were, as a rule, much more richly furnished. Manywere modelled in shape after the old English churches and were built ofstone, though Jonathan Boucher, the colonial clergyman, could write thatthe greater number of the Southern churches were, at the time of theRevolution, "composed of wood, without spires, or towers or steeples orbells, placed in retired and solitary spots and contiguous to springs orwells. " Many of the churches and the chapels-of-ease stood by thewaterside, and to the services came the church attendants in canoes, periaugers, dugouts, etc. It made an animated scene upon the water, asthe boats came rowing in and as they departed after the service. 

Sometimes the seats were comfortably cushioned, and they were carefullyassigned as in the Puritan meetings. In some Virginia churches seats inthe galleries were deemed the most dignified. There was a pew for themagistrates, another for the magistrates' ladies; pews for therepresentatives and church-wardens, vestrymen, etc. Persons crowded intopews above their stations, just as in New England, and were promptlydisplaced. Groups of men built pews together, and there were schoolboys'galleries and pews. 

The first clergyman in Virginia, Robert Hunt, a true man of God, came asa missionary, and he and others were men of marked intellect andreligion, but in the eighteenth century the pay was too small anduncertain to attract any great men from the Church of England, andchurch attendance dwindled and became irregular. For in Virginia theparish was expected to receive any clergyman sent them from England, arule which often proved unsatisfactory; and deservedly so, since somevery disreputable offshoots of English families were thrust upon theVirginia churches. In the Carolinas, where the church chose its ownclergyman, harmony and affection prevailed in the parishes as it didamong the New England Puritans. Though the Virginians did not alwayslove their clergymen, still they were ever steadfast in their affectionto their church, and regarded it as the only church. 

Sunday was not observed with as much rigidity in New Netherland as inNew England, but strict rules and laws were made for enforcing quietduring service-time. Fishing, gathering berries or nuts, playing in thestreets, working, going on pleasure trips, all were forbidden. On LongIsland shooting of wild fowl, carting of grain, travelling for pleasure, all were punished. In Revolutionary times a cage was set up in City HallPark, near the present New York Post-office, in which boys were confinedwho did not properly regard the Sabbath. 

Before the Dutch settlers had any churches or domines, as they calledtheir ministers, they had _krankbesoeckers_, or visitors of the sick, who read sermons to an assembled congregation every Sunday. The firstchurch at Albany was much like the Plymouth fort, simply a blockhousewith loop-holes through which guns could be fired. The roof was mountedwith three cannon. It had a seat for the magistrates and one for thedeacons, and a handsome octagonal pulpit which had been sent fromHolland, and which still exists. The edifice had a chandelier and candlesconces and two low galleries. The first church in New Amsterdam was ofstone, and was seventy-two feet long. 

A favorite form of the Dutch churches was six or eight sided, with ahigh pyramidal roof, topped with a belfry and a weather-vane. Usuallythe windows were so small and of glass so opaque that the church wasvery dark. A few of the churches were poorly heated with high stovesperched up on pillars, the Albany and Schenectady churches among them, but all the women carried foot-stoves, and some of the men carriedmuffs. 

Almost as important as the domine was the _voorleezer_ or chorister, whowas also generally the bell-ringer, sexton, grave-digger, funeralinviter, schoolmaster, and sometimes town clerk. He "tuned the psalm";turned the hour-glass; gave out the psalms on a hanging board to thecongregation; read the Bible; gave up notices to the domine by stickingthe papers in the end of a cleft stick and holding it up to the highpulpit. 

The deacons had control of all the church money. In the middle of thesermon they collected contributions by passing _sacjes_. These weresmall cloth or velvet bags hung on the end of a pole six or eight feetlong. A French traveller told that the Dutch deacons passed round "theold square hat of the preacher" on the end of a stick for thecontributions. Usually there was a little bell on the _sacje_ which rungwhen a coin was dropped in. 

In many Dutch churches the men sat in a row of pews around the wallwhile the women were seated on chairs in the centre of the church. Therewere also a few benches or pews for persons of special dignity, or forthe minister's wife. 

There were many other colonists of other religious faiths: the RomanCatholics in Maryland and the extreme Southern colonies; the Quakers inPennsylvania; the Baptists in Rhode Island; the Huguenots, Lutherans, Moravians; but all enjoined an orderly observance of the Sabbath day. And it may be counted as one of the great blessings of the settlement ofAmerica, one of the most ennobling conditions of its colonization, thatit was made at a time when the deepest religious feeling prevailedthroughout Europe, when devotion to some religion was found in everyone, when the Bible was a newly found and deeply loved treasure; whenthe very differences of religious belief and the formation of new sectsmade each cling more lovingly and more earnestly to his own faith. 

CHAPTER XVI

COLONIAL NEIGHBORLINESS

If the first foundation of New England's strength and growth wasgodliness, its next was neighborliness, and a firm rock it proved tobuild upon. It may seem anomalous to assert that while there was inolden times infinitely greater independence in each household than atpresent, yet there was also greater interdependence with surroundinghouseholds. 

It is curious to see how completely social ethics and relations havechanged since olden days. Aid in our families in times of stress andneed is not given to us now by kindly neighbors as of yore; we havewell-arranged systems by which we can buy all that assistance, and payfor it, not with affectionate regard, but with current coin. Thecolonist turned to any and all who lived around him, and never turned invain for help in sickness, or at the time of death of members of hishousehold; for friendly advice; for culinary aids to a halting appetite;for the preparation for feasting an exceptional number of persons; inshort, in any unusual emergency, as well as in frequent every-daycoöperation in log-rolling, stone-piling, stump-pulling, wall-building, house-raising, etc. , --all the hard and exhausting labor on the farm. 

The word "coöperation" is modern, but the thing itself is as old ascivilization. In a new country where there was much work to be donewhich one man or one family could not do, under the mechanicalconditions which then existed, a working together, or union of labor wasnecessary for progress, indeed, almost for obtaining a foothold. 

The term "log-rolling" is frequently employed in its metaphorical sensein politics, both by English and American writers who have vagueknowledge of the original meaning of the word. A log-rolling in earlypioneer days, in the Northern colonies and in western Virginia and thecentral states, was a noble example of generous coöperation, where eachgave of his best--his time, strength, and good will; and where allworked to clear the ground in the forest for a home-farm for a neighborwho might be newly come and an entire stranger, but who in turn wouldjust as cheerfully and energetically give his work for others when itwas needed. 

With the vanishing of the log-rolling, and a score of similar kindlyusages and customs, has gone from our communities all traces of theold-time exalted type of neighborliness. We nowadays have generalizedour sentiments; we have more philanthropy and less neighborliness; wehave more love for mankind and less for men. We are independent of ourneighbors, but infinitely more dependent on the world at large. Thepersonal element has been removed to a large extent from our socialethics. We buy nursing and catering just as we hire our houses built andbuy our corn ready ground. Doubtless everything we buy is infinitelybetter; nevertheless, our loss in affectionate zeal is great. 

The plantation was the unit in Virginia; in New England it was the town. The neighborly helpfulness of the New England settlers extended fromsmall to great matters; it formed communal privileges and entered intoevery department of town life. For instance, the town of Gloucester in1663 granted a right to a citizen for running a small sawmill fortwenty-one years. In return for this right the grantee was to sellboards to Gloucester men at "one shilling per hundred better cheape thanto strangers"--and was to receive pay "raised in the towne. " Saco andBiddeford, in Maine, ordered that fellow-townsmen should have preferencein every employment. Other towns ordered certain persons to buyprovisions "of the towns-men in preference. " Reading would not sell anyof its felled timber out of the town. Thus the social compact called atown extended itself also into all the small doings of daily life, andthe mutual helpfulness made mutual interests that proved no smallelement of the force which bound all together in 1776 in a successfulstruggle for independence. 

In outlying settlements and districts this feeling of mutual dependenceand assistance was strong enough to give a name which sometimes lingeredlong. "The Loomis Neighborhood, " "The Mason Neighborhood, " "The RobinsonNeighborhood" were names distinctive for half a century, and far moredistinguishing and individual than the Greenville, Masontown, andLongwood that succeeded them. 

There was one curious and contradictory aspect of this neighborliness, this kindliness, this thought for mutual welfare, and that was itsnarrowness, especially in New England, as regards the limitations ofspace and locality. It is impossible to judge what caused this restraintof vision, but it is certain that in generality and almost inuniversality, just as soon as any group of settlers could callthemselves a town, these colonists' notions of kindliness andthoughtfulness for others became distinctly and rigidly limited to theirown townspeople. The town was their whole world. Without doubt this waspartly the result of the lack of travelling facilities and amplecommunication, which made townships far more separated and remote fromeach other than states are to-day, and made difficult the possibility ofspeedy or full knowledge of strangers. 

This caused a constant suspicion of all newcomers, especially those whochanced to enter with scant introduction, and made universal a custom of"warning out" all strangers who arrived in any town. This formality wasgone through with by the sheriff or tithing-man. Thereafter should thewarned ones prove incapable or unsuccessful or vicious, they could notbecome a charge upon the town, but could be returned whence they camewith despatch and violence if necessary. By this means, and by variousattempts to restrict the powers of citizens to sell property tonewcomers, the town kept a jealous watch over the right of entry intothe corporation. 

Dorchester in 1634 enacted that "no man within the Plantation shall sellhis house or lott to any man without the Plantation whome they shalldislike off. " Providence would not permit a proprietor to sell to any"but to an Inhabitant" without consent of the town. New Haven wouldneither sell nor let ground to a stranger. Hadley would sell no land toany until after three years' occupation, and then only with approval ofthe "Town's Mind. " In 1637 the General Court very reasonably questionedwhether towns could legally restrain individuals from disposal of theirown property, but the custom was so established, so in touch with thenarrow exclusiveness of the colonists, that it still prevailed. Theexpression of the town of Watertown when it would sell lots only tofreemen of the congregation, because it wished no strange neighbors, butonly "to sitt down there close togither, " was the sentiment of all thetowns. One John Stebbins, who had twice served as a soldier of Watertownand lived there seven years, could not get a town lot. 

The legal process of warning out of town had an element of the absurd init, and in one case that of mystery, namely: a sheriff appeared beforethe woebegone intruder, and said, half laughing, "I warn you off theface of the earth. " "Let me get my hat before I go, " stammered theterrified wanderer, who ran into the house for his hat and was neverseen by any mortal eye in that town afterwards. It has become atradition of local folk-lore that he literally vanished from the earthat the command of the officer of the law. 

The harboring of strangers, even of relatives who were not localresidents, was a frequent source of bickering between citizens andmagistrates, as well as a constant cause of arbitration between towns. Awidow in Dorchester was not permitted to entertain her own son-in-lawfrom another town, and her neighbor was fined in 1671 "under distress"for housing his own daughter. She was a married woman, and alleged shecould not return to her husband on account of the inclement weather. 

As time passed on and immigration continued, freemen clung closely totheir right to keep out strangers and outsiders. From the Boston TownRecords of 1714 we find citizens still prohibited from entertaining astranger without giving notice to the town authorities, and adescription of the stranger and his circumstances. Boston required thatall coming from Ireland should be registered "lest they becomechargeable. " Warnings and whippings out of town still continued. Allthis was so contrary to the methods of colonies in other countries, suchas the Barbadoes, Honduras, etc. , where extraordinary privileges wereoffered settlers, free and large grants of land, absolvment from pastdebts, etc. , that it makes an early example of the curious absorbing andassimilating power of American nationality, which ever grew and greweven against such clogs and hampering restrictions. 

In the Southern colonies the same kindliness existed as in the North, but the conditions differed. John Hammond, of Virginia, wrote in 1656, in his _Leah and Rachel_:--

 "The Country is not only plentifull, but pleasant and profitable, pleasant in regard of the extraordinary good neighbourhood and loving conversation they have one with another. 

 "The inhabitants are generally affable, courteous, and very assistant to Strangers (for what but plenty makes hospitality and good neighbourhood) and no sooner are they settled, but they will be visiting, presenting and advising the strangers how to improve what they have, how to better their way of livelihood. "

In summer when fresh meat was killed, the neighbors shared the luxury, and in turn gave of their slaughter. Hammond adds:--

 "If any fall sick and cannot compass to follow his crops which would soon be lost, the adjoining neighbour, or upon request more joyn together and work it by spells, until he recovers; and that gratis, so that no man may by sickness loose any part of his year's work. 

 "Let any travell, it is without charge and at every house is entertainment as in a hostelry. "

It was the same in the Carolinas. Ramsay, the early historian of SouthCarolina, said that hospitality was such a virtue that innkeeperscomplained that their business was not worth carrying on. The doors ofcitizens were open to all decent travellers, and shut to none. 

The plantations were in many counties too far apart for any coöperativelabor, and the planters were not men of such vast strength or so greatpersonal industry, even in their own affairs, as were the Yankees. Therewere slaves on each plantation to do all the hard work of lifting, etc. But in out-of-the-way settlements the Virginia planters' kindliness wasshown in a vast and unbounded hospitality, a hospitality so insatiablethat it watched for and waylaid travellers to expend a welcome andlavish attentions upon. Negroes were stationed at the planter's gatewhere it opened on the post-road or turnpike, to hail travellers andassure them of a hearty welcome at the "big house up yonder. " One writersays of the planters:--

 "Their manner of living is most generous and open: strangers are sought after with Greediness to be invited. "

The _London Magazine_ of the year 1743 published a series of papersentitled _Itinerant Observations in America_. It was written with aspirited pen which thus pleasantly describes simple Marylandhospitality, not of men of vast wealth but of very poor folk:--

 "With the meaner Sort you find little else to drink but Water amongst them when their Cyder is spent, but the Water is presented you by one of the barefooted Family in a copious Calabash, with an innocent Strain of good Breeding and Heartiness, the Cake baking on the Hearth, and the prodigious Cleanliness of everything around you must needs put you in Mind of the Golden Age, the Times of ancient Frugality and Purity. All over the Colony a universal Hospitality reigns, full Tables and open Doors; the kind Salute, the generous Detention speak somewhat like the roast-Beef Ages of our Forefathers. "

There came a time when this Southern hospitality became burdensome. Withthe exhaustion of the soil and competition in tobacco-raising, the greatwealth of the Virginians was gone. But visitors did not cease; in fact, they increased. The generous welcome offered to kinsmen, friends, andoccasional travellers was sought by curiosity-hunters and tourists whowanted to save a tavern-bill. Nothing could be more pathetic than theimpoverishment of Thomas Jefferson through these impositions. Times andconditions had changed, but Jefferson felt bound in honor to himself andhis state to keep the same open hand and ready welcome as of yore. Hisoverseer describes his own hopeless efforts to keep these travellingfriends and admirers from eating his master out of house and home:--

 "They were there all times of the year; but about the middle of June the travel would commence from the lower part of the State to the Springs, and then there was a perfect throng of visitors. They travelled in their own carriages and came in gangs, the whole family with carriage and riding horses and servants, sometimes three or four such gangs at a time. We had thirty-six stalls for horses and only used ten of them for the stock we kept there. Very often all the rest were full, and I had to send horses off to another place. I have often sent a wagon-load of hay up to the stable, and the next morning there would not be enough left to make a bird's nest. I have killed a fine beef, and it would all be eaten up in a day or two. "

The final extinction of old-time hospitality in Virginia came not from adeath of hospitable intent, but from an entire vanishing of the means tofurnish entertainment. And the Civil War drove away even the lingeringghost. 

Many general customs existed in the early colonies which were simplyexemplifications of neighborliness put in legal form. Such were thesystems of common lands and herding. This was an old Aryan custom whichexisted many centuries ago, and has ever been one of the best ways ofuniting any settlement of people, especially a new settlement; for itmakes the interest of one the interest of all, and promotes union ratherthan selfishness. Common lands were set off and common herds existed inmany of the Northern colonies; cowherds or "cow-keeps" were appointedand paid by the town to care throughout the summer for all the cattleowned by the inhabitants. This was an intelligent provision; for itsaved much work of individuals during the months when farmers had somuch hard work to do, and so short a time to do it in. In Albany and NewYork the cowherd and "a chosen proper youngster"--in other words, agood, steady boy--went through the town at sunrise sounding a horn, which the cattle heard and knew; and they quickly followed him to greenpastures outside the town. There they lingered till nearly sunset, whenthey were brought home to the church, and the owners were again warnedby the horn of the safe return of their cattle, and that it was milkingtime. Sometimes the cowherd received part of his pay in butter orcheese. In Cambridge, Massachusetts, Cowherd Rice, in 1635, agreed totake charge of one hundred cows for three months for ten pounds. Thetown also paid two men or boys to help him the first two weeks, and oneman a week longer; he kept the cows alone after that, for theintelligent cattle had fallen into habits of order and obedience to hishorn. He had to pay threepence fine each time he failed to bring in allthe cattle at night. 

On Long Island and in Connecticut there were cowherds, calf-keepers, andpound-keepers. The calf-keepers' duties were to keep the calves awayfrom the cows, water them, protect them, etc. In Virginia and Marylandthere were cow-pens in early days, and cowherds; but in the South thecattle generally roamed wild through the forests, and were known totheir owners by earmarks. In all communities earmarks and other brandsof ownership on cattle, horses, sheep, and swine were very important, and rigidly regarded where so much value was kept in domestic cattle. These earmarks were registered by the town clerk in the town records, and were usually described both in words and rude drawings. One of mygreat-great-grandfather's earmarks for his cows was a "swallow-fork slitin both ears"; another was a slit under the ear and a "half-penny markon the foreside of the near ear. " This custom of herding cattle incommon lasted in some out-of-the-way places to this century, and evenlingered long in large cities such as Boston, where cows were allowed tofeed on Boston Common till about 1840. In Philadelphia until the year1795 a cowherd stood every morning at the corner of Dock and Secondstreets, blew his horn, tramped off to a distant pasture followed by allthe cows of his neighborhood, who had run out to him as soon as theyheard the familiar sound. He led them back to the same place at night, when each returned alone to her own home. 

Sheep-herds or shepherds in colonial days also took charge of the sheepof many owners in herd-walks, or ranges, by day, and by night insheep-folds built with fences and gates. 

Fence-viewers were men who were appointed by the town for common benefitto take charge of building and keeping in repair the fences thatsurrounded the "great lotts" or commons; that is, the enclosed fieldswhich were the common property of each town, in which all farmers livingnear could place their cattle. The fence-viewers saw that each manworked a certain amount each year on these "pales" as the fences werecalled, or paid his share for the work of others. Each farmer orcow-owner usually built about twenty feet of fence for each cow which hepastured in the "great lotts. " The fence-viewers also examined thecondition of fences around private lands; noted breaks and orderedrepairs. For if cattle broke through a poorly made fence, and did damageto crops, the fence-owner had to stand the loss, while if the fenceswere good and strong, proving the cattle unruly and destructive, theowner of the cattle had to pay. All the colonies were watchful over thesafe-keeping of fences. In 1659 the Dutch rulers of New Amsterdam (nowNew York) ordered that for "stripping fences of rails and posts" theoffender should be whipped and branded, and for a second offence hecould be punished by death. This seems cruelly severe, but that yearthere was a great scarcity of grain and other food, and if the fenceswere pulled down, cattle could get into fields and eat up the growingcrops, and famine and death might result. 

Sometimes a common field was fenced in and planted with Indian corn. Inthis case the fence served to keep the cattle out, not in. This wasalways the case in Virginia. 

Hay-wards were, as the name indicates, men to keep watchful care overthe growing hay. For instance, in Hadley, Massachusetts, in 1661, Goodman Montague was chosen hay-ward by the town. He was to havetwelvepence for each cow or hog, two shillings for each horse, andtwenty pence for each twenty sheep that he found loose in any field ormeadow, and successfully turned out. The owner of the animal was to paythe fine. At a later date these hay-wards were called field-drivers. They are still appointed in many towns and cities, among them Boston. 

Hog-reeves were men appointed by the citizens to look after their hogsthat roamed the roads and streets, to see that all those swine hadrings in their noses, were properly marked, and did not do damage tocrops. Many towns had hog-reeves till this century; for until seventyyears ago hogs ran freely everywhere, even in the streets of our greatcities. It was a favorite jest to appoint a newly married man hog-reeve. When Ralph Waldo Emerson was married and became a householder inConcord, the young philosopher was appointed to that office. Sometimes asingle swineherd was hired to take care of the roving swine. The twoSalem swineherds or swine-keepers in 1640 were to have sixpence for eachhog they drove daily to pasture from April to November. These and manyother public offices were simply a form of legalized coöperation; ajoining together of neighbors for public good. 

The neighborly assistance given to new settlers began with the clearingof the ground for occupancy. The girdling of trees was easy and speedy, but it was discountenanced as dangerous and hideous, and was notfrequently practised. A chopping-bee was a universal method amongpioneers of clearing ground in newly settled districts, or even in oldertownships in Vermont, New Hampshire, and Maine, where great tracts ofland were left for many years in the original growth. Sometimes this beewas held to clear land for a newly married man, or a new neighbor, orone who had had bad luck; but it was just as freely given to aprosperous farmer, though plentiful thanks and plentiful rum were theonly rewards of the willing workers. 

All the strong men of the township repaired at an early hour to thetract to be cleared, and with powerful blows attacked the great trees. Afavorite way of bringing the day's work and the day's excitement to aclimax was by a "drive. " This was made by chopping half-way into thetrunks of a great group or circle of trees--under-cutting it wascalled--so that by a few powerful and well-driven blows at the monarchof the group, and perhaps a few well-concerted pulls on a rope, theentire group could be felled together, the leader bringing down with hisspreading branches in his mighty fall his fellows in front of him, andthey in turn their neighbors, with a crash that shook the earth and madethe mountains ring. It was dangerous work; accidents were frequent; therecords of death at log-rollings are pathetic to read and to think of, in a country where the loss of a sturdy man meant so much to somestruggling household. A heavy and sudden gust of wind might blow down asmall tree, which had been carelessly "under-cut, " and thus give anunexpected and premature collapse of the simple machinery of the grandfinale. 

A century ago a New Hampshire woman and her husband went out into theforest primeval; he cut down a few trees, made a little clearing termeda cut-down wherein a tiny patch of sky and cloud and scant sunlightcould be seen overhead, but no sunrise or sunset, and built a log houseof a single room--a home. With the opening spring came one day a groupof kindly settlers from distant clearings and settlements, some ridingfrom ten miles away the previous day. In front of the log house theychopped all the morning long with sturdy arms and swinging blows, yetfelled nothing, till in the afternoon when all was ready for the finalblow at the towering leader, which by its fall should lay low a greatsloping tract for a dooryard and home field. As the noble trees fell atlast to the earth with a resounding crash, lo! in the opening thereappeared to the startled eyes of the settler's wife, as if rising out ofheaven, a neighbor in her loneliness--Mount Kearsage, grand, serene, andbeautiful, crowned with the glories of the setting sun, standing guardover a smiling lake at its foot. And every day through her long andhappy life till ninety-six years old, as she looked at the splendidmountain, standing as it will till time shall be no more, did she thankGod for His gift, for that noble companionship which came so suddenly, so inspiringly, upon the cramped horizon of her lonely forest home. 

After the trees were all felled, it was no longer a "cut-down" but an"opening. " This was made preferably in the spring. The fallen trees wereleft some months on the ground to dry in the summer sun, while thefarmer turned to other work on his farm, or, if he were starting inlife, hired out for the summer. In the autumn the tops were set on fire, and the lighter limbs usually burned out, leaving the great charredtree-trunks. Then came what was known as a piling-bee, a perfect riot ofhard work, cinders, and dirt. Usually the half-burned tree-trunks were"niggered off" in Indian fashion, by burning across with a smaller stickof wood till the long log was in lengths which could be dragged by thefarmers with their oxen and horses into vast piles and again set onfire. Another treat of rum accompanied this day's work. The word"log-rolling" was often applied to the latter bee, and occasionally thefelling of trees and dragging into piles for firing was done in a singlelog-rolling. 

Sometimes before the opening was cleared it was planted. The springrains and melting snows carried the fertilizing ashes deep into thesoil. Corn was planted and "dug in"; rye was sowed and "hacked in. " Thecrops were astonishing; the grain grew among the fallen logs and stumpsin rioting luxuriance. A stump-pulling was another occasion for afriendly bee, to clear off and put into comely shape the new field. 

Another exhibition of coöperation was in a stone-hauling or a stone-bee. Some of the rocky fields of hard New England would defy a lifetime ofwork of one man and a single yoke of oxen. With judicious blasting, manyoxen, strong arms, and willing hearts the boulders and ledges weretamed. Stone walls eight feet wide, such as may be seen in Hopkinton, New Hampshire, stand as monuments of the patience, strength, skill, andcoöperation of our forbears. 

To show the struggle and hard work willingly done for a home, let megive the statement in 1870 of a respected citizen, the historian ofNorridgewock, Maine, when he was over ninety years old. He served anapprenticeship of eight years till he was twenty-one, then bought oncredit a tract of fifty acres in the primeval woods. On eight acres hefelled the trees and left them through the winter. In April, 1801, hespent three weeks in burning off the logs and clearing as well aspossible by handwork three acres. These he sowed with wheat and rye, buying the seed on credit. He hired a yoke of oxen for one day and didwhat harrowing he could in that short time, grubbing around the stumpswith a hoe for two more days. The crop grew, as did all others onsimilar soil, amazingly. The two bushels of seed-wheat yielded fifty-twobushels, the bushel of rye thirty bushels. On his other five acres amongthe fallen trees he planted corn, and raised a hundred and twenty-eightbushels. He adds:--

 "When I could leave my work on my new land I worked out haying and other work. I made shoes in the Fall, taught school in the Winter, paid for my board and some clothing, but husbanded my resources to pay for my land. At the end of the year found myself worth two hundred dollars. I continued to clear up four acres each year till I had cleared the fifty acres, planted an orchard and erected suitable farm buildings and fences. "

Six years later he married and prospered. In eleven years he was worthtwo thousand dollars; he filled, during his long life, many, positionsof trust and of profit, and did many and varied good deeds; he continuedin active life till he was ninety years old. At his death he left aconsiderable fortune. It is an interesting picture of the value ofhonorable economy and thrift; a typical New England picture, with acertain vigor and stimulus about it that makes it pleasing. 

A "raising" might be of a church or a school-house, or of a house orbarn for a neighbor. All the strong men far and near turned out to help, tools were lent, and many strong hands and arms made quick work. Oftenthe frame of a whole side of a house--the broadside--was fastenedtogether on the ground. After it was laid out and pinned together, shores of long poles were attached to the plates with ox-chains, and itwas literally lifted into place by the united strength of the entireband of men and boys. Sometimes women pulled on the rope to expresstheir good will and helpfulness. Then the other sides were put up, andthe cross-beams, braces, and studding all pinned and nailed into place. Afterwards the huge rafters were raised for the roof. Each man wasassigned in the beginning to his place and work, and worked faithfullywhen his turn came. When the ridge-pole was put in place, the buildingwas christened, as it was called, by breaking over it a bottle of rum. Often the house was literally given a name. Sitting astride theridge-pole, one poet sang:--

 "Here's a mighty fine frame Which desarves a good name, Say what shall we call it? The timbers all straight, And was hewed fust rate, The frame is well put together. It is a good frame That desarves a good name, Say! what shall we name it?"

Another, a Rochester, New Hampshire, frame was celebrated in verse whichclosed thus:--

 "The Flower of the Plain is the name of this Frame, We've had exceeding good Luck in raising the Same. "

It was not luck that made these raisings a success, it was skill andstrength; skill and powers of endurance which could overcome andsurmount even the quantity of vile New England rum with which theworkmen were plied throughout the day. Accidents were frequent, andoften fatal. A great frame of a meeting-house, or a vast barn with fortyor fifty men at work on it, could not collapse without loss of life andmuch injury of limb. 

In the work of these raisings the highest as well as the humblestcitizens took part. Truly a man could glow with the warmth of home evenin a bare and scantily furnished house, at the thought that the wallsand rafters were held in place by the kind wishes and deeds of all hisfriends and neighbors. 

There is nothing in nature so unnatural, so singular in quality, as theglittering artificiality of the early morning in the country the dayafter a heavy, drifting, New England snowstorm. For a day and a nightthe wildly whirling snow that "driving o'er the fields seems nowhere toalight" has restrained the outlook, and every one has turned depressedfrom that outside life of loneliness and gloom. The following morningalways opens with an excessively bright and dazzling sunshine which isnot like any other sunshine in any place or season, but is whollyartificial, like the lime-light of a theatre. We always run eagerly tothe window to greet once more the signs of life and cheerfulness; butthe landscape is more devoid of life and reality than during any stormof wind and snow and sleet, no matter how dark and lowering. There is achanged aspect in everything; it is metallic, and everything is made ofthe same horrible white metal. Nothing seems familiar; not only are thewonted forms and outlines vanished, and all their varied textures andmaterials and beautiful diversity of color gone also, but there is asteely immobility restraining everything which is so complete that itseems as if it were a shell that could never be broken. 

 "We look upon a world unknown, On nothing we can call our own. "

It is no longer a real landscape but an artificial encircling diorama ofmeaningless objects made of vast unshaded sheets of white glazedBristol-board, painted with white enamel, warranted not to crack; withthe garish high-lights put in crystallized alum or possibly powderedglass. It is without life, or atmosphere, or reality; it has nothing butthe million reflections of that artificial and repellent sunshine. In aquarter of an hour, even in a few minutes, it is agonizingly monotonousto the spirit as it is painful to the eye; then, like a veritable oasisof color and motion in an unmovable glittering white desert, a sound andsight of beautiful and active life appears. Around the bend of the roadcomes slow and straining down the hill, as has come through the glaringartificial sunlight after every heavy snowstorm for over a century past, a long train of oxen with a snow-plough "breaking out" the oldpost-road. Beautiful emblems of patient and docile strength, thesesplendid creatures are never so grateful to the sight as now. Their slowprogress down the hill has many elements to make it interesting; it ishistoric. Ever since the township was thickly settled enough forfamilies to have any winter communication with each other, whether forschool, church, mail, or doctor, this road has been broken out inprecisely this same way. 

In nearly all scattered townships in New England the custom prevailsto-day just as it did a century and more ago even in large towns, and adescription of the present "breaking out" is that of the past also. Thework is now usually done in charge of road-surveyors or theroad-masters, who are often appointed from the remote points of thetownship. There is, therefore, much friendly rivalry to see whichsurveyor will first reach the centre of the town--and the tavern. Beginning at sunrise with his own yoke of oxen hitched to a snow-plough, each road-master breaks through the drift to the nearest neighbor, whoadds his yoke to the other, and so from neighbor to neighbor tillsometimes fifteen or twenty yoke of oxen are hitched in a long line tothe plough. Sometimes a pair of wild young steers are hitched, plungingand kicking, with the sober elders. By this time the first yoke oftenbegins to show signs of distress by lolling out the tongue, a suresymptom of overwork in oxen, and they are left at some farmer's barn tocool down. 

Whittier thus describes the scene of breaking out the winter roads inhis _Snow-Bound_:--

 "Next morn we wakened with the shout Of merry voices high and clear; And saw the teamsters drawing near To break the drifted highways out. Down the long hillside treading slow We saw the half-buried oxen go, Shaking the snow from heads uptost, Their straining nostrils white with frost. Before our door the straggling train Drew up, an added team to gain. The elders threshed their hands a-cold, Passed, with the cider mug, their jokes From lip to lip. "

Thus are the white snow-waste and the drifted roads turned by cheerfulcoöperation into a midwinter visiting where every neighbor can exchangegreetings with the other, young and old. For of course school does notkeep, and the boys crowd on the snow-plough or try their new snowshoes, and the men of the various families who do not go with the oxen hitch upthe sleighs, pods, and pungs and follow the snow-plough, and the youngmen send a volley of snowballs against every house where any fair maidlives. And at the tavern in the afternoon is a great sight, greater inante-temperance days than now: scores of yoke of oxen at the door, thehorse-sheds full of horses and sleighs, all the lads and men of thetownship within. There is rivalry in the method of breaking. Oneroad-master always used a snow-plough; another lashed an ordinary ploughon either side of a narrow ox-sled; a third used a coarse harrowweighted down with a group of standing boys. This broke up the drifts ina wonderful manner. The deeper drifts often have to be shovelled outpartly by hand. After the road to the tavern is broken, the road to theschool-house, the doctor's house, and the meeting-house come next. 

The roads thus made were not permitted in former days to be cut up idlyby careless use; many townships forbade by law the use of narrow sledsand sleighs. The roads were narrow at best; often when two sleighs metthe horses had to be unharnessed, and the sleighs lifted past over eachother. On lonely hill-roads or straight turnpikes, where teamsters couldsee some distance ahead, turnouts were made where one sleigh could waitfor another to pass. 

After there had been a heavy fall of snow and the roads were wellbroken, the time was always chosen where any logging was done to haullogs to the sawmill on ox-sleds. An interesting sled was used which hadan interesting name, --chebobbin. One writer called it a cross between atree and a bobsled. It was made by a close and ingenious adaptation ofnatural forms of wood, which made excellent runners, cross-bars, etc. ;they were fastened together so loosely that they readily adjustedthemselves to the inequalities of the wood-roads. The word and articleare now almost obsolete. In some localities chebobbin became tebobbinand tarboggin, all three being adaptations in nomenclature, as theywere in form, of the Indian toboggan or moose-sled, --a sledge withrunners or flat bottom of wood or bark, upon which the red men drewheavy loads over the snow. This sledge has become familiar to us in thelight and strong Canadian form now used for the delightful winter sportof tobogganing. 

On these chebobbins great logs were hitched together by chains, anddragged down from the upland wood-lots. Under these mighty loads thesnow-tracks got an almost icy polish, prime sledding for countrysleighing parties. Sometimes a logging-bee was made to clear a speciallot for a neighbor, and a band of wood-choppers worked all day together. It was cheerful work, though the men had to stand all day in the snow, and the thermometer was below zero. But there was no cutting wind in theforest, and the exercise kept the blood warm. Many a time a hearty manwould drop his axe to wipe the sweat from his brow. Loose woollenfrocks, or long-shorts, two or three over each other, were warm as arethe overlapping feathers of a bird; a few had buckskin or sheepskinwaistcoats; their hands were warmly covered with home-knit mittens. Inlater days all had heavy well-greased boots, but in the early years ofsuch pioneer settlements, as the towns of New Hampshire and Vermont, all could not afford to wear boots. Their place was well supplied byheavy woollen stockings, shoes, and an over-covering of old stockings, or cloth soaked in neat's-foot oil; this was deemed a positivepreventive of frozen feet. 

It was the custom both among men and women to join forces on a smallerscale and have a little neighborly visiting by what was called"change-work. " For instance, if two neighbors both were to make soap, orboth to make apple-butter, or both to make up a rag carpet, instead ofeach woman sitting at home alone sewing and fitting the carpet, onewould take her thimble and go to spend the day, and the two would sewall day long, finish and lay the carpet at one house. In a few days thevisit would be returned, and the second carpet be finished. Sometimesthe work was easier when two worked together. One man could load logsand sled them down to the sawmill alone, but two by "change-work" couldaccomplish the task much more rapidly and with less strain. 

Even those evil days of New England households, the annualhouse-cleaning, were robbed of some of their dismal terrors by what wasknown as a "whang, " a gathering of a few friendly women neighbors toassist one another in that dire time, and thus speed and shorten thehours of misery. 

For any details of domestic life of colonial days the reader has ever toturn to the diary of Judge Samuel Sewall of Boston, just as the studentof English life of the same date turns to the diary of Samuel Pepys. Sewall was a Puritan of the narrow type of the later days of Puritanism;and there is little of warmth or beauty in his pages, save thatthroughout them there shines with gentle radiance the unconscious recordof a pure and never-dying neighborliness, the neighborliness of anupright and reserved but deeply tender Christian. No thoughtful personcan read the simple and meagre, but wholly self-forgetful entries whichreveal this trait of character without a feeling of profound respect andeven affection for Sewall. He was the richest man in town, and one ofthe most dignified of citizens, a busy man full of many cares and plans. But he watched by the bedside of his sick and dying neighbors, those ofhumble station as well as his friends and kinsfolk, nursing them withtender care, praying with them, bringing appetizing gifts, and alsogiving pecuniary aid to the household. He afforded even more homelyexamples of neighborly feeling; he sent "tastes of his dinner" manytimes to friends and neighbors. This pleasant custom lingered till thepresent day in New England; I saw last summer, several times, coveredtreasures of housewifery being carried in petty amounts, literally "ataste, " to tempt tired appetites or lonely diners. The gift of a portionof the over-bountiful supply for the supper of a wedding, a reception, etc. , went by the expressive name of "cold party. "

In rural Pennsylvania a charming and friendly custom prevailed amongcountry folk of all nationalities--the "metzel-soup, " the "taste" ofsausage-making. This is the anglicized form of _Metzelsuppe_; _metzeln_means to kill and cut to pieces--especially for sausage meat. When eachfarmer butchered and made sausage, a great dish heaped with eight or tenpounds of the new sausages was sent to each intimate friend. Therecipient would in turn send metzel-soup when his family killed and madesausage. If the metzel-soup were not returned, the minister promptlylearned of it and set at work to effect a reconciliation between theoffended parties. The custom is dying out, and in many towns is whollyvanished. 

Sewall seemed to regard it as a duty, and doubtless it was also apleasure, to pray for and with dying friends. His is not the onlyold-time diary that I have read in which those long prayers arerecorded, nor are his surprised occasional records of the impatience ofdying friends the only ones I have seen. A very sick man, even though hewere a Puritan, might occasionally tire of the prayers of laymen. 

Sewall was ever ready to signify his good will and interest in hisneighbors' advancing fortunes, by driving a nail at a ship-building or apin at a house-raising, by laying a stone in a wall or a foundation of ahouse, the latter, apparently, in the case of some very humble homes. He, the Judge of the Supreme Court, served on the watch, walking andguarding the streets and his neighbors' safety just as faithfully as didthe humblest citizen. 

CHAPTER XVII

OLD-TIME FLOWER GARDENS

Adjoining the street through which I always, in my childhood, walkedslowly each Sunday, on my way to and from church, was a spot to detainlingering footsteps--a beautiful garden laid out and tenanted like thegardens of colonial days, and serene with the atmosphere of a worthy oldage; a garden which had been tended for over half a century by awithered old man and his wife, whose golden wedding was spent in thehouse they had built, and in the garden they had planted when they werebride and groom. His back was permanently bowed with constant weedingand pruning and planting and hoeing, and his hands and face were brownas the soil he cultivated. The "hot-glowing" crimson peonies, seedlingswhich the wife had sown in her youth, had become great shrubs, fifteenor twenty feet in circumference. The flowering shrubs were trees. Vigorous borders of box crowded across the paths and towered on eitherside, till one could scarcely walk through them. There were beautifulfairy groves of fox gloves "gloriously freckled, purple, and white, " andtall Canterbury bells; and at stiffly regular intervals were setflowering almonds, St. Peter's wreath, Persian lilacs, "Moses in theburning bush, " which shrub was rare in our town, and "laburnums rich instreaming gold, syringas ivory pure. " At the lower ends of the flowerborders were rows of "honey-blob" gooseberries, and aged currant bushes, gray with years, overhung by a few patriarchal quince and crab-appletrees, in whose low-spreading gnarled branches I spent many a summerafternoon, a happy visitor, though my own home garden was just asbeautiful, old-fashioned, and flower-filled. 

The varying grades of city streets had gradually risen around the gardenuntil it lay depressed several feet below the level of the adjoiningstreets, a pleasant valley, --like Avalon, --

 "Deep-meadowed, happy, fair, with orchard lawns, And bowery hollows crown'd with summer seas. "

A flight of stone steps led down to it, --steps very steep, narrow, andslippery with green moss, and ladies'-delights that crowded andblossomed in every crack and crevice of the stones. On each side aroseterraces to the street, and in the spring these terraces flushed a massof vivid, glowing rose-color from blooming moss-pink, forming such aglory that pious church-going folk from the other end of the town didnot think it wicked to walk thither, on a Sunday morn in May, to look atthe rosy banks that sloped to the valleyed garden, as they had walkedthere in February or March to see

 "Winter, slumbering in the open air, Wear on his smiling face a dream of spring, "

in the shape of the first crocuses and snowdrops that opened beside asnow-drift still lingering on a shaded bank; and to watch the firstbenumbed honey-bees who greeted every flower that bloomed in thatcherished spot, and who buzzed in bleak March winds over the purplecrocus and "blue flushing" grape-hyacinth as cheerfully as though theywere sipping the scarlet poppies in sunny August. 

The garden edges and the street were overhung by graceful larches and bythorny honey-locust trees that bore on their trunks great clusters ofpowerful spines and sheltered in their branches an exceedinglyunpleasant species of fat, fuzzy caterpillars, which always chose Sundayto drop on my garments as I walked to church, and to go with me tomeeting, and in the middle of the long prayer to parade on my neck, tomy startled disgust and agitated whisking away, and consequent reprooffor being noisy in meeting. 

What fragrances arose from that old garden, and were wafted out topassers-by! The ever-present, pungent, dry aroma of box was overcome ortempered, through the summer months, by a succession of delicateflower-scents that hung over the garden-vale like an imperceptible mist;perhaps the most perfect and clear among memory's retrospectivetreasures was that of the pale fringed "snow-pink, " and later, "sweetwilliam with its homely cottage smell. " Phlox and ten-weeks stock werethere, as everywhere, the last sweet-scented flowers of autumn. 

At no time was this old garden sweeter than in the twilight, theeventide, when all the great clumps of snowy phlox, night-rockets, andluminous evening primrose, and all the tangles of pale yellow and whitehoneysuckle shone irradiated; when, "In puffs of balm the night air blows The burden which the day foregoes, "

and scents far richer than any of the day--the "spiced air ofnight"--floated out in the dusky gloaming. 

Though the old garden had many fragrant leaves and flowers, theirdelicate perfume was sometimes fairly deadened by an almost mephiticaroma that came from an ancient blossom, a favorite in Shakespeare'sday--the jewelled bell of the noxious crown-imperial. This statelyflower, with its rich color and pearly drops, has through its evil scentbeen firmly banished from our garden borders. 

One of the most cheerful flowers of this and of my mother's garden wasthe happy-faced little pansy that under various fanciful folk-names hasever been loved. Like Montgomery's daisy, it "blossomed everywhere. " ItsItalian name means "idle thoughts"; the German, "little stepmother. "Spenser called it "pawnce. " Shakespeare said maidens called it"love-in-idleness, " and Drayton named it "heartsease. " Dr. Prior givesthese names--"Herb Trinity, Three Faces under a Hood, Fancy Flamy, KissMe, Pull Me, Cuddle Me unto You, Tickle my Fancy, Kiss Me ere I Rise, Jump Up and Kiss Me, Kiss Me at the Garden Gate, Pink of my Joan. " Tothese let me add the New England folk-names--bird's-eye, garden-gate, johnny-jump-up, kit-run-about, none-so-pretty, and ladies'-delight. Allthese testify to the affectionate and intimate friendship felt for thislaughing and fairly speaking little garden face, not the least of whoseendearing qualities was that, after a half-warm, snow-melting week inJanuary or February, this bright-some little "delight" often opened atiny blossom to greet and cheer us--a true "jump-up-and-kiss-me, " andproved by its blooming the truth of the graceful Chinese verse, --

 "Ere man is aware That the spring is here The plants have found it out. "

Another dearly loved spring flower was the daffodil, the favorite alsoof old English dramatists and poets, and of modern authors as well, whenwe find that Keats names a daffodil as, the thing of beauty that is ajoy forever. Perhaps the happiest and most poetic picture of daffodilsis that of Dora Wordsworth, when she speaks of them as "gay andglancing, and laughing with the wind. " Perdita, in _The Winter's Tale_, thus describes them in her ever-quoted list: "Daffodils that come beforethe swallow dares and take the winds of March with beauty. " Mostcheerful and sunny of all our spring flowers, they have never lost theirold-time popularity, and they still laugh at our bleak March winds. 

Bouncing-bet and her comely hearty cousins of the pink family madedelightsome many a corner of our home garden. The pinks were Jove's ownflowers, and the carthusian pink, china pink, clove pink, snow pink, plumed pink, mullein pink, sweet william, maltese cross, ragged robin, catch-fly, and campion, all made gay and sweet the summer. The clovepink was the ancestor of all the carnations. 

The richest autumnal glory came from the cheerful marigold, the "golde"of Chaucer, and "mary-bud" of Shakespeare. This flower, beloved of allthe old writers, as deeply suggestive and emblematic, has been coldlyneglected by modern poets, as for a while it was banished from moderntown gardens; but it may regain its popularity in verse as it has incultivation. In farm gardens it has always flourished, and every autumnhas "gone to bed with the sun and with him risen weeping, " and hasgiven forth in the autumn air its acrid odor, which to me is notdisagreeable, though my old herbal calls its "a very naughty smell. "

A favorite shrub in our garden, as in every country dooryard, wassouthernwood, or lad's-love. A sprig of it was carried to meeting eachsummer Sunday by many old ladies, and with its finely dissected, bluish-green foliage, and clean pungent scent, it was pleasant to see inthe meeting-house, and pleasant to sniff at. The "virtues of flowers"took a prominent place in the descriptions in old-time botanies. Thesouthernwood had strong medicinal qualities, and was used to cure"vanityes of the head. "

 "Take a quantitye of Suthernwood and put it upon kindled coales to burn and being made into powder mix it with the oyle of radishes and anoynt a balde place and you shall see great experiences. "

It was of power as a love charm. If you placed a sprig in each shoe andwore it through the day when you were in love, you would then also insome way "see great experiences. "

In the tender glamour of happy association, all flowers in the oldgarden seem to have been loved save the garish petunias, whose sickishodor grew more offensive and more powerful at nightfall and made me longto tear them away from their dainty garden-fellows, and the portulacawith its fleshy, worm-like stems and leaves, and its aggressivelypushing habits, "never would be missed. " Perhaps its close relation tothe "pusley, " most hated of weeds, makes us eye it askance. 

There was one attribute of the old-time garden, one part of nature'seconomy, which added much to its charm--it was the crowding abundance, the over-fulness of leaf, bud, and blossom. Nature there displayed nobare expanses of naked soil, as in some too-carefully-kept modernparterres; the dull earth was covered with a tangle of ready-growing, self-sowing, lowly flowers, that filled every space left unoccupied bystatelier garden favorites, and crowded every corner with cheerful, though unostentatious, bloom. And the close juxtaposition, and evenintermingling, of flowers with herbs, vegetables, and fruits gave asense of homely simplicity and usefulness, as well as of beauty. Thesoft, purple eyes of the mourning-bride were no less lovely to us in"our garden" because they opened under the shade of currant andgooseberry bushes; and the sweet alyssum and candytuft were no lesshoney-sweet. The delicate, pinky-purple hues of the sweet peas were notdimmed by their vivid neighbors at the end of the row of poles--thescarlet runners. The adlumia, or mountain fringe, was a special vine ofour own and known by a special name--virgin's bower. With its delicateleaves, almost as beautiful as a maidenhair fern, and its dainty pinkflower, it festooned the ripening corn as wantonly and luxuriantly as itencircled the snowball and lilac bushes. 

Though "colored herbs" were cultivated in England in the seventeenth andeighteenth centuries as carefully as were flowers, --striped hollies, variegated myrtles, and bays being the gardener's pride, --yet in our oldAmerican gardens few plants were grown for their variegated orodd-colored foliage. The familiar and ever-present ribbon-grass, alsocalled striped grass, canary grass, and gardener's garters, --whosepretty expanded panicles formed an almost tropical effect at the base ofthe garden hedge; the variegated wandering jew, the striped leaves ofsome varieties of day-lilies; the dusty-miller, with its "frosty pow"(which was properly a house plant), fill the short list. The box was thesole evergreen. 

And may I not enter here a plea for the preservation of the box-edgingsof our old garden borders? I know they are almost obsolete--have beenwinter-killed and sunburned--and are even in sorry disrepute as having agraveyard association, and as being harborers of unpleasant andunwelcome garden visitors. One lover of old ways thus indignantlymourns their passing:--

 "I spoke of box-edgings. We used to see them in little country gardens, with paths of crude earth. Nowadays, it has been discovered that box harbours slugs, and we are beginning to have beds with tiled borders, while the walks are of asphalt. For a pleasure-ground in Dante's _Inferno_ such materials might be suitable. "

For its beauty in winter alone, the box should still find a place in ourgardens. It grows to great size. Bushes of box in the deserted garden atVaucluse in Newport, Rhode Island, are fifteen feet in height, and overthem spread the branches of forest trees that have sprung up in thegarden beds since that neglected pleasaunce was planted, over a centuryago. The beautiful border and hedges of box at Mount Vernon, the home ofWashington, plead for fresh popularity for this old-time favorite. 

Our mothers and grandmothers came honestly by their love of gardens. They inherited this affection from their Puritan, Quaker, or Dutchforbears, perhaps from the days when the famous hanging gardens ofBabylon were made for a woman. Bacon says: "A garden is the purest ofhuman pleasures, it is the greatest refreshment to the spirits of man. "A garden was certainly the greatest refreshment to the spirits of awoman in the early colonial days, and the purest of her pleasures--toooften her only pleasure. 

Quickly, in tender memory of her fair English home, the homesickgoodwife, trying to create a semblance of the birthplace she stillloved, planted the seeds and roots of homely English flowers and herbsthat grew and blossomed under bleak New England skies, and on rocky NewEngland shores, as sturdily and cheerfully as they had sprung up andbloomed by the green hedgerows and door-sides in the home beyond thesea. 

In the year 1638, and again in 1663, an English gentleman named JohnJosselyn came to New England. He published, in 1672, an account ofthese two visits. He was a man of polite reading and of culture, and aswas the high fashion for gentlemen of his day, had a taste for gardeningand botany. He made interesting lists of plants which he noted inAmerica under these heads:--

 "1. Such plants as are common with us in England. 

 "2. Such plants as are proper to the country. 

 "3. Such plants as are proper to the country and have no names. 

 "4. Such plants as have sprung up since the English planted and kept cattle in New England. 

 "5. Such Garden-Herbs among us as do thrive there and of such as do not. "

This last division is the one that specially interests us, since it isthe earliest and the fullest account of the gardens of our forefathers, after they had tamed the rugged shores of the New World, and made themobey the rule of English husbandry. They had "good store of gardenvegetables and herbs; lettuce, sorrel, parsley, mallows, chevril, burnet, summer savory, winter savory, thyme, sage, carrots, parsnips, beets, radishes, purslain, beans"; "cabbidge growing exceeding well;pease of all sorts and the best in the world; sparagus thrivesexceedingly, musk mellons, cucumbers, and pompions. " For grains therewere wheat, rye, barley, and oats. There were other garden herbs andgarden flowers: spearmint, pennyroyal, ground-ivy, coriander, dill, tansy; "feverfew prospereth exceedingly; white sattin groweth prettywell, and so doth lavender-cotton; gillyflowers will continue two years;horse-leek prospereth notably; hollyhocks; comferie with white flowers;clary lasts but one summer; sweet-bryer or eglantine; celandine butslowly; blood-wort but sorrily, but patience and English roses verypleasantly. "

Patience and English roses very pleasantly in truth must have showntheir fair English faces to English women in the strange land. Dearlyloved had these brier-roses or dog-roses been in England, where, saysthe old herbalist, Gerard, "children with delight make chains and prettygewgawes of the fruit; and cookes and gentlewomen make tarts andsuchlike dishes for pleasure thereof. " Hollyhocks, feverfew, andgillyflowers must have made a sunshine in the shady places in the newhome. Many of these garden herbs are now common weeds or roadsideblossoms. Celandine, even a century ago, was "common by fences and amongrubbish. " Tansy and elecampane grow everywhere. Sweet-brier is at homein New England pastures and roadsides. Spearmint edges our brooks. Ground-ivy is a naturalized citizen. It is easy to note that theflowers and herbs beloved in gardens and medicinal waters and kitchens"at home" were the ones transplanted here. "Clary-water" was a favoritetonic of Englishmen of that day. 

The list of "such plants as have sprung up since the English planted"should be of interest to every one who has any sense of the sentiment ofassociation, or interest in laws of succession. The Spanish proverbsays:--

 "More in the garden grows Than the gardener sows. "

The plantain has a history full of romance; its old Northernnames--_Wegetritt_ in German, _Weegbree_ in Dutch, _Viebred_ in Danish, and _Weybred_ in Old English, all indicating its presence in themuch-trodden paths of man--were not lost in its new home, nor were itscharacteristics overlooked by the nature-noting and plant-knowing redman. It was called by the Indian "the Englishman's foot, " says Josselyn, and by Kalm also, a later traveller in 1740; "for they say where anEnglishman trod, there grew a plantain in each footstep. " Not lessclosely did such old garden weeds as motherwort, groundsel, chickweed, and wild mustard cling to the white man. They are old colonists, broughtover by the first settlers, and still thrive and triumph in everykitchen garden and back yard in the land. Mullein and nettle, henbaneand wormwood, all are English emigrants. 

The Puritans were not the only flower-lovers in the new land. ThePennsylvania Quakers and Mennonites were quick to plant gardens. Pastorius encouraged all the Germantown settlers to raise flowers aswell as fruit. Whittier says of him in his _Pennsylvania Pilgrim_:--

 "The flowers his boyhood knew Smiled at his door, the same in form and hue, And on his vines the Rhenish clusters grew. "

It gives one a pleasant notion of the old Quaker, George Fox, to readhis bequest by will of a tract of land near Philadelphia "for aplayground for the children of the town to play on and for a garden toplant with physical plants, for lads and lassies to know simples, andlearn to make oils and ointments. "

Among Pennsylvanians the art of gardening reached the highest point. Thelandscape gardening was a reproduction of the best in England. Ourmodern country places cannot equal in this respect the colonial countryseats near Philadelphia. Woodlands and Bush Hill, the homes of theHamiltons, Cliveden, of Chief Justice Chew, Fair Hill, Belmont, theestate of Judge Peters, were splendid examples. An ecstatic account ofthe glories and wonders of some of them was written just after theRevolution by a visitor who fully understood their treasures, the Rev. Manasseh Cutler, the clergyman, statesman, and botanist. 

In Newport, Rhode Island, where flowers ever seem to thrive withextraordinary luxuriance, there were handsome gardens in the eighteenthcentury. A description of Mr. Bowler's garden during the Revolutionreads thus:--

 "It contains four acres and has a grand aisle in the middle. Near the middle is an oval surrounded with espaliers of fruit-trees, in the centre of which is a pedestal, on which is an armillary sphere with an equatorial dial. On one side of the front is a hot-house containing orange-trees, some ripe, some green, some blooms, and various other fruit-trees of the exotic kind and curious flowers. At the lower end of the aisle is a large summer-house, a long square containing three rooms, the middle paved with marble and hung with landscapes. On the right is a large private library adorned with curious carvings. There are espaliers of fruit-trees at each end of the garden and curious flowering shrubs. The room on the left is beautifully designed for music and contains a spinnet. But the whole garden discovered the desolations of war. "

In the Southern colonies men of wealth soon had beautiful gardens. In anearly account of South Carolina, written in 1682, we find:--

 "Their Gardens are supplied with such European Plants and Herbs as are necessary for the Kitchen, and they begin to be beautiful and adorned with such Flowers as to the Smell or Eye are pleasing or agreeable, viz. : the Rose, Tulip, Carnation, Lilly, etc. "

By the middle of the century many exquisite gardens could be seen inCharleston, and they were the pride of Southern colonial dames. Those ofMrs. Lamboll, Mrs. Hopton, and Mrs. Logan were the largest. The latterflower-lover in 1779, when seventy years old, wrote a treatise onflower-raising called _The Gardener's Kalendar_, which was read andused for many years. Mrs. Laurens had another splendid garden. ThoseSouthern ladies and their gardeners constantly sent specimens toEngland, and received others in return. The letters of the day, especially those of Eliza Lucas Pinckney, ever interested infloriculture and arboriculture, show a constant exchange with Englishflower-lovers. 

Beverley wrote of Virginia, in 1720: "A garden is nowhere sooner madethan there. " William Byrd and other travellers, a few years later, sawmany beautiful terraced gardens in Virginian homes. Mrs. Anne Grantwrites at length of the love and care the Dutch women of the pastcentury had for flowers:--

 "The care of plants such as needed peculiar care or skill to rear them, was the female province. Every one in town or country had a garden. Into the garden no foot of man intruded after it was dug in the spring. I think I see yet what I have so often beheld--a respectable mistress of a family going out to her garden, in an April morning, with her great calash, her little painted basket of seeds, and her rake over her shoulders, to her garden of labours. A woman in very easy circumstances and abundantly gentle in form and manners would sow and plant and rake incessantly. "

In New York, before the Revolution, were many beautiful gardens, suchas that of Madam Alexander on Broad Street, where in their proper seasongrew "paus bloemen of all hues, laylocks and tall May roses andsnowballs intermixed with choice vegetables and herbs all bounded andhemmed in by huge rows of neatly clipped box edgings. " We have a prettypicture also, in the letters of Catharine Rutherfurd, of an entirecompany gathering rose-leaves in June in Madam Clark's garden, andsetting the rose-still at work to turn their sweet-scented spoils intorose-water. 

A trade in flower and vegetable seeds formed a lucrative and popularmeans by which women could earn a livelihood in colonial days. I haveseen in one of the dingy little newspaper sheets of those days, in thelarge total of nine advertisements, contained therein, theannouncements, by five Boston seedswomen, of lists of their wares. 

The earliest list of names of flower-seeds which I have chanced to notewas in the _Boston Evening Post_ of March, 1760, and is of much interestas showing to us with exactness the flowers beloved and sought for atthat time. They were "holly-hook, purple Stock, white Lewpins, Africans, blew Lewpins, candy-tuff, cyanus, pink, wall-flower, double larkin-spur, venus navelwort, brompton flock, princess feather, balsam, sweet-scentedpease, carnation, sweet williams, annual stock, sweet feabus, yellowlewpins, sunflower, convolus minor, catch-fly, ten week stock, globethistle, globe amaranthus, nigella, love-lies-bleeding, casent hamen, polianthus, canterbury bells, carnation poppy, india pink, convolusmajor, Queen Margrets. " This is certainly a very pretty list of flowers, nearly all of which are still loved, though sometimes under othernames--thus the Queen Margrets are our asters. And the homely oldEnglish names seem to bring the flowers to our very sight, for we do notseem to be on very friendly intimacy, on very sociable terms withflowers, unless they have what Miss Mitford calls "decent, well-wearingEnglish names"; we can have no flower memories, no affections thatcling to botanical nomenclature. Yet nothing is more fatal to an exactflower knowledge, to an acquaintance that shall ever be more than local, than a too confident dependence on the folk-names of flowers. Ourbachelor's-buttons are ragged sailors in a neighboring state; they arecorn-pinks in Plymouth, ragged ladies in another town, blue bottles inEngland, but cyanus everywhere. Ragged robin is, in the garden of onefriend, a pink, in another it flaunts as London-pride, while the trueglowing London-pride has half a dozen pseudonyms in as many differentlocalities, and only really recognizes itself in the botany. An Americancowslip is not an English cowslip, an American primrose is no Englishprimrose, and the English daisy is no country friend of ours in America. 

What cheerful and appropriate furnishings the old-time gardens had;benches full of straw beeskepes and wooden beehives, those homelike andbusy dwelling-places; frequently, also, a well-filled dove-cote. Sometimes was seen a sun-dial--once the every-day friend and suggestivemonitor of all who wandered among the flowers of an hour; now known, alas! only to the antiquary. Sentiment and even spirituality seemsuggested by the sun-dial, yet few remain to cast their instructiveshadow before our sight. 

One stood for years in the old box-bordered garden at Homogansett Farm, at Wickford, in old Narragansett. Governor Endicott's dial is in theEssex Institute, at Salem; and my forbear, Jacob Fairbanks, had onedated 1650, which is now in the rooms of the Dedham Historical Society. Dr. Bowditch, of Boston, had a sun-dial which was thus inscribed:--

 "With warning hand I mark Times rapid flight From life's glad morning to its solemn night. And like God's love I also show Theres light above me, by the shade below. "

Another garden dial thus gives, "in long, lean letters, " its warningword:--

 "You'll mend your Ways To-morrow When blooms that budded Flour? Mortall! Lern to your Sorrow Death may creep with his Arrow And pierce yo'r vitall Marrow Long ere my warning Shadow Can mark that Hour. "

These dials are all of heavy metal, usually lead; sometimes with gnomonof brass. But I have heard of one which was unique; it was cut in box. 

At the edge of the farm garden often stood the well-sweep, one of themost picturesque adjuncts of the country dooryard. Its successor, theroofed well with bucket, stone, and chain, and even the homelylong-handled pump, had a certain appropriateness as part of the gardenfurnishings. 

So many thoughts crowd upon us in regard to the old garden; one is theage of its flowers. We have no older inhabitants than these gardenplants; they are old settlers. Clumps of flower-de-luce, doublebuttercups, peonies, yellow day-lilies, are certainly seventy-five yearsold. Many lilac bushes a century old still bloom in New England, andsyringas and flowering currants are as old as the elms and locusts thatshade them. 

This established constancy and yearly recurrence of bloom is one of thegarden's many charms. To those who have known and loved an old garden inwhich, "There grow no strange flowers every year, But when spring winds blow o'er the pleasant places, The same dear things lift up the same fair faces, "

and faithfully tell and retell the story of the changing seasons bytheir growth, blossom, and decay, nothing can seem more artificial thanthe modern show-beds of full-grown plants which are removed by assiduousgardeners as soon as they have flowered, to be replaced by others, onlyin turn to bloom and disappear. These seem to form a real garden no morethan does a child's posy-bed stuck with short-stemmed flowers to witherin a morning. 

And the tiresome, tasteless ribbon-beds of our day were preceded inearlier centuries by figured beds of diverse-colored earths--and of bothwe can say with Bacon, "they be but toys, you may see as good sightsmany times in tarts. "

The promise to Noah, "while the earth remaineth seed-time and harvestshall not cease, " when heeded in the garden, brings various interests. The seed-time, the springing-up of familiar favorites, and thecherishing of these favorites through their in-gathering of seeds orbulbs or roots for another year, bring pleasure as much as does theirinflorescence. 

Another pathetic trait of many of the old-time flowers should not beoverlooked--their persistent clinging to life after they had been exiledfrom the trim garden borders where they first saw the chill sun of a NewEngland spring. You see them growing and blooming outside the gardenfence, against old stone walls, where their up-torn roots have beenthrown to make places for new and more popular favorites. You find themcheerfully spreading, pushing along the foot-paths, turning intovagrants, becoming flaunting weeds. You see them climbing here andthere, trying to hide the deserted chimneys of their early homes, orwandering over and hiding the untrodden foot-paths of other days. Avivid imagination can shape many a story of their life in the intervalbetween their first careful planting in colonial gardens and theirneglected exile to highways and byways, where the poor bits ofdepauperated earth can grow no more lucrative harvest. 

The sites of colonial houses which are now destroyed, the trend, almostthe exact line of old roads, can be traced by the cheerful faces ofthese garden-strays. The situation of old Fort Nassau, in Pennsylvania, so long a matter of uncertainty, is said to have been definitelydetermined by the familiar garden flowers found growing on one of thesedisputed sites. It is a tender thought that this indelible mark is leftupon the face of our native land through the affection of our forbearsfor their gardens. 

The botany tells us that bouncing-bet has "escaped fromcultivation"--she has been thrust out, but unresentfully lives andsmiles; opening her tender pinky-opalescent flowers adown the dustyroadsides, and even on barren gravel-beds in railroad cuts. Butter-and-eggs, tansy, chamomile, spiked loosestrife, velvet-leaf, bladder-campion, cypress spurge, live-for-ever, star of Bethlehem, money-vine, --all have seen better days, but now are flower-tramps. Eventhe larkspur, beloved of children, the moss-pink, and the grape-hyacinthmay sometimes be seen growing in country fields and byways. The homelyand cheerful blossoms of the orange-tawny ephemeral lily, and thespotted tiger-lily, whose gaudy colors glow with the warmth of farCathay--their early home--now make gay many of our roadsides and crowdupon the sweet cinnamon roses of our grandmothers, which also areundaunted garden exiles. 

Driving once along a country road, I saw on the edge of a field anexpanse of yellow bloom which seemed to be an unfamiliar field-tint. Itproved to be a vast bed of coreopsis, self-sown from year to year; andthe blackened outlines of an old cellar wall in its midst showed that inthat field once stood a home, once there a garden smiled. 

I am always sure when I see bouncing-bet, butter-and-eggs, and tawnylilies growing in a tangle together that in their midst may be found anuntrodden door-stone, a fallen chimney, or a filled-in well. 

Still broader field expanses are filled with old-country plants. In Junea golden glory of bud and blossom covers the hills and fields of EssexCounty in Massachusetts from Lynn to Danvers, and Ryal Side to Beverly;it is the English gorse or woad-wax, and by tradition it was firstbrought to this country in spray and seed as a packing for some of thehousehold belongings of Governor Endicott. Thrown out in friendly soil, the seeds took root and there remain in the vicinity of their firstAmerican homes. It is a stubborn squatter, yielding only to scythe, plough, and hoe combined. 

Chicory or blue weed was, it is said, brought from England by GovernorBowdoin as food for his sheep. It has spread till its extended presencehas been a startling surprise to all English visiting botanists. Ithurts no one's fields, for it invades chiefly waste and neglectedland--the "dear common flower"--and it has redeemed many a city suburbof vacant lots, many a railroad ash heap from the abomination ofdesolation. 

Whiteweed or ox-eye daisy, a far greater pest than gorse or chicory, hasbeen carried intentionally to many a township by homesick settlers whosedescendants to-day rue the sentiment of their ancestors. 

While the vallied garden of our old neighbors was sweet with blossoms, my mother's garden bore a still fresher fragrance--that of green growingthings; of "posies, " lemon-balm, rose geranium, mint, and sage. I alwaysassociate with it in spring the scent of the strawberry bush, orcalycanthus, and in summer of the fraxinella, which, with its tall stemof larkspur-like flowers, its still more graceful seed-vessels and itsshining ash-like leaves, grew there in rich profusion and gave forthfrom leaf, stem, blossom, and seed a pure, a memory-sweet perfume halflike lavender, half like anise. 

Truly, much of our tenderest love of flowers comes from association, andmany are lovingly recalled solely by their odors. Balmier breath thanwas ever borne by blossom is to me the pure pungent perfume of ambrosia, rightly named, as fit for the gods. Not the miserable weed ambrosia ofthe botany, but a lowly herb that grew throughout the entire summereverywhere in "our garden"; sowing its seeds broadcast from year toyear; springing up unchecked in every unoccupied corner, and under everyshrub and bushy plant; giving out from serrated leaf and irregularraceme of tiny pale-green flowers, a spicy aromatic fragrance if webrushed past it, or pulled a weed from amongst it as we strolled downthe garden walk. And it is our very own--I have never seen it elsewherethan at my old home, and in the gardens of neighbors to whom its seedswere given by the gentle hand that planted "our garden" and made it adelight. Goethe says, "Some flowers are lovely to the eye, but othersare lovely to the heart. " Ambrosia is lovely to my heart, for it was mymother's favorite. 

And as each "spring comes slowly up the way, " I say in the words ofSolomon, "Awake, O north wind; and come, thou south; blow upon mygarden, that the spices thereof may flow out"--that the balm and mint, the thyme and southernwood, the sweetbrier and ambrosia, may springafresh and shed their tender incense to the memory of my mother, whoplanted them and loved their pure fragrance, and at whose presence, asat that of Eve, flowers ever sprung--

 "And touched by her fair tendance gladlier grew. "

Index

Abington, church vote in, 286. 

Acrelius, Dr. , quoted, 146. 

Adams, Abigail, garden of, 435. 

Adams, John, quoted, 71, 160; Sunday dinner of, 159-160; cider-drinking of, 161. 

Adams, John Quincy, Mrs. , straw bonnet of, 261. 

Adams family, homes of, 22. 

Albany, houses at, 9; deer in, 109; beer at, 161; bad boys in, 374-375; first church in, 385; cow-herding in, 399. 

Alchymy, 88. 

Alewives, in New England waters, 120. 

Ambrosia, a flower, 450. 

Ames, quoted, 136. 

Amherst, sign-board at, 360. 

Andirons, 62. 

Andover, church vote in, 286; bad boy in, 373. 

Annapolis, dress in, 293. 

Apostle spoons, 90. 

Apples, culture of, 145; plenty in Maryland, 145; modes of cooking, 146; in pies, 146. 

Apple-butter, 146-147. 

Apple-paring, 146-147. 

Apple-sauce, 146-147. 

Architecture, of churches, 364 _et seq. _, 385 _et seq. _

Arkamy, 88. 

Axe-helves, 314-315. 

Back-bar of fireplace, description, 53. 

Bacon, quoted, 431. 

Bagging, from coarse flax, 172. 

Bake-kettle, 66. 

Bake-shops, 147. 

Ballots, of corn and beans, 141. 

Balsam, as dye, 194. 

Baltimore, dress in, 293; taverns in, 359. 

Banyan, 294. 

Barberry, root as dye, 194. 

Basins, 106. 

Bass, in New England waters, 120-121. 

Bass-viols, in meeting, 378. 

Bates of flax, 169. 

Batteau, 329. 

Batten, of loom, 220-221. 

Baxter, 187. 

Bayberry, description, 39; candles of, 39; wax of, 40; laws about, 40; soap from, 255. 

Bead bags, 263. 

Beam. See Warp-beam. 

Beaming, in weaving, 218. 

Beans, as ballots, 141; mode of cooking, 145. 

Bed coverlet. See Coverlet. 

Bedstead, alcove, 55; turn-up, 55-56. 

Beer, among Dutch, 161. 

Bees, called English flies, 111. 

Beehives, 442. 

Beetling of flax, 172. 

Bell, as summons to meeting, 368. 

Belt-loom. See Tape-loom. 

Bennet, quoted, 123. 

Berkeley, Gov. , quoted, 111, 360-361. 

Berries, 145. 

Betty lamps, 43-44. 

Beverages. See Drinks. 

Bible, references to flax in, 177. 

Biddeford, communal privileges in, 390. 

Bier, in weaving, 220. 

Birch-bark, doors of, 6; plates of, 83; baskets of, cans of, 253, 310. 

Birch broom, making of, 301-303; price of, 302. 

Blackjacks, 95-96. 

Blazing, of trees, 330. 

Bleaching, of flax thread, 175; of linen, 234; of straw bonnets, 261. 

Bleeding-basins, 86. 

Block-houses, 26. 

Boards, scarcity of, 76. 

Board cloth, 76-77. 

Boardman Hill House, 22. 

Bobbins, for weaving. See Quills. 

Bobs, of flax, 168. 

Bombards, 96. 

Books of etiquette, 79. 

Bore-staff of loom, 224. 

Boston, fire-engine in, 19; early houses of, 19, 27; first fork in, 77; pigeons in, 110; fish in, 123; tea in, 164-165; coffee in, 165; chocolate in, 165; spinning schools in, 180; fulling-mill in, 187; dress in, 292-294; coach in, 331; stage-travel from, 350-351; night watch in, 363; meeting-houses in, 364, 366; restrictions of settlement in, 394; cows in, 400. 

Bottles, of wood, 82; of pewter, 85; of glass, 92-93; of leather, 95. 

Boucher, Jonathan, quoted, 382. 

Bouncing-bet, 427, 447. 

Bounty coats, 248. 

Bouts, in weaving, 218. 

Box-borders, a plea for, 430-431. 

Boxing, of maple trees, 112. 

Boylston, Nicholas, banyan of, 294. 

Boys, clothing of, 287-288; wigs of, 297; seats in meeting for, 372 _et seq. _; misbehavior of, 372-373; in church, 384. 

Braid-loom. See Tape-loom. 

Bradford, Governor, quoted, 129-130. 

Bread, white, 147; rye and Indian, 147

Bread-peel, 67. 

Breadtrough, 311. 

Breakfast, or bread and milk, 148. 

Breaking, of flax, 169-170; of hemp, 170. 

Breaking out the winter roads, 412 _et seq. _

Breweries, in New York, 161. 

Brewster, Elder, quoted, 117. 

Brick, imported, 21. 

British spinning and weaving school, 186. 

Broach, 198. 

Brooklyn, oysters in, 118-119; salting shad in, 124-125. 

Brooms, of broom-corn, 256-257; of birch, 301-304; of hemlock, 304-305. 

Broom-corn, 256-257. 

Brown University, dress of first graduating class, 183. 

Bucking, of flax thread, 175; of linen, 234. 

Bull's-eye lamp, 45. 

Bun, of flax, 169. 

Bunch-thread, 251. 

Bundling-mould. See Shingling-mould. 

Burlers, in weaving, 252. 

Bushnell, Horace, quoted, 246. 

Busks, carved, 320. 

Butter, price of, 149. 

Buttermilk, for bleaching, 175. 

Caches, for corn, 138. 

Cage, for babies, 372; for bad boys, 385. 

Calash, 289. 

Calf-keeper, duties of, 400. 

Cambridge, cow-herding in, 399. 

Campbell, Madam Angelica, coach of, 335. 

Candles, cost of, 34; making of, 35-37; materials for, 38-39, 42. 

Candle-arms, 42. 

Candle-beams, 42. 

Candle-box, 38. 

Candle-dipping, 36. 

Candle-moulds, 36-37. 

Candle-prongs, 42. 

Candle-rods, 36. 

Candle-sticks, 42. 

Candle-wood, 32. 

Canoes, 323-327. 

Canteens, of horn, 321. 

Captain of the watch, duties of, 380. 

Cards. See Wool-cards. 

Carding described, 194-196. 

Carding-machines, 206. 

Card-setting. See Wool-cards. 

Capuchins, 295. 

Carolinas, sweet potatoes in, 145; hand-weaving in, 249-251; gardens in, 438-439. 

Carpet. See Rag carpet. 

Carrots, 145. 

Carving, terms in, 104-105; of wood, 320; of horn, 321-322. 

Caves, description of, 2; for corn, 138. 

Cave-dwellers, 1. 

Cedar tops, for dyeing, 251. 

Cellar of Dutch houses, 10. 

Chain in weaving, 250. 

Chair-seats, 310-311. 

Chaise of Brother Jonathan, 353. 

"Change-work, " 417. 

Chap-men, 300. 

Chargers, 80, 84. 

Charleston, flax manufacture in, 182-183; dress in, 293; gardens in, 438-439. 

Charlevoix, Father, on canoes, 327. 

Chaucer, quoted, on spinning, 179. 

Chebobbin, 415. 

Cheese, making of, 150. 

Cheese-basket, 150-151. 

Cheese-hoop, 312. 

Cheese-ladder, 150-151, 312. 

Cheese-press, 150-151, 312. 

Chesapeake, turkeys on, 109; wild fowl on, 125. 

Chicory, introduction of, 449. 

Children, at table, 101-102; occupations of, 179-180, 182, 188-189, 203-204, 261-262; dress of, 287; in meeting, 372 _et seq. _; in noon-house, 376. 

Chimney, catted, 15, 53; size of, 52, 68; description, 53; in Dutch houses, 55. 

China, early use of, 100; importation of, 100-101. 

Chinese stuffs, 294. 

Chinking walls, 5. 

Chopping-bee, 403 _et seq. _

Chorister, in Dutch churches, 386. 

Churches, in Virginia, 381-383; in Albany, 385. See also Meeting-house. 

Churns, few in New England, 149; examples of, 149-150; whittling of, 312. 

Cider, use by children, 148-149, 161; use by students, 161; price of, 161; manufacture of, 161-162; generous use of, 161-163. 

Clam-shells, use of, 308-309. 

Clarionets, in meeting, 378. 

Clavell-piece, 54. 

Clay, for dyeing, 241. 

Clergymen, in Virginia, 384. 

Clocks, 299. 

Clock-jack, 65. 

Clock-reel, 174-175; price of, 177; for yarn, 200. 

Clogs, 295. 

Cloth, finishing of, 231-233. 

Cloth bar, 224. 

Clothes, durability of, 281; extravagance in, 281; laws about, 281 _et seq. _; of Massachusetts settlers, 286-287; of Virginia planters, 287; of children, 288 _et seq. _

Coaches, in Boston, 331, 353-354; in England, 354; Judge Sewall on, 354; in New York, 354-355. See also Stage-coach. 

Coat-of-arms, on sampler, 267. 

Coat roll, 248. 

Cob irons, 62. 

Cocoanut-cups, 96-97. 

Codfish, early discoverers on, 115-116; plenty of, 115; in New England waters, 120-121; varieties of, 121; for Saturday dinner, 122; price in Boston, 123. See Fish and Fishing. 

Coffee, substitutes for, 159; early use of, 165; queer mode of cooking, 165. 

Colchester, girls' life in, 253. 

Cold houses, 70-71. 

Cold party, 419. 

Colored herbs, 430. 

Coloring, 23. 

Combing, description of, 196. 

Combing machine, 230. 

Combs. See Wool-combs. 

Comfortier, 69. 

Common crops, 130. 

Common herds. See Herding. 

Common lands, 398. 

Communal privileges, 390 _et seq. _

Conch-shell, as summons to meeting, 367-368. 

Concord coaches, 352-353. 

Concordance, 33. 

Conestoga wagon, 339-343; shape of, 339; rates on, 340; great number of, 340. 

Connecticut, tar-making in, 33; pumpkin bread in, 143; flax culture in, 179; straw manufacture in, 260. 

Contributions in New England meetings, 378; in Dutch churches, 386-387. 

Cooking, influence of Indian methods, 131-136; English modes of, 151; spices used in, 152; limitations in, 158-159. 

Coöperation in olden times, 389 _et seq. _

Corbel roof, 9. 

Coreopsis, persistence of, 448. 

Corn, influence on colonists' lives, 126; in Virginia, 127-128; price of, 128, 138; scarcity of, 129; mode of cultivating, 130-131; Indian foods from, 131; Indian modes of preparing, 131; modes of cooking, 133-136; as currency, 138; profits on raising, 139; games with, 139; shelling of, 139-140; as ballots, 141; as national flower, 141. 

Corn-cobs, use of, 141, 209. 

Corn dances, 138. 

Corn-husking, description of, 136. 

Corn-sheller, 140-141. 

Cotton, early use of, 206-207; cultivation of, 207; rarity of, 207-208; domestic manufacture, 209-210; Golden Age of, 230. 

Cotton-gin, 208. 

Cotton, John, quoted, 148, 285. 

Coverlets, in Pennsylvania, 190; in Narragansett, 242-246. 

Cows, herding of, 399-401. 

Cowherds, duties of, 399-400; pay of, 399. 

Cowkeeps, 399. 

Cow-pens, 400. 

Crabs, in Virginia, 118. 

Crane, 53. 

Creepers, 62. 

Crocus, 237. 

Crofting, of linen, 234. 

Crown-imperial, 425. 

Cups, 85, 90, 93-96. 

Currency, corn as, 138. 

"Cut-down, " of trees, 405. 

Cutler, Dr. , quoted, 159. 

Cut-tails, 122-123. 

Daffodils, 426-427. 

Dale, Sir Thomas, on corn-growing, 127; on Sunday observance, 380. 

Danvers, Mass. , house in, 30. 

Daubing walls, 5. 

Daughters of Liberty, 183-184. 

Day's work in spinning, 185. 

Deacons, in Dutch churches, 386-387. 

Deacons' pew, 374. 

"Deaconing" the psalm, 378. 

Deaf pew, 374. 

Dedham, Mass. , house in, 22-23. 

Deer, abundance of, 108-109; description of, 108. 

Deerskin, clothing of, 288-289. 

De La Warre, church attendance of, 382. 

Delaware, house pie in, 146. 

Delft ware, 100. 

Dents, of sley, 219-220. 

Designs, for weaving, 243-244, 250-251; of ancient Gauls, 242; for quilts, 272-273; for paper-cutting, 278-289. 

Dew-retting, 169. 

Dimity, 250. 

Dinner, serving of, 104; primitive forms, 105-106; for Saturday, 122; in New York, 159; at John Adams' home, 159-160. 

Discomforts of temperature, 70-71. 

Distaff, in India, 178. 

Dogs, in meeting, 374. 

Dog-pelter, 374. 

Dog-whipper, 374. 

Donnison family, fire buckets of, 18. 

Door latch, 11, 318. 

Dorchester, windmill at, 133; corporation, laws in, 392, 394. 

Double string-roaster, 64. 

Drawing, in weaving, 219. 

Drawing a bore, 224. 

Dress. See Clothes. 

Dresser, 68. 

Drinking-cups, 85-96, 98. 

Drinks, from curious materials, 163. 

Drinking habits, 93-94, 161, 164. 

Drinking-horns, 321. 

Driver, 198. 

Drugget, 250. 

Drum, as summons to meeting, 367, 368. 

Duck. See Wild fowl. 

Duer, Colonel, dinner of, 159. 

Dugouts, 326. 

Dunfish, 121-122. Also see Codfish. 

Durability of homespun, 238-239. 

Durham, church discipline in, 372. 

Dutch mode of serving meals, 106. 

Dutch oven, 65. 

Dyes, domestic, 155, 193-194, 250-251. 

Dye-flower, 251. 

Earmarks, 400. 

Eastern Stage Company, 351. 

Economy of colonists, 42, 185, 321-324; of Martha Washington, 237-238. 

Eddis, quoted, 118. 

Eels, method of catching, 117. 

Egypt, flax in, 177-178; linen in, 178. 

Embroidery. See Needlework. 

Emerson, R. W. , appointed hog-reeve, 403. 

Endicott, Governor, sun-dial of, 443; his introduction of woad-wax, 448. 

Entering, in weaving. See Drawing. 

Ernst, C. W. , quoted, 343, 345. 

Etiquette for children, 100-102; of carving, 104-105. 

Eye, of harness, 218. 

Fairbanks, Jacob, house of, 22-23; sun-dial of, 443. 

Fairs, instituted by Penn, 190; encouraged by Franklin, 191. 

Faneuil, Miss, dress of, 292. 

Fences, different varieties of, 25; common building of, 401-402; laws about, 401-402. 

Fence-viewers, 401. 

Ferries, by canoe, 330-331. 

Finlay, Hugh, postal report of, 333-335. 

Fireback, 54. 

Fire-buckets, description, 16; use of, 17; of Donnison's, 18; of Quincy's, 18; of Oliver's, 19. 

Fire-dogs, 62. 

Fire-engine, first in Boston, 19; first in Brooklyn, 19. 

Fire-hunting, 108-109. 

Fire lanes, 16. 

Fire laws, 15. 

Fireplace of our fathers, 53. 

Fire-plate, 54-55. 

Fire-room, 7. 

Fire-wardens, 15. 

Fish, plenty of, 115-125; varieties of, in New England waters, 117; in Virginia waters, 119; in New York waters, 120; salted, 124-125; as fertilizer, 130; poisoned by flax, 169. 

Fishing, King James on, 116; ill-success in, 117; supplies for, 117; in Virginia, 119-120; encouragement of, 121; laws on, 121; division of profit, 122, 123. 

Fish-weirs, 121. 

Flag, as summons to meeting, 368. 

Flails, making of, 312; use of, 313-314. 

Flannel sheets, 238. 

Flax, patch of, 167; blossom of, 167; growth of, 168; weeding of, 168; ripening of, 168; pulling of, 168; spreading of, 168; rippling of, 168-169; watering of, 169; stacking of, 169; breaking of, 169-170; tenacity of, 171; swingling of, 171-172; beetling of, 172; hetcheling of, 172-173; spreading and drawing, 173; many manipulations of, 173; spinning of, 174; in Bible, 177; in Egypt, 177-178; in New England, 179-181, 186; in Pennsylvania, 181; in Virginia, 181, 182; in South Carolina, 182-183; in Ireland, 186; in Courtrai, 186; in England, 186. 

Flax basket, 173. 

Flax-brake, 169-170. 

Flax hetchels, 172. 

Flaxseed, how sown, 167; how gathered, 168, 176; how stored, 176. 

Flax-thread, spinning of, 174; knotting of, 175; reeling of, 175; bleaching of, 175; backing of, 175. 

Flax-wheel, revival of, 167; use of, 174; price of, 177. 

Flint and steel, 48. 

Flower, a national, 141. 

Flowers, in churches, 383; old-time, 421 _et seq. _; folk-names of, 448; age of, 443-445; persistency of, 447; escaped from cultivation, 448. 

Flower-seeds, sold by women, 440-441; old list of, 441. 

Flutes, in meeting, 378. 

Flying-machine, 345. 

Fly-shuttle, 228. 

Food, from forests, 108-114; from sea and river, 114-125; transportation of, 143; entirely from farm, 158; substitutes, 158-159. 

Foot-mantle, 295. 

Foot-paths, 329. 

Foot-stoves, 375, 385. 

Foot-treadle, of loom, 219. 

Foot-wheel. See Flax-wheel. 

Foote, Abigail, diary of, 253. 

Forefathers' Dinner, 129. 

Forests, destruction of, 52; riches of, 108-114. 

Forms, 101. 

Forks, use of, 77; first, 77. 

Forts, as churches, 365, 385. 

Fox, George, bequest of, 437. 

Franklin, quoted, 53, 181; fairs encouraged by, 191; advertisement of, 292-293; as postmaster, 333; set milestones, 335; cyclometer of, 335-336; on canals, 353; in sedan-chair, 356. 

Franklin stove, 70. 

Fraxinella, 449. 

Fringe-loom, 227. 

Frocking, striped, 237. 

Fulling-mill, in Boston, 188. 

Fulling-stocks, 232. 

Fulham jugs, 98. 

Funerals, rings at, 298; gloves at, 298-299. 

Furs, search for, 115. 

Fustian, in America, 237; in Europe, 237. 

Gallows-balke, 53. 

Gallows-crooks, 53. 

Gallows-frame. See Tape-loom. 

Gambrels, 310. 

Gambrel roof, description, 22. 

Games, with corn, 139. 

Garden, an old-time, 419 _et seq. _; in New England, 419 _et seq. _; in southern colonies, 438-439; in New York, 439-440. 

Garnish of pewter, 85. 

Garrison house, 26. 

Garter-loom. See Tape-loom. 

Geese, raising of, 257-258; pickings of, 257-259; noise of, 258. 

Georgia, deer in, 109; turkeys in, 110; hand-weaving in, 249-251. 

Georgius Rex jug, 99. 

Germantown, flax-raising at, 181; flax-workers at, 181; seal of, 181; wool manufacture at, 190. 

Gibcrokes, 53. 

Gimlet, 305. 

Giotto, loom of, 213. 

Girdling, of trees, 403. 

Girls, dress of, 289-292; seats in meeting for, 372. 

Giskins, 96. 

Glass, in windows, 23, 366; nailed in, 366; for lamps, 46; early use of, 92. 

Gloucester, old house at, 70; fishing at, 122-123; communal privileges in, 390. 

Gloves, given at funerals, 298-299. 

Going a-leafing, 67. 

Goldenrod, as dye, 193. 

Goloe-shoes, 295. 

Gookin, quoted, 137. 

Goose-basket, 258. 

Goose-neck andirons, 62. 

Goose yoke, 258. 

Gorse. See Woad-wax. 

Gourds, cups of, 96; utensils of, 309. 

Grant, Mrs. Anne, on Dutch gardens, 439. 

Grapes, 145. 

Grassing, of linen, 234. 

Greeley, Horace, on canal-travel, 353. 

Gridirons, 61. 

Grist-mill, earliest, 133. 

Guinea wheat, 129. See Corn. 

Gun, as summons to meeting, 368. 

Gundalow, 329. 

Gutters of houses, 9. 

Hackling. See Hetcheling. 

Hadley, shad in, 123-124; potatoes in, 144; broom-making in, 256-257; restrictions of settlement in, 392-393; hay-ward in, 402. 

Hakes, 53. 

Half-faced camp, 3. 

Hammond, John, quoted, 395. 

Hamor, Ralph, quoted, 143. 

Hancock House, knocker of, 28; on sampler, 268. 

Hancock, John, hatred of pewter, 85; drinking cup of, 97; dress of, 293. 

Hand-distaff. See Distaff. 

Hand-loom. See Loom. 

Hand-reel. See Niddy-noddy. 

Hap-harlot, 242. 

Harness. See Heddle. 

Harvard College, standing salt of, 78-79; trenchers at, 81. 

Hasty pudding, 135. 

Hats, worn in meeting, 285; church votes about, 286. 

Hay-wards, 402. 

Heddle of loom, 219. 

Heddle-frame. See Tape-loom. 

Heel-pegs. See Shoe-pegs. 

Hemlock, brooms of, 304-305; boxes of, 310. 

Hemp, blossom of, 167; breaking of, 169. 

Herding, of cows, 399-401; of sheep, 401; of swine, 403. 

Hetcheling of flax, 172. 

Hexe, of flax, 169. 

Hides, use of, 109; tax on, 109. 

Higginson, quoted, 33, 35, 117, 148. 

Hind's-foot handle, 90. 

Hinges, material of, 9, 318. 

Hingham, church at, 365. 

Hogarth, loom of, 213-214. 

Hogs, as scavengers, 125; yokes of, 311; laws about, 402-403. 

Hog-reeves, 402-403. 

Homespun industries, 167; beneficent effect of, 179; foundation of liberty, 189. 

Hominy, 131. 

Honey, plenty of, 111. 

Honey-locust, 163. 

Horn, spoons of, 88; cups of, 96; as summons to meeting, 368. 

Horse-blocks, in front of churches, 367. 

Horse-bridges, 331. 

Horse-laurel, as dye, 194. 

Hose. See Stockings. 

Hospitality, in Southern colonies, 395 _et seq. _

Hound handle, 100. 

Hour-glass, in meeting, 376. 

Housekeeper, qualifications of, 252-253. 

House pie, 146. 

House-raising. See Raising. 

Hyperion tea, 165. 

India china, 100. 

Indians, houses of, 3-4; caves of, 138; corn dances of, 138; cultivation of corn by, 126-131; endurance of, 137; mode of cooking corn, 131-135; names of corn foods, 131-137; mode of drying pumpkins, 143; spoons of, 88; mode of cooking beans, 145; brooms of, 301-304; four best things, 304; modes of travel of, 325; boats of, 325; paths of, 329-330. 

Indian corn. See Corn. 

Indian pudding, 135. 

Indigo, as dye, 193. 

Inns. See Taverns. 

Invention, of cotton-gin, 208; of fly-shuttle, 228; of spinning-jenny, 229; of throstle-spun yarn, 229; of combing-machine, 230; of flax-spinning machine, 230-231. 

Ipswich, grist-mill at, 133. 

Iris, as dye, 193. 

Itineracies, old-time, 176, 300-301. 

Jack-knife, 307-308. 

Jacks, 64. 

James I. On fishing, 116. 

Jamestown, spinning-schools at, 182; summons to meeting at, 367. 

Jeans, 250. 

Jefferson, Thomas, quoted, 207, 256; hospitality of, 397; impoverishment of, 397-398. 

Jewellery, slight wear of, 297. 

Johnson, quoted, 143, 145, 188. 

Johnson, Governor, baby clothes of, 265. 

Johnny-cakes, 135. 

Josselyn, quoted, 117; his list of plants in New England, 432 _et seq. _

Judd, Sylvester, quoted, 216, 237. 

Jugs, of stoneware, 98. 

Jumel, Madame, cave house of, 3. 

Kalm, quoted, 39-40; on squirrels, 110; on bees, 111; on maize bread, 134; on canoes, 326-327; on the plantain, 436. 

Kearsarge, Mount, romance of, 405. 

Kentucky, hand-weaving in, 249. 

Ketch, 328. 

Kill-devil. See Rum. 

Killing time, 153. 

King Hooper house, 30. 

Kitchen, description, 52; in rhyme, 73-75. 

Knife. See Jack-knife. 

Knife-racks, 68. 

Knights, Madame, quoted, 8; on canoes, 327-328; journey of, 332; on sleighs, 355. 

Knitting, 190; yarn for, 201; by children, 261-262; elaborate designs, 262. 

Knitting machine, 190. 

Knives, of flax brake, 170. 

Knocker, Hancock house, 28; Winslow house, 29. 

Knots, of flax thread, 175. 

Krankbesoeckers, 385. 

Labadist missionaries, quoted, 118-119. 

Lad's lore, 428. 

Lamps, 43-45. 

Lathe. See Batten. 

Latten ware, 58. 

Laws, about flax culture, 179-180; about dress, 282-284; about ferries, 330-331; about mail, 334; about taverns, 357; on observance of Sunday, 378-379; of warning out, 392 _et seq. _; about fences, 401-402. 

Lay, of loom. See Batten. 

Laying a fire, 74. 

Lays, of flax thread, 175. 

Lean-to, description, 22. 

Leashes, of heddle, 219. 

Leather, utensils of, 95-96. 

Letters. See Post. 

Liberty Tea, 165. 

Lincoln, Abraham, early home of, 4; rail-splitting, 25. 

Linden, fibre from, 211. 

Linen, manipulations of, 234; clothing of, 234; sentiment of, 234; price of, 234; checked, 238. 

Lining the psalm, 378. 

Litster, 187. 

Livingstone, John, clothing of, 288. 

Loaf-sugar. See Sugar-cones. 

Lobsters, plenty of, 117; vast size of, 118. 

Logan, Mrs. , on flower-raising, 438. 

Log cabin, forms of, 5. 

Logging-bee, 416, 417. 

Log-rolling, 389, 404, 406. 

Longfellow, quoted, 327. 

Long Island, bayberries on, 40; samp-mortars on, 133; wool raising on, 191; bad boys on, 373; Sunday observance on, 385; cow-herding on, 400. 

Long-short, 236-237. 

Loom, antiquity of, 213-214; of Giotto, 213; of Hogarth, 213-214; description of, 214. See Power-loom, Tape-loom. 

Loom-room, 212. 

Louisiana, corn in, 128; petticoat rebellion in, 128; hand-weaving in, 250. 

Lowell, quoted, 73. 

Lucas, Governor, quoted, 182-183. 

Lug-pole, 53. 

Luxury, after the Revolution, 159-160. 

Lye, making of, 254. 

MacMaster, quoted, 207. 

Madison, Dolly, dress of, 290. 

Mail, of heddle, 219. 

Mail. See Post. 

Mail coaches, 344, 350. 

Maine, windows in, 23; candle-wood in, 32; chums in, 149; axe-making in, 315. 

Maize. See Corn. 

Mandillion, 287. 

Manhattan, bark houses on, 4; palisados on, 24. 

Manners. See Etiquette. 

Maple sugar, old description of, 111; manufacture of, 111-112. 

Maple-wood, bowls of, 82, 318-320. 

Marblehead, fishing at, 122-123. 

Marigolds, 427. 

Marmalades, 152. 

Maryland, houses in, 11; wild fowl in, 125; apples in, 145; hospitality in, 396-397. 

Masks, 290. 

Massachusetts, cave dwellings in, 1; palisados in, 24; venison in, 109; fish in, 123; flax culture in, 179-180; wool-raising in, 188; bounty in, 205; sumptuary laws in, 281-284; outfit for settlers, 286-287; ferries in, 330-331. 

Matches, first, 50-51. 

Mazer, 319. 

Mead, 163. 

Meeting-house, in Boston, 364, 366; in Salem, 364; in Hingham, 365; descriptions of, 364, 366-369. 

Metheglin, 163. 

Metheglin cups, 85. 

Metzel-soup, 419. 

Milestones, 335-336. 

Milford, Conn. , palisados in, 24. 

Milk, price of, 148; use as food, 148. 

Milk pitchers, names of, 106. 

Milkweed, for candle wicks, 35, 211. 

Mill, Indian, 132. 

Mince-pies, pioneer, 159. 

Ministers, encourage fisheries, 121. 

Mittens, fine knitting of, 262; quick knitting of, 262. 

Modesty-piece, 270-271. 

Molasses, for New England slave-trade, 163. 

Monkey spoons, 90. 

Moore, Thomas, quoted, 348. 

Mortar, Indian, 132. 

Morton, quoted, 120-121. 

Moss-pink, 423. 

Mount Vernon, description of, 13; weaving at, 237; garden at, 431. 

Mourning rings. See Rings. 

Mourning samplers, 268-269. 

Muffs, worn by men, 298, 386. 

Mutton, its disuse previous to Revolution, 189, 191. 

Nails, scarcity of, 11. 

Napkins, use of, 77. 

Narragansett, hand-weaving in, 241-244; shift marriages in, 241-242; old quilt in, 275-276; threshing in, 313-314. 

Needlework, stitches in, 264-265; delicacy of, 265; rules for, 265. 

Neighborhood, title of settlement, 391. 

Neighbors, old-time, 388 _et seq. _, 395 _et seq. _

Netting, 263-264. 

Nettles, fibre spun, 211. 

New Amsterdam, first church in, 385; laws about fences in, 401-402. 

Newman, Rev. Mr. , manner of work, 33. 

Newburyport, house at, 27; straw bleaching at, 261; sumptuary laws in, 283; fines in, 374. 

New England, houses in, 15; candle-wood in, 32; lobsters in, 117; fisheries in, 117-124; Indian corn in, 127-136; mills in, 131-133; pumpkins in, 142-143; potatoes in, 144; squashes in, 144; milk and ministers in, 148; churns in, 149; cider in, 161-162; rum in, 163-164; slavery in, 164; wool-raising in, 188-189; taverns in, 356-357; watchmen in, 363; meeting-houses in, 365 _et seq. _; summons to meeting in, 368; Sunday observance in, 378 _et seq. _; "taste of dinner in, " 418; old-time gardens in, 421 _et seq. _

New Hampshire, candle-wood in, 32; potatoes in, 144; pioneer mince-pies in, 159; wheelwrights in, 176; flax manufacture in, 180, 236; fine knitting in, 269; birch brooms in, 304. 

New Haven, restrictions in, 392. 

New London, mill at, 133. 

Newport, box plants at, 430; garden in, 437-438. 

New York, houses in, 8; candle-wood in, 32; first fork in, 78; venison in, 109; lobsters at, 118; fish in, 120; salting shad in, 124-125; suppawn in, 133; ale and beer in, 161; wool-raising in, 191; dress in, 292; turnpikes in, 349-350; coaches in, 354-355; sleighs in, 355; street lighting in, 362; watch in, 363; Sunday observance in, 384; cow-herding in, 399; gardens in, 439-440. 

Niddy-noddy, 200-201; carved, 320. 

Nightgowns, 294. 

Nocake, description of, 137; use of, 137; Eliot's use of word, 137-138. 

Noggins, 82. 

Noil, 196. 

Nokick. See Nocake. 

Noon-houses, 374-375. 

Noon-marks, 299. 

Norridgewock, life-work of a citizen of, 407-408. 

Northampton, sumptuary laws in, 283-284. 

Northboro, spinning match at, 184. 

North Saugus, house in, 21. 

Norwich, naughty girl in, 373. 

Notices, nailed on church doors, 367. 

Nott, President, story of boyhood, 202-203. 

Occamy, 88. 

Occupations, of children, 179, 180, 182, 186, 437; of women, 187. 

Oiled paper for windows, 23, 366. 

Old South Church, on sampler, 268. 

Old Ship, 365. 

Old South, 366. 

Opening in land, clearing, 406. 

Ordinary, name for tavern, 356. 

Osenbrigs, 288. 

Otis, Hannah, sampler of, 268. 

Overhang, in walls, 19-20. 

Ovens, 67. 

Ox-bows, 311. 

Oxen, sign of distress in, 413. 

Oysters, in Brooklyn, 118-119; in Virginia, 119; vast size of, 119. 

Pace-weight, of loom, 224. 

Pack-horses, use of, 336-339; pay for, 337; load of, 337-338. 

Pails, early, 58. 

Paint, not used, 23. 

Pales. See Fences. 

Palfrey, quoted, 122. 

Palisado, description of, 24. 

Pansy, folk-names of, 425-426. 

Paper-cutting. See Papyrotamia. 

Papyrotamia, 277-278. 

Parley, Peter, reminiscence of, 140. 

Parsnips, 145. 

Pastorius, Father, his choice for seal, 181; his encouragement of gardening, 436. 

Patchwork. See Quilt-piecing. 

Patent, first to Americans, 138-139, 260. 

Pattens, 295. 

Paupers, in Narragansett, 313; treatment of, in New England, 324. 

Pawn, 55. 

Pawtucket, cotton thread in, 207. 

Pay, for spinning, 185; for weaving, 230, 250; for cow-herding, 399; of swineherds, 403. 

Peabody, Francis, house of, 31. 

Peachy, 163. 

Peas, 145. 

Peel, 67. 

Pegging, 262. 

Pelisses, 295. 

Penn, William, fairs instituted by, 190. 

Pennsylvania, cave-dwellers in, 2; stoves in, 69; squirrels in, 110; wool manufacture in, 190; dress in, 292-293; mail in, 333; post-rider, 335; transportation in, 335-344; roads in, 339; turnpikes in, 349; coaching in, 350-351; metzel-soup in, 419; gardens in, 436-437. 

Peonies, 421. 

Perfumes, in cooking, 152; of old garden flowers, 424; of sweet-scented leaves, 449 _et seq. _

Periagua, 329. 

Perry, 163. 

Peter, Hugh, encourages fisheries, 121. 

Petticoat rebellion, 128. 

Petunias, 428. 

Pews, described, 368 _et seq. _

Pewter, for lamps, 44-45; for utensils, 84-85; on dresser, 68; lids of, 100. 

Phoebe-lamps, 44. 

Philadelphia, early houses in, 15; luxurious dinners in, 160; straw manufacture in, 260; travel from, 347-350; taverns in, 359; cow-herding in, 400-401. 

Pickling, old-time, 152. 

Pierce Garrison House, 26. 

Pierpont, Rev. John, verses of, 306-307. 

Pies, 146. 

Pigeons, plenty of, 110; price of, 110. 

Pilgrims, starvation of, 129. 

Piling-bee, 406. 

Pillions, 331-332. 

Pillory, location of, 367. 

Pinckney, Mrs. , exchange of flowers of, 439. 

Pinehurst, hand-weaving in, 250-251. 

Pine-knots, use of, 32-33. 

Pink, name of vessel, 328. 

Pinks, varieties of, 427. 

Pipe shelves, 68. 

Pipe-tongs, 68-69. 

Pitch-pipes, in meeting, 378. 

Plantain, romance of, 435-436. 

Plate-racks, 68. 

Plate-warmer, 61. 

Plymouth, vacant fields at, 130; sampler at, 266. 

Pokeberry, as dye, 193. 

Pompion. See Pumpkin. 

Pones, 134. 

Pop-corn, 135. 

Poplar wood, use of, 81-82. 

Porcelain. See China. 

Porringers, 85-86. 

Porter's fluid, 45. 

Portsmouth, old house at, 21. 

Portulaca, 429. 

Posnet, 87. 

Possing, of linen, 234. 

Post, first, 332; duties of, 332-333; in Virginia, 333; report about, 333-335. 

Potatoes, in New England, 144; queer modes of cooking, 144-145. See Sweet potatoes. 

Potato-boiler, 57. 

Pot-brakes, 53. 

Pot-clips, 53. 

Pot-crooks, 53. 

Pot-hangers, 53. 

Pothooks, 53. 

Pots, cost of, 56; size of, 56. 

Pound-keepers, 400. 

Powder-horns, 320-321. 

Powdering of hair, 297. 

Powdering tub, 153. 

Power-loom, 230. 

Powhatan, teaches corn-planting, 127. 

Prairie-schooner. See Conestoga wagon. 

Prayers, length of, 376; with the sick, 419. 

Preserving, old-time, 152. 

Printer, dress of, 293. 

Providence, straw manufacture in, 260; restrictions in, 392. 

Psalm-singing, 376 _et seq. _

Puddings, of corn, 135. 

Pudding-time, 104, 160. 

Pue. See Pews. 

Pulling of flax, 168. 

Pulpits, 368, 385. 

Pumpkin, tributes to, 143; modes of cooking, 143; their plenty, 143; shells of, 309. 

Puncheon floor, 6. 

Quakers, dress of, 258, 292. 

Quarels, of glass, 9. 

Quarnes, 133. 

Quiddonies, 152. 

Quills, for weaving, 216; from geese, 259. 

Quilling-wheel, 216, 229. 

Quilts, piecing of, 270-275; materials for, 272-274; patterns for, 272-275; quilting of, 273-274. 

Quince drink, 96. 

Quincy family, fire-buckets of, 18; samplers of, 266-267. 

Quincy, Josiah, quoted, 341-342, 346. 

Raddle, of loom, 219. 

Rag carpet, 239-240. 

Rail-fence, 25. 

Raising, of a house, 408 _et seq. _

Rake. See Raddle. 

Ramsay, quoted, 395-396. 

Randolph, John, quoted, 205. 

Raspberry leaves for tea, 158, 165. 

Rattle-watch, 362. 

Ravel. See Raddle. 

Reading, communal privileges in, 391. 

Recons, 53. 

Reed. See Sley. 

Reed-hook. See Sley-hook. 

Reel, triple, 200. See Clock-reel and Niddy-noddy. 

Revolution, influences towards success, 166-167, 189. 

Rhode Island, stage-coach in, 346. 

Rhode Island College. See Brown University. 

Ribbon-beds, 445. 

Ribbon-grass, 430. 

Ride-and-tie system, 332. 

Rings, wearing of, 297; at funerals, 298. 

Rippling of flax, 168-169; of hemp, 169. 

Rippling-comb, 168; of Egyptians, 178. 

Roasting ears, 134. 

Roasting-kitchens, 65. 

Rock for spinning, in Egypt, 178; in India, 178; in New England, 179. 

Rock-candy, 157. 

Rocking-tree, of loom, 220. 

Rochester, house-raising at, 410. 

Rolliches, 154. 

Rolling-roads, 330. 

Rolling-up a house, 6. 

Roof, of Dutch houses, 10; gambrel, 22. 

Roquelaure, 295. 

Rosselini, quoted, 178. 

Roving, of yarn, 201. 

Rowley, spinning match at, 184. 

Ruffler for flax, 172. 

Rum, manufacture of, 163; in New England, 163; in slave-trade, 163-164; at house-raisings, 410. 

Rush, for scouring, 85. 

Rushlight, 38. 

Rutland, cave-dwellers in, 3. 

Sabba-day house. See Noon-house. 

Sabin Hall, 14. 

Sack, law of sale, 357. 

Sacjes, 386-387. 

Saco, communal privileges in, 390. 

Safeguards, 295. 

Salem, coloring houses at, 23; lobsters at, 117; fisheries at, 121; milk in, 148; sumptuary laws in, 283; taverns at, 356-357; night-watch in, 363; meeting-house in, 364; seats for boys at meeting in, 372; swineherds in, 403. 

Saler, 78. 

Salisbury, meeting-house at, 369. 

Salmon, price in Boston, 123; low regard of, 123; fishing for, 124. 

Salt-cellar, 78-79. 

Salting of fish, 124; of meat, 153. 

Samp, mode of preparing, 131-132, 134; porridge of, 134. 

Samplers, 265-268. 

Samp-mills, 133. 

Samp-mortars, 133. 

Sap-buckets, 112. 

Sap-yoke, 113. 

Sassafras, as dye, 194; for soap, 255. 

Sausages, making of, 154-155. 

Sausage-gun, 154. 

Save-alls, 42. 

Scaffold, name for pulpit, 368. 

Scarne. See Skarne. 

Sconces, 42. 

Scouring-rush, 85. 

Scutching. See Swingling. 

Scythe snathe, 309-312. 

Seal of Germantown, 181. 

Seating the meeting, 370-371. 

Seats, at table, 101; in New England meetings, 369; in Virginia churches, 383-384; in Dutch churches, 386-387. 

Section. See Bout. 

Sedan-chairs, 356. 

Sermons, length of, 376. 

Sewall, Samuel, quoted, 354-356; character of, 418. 

Shad, low regard of, 123-124; price of, 124; fishing for, 124; salting of, 124. 

Shallop, 328. 

Shed, in weaving, 221. 

Sheep, in Massachusetts, 188; laws about, 188, 189; herding of, 409. 

Sheep-folds, 401. 

Sheep-herds, 401. 

Sheep-ranges, 401. 

Shelburne, girls work in, 262. 

Shepster, 187. 

Sherry-vallies, 296. 

Shingles, making of, 316-317. 

Shingle-bolts, 318. 

Shingle-mould, 317. 

Shoe-pegs, 315-316. 

Shuttles, for loom, 224-225. 

Sign-boards, name on, 358-359; historical value of, 359; of Philadelphia, 359; of Baltimore, 359. 

Sigourney, Mrs. , quoted, 277-278. 

Silk-grass, 211. 

Silver, use of, 89-92. 

Skarne, 216-217. 

Skeins, of flax thread, 175. 

Skillet, 50. 

Skilts, 236. 

Slave-kitchen, 54. 

Slave quarters, 14. 

Slavery, in New England, 163; in Virginia, 164. 

Sleds, 343. 

Sleighs, in New York, 355. 

Sley, of loom, 219-220; price of, 224. 

Slice, 67. 

Slippings, of flax thread, 175. 

Smith, John, quoted, 115-116; plants corn, 127; description of first Virginia church, 381-382. 

Smoke-house, 153. 

Smoke-jack, 65. 

Smoking tongs, 68-69. 

Snake-fence, 25. 

Sneak-cups, 106. 

Snow, name of vessel, 328. 

Snowstorm, in New England, 410 _et seq. _

Snuffers, 42. 

Snuffers tray, 42. 

Soap, making of, 253-255. 

Society house, 396. 

Sorrel, as dye, 194. 

South Carolina. See Carolinas. 

Southernwood, 428. 

Spatter-dashes, 296. 

Spelling, varied, of squashes, 144. 

Spenser, quoted, 319. 

Spermaceti, 42. 

Spices, in cooking, 153; ground at home, 158. 

Spice-mills, 158. 

Spice-mortars, 158. 

Spinning, of flax, 174, 230; pay for, 175; in Egypt, 178; in India, 178; in New England, 179-180; in Pennsylvania, 181; in France, 230-231; day's work in, 185; in modern times, 186; of wool, 196-198, 229-230; new materials for, 211; race between weaving and, 228-229; a by-industry, 228. 

Spinning classes, 180. 

Spinning-cup, 174. 

Spinning-jenny, 229. 

Spinning-matches, 184-185. 

Spinning-school, 180, 182. 

Spinning-wheel. See Flax-wheel and Wool-wheel. 

Spinster, legal title of women, 187. 

Splint brooms. See Birch brooms. 

Spool-holder. See Skarne. 

Spoons, use of, 87; material of, 87-88; types of, 89-90. 

Spoon-moulds, 87-88. 

Spoon-racks, 68. 

Spreading of flax, 168. 

Spunks, 50. 

Squadrons, of spinners, 189. 

Squanto, teaches fishing, 117; teaches corn-planting, 130. 

Squashes, varied names of, 144. 

Squirrels, abundance of, 110; premium on, 110. 

Stage-coaches, in Great Britain, 331, 345-346; in America, 345-346. 

Stage-wagon, 345. 

Staircases, 27. 

Standing salt, 78-79. 

Standish, Lorea, sampler of, 266. 

Starting a fire, 48-50. 

Starving times, in Virginia, 127; in New England, 129. 

Staves, 316. 

Stays, 291. 

Steeples, 366. 

Steep-pool, for flax, 169. 

Stepping-stones. See Horse-blocks. 

Stitches, names of, 264-265. 

St. -John's-wort, as dye, 194. 

Stockings, knitting of, 190, 262-263; weaving of, 190. 

Stocks, location of, 367. 

Stone-bee, 407. 

Stone-hauling, 407. 

Stone walls, 407. 

Stoves, first, 69; in Dutch churches, 385. 

Strachey, quoted, 119. 

Strangers, harboring of, forbidden in New England, 393-394. 

Stratford, tithing-man in, 372. 

Straw manufacture, 259-261. 

Streets, condition of, 362; lighting of, 362; washing of, 363. 

Strikes, of flax, 172. 

Striking a light, 47. 

Stump-pulling, 407. 

Sturgeon, great catch of, 120; in New York, 120. 

Substitutes for imported foods, 158-159. 

Succotash, 134. 

Sudbury, tavern at, 357-358. 

Sugar, substitutes for, 110, 111, 147, 157, 158; cutting of, 155-156. 

Sugar-bowls, names for, 106. 

Sugar-cones, 155. 

Sugar-cutters, 155-156. 

Summer-piece, 8. 

Sunday, observance of, by Puritans, 378 _et seq. _; by Rev. John Cotton, 379; by Virginians, 380; by the Dutch, 384; duration of, 379. 

Sun-dials, 299, 442-443; inscriptions on, 443; materials of, 443. 

Suppawn, use of, 133. 

Sweep and mortar mill, 132. 

Sweet potatoes, modes of cooking, 145. 

Swifts, 215-216. 

Swineherds. See Hog-reeves. 

Swingling of flax, 171-172. 

Swingling block, 171. 

Swingling knives, 171, 312. 

Swingle-tree hurds, 172. 

Swingling tow, bonfires of, 177. 

Swing-sign. See Sign-board. 

Table, description of, 76. 

Table-board, 76, 81. 

Table-cloths, 77. 

Tallow, lack of, 34. 

Tambour work, 269. 

Tankards, original meaning, 83; of wood, 83-84; of silver, 99. 

Tapping-gauge, 112. 

Tape-loom, various names of, 225; described, 225-227. 

Tap-room, of Wayside Inn, 357-358. 

Tarboggin. See Chebobbin. 

Tar-making, 33. 

Taste of a dinner, 418. 

Tasters, 86-87. 

Taverns, establishment of, 356; titles for, 356; prices at, 357; values about, 357; names of rooms at, 357; in southern colonies, 360; in New Netherland, 361. 

Tea, substitutes for, 158-159; first sales of, 164; queer mode of cooking, 165. 

Teazels, 232. 

Teazeling, of cloth, 232. 

Temperature, of houses, 70-71; of churches, 374. 

Temple, of loom, 223. 

Tennessee, hand-weaving in, 249. 

Tenting, of cloth, 232. 

Terbobbin. See Chebobbin. 

Terrapin, 120. 

Thatch, for roofs, 15. 

Threshing, 313-314. 

Thumbing, in weaving, 218. 

Thumb-rings, 298. 

Tin, slight use of, 58. 

Tinder, 48. 

Tinder-box, 48. 

Tinder-mill, 50. 

Tinder-wheel, 49. 

Tithing-men, 372, 373. 

Titles, old-time, for women, 187. 

Toasting-forks, 60. 

Tobacco, as currency, 189; use forbidden near meeting-house, 379. 

Tomble. See Temple. 

Tongs, 236. 

Tow, garments of, 235-236. 

Town, unit in New England, 390; narrow feeling of, 391. 

Townsend, revolutionary story of, 203. 

Toys, of wood, 306. 

Trammels, 53. 

Transportation, on horseback, 176, 336 _et seq. _; by wagons, 339 _et seq. _

Trees, girdling of, 403; drive of, 404; under-cutting of, 404. 

Trenchers, description, 80; material, 82. 

Trivets, 60. 

Troughs, making of, 311. 

Trumbull, Jonathan, chaise of, 353. 

Trunks, 348. 

Trunk pedler, 300. 

Tumble. See Temple. 

Tummings, 195. 

Turkeys, wild, 109; size of, 109-110; price of, 110. 

Turkey wheat, 129. See Corn. 

Turkey-wings, 309. 

Turnips, 145. 

Turnpikes, 349-350. 

Turnspit dog, 65. 

Tusser, Thomas, quoted, 35, 168, 255, 321-322. 

Twifflers, 106. 

Van der Donck, quoted, 118, 119, 120. 

Van Tienhoven, quoted, 2. 

Veils, interference about, 285. 

Venison. See Deer. 

Vermont, candle-wood in, 32; broom-making in, 303. 

Victualling, name for tavern, 356. 

Violins, in meeting, 378. 

Virginia, early houses in, 11; palisados in, 24; candle-wood in, 32; first fork in, 78; silver in, 91; table furnishings in, 104; deer in, 108-109; birds and fowl in, 110; lobsters in, 118; crabs in, 118; oysters in, 119; plenty of fish in, 118-119; corn in, 127; massacre in, 127; windmills in, 133; toll in, 133; starvation in, 127, 144; pumpkins in, 143; locust groves in, 163; flax culture in, 181-182; wool culture in, 189-190; cloths in, 237; broom-corn in, 256; sumptuary laws in, 285; outfit of settlers, 289; roads in, 331; taverns in, 361; Sunday observance in, 380; churches in, 381-382; cows in, 400; fences in, 402. 

Virginia fence, 25. 

Voiders, 106-107. 

Voorleezer, duties of, 386. 

Waffle-irons, 61. 

Wagon. See Conestoga wagon. 

Warming-pans, 72. 

Warning out, 392; a mystery in, 393. 

Warp, 218. 

Warp-beam, 214. 

Warping, 217-218. 

Warping-bars, 217-218. 

Warping-needle, 219. 

Warp-threads. See Warp. 

Washing, domestic, 255. 

Washington, George, home of, 13; outfit of his stepdaughter, 291; dress of, 293; as canal promoter, 353. 

Washington, Martha, thrift of, 237-238; netting of, 265. 

Watches, 299. 

Watch-chains, 263. 

Water, as beverage, 147. 

Watering of flax, 169. 

Water-fowl, plenty of, 125; enumerated, 125. 

Watertown, windmill at, 133; restrictions of settlement in, 393. 

Wax, candles of, 37; bayberry, 39-40. 

Waynesville, hand-weaving in, 250. 

Wayside Inn, 357-358. 

Weather-skirt, 295. 

Weavers, status of, 212-213; seat of, 221; working-hours of, 228; in Narragansett, 241-244. 

Weaving, noise of, 212, 220; three motions in, 221-222; disappearance of, 227; on tape-looms, 225-227; race between spinning and, 228-230; of linens, 230-231; of rag carpet, 239-240; of coverlets, 242-246; during Civil War, 249. See Loom. 

Weaving-room. See Loom-room. 

Webster, 187. 

Weeds, once garden flowers, 435-436, 447-449. 

Weight-timbers, 11. 

Weld, quoted, 348-349. 

Well-sweep, 443-444. 

Westmoreland Revival, 227. 

Whale-fishing, 41. 

"Whang, " 417. 

Wheat, planting of, 147. 

Wheel. See Flax-wheel and Wool-wheel. 

Wheel-peg, 198. 

Wheelwrights, early use of wood, 176. 

Whipping-post, location of, 367. 

White-Ellery House, 19. 

Whiteweed, in America, 449. 

Whitney, Eli, invention of, 208. 

Whittemore, Amos, invention of, 205. 

Whittier, quoted, 73-74, 181, 370, 413, 436; homespun attire of, 248. 

Whittling, 321-323. 

Wicks for candles, 34, 45. 

Wigs, wearing of, 296-297; denounced, 296; names of, 296-299; cost of, 297. 

Wigwams, 3. 

William and Mary College, tax for, 109. 

Williams, Roger, quoted, 134, 137, 285. 

Windmills, Indian fear of, 130; first erected, 133; of John Winthrop, 133; in Virginia, 133. 

Windows, of glass, 23; of oiled paper, 23. 

Windsor, boys' pews in, 372. 

Wine-taster, 87. 

Winslow house, knocker of, 29. 

Winthrop, John, fork of, 77; jug of, 98; his use of water as beverage, 148; pick-a-back, 329; sedan-chair of, 356. 

Winthrop, John, Jr. , quoted, 32; mill of, 133. 

Woad-wax, in Massachusetts, 448. 

Woburn, long services at, 376. 

Wolfskin bags in meeting, 374. 

Wolves' heads, nailed on meeting-houses, 364-365. 

Wood, trenchers of, 80-81; utensils of, 82; spoons of, 88; for shuttles, 225; unusual uses of, 305; toys of, 306; natural shapes in, 308-311. 

Wood, quoted, 32-33, 137. 

Wool, an ancient industry, 187; early culture of, 187-193; manufacture of, 187-193; restraints on manufacture, 191-192; in England, 192; preparation of, 193; dyeing of, 193-194; carding of, 194-195; combing of, 196; spinning of, 196-198. See Yarn. 

Wool-cards, described, 194-195; history of, 204-206. 

Wool-combs, 196. 

Wool-wheel, price of, 177. 

Wordsworth, quoted, on spinning, 179. 

Worsted stuffs, 233. 

Wrathe. See Raddle. 

Yarn, spinning of, 197-198, 201, 229; winding of, 198; skeining of, 199; cleansing of, 202; water-twist, 229. 

Yarn beam. See Warp-beam. 

Yarn roll. See Warp-beam.