Take A Walk

Journal Opinion
August 8, 2012

Located on the sidewalk just south of The Local Buzz, this marker indicates ground zero for the property boundaries in this section of Bradford village. It marks the center of the old elm tree that blew down in 1903. (JO Photo by Michelle Sherburne) 



Looks Like Permanent. The Newbury history indicates that the Village of Wells River did not vote for “permanent sidewalks” until the 1920’s. This pre-1892 photograph shows sidewalks along that village’s main thoroughfare. (Horace Symes)

 Orford Grand Mall Walk in 1910. Created in the early 1800s, this mile-long walk along Orford’s Main Street mall has been described as “a living memorial of the public spirit and liberality of those who made it.” In 2006, a grant allowed it to be restored by Orford volunteers. It is probably the earliest village sidewalk in the area and certainly the loveliest.





Bradford Sidewalks in the 1850s. Sidewalks run along side white fences and hitching posts on the main street of Bradford in this early photograph. The second building from the left is the Bottle Shop. (Bradford Historical Society)










“Most of us take sidewalks for granted. Sidewalks seem to be the epitome of mundane. Sure, there are pretty sidewalks, ugly sidewalks, dirt ‘sidewalks’ and places without sidewalks, but for the most part, underfoot means out of mind.”

This is how Brian Michael Lione describes sidewalks in his 1999 article “Sidewalks: Ignored Aspects of Everyday Life.” He goes on to say that sidewalk history is “difficult to pin down.” This column deals with the history of sidewalks in our region. The information comes from local histories and records and old photographs of area villages.

Sidewalks and walkways occur primarily in population centers. There is no need for them on rural dirt roads. In the late 19th and early 20th centuries, legal entities, such as the villages of Bradford, Wells River and Newbury and the fire district of Woodsville, were created to provide services, such as sidewalks, needed by those who live in clustered areas.

Sidewalks on village streets with their higher traffic volume provided both safe and cleaner paths for pedestrians. They linked village homes with downtown business streets. A testimony to the degree to which dwellers were willing to walk to services is shown by the lack of parking for carriages or autos in the initial plans for the Bradford Public Library in 1895.

Probably one of the earliest and certainly the most attractive sidewalk is located along the mall in Orford. Located along the eastern side of what is now Route 10, the mall was created in the early 1800s on land owned by John Mann and Samuel Morey and the town common.

In 1865, Joel Mann described it as “one mile long--straight as a house floor-- straight as a line, and skirted with trees on both sides…note-worthy a feature of this village.” Granite posts were set up along the walk to prevent driving along the mall on “muddy days when people might be tempted to avoid the rutted road for a smoother surface. The posts were placed three in a row, one on either side of the walk and one, a veritable barrier, in the center of the walk.”

An early letter in the Boston Evening Traveller described the mall as “the chief ornament of this village, and is a lasting memorial of the public spirit and liberality of those who made it. In that spirit it should be carefully preserved and kept in perfect order.” The mall walk is still on a combination of public and private property and in 2006 a group of volunteers, working with a transportation grant, restored it. It continues to function as the lasting memorial it was meant to be and provides enjoyment to its users.

Some of the earliest sidewalks were planked. Photographs show what appears to be a plank sidewalk up Bradford’s Bank Street and along the road to the Bradford railroad station in the 1890s. In 1892, a plank sidewalk connected the schoolhouse and the church in Haverhill Corner. Groton had some planked sidewalks until 1904. Some sections of the walks in Newbury village were also planked.

In other early villages such as Fairlee, West Fairlee, Post Mills, East Corinth, Warren and Piermont, walkways were packed dirt or crushed stone. Some appear to be well laid out and well kept, whereas others appear to be mere paths of convenience created by walkers seeking safe and convenient routes.

In 1898, Fairlee officials dealt with the increased number of bikers by widening the walks “as it is quite dusty for ladies to ride on the main road.” Photographs show established walks on both sides of Fairlee’s Main Street from Bridge Street south.

Some photographs also show packed crosswalks, stepping stones or planks across main streets and gutters, designed to keep boots and lengthy ladies skirts out of the mud and muck of dirt roads. In the case of several villages, gas lamps and hitching posts were sidewalk amenities.

When there was a period of building and street construction, these earlier sidewalks were often replaced with concrete. Between 1888 and 1896 new sidewalks were built in the village of North Haverhill. The new Woodsville Fire District built concrete sidewalks along Central Street in 1888 and extended them along other village streets over the next four years. Much of this work was accomplished by S. D. Tilton, concrete paver of Woodsville. A 1907 photograph of South Ryegate shows a nice sidewalk along Pleasant Street.

Some villages put off creating more elaborate sidewalks. Although early photographs of Wells River show footpaths and then sidewalks, the Newbury history states that Wells River did not vote to make “permanent sidewalks” until the 1920’s, a project not accomplished until 1934. Between 1926 and 1930, Newbury Village replaced their older sidewalks with concrete, “the cost [of which was] shared by landowners and the village” augmented by private donations.

Some bridges also had walkways. In 1917, the new bridge between Wells River and Woodsville featured a six-foot wide sidewalk. In 1925, a covered walkway was attached to the north side of the 1856 covered bridge between Fairlee and Orford. When that bridge was replaced with the Samuel Morey Memorial Bridge in 1938, a walkway was included. The iron bridge built by the Village of Bradford in 1910 near the grist mill also had a walkway as does the 1938 concrete replacement.

The recurring discussions that often accompanied plans to ask taxpayers to fund sidewalk construction are exemplified by a closer examination of the history of sidewalks in the Village of Bradford. Even before the Village was created in 1890, the Selectmen had authorized new concrete sidewalks to be built in front of the new brick buildings.

The village residents then authorized the building of additional sidewalks on most of the village streets. The United Opinion of July 17, 1896 states that “work on the sidewalk is being pushed. This is a much needed link in the system.”

But by 1927 these sidewalks were in poor shape. A poem entitled “Sidewalks” which appeared on the front page of the November 4, 1927 edition of The United Opinion began with the following: “The sidewalks, oh the sidewalks that they laid in ‘ninety six. Had grown old and rough and narrow and in an awful fix.” It went on to describe the difficulties caused by the trees that had “sent in their roots like drills, and raised the concrete surface up and formed it into hills.”

“Our shoes” it described “were filled with water, our feet were wet and cold, And in language strong and forceful we scored the sidewalks old.”

In January 1927, the Village voters authorized $23,225 for a village sewer system, but a separate article relative to sidewalks was dismissed. As the sewer project proceeded, it was realized that money would be left over. A special village meeting was held to raise an additional $5,000 to hire the same construction company to repair and replace the sidewalks.

The local newspaper gave editorial support, saying that with these repairs “we will have reason to feel proud when referring to our village as ‘Bradford the Beautiful.’ ” The author of the aforementioned poem wrote “To walk is now a pleasure, but though the walking’s great/ We’ll get there if we ‘choose to run’ in nineteen twenty-eight…Of course no one of us expects these walks can always stay, But we can’t either, so enjoy and use them while we may.”

And, of course, they didn’t stay. By 1946 the village sidewalks were again in poor shape. The Village Trustees proposed a bond vote of about $40,000 to repair three and one-half miles of sidewalk. In the discussion, special concerns were raised about the safety of school children walking on unsafe sidewalks. The bond vote passed by a vote of 202 to 15. The United Opinion editorialized “We won’t have to feel ashamed or apologize for our abominable sidewalks much longer.”

The work was finished in the summer of 1947. The construction company offered to do driveway work at the owner’s expense. There were some concerns over the need for “city-like sidewalks” and questions raised about the need for a sidewalk up Peters’ Hill to the new catholic church. Since there were plans to rebuild that portion of Route 5, that sidewalk was delayed.

Wear and weather continued to wreck havoc on these sidewalks and by the early 1990s concerns about unsafe sidewalks were raised again. The voters of the Village created a revolving fund for sidewalk repairs and contributed $50,000 to it annually. Contractor Norman Allen drew up a preliminary repairs and replacement plan at a cost of $194,000.

A seven-part plan for spending $223,389 in sidewalk, street and water repairs was put to a bond vote in February, 1995. The Journal Opinion, which had referred to the “nagging problems of the village sidewalks,” favored of the bond. “The streets and sidewalks in the village area are a continuing sore thumb. Patching them up won’t do it, they need to be rebuilt. And if the work is done piecemeal or held back for a year or two, the cost will be even greater.”

With only 68 votes cast, the portions of the sidewalk repairs on Main, South Main and South Pleasant were defeated whereas the reconstruction of North Pleasant and High streets was accepted. Further, no sidewalk was added to High Street as the residents had lobbied against having something they had not had or needed. Over the next 20 years, federal and state grants were used to complete several of the defeated projects.

Additional grants and local appropriations built new sidewalks on Barton Street, from Barton to the newly refurbished grist mill and up Fairground Road to the Bradford Elementary School. That one was later extended to Elizabeth’s Park. Outside the village Route 5 has been widened walking and biking. In 2004 the merger of the Village and Town of Bradford placed the responsibility for all Bradford sidewalks under the jurisdiction of the Bradford Selectboard.

There are cracks and upheavals on the sidewalks of Bradford again. Some have been deemed compromised by underground delivery vaults to Main Street stores. Some have been completely removed by the current water project. Those will be replaced by the construction company by late fall. Several months ago I observed civil engineer Thomas Bigelow taking measurements of the sidewalks on the east side of the business district near the North of the Falls store in anticipation of additional replacements.

I asked him to notice the special marker that had been placed in the sidewalk in the 1930’s. It is the top of a pipe that marks the location of the historic elm tree that had stood at that location since the early years of the town’s settlement. That tree, which was used as a boundary marker for many of the building lots in the business district, fell down in 1903.

At that time a metal marker was placed at the location of the center of the tree stump. As the president of the Bradford Historical Society I wanted to be assured that a replacement marker would be part of any rebuilt sidewalk.

The sidewalks and pathways of the area seem busy with walkers, in groups, with dogs or alone. Joggers run past those enjoying a more leisurely pace. Sidewalks are also where children enjoy biking, being pushed in strollers, hauled in wagons or playing games outlined with chalk. In some communities, they are being made safer by the Safe Routes to School programs. They are a meeting place for conversations between friends and neighbors. Stores use them to display goods, daily or during special events. It is on the sidewalks of my village that I am amazed at both the number of folks I recognize and the number I don’t.

Yes, it may be true that to some “underfoot means out of mind,” except perhaps when the way is broken and dangerous, icy or messy with the deposits from dogs with irresponsible owners. But for me they are pathways to freedom from the automobile, relaxing walks for our health and that of our dog, routes to new places or favorite sites and especially a town’s history.

(Editor’s note Additional essays by this author can be found in the newly-published In Times Past: Essays From the Upper Valley, Book Two available at local outlet to benefit the Bradford Public Library)

What Ails You?

Journal Opinion
July 18, 2012

The headstone for Dr. Nathan McKinstry is located in the Oxbow Cemetery in Newbury.  One of Newbury's first doctors, he died Feb.6, 1815 at age 41.  The inscription on the headstone, worn by time and acid rain, reads: "In-urned beneath lies no poor worthless quack. But the ashes of good Dr.Mac, Whose talents, honors, virtues, could not save, His generous bosom from an early grave."

Dr. Nathan Smith, pictured in this painting, was the founder of Dartmouth Medical School.  This school was the 4th in the nation and recently changed its name to the Geisel School of Medicine (Courtesy of the Geisel School of Medicine)

This is one of serveral patent medicines developed by Dr. Samuel Hardy of Cornish Flats, NH.  This promotion dates to 1836.  Patent medicines such as this often contained morphine and alcohol.



Green Mountain Balm of Gilead: Developed by M.K. Paine of Windsor, VT, this cedar plaster was guaranteed "unequalied in removing pain, internal inflammations, curing lameness" and a whole list of additional aliments.  



Doctors in Vermont carry on a practice over a radius of twenty miles, frequently being obliged to drive through eight feet of snow in order to reach their patients and find it necessary at times to dig their horses out of drifts, before they could proceed.”

This is Rudyard Kipling’s description of the 19th century conditions facing some of the doctors he observed during his stay in Vermont. This column describes the medical practices in our region from the period of settlement to 1860. It draws on local histories, internet sources and the history of the medical profession found in The Vermont of Today by Arthur Stone.

Early residents of the area lived in constant fear of illness or accident. While not as frequent as in the South or in the nation’s cities, epidemics increased local death rates. Local cemeteries are filled with the victims of both epidemics and endemic diseases. The average life expectancy in 1850 was under 40 years of age, brought low by a high infant mortality rate. Poor sanitation practices spread many diseases. War injuries brought their own special problems, often overwhelming the medical help available.

Many believed that illness was a punishment for sin. Believers relied on prayers for God’s intercession as a cure. This was especially true in the face of epidemics when days of fasting and prayer were observed. Governors proclaimed fast days in New Hampshire as early as 1680 and although it had lost its original purpose, Fast Day remained an April holiday in that state until 1991.

Despite their best practices or because of them, physicians were largely helpless in the face of illness. Orthodox medicine was based on tenets passed down over the previous two thousand years. It was believed that illness was caused by an imbalance of the humors in the body. The doctor’s duty was to restore those humors by bleeding, blistering or purging, techniques that killed as often as cured. The number of medicines was few and the same medications were often used for a variety of afflictions.

Many doctors learned their profession by serving as an apprentice to a practicing physician. A few received their training in Europe or at one of three American colleges that offered medical schools. In 1797, Dr. Nathan Smith petitioned the Trustees of Dartmouth College for the establishment of a medical school.  Nathaniel Niles of West Fairlee was appointed as a committee of one to investigate the proposition and after one day of thought, recommended that the Board adopt the idea.  Smith remained the sole instructor at the school until 1810 and was recognized as being “well ahead of his time in insisting that doctors practice watchful waiting and emphasizing patient-centered care.”

In 1804, Dr. John Pomeroy began teaching medical students in Burlington, an effort that led to the establishment of UVM’s College of Medicine in 1822. Two other colleges offering medical degrees were Castleton Medical College (1818-1862) and Vermont Clinical School of Medicine in Woodstock (1827-1861). In 1887 a short-lived bogus medical school was organized in Newbury, VT, providing licenses that were sold to individuals hoping to practice medicine in the West.

Each town’s history mentions the physicians who served their community during the period following settlement. In some cases a single physician served alone whereas, in other towns there was competition. Some were well trained, competent for the times, highly respected and served their community for decades. Others were short on some or all of these characteristics. Early physicians included Drs. Samuel Putnam of Topsham, Bildad Andross, Frederick Aubry and John Poole of Bradford, Eli Perry of Ryegate, Eliphalet Kimball of Orford and Adoniram Smalley of Lyme.

Several local histories mention Dr. Samuel White of Newbury and Haverhill, who began his local practice in 1773, “and for years was the doctor of the Connecticut Valley, his ride extending from Newbury to the Canadian border.” He was dedicated to his practice. He was quoted as saying “he had poor luck with his patients in their last illness.”

White’s diaries mention his fees as follows: “The least charge for a visit is one shilling and the greatest (to Upper Coos) is sixty shillings…medicine was usually one shilling for each potion, occasionally two shillings; bleeding was always one shilling; tooth pulling, one shilling; dressing a wound, one shilling, lancing a sore, one shilling; setting an arm or a leg, six shillings; attendance on your wife in travel [travail] twelve shillings.” The weather, difficulty of the journey, urgency of the call and the financial condition of the patient played a role in the amount charged.

Actually the birthing process prior to the mid-19th century, was one with only female relatives, neighbors and midwives attending. No females were allowed to practice as a physician. Two midwives, Lydia Peters Baldwin of Orford and Bradford and Bathsheba Wallace of Thetford competently served the area for decades following settlement. Each assisted in the birthing of hundreds of babies, traveling by horseback to neighboring towns regardless of time or weather. They charged a few shillings and were often paid in goods or services rather than hard money. Their record of success was difficult for physicians to replicate when the practice of midwifery was replaced by the male-dominated medical profession’s control of delivery.

Life for doctors on the frontier was “fraught with many hardships, difficulties and even dangers.” It was not unknown for a doctor to become lost or attacked by wolves when traveling to a bedside in winter, often on snowshoes,. Doctors were not immune to the illnesses they treated. Dr. Nathan McKinstry, one of Newbury’s first doctors, died at 41 in 1815. His headstone in the Oxbow Cemetery bears the following epitaph: “In-urned beneath lies no poor worthless quack. But the dear ashes of good Dr. Mc, Whose talents, honors, virtues, could not save His generous bosom from an early grave.” That same year Dr. Lemuel Wellman of Piermont went to Warren to care for spotted fever victims, “took the disease and died in four hours.”

Because contagious diseases spread rapidly in early communities, quarantine was used. In 1792 a smallpox epidemic led Newbury to vote to “see if the town will open a pest house.” In many cases a family would be quarantined in their own home. In 1790, Dr. Isaac Moore of Haverhill attempted to open a house for smallpox inoculation in Bath. This technique used the smallpox virus to try to prevent the disease, but often caused a fatal case instead. At first there was such strong feeling against it that the half-completed building was torn down, but it was subsequently rebuilt.

From contact with Native Americans, both doctors and the general public learned of the medicinal properties of plants not found in Europe. Stone quotes one doctor who supplemented his pharmacology from the fields and woods and said “Indian hemp was good for dropsy, spigot root for internal bruises, the bark of the red willow a sure remedy for fever and ague, burdock root with black cherry and white ash bark steeped in cider the very best remedy for spring jaundice.”

Many residents also relied on home remedies, some of which may have actually had curative properties. Vinegar and honey were recognized as helpful both as a cure and for maintaining good health. Garlic clove for insect bite and spruce gum for a toothache were said to be helpful. Egg white was known for extracting a splinter.

On the other hand, cures for consumption did little good. Some Grafton County residents believed that if the lungs of a consumption victim were burned, the ashes will cure other members of the family with the disease. Carrying a small potato in your pocket or wrapping the affected limb in the skin of an eel to prevent rheumatism was equally unsuccessful. Binding a piece of peppered salt pork or a nutmeg to the throat was suggested to cure a sore throat. Skunk oil was touted as a cure for chest congestion for infants and adults. Asthma could be cured by using the root of skunk cabbage.

In 1805 the Boston Weekly Magazine reported that a Miss Everts in Vermont “was lately poisoned by a villainous quack” and that her death ought to be a warning to all persons who “are disposed to employ the numerous nostrum mongers with which our country is unfortunately swarmed.”

Bradford’s National Opinion in the 1860’s carried ads for locally produced Doty’s Mandrake Bitters. It was “warranted to be the best compound ever offered to the public for the cure of Dyspepsia, Jaundice, Costiveness, Piles, Sick Headaches, Morning Sickness, Humors Morning Sickness, Foul Stomach, Liver Complaints in all its forms; General Disability, Worms, etc. etc.”

Doty’s was one of many patent medicines to which many turned in the face of so many conditions that were not helped by the medicines available. While some may have actually helped, others were either harmful or harmless. Some, such as Doty’s, were produced by local pharmacists, but others were sold by quacks and fast-talking snake oil salesmen.

Medical Societies were formed in Vermont in 1784 and in New Hampshire in 1791. While their efforts encouraged better education and licensing they also supported orthodox medicine to the discouragement of other practices. Licensing became less popular in the 1830’s as many considered it a violation of the new spirit of personal freedom.

From 1838 to 1876 there was no licensing of doctors in Vermont. This reopened the door to a number of competing theories of medicine, some with a basis in the science of the day and others practiced by charlatans. The 1849 Medical and Surgical Reporter described a Vermont medical prophet who healed the disease of patients at a distance, “provided they send him their symptoms and the required fee.”

One alternative that had many followers during the period was Thomsonian medicine. It was developed by New Hampshire herbalist Samuel Thomson. His methods rejected the dangerous and futile methods used by “qualified” physicians in favor of botanical remedies coupled with water treatments. Despite being dubbed as quackery, it was very popular in the 1830’s and Thomsonian societies and periodicals were created.

Another alternative was hydropathy, the drinking or bathing in the waters of mineral springs. It almost seemed the worse the taste and smell, the more beneficial the waters were considered. In 1804 Newbury’s Spring Hotel allowed its patrons to take advantage of the adjacent Montebello sulphur and iron springs for “curative purposes.” Nearby, on Montebello Road, was the Newbury Sulphur Springs and Bathing Establishment.

It was not until the mid-19th century that general anesthesia was being used for surgery and even later before modern antiseptics were standard practice. There were no general hospitals in the area until Mary Hitchcock opened in 1897 and Cottage in 1903. Until the Vermont Asylum for the Insane opened in Brattleboro in 1843 and the New Hampshire Asylum opened in Concord in 1842 there was little help for the mentally ill. Health regulations were in the hands of local authorities until State Boards of Health were established in New Hampshire in 1881 and in Vermont in 1886.

Health issues and medical practices, and their availability, are uppermost in the minds of many in today’s world. Obviously much has improved since the years prior to 1860. We live longer and healthier lives. Modern science creates a vast array of weapons available to the modern physician and hospital. Bleeding of patients or brutal surgery without modern anesthesia or antiseptics are just two of the traditional medical practices we can be grateful that modern medicine no longer uses. Those who yearn for the good old days of times past would do well to recall that, at least in the field of health, they were not all so good.

Bradford's Civil War Cemetery Tour

This month I led three Civil War Cemetery tours at Bradford’s Upper Plain Cemetery in connection with the Bradford Public Library summer reading program. Here are my notes and some of the sites we visited.

Bradford sent 158 men to the Union forces in the Civil War. Vermont sent 34,000 out of a population of 350,000 of which died from 1832 died from wounds and 3662 from diseases and other causes. Some enlisted, others drafted, and others were substitutes for those who didn’t want to go. Bradford’s men were privates and officers, some became prisoners, were killed or wounded and other probably suffered from invisible wounds. Some joined Vermonters and others served in other state regiments. Some saw major battles and or participated in the hundred of smaller ones. Some were soldiers or sailors, others worked in support positions. They were in the infantry, artillery, navy, marines and cavalry. Before going and after returning they were farmers, papermakers, teachers, merchants and businessmen, clerks and loafers. These are some of the headstones found in the Upper Plain Cemetery. Many are cenotaphs, empty graves.

William P. Manson died June 14,1864 at Andersonville Prison (GA) cenotaph. Captured at Strawberry Bank TN Jan 22, 1864 (diarrhea) A-33-52 Also Albert Butler age 18 Early in the war parole was practiced. 1 capt= 60 privates. Then both sides set up a system of prisons. Camp Sumter at Andersonville GA operated for 14 months on 27 acres. The prison population was 32,000 at one time, total 45,000, 13,000 died in absolute hellish conditions.


David H. Winship (large new stone-B52) Co. F 9th NH Vol. Wounded at Antietam (Sharpsburg. Maryland) Lee’s invasion of the north, September 17, 1862 died Nov.14, 1862 Generally bodies were not shipped home until Dr. Thomas Holmes technique of embalming began on the battlefield, zinc lined casket, $50 for officers $25 privates, northern only, cost a hardship for families. Soldiers began to wear privately purchased dog tags or pinning cards on their uniforms before battles to help with identification.

Charles A. Smith (B-18) drafted, 8/4/63 private 4th Vt. Infantry 24 year old single farmer when drafted. KIA 6/21/64 maybe in the western Virginia’s campaign, Epitaph: “God is with the right and sooner or later, the right must prevail. God help me to be ever in the right”

Charles H. Brown.  Stone indicates he was just over 15 at time he was killed on September 26, 1864.  He was a member of Co I, 17th vermont Regiment.  "Thou has taken you away From those that hold thee dear.  May God bind up those broken hearts  And wipe away the tears."
Private Amos B. Chase (new stone B 69 ) Co. H 2nd Reg Berdan’s Sharpshooters, Joined Nov. 30, 1863 Killed June 18, 1864. Seige of Petersburg VA. Bradford’s only sharpshooter. Snipers or sharpshooter (named for the use of Sharp’s rifles) dark green uniforms, Test for inclusion: 10 freestanding 10” circle 100’, lying down 10 at 200’. Their duty very dangerous. Had a demoralizing impact on the enemy.

Benjamin Underwood…age 23 lst Vermont soldier to die…Fortress Monroe, VA, died of measles , age 20. May 20, 1861 (cenotaph) C 14 (back of D. Farr stone) (just 12 days after being mustered in)

Charles C. Woodworth, wounded at Charleston VA, Died of wounds on August 27, 1864 @ 19 years of age. Member of Battery I, Vermont Heavy Artillery C 45



Lt .Col. Dudley Andross (established Bradford family) He had done well in the gold fields of California. Captain of Bradford Guard, 1861 (Participated in the Battle of Big Bethel) & 9th Vermont Volunteers…. Bradford residents sent him a white horse in Brattleboro. C 59

Moody C. Martin, Private Company B, 6th Vermont Regiment reenlisted …along with two brothers (Harrison and Remembrance) Killed at Battle of the Wilderness on May 5, 1864 (deadliest day for Vermonters ever) (cenotaph) D 113 (of 1681 men, 189 killed or wounded, 189 died of disease 22 other from imprisonment etc. (1234 killed or wounded that day) Most costly battle of the war….one Vermont brigade lost 1645 of its 2100 men during the week of fighting

George W. Martin, enlisted Nov. 12, 1862, about 13 years of age, ( misrepresented his age as 18-19) Company G, 10th Vermont Volunteers. Wounded. When he died in the 1930s he was the last member of the Bradford GAR. D 147.May be the youngest Vermonter to serve.

George B. Worthen (B-1) anchor on stone//joined navy in 1856 sailed along the coast of Africa as corporal of marines/ reenlisted wounded at the battle of Roanoke Island, Feb 8, 1862, but later took part in engagement with Merrimack, head wounds, lung and ribs transferred to Naval Hospital, released and returned to Bradford, died Sept. 15, 1863

Cyrus Conant Farnham A-2-14 was member of the Military Telegraphic Dept….That department and the messages they sent importance to commanders, Coded messages often decreased the impact of wiretapping, died on Feb. 25, 2863 of typhoid fever in Tennessee.

Colonel Roswell Farnham, Bradford Guard, May 1861 later 12th Vermont Regiment, Governor of Vermont 1880-82’s. Businessman. F-2-117

Colonel John Chandler Stearns,(1831-1914. During Lee’s first invasion of the north Stonewall Jackson attacked the Union troops at Harper’s Ferry… General Dixon Miles in dereliction of duty allowed troops to surrendered (12, 419 were the largest force of Americans to surrender until WW 2 Dudley Andross also part of that group…exchanged at did guard duty at Chicago, Mustered out in 1863. (Cannon Balls) F-2-166

Oscar Crosby Navy (1847-1917) called a landsman because he had never been on the ocean. He served on several ships,(probably on blockade dury and served as a carpenter’s mate. He was discharged in August 1865…came home and married Addie Rowell in 1868 and farmed in Thetford/West Fairlee and Bradford died here in 1917

Preston S. Chamberlin (cannon balls) part of Bradford Guard, May , 1861, later Lt/ Col. Company H, 12th Vermont K-8-410 Company H did guard duty around Washington, repelled Stuart’s advances to the Capital, also guarded railroads, ammunition wagons and prisoners. no battle deaths, 63 from disease with 4 desertions. Later became very involved in community representing Bradford in the Legislature and serving as trustee of the BA(buried here)



Calista Robinson Jones, National President of the Women’s Relief Corps c. 1901. K-7-409 The organization was the women’s auxiliary of the GAR (Grand Army of the Republic). During her service in the organization the national headquarters was located at her home in Bradford. She worked to have the Andersonville site made a national landmark and have Flag Day made a holiday. The organization worked to help orphans and widows as well as injured veterans.

Portraits, Landscapes and Still Lifes

June 20, 2012

Rufus Porter Mural.  Called the most "note worthy mural painter in the history of American Art," Porter' works are found in a number of area 19th century homes.  This one is found in the 1811 Moses Kent House on the River Road in Lyme, NH,  (Photo by Larry Coffin)

Fall Church.  This 1948 painting of the Orford Congregational Church by local impressionist artist Henry Ryan MacGinnis is just one example of the many pieces this famous artist created of scenes from the local area.  (Courtesy of the Walker Collection)

On October 19, 2021, Bradford's prolific artist Bert Dodson pass away.  Dodson moved to the Upper Valley in 1977 and began decades of drawing, painting and teaching.  His studio was on the third floor of the Bradford Academy Building.

His publications included Keys to Drawing and The Way Life Works.  He mentored many young artists and held a weekly drawing group for locals in his studio.  He was well known for his illustrations in books for young readers including the Famous American Series and the American Adventure Series. He used locals as models for his illustrations. I was a model in his illustration for Favor Johnson, a Christmas book written by Willem Lange.

Dodson provided free cover illustrations for my two "In Times Past" collections. These books were sold to benefit the Bradford Public Library.    

     

Original column:  

One worked here all his life, others were born here and achieved fame elsewhere, just passed through or summered and retired here. They are artists with connections to our locale who achieved prominence between 1825 and 1960. To this day, their works are found in museums, galleries and art auctions.

Beginning in the late 18th century, painting murals on the walls of homes and public buildings became a widespread practice in New England. Rufus K. Porter, born in Boxford, MA in 1792, was, according to biographer Jean Lipman, “the chief wall painter of his day and the most noteworthy mural painter in the history of American art.”

Porter’s primary work as an itinerant muralist was composed between 1825 and1845 and over 100 home decorated by the artist and his followers have been found in New England. Lipman writes, “He decorated walls, rapidly and cheaply, for the simple farmhouse and taverns of everyday folks.”

Local examples attributed to him include the Chase house in East Topsham, the Nutter house in Swiftwater, the Daniel Carr house and two others in North Haverhill, the Wilson-Lavery house in Haverhill Corner, the Hinckley-Beale House in Orford and the Moses Kent house in Lyme. Descriptions and photographs of these murals can be found in Katharine Blaisdell’s Over the River and Through the Years, Book Six. As several of these murals were found covered by wallpaper, Blaisdell speculates that there may be others still hidden in local homes of that period.

The murals in the Daniel Carr house achieved public notice when in 1943, novelist Frances Parkinson Keyes used the house as the setting for Also The Hills. The endleaves of the novel featured a Porter mural.

For subjects of these murals, Porter drew on his own experiences. His life in Portland and service in the Maine state militia are frequently represented by the appearance of soldiers and ships in his works. Scenes from his travels to Hawaii and the homes of famous individuals are found alongside pastoral scenes of grazing cows, rivers, and farmhouses. These subjects were often mixed in murals in the same room or hallway. While his murals added brightness and interest to their locations, the somewhat primitive nature of his work suggests that he did not have formal training.

In addition to his murals, Porter also had an interest in science and technology. Lipman writes that Porter’s inventions include a horse-powered flatboat, a fire alarm and a revolving rifle. He publicized his ideas in scientific journals, several of which he edited. In 1845 he founded the magazine Scientific American, selling it six months later. He was still intellectually and physically active into his 80s. Porter died in Connecticut at age 92. Dartmouth’s Robert L. McGrath wrote that Porter’s interests in art, science and technology made him “a kind of Yankee Leonardo da Vinci.”

The portrait painter who has many works exhibited locally is Alonzo Slafter. He was born in Norwich, VT in 1801. He abandoned the study of law to attend a small art school in Newbury taught by Abigail Henderson. Wells’ History of Newbury mentions that Slafter painted a portrait of Henderson, skillfully capturing the character of his teacher.

Blaisdell’s description of this artist includes the following quote from Linda Monteque. “He devoted many years to art in which he obtained merited distinction. He was however too sensitive and retiring to place himself in a position to be known and appreciated by the public. He wrote many sonnets and other poems in early life of decided merit, a few of which against his wishes got into print.”

Slafter painted portraits of some of the area’s leading citizens. Those include members of the Barron and Strickland families of Bradford. These portraits, along with a self-portrait, are in Bradford Public Library. In 1838, he painted several portraits of the Marcus Wheeler family of Thetford, now in the Wisconsin Historical Museum. One attributed to him is in the National Portrait Gallery. An 1840 receipt for $35 for two portraits is an example of his income.

In later life he lived on a farm outside of Bradford village. Census takers in 1850 and 1860 found him living with numerous other adults at the Merrill and Bliss boarding houses. A still life owned by the Library is said to have been painted as part of his rent. He died in Bradford in 1864.

Henry Cheever Pratt, noted portrait and landscape painter, was born on Orford’s Upper Street in1803. According to Orford historian Alice Hodgson, as a teenager he used the whitewashed walls of his family’s barn as palettes. Samuel F. B. Morse saw talent in the paintings and took him to Boston as student and assistant.

In 1845 Pratt joined painter Thomas Cole on a painting expedition to Maine. His reputation was established, when in 1851, he accompanied John Russell Bartlett on the US Mexican Boundary Survey. The hundreds of sketches he made became the basis of some of his landscape paintings.

Pratt’s local landscapes include “On the Amunoosuc River” and one of 1830s Orford Street as seen from the Fairlee Cliff. His many portraits included Benjamin Pierce and the Marquis de Lafayette. He died in 1880 in Wakefield, MA. His works are exhibited in the Boston Museum of Fine Art, Dartmouth’s Hood Museum and other museums across the nation.

William Baxter Palmer Closson, painter and wood engraver, was born in Thetford in 1848 and attended Thetford Academy. He studied at the Lowell Institute and later provided high quality wood engravings for publications such as Harper’s magazine. When photomechanical processes began to replace wood engraving in the 1890s, he changed his focus to painting. He is known for his portraits, landscapes and coastal scenes. Sixteen of his paintings are in the American Art collection at the Smithsonian Institution. He died in Hartford, CT in 1926.

Artist Frederick Andrew Bosley had a connection with Piermont. He was born in 1881 in Lebanon, NH and entered the Boston Museum of Fine Arts School in 1900. He became very involved in the Boston art world, exhibiting his impressionist works throughout the northeast. He became director of the Museum School. In 1926 he purchased a farm in Piermont where he tried unsuccessfully to start a summer art school. In 1931 he resigned from the Museum School, “in protest over the introduction of modern art into the school program.” He died in 1942 in Concord, MA. His connection with Piermont was strong enough to cause him to be listed in the genealogies section in the 1947 town history.

Joseph Knowles created hundreds of etchings and paintings. He stayed briefly in Bradford around 1912 and became acquainted with the family of Dr. Walter Cole, from whom he rented lodging. He painted a large panorama of Bradford village that hung for a time in the Bradford Hotel. It is now on display at the Bradford Public Library, a gift from the Cole family. He also presented the Coles with a painting of the Bradford falls.

Soon after he left Bradford, Knowles gained national prominence when he spent two months in the Maine woods without the benefit of any clothes or other necessities. It was said to be the result of his concern that people were losing touch with nature. It was also an effort to help the struggling Boston Post, which reprinted his periodic messages written with charcoal on birch bark. When he emerged, clothed in the skin of a bear and in excellent health, he was greeted on his trip to Boston by over 100,000 fans. The rival Hearst newspaper proclaimed the exploits of the “Nature Man” a hoax. To prove himself Knowles offered to followed up with two similar adventures.

Out of his notoriety, Knowles built a career as an author, lecturer and artist, spending his life in Oregon. Upon his death in 1942, the Boston newspapers recalled the 1913 controversy, where as the Sunday Oregonian recounted his contributions as “a sailor, newspaper illustrator, lecturer, author, motion picture producer and actor, showman, nature lover, Boy Scout counselor and creator of fine etchings, water colors and oils.”

Two women are noted for artistic talents during this period. The first is Adelaide Coburne Palmer, born in Orford in 1851. She became an established Boston artist and a member of the Copley Society. She was best known for her landscapes and fruit still lifes, one of which became the basis for the Fruit of the Loom trademark. Around 1900 she moved to Piermont to care for her aging father but still continued to exhibit in Boston and elsewhere. In 1902 she was listed at the Annual Exhibit of Paintings by Prominent Artists in Portland, ME. She died in 1928.

The second woman, about which little is known, is Betsey Richardson Comstock, born in Corinth about 1837. A description of her was included in a 1913 history of Cambridge, MA. “Quite young she developed a talent for painting. After the death of her husband [1883] she pursued her art and obtained a creditable rank among contemporary artists. This gift has been consecrated to charity. The proceeds from the sale of her pictures are devoted to some worthy causes. Mrs. Comstock is a New England woman of the best type…”

I saved for last the one artist in this group with whom I was personally acquainted. I first saw Henry Ryan MacGinnis when, in 1953, he accompanied his wife Jane to my 5th grade class at the Orford Street school. She was our art teacher. For several summers as a teen I did yard work at their Lake Morey home and had a chance to see both finished works and works in progress.

Descriptions of his work by art expert Richard Frey are found in the 2008 catalog of an exhibit of MacGinnis’ work at the Trout Gallery at Pennsylvania’s Dickinson College.

MacGinnis was born in Indiana in 1875. Listed early as “an artist of note,” he was a member of several artists groups including the Hoosier School, Pennsylvania’s New Hope Circle and the art colony at Provincetown, MA. Achieving some important portrait commissions, he began a 40-year teaching career at the School of Industrial Arts in Trenton, NJ.

His local connection began when he summered at Upper Baker Pond in Orford. He later moved to Lake Morey, where he was described as “the resident artist.” He briefly opened a summer school to teach open-air painting. He later retired to his Fairlee home and remained there until his death in 1962.

MacGinnis’ artistic career is described by Frey: “His varied work along the east coast makes it difficult to see him as part of any single place. He never considered himself part of any ‘school. He was an independent artist who only painted the scenes that moved him. [MacGinnis’] greatest love was to paint outdoors.” This artist’s “earlier works were more naturalistic and later works more impressionistic.

He chose to paint many locations close to his New Hampshire summer home. He also painted a number of portraits, including several of his wife Jane. Many of his works are in the hands of private collectors who generously share them with museums and galleries interested in MacGinnis’ career.

When I started to research this column, I had little idea of the extent to which our locale was connected to American art history. I have included in this column several examples of the works of these artists and encourage interested readers to go to Internet sources, galleries and museums to view others. In viewing them, one gets the sense that artists often express their life experiences in their art. They, like the many artists who followed them to and from this area, may have found their muse to varying degrees in the beauty of our region and the interesting people who lived here.

Games of Our Childhood

Journal Opinion, May 16, 2012


“The boys and girls, enjoying themselves, playing goal and tag, and pizen, and hide and seek, and blind man’s bluff, and igh spy, and wolf, and shouting and yelling till the woods rang with echoes.” This is a description of youthful fun at the May, 1780 Training Day in Warren, described in William Little’s 1870 town history. The games those children played were handed down orally from generation to generation and are an integral part of the memories of many area residents. Some are still being played by children today.

On Wednesday, May 23, the Bradford Historical Society invites area residents to join in a time of sharing of those memories. The program will be held at 7 p.m. at the Bradford Academy and will have enough active participation to bring out the child in the willing. The Society’s current museum display of antique toys will be at its display of games and toys at the 2012 Vermont History Expo at the Tunbridge Fairgrounds on June 16-17. When at the Expo, remember to stop by the BHS booth.

The original theme of this column was to include both toys and games, but there was so much information, that the toy, cards and board games portion will have to wait for a future column. This column deals with the games children organized for themselves, without adult supervision, and with a minimum of equipment, in what is now known as “free play.”

The history of games is as rich and varied as the imagination of the children who created and enjoyed them and may not include the favorite pastime of some readers. While varied, the amazing thing is how similar some of these games are from place to place and time to time.

It is thought that children’s games played in earlier societies were a way of preparing youngsters for adult roles through imitation. The rough and boisterous team games prepared boys for their participation as hunters and warriors. Playing house readied girls as homemakers. While few of my youthful companions ever became cps or robbers, it might be supposed that by playing that game we learned skills used later in life. There is no doubt that games contributed to the social, emotional, physical and intellectual growth of the children who played them.

Many of the games passed down through American history have their origins in the European countries from which the immigrants came. The term “game” comes from the Old English word gaman, meaning joy, fun and amusement. Some games, like blind man’s bluff, are thought to have origins as far back as ancient China. Hopscotch and marbles were played in classical Rome and Greece.

“Children’s Games,” a 1560 painting by Flemish artist Pieter Breughel, included over 200 children playing at least 80 games familiar to him. Many of those games, including leap frog, tug of war, crack the whip, follow the leader and marbles are still being played by children 450 years later.

Games were sometimes connected with historic events or individuals. But not always. It was thought for a time that Ring Around the Rosie described the great plagues of the Middle Ages and that London Bridge Is Falling Down referred to a 12th century attack on London, but both explanations has been generally discounted by folklorists.

In the rough life of early New England there was little time or tolerance for children’s games, except on festival days. There were few exclusively children’s games. Early school did not encourage games as a part of study, considering them frivolous. Some games that were played in Colonial times included hopscotch, jacks, cat’s cradle, cup and ball and stoole ball.

Work was made easier by the introduction of games. Husking and paring bees had an element of play involved. Other games, often in dance form, may tell of the way in which work is done. “Oats, Pease, Beans and Barley Grows” and “Threading the Needle” are two possible examples.

An article in 1847 edition of Vermont Agriculturalist entitled “The Mother’s Part,” autioned against too much play. “Children must play, but at the same time, they should be taught that play is not the principal thing. They should have set time for play, as well as other things.” A 1910 article warned against “vagrant street games” as appealing to “the inferior side of a child’s nature.”

Some games originally began with young adults for whom dancing was prohibited. In the 19th century in Haverhill, young people gathered to play Blind-man’s Bluff, turn the plate, chasing the squirrel and simon says, with kisses, “willingly given and quickly taken” well into the evening. These seem to be forerunners of spin the bottle and post office enjoyed by teens in later years.

In an effort to preserve the oral tradition of games, a number of collections were published. In 1869, Laura Valentine authored Games for Family Parties and Children.

In 1883, folklorist William Wells Newell, in fear that children’s traditions could become extinct, published a collection entitled Games and Songs of American Children. They both describe, by category, familiar games as well as others that have disappeared or undergone name changes.


Some of the game categories included blindfold, contest, trade, fortress, memory and chase as well as marriage and love games for those who were older. Specific games played in New England included the familiar and those lost to memory: Go In and Out the Window, Farmer in the Dell, I spy, callie-ball, genteel lady, hawks and hhickens and knights of Spain. Many of these games migrated across the country and variations appeared. Many of these games also appear in other cultures, sometimes with variations.

These collections can be accessed on Google Books, along with descriptions of many of the games mentioned in this column. I also reread two other interesting collections: The Great American Depression Book of Fun by John O’dell and The Foxfire Book of Toys and Games, edited by Linda Garland Page and Hilton Smith. Both books include “reminiscences and instruction” gathered in the early 1980s.

About that same time, my students conducted a series of interviews with elders who were area youngsters between 1890 and 1920. They mentioned a number of the games that had been played in earlier times. Many, who grew up in rural areas, agreed with one man who grew up on a West Corinth farm: “My life was pretty full with working on the farm, but when I did have free time we used to play stickball.” Depending on the season, they went sliding, skating, fishing, swimming and hiking.

As before, some diversions were limited by sex, location or family circumstances. Several women, who talked of playing dolls, said that baseball, bikes and swimming were not “lady-like.” Kids in rural locations with few others around were less likely to play group activities than those who were in town, except on the playground at the district school. Several mentioned that school recess allowed time for hop-scotch, tag and ball games. One elder said: “Our play we made ourselves. We made our own fun, made our own play.”

Bradford historian Harold Haskins who grew up in the early 20th century mentioned the restrictions on play on Sunday: “I can clearly remember when boys and girls quite generally were not expected to engage in games or play on Sunday.” He recalled that on a Sunday afternoon in 1907, “town officials” stopped a gang of boys from playing baseball on a remote field.

As these games passed from rural to urban settings, variations appeared. My friend Robert Robb who grew up in Detroit in the 1930s and 40s, told me of street games regularly played, including kick the can, tippie and tappy on the icebox.

Growing up on Bridge Street in Orford in the 1940s and 50s, play was a regular activity for the neighborhood children. We could be gone from home for hours at a time and play was only interrupted when a mom called one of us home for a meal. Seemingly carefree, and depending on the season, we wrestled, played tag, and hide and seek and pick up ball, went biking, fishing and sliding, had snowball fights and played lawn games such as mother may I and red light, green light. Imagination and innovation were the source of games. We had vines and tires to swing on and brooks and lakes for swimming.

Nothing was more enticing than a good mud puddle or better yet, a small stream of water for building dams or sailing homemade boats. Scrap lumber, a cardboard box, an abandoned car or an improvised clubhouse, sometimes tree high, could be combined with imaginations running wild to fill a summer afternoon. There were, of course, games that our parents knew nothing about.

Games often led to dirty or torn clothes and bruised bodies, a problem when Saturday night was your only bath night and mothers, in addition to being family doctor, had to spend most of a whole day doing the family laundry. It is a wonder most of us grew up with body parts intact.

When I caddied at Lake Morey Golf Course, the benches in the caddy shack were worn through from the jackknife game of mumblety-peg. In the school yard, we played marbles and red rover” and pick up games of baseball and soccer. With age, organized sports, dating and jobs left less time for informal games. But older kids sometimes duped younger ones into nighttime game of snipes, literally leaving youngsters holding the bag.

This is a boy’s perspective on games. While some of these activities included the girls in the neighborhood, girls had their own exclusive pastimes. They were more likely to play dress-up, hopscotch, house and school, paper dolls, jacks or jump rope, with no boys allowed. Of course, they also had games that were a complete mystery to yucky boys, which often included a lot of giggling.

Some games such at tick tack toe are now available as computer games. My 10 year-old grandson, Trever Robbins, tells me that play for boys his age means playing computer games on Nintendo DS, Playstation and Xbox, alone or with friends. In addition to organized sports, he tells me that they still, play army, complete with toy guns and forts, and tag and just plain “racing around.” My granddaughter, Rachel Jacobs, 13, a talented soccer player who also plays video games such as Angry Bird and Draw Something, told me about clapping games, jump rope and hopscotch played with her girlfriends.

“The saddest feature of our modern social condition and overcrowding in towns is that children have forgotten how to play.” No, this is not the editorial comment of a current observer. It is from an 1895 article in The Contemporary Review by Charles Roberts. Elders such as me often fuss over the loss of the games we played as youngsters, especially as a response to a grandchild’s plea, “I’m bored.” It has been said that “A true game is one that frees the spirit.” If you are lucky you might get them to teach you their new games while you teach them your older ones. It will free the spirits of both of you.

Dancing in the Kitchen, Singing in the Parlor

Journal Opinion April 11, 2012

Author greets speaker Mark Greenberg (left) prior to his April 18th presentation on "Kitchen Tunks and Parlor Songs" for the Bradford Historical Society.  His appearance before an enthusiastic audience was underwritten by the Vermont Humanities Council.  (Photo: Janice Neubauer)

Old time fiddler Harold Luce of Chelsea leads the current festivities of a kitchen junket at the home of Rick and Anne Rosten in Cookville.  (Photo:Anne Rosten/Journal Opinion)

“After the supper came the dance. There was no music save the fiddles…but was that not enough? Have ever feet tapped more merrily than to a rollicking scrape of some inspired old wool-thatched fiddler, swaying to his own strains and called out the figures in clear, rich tones that harmonized with his wild dance measure as only he could do.”

This is a 19th century description of what has been called kitchen junkets, kitchen tunks, tonks, rackets or scrapes. It is dancing in the kitchen. This column describes this New England bit of homegrown fun along with the often accompanying activity of singing in the parlor.

On Wednesday, April 18, musician-educator Mark Greenberg presented the illustrated program “Kitchen Tunks and Parlor Song” at the Bradford Academy Auditorium to an audience of about 60. The program was sponsored by the Bradford Historical Society with a grant from the Vermont Humanities Council. Greenberg currently teaches courses in American music at UVM and is a resident of Montpelier. He has researched the roots of Vermont music and has recorded this music in both CD and DVD presentations.

Beginning after chores were done, these kitchen dances were held in conjunction with a barn raising, corn roast or husking bee or just as a break from the isolation of a long winter. When one was planned, word went out about the neighborhood, passed from home to home. Most neighborhoods had at least one fiddler, although “scraping” was an appropriate description of his talents in some cases.

This was an opportunity for neighbors to get together and share the most recent gossip or commiserate about the weather. These family-centered events were held in the “great kitchen” of local farmhouses, often the largest room in the dwelling. When all the furniture, except the stove and sink was removed, an intimate dance floor became available. Sometimes adjacent rooms were also used.

The short story M’Randy Ann’s Romance by Helen M. Winslow that appeared in an 1894 edition of The New England Magazine includes a description of a northern Vermont kitchen junket: “Old Dave Burrows sat in state on the only chair in the room, scraping wildly on a fiddle with one string broken. Up and down the uneven floor a dozen young folks were going vigorously though the mazy evolutions of the Virginia Reel, while a half-dozen more huddled in the doorway that led to the great ‘square room’ or parlor as the next generation termed it, applauding the most graceful and deriding the least graceful of the dancers.”

The description goes on: “At ten o’clock the kitchen table was pulled out and loaded with doughnuts, apple sauce, pie, cheese and cider. This was pleasant intermission in the evening’s exercises, after which the dancing would go on with renewed vigor.” The figures included traditional contras, quadrilles and square dances, taken from English, Scottish and French traditional dances. They were so familiar to most participants that the caller only had to get them started and they could continue with just the music and whatever gusto they could muster.

There were, of course, variations. Sometimes the fiddler’s chair was on a board covering the sink to make extra room. A harmonica player or other musician might provide accompaniment. At times there was liquor or hard cider. Often a supper followed the evening of dancing.

Sometimes dancing lasted until well after midnight. Card games and group singing could be held in conjunction with the party. In some neighborhoods, the junkets rotated from house to house, whereas in others, the largest farm kitchen was used.

These frolics were not looked upon with favor by some. In the 1890s, the New Hampshire Superintendent of Public Instruction warned against students attending dances including kitchen junkets. “Such pupils are wholly unfitted to do substantial school work. For two or three days after these nightly revelings, their minds are unsettled, stupid and dull.”

In the early 1980’s my U.S. History students interviewed area elders about life in the period from 1900-1930. Many spoke, with fond memories, of kitchen junkets they had attended in their youth. I followed up recently with several additional interviews. Among the comments were: “I learned to dance there.” and “They were lots of fun, dancing and visiting.” Others mentioned “plenty of liquor” and “They had the best hard cider.”

One man said that his favorite song “to stamp the old feet to” was the “Soldier’s Joy.” Another, who lived in northern Bradford, told me that in his youth he had a horse-drawn sleigh and at the end of a very long evening of dancing, he could snuggle down under a lap robe and the horse knew the way home to the warm barn.

Greg Sharrow, writing about kitchen junkets in the Vermont Encyclopedia, attributes their demise “to an increase in rowdiness as the automobile enabled people to travel greater distances and people from outside a particular neighborhood began showing up in these local gatherings.” It is also true that commercial barn dances, featuring both round and square dancing and an expanded social experience, drew the younger crowd and led to the decline of the traditional neighborhood gathering.

There is at least one kitchen junket still held in the area. For the past 10 years, Rick and Anne Rosten of Cookville have invited up to 60 friends and neighbors to their home for a junket. It is held in conjunction with friends, family and the Bradford Evangelical Free Church. As the kitchen is not large enough to accommodate the numbers who attend, two adjacent rooms are used.

Veteran fiddler/caller Harold Luce of Chelsea does the honors for square dancing. Anne told me that the party starts with sledding and games and the evening ends with the “Virginia Reel.” She said they host the annual event as a way to deal with “cabin fever.”

An equally large number of interviewees said they never went to kitchen junkets as their families didn’t believe in dancing, cards or drinking liquor. But they did speak fondly of group singing. The other portion of Mark Greenberg’s presentation on April 18th will deal with parlor songs.

Singing has been a major part of Vermont folk culture. The art of singing, both sacred and secular, was encouraged from the earliest years of area towns. In March 1794, Newbury voted to appoint choristers to teach and lead singing. Jeremiah Ingalls and Jacob Bayley were among those chosen.

Singing schools were common in many area communities, meeting in churches and schools. The history of Ryegate described the social importance of these schools: “The witchery of the singing schools drew young people from far and near… pleasure and instruction were equally mingled.”

There were also those who accompanied work or relaxation by singing the ballads passed to them by their ancestors. One farmer, James Atwood, also known as a folksinger and poet is quoted: “I’m not what you’d call a regular singer, you know I never learned by book nor never saw nothin’s writ down. I’ve allus sung ‘cause I can’t help it. My father was the same and my grandfather before him.”

Greenberg related the history of traditional Vermont ballads, many of which had roots from early Vermonters’ European roots. Two collections of these ballads mentioned were those of “the Old Revolutionary Soldier of Sandgate, Vermont”(1823) and those collected by Helen Hartness Flanders (1931). Included are many familiar ballads passed down orally from generation to generation. “Barbara Allen,” “Billy Boy” and “Young Charlotte” are just three well known to many.

Parlor music became popular in America before the Civil War and continued into the early 20th century. Stephen Foster’s compositions are examples of early parlor songs and represent the most widely sung pieces of the 19th century. Two of his most popular were “O Susanna” (1848) and “Jeanie With The Light Brown Hair” (1854).

Originally marketed to the middle class, the popular of these musical pieces coincided with the rise of the American piano and organ industry. This was an era in which many individuals played musical instruments. Songwriters realized there was a large and lucrative market for sheet music and song collections. If they could get a popular entertainer to feature a piece, the number of sheets rose significantly.

Until the 1920s a truly popular song might be defined as one of which a large number of people could recall both the tune and some of the words. In a society more attuned to communal music, the common denominators of a popular song included a tune that was easy to sing with basic, direct and intelligible words. Songs were styled for solos, duets and group singing. Parlor music fit this bill. The melody was usually simple, the words ranged from comic to sentimental.

In Sweet Songs for Gentle Americans: The Parlor Song in America 1790-1860, Nicholas E. Tawa wrote that these songs were about “shared human experiences” and reflected “commonly-held ideas that were readily understood and deeply satisfying.” This was truly “music for the millions.” While most of the songwriters were men, it was “overwhelmingly women who collected this music.”

In the period after 1877, songwriters in New York’s Tin Pan Alley marketed their songs aggressively. The song to sell a million sheets was “After The Ball Is Over” (1892), eventually selling over five million. “Take Me Out To the Ball Game” (1908) became a popular favorite and still remains the unofficial anthem of the game.

War, which tends to focus national sentiment, was a major catalyst of the type of songs popularized by parlor songwriters. Songs were popular among both military personnel and civilians. They reflect the varied strong emotions that war evokes. Popular songs of the Civil War include “The Empty Chair” and “Just Before the Battle, Mother.” During World War I, ”Keep the Home Fires Burning” and “Oh How I Hate To Get Up in the Morning” were popular.

Greenberg includes in his collection of popular Vermont parlor songs instrumentals of the following: “Wait for the Wagon” (1850), “Darlin’ Nelly Gray” (1856), “Golden Slippers” (1879) and “You Are My Sunshine” (1940). Several of these, as with other parlor songs, were originally written for blackface minstrel shows.

My first introduction to this music genre was when, in my very early years, I sat next to my elderly Orford neighbor Florence Workman while she played her parlor piano. Together we sang Foster’s “Camptown Races” (1850) and “The Big Rock Candy Mountain” (1906) written by Harry McClintock. That memory is as sweet to me as the divinity fudge she made. We also sang some of these songs during music time at Orford’s elementary school.

The rise of the phonographs and radio created a hit parade of songs, but led to the decline of parlor singing. It is no wonder that there were no parlor songs in the Rolling Stone magazine’s Top 500 Songs list. While there are a few songs, such as “God Bless America” (1918) or “Take Me Out to the Ball Game” that can cause an audience to break into song, most of the thousands of the songs are now lost to memory.

There is no doubt that the omnipresence of music today, emanating from radio, television, iPods and from hidden speakers in many public places, has led to the decline of singing by average folks, except as an accompaniment to the professional. We no longer need personal singing to set the cadence for work or fill the relaxing evenings.

Singing is something more likely to be done at us than by us. We are less likely to whistle or hum that merry tune as listen to it via an ear bud. As we don’t sing in the parlor, we don’t dance in the kitchen. And I am not sure that we are more secure in our personal wellbeing for it.

(Editor’s Note: The author’s second book of essays In Times Past: Essays From the Upper Valley, Book Two will be available in May from local outlets. )

Picture That! Photographers of the Upper Valley

James A. Cutting, born in Hanover in 1814 and grew up in Haverhill. After moving

to Boston, he patiented the ambrotype, an advance in photography. The name of the style was taken from Cutting's middle name.

This hand-colored portrait is known as a carte-de-visite or CDV.

It was popular during the last half of the 19th century and was the

first photograph that could be reproduced in any number the

customer desired. (Bradford Historical Society)

E.H. Allen's Photographic Studio. This studio was located on the east side of Bradford's Main Street and was described by The United Opinon in 1895 as ranking among the best int he state. It housed Allen's photograph studio and "an extensive and beautiful line" of artist supplies. (Bradford Historical Society)
This cabinet photo was by Charles F. Bracy. He had studios at one time or another in Warren, Wells River, Woodsville and Fairlee with a career that lasted from at least 1877 to 1910. His elaborate advertisement appeared on the back of his formal portraits. (Bradford Historical Society)

Bradford's Railroad Photographer. This photograph of the Bradford station was taken around 1942 by Phillip Hastings. Over a 50-year period, Hastings became one of the nation's foremost railroad photographer, capturing the transiton of the industry from steam to diesel. (Bradford Historical Socielty)

Journal-Opinion December 28, 2011

Someone in your family probably has them. They are stored in a box or a timeworn album. They are photographs from which your ancestors look out in tones of black and white, sepia or even blue from times past. They depict infants, soldiers, new graduates, married couples or grim elders. They chronicle vacations, celebrations or family reunions. Some were taken by amateurs, others by professionals.

When they were taken, the family knew who and what was pictured. Now you know who they are only if someone bothered to write names and dates on the photographs. For the others, the people, times and places are lost to memory.

This column deals with the first century of professional photography in our area. It describes the advancements in photography from before the Civil War to the 1950’s.Included are the names and contributions of those professionals who worked in the area and those who had local connections, but made their reputations elsewhere.

The daguerreotype was introduced in 1839 and was the first widely used means of photography. It used a polished, silver-plated sheet of metal to produce a one-of-a-kind image directly from the camera. While it was replaced by less expensive methods, it fixed the idea of photography in the collective consciousness of Americans.

West Fairlee was the birthplace Albert Sands Southworth, one of the pioneers of American photography. That town’s historical society states that Southworth was born in 1811, grew up on Blood Brook Road and graduated from Bradford Academy. Although he left West Fairlee at the age of 18, he often returned to visit the family farm.

Southworth was fascinated by daguerreotypes and opened a studio in Massachusetts in 1840. He and his partner, Josiah Hawes, became recognized for their “aesthetic accomplishments and technical finesse.” Among the dignitaries who sat for them was John Quincy Adams, the first American President to be photographed. In 1862, the partnership was dissolved and Southworth became an independent photographer and lecturer. After he died, his remains were buried in the Blood Brook Cemetery.

One method that replaced the daguerreotype was the ambrotype. It was patented in July 1854 by daguerreian James A. Cutting of Boston. Cutting was born in Hanover in 1814. His family moved to Haverhill,where he lived into adulthood. Using the money from his invention of a new type of beehive, he moved to Boston and entered the photography business. The term ambrotype is based on Cutting’s middle name. It was an advance that gave multiple positives in a clear image and was presented as a matted and cased photograph. This method protected the image by sealing it between two pieces of glass. It had an advantage over earlier methods as could be viewed without holding it at a correct angle. It was also the first time that wet-late photography was used.

He sold his patient for the ambrotype for a reported $40,000, an enormous amount at the time. He then used his fortune to create one of Boston’s first aquariums and other places of entertainment. He also had a yacht which he called the Ambrotype. The report of his death in Connecticut’s Hartford Times in August 1867 mentioned that he died in an insane asylum. .

The popularity of the ambrotype was short lived, and it was replaced by tintypes, carte-de-visite’s or CDVs and cabinet cards. All three of these methods were introduced about the time of the Civil War and remained popular until the end of the 19th century.

The tintype was a single image produced on a thin iron plate, without the need for a negative. CDVs were mounted portraits, about the size of a calling card, thus their name. They were often hand colored. They could be easily reprinted to produce the number of copies desired by the customer. Images of some celebrities sold in large numbers.

Cabinet cards were larger than CDVs. Both types were pasted on cardboard or mounted in ornate cases made of leather over wood. A union case was two photos in the same case facing each other. With these advancements in photography, the general public came to realize it could have portraits made. Formerly that had been limited to the wealthy who could afford to hire painters.

E. H. Allen of Bradford was one of the first photographers in Vermont. He moved to Bradford in 1858 and set up a studio in the Hardy building near where Perry’s Oil Service is located today. He first produced daguerreotypes, but soon adopted the more popular ambrotypes and CDVs. His studio burned in the fire of 1883 and he relocated across the street. That studio also was destroyed by fire seven years later, but was rebuilt.

In 1895, The United Opinion ranked both the studio and the photographer as one of the best in the state. Allen died in 1917 and is buried in the Upper Plain Cemetery. Allen’s clear professional photographs of local scenes and individuals are a valuable tool for local historians.

One popular type of photograph that Allen apparently did not produce was stereograph. These featured two nearly identical images mounted side by side and when viewed through a special holder, provided a three-dimensional image. Both itinerate and local photographers specialized in this type of photograph. They were a widely popular form of entertainment in the late 19th century.

From 1875 to 1881, itinerant photographer was Carlyle Goodrich of Plainfield traveled through northern Vermont taking images of buildings and their inhabitants. A recent publication by Richard J. Petit on this photographer includes stereographs of several local towns. Petit writes “[Goodrich] captured the styles, dress, homes, livestock, and occasionally, significant family events of the era defined by his career.”

A local stereographic photographer was Amos F. Clough of Warren and Orford. As early as 1865, Clough had a studio on Main Street in Orford and began publishing local stereo cards. He is best known, however, for his winter landscape photographs. In the winter of 1869-70, he joined geologists on the top of Mt. Moosilauke and recorded the impact of the wind and temperature. The following winter, he joined a group on Mt. Washington in a similar project. He is described as “eminent in his profession” and “a true lover of nature and devotee of science.”

Daniel C. Chapman, another professional recognized for his photographs of natural phenomena, was born in South Corinth in 1826. In 1863, he began his photographic work in New York City. Over the next thirty years he gained “a world-wide reputation” for his experiments in the photographic process including making plates more sensitive and creating a device for making photographs to exact scale. Additionally, he is recalled for his photographs of phases of the sun and moon. He served as the chief photographer for the U.S. Coast and Geodetic Survey and the Bureau of Weights and Measures.

There were a number of contemporaries who provided professional local photographs in late 19th and early 20th century. Lucius L. Pollard was a traveling photographer and artist who had a studio on North Main Street in Haverhill from 1880 to 1885. He previously had studios in Waterbury and Springfield.

A photographer by the last name of Corliss produced photographs in both East Corinth and Newbury. It is possible it was Elizabeth Hunter Corliss who is listed in the Newbury history as a photographer around 1902. If so, she is the only local female photographer I found in that era.

The introduction of the Kodak camera in 1888 made the taking of photographs available to a larger number of people. They took pictures of almost every aspect of their lives, and Kodak did the developing and printing. New types of photographic film and papers were introduced and the practice of pasting photos to cardboard mounts was mostly dropped, although cardboard holders were used.

Around 1900, the “Real Photo” postcard was introduced, allowing both amateur and professional photographers to print pictures on cards that could be mailed. The golden era of post cards was in the period before World War I, and cards with pictures of individuals and local scenes were common.

Even with affordable cameras available, professional photographers continued to be important. W. D. Chandler of St. Albans, H. L. Bixby of Chelsea and R.M. McIntosh of Northfield were traveling photographers who visited this area. Photographs bearing their names are in the collections of the Bradford Historical Society.

The most accomplished photographer who traveled to our area was Clara Sipprell (1885-1975). Her life-time affiliation with Vermont began in 1915 when she was invited to photograph a catalog for Camp Hanoum in Thetford. Sipprell and her business partner rented a studio nearby and, until 1939 she came to Thetford off and on to photograph the Vermont landscape and its people.

In a 1988 Vermont History News article by Gisela Gamper, Sipprell is quoted: “In and around Thetford I think my best landscapes are made. My Vermont neighbors enriched my life by their friendliness…there is a magic of roots growing deep in this state which touches the whole world.”

Sipprell’s photographs exemplify the style known as photopictorialism. It involved the use of natural light and soft-focus lens as an artistic tool. Her works include portrait of many celebrities and contributions to well-known periodicals. In 1974, the State of Vermont honored Sipprell with the Governor’s Award for Excellence in the Arts, “recognizing her contributions to the history of photography with her luminous images in the pictorial aesthetic.” Her portraits are represented in the National Portrait Gallery in Washington, D.C.


Important to the local historical record are photographs by Bracy and Adams. Charles F. Bracy worked in Warren in 1877, Wells River in 1886 and operated a studio and art store in Woodsville in 1890. It was said to, “compare favorably with any establishment in New England.” In 1910, he was advertised as being a partner with A. L. Adams of Fairlee. For the next decade or so, Adams took photographs that varied from local bands and farm workers to school photos.

Several photographers operated from studios in Woodsville. W. E. West had a studio in the Hotel Wentworth on Central Street in 1890, followed in 1894-96 by C. F. Bracy and J. J. Towle around 1900. H. C. Bailey opened a studio and art store in 1890 and was known in the state for his use of innovative techniques.

Silas Hobart operated a studio “specializing in photographs of all kinds” on School Street from 1914-1923. In 1925, E. McLeod Sipprell began to operate a studio on Central Street. Among his specialties were class pictures for local schools, and he was known as a “genial photographer.” In 1952, Sipprell’s studio was sold to Winthrop Klark, who, according to Blaisdell’s Haverhill history, had operated a studio in the Opera Block since 1948. It was later sold to George F. Scheller who operated the studio until 1960.

Bradford native Philip R Hastings (1925-1987) was one of America’s most gifted railroad photojournalists and is credited with inventing modern railroad photography. Born and raised within sight and sound of Bradford’s Boston and Maine station, he became a devoted railroad enthusiast. Beginning at the age of 12 and using a box camera, he began a life-long interest in railroad photography. It was in Bradford that Hastings began capturing in photographs the ritual that was the railroad industry, including both the equipment and the people in the railroading community.

His early mentor was Burnside Hooker, Bradford’s long-time station master. Railroad enthusiasts readily recognize the contributions Hastings made to capturing the soul of railroading, especially as it transitioned from steam to diesel. He contributed many illustrated articles in railroad magazines and contributions to and authored numerous books on railroading. His photographs depict an American landscape that has largely disappeared.

A collection of over 55,000 black and white photographs and 32,000 colored transparencies by Hastings are now housed at the California State Railroad Museum in Old Sacramento.

Hundreds of photographs of all types fill the archives of local historical societies and private collections. They were taken by professionals using elaborate cameras and by amateurs using less sophisticated ones. The pictures are of both private and public events and places. Those photographs help us to understand the local landscape and the lives of inhabitants in ways that words cannot. Even when the subjects are not identified, they add to our understanding of times past.

Professional photographers still delight us with exceptional pictures of ordinary and special occasions. But many Americans have the capacity to take photos using their cell phones and digital cameras. Images can be easily printed, posted on the Internet or stored on computer software.

The holidays are a time when many are added to our collections and two thoughts come to mind. Will these photographs, like those taken in the past, be available to view 100 years from now? Will the contents be identified or will they end up nameless, with no one knowing or caring about them? Take care with your images, as they will be a way your descendants will know who you were.