[Read before the
Medford Historical Society, April 18, 1904.]
I. Meeting house brook.
THERE'S a little valley you reach going westward as High street curves and dips beyond Winthrop square. Just before it goes up Marm Simonds' hill the road passes over a brook—the brook of all the brooks of
Medford.
Did you ever stand here on a June morning and look across the meadow to the north and watch this brook come sparkling from out the distant foliage like a silver line through billowy grasses and nodding daisy blossoms?
And turning to look southward follow its course through the marshes and to the river; then you notice on a near-by tree a tablet that marks the site of the second meeting-house.
You may have passed this spot many times in the modern electric car, but only by the ‘old-fashioned’ way of walking and loitering along here will a picture of the early years of
Medford's history present itself.
You will even need to get acquainted with the brook itself—see it in its varied moods, inquire into its mysteries, follow it as though you walked with a friend, and then it will tell you that the old meeting-house and this brook were companions for many years; that no one is now living of all who loved the sacred spot; that the name lives forever in ‘
Meeinghouse brook.’
But what of the brook?
Whence does it come?
Two miles or so to the north from out what was once known as Turkey Swamp, but now the Winchester Reservoir, [p. 74] it finds its way southerly down the woodlands past old gray rocks that throw dark shadows in its pools; sometimes it gurgles over the stones and then is silent among clumps of brake and fern and masses of jewel-weed.
The Canada lilies swing their bells along its course.
It winds down a narrow dell where its waters once, held at flood, turned the wheel of Captain Marble's mill (formerly it was called Marble brook). A high bank and heap of stones mark the spot, and there the fringed orchid waves its plume.
It flows under bridges shaded by willows, through beds of mint; and the monkey-flower in midsummer and the flaming cardinal flower in August love the cool water.
Then it swings around and passes south-easterly under a stone wall out into the orchard of General Lawrence's farm.
Here it forms three levels, being dammed with large blocks of granite, making a miniature sea,—a delight to the children,—for here they wade and sail their boats.
Now it quickens pace and passes under a small stone bridge at Winthrop street, where the white flowers of the turtle-head guard the archway; swings around past the place where John Albree once held its waters back to run his grist-mill, and like an arrow crosses the meadow, flows under the roadway near site of the second meeting-house, and wends its way to the river.
A part of this old Woburn road, now High street, just by the bridge led down through the brook, where horses and cattle travelling along the road could stop and drink.
It is just here that I must show you a picture of a Sabbath morning in the summer of 1730.
Across the meadows and at the scattered houses the first roll of the drum is heard reminding the people of the hour for public worship.
A hundred years have passed since Gov. Cradock's colony came up the Mystic.
The settlement at Medford has been augmented by many new-comers.
Their lands stretch along the river.
Clearings have been made, houses built, trees planted.
At the bend of the road east of the Meeting-house [p. 75] stands the parsonage occupied by Rev. Ebenezer Turrell.
His wife, young and fair, is just adjusting the bands at the neck of his gown when the last call for worship sounds.
Old and young, on horseback and afoot, are passing.
A young man and maid loiter on the bridge over the brook.
In these days the weekly assembling at the meeting-house for worship gives also the opportunity to learn of each other's welfare, for many of their homes are far apart and the busy daily life forbids much intercourse.
Within, the meeting-house is plain, with high pulpit and sounding-board, and a gallery at the end opposite.
The people sit upon uncushioned seats.
Toward the front, a few pews, square enclosures, nun-like pens, with seats around three sides and a door opening into the aisle, contain the deacons or some prominent citizens and their families.
The service is long—the sermon of extraordinary length.
It is unnecessary that I give you more than this simple outline in words.
The memories of many here reach back to earlier days and ways; and, nature-born, you have received from worthy ancestors those things that make you somewhat familiar with that period in Medford's history.
I cannot better express the thoughts that have come to me, as I have sauntered up and down this brook and loitered near the sight of the old Meeting-house and reflected, studied and pencilled at intervals during some three years than to show you this result, and then proceed in detail to give you an account of the building and carrying on of the Second Meeting-house.
The first meeting-house of
Medford, built in 1696 ‘on a rock on the north side of Woburn road’ (the site familiarly known at the top of Marm Simonds' hill) had accommodated the people for twenty years, when in June, 1716, it was considered inadequate to meet the needs of the increasing population.
Seven prominent
[p. 76] citizens headed by
Deacon Thomas Willis were chosen to ascertain ‘whether it was best to build a new meeting-house or to enlarge the old.’
On July 19, 1716, at an adjourned town-meeting, this committee reported their decision that a new meeting-house should be built, to be 50 feet long, 38 feet broad and 27 feet stud, and to cost £ 450. Nearly three years elapsed before action was taken on this committee's report and then (February 9, 1719) it was voted down.
Another year went by and this time (March 7, 1720) the town sought advice from neighboring citizens, asking that ‘five gentlemen be chosen from neighboring towns to give their advice whether it will be most convenient for the town at present to build a new meeting-house or enlarge the old one.’
One week later the question was raised in the adjourned town-meeting as to whether the town was going to abide by and rest satisfied with the determination of this committee, and this was given an affirmative vote; and within two (2) months came a vote of the town refusing to raise
any money for erecting a new meeting-house.
The Committee of Five from neighboring towns considered the matter until February 20, 1721, when evidently they rendered a report favorable to a new meeting-house; but the town refused to accept the result of the committee's work, thereby going back upon the vote of the year before.
This aroused a protest, signed by twenty citizens of the western section, dissenting from this vote of refusal to accept the committee's report, as illegal.
The signers also affirmed that they had been to some considerable trouble to procure land and remove encumbrances in view of a proposed new meeting-house.
It was then midsummer of the year 1722, and the honored Committee of Five whose favorable report for a new meeting-house had not been accepted, now found the town ready to reconsider and to accept their report.
Which action immediately stirred up the people of the eastern end, who dissented from such a vote and brought [p. 77] in a petition signed by fourteen citizens giving the reasons, first, ‘that it was wholly contrary to the warrant granted for town-meeting,’ and, second, ‘that it was contrary to a former vote of the town.’
These differences and prejudices aroused throughout the town seem to have undergone a mollifying process during some three years before the subject of the new meeting-house was revived.
A piece of land belonging to John Bradshaw was selected as an available spot for building upon, but no money could be raised for the purpose by the town.
Almost ten years had gone by, and the capacity of the old house must have been taxed to its utmost.
On January 10th and later on, the 24th of January, 1726, in two town-meetings, the whole matter was definitely settled by the town purchasing of Mr. John Albree land adjoining Marble brook (Marrbelle brook in Town Records) for £ 55 for one acre, and deciding to build a new meeting-house thereon.
A building committee of eleven men, whose names were important ones in the town's history, were chosen to attend to the matter.
Thomas Tufts, Esq., Capt. Ebenezer Brooks, Peter Seccombe, John Richardson, Capt. Samuel Brooks, John Willis, William Willis, Lieut. Stephen Hall, John Francis, Benjamin Parker and John Whitmore.
These reported that it would be proper to build a meetinghouse 52 feet large, 38feet wide, 33feel posts. They were empowered to build the house.
Thenceforth the town was concerned with the detail of the building and the raising of necessary money, as notice the following votes:—
March 7, 1726.—‘Voted to have a steeple.’
April 25, 1726.—‘Voted to raise £ 250 for carrying on work of meeting-house.’
May 8, 1727.—‘Voted to raise money on places left for pews in new meeting-house.’
August 27, 1727.—‘Voted that the Town will pay for the building of a ministerial pew in the new meeting house in the place where the Rev. Mr. Turrell shall choose.’
[p. 80] of worship Rev. Mr. Turrell served as the pastor.
More than five thousand sermons were preached here and over one thousand persons received baptism.
When we think of such a record as that we can imagine how sacred the spot was to more than a generation.
My account has been almost wholly drawn from the early records of the town.
A glimpse of Mr. Turrell's ministry was given in an able paper upon the ‘Early Ministers of Medford’ by Rev. H. C. Delong, in 1899, and is published in our Register.
The farewell service took place on March 4, 1770. Another meeting-house, some distance away to the east on the northerly side of this same road had been built, larger and better suited to the needs of that day. To this the people moved, and when Paul Revere rode through Medford some five years later on that thrilling April night (just 129 years ago) he passed this Third Meeting-house, tall and imposing in the moonlight, and pressing westward along High street crossed the wooden bridge over Meeting-house brook.
The hurrying hoofs awoke no echoes from the old meeting-house, for long ago it had been removed, having been sold at auction August 7, 1770, to Mr. John Laith for, £ 24 (O. T.); its underpinning to Mr. Benjamin Hall for £ 13, 6s. 8d., in April 1771.
The land whereon it stood was bought by Mr. Ebenezer Hall, Jr., for £ 197 (O. T.) The bell had been removed in January, 1770, to the Third Meetinghouse.
I have given you very little that is new or in any wise original.
I have sought simply to dress up the old records; to keep in the line of truth, and present a pleasant picture by word and brush of those days when Medford was young and provided a sure, though movable, foundation for the things of the kingdom of God, of which we all are inheritors.
[p. 81]
Andrew Hall, Esq. His widow's dower set off.1
ANDREW Hall was the second son who lived to maturity of John Hall of
Medford and Jemima Syll of
Cambridge; he was born in
Medford, May 5, 1698.
When he was twenty-one, his father died, and he faced the world with little capital beside strong hands and active brain.
His father had occupied a high position in the town, but when Andrew's name appears on the records it is dignified with no title, though soon he was called Mr. and later Esquire.
The oldest son, John, was a distiller, succeeding his father.
In 1735, Andrew bought out his brother and took possession of the distillery and wharves used in connection with the business.
In addition to distilling he established a carrying trade by boat from Medford to Boston, made his own barrels and owned a slaughter house within a few rods of the ‘Great [Cradock] Bridge.’
In partnership with Benjamin Willis he bought almost the whole of the Jonathan Wade estate, including the ‘Garrison House,’ as we call the Wade homestead.
This land, which extended back from High street, following the line of Brooks Lane [Brooks Lane proper, Bradlee Road, Porter Road and Governor's Avenue] was bought in small shares from the husbands of Jonathan Wade's daughters.
Willis sold most of his share in various parcels to Andrew Hall or his heirs, until eventually nearly all the orginal purchase was owned by the Hall family.
The homestead mentioned in the following inventory is standing [1904] and is numbered forty-three High street; the barn was on the opposite side of the road, occupying part of the lot now covered by Page and Curtin's establishment.
The ‘large brick house’ was the Garrison House.
The house ‘occupied by Richard Hall’ stands at the westerly corner of Governor's avenue.
[p. 82]
The ‘Turkey Swamp’ district is now included in the Winchester Reservoir.
Andrew Hall died June 24, 1750, and left no will.
His estate was not divided until 1769, soon after his youngest son, Ebenezer, reached his majority.
Pursuant to a Warrant recd from the Honble
Samuel Danforth Esqr
Judge of Probate for wills in the
County of Middlesex dated the seventeenth day of October A. D. 1769.
wherein we the Subscribers were appointed & empowered to take an Inventory of & to apprize all the
real estate whereof
Andrew Hall Esqr late of
Medford deceased died seized of &c in observance of your Honrs Warrant we have taken an Inventory of & apprized sd estate as followeth Viz:
An Inventory of Andrew Hall Esqrs Estate. —Novm 9, 1769.
| To 1 Still-House Cysterns Tubbs Well & Pump | £ 133: | 6: | 8 |
| To 1 large Still wt 1120 @ 2/8 Pr pound | 149: | 6: | 8 |
| To 1 large Worm wt 900 @ 1/4 Pr pound | 46: | 13: | 4 |
| To 1 small Still wt 340 @ 1 1/10 Pr pound | 31: | 17: | 6 |
| To 1 small Worm wt 112 @ 1/4 Pr pound | 7: | 9: | 4 |
| To Wharfe & Warehouse from Road to the River | 155: | 0: | 0 |
| To the most easterly Wharfe | 60: | 0: | 0 |
| To the most westerly Wharfe below the Bridge with a Warehouse Coopers Shop Slaughter-House & land adjoining | 260: | 0: | 0 |
| To a dwelling House Shop & Land adjoining bounded on Stephen Halls Land occupied by Richard Hall | 226 |
| To dwelling house & shop with the land adjoining where Mr Secombs house now stands | 200: |
| To dwelling house & barn with land adjoining now in the occupation of the widow | 400: |
| To large brick house & barn 1/2 acre land | 90: |
| To two pieces of mowing land about 3 acres lately improved by the deceased | 60: |
| To 25 acres of pasture & tillage land @ £ 10 Pr acre | 250: |
| To 12 acres pasture land formerly John Hall's land @ £ 4: 10 Pr acre | 54: |
| To 25 acres pasture land @ £ 4 Pr acre | 100: |
| To Half 23 acres pasture land with Benja Willis @ £ 5 Pr acre | 59: | 10: |
[p. 83]
| To a wood lott known by the name of Call's Lott containing 5 acres @ 16s Pr acre | 4: |
| To a wood lott known by the name of Gerrish Lott containing 12 & 1/2 acres @ 48s Pr acre | 30: |
| To wood lott by the name of Turkey Swamp 10 1/2 acres or the half of twenty acres @ 48s | 25: | 4: | 0 |
| To wood-lott bounds on Jona Hall's land easterly & westerly on Woburn Line or Range Line—in partnership with Stephen Hall junr one half of twelve acres @ 40s Pr acre | 12: |
| To dwelling house & ware-house at Boston with the land adjoining late improved by the deceased's son Andrew | 500: |
| To house lott joining to Beacon Hill formerly boundd south on Joseph Bradford westerly on Deac Tay decd northly on middlecot & easterly on middlecot street so-called | 20: |
| To Half a wood lott called Atwood Lott in partnership with Stephen Hall junr about 21 1/2 acres @ 60s pr acre | 3: | 10: |
| —— | — | — |
| Carried Over | 2883: | 17: | 6 |
| Brought Over | £ 2883: | 17: | 6 |
| To one or two Rights in Narraganset Township | 26: | 13: | 4 |
| —— | — | — |
| The whole amount of the real estate is | £ 2910: | 10: | 10 |
Pursuant to your Honrs Comission to us directed we have proceeded to set off for the Widow of the deceased her Dower, viz:— The dwelling house & barn together with about one half acre of land adjoining the premisses boundd as followeth viz the land belonging to the house southerly on the country road leading to Medford Bridge westerly on Henry Fowls land easterly partly on Thos Secomb & Joseph Thompson northerly on Thos Secomb's land the land belonging to the barn as followeth westerly on land belonging to one Sheed northerly on the road aforesd easterly partly on Mr. Secomb & partly on John Waide and southerly on Medford River allso a house plat in Boston in the County of Suffolk near Beacon Hill & near Cambridge Street boundd southerly on land of Joseph Bradford there measuring ninety-one feet westerly on land of Deacon Isaiah Tay decd thirty-six feet and half northerly on land of Edward Middlecot measuring ninety-seven feet easterly on Middlecot Street so called measuring thirty-seven feet and three quarters of a foot be the same more or less or however otherwise bounded or reputed to be bounded.
[p. 84]
| The dwelling house with the barn and land on the other side set off for the widow's dower we apprized @ | £ 400: |
| The other land at Boston set off for the same purpose—we apprized @ | 20: |
| —— |
| £ 420: |
I accept of Doings of the above named Commissrs in setting off to the widow of
Andrew Hall Esqr deceased—her Dower & order the same to be recorded
After Abigail Hall's death in 1785, Oliver Prescott, Judge of Probate, assigned the dower set off to her son Benjamin2, in consideration of £ 720; which, after deducting his own share, was to be paid to his brothers and sisters or their heirs, as follows: Andrew3 (eldest son) £158.19.345, Isaac6, Richard7, Ebenezer8 Josiah9 and James10, each £79.9.71112; Sarah13, £54.6.51415; Anna16, £29.1.21718. Abigail,19 for reasons mentioned in the following document, received nothing in this division; and Sarah and [p. 85] the heirs of Anna, because these daughters had been given money while their father was alive, received less than the sons.
Middlesex ss. To all People unto whom these Presents shall come,
Oliver Prescott Esq;
Judge of the Probate of
Wills &c in the
County of Middlesex within the
Commonwealth of Massachusetts, sendeth Greeting. * * * * I do hereby order and assign unto Benjamin Hall Esq., a son of Andrew Hall late of
Medford in the
County aforesaid,
Esq, deceased, intestate—all those Pieces and Parcels of Land, with the
Buildings and Appurtenances thereon and thereunto belonging, being that part of the
Real Estate of said Intestate which was set off to Abigail his widow, for her dower and has reverted by her death * * * * *
Accordingly I order the before named Assignee Benjamin his Heirs, &c in the first Place to pay and clear the Charges relating to this Settlement, amounting in the whole to Forty Nine shillings & four pence—Then to pay to his brother Andrew One Hundred & Fifty Eight Pounds 19s 3 3/5 & to each of his brothers Isaac, Richard, Ebenezer, Josiah and James, the sum of Seventy Nine Pounds 9s 7 4/5, & to his sister Sarah Fifty Four Pounds Six Shillings & 5 4/5 pence, & to his sister Anna Twenty Nine Pounds 1s 2 4/5 pence; or to pay these several sums to the persons who may legally represent those to whom they are respectively assigned.
And these payments have his own share, and also the sum of Sixty Eight Pounds five shillings & nine pence, which is the balance of his account of Administration on said Deceased's widow Abigail Hall's Estate, & for her support & burial, which account is this day allowed & which I hereby order him to pay in like Money, Manner, and with the Interest before-mentioned.
All which aforesaid Sums, with the Share of said Assignee, amount to the apprized value of the Dower and (together with what was advanced by the said deceased in his Life-Time to Sarah & Anna to £ 865. 11. 7) to make each Child's Share therein to be agreeable to the Direction of the Law; Abigail having in her father's lifetime recd £ 192. 19. 7 which is more than her share.
In Testimony whereof I have hereunto set my Hand and Seal of the Probate Office this fourth day of May in the Year of our Lord One Thousand Seven Hundred and Eighty-Six
[p. 86]
Strangers in Medford, (continued from Vol. 4, no. 3).
| Names. | From.
Date. | Warned out. | Remarks. |
| Jones, Rebecca | | Dec. 24, 1755 | In family of Benj. Hall. |
| Jones, Capt. William | Holliston, Apr. 24, 1762 | Jan. 1, 1763 | Tavern keeper, Tenant of Col. Royall. |
| Sarah (wife) |
| Katharine Children |
| Abigail |
| Sarah |
| Frances |
| Ezra |
| William |
| Jesse |
| Kemp, Amasa | Groton, August 1765 | Feb. 24, 1766 |
| Kendall, Jesse | Woburn, Apr. 11, 1754 | | Son of Samuel Kendall. |
| wife and two child'n |
| Kendall, Joseph | | Jan. 30, 1791 | Laborer. |
| Killerin, Anna | Boston, Aug. 18, 1761 | May 14, 1762 | Age 4 yrs. Anna or Ann. Boarder in family of Jacob Hall. |
| Knowland, Patrick | | 1735 |
| Lampson,20 David | Cambridge, Apr. 1, 1765 | Feb. 24, 1766 | In family of Samuel Tufts jr. |
| Lampson, Martha | Ipswich, Nov. 19, 1761 | | Single woman in family of William Bradshaw. |
| Lawrence, Anna | Lexington, May 15, 1764 | Mar. 1, 1765 | In family of Aaron Hall.
Servant in family of Hugh |
| Lawrence, Lydia | Woburn | | Floyd, and of Dr. Simon Tufts, 1765. |
[p. 87]
| Lealand, Amariah | Sherborn, April, 1758 | Nov. 27, 1758 | ‘Taken in’ by Col. I. Royall. |
| Ursula (wife) |
| Abner Children |
| Jesse |
| Ebenezer |
| Ezra |
| Sibyl |
| Elizabeth |
| Cloe |
| Abigail |
| Rhoda |
| Learned, Thomas | | Jan. 30, 1791 | Clock-maker. |
| Leech, Hannah | Reading,21 Apr. 25, 1759 | Feb. 25, 1760 | In house of Simon Tufts.
Single woman. |
| Leech, Hannah | Reading, Nov. 29, 1773 | | Single woman in family of Stephen Hall. |
| Lewis,22 John | Chelsea, Apr. 10, 1765 | Feb. 24, 1766 | In family of Simon Tufts. |
| Lewes, Mary Lilly, (widow) | Chelsea, June 7, 1759 | Nov. 21, 1735 1759 | Maid in family of John Bishop. |
| Livermore, Elizabeth | Cambridge, Aug. 25, 1759 | | Single.
Housekeeper in family of Isaac Warren. |
| Livingstone, John | | Aug. 31, 1797 |
| Lock, Abigail | Boston, Apr. 10, 1762 | | Maid in family of Stephn Bradshaw. |
| Lowder, William | | Aug. 31, 1797 |
| Lunno, David and wife | | Dec. Ct. 1759 |
[p. 88]
Edited by Emma Wild Goodwin.
My Dear daughter Emma:—I'm going to write you as near as I can the particulars of the expedition to
Goldsboro.
We started on Thursday morning, December 11 (along the
Trent road), about 7 o'clock, and marched over to our parade ground and stood there until noon in a most intense fog. It was so thick that we could n't see a man to tell who he was twenty feet from us, till 10 o'clock, so we could n't see the other troops pass off. It was said that there were about twenty thousand in our army.
We had the second post of honor of the whole army, on the extreme left.
But I don't think much of that post of honor.
The army was about seven miles long, and we in the rear of them—baggage wagons and all. We acted as rear guard until we got to the place called
Whitehall.
Then we passed the whole and it brought us in front at the battle of Everett's Mills, near
Goldsboro.
There we saw the sights and saw the rebels cut down like grass before the scythe, by the artillery which we were supporting.
But we had no opportunity to fire at them, and the artillery did the work at a distance.
We marched the first day about eight miles and did not arrive in camp until 3 o'clock in the morning.
We marched through mud and water, and the teams would get stuck, and we had to stay behind, and could not advance at all.
We finally went into a cornfield to sleep a few hours, but I did not like the accommodations, so Corporal Page of the Danvers company and I went in search of something better.
We found a corn barn near by and went in and laid down, but before we got to sleep we had some company from ours and other companies.
But their noise did not disturb us much.
You may wonder why I took a corporal from another company.
I went [p. 89] as a color guard this time, as Everett Newhall was sick, and I was detailed for that place.
I did the best I could.
It proved to be the easiest berth in the company, as I had no other duties to perform.
My duty was to take care of the colors, or rather, my part of it. I did not leave them from the time we started till we returned.
Friday, December 12, we took up a march at half-past 7, and marched until ten at night, then went into another cornfield, and rather low ground I thought.
There was a house near by and a lot of board fences, which the boys stripped very soon, I assure you. The colonel stopped all the boys from going into the buildings.
I told Corporal Page to hold on a minute till the colonel had gone into the house.
As soon as he went we started and went into a cook house, and there we found two bedsteads, and both had beds on them.
We got in just before the guard was put on. After we got into the house four or five men came in.
In a few moments in came an officer and drove them all out, as he thought.
I whispered to Page to keep still.
All the rest of them went out, but we went to bed. In about fifteen minutes in came nine or ten officers, and we were snug in bed, and there we stayed.
They built up a great fire and we slept as comfortably as we should at home.
Page said ‘bully for me.’
I told him all it wanted was a little cheek, and that is what everyone must have in order to live on such expeditions.
I think we marched about fourteen miles that day. The thirteenth we took up our march about 7 o'clock, and marched till 12 at night.
In the course of the day the teams got stuck, and it made it very slow marching.
They had to unload some of their stores and gave them out to the men, and such scrabbling you never saw!
You would think it was gold dust, or that they were starved to death.
As I lodged in the house, I did n't get any. I got some bread, as there was not so much of a rush around the bread as around the sugar.
It was quite a sight to see men fight for a cupful of sugar.
But [p. 90] I had some of the sugar, for Corporal Page stepped ahead and got nearly a quart.
We chummed together during the march.
What he had I had. He had some ‘cheek,’ as well as myself.
Foraging was forbidden except when detailed.
Some did, however, but as I was color guard, I could not leave.
I think there were not many places but what were pretty well ransacked.
The cavalry and artillery took all the horses and mules with them.
We went into camp about ten, in the woods.
Weather quite warm.
We scraped up some leaves and made up a bed, and slept first rate.
December 14, Sunday, we took up a march about ten, and marched out of the woods, and there halted for orders, as the head of the army was about five miles ahead at Kingston, fighting.
Our regiment was detailed to go on picket duty by companies.
There was a church there, and the colonel took it for headquarters.
So the colors had to stay there with him, and we had a day of rest in the ‘church,’ as it was called.
It was about fifty feet long by thirty wide.
There was no finish about it. The pulpit was nearly in the centre, and a partition across it. Back of the pulpit was for the colored people.
They had a stand-up seat in front.
There were some seats, or benches, just as you choose to call them.
It was never painted outside.
It had three doors for the white people and one for the colored.
It stood in a bend of the road in the woods.
The place was called Warrenton, so a prisoner told me whom we had there all day. I think he had not been to church for some time, although he was taken about a mile from there.
He said he owned a farm and two slaves.
I asked him what denomination worshipped there, and he said he believed it was ‘Missionary.’
He did n't pretend to know much, but I think he knew more than he cared to have known.
We kept him until we got to our journey's end, and then let him go. During the day we had a battle at Kingston.
There were quite a number killed.
As near as I can find out there were [p. 91] forty killed and one hundred and fifty wounded. I saw some dead and wounded when we passed the next morning.
Our army took the place and burnt the bridge.
We privates in the ranks can't tell much about it. There are a thousand stories afloat.
I suppose you will get the particulars before I do.
The color bearers and guards slept that night in the church with the officers.
Colonel Pierson found us with coffee.
The prisoner stayed in the church all day, but when night came, he was put out of doors to sleep under guard, on the ground.
There were none of our regiment in that battle, although two companies were ordered into Kingston Sunday night, to do guard duty.
The weather all day Sunday was very fine and warm.
The fifteenth, Monday, we marched twenty miles. We marched down toward Kingston about five miles, but left it on our right, so we did not see the place.
I understand that some of our soldiers found some things of value in Kingston.
One man found one hundred silver dollars, others, watches and silverware.
We marched until 9 o'clock, then camped in a cornfield.
When we got up the ground was frozen.
Not much of any account happened that day. Tuesday, the sixteenth, we marched toward Whitehall.
Very soon we heard the guns.
We kept on until we nearly reached the battlefield, and then had orders to halt.
We saw the ambulance teams with the wounded while stopping.
We halted about one-half hour.
A good many were wounded there.
The rebs were in the woods so we could not see them.
It was said that we did n't see a man, but the bullets flew thick and fast.
Our army kept up a brisk fire for five or six hours, and we were too much for them.
The rebs were up in trees as sharp-shooters.
Finally the infantry was ordered into the woods to drive them out.
Two of our regiment were wounded while passing up the road, and I had one ball pass directly over me. At that place our brigade passed, and we came in at the [p. 92] head of the olumn and marched u toward Whitehall and went into camp about 9 o'clock, in a cornfield, as usual.
The ground was frozen, so Page and I went off to see if we could find a shelter, but could not. I found some boards and brought them to the field, and we laid our blankets on them and went to sleep.
On Wednesday, the seventeenth we took up our march through a thick wood.
At noon an officer came back and said there were three regiments of rebels in a field ahead of us. The cavalry and artillery went ahead and we were ordered to close up in our places.
The batteries were placed in position, and as the fifth was on the left, it brought us into the woods, when we formed in line of battle.
Our brigade burnt the railroad bridge and tore up about five miles of track, burnt the sleepers, and spoilt the rails.
Then all was quiet for awhile.
Then we were ordered to retreat.
General Foster said he had accomplished all he intended.
We gave three cheers for General Foster, and three for his staff, and started.
Being at the left we were behind, except the batteries and cavalry.
All at once we heard cheering.
Colonel Pearson ordered us to halt.
All but the fifth and third regiments had crossed a small brook.
It rather astonished us all. All the batteries had gone except two pieces.
General Lee was sent for. Some said it was our troops.
I stepped out of the ranks near the batteries and just then discovered a flag.
Said I, ‘That's none of our folks, there's a secesh flag.’
The captain of the battery looked and said, ‘Yes, give them some, boys.’
Then our brigade was ordered back to support the two guns.
The captain of the battery asked ‘What regiment is this?’
One hundred voices cried out ‘Fifth Massachusetts.’
He said ‘Good.
You can support us.’
The third regiment was behind us on our right, and some other regiment was on the left.
They fired the battery twice and the shot went over.
Then the captain said, ‘Let me range that.
Put in a double head of [p. 93] canister.’
He did, and I should think he mowed down a hundred or more.
It cut the flag.
He ranged it again with as good success as before.
He said, ‘That's the way to give them some,’ and you never saw a flock of sheep scatter mote than they did. About that time a battery opened upon us. The colonel ordered us to lie down, then one of our batteries opened fire and they exchanged a number of shots.
I recollected what General Lawrence told me. He said when I heard a shot coming to lie close to the ground, and I did so, but as soon as it passed, my head was up. Being near the centre of the regiment I could see, and we could hear them.
The batteries over the other side of the brook kept up a rapid firing.
The two guns in front of us fired every cartridge they had. We did not fire a gun. The third regiment fired, but what at I could not see. The rebels retreated and burned a bridge to stop our following them.
They were from South Carolina, the fighting men you know.
They meant to play a shrewd game on us. They came out on our right to attract our attention, while others planned to go round and surround us, as all the troops had gone but our brigade, but they missed it. They opened a dam and raised the water in the brook some three feet before we got over it. We stayed there about an hour and waded up to our waists through the brook.
The water rose eight feet in half an hour.
We halted as soon as we got over for the other regiment to form.
Some one went down to the brook, and it was four times as wide as when we crossed.
There were between three and four thousand rebels in the woods.
I did not consider myself in any danger till the batteries opened fire upon us upon the right.
After we got straightened out again, we marched back about five miles and went into camp in a cornfield about midnight.
We made fires and dried our clothes and then went to sleep.
Thursday, the eighteenth, we again came in the rear of the army and did not get into camp till 2 o'clock [p. 94] A. M. We were six hours going two miles, through a swamp, and when we got out we went almost double quick.
It was dark, and when we went into camp there were but nine men. One of the color bearers gave out, so Corporal Page took the colors, and as he had his gun, I took one end of the staff and he the other, and in we went, with one sergeant and two corporals.
As we were going in, some officers wanted to know where the head of the regiment was. The major told them he did n't know, but here were the colors.
I believe no company came in with more than twelve men. Page and I made a fire and laid down to rest.
It was then 4 o'clock. On a rise of ground just before we got to camp, we saw the camp fires of about fifteen thousand men. It was as splendid a sight as ever I saw.
Friday, the nineteenth, we took up our march and passed Kingston on our left, across the river.
We passed a house used as a hospital, and there were rebels who were wounded there, and a rebel surgeon was with them.
Saturday, the twentieth, we marched within fourteen miles of Newbern, and went into camp in a thick wood.
There I scraped up some leaves and made a good bed, as I thought; but I took cold for the first time on our whole route.
In the morning the ground was frozen hard.
On Sunday, the twenty-first, we marched at 7 o'clock home to Newbern.
We arrived there about one-thirty, and the boys were glad to get home.
We were short of provisions all the time from Goldsboro.
We had coffee enough and we had to make it in our dippers.
We had no meat, only what we foraged, and that was very little.
I marched three days with only three hard tack a day and coffee.
The last day I marched into Newbern with only one cracker.
The last three days it should not have been so, for the gunboats met us at Kingston, and they might have brought us enough to eat. But we lived and came in almost as good as new. I don't think there was a man in the regiment who came in better than I did. I feel now as [p. 95] if I could start again and go on another, if they gave me enough to eat. During the march we made a good many halts, and we would set the fences on fire and make coffee.
In fact you might say we burnt all the fences on our line of march, and when we camped we took all the fences we could find for camp fires.
When we got into the woods we set pitch pine trees afire.
They would burn like so much pitch, and the fire would stream clear up to the top, making the most splendid sight you ever saw, especially in the night.
The whole woods were afire from within fifteen miles of Newbern to Goldsboro.
Sometimes we would come out into a plain, and perhaps there would be a tree, one hundred feet high, all burnt, so that nothing but the bare ends of the limbs would be on fire.
I never saw any fireworks on Boston Common so elegant.
But now you can guess how we looked after marching through all this smoke and pitch pine.
Our clothes were smutty as well as our faces, and we looked as if we had been in a smokehouse.
I received eight letters when I returned.
The boys are just receiving their boxes from home.
Some of them have been on the way six or seven weeks. Give my respects to all inquiring friends.
Your affectionate father,
Company F, 5th Massachusetts Infantry, enlisted from Medford, September, 1862, for nine months. The whole term was spent in and about Newbern, North Carolina.
Richard Price Hallowell, son of
Morris Longstreth Hallowell and
Hannah Smith (
Penrose), was born in
Philadelphia, Pa., December 16, 1835.
He was a descendant of
John Hallowell, who came to
Derby, Pa., from Hucknow,
England, about 682, the line being Morris L.6,
Charles Tyson5, Caleb4, William3,
Thomas2, John1.
Mr. Hallowell entered Haverford College in 1849.
He
[p. 96] came to
Boston as a wool merchant in 1857 and continued until a few years before his death, when he retired from business.
October 10, 1859, he married, in
Philadelphia,
Miss Anna Coffin Davis, granddaughter of
Lucretia Mott of wide and noble fame, and took up his residence in
Medford, where he lived until his death.
He was for a time a director of the National Bank of Commerce,
Boston, a trustee of the
Medford Savings Bank, and selectman in 1872-73.
Descended from Quaker stock, he was an earnest and active anti-slavery man, being one of those who went to Harper's Ferry to procure the body of John Brown and remove it to North Elba, N. Y. He took a prominent part in recruiting colored men for the 54th and 55th regiments.
He was treasurer of the Colored School at Calhoun, Ala., and to his interest and endeavor much of its success was due. Two letters to the Boston Herald, March 1 and 26, 1903, afterwards printed by him under the titles, ‘Why the Negro was Enfranchised,’ and ‘Negro Suffrage Justified,’ testify to his life-long interest in the colored people.
He was a zealous advocate of woman suffrage, frequently appearing before legislative committees in its defence.
He believed in it as a right, and opposed property qualifications as a surrender of principle.
Mr. Hallowell was the author of two books, ‘The Quaker Invasion of Massachusetts,’ and ‘The Pioneer Quakers,’ which were a valuable contribution to the early history of Massachusetts.
He died January 5, 1904, leaving a wife and four children.
His is the record of an honorable, cultivated man, a lover of books, and the friend of his kind at the cost of sacrifice which he ungrudgingly paid.
The Medford Historical Society solicits contributions for its scrap book and for the Colonial kitchen which it is fitting up at headquarters.
