That Old Home Spirit

Early Morning for Old Home. Bradford's Main Street is decked out in anticipation of the town's Old Home Week from August 11-17, 1901. It was described as one of the happiest weeks in Bradford's history. (Bradford Historical Society)

Take Me Back to Old Vermont. Heavy with nostalgia, this song was written in 1907 by J. C. Jones, music by H. F. Stafford and published by the Vermont Music Company of Rutland. It reflected the spirit of the Old Home movement.

Staged Alarm. At the August 1911 Thetford Pageant, local residents portray earoly Thetford families heading for safety in response to an impending British raid. Over 3,000 people viewed the three-day events staged along the Connecticut River in North Thetford. (Thetford Historical Society)

As printed in the Journal-Opinion on July 27, 2011

“Take me back to old Vermont
Where plenty smiles on every want.
Amid her winding vales, there let me roam,
By her famous pools and rills,
Marble, slate and granite hills,
And best of all, my old green mountain home.”

This is the chorus of “Take Me Back to Old Vermont,” composed in 1907 by Joseph Jones and Harry Stafford. They dedicated it to, “the sons and daughters of Vermont who have wandered from her green hills.” It reflected the mood of the Old Home Week movement of the previous decade.

This column describes how that movement was reflected in local celebrations. In addition to standard local histories, the information is taken from The Hill Country of Northern New England by Harold Wilson and The Vermont of Today, authored by Arthur Stone in 1929.

After 1820, area towns experienced a decline in population. The lure of western farm lands and urban economic opportunities drew many away. This decline raised fear that small towns in the two states were dying. Efforts were made to stem the exodus as well as draw new residents. It was out of these efforts that the Old Home Week idea was born.

It was first proposed in an 1897 article in the New England Magazine by New Hampshire’s Frank W. Rollins. Rollins called on those who had moved to revisit the town where they were born. “I wish that in the ear of every son and daughter of New Hampshire, in the summer days might be heard the persuasive word: come back, come back,” he mused.

The feeling was, Wilson wrote, “The temporary influx would freshen the humdrum lives of those who had stayed at home, and at the same time, bring a little money into the old home town.” In addition to the money spent on lodging, souvenirs and amusements, well-to-do visitors might purchase a piece of property or donate funds for a civic improvement.

This was not the first time that towns held special gatherings. Agricultural fairs, such as the ones held in Bradford after 1852, brought a community together, “and former residents made it the occasion for returning to visit relatives and revive moribund friendships.”

In 1885, Lyme held a major celebration on the common at which some 3000 present and former residents dined under a 325-foot-long tent. In 1897, Haverhill Academy had a grand reunion of alumni to celebrate the completion of the new Academy building.

It was not until 1899, however, that Frank Rollins, acting as governor, recommended that an “Old Home Week” be set aside. With the help of the Grange and the Agriculture Department, the proposal won wide acceptance and the last week in August, was set aside for the observance.

Sixty-five communities, including Piermont, formed Old Home Week Associations and invitations were sent out for the celebration. It was a marked success. Towns spruced up and decorated. Residents and visitors enjoyed parades, speeches, concerts, picnics, banquets, historic performances, and family reunions. Those who could not return because of distance, held observances by gathering in places as far away as California.

An editorial in The United Opinion praised the success of the New Hampshire program: “The idea was a novel one, but as carried out was a great success.” Pointing out that Vermont is famous for, “the men she gives to other states,” the editor encouraged the state to “profit from the example of its neighbor.” He concluded: “Think it over and next summer lets (sic) have a grand reunion of Vermonters.”

That very next year, the Vermont Legislature designated the week in August that included Bennington Battle Day as the state’s first Old Home Week. Governor William Stickney extended the state’s invitation promising: “To all her returning children we shall be glad to share hospitality and divide with them something of the strength of the hills.”

Communities across the state began, “amazing elaborate preparations.” Stone writes: “Vermonters are not given to sudden enthusiasms, so that the wide acceptance of the Old Home Week idea is the more notable, for the scheme was novel.” Forty-five towns including Bradford, Chelsea, and Peacham began early to plan programs. “Strafford started preparations late, but wound up with colors flying.”

Bradford’s Old Home Week was planned for August 11-17, 1901. Committees, including the community’s most prominent citizens, were formed to plan every aspect of the celebration. The Town appropriated $100 and private donations were solicited. One thousand invitations were sent out to former residents and descendants of former residents.

When the week arrived the town was gaily decorated with flags. The festivities began with two services of worship. On Tuesday, Captain Charles E. Clark, “Bradford’s most distinguished and noble son,” arrived to a welcoming crowd. That evening, the first annual meeting of the Bradford Academy Alumni Association was held at the Hotel Low. The week continued with banquets, historic sketches, entertainment, and speeches by residents and distinguished visitors.

As with other towns, these public events were, “…given second place to the private reunions, the renewal of acquaintances with friends and places, the revival of old ideas and affections and inspirations, the seeing again the homes of our youth with the eyes of maturity.”

The United Opinion concluded: “Bradford has, indeed, spent one of the happiest weeks in its history. Crowds of people from far and near have revisited the old home. Those who have returned for this Old Home Week must feel a sense of pride that the old town has neither retrograded nor stood still during the years which have elapsed since their residence here. Instead they return to a town that has kept up with the progress of the times.”

On July 1-2, 1902, an Old Home celebration was held in East Corinth to dedicate the Blake Memorial Library. Three children of Nathan and Susan Blake given the money to buy the land and build in library in memory of their parents. “Church services, picnics, dinners and hours of reminiscences” preceded the dedication ceremony. Long after the speeches were lost from memory, the story was told of the speaker, “who supplied the one moment of hysteria when his false teeth flew out from the grandstand in the middle of his eloquent discourse.”

In succeeding years, Old Home Weeks, or the more reduced Old Home Days, were held in towns throughout the area. In Pike and East Haverhill, they were sponsored by the Pike Manufacturing Company. In Bradford in 1909, the Fourth of July celebration seemed to be the event of the summer season. Over the years, the Old Home events were incorporated into the annual August Bradford Fair.

The chartering anniversary of area towns became a significant opportunity for celebrations. A century ago, towns across the two states observed their 150th anniversaries with historic pageants. Stone says that 1911 was, “called the pageant year…and marked the real beginning of the pageant as a feature in civic celebrations.” He writes that “the big three of 1911” were Bennington, Hartford and Thetford.

Thetford’s pageant was organized by William Chauncy Langdon, an educator from New York who advocated the use of pageants to promote civic awareness. He was drawn to the project by Thetford camp founders Luther Gulick and Professor and Mrs. Charles Farnsworth. He believed that: “The pageant is a drama in which the place is the hero and the development of the community is the plot.” He was an advocate of the New Country Life movement that called for the revitalization of America’s rural life. His role is the subject of a chapter in David Glassberg’s 1990 study of American historical pageantry.

Langdon worked with a local committee of year-round and summer residents. Duties, including that of assembling a large cast, were assigned to local community groups. Langdon secured a letter of endorsement from President Theodore Roosevelt. It read, in part, “I am much pleased to learn that the people of the town of Thetford are doing all they can to develop their resources under the direction of the University of Vermont and of the United States Department of Agriculture.”

The three-day pageant was held on the banks of the Connecticut River before large crowds. The cast of 500 residents and summer visitors, including youngsters from Camps Hanoum and Aloha, presented a series of symbolic episodes. Scenes described a nostalgic view of Thetford’s history, including its agricultural past, its role in the nation’s wars and the coming of the railroad. One scene predicted a better future for Thetford, including reversals of the previous century’s declines. .

Stone writes, “The best criticism of the whole event was made by one of the most honored citizens of the town. ‘I have lived in this town over seventy years, but this day makes it all worth while.’ ”

A more homegrown 150th celebration was held in Newbury in August 1912. The week was described by a front page article in the Groton Times. “The residents of Newbury have been preparing for this event and Sunday dawned upon that historic town dressed in gala attire, the homes open to cordially welcome the home-coming guests and strangers who came to join in the week’s festivities. Newbury people did themselves honor in this event.”

In addition to worship services, band concerts, and meals served in all sections of Newbury, the community celebrated with the dedication of five monuments. The one to General Jacob Bayley was unveiled on the Newbury village green before a crowd of 3500. A three-act play, “The Difference,” depicting a fictional account of the settlement of the town was presented at nearby Chadwick Hall. Special days celebrated Newbury Seminary and the area’s Civil War veterans. A Grand Reunion Day in West Newbury d

Haverhill held its 150th celebration in September 1912. The Soldiers’ Monument in North Haverhill was dedicated before a large crowd. A historic program was held at the Town Hall and the Village Hall served as a museum. In his remarks summarizing the history of the community, William Whitcher said: “Our heritage is a goodly one. May we transmit it not only unimpaired, but enriched to our children.” The day’s events concluded with a concert.

Orford held a 150th anniversary celebration in August 1915. It started with a parade along the common. Included in the parade was, “a hay-rack carrying about five elderly people” who had been there for the centennial observance in 1865. A banquet was served in a large tent and a ceremony was held in the Congregational Church.
drew a crowd of 600.

Old Home observances evolved after 1915. In some communities, they would only occur
on significant milestones, such as the 200th anniversaries of town chartering in the 1960’s, the bicentennial of the nation in 1976 and the anniversary of Vermont statehood in 1991.

Some towns adopted a different theme for a summer/fall celebration. Beginning in 1925, Fairlee residents worked with “summer people” to hold an annual Fairlee Day. Contests, parades, baseball games and camp activities were included. In 1926, the town used the occasion for the dedication of the Soldiers’ Monument on the Green. Fairlee Day has been held from time to time since.

On August 20, 1932, 400 people gathered in Piermont for the presentation of a “colorful historical pageant.” as part of a weekend of Old Home activities. At its conclusion, the organizing committee offered its thanks to the whole community, “for the success of this undertaking became a matter of great moment to all, and surely deserves to be long remembered in the annals of Piermont.”

Beginning in 1947, Orford used the Fourth of July as Old Home Day. Lyme had an Old Home Day Association from 1948 to 1958. About the same time, Groton began taking advantage of the influx of tourists in October to host Fall Foliage Day. Several towns moved their yearly celebration to Labor Day.

The Upper Valley is in the midst of another significant observance, the 250th anniversary of the Middle Grants. Events began this year and will continue through at least 2015, when Orford and Bradford celebrate the 250th anniversary of their settlements. Fairlee has already set a good example with its July 4th weekend celebration. Thetford will replicate the 1911 pageant on August 12-14 at Thetford Academy. Both towns have published updated histories.

Many of the successful observances mentioned above have common characteristics. They include wide community co-operating and planning, a respect for heritage mingled with a dose of nostalgia and a realistic view of current and future situations, an opportunity for fun-filled get-togethers, a celebration of family and friends and a hearty welcome for the returning visitor or stranger. Whether a local community is an old home or a new one to a town’s residents, these are attributes worth celebrating well beyond festive days.

The Old Barn

MARTIN FARM--This barn is an example of a Vermont barn still serving its purpose.

Located on the farm of Larry and Sue Martin's dairy farm in Fairlee, it plays a major role in the childhood memories of my wife, Carolyn and her siblings, Charlotte, Larry. Gene and Cathy.

Yankee Barn--This early barn is owned by Trudy and Stanton Fadden and is located on Rogers Hill Road in Bradford. At some time in the past, it was moved to this site onto an existing stone foundation. It represents as style of barn architecture that became popular in the 1820's.

Bradford Historical Society)

Houghton's Folly--byuilt in 1878 in lower Orford, this elaborate barn was the centerpiece of the Pavilion Stock Farm. Said to have been the size of 18 good-sized barns, it was built for Boston merchant S. S. Houghton. First used for housing harness race horses, it was destroyed by fire in 1930. (Orford Historical Society)



IN THE ROUND--Located south of Wells River, this round barn was built in 1903 by Hammon Baldwin. The style featured a central silo and a covered high drive ramp and was designed to save labor. The barn is currently part of the Knox farms. (Michelle Sherburne)



GRAY OLD LADY--Moving toward its tipping point, this barn is located on Route 5 south of the Bradford-Fairlee line. While once a centerpiece of the Gray family farm, it now sits idle with nature taking its toll. In 2014 this barn was torn down. (Larry Coffin)

THIS ESSAY IS JUST ONE OF TWENTY-ONE AVAILABLE IN THE BOOK, “IN TIMES PAST, ESSAYS FROMTHE UPPER VALLEY” BOOK TWO AVAILABLE FROM THE AUTHOR FOR $24 INCLUDING SHIPPING.  SEND A CHECK TO THE AUTHOR AT P.O. BOX 490, BRADFORD, VT 05033

As published in the Journal-Opinion, June 22, 2011

“The barn is vernacular architecture. It is a reflection of the people and history of the region. Few of us can determine the age of a barn or its specific purpose at a glance, but we admire the classical proportions, the harvest design and sturdy construction, and the use of native materials. We can imagine how the building represented the aspirations and success of its first owner.”

This quote from Charles Leik’s Barns was sent to me by Jeannette Nordham of Bradford. Jeannette spearheaded a Bradford barn census a year ago for the Bradford Historical Society. She and her team documented the history of 50 barns that had been used for agriculture and built before 1958. Tony Brainerd photographed each of the structures. This census was conducted in connection with a state-wide program of the Vermont Department of Historic Preservation.

Last October, Nancy Boone of the DHP presented the history of Vermont barns to a large local audience. She had high praise for the work accomplished by the Bradford team. She included a few of Brainerd’s photographs in her standard presentation. On Wednesday, August 17, the Society will present a program on Bradford barns using the photographs and information collected for the census. This program will be held in the Bradford Academy auditorium and will be open to the general public.

This column deals with the development of area barns, tangible evidence of the evolution of agriculture in the area. It uses information from local histories, Field Guide to New England Barns and Farm Buildings by Thomas Visser and Boone’s presentation.

If the first structures built by settlers were houses, they were soon followed by barns. As in the European countries from which they came, barns were essential to subsistence farmers. They provided space for animals and equipment and for the processing and storage of crops. As with the first log cabins, log barns were rude structures. As quickly as framed homes were built, barns were framed as well.

Using local timber, many early barn builders used traditional English designs adapted to the harsher climate of northern New England. The so-called English barn, commonly 30’ x 40’, had a large door on the eaves side. The central area was a threshing floor with bays on either side.

Framing timbers were hewn from tree trunks with broad axes, sometimes smoothed with an adze and fastened in place with wooden pegs. For roofing, wooden shingles were used instead of thatch. Green framing sheathing was applied loosely, using hand-wrought nails. As the boards dried, cracks developed between them admitting light and ventilation. One 1855 observer wrote that barns often had, “cracks wide and numerous enough to thoroughly ventilate the barn, and keep it cool, especially in the winter.”

The following story about Aaron Mann’s barn building experience appears in Joel Mann’s 1865 “Centennial Celebration of Orford” speech. “Having occasion to board a new barn, and the boards being rather green, he tacked them on, as was customary, for shrinking before the final fastening, and retired to his bed, always sweet to the laboring man. During the night there arose, or rather descended one of those [Orford] mountain winds, and on viewing his barn in the morning, he found all the nails were driven ‘spang in to the head.’ ”

By the 1820’s, modifications in this traditional style appeared. Known as the Yankee barn, it had a similar internal design to earlier barns, but with the main door moved to the shorter gable end, allowing additional bays to be added as needed. Machine-made nails and timber sawed on circular saws replaced earlier materials allowing for tighter construction. Some windows, including small glass panes known as transom “lights” over the door, became common.

Farmers’ publications of the 1850’s advised against building too large or fancy a barn, noting that, “Few farmers can afford to erect a building equal to the one they can plan.” Encouraging farmers to retain the “common-place and meager” styles, J. H. Hammond warned in 1858: “Farmers should be put on their guard against laying out extravagant sums for the sake of making their barns ‘artistic’ and elegant structures….we have contended that decorations are useless on a dwelling-house: they are utterly senseless on a barn.”

These publications also included the debates over the wisdom of constructing a cellar. In 1857, a contributor to The New England Farmer wrote that: “A good cellar is as indispensable to a barn as to a house.” The cellar was used as extra space for the storage of crops, housing for animals and for the storage of manure, the benefits of which as fertilizer was being encouraged.


Barn size and architecture evolved with changes in agriculture in the two-state area. The introduction of sheep after 1810 resulted in barns with wide south-facing open shelters and a wool room. The decline of wheat as a major crop reduced the need for a threshing floor. The rise of the dairy industry required larger barns with stanchions. Raising horses required barns that could accommodate stalls. Farmers sometimes built hay barns in the outer pastures to store hay until it was needed. Many village homes also had barns to house carriages and horses and perhaps chickens and a family milk (milch) cow.

As barns were often the largest buildings around, they were sometimes pressed into other uses. In Bradford, one of the earliest schools was in a barn. In Thetford and Haverhill, newly formed congregations began by holding services in barns. In 1832, 500 mourners attended a funeral for three sisters in a large Piermont barn. Musters, town meetings, weddings, work bees and dances were held in barns. Later, the large exterior walls became billboards for products and events. Even later, barns became artist studios, theatres and apartment or business locations.

The hilly terrain of the area led to the building of bank barns. Similar in appearance to earlier barns, these structures were built in to the side of a hill to create a cellar. This style of barn often featured ventilators and cupolas, sometimes topped by weathervanes. Tighter building construction created the need to vent moisture from cattle and manure.

In some cases, a high drive ramp was built from the hillside to the upper floor, allowing hay to be easily transported for storage. Farmers used gravity for pitching hay from the loft and for shoveling manure through a hatch to the cellar below. This was especially important when there was a shortage of labor caused by the exodus of young men.

Just as new styles of construction were used, new labor-saving machines were constantly being introduced. Horse-powered fork lift raised hay to the lofts, later replaced by engine-powers methods. As the 19th century drew to a close, concrete began to replace fieldstone and planks for foundations and flooring. New building materials and techniques improved barn construction. Silos created feeding alternatives to hay and oats. Gable-front barns and ground level stable barns were built to accommodate larger herds. Milk houses were added to conform to changing health regulations.

Many barns in the styles mentioned above can still be seen around the area. There were also several built in dramatically different styles. The round or polygonal barn was not common although there were a few built in the area. Barns of this type were often up to four stories tall and were designed for maximum labor efficiency. Often a covered ramp led to the hayloft and cattle were stabled facing inward to a central silo. Two that survive include the one on the Knox farm south of Wells River and a 16-sided barn on the Schmidt farm on Route 10 in Piermont.

The most elaborate barn in the area was the centerpiece of the Pavilion Stock Farm, south of Orford village. A prime example of the more ornate structures, it was built in 1878 by S. S. Houghton of Boston. Built at a cost of $40,000, it was 240’ by 200’ with four floors topped by a clock tower, 150’ high. It had the capacity of 18 good-sized barns and could accommodate 200 horses. The building was destroyed by fire on July 26, 1930.

Of course, barns were the centerpiece of a myriad of smaller support buildings. This included a silo, corn crib, granary, smokehouse, root cellar, woodshed, spring house, privy, piggery and a sugar house. One unique feature that developed in our two-state area was the connected barn. This style of continuous architecture connected the barn to the main house with a series of support buildings. This offered a sheltered corridor when the dooryard was plagued with deep snow and sub-zero temperatures. The danger of fire spreading to engulf the connected structures has led to alterations disconnecting the house and barn.

Fire has always been a constant threat to barns. Spontaneous combustion caused by improperly cured hay or dust has destroyed many of them. In the 19th century, several area towns went through an outbreak of intentional barn burnings. Having one’s barn burn and crops and livestock destroyed strikes most heavily at a farmer’s spirit and well-being. If initial barn-raisings promotes neighborliness, so does the response to the loss of a barn by fire.

Fire is not the only danger to barns. The decline of farming has made many barns a liability. With the increasing cost of maintaining barns, they fall into disrepair to the point of collapse. Several of the oldest barns in Bradford have been removed, their boards and beams becoming building material for new buildings elsewhere.

Pauline Whittemore of Lyme is quoted in that town’s Patterns and Pieces about a barn that had reached a tipping point: “The barn was beginning to return to nature. A beam had parted in the corner and poles had been put up to hold it for just a little longer…an empty barn that is not in use loses a shingle here and there. With each fall of snow and with the freezing and thawing and the rushing waters of spring clawing at the foundation, the walls will settle and stress begin. The winter winds and summer storms rack and push an empty barn. With the help of time, they have their way and gradually take it back from whence it came many years ago.”

Jeannette Nordham and her husband Bob are owners of an 1840 English-style barn in Bradford. When asked about her interest in old barns, she said that it stems from childhood visits to her grandfather’s farm in Iowa. Together they provided me with the following: “Those barn owners who have maintained and/or restored their barns, are glad they did. Barns can still have useful purposes. They add to the beauty of the rural landscape and are a worthwhile investment!”

In her October presentation, Nancy Boone said that at the present rate of destruction, some towns will have no barns remaining. She encouraged other towns to follow Bradford’s example by conducting a barn census. Owners of barns should also be aware of state and private grants available to preserve their structures. Although they are small and highly competitive, these grants offer some funds for repairs and maintenance. Some New Hampshire towns, including Haverhill, have taken advantage of a state law allowing property tax advantages to owners of historic barns.


This spring it was announced that the number of dairy farms in Vermont had dropped below 1000. Farm diversification takes some of the sting out of that statistic. There is no doubt that a part of the tourist attraction for our area lies in its pastoral landscape resplendent with carefully tended farms. Because of their importance to both our cultural heritage and current economy, we need to tend to our area barns. Let’s not lock the barn door after its too late.

Mining Mania in Grafton West

One of the earliest commercially quarried minerals in the area was limestone. Shown is the restored lime kiln, one of two built near Black Mountain in Haverhill for the purpose of burning limestone, a process essential to its use.

Pike Manufacturing Company works at Pike Station supplied natural whetstones to a worldwide market. In 1932, the company was bought out and the operation was moved to Littleton.


Employees of the Pike Manufacturing Company are shown hauling stone from the Haverhill quarry. Horses, such as "Old Phoebe," were relied upon to lighten the work load.

As printed in the Journal Opinion, -May 25, 2011

“What stores the bowels of the mountains contain, time must unfold; all searches for subterraneous treasures have hitherto proved fruitless. …But from the specimens which have appeared, there can be no doubt of the existence of mineral and fossil treasures, the search of which, future generations will find employment.”

This observation about New Hampshire was written by British writer William Winterbotham in 1795. He based it on the earlier writings of New Hampshire’s Jeremy Belknap. This column details some of the mineral treasures found in neighboring towns in Grafton County. It also examines some of what Belknap called, “the disappointments [and] air of mystery” of some local mining and quarrying enterprises.

Probably the earliest use of stone by the settlers of the area was fieldstones for foundations and stonewalls. The source was nearby pastures and woodlands. These practical uses also removed them as an obstacle to farming.

Soapstone, also known as cottonstone was one of the earliest commercially quarried minerals in the area. Easy to carve even with woodworking tools, this stone had many uses including gravestones, water pipes and stoves. One of the largest quarries was located two miles north of Orford village on Cottonstone Mountain. In 1825, Samuel Robinson, in his Catalogue of American Minerals, described it as “one of the finest localities of sealtite [soapstone] in the United States.” Two additional quarries were located in the village of Orfordville and north of Briar Hill in North Haverhill. Bittinger’s History of Haverhill states that attempts to bring the latter to market, “proved a financial failure.”

Limestone was used in the smelting of iron, for plastering or whitewashing walls and for agricultural use. It was found in a number of area towns. Limestone was found in Haverhill in 1837 and two kilns were built near Black Mountain for the burning of limestone, a process essential for its use. In his 1842 survey of the geology of New Hampshire, Charles Thomas Jackson wrote the “inexhaustible beds of limestone” in Haverhill, Lisbon and Lyme were of “incalculable importance” to the economy of the state.

Given the quantities of limestone and wood for the kilns, New Hampshire lime easily replaced more expensive lime from other states. The Haverhill Lime Company operated kilns from 1864 until about 1888. Jackson mentions that one of the several limestone quarries operating in Lisbon in 1844 was over 60 ft deep and 300 ft long.
While they appeared to have closed by the late 1880s, they were for a time, “quite an industry.”

It is for good cause that New Hampshire is known as “the Granite State.” Granite is its most common mineral. At one time or another, granite has been quarried in many local towns. From the earliest years, granite was used for fence posts, foundations, doorsteps and millstones. At first, the source was surface boulders, with quarrying beginning in New England about 1800. By then, granite was being used for buildings and monuments, uses that continue today.

The history of local granite operations, as well as other mines and quarries, is detailed in Katharine Blaisdell’s Over the River and Through the Years, Book Four.
She writes that there was quarrying of granite at the Catamount Ridge south of Haverhill Corner which began in the 1780’s. In 1844, C. T. Jackson observed that good quality granite existed there “abundantly” and was “extensively quarried.” A number of companies were established both at Catamount Ridge and Briar Hill in North Haverhill. One company featured pink granite from the latter. The granite from these locations was used in the construction of a number of local buildings.

In 1893, Stone magazine predicted that the granite industry in the Haverhill area would “develop into a great business in time.” However, competition from other states, including Vermont, ended that hope. By about 1900, the quarries, and the cutting sheds that serviced them, had ceased operation.

At Piermont’s Black Hill, granite was quarried for almost the same length of time. It was described as “a variety not found elsewhere in New Hampshire.” In 1890, the Black Hill Granite Company was incorporated to expand the existing operation with three quarries. While the granite took a beautiful polish, “it could not be quarried in large enough blocks free of imperfections to make the business profitable.” Prior to its demise, there was a plan to build a railroad to transport the granite to Bradford’s railroad connection.

Sythestones or whetstones were also quarried in Piermont and Haverhill, an industry that remained vibrant for over a century. Both towns had deposits of mica schist, a fine-grained stone hard enough to sharpen any steel. Robert Fillion of Haverhill describes the history of the industry in that town, beginning as early as 1820. Locally, it probably had its origins in the need of a farmer to sharpen an ax or scythe. He may have picked up a stone, found it served his purpose and a local industry was born.

A number of individuals including Isaac Pike of Haverhill and later Charles Dodge and W. H. Gannett of Piermont were involved in grinding whetstones, but it was Pike’s son Alonzo who transformed the industry. The A. F. Pike Company, incorporated in 1883, became the Pike Manufacturing Company. Using stone from its quarries in Haverhill, Lisbon and Piermont, it became the world’s largest manufacturer of natural whetstones. From its company town at Pike Station, it shipped products to domestic and foreign markets. The market for natural whetstones declined after 1920 and the company was bought out in 1932 and operations were moved to Littleton.

Several types of slate have been quarried in the local area. In his 1870 report on the geology of the state, Charles Henry Hitchcock describes the considerable amount of clay slate that had recently been located along the Connecticut River. The slate found in Littleton was suitable for roofing and marbleizing and other “practical purposes.” He mentions that “excellent specimens” indicated the presence of slate in Piermont and south into Hanover and Lebanon. While the southern locations proved commercially successful, I could find no evidence of a quarry in Piermont at that time.

While clay slate was found along the Connecticut, mica slate was quarried on the hillsides. At its best, mica can be mined in “books” and processed in sheets that are semi-transparent and capable of withstanding high temperatures. It was often used in place of glass, when that was unavailable or not suitable, as in stoves or oil lamps. The discovery of vast quantities of this mineral overseas in the 19th century discouraged local operations.

The most important site for open pit mica mining was at the Ruggles Mine at Glass Mountain in Grafton, NH, where mica was discovered in 1803. As late as 1906, they were supplying mica for the Mica Crystal Works grinding plant in Warren. During World War II, the Woodward mica quarry was in operation south of Orford village. According to a 1953 U.S. Geological Survey, the quarry produced a “fine grain quartz-mica” from a pit that was 140 ft. long, 25 ft. wide and up to 40 ft. deep.

Iron ore was mined in several area towns. One of the most productive mines was at Cross or Iron Ore Hill near the Piermont-Warren town line. In 1844, it was reported that immense quantity of, “specular and magnetic iron of superior quality” was found there and over 100 tons had been transported to a Vermont smelting furnace. In 1861, it was described as one of the richest ores in the nation. It was suggested that the availability of local firewood and limestone would make this a very profitable location, but apparently this did not materialize. The 1886 Grafton County gazetteer makes no mention of any iron mining in Piermont. There were prospects for iron at Holt’s Hill in Lyme also, but no active mining. The 1844 report mentioned two “nefarious swindling” proposals that lost money for investors.

One of the most interesting stories of a hoax involving mining mania is related in
Little’s History of Warren. A group of 19th century tourists from New York were visiting Mt. Moosilauke. “There they fell in with a spiritualist who went into a fit, and looking with shut eyes toward Sentinel mountain saw fourteen different mines upon that green wooded eminence…the oracle was believed, a company was organized and they actually worked a year and a half at the spot indicated.” The minerals found did not pay and the investors lost thousands of dollars.

But at Ore Hill in western Warren deposits of copper, lead, silver and zinc deposits were found. Attempt to mine these began in the 1830’s and continued until 1959. Some attempts in the 1860s resulted in short term success, to the point of creating an active village of miners. Most, however, were thwarted by high processing and shipping costs, failure to find sufficient resources and fire.

The best local example of mining mania was caused by the discovery of gold in Lisbon in 1864. Within a year, three companies had been formed with interests in Lyman, Lisbon, Bath and Monroe. The area was given the name “Ammonoosuc Gold Field.” By 1877, one company had shipped 500 tons of ore to crushing mills in the area. Hitchcock reported that the best part of the Lyman vein produced about $18 of gold per ton of rock.

He predicted that these mines would only be profitable with luck and the expenditure of considerable capital. Luck was not on the side of the prospectors and the gold produced was less than mining and processing costs. The whole business was based on speculation and mine salting was common. Some were fooled by gold lookalikes. Doubt led to decline and even an attempt to reestablish the mine in Lyman in the early 1900’s failed. With that, the dreams of a “new Eldorado” vanished.

In addition to these commercial enterprises, the minerals of the area attracted “mineralogical tourists.” From the first half of the 19th century to the present, these “rock hounds”, cold-chisel and hammer in hand, have scoured the area for cabinet specimens. In 1844, James Dana listed the minerals to be found in area towns. They included in Haverhill: garnet and natural arsenic; Lyme: kyanite and black tourmaline, and Warren: quartz and termolite.

New Hampshire is still described as “an excellent location for the amateur mineral field collector,” and recreational gold panning is popular on several local streams and rivers, including the Wild Ammonoosuc. Many of the abandoned mines and quarries mentioned above are sites for those seeking specimens.


Few companies other than gravel, sand and crushed rock remains from the various local enterprises mentioned in this column. Many of the abandoned quarries and piles of tailings from those mining operations are overgrown and forgotten, except as they pollute neighboring streams.

That is not to say that the hills that hosted these mines and quarries no longer have treasures to offer. Abandoned mining roads have become hiking trails. Mountain sides offer sites for recreation and forestry operations. Seasons are heralded by their changing colors. And for those of us who have grown up in their shadows, they provide the reassurance of having a horizon against which you can rest your eyes.

The Old Town Tavern (1765-1865)

Described in tourist guides as "a comfortable little hotel in Bradford" the Trotter House and stable served clients that arrived by stage or by station wagon from nearby railroad stations.

Newbury's Spring Hotel, located on Main Street in Newbury village hosted guests who came to "take the waters" at the nearby sulfur springs. It may have also hosted runaway slaves on the Underground Railroad.

This was one of the first taverns in Bradford. Originally located on the west side of the river road (Rt. 5), it was built by Capt. John Barron around 1800. About 1826, it was purchased by John and Hannah Pearsons, who operated it for 16 years. In 1842, they moved it to its present location on the east side of the road and built the new tavern shown below.




The Bliss Tavern, one of several at Haverhill Corner, hosted large crowds attending the nearby Grafton County Court. Owned by Captain Joseph Bliss, it also drew business from its location at the terminus of the Coos Turnpike that led to Warren and points south.

To great fanfair and with liquid refreshments aplenty, Jonathan Sinclair open his newly refurbished Grafton Hotel in 1830. As with the nearby Bliss Tavern, it drew customers from the adjacent Coos Turnpike.

The Old Town Tavern (1765-1865)
As published in the Journal-Opinion, April 20, 2011

“To the public generally he would observe, that his house shall never become the haunt of tipplers, gamblers and idlers, but shall on all occasions be found a pleasant and commodious resort for the weary traveler, the man of business, and the gentlemen of pleasure. On the subject of charges, attendants and fare, the proprietor would remark that fair dealings, trusty servants, and good living shall be found inmates of his establishment. He also professes to be a connoisseur in the article of Coffee and can well distinguish the Coos Domestic, from the Java Coffee. His bar is well furnished with the best of liquors and one toddy stick for the accommodation of customers with none for family use.”

This 1830 advertisement in the New Hampshire Post by Jonathan Sinclair announced the opening of his newly refurbished Grafton Hotel at Haverhill Corner. His was one of scores of inns, taverns and public houses that operated in the region. This column describes these establishments during the first century after settlement. It uses the terms inn and tavern interchangeably, except in the title of a specific business. It draws on standard local history books as well as information collected by John C. Wriston Jr. in his book, Vermont Inns and Taverns.

The first taverns were just simple cabins that provided shelter and food for those who passed by. The roads on which they were located were rough, and the infrequent travelers were afoot or on horseback. As communities grew and improved roads allowed for wheeled vehicles, many hostels developed into framed multistoried houses and later into elaborate hotels.

Taverns were often the first public buildings opened. The first in the region was Uriah Morse’s log cabin “ordinary” in North Haverhill, which offered shelter beginning in1762, a year before the town was chartered. In Orford, Israel Morey’s home was a tavern in 1766, one year following the arrival of the first settler. Robert Johnston opened a tavern in Newbury in 1769, the first one in what is now Orange County. Wells’ History of Newbury states that, “the first spirits sold at his bar were brought up from Concord in square kegs on horseback.”

Innkeepers were often men of local distinction, holding such positions as selectmen, legislators or post masters. Often they operated other businesses as well. Daniel Cooke of Corinth had operated a distillery, gristmill, potash plant and tannery as well as an inn. Many, like Colonel Morey, were veterans. Haverhill historian John Quincy Bittinger wrote that a hospitable innkeeper was expected to be, “agreeable and companionable by his ability to engage in intelligent conversation.”

Taverns were generally located along the well-traveled roads and as the roads increased in number and improved in condition, the number of taverns increased. The first taverns in Lyme were located along the River Road, and others followed as the Grafton Turnpike opened. In Ryegate, there were as many as seven taverns along the Bayley-Hazen Road. Taverns from Thetford to Newbury were stationed on the Windsor-St. Johnsbury Road.

In the 1790s, additional public roads were laid out and in the new century, private turnpikes were constructed. Both had a major influence on the development of taverns.
Situated along these roads, inns serviced teamsters carrying loads of goods, farmers driving animals and taking their crops to market and stagecoach passengers. Sometimes taverns specialized to the needs of these different groups of clients. Some taverns had contracts with stage lines and kept a stable with fresh horses.

Taverns also served the local community. They were the village social center where locals came for mail, supplies, companionship and news from the outside brought in by travelers. Before the building of town houses, they provided a place for town meetings, court sessions, Masonic meetings, militia musters and even worship services. Later ones often had a ball room for dancing and hosted concerts and traveling performers.

As the buildings evolved beyond the small cabin to framed structures, taverns provided more rooms. The Morse Tavern in Haverhill, a teamster tavern, is described by Bittinger as having four large rooms below and two in the attic. “One of the lower rooms was used as the bar-room, and the other opposite was a sort of reception room. Back of these was the kitchen and dining room. In the attic were rooms for the family.” Teamsters and farmers often slept on the floor of the barroom near the large fireplace. Some innkeepers complained that these customers sometimes brought their own food and only purchased drink.

Some inns offered hospitality to an occasional unusual guest. The Three Beaver tavern on the River Road in Lyme hosted, “according to tradition, some Saint Francis Indians [who] lodged there while traveling to Dartmouth College to visit their sons, and slept with their heads outside the window.” In addition to European guests touring the two-state area, hotels sometimes hosted traveling celebrities. In 1832, noted writer Washington Irving stayed at the Orford Hotel and commented quite favorably on the beauty of the village.

The reputation of a tavern was enhanced by the quality of the food and drink served. While the price of the services varied, in the 1830’s one might expect to pay ten cents for lodging, 12 cents for “a bite” and 25 cents for a regular meal. “With what was left at the bar, the landlords managed to collect quite a revenue in those days.” Principal drinks of the day included rum, cider and flip, a popular beverage made with sweetened beer. Some establishments probably had the same reputation as Haverhill’s Colbeth Tavern, where it was said, “the fast men of the day met and drank and handled cards.”

Local communities licensed the sale of alcohol by taverns. Overindulgence in alcohol was common, and proprietors would be fined or lose their license if they did not maintain an “orderly house.” Bittinger relates one example of overindulgence: When Jonathan Sinclair opened his tavern in Haverhill and, “the sign-post was raised, the whole crowd, it is said, was drunk, and one of the prominent citizens in Ladd street, who aided in raising the sign-pole, went home so far to ‘windward ’ that he tied his horse up by the tail.” It can be assumed that when liquor was served, barrooms were sometimes the scene of alcohol-fueled brawls. Friendly discussions or card games sometimes ended in disputes.

There were also legal disputes between proprietors. The Newbury history recounts the dispute between Widow Lovewell, who ran the Sawyer House, and Col. Thomas Johnson “over a barrel of rum, which she had bought of him and which she averred was more than half water. The colonel stoutly affirmed that it was rum, and nothing but rum, when it left his premises. The affair made much talk, and the colonel sued the widow for slander. It came out in the trial that the barrel had taken a whole night to travel the mile which lay between the two taverns, circumstances which Mrs. Lovewell’s hired man, and two others were very backward about explaining.” A dispute between the owners of the Bliss Hotel on Bradford’s Main Street and the neighboring Trotter House made it all the way to the Vermont Supreme Court.

With the growth of the temperance movement in the 19th century, attempts were made to restrict public drinking. There was pressure for establishments to forswear the sale of alcohol and become “temperance houses.” There was also pressure to discourage taverns from allowing dice or card games. While there were many ways around prohibition, the statutes passed in the two states between 1844 and 1855 closed down use of the bars in many taverns and inns.

Some taverns offered larger accommodations. During sessions at the nearby Grafton County Court, the Bliss Tavern on the common in Haverhill was filled with crowds attending the court. Katharine Blaisdell, whose Book Five of Over the River and Through the Years, details many of the taverns of the area, and describes the lodging provided by Captain Joseph Bliss. “By furnishing each of the bedrooms with six beds, plus straw mattresses on the floor, and assigning 3 or 4 men to each bed, he could provide lodging for a hundred or more people.”

Even more elaborate facilities were Newbury’s Spring Hotel, Bradford’s Trotter House and the Orford Hotel north of the turn to Fairlee. The Spring Hotel was opened in 1800 and run in connection with the nearby sulfur spring, where guests “took the waters.” Over the next 65 years, it was enlarged and, by the end of the Civil War, it had four stories, contained 40 rooms and was lighted by gas manufactured on the premises.

Wells writes, “In that house, as originally constructed, there was a secret apartment, known only to the proprietor…for the concealment of smuggled goods.” In her research on the Underground Railroad Journal-Opinion staffer Michelle Sherburne mentions that a tunnel leading from the hotel may have provided refuge for runaway slaves. The Beal Tavern on Lyme’s Dorchester Road and the Bliss Tavern are also mentioned as stations on the Underground Railroad.

Proprietors who had a house near a busy road or turnpike prospered. Those situated in a busy village did better than those in more rural locations. In his 1870 History of Warren, William Little, given to fanciful representations, has the following description of taverns that may not have existed in reality: “These taverns flourished wonderfully, and the proprietors all arrived at considerable wealth. The landlords had comely daughters for waiting maids; strong armed sons to attend the great ox teams that stopped to bait or rest over night, or to groom the saddle horses of gentlemen who patronized them. These inns of the old days were good ones, the table was always well set, the cream the sweetest and richest, the butter and eggs always fresh, vegetables and everything else nice, clean white beds, snowy linen sheets, well swept floors, all was bright and neat as strong hands could make it.”

The arrival of the railroad in the late 1840’s had a major impact. Those in villages with stations prospered. New ones were built in railroad villages such as Woodsville and Wells River. Station wagons brought passengers from the railroad stations to neighboring hotels. The flow of what would now be called tourists grew steadily as rail travel improved.

Just as some taverns and inns prospered, others disappeared. If traffic on a road disappeared, so did the taverns. Some such as Bradford’s Vermont House burned, and were not rebuilt. Other owners lost interest, died or moved away. Many structures throughout the area still exist, but have been converted to private homes. Current owners of those homes may not realize that their front room was once a barroom or that in an upstairs bedroom once slept eight or ten patrons.

The history of hotels and taverns did not stop in 1865, the period covered in this article. Later history will be covered in future columns. But it can be said that the hotels, motels and restaurants that currently operate in our region are the heirs to a tradition of hospitality, of eating out and staying over, established by the numerous taverns, inns and public houses of the past.

(Editor’s note: Additional articles in this series can be found in the author’s book In Times Past: Essays from the Upper Valley)

No One Lives There Anymore

This 1925 map shows the extent of desertion of roads and houses in Piermont, Warren, Orford, Wentworth, Lyme and Dorchester. The dots represent deserted houses, and the heavy lines are deserted roads; roads still in use at the time are shown by a light line. The map is a result of a study by Dartmouth geography professor James Goldthwait that was included in his 1927 article "A Town That Has Gone Downhill."

The back of beyond sections of area towns were littered with the remains of abandoned homes and farm buildings as residents moved away and nature reclaimed the pastures. (UVM Special Collections)

The Frank Finney fam was one of the last to survive in Orford's Quinttown. According to Leon Marsh of Fairlee, who was born in this house, the buildings burned in the 1940s. Abandoned stone walls and overgrown cellar holes create a "silence of desolation" in this once thriving neighborhood. (Orford Historical Society) Copperfield, in Vershire, was a booming mining town in the 1890s. In the center of the village was a three-story company store. All that remains of this thriving community are the tailings, or waste materials, from the mines. (UVM Special Collections) In the 1870s, the mining company provided these shanties for miners and their families at the Pike Hill copper mine in Corinth. Like Copperfield to the south, this village disappeared with the closing of the mine. (UVM Special Collections) In August, 2006, my brother, Ray Coffin, Jr. joined me in a visit to the site of our great grandfather's farm on Hodge's Hill adjacent to the road between West Topsham and East Orange, Vermont. He and his family were one of five or six farm families that lived in this little neighborhood just before the Civil War. All that is left are cellar holes, stone walls and overgrown orchards. The road is now just a trail. As published in the Journal-Opinion, February 23 and March 2, 2011 “The traveler through such States as Vermont and New Hampshire in particular finds deserted homesteads at every turn, ruined and empty houses and their ramshackle barns, with open doors and windows looking like eye holes in a skull, and wide stretches of young forest, where once grew corn and potatoes. The inexorable forest comes down and claims its own as soon as the hand of man intermits his patient toil.” This 1897 observation by Daniel Appleton describes the condition in the back of beyond sections of many area towns as population declined after 1820. In December 2009 and March 2010, I wrote about the exodus from the region. This column deals with those area neighborhoods that became deserted. Not all deserted neighborhoods are covered as they have disappeared either in name or detailed memory. These include such sites as Davistown, Baldwin Corners, and Gray City, all in Orford. The population boom experienced by many area towns in the formative decades after 1765 brought farm families to all parts of each community. Many early farmers preferred the hill country because it was less prone to floods or swamps. They believed that the centuries of leaf mold from deciduous trees created better soil than that of the pine-covered low lands. For them, the sun shown a bit longer and the warm breezes prevented earlier frosts than in the shadowy valleys. Marginal though it was, the uplands provided sufficiently for the subsistence farmer. Lumber, firewood and maple sugar were taken from nearby forests, stones for walls were collected from upland pastures and food crops were grown on the place. But for many, the isolation was hard, especially for the women whose tasks literally worked them to death. At some point in the decades from 1820 to 1860, every area town reached a peak of population and began to decline. For a time, in some hill locations, it was true that the “only thing growin’” was the cemetery. These same towns recorded their lowest population since settlement in the period between 1920 and 1950. The following represents the high and low census years for some area towns during the period from 1820 to 1970. Lyme 1820, 1930; Thetford 1830, 1940; Newbury 1850, 1970; Bradford 1860, 1930; Topsham 1840, 1940. The causes of this decline include the lure of cheap land on the ever-expanding western frontier and the promises of the nation’s growing cities. These opportunities held special attraction for young adults. Other reasons given include the inability of these rough country farms to compete with the West in raising sheep and growing wheat, their most profitable. Add to these high taxes, severe winters and the loss of neighbors and kin. Some blamed those who unwisely located in submarginal locations or were too unwilling to do the work necessary to “eke out a living.” One observer blamed the decline on the poor diet of the families. Too much fried meat, potatoes and pie! The impact was most evident in the upland hill regions on the east side of area towns in New Hampshire and the west side of Vermont towns. In his 1927 article, A Town That Has Gone Downhill, Dartmouth geography professor James Goldthwaite describes the impact of depopulation on the eastern half of Lyme as an example of what was happening in many hill country neighborhoods. Lyme’s Patterns and Pieces includes several lengthy descriptions of school districts that reflected this decline. Written in 1948 by Edwin Dimick, they include the Acorn and Whipple School Districts in the north central part of town. The area was settled as early as 1776 and became a farming community with fine buildings and productive fields and orchards. Having lived there all of his 86 years, Dimick describes place after place where the buildings were gone and the fields had grown up to brush. Goldthwaite also mentions the decline of Tinkhamtown, a small settlement in the southeast corner of Lyme south of Gline’s Hill and the area around Acorn Hill and Smart’s Mountain. He describes the decline of farms: “the tide was ebbing fast by 1860.” By 1892, “the entire northeastern quarter of the township, so largely occupied by Smart’s Mountain, thus became a blank on the population map.” The Acorn Hill neighborhood was completely abandoned and “the 1100-foot contour…marks a rather definite population strand line for 1925.” It is no accident that a portion of this almost inaccessible territory is known as Hardscrabble. Neighboring Orford’s Quinttown is another prime example of the abandonment of the hill settlements. In 1792, Benjamin Quint settled adjacent to the base of Mt Cube near Jacob’s Brook. Goldthwaite described the community at its height as having “fifteen houses, a few saw mills, shops, a schoolhouse or two and a store and there was a schoolhouse (gone before 1855) at the top of the long hill on the mountainside, with 50 or 60 pupils.” At its height nearly 200 residents lived in the vicinity.  Farming along with the quarrying of limestone were the two major economic activities. By 1892, the village had been largely abandoned. Several farms held out into the first decades of the 20th century. Lumbering activities were common. By the late 1940’s the only resident was the recluse Billy Brown. The swimming hole at Flat Rock on Jacob’s Brook was the main attraction. To the north was Piermont’s eastern section along the now abandoned North and South Road. This road ran from Clay Hollow along the base of Piermont Mountain. The 1947 history of Piermont describes the road as once being the location of “many large farmsteads belonging to our early most prosperous citizens.” Farms in this section were very productive and in the 1840’s were being sold at high prices. “New purchasers of these farms were not equal in ability to the men whose places they had taken” This, along with other causes, brought about abandonment and the road was eventually discontinued. Just to the east in Warren was Charleston. William Little’s 1870 history of Warren describes that district: “Their buildings were good, their great barns were always filled with hay, and their sugar places were the best in town. But alas! All this has changed. The dwellers in the district by the lake are all dead, the houses and the barns have mouldered away, the spot where they stood can hardly be found, and the fields and the pastures are grown with forest trees.” The conditions in these locations are summed up in a 1905 comment about Benton by William F. Whitcher: “Some sections which were formerly settled and occupied by owners of farms are abandoned.” Across the river in Vermont, western sections of river towns suffered in a similar manner. Brushwood in the northwestern area of Fairlee was “so isolated” that in 1895 the district school had only one pupil. Portions of West Corinth declined in population. Bill Hodge of the Topsham Historical Society says that the area in Topsham near the Groton line, known as “the Territory,” once had as many as 24 farms, three schools and a hotel. It is empty now, as are several of the other most rural sections in Topsham. In Bradford, portions of Goshen, the South Road and Tarbox have their share of abandoned cellar holes and stonewall. All of these are representative of the decline of small hill farms and the reforestation of much of Vermont. In Newbury, the Lime Kiln district and the Grow and Dow neighborhoods along the Topsham border experienced both early growth and later decline. Wells’ History of Newbury states: “The farms that cling to the hills on the west are among the best in town.” Writing in 1902, Wells concludes, “that Newbury has shared in the depopulation of all hill towns in New England. There are more than 200 spots in town where houses once stood, and there are none now.” Two other neighborhoods that experienced booms were Copperfield in Vershire and Pike Hill in Corinth. Copper brought a large number of residents to these mining villages. Located along the road from West Fairlee to Strafford, Copperfield at its height had almost 1000 residents, a school, two churches, a store, barber and millinery shops, a library and meeting hall along with the facilities required for mining and smelting copper. The Pike Hill neighborhood was not as large as Copperfield, but did have a school and store along with a number of miners’ shanties. Both of these mining communities are completely abandoned. I will write more on mining in the area in a later column. In 1984, Hal S. Barron wrote a manuscript entitled “Those Who Stayed Behind.” In it he takes earlier observers to task for viewing these changes “in terms of extraordinary decline and decay.” He refutes any assumption that “the quality of life in Lyme [or the other towns in the area] went down hill along with its people.” He suggests that these were “expected characteristics of older agrarian societies.” Despite the decline in population, most area towns had agricultural and non-agricultural sections that continued to prosper. In many cases, farm production remained constant, especially in the intervales along the Connecticut. Village life in towns such as Lyme, Thetford, Newbury and Bradford was vibrant and growing. In the last two decades of the nineteenth century, Bradford village gained a new hotel, three major brick office buildings, factories and a new library and academy along with new sidewalks, water system and electric lights. Despite the title of this article, it is not exactly true that no one lived in some of these rural neighborhoods for very long. In response to the number of abandoned farms both Vermont and New Hampshire established programs to advertise available property. The targeted audiences included potential immigrants from northern Europe and Canada as well as the new leisure class of America’s cities. In one 1889 listing of abandoned farms for sale, four Orford and Piermont farms were offered for between $3 and $11 per acre. New Hampshire listed 1342 “abandoned farms with tenantable buildings” and Vermont listed more than 1000, over half, “with buildings that are in fair condition.” Abandoned pastures turned into second-growth forests, offering opportunities for the lumbering industry. Writing in 1886 on the condition of Vermont forests, Hiram A. Cutting concluded: “Springing up as it does on so many worn-out and abandoned farms, the white pine has made industry and wealth possible to many parts of the state which otherwise would have been wholly deserted.” By the early 1900’s, a slow turn around had begun. There was an increase in the number of immigrant farmers. The “back to the land movement” and the growth of the summer recreation industry created interest in rural property among urban members of the new middle class. The advent of the automobile and rural mail delivery followed by the spread of telephone, radio and electricity to rural sections brought new life to the hill country. Old farm houses that were purchased as vacation homes often became retirement homes for gentlemen farmers. In July, 1932 an article appeared in The United Opinion under the headline “Many Seek Summer Home Sites in Vermont.” Prompted by Dorothy Canfield’s publication Vermont Summer Homes, over 7500 inquiries had been received by the Vermont Bureau of Publicity from “outsiders looking for homes, permanent or temporary.” Over the past four decades, life has returned to many rural areas as the overall population of local towns reached new highs. In the late 60’s there was a resurgence of the “country life movement” that resulted in new residents, full or part-time. The extension of the interstate highway in the early 70’s allows young families to build in remote areas and work in larger communities. With capital from home sales to the south, retirees are able to purchase tracts of land for new homes, often with the most desirable mountain views. While not equaling the home building boom experienced by some other parts of the nation, all area towns have experienced new construction, often in neighborhoods that had been most depleted of population a century before. Additionally, the reforested areas offer hunters, hikers and outdoor enthusiasts ample opportunities for recreation. I am the descendant of many generations of New England farmers. Interest in the topic of depopulation was enhanced by my trek to an abandoned neighborhood on Hodge’s Hill adjacent to the West Topsham-East Orange road. There my great grandfather Coffin lived with his family just prior to the Civil War. All that remains of that small collection of hardscrabble farms are cellar holes, stone walls and overgrown orchards. Both my grandfathers were born on Vermont hill farms. The small farm on which my father was born in East Brookfield doesn’t appear to have a single flat acre. While I grew up in Fairlee and Orford villages, we owned a 300-acre farm in Archertown near Sunday Mountain in Orford. Most of it was hilly. It was there that I was personally introduced to the idea that the best annual crop was often stones. Being descended from those who struggled to pull a living from often unforgiving land gives one an appreciation for thrift, hard work and a good dose of stubborn determination. And those are traits worth honoring.

Send Out the Alarm!

Newbury Spared, Royalton Burned, In October 1780, a "Great Alarm" warned area
frontier communities of a threatened invasion by 300 natives and Tories from Canada. Warned that Newbury was on alert, the invaders veered west and attacked Royalton and Tunbridge. This engraving is from Gathering Sketches from the Early History of Vermont by Frances

Chase (1856) (Courtesy of John Dumville)

Bradford on Guard In January 1932, armed sentries were guarding Main Street in Bradford in the wake of anonymous threats to burn the area. This photograph appeared on the front page of The United Opinion and was taken by Clarence Finn of the Boston Post, one of three Boston newspaper that covered the threats. (Courtesy of the Bradford Public Library)

Topsham on Watch. During World War II, area citizens held air raid drills and manned obervation posts watching for invading airplanes. The lower photo show Gertrude Cilley and Hazel Colby manning the Waits River spotting post. These photos are taken from Topsham Sketches, courtesy of the Town of Topsham.

Vida Metcalf Perry-Munson displays the "Certificate of Honorable Service" presented to her in May, 1944 by the Army Air Force Fighter Command for her service as a volunteer in the Aircraft Warning Service. As a teenager, she was a spotter at the Erwin Worthley Farm on Taplin Hill in Corinth. Spotters such as Vida and her sister Eris Metcalf Eastman called in reports of airplanes during the early years of World War II.


As published in the Journal-Opinion, January 5, 2011

“War-Like Scene,” “Bradford, Vt., Armed Against Terrorist, Armed Camp” were the headlines in New England newspapers in the days following January 15, 1932. On that day, two Bradford businessmen had received anonymous letters revealing a plot to burn buildings on the east side of Main Street. The alleged motive was to collect insurance and clear land for a movie theatre. The wooden buildings in that section contained 17 businesses including the post office and were so tightly packed that a fire would endanger them all.

While some felt it was a hoax, the actions of a crank, many took it seriously and took preventive measures. This terror was heightened by reports that similar letters had been received in Haverhill, Orford, Lebanon and White River Junction and that fires had actually been reported in some of those towns.

The local American Legion provided uniformed armed sentries who, according to one newspaper, were under orders to fire at trespassers. The downtown block was illuminated with searchlights, front and back. Federal, state and local authorities were involved in the search for the writer of the letters that had been posted in Concord, NH.

The name of the local individual named in the letters as threatening to cause the havoc was not released. However, it was reported that “he” had met with Village Trustees and offered to both cancel the fire insurance on his downtown property and offer a $200 reward for the letter writer’s identity.

For several weeks the town’s residents were on edge. It was later revealed that an arrest was made, and that the motive was a personal grudge against the individual named in the letters. Neither the name of that individual nor the accuser were revealed in local newspaper reports. Dr. James Barton states that he is “100% sure” the businessman was his immigrant father, Charles Barton, and that the motive was to discredit him.

This was neither the first time nor the last that the residents of our area experienced the terror coming from the threat of attack. In some cases, the threat of local attacks was real and in others only precautionary. Rumors and misinformation inflated actual dangers, increasing the perceived threats of attack. These threats would stretch from the earliest days of settlement through the years of the Cold War and include the danger from tomahawks and muskets to bombers and intercontinental ballistic missiles.

As some area towns celebrate the 250th anniversary of their chartering this year, it is well to remember that the earliest settlers lived on a dangerous frontier. They were familiar with the terror of earlier attacks by the French and their native allies. The outbreak of the American Revolution in 1775 brought a succession of alarms for area residents.

During the earliest years of the Revolution, residents believed they were on the invasion route from Canada to Massachusetts. In Orford, a guardhouse was built behind the present Masonic Hall for scouts on guard for an enemy invasion. Haverhill built four stockades to provide a secure place for citizens in case of attack. With many men leaving to join the revolutionary army, the area felt increased vulnerable. The fall of Fort Ticonderoga to the British in 1777, “caused great consternation” in surrounding communities. Colonel Israel Morey of Orford summed up that fear in a July, 1777 letter: “Our Frontier Towns are really in a dangerous and critical situation. We are entirely laid open to the sudden attack…” The American victories that summer reduced immediate fears.

While a major invasion did not take place, the fears never really went away. In October, 1780 there was a “Great Alarm” as 300 natives and Tories made plans to attack Newbury in retaliation for the death of a British general. Wells’ Newbury history states, “Terror magnified the invading force into an army.” Being warned that Newbury was anticipating an attack, the force veered west and attacked Royalton and Tunbridge instead. While the war subsided elsewhere after 1781, this area experienced a succession of alarms over the final two years of the war. Actions by Tories kept the nerves of the residents on edge.

In the 19th century, area residents experienced alarm both individually and as communities. The proximity of the British during the War of 1812, the frequency of major unexplained epidemics and the episodes of barn-burning, created alarm. Then Civil War brought with it fears for both the future of the nation and the safety of the men who joined the service. The attack on St. Albans in October, 1864 caused rumors that Confederates lurked over the border intent on invading Vermont. Additionally, there were the cycles of economic panic and fears some residents experienced as new immigrants moved to the area, endangering established ways.

The wars of the 20th century brought new threats to the area. When America joined the war against Germany in 1917, there were fears of sabotage throughout the nation. Locally, the most vulnerable strategic target was the Valley’s railroad. It carried the troop trains filled with members of the American Expeditionary Force on their way to Quebec where they would embark for Europe over the shortest ocean route. Detachments of troops were posted to guard bridges in Bradford and Wells River. Bradford historian Harold Haskins, himself a soldier in the war, wrote of fear that these bridges, “might fall victim of German saboteurs eager to slow up our country’s preparation for war by crippling our transportation lines.” They did not.

Protected by two oceans, the fighting of World War I seemed safely far away. That feeling was shattered by the attack on Pearl Harbor in December, 1941. As our region is less than 100 miles from the Atlantic Ocean, area residents joined national defense preparations. A Civilian Air Raid Warning Defense system was organized. In this area, civilian volunteers manned observation posts and trained as civilian defense wardens. Reports in The United Opinion told of state-wide preparation for the dangers of air raids. It quoted one state official: “The front lines in a modern war can be our own back yard.”


Towns in the area held trial blackouts. It was felt that village lights along the Connecticut River might guide invading planes toward possible targets. Woodsville held one in December, 1941. In early April, 1942 Bradford held its first blackout. There were warning blasts from the whistles at the Vaneer mill and the Vermont Dairy Co. along with the continuous ringing of one of the church bells. In August, both Vermont and New Hampshire held state-wide drills, with area towns participating in both. In November, Bradford had its first day-time mock raid with three planes buzzing the village creating simulated casualties and damage.

While few really expected such an attack, they were determined to be prepared for “whatever may come.” That preparation also helped to create a sense of participation by the civilian population in this total war. The paper encouraged volunteers to be trained and ready in the case of emergency. “America is calling! Take your place in the local defense effort” read one front-page article. Additional articles gave details for blackouts. They encouraged residents to know the rules, take simple precautions for the safety of family and property, and, above all, in the case of an actual attack, “Don’t lose your head. Panic hurts more people than bombs.”

Like the scouts of earliest days, observers watched for the enemy. They were trained to identify different aircraft and report the direction of their flight. In Topsham, the posts were at the Kenneth Batten farm and on the current Welch Road; in Haverhill one was near the County Road; in Newbury on Leighton Hill. Most were manned in shifts 24-hours a day even before it was announced that Germany was producing bombers capable of crossing the Atlantic to drop a 7000 pound bomb load. These watches were taken seriously.

Wallace Ragan of Lyme recently told me he was only 8 years old when he became an observer at the post on the hill east of the Lyme Common. Officials apparently want “young ears that might hear better.” Corinth also used young spotters at the Taplin Hill post. Ragan said the observation post had an old crank phone for reporting sightings. The older men whiled away the time with cribbage and checkers. He felt that the officer training facility at Dartmouth College and the tool industry in Windsor and Springfield were possible targets. By late 1943, the danger of attack by air was lessened and the shifts were cut back. While the anxiety over attack subsided, fears for the safety of hundreds of area residents in the service did not.

When World War II ended with the defeat of Germany and Japan, America enjoyed a brief respite from alarm. Then the Soviet Union “got the bomb,” bringing with it new fears. The Cold War’s arms race between the two nations meant the menace of nuclear weapons and mass casualties and destruction. The threat of atomic weapons being delivered by intercontinental bombers was eventually replaced by missiles with nuclear warheads. With the attitude that nuclear war was inevitable if not imminent, Civil Defense officials took actions to prepare the civilian population.



In 1950, a pamphlet entitled “Survival Under Atomic Attack” was sent to millions of homes, including those in our area. Individuals were encouraged to build air raid shelters and stockpile emergency provisions. Fairlee Civil Defense leader Lee Chapman notified residents of a program to secure dog tags to help identify victims in case of an attack.

As an elementary student at the Orfordville School, I recall being led through “duck and cover” drills. This was part of a national program that was supposed to protect school children in the event of an unexpected nuclear attack. At first, we were instructed to duck under our desks. Later, we were told that sitting on the floor in the hallway offered a better protection. Avoid under all circumstances looking at the “flash” created by a nuclear explosion.

The McCarthy era brought with it the prospect of communist spies and sympathizers in our midst. An April, 1949 political cartoon in the Opinion showed Uncle Sam rooting out communist spy rings. I recall suspicions being raised against those with a foreign accent, especially if they drew their shades at night! The authors of Freedom and Unity report that there were some who felt that Vermont had “been chosen as a testing ground for communist infiltration” and called for investigations of suspects. Others disagreed and resisted “threats to individual liberties and communal trust.”

In August 1950, the police were called to the Bradford Inn to investigate a stranger with a foreign-sounding name, “who was overheard to mention Communism in his talk.” A tongue-in-cheek article in the Opinion entitled “SSSHHH! Spies At Work” assured readers that not only was the stranger not a spy but that Bradford was probably not “Joe Stalin’s prime objective if the cold war gets hot.” Frank Bryan wrote that one Vermont editor reacted to any Communist threat to take over Vermont with the statement “Anyone who tries to bore from within in Vermont is going to strike granite.”

It is important to recall that the national witch hunt that destroyed the reputation of numerous citizens was condemned early by Senators George Aiken and Ralph Flanders of Vermont.

In 1953, the Ground Observation Corps reestablished the sky observation posts in several area towns. Meetings were held with Air Force technicians training local observers from Bradford, Fairlee, Wells River and East Topsham, “together with other patriotic citizens who wish to aid.” An appeal for volunteers read: “We are in a dangerous position. In a period of international strife and lawlessness, we stand as the bulwark of freedom. The next time an aggressor strikes, he will strike at us to try and eliminate us so that he can go on to conquer the world.”

In June 1954, there was a 48-hour test of these local defenses against enemy attack. This was part of a nationwide Operation Sky Scan to determine the capabilities of the observers in detecting invading planes. Bombers from Grenier AFB in Manchester took the part of enemy planes, flying low over the area. This test was followed by a more wide-ranging exercise a week later with local police and firemen stopping traffic, getting people off the streets and dealing with “simulated casualties.”

As each nation stockpiled its nuclear arms the policy of “mutually assured destruction” (MAD) meant that a nuclear war would be one without winners. Apocalyptic novels and films such as Tomorrow (1954), On the Beach (1957) and Alas, Babylon (1959) brought home the fears of nuclear annihilation. Children who grew up in that period reported recurring nightmares of invasion and war. The Cuban Missile Crisis of October 1962 heightened the possibility of nuclear Armageddon. There was a run on local stores as residents’ stockpiled necessities. Members of my college fraternity went home, saying that if war was imminent, they wanted to be with their families.

This was an era that more than half of us know only as history. However, on September 11, 2001, the feelings of alarm were again brought home. The nation was under attack and for a time, we did not know the extent of those attacks. Since then, national security, code alerts, and terrorist plots have increased latent fears for our personal and national safety.

Do these fears replicate for local citizens the fears felt by earlier residents who knew danger lurked in the forests surrounding their small settlements, or the fears from German bombers in 1942 or the nightmares of nuclear annihilation? That is a question each individual must answer. And it is not a question that will go away any time soon.