Everyday life 1895 - 1900

The Rev. Newton Eliot Barrett, the Barrett Brothers grandfather, was born in 1890 in San Antonio, Texas and died in 1986 in Moline, Illinois. Late in his life he wrote the following account of what everyday life was like in his childhood. As in everything he said and wrote about his childhood, this account also reveals his unique personality and outlook, especially his resentments and bitterness at being made an orphan at age seven.

My daughter-in-law Bertha for some reasons thinks I might provide a permanent record of my life which would interest my grandsons, especially if I would recount numerous experiences such as her own father does in conversation, recreating a very different world from this one in which they have grown up.

A few months before I was born, my father was called to the pastorate of the new Madison Square Presbyterian Church of San Antonio, Texas. In default of a parsonage, he rented a house near the church. My Grandfather Newton, 78 years old, came with them and lived there during their rather brief stay. Father wrote Uncle Ed that he diverted himself with minor carpentry jobs – a sonata in storage cases, or a symphony in shelves. He accumulated the biggest assortment of the bent nails in San Antonia.

The summer must have been terrifically hot—the doors, without the newfangled screens, were left open for what breeze might steal in. One day those caring for me were horrified to find a scorpion underneath my crib. Mother kept me dressed in the customary southern whites; and a letter to Grandma complains that I had a penchant for finding the muddiest puddle in town and befouling my freshly-donned kilts in it.

For various reasons, Father resigned in April 1892 and returned to Milwaukee, where the family lived with Grandpa Millard’s family until Mar. 1, 1893, and supplied pulpits during that period. Here my first dim recollections begin. The house at 260-20^th St. became familiar to me by three residential terms, from this date to July, 1908; so a description of it deserve mention.

A few years before my birth, Grandpa Millard took a big venture and bought a frame mansion, as it seemed then, which was to be moved from the later site of the C.M. & St.P. Railroad depot at 4^th and Sycamore Sts., a block south of Grand (now Wisconsin) Avenue. He had bought a 50-ft. lot between Cedar (now Kimball) and State Sts. There he had a basement dug and put the house above it. Ever since I knew it, this fine building being too costly for the diminishing family to occupy alone, the second floor had been made into a 4-room and bath apartment, and rented, first to a widow Mrs. Williams, with a fine adult daughter, salesgirl at Chapman’s Dept. Store, and Taffy, (they were Welch) brown water spaniel.

This second floor was off limits, except that Grandpa had reserved the right to take his Saturday night bath in the tin, wood-framed bathtub (much like more modern tubs in shape and size). The rest of us used a small oval-shaped portable tub on the kitchen floor. We lived in the five lower floor rooms, with diverse closets and pantries. A partition had been built midway back in the hallway besides and under the stairs, which served as dressing-room for those who slept in a folding bed in the “back parlor” or living room. The front parlor was used only for special occasions or purposes. It had the square piano on which the youngest, Aunt Helen learned to play, and became remarkably gifted in music; a few stuffed chairs, etc. There was a fireplace, never used, with a marble mantel, on which we hung our stockings (I don’t know how) on Christmas Eve, instead of enjoying a tree. (Others did have such a tree as we now do, with candles, which too often ignited the resinous needles, and occasionally chilled the holiday festivities by fatally burning somebody.)

The living room was a busy place – Grandma’s secretary or writing desk, where she entered an account of each day’s happenings in her diary – a work which would be of real value for antiquarians who wished to reconstruct the life of the late 19^th Century. (I have about a dozen volumes, which I highly prize. They should go to the Wisconsin Historical Society at Madison). Grandpa took his regular noonday nap on the old-style sofa (He was old during my boyhood, and took a long noon hour from his duties as manager of some apartment buildings downtown.) a marble-top table in one corner held current magazines and the “Evening Wisconsin”, which Millard Sawyer and I carried at various times $5 a month with a bonus of double that on New Year’s, when we held up each customer with an ornate calendar, costing us about a dime and usually bringing a quarter – once and a while a dollar. There were enough chairs in that room for each member of the family, who assembled after noon dinner for family worship – each reading in turn a few verses from the selected chapter of the Bible, then kneeling with elbows on the seat, and taking his turn in voicing a more or less devout prayer.

The big dining room in an ell to the south side, with French windows, reaching from floor to ceiling, and which could be, but never were opened upon the front lawn, was the master bedroom, serving as a chamber for Grandpa and Grandma, and the mongrel dog Carlo, who slept at Grandma’s feet. She often complained that Grandpa never allowed him in his way, but considered it proper for his spouse to be content never to stretch out full length in nightly comfort.

We ate in the kitchen, which, beside the extension table, held a combination coal and wood, and gas range; of course, chairs enough for the family, and a shelf opposite the stove, where we cut our bread. (I think Grandma baked at least part of the time; otherwise we bought unwrapped un-sliced loaves at the grocery or baker). Here we mixed the daily breakfast, sometimes dinner and supper staple of French toast—a slice of bread dipped in a mixture of egg and milk, then fried in a skillet, and eaten with butter and usually jelly, scores of glasses of which Grandma put up in season, mostly from grapes. Grandpa on his way to the office, located in one side of a large store room also housing a coal dealer’s headquarters, stopped at one or two groceries and ordered the day’s supply of vegetables (remember often spending the better part of an hour shelling peas from the pod), and other items, which were delivered from a one-horse drawn wagon. Grandpa had operated a grocery several times; but was crowded out by competition, preventing him from making enough to support his large family (ten children, seven of whom grew to adulthood). The adults had coffee, Grandpa pouring the seething brew, diluted with boiled whole milk, including a bit of coagulated cream – “leather apron cream” he called it. A favorite dessert was “thousand island pudding”, made from sweetened milk and egg yolks, topped by a thick frothing of the egg whites beaten. The staple meat ration was called chopped beef, a remote ancestor of hamburger, not kneaded into a mass but fried in pop-corn sized kernels, and industriously forked or spooned into one’s mouth. Grandma had a strong prejudice against onion; and until late in life someone persuaded her to mix in “just a suspicion”, unenhanced by any seasoning but salt. In the big city, we had our milk delivered from a wagon similar to the grocer’s, in bottles, treated in the very novel process of pasteurization, (I wondered what relation this had to the field where the cows grazed), but of course named for Pasteur, a pioneer bacteriologist who devised this means of safeguarding the public health. For extra supplies, we went to a “milk depot” which seemed strangely named, as it had no similarity to a railroad station. Here we brought our tin bucket or crockery pitcher and the attendant poured bulk fluid from a tin measuring can with a spout, 3¢ a pint, a nickel a quart.

The kitchen was where much of our toilet was performed – especially shaving for those of the necessary age and sex. A wall mirror hung near the back door, illuminated by a flare gas jet. We had no electricity, as most houses did, but beside the wasteful flare fixtures, in the parlors we were supplied with Welsbach mantle lights, which were lighted by such a taper as is still used in the churches for the alter candles. This intense but soft white light hasn’t been duplicated even yet by electricity. On the above-mentioned shelf was the indispensable candle in the old-fashioned tin candlestick, which we lighted with old-fashioned sulfur matches whenever we had to use the toilet.

As I said, the bathroom was not for us—we went to the basement where there was a primitive “can”—a regular seat, atop a funnel-shaped porcelain duct leading to the drain pipe beneath the floor. A brass-capped rod with a strong spring, when pressed poured a swirl of water spiraling down to the depths, carrying everything with it. The candle was necessary—there was no light in the basement. Here were three rooms; the first one beneath the kitchen, containing two coal bins; one for “hard” or anthracite coal for the base-burner which in winter occupied a place of honor in the back parlor; the other for “soft” or bituminous coal, for the kitchen range. This and the “laundry” under the bedroom ell, were paved with brick. There was a sink beneath the small room off the kitchen where the dishes were done; and every week an immigrant German woman would come and scrub the dirty clothes by hand on a corrugated tin washboard, and hang them on a rope line in the back yard. After this laborious process was completed, she would rest by sloshing the wash water of the kitchen floor and scrubbing the wooden boards—just while resting.

Behind the first room—or toward the front of the house, was the store-room. Beside the toilet, was a board-floor covered area where a miscellany accumulated through the years, was housed; lawnmower and hose, divers tools, scrap lumber, etc. Uncle Bob had installed an iron bar, hung from three joists, on which he and later Millard and I strengthened our muscles by doing pull-ups. (Thanks to this, being avid for some morsel of human glory, I prepared for the beginning-and-end gymnasium tests, by going through the exercises every day. As a result, I was second only to a cripple with a shrunken leg, who had arms like other’s legs and a light body. I also starred in the pole-climb, and was named in the newspaper review of the physical program conducted by the West and South side high schools).

To complete the floor plan of this interesting house, there was a ….off a cubby-hole a scant 2 ft. wide and six or so deep, off the fifth room, a small bedroom, which held a miscellany of infrequently used clothing and equipment.

(The reason for this circumstantial account of the house and its uses is that while seeking to reconstruct the world of Grandpa Barrett (1812-1904) I searched in vain through the exhaustive histories in the library, only to discover that historians were concerned only with political and public life, not at all with what one would most naturally want to know—what people ate, wore, used, how they worked, played, perhaps even sinned. Only historical novels helped to satisfy this curiosity. Possibly this rambling and of course very partial account will help the young to live with us who are going the way of all flesh, and thank God and human enterprise and ingenuity for providing them with so much their ancestors lacked.)

It was during this period that my first vivid memory comes. We four, now including baby Philip, went to Chicago to the World’s Colombian Exposition. One afternoon they jailed me in a large, bleak and bare room, furnished only with child-proof fences. They could carry the baby; but I was too much for a day-long portage, and of course not equal to the interminable hoofing it through the exhibition halls and walkways. Feeling betrayed and abandoned, I set up a howl which naturally fell on deaf ears, or most on none at all. One fortunate neighbor had a baby-sitter, who entertained him with a supply of toys. After they had looked my way and ascertained that I was not in mortal agony or dire peril, they ignored me, and left me to continued outcries, then to glum silence. The sequel I have forgotten; only Father explained that the reason for my ordeal was that I couldn’t have kept up with them in their travels; and my indignant assurance that I could too have gone along.

My earliest recollections of a home—what I have said about the Milwaukee house comes from memories of later terms there—is the parsonage at Prairie du Sac, Wis., where Father served as Presbyterian minister until his death five years after coming there, and burying Mother, who died at 24, after baby Richard was born. Here I went to a short summer term of kindergarten, attended nearly two years of school, got my first well-deserved switching, broke my first bone—“shin-bone” as Phil called it; and in general, caused my long-suffering Father and in lesser degree, other intimates, more anxiety and grief than most youngsters do.

Being situated in a small town of some 600, it is natural that I found the house there and the community lacking in many of the amenities Milwaukee provided. The limited observation and faulty memory of that early period makes it impossible to reconstruct the life or its facilities in detail. But what I can recall, you will note, comes from the 19^th Century; and requires considerable imagination to grasp. The house was an ordinary two-story structure, with such fittings as other middle-class residences boast of. The first floor, of course, contained kitchen, dining room, parlor and the master bedroom; the second provided sleeping rooms one of which Father used for his study. As in Milwaukee, there was no furnace; I presume the parlor stove was a base-burner; I remember the upstairs stoves, with wooden boxes for fuel and kindling. The place was well lit by lamps. I vividly remember Father’s “student lamp”, carried along wherever he lived, having illuminated his textbooks during his seminary days. It consisted of a white-plated metal frame, one side holding a quart-sized kerosene can, the other a lamp assembly with a round wick, a slender glass chimney, and a white porcelain shade. The center rod or small pipe was topped by a ring for convenience in carrying. There was a large glass-doored bookcase, which I seem to have inherited, as Uncle Will had it in Geneseo and offered to pay me for it, as he needed it and it would be costly to move. I remember I told him to keep it, since he had done so much for me.

I well remember Father poring over his laboriously written manuscripts, (of course there were no typewriters in general use then) and pacing back and forth conning over his sermons. Bald as an ostrich egg, except for a fringe over the ears, he wore a black silk skull-cap, evidently to keep a sensitive pate warm.

Naturally there was an inevitable privy—no plumbing in town; and a barn, unoccupied, since we never afforded horse and buggy, but in his infrequent pastoral trips into the country, he borrowed Assemblyman Conger’s old mare Babe and a one-seated rig. Some cast-off pamphlets were stored in the hay-mow. In what is now the garage, then the poach-room with large sliding door, he had rigged up a swing from me, often pushing me as I soared through the air.

Since there was no plumbing, we had to dispose of our garbage and swill—dirty dish-water,-- by having a “skip-hole” dug in the barnyard—some 3 feet deep and six square. Here the maid would throw all our refuse-- a noisome slimy affair. One day next-door playmate Charlie Meisser, left to our tender care while his Mother was spending an afternoon visiting, playing too close, slipped and fell into the hole, among the peelings and a toad or two. His frantic screams brought the house-women running; who rescued him, taking him into the house and removing his befouled waist, putting one of mine—a blouse, with wide-flowing collar, made of blue cloth with a pattern of small white anchors—a beautiful creation!

This is a good place for a tribute to those house-women. The kitchen maid was the late-adolescent daughter of a German farmer near town. I remember nothing of her, except that she was there. The woman who next to my sainted month, did more to make life ____ was a spinster named Florest (“Flousie”) Squires. Through the many years since I have trusted that God in His merciful bounty, has rewarded her, who gave me the last love I basked under, until Alma became my wife and home-maker. The few memories of that era head me to wonder how one not a natural mother, could have had such an attachment for the little devil I must have been, as I remember she really had.

When I came to Prairie du Sac, there were no electric, lights, or of course, running water or plumbing. A couple of years later, while the parsonage didn’t glory in the new illumination, lights were installed at each street corner—on a telephone pole equipped with a bracket reaching out over the dirt road, a bulb with primitive carbon filament, topped by a foot-wide porcelain or enamel reflector, which threw what seemed a brilliant circle of light on the snow-covered winter ground. There were two sizes of bulbs, 16- and 32-candle power. Watts had not yet been heard of.

Each house and public building had its pump, usually with a tin dipper for the convenience of thirsty passers-by, and surrounded by a wooden platform to raise users above the soggy lawn or muddy street, and often with a wooden trough to carry un-caught water away from the favored spot. Of course every building had eaves troughs with down-spouts, to catch the rainwater, which was conveyed to a barrel at a corner or, as later in New London, into a wooden tank in the basement, into which a pipe was stuck, leading to a short-handled pump in the kitchen’s primitive sink. This soft water was perfect for washing purposes—detergents except purchased or home-made soap were unheard of.

Clothes were sprinkled when about dry from the lines, rolled tight to let the water seep through the entire fabric, then ironed, usually Tuesday after Monday wash-day. Each household had several iron flatirons, toward the years of refinement, instead of wooden handles equipped with a spring catch which engaged a depression and cross-bar in the iron, we had all-metal affairs which were placed on the back of the range, and the hottest taken up with a padded cloth holder and used until too cool; then exchanged for another one.

Father (or Papa, as we called him—he used the more genteel term for Grandpa who lived with us a good part of time) had quite a respectable garden in the side yard, the crop I remember best being potatoes, which he would sprinkle every few days using a 3-gal. spoutcan with sprinkler head, filled with a solution of paris green, a deadly poison which controlled the thriving potato bugs.

There was a bountiful supply of snow every winter; and it was a real chore to remove each fall from the long walk—we were on a corner lot. One of my jobs was to ride on the plow, made of 3’ boards fastened at about right angles, braced in various directions, and supplied with a strong push-handle reaching up to about waist level, fitted with a short cross-piece which the operator gripped and pushed. The town engaged men with single horses, which plodded along public walks dragging a king-sized plow weighted to hold it down to earth.

I remember being cared for—perhaps just after Mother’s death—in a swank residence in town. I enjoyed watching carpenters rebuilding the window sash in downstairs rooms, and installing weights fastened to the lower frame, leading over a pulley at the top of the opening, ready when the window was unlatched, to draw it up to the desired height. The Milwaukee house never had these luxuries. Grandma had pieces of half inch molding, just long enough to hold the sash clear up. If one was careless and put the thing in at an angle, as passers-by might see the disgrace, he was definitely instructed to move it over next to the frame.

I have mentioned the lack of plumbing. A homely but essential item of house furnishing was the chamber set, consisting of large water pitcher and washbowl, usually a small pitcher for shaving water, perhaps soap dish, those on the top of a commode, table-high, with a full-width drawer under the flat top, and beneath on one half, a deep drawer for linens, on the other a door with latch, concealing a chamber pot, or possibly for fluent occupants, a slop-jar, nearly a foot deep, with wire handle and close-fitting cover. The word pot was definitely understood to refer not to culinary devices, but to baser uses in the chamber. An earthy couplet from my childhood comes to mind:

“Went upstairs to light the candle,
Fell over the ___pot and broke the handle.”

A tale is told about a newly-married baseball umpire, who was presented with a chamber set. Upon unpacking it, he discovered the pot was badly cracked. He complained to the dealer: “You delivered my chamber set, and I found one of the pieces was cracked.” “Was it the pitcher?” the salesman asked, “No, it was the catcher! (Delicate publishers may, if desired, delete those last lines.)

An early recollection centers about an apparent infection in a nameless area, of which I complained. So Father arranged for a circumcision—a rarity in those days. I remember being stood before a window in the parlor, beside the folding sending table, on which were diverse strange objects. A woman seems to have had an active part in the ceremony, for I thought she was a doctor. Later Aunt Nan insisted there was no woman doctor in small places like ours – she was obviously a nurse, imported for the occasion. I remember making enthusiastic out-cries, though I don’t recall the pain.

The only real need I had for a doctor’s help was when I broke my leg. It seems I was under discipline for some of my many misdemeanors; and forbidden to leave the yard. To get as far out as possible, I climbed up on the picket fence separating us from our next door neighbor. Grandpa called out from the door: “Newton, didn’t your Father tell you not to leave the place?” In haste I jumped down. What happened is still a mystery – doubtless a hole in the knee of my overalls caught on a picket and I hung in midair, screaming until rescued. Apparently my “shin-bone” as Phil called it, was broken (the tibia.) There was no hospital in or near Prairie du Sac. (There was one a couple of blocks from us in Milwaukee.) Nor were there any telephones there. So Grandpa set out on hotfoot for the doctor’s house, and Father for his office. Flossie removed permanent ornament from the dining room table – a device with four receptacles, one each for salt, pepper, vinegar, and something else I forget—stripped off a 2” checked red and white table cloth, and laid me up there. She cut my nice black stocking from knee to ankle and removed it without moving my afflicted leg. I remember wondering, when I had always been instructed to preserve my raiment, she was demolishing mine. The doctor arrived in due course, evidently gave me chloroform—ether, etc. where not yet in common use—set the leg and put on a plaster-of-paris cast, which I wore for seven weeks. It was evidently a good job, as I never had the slightest after-effects.

I refrain from recounting several diverting episodes which demonstrated my fertile imagination and melancholy penchant for deviltry; perhaps I will live to expand these pages with belated confessions. What I have said is designed to illumine the dim and distant past and, I trust, induce appropriate thanksgivings in the hearts of the younger generation, whom Providence has brought to birth in this far more congenial age.

One Saturday Father evidently caught a cold, probably from exerting himself unduly in plowing snow. Anyway for the first time he was unable to take his place in the pulpit next morning; but lay in bed struggling for breath. I happened to be in the upstairs bedroom with him for a while; and he gasped, “Newton, pillow!” With a real effort I grasped the fact that he wanted me to hand him a pillow. This I did—my last service to him. He painfully worked it under his head and shoulders, and, I think, breathe somewhat easier. I was sent over to the Felix’ where I ate supper with the playmates and their parents there. As I was at table, Mr. Felix came in weeping, and said in a broken voice, “Newton, your papa has gone to Jesus!” What was called a stroke of apoplexy had seized him; and he apparently fell I guess from a rocker near the stove, his head striking a corner of the woodbox next to it. Grandpa was either in the room or came in at once, for a paper I still have recounts the main facts of this tragedy. I remember sitting next to Uncle Will in the parlor near the black cloth-covered casket, and an interminable funeral service in the Church, enriched by diverse eulogies from brother ministers; then the procession—I had a coach ride! To the cemetery, where I looked down into the gaping hole in the ground, graciously lined with white flannel, into which four men holding ropes under head and foot ends of the casket, lowered it slowly down into the wooden box at the bottom. I have visited the grave several times since—he lies beside my Mother who preceded him by three years in death.

How it was arranged or by whom I never knew; but Uncle Will, Mother’s eldest brother, Pastor of the Congregational Church of New London, informed me that I was to go home with him. Of course we went by train—the well-developed means of transportation beyond the range of horse and buggies. There I abode with him, Aunt Marion and 4-month-old Jessica.

For the first (and until my last residence, the only) time of my life, I shared a brand-new house with relatives. Every modern device enjoyed by small-city dwellers had been provided. In fact, a few minor jobs were still not completed until later. It was fine large frame house, with full basement, and two or three bedrooms in the front part of the second story, the rest partly finished and designed for an attic. For several evenings after I came, masons came in and laid ornamental tiles in the area before the fireplace. Heat was supplied by a big furnace in the basement, which also contained a great vat or cistern, to store the soft water running into it from the eaves and down-spouts outside. A fine new kitchen sink graced the cook’s domain, with a drain-board for washed dishes; and a pump to draw the cistern water as needed. A good serviceable pump was installed over the well in the back year, and one of my chores was to bring in a small pail-full or two each morning for drinking and cooking. In the yard was a model privy, with the usual facilities; and a clothes-reel, an improvement over lines running across the yard. It consisted of a stout upright post, topped by an iron rod, upon which was balanced a revolving reel—four 2X4 studs about 18 feet long, reaching out in the four main directions of the compass, braced to support the weight of wet clothes. Every 2 feet a wire line was passed around the square, through holes in the arms. The laundress could stand by her basket of washed clothes and hang the pieces on one line or the other, moving it about until a bare wire came to her.

Just before I came to New London, the school-boy’s dream had come true—the schoolhouse had burned down. By coincidence, the Congregational Church was vacant, since Uncle Will had led the people in building a few new red stone building, not far away. The school board secured use of the frame structure; and installed partitions probably eight feet high, which made three rooms; two toward the pulpit and the third occupying the front third. The older children passed through this primary room to their respective places. In lieu of desks, 18 inch boards were fastened to the backs of the pews at a slight angle, so the children were permitted to carve grooves near the upper edge, to hold pencils and pens. I don’t remember whether places for the books were also built in or which seems more likely, the pupils laid their equipment on the seats beside them. Of course nothing was sound-proof—any usual noise from one room was heard throughout the building.

One morning, with no apparent preparation or administrative intent, a sweet young voice, probably feminine, rose from a room other than mine, in the devotional song which some of the grades used during the regular opening minutes of each day’s session. I have written it down, harmonizing the appealing simple tune, with the words:

Father, we thank Thee for the night,
And for the pleasant morning light;
For rest, and food, and loving care,
And all that makes the world so fair.
Help us to do the things we should,
To be to others kind and good,
In all we do, in work or play,
To grow more loving every day.

No interruption or other sound, during the singing of the entire song.

During recess, we all ran over to the site of the burned-down building, to poke and prowl among the ruins for any chance non-combustible treasures—fused pieces of window glass, corroded nails, or odd bits of metal. This continued through the few remaining weeks of the term. The following fall those in my grade and doubtless the others, went around by the bridge, across the Wolf River to the north side school, in some way finding accommodation with those living in that district, as I remember it, the upper grade sharing one of the two rooms there. By the next year, a fine modern new schoolhouse had been completed on the site of the old one. I was proud to be one of the first generation of children to inaugurate this challenging building. The last time I visited the town, in the early 1960’s they were demolishing the old outdated structure, in favor of an up-to-date building.

Since the new Church was not quite ready for occupancy, we held services in the Opera House, then a splendid and commodious affair, still in use when I last passed by it. I report with embarrassment and regret, that I went up on the stage, while Uncle Will was busy with final preparation for the service, marched to the front and shouted, “Ba, ba ba!” Of course some of the silly worshipers thought it was funny, and giggled or laughed outright. My regimen had not yet reached the later point where I was unmercifully flogged when Uncle Will decreed that I deserved it; but I think I was silenced for the rest of the day, not permitted to utter a word ‘til Monday morning.

My Sunday School class met in the upper gallery, “peanut gallery” it was called, above the larger balcony constituting the second floor. I wouldn’t have noticed it, but another boy with better olfactory equipment, growled, “Gee! The air stinks up here!” With no doors or windows in that exalted purview, it is not surprising that the air was amply stale.

It was a thrill to enter the spanking-new Church. Here I came into close contact with my first electric lights. Simple carbon bulbs, hung from the ceiling by the old-fashioned two-strand extension wire. During the two years I lived there, the parsonage was not wired for modern lighting. While the old house in Milwaukee had no refrigeration, and perishables must be set down on the brick floor in the laundry room in the basement, usually cool enough for practical purposes, the New London place had an ice-box; something similar to our refrigerators beneath, zinc-lined wooden affair, with a door which had a elaborate latch to keep it sealed; above, a zinc-lined chamber large enough for a 50-pound cake of ice, which lasted, I think, for two days, until our neighbor Mandachke, (Aunt Marian parodied it to Handshake), delivered a fresh chunk, hauled from his ice-house on the river bank, filled each winter with chunks out from the 2-foot thick cover we could always depend on throughout the Wisconsin cold season; preserved during hot weather by being thickly covered with sawdust.

New London boasted a large sawmill on and about the river, with a “boom” or log-and chain-enclosed back-water into which logs from the still heavily-wooded country up north, were floated downstream. This had long since disappeared—only a lumber-yard now uses the riverside area.

I should have mentioned the convenience which Jack Frost provided for us—instead of walking clear down to the bridge and back north or west again, we walked across the ice to school throughout most of the term.

The customary costume of the day was blouse waist and knee-pants, with long black stockings and ankle-high shoes. For best, we had a three-piece suit, with jacket and vest. By now I think I didn’t have such velvet leggings which in Prairie du Sac were buttoned over my calves, as many as 17 buttons being fastened and unfastened every time I went out and came in. A strap which went under the instep of my shoes held the leggings down. I forget how they were held up, but I think they were rigid enough to stay in place. Especially during marble season, when kids groveled about on their knees in the dirt, my elders supplied me with knee-caps, ordered from Sears, Roebuck & Co.’s catalog, circles of shiny leather, shaped to a semi-cuplike shield, were held over the knees by two narrow elastic ribbons, snapped by miniature snaps to knobs on the opposite side of the leg. My hose thus survived for weeks. At least throughout the winter period, I’m not sure but all year round, we wore full-length underwear, mostly two-piece. Naturally our summer equipment was of gingham-weight stuff. Hands were protected by mittens, not gloves – each finger helped keep the rest from freezing, though it was a real chore to dry the cloth or leather between uses.

I liked to stop before going home from school at Mrs. Hermann’s, and chat with Kitty, a few years older and Hazel Boyington, a motherless niece. One day they cried, “Why, Newton’s nose is frozen!” They went out and brought in enough snow to rub on it until it thawed out.

Bicycling was growing in popularity. The old high-wheel affairs had given way about the time I was born, to machines much like those in use today. Shortly before his death, Father bought a bike for exercise, to try to reduce his exceedingly fat flesh. Racing, of course, was in vogue. About the time I was settled in New London the report went out that Claude Brown, an adolescent, had won the town race, and was the hero of the day.

Not far from our house was a rim factory. There were usually rejects, rims warped too badly to pass inspection; and every kid had one for a hoop. Many school children rode to school, especially those from the country. A favorite prank, which I was conspicuous for playing, was to let the air out of the tires while the owner was occupied elsewhere. A well-equipped bike had a leather case strapped to the frame, containing a small hand-pump, as well as a few simple and commonly used tools, a small oilcan, etc. At home many had a much better device, a large pump with a projection at the base so one could hold it in position with one foot; and a handle long enough for both hands to push the plunger down. Before garages were heard of, bike shops flourished; and a common service was inflation of soft tires. Tandems usually with woman’s frame in front and man’s behind, were every-day affairs; and occasionally extension to three, possibly four riders available. Roads were not dependable—Milwaukee had surfaced streets of various materials; but towns rarely had anything better than gravel upon the pure mud roadway. Soft sand scarcely facilitated propelling a bike; and winter ruts practically prohibited cycling in cold weather.

Histories inform us that modern conveniences were invented many years before I ever saw them; only gradually did they come into common use. Edison invented the incandescent light bulb in 1879—just as I moved to St. Louis, a great celebration with parade and ornamental lights everywhere, commemorated the 50^th anniversary. But as I have said, I never lived with electricity until I moved into the Milwaukee YMCA dormitory in 1908; though as I mentioned, the New London Church was equipped with primitive bulbs. I remember the “plant” on the north side, a plain store-like building, with a one-lung gasoline engine, which generated enough juice to meet the limited needs of the town.

So it was with the telephone—my encyclopedia declares that Bell invented it in 1878; but no parsonage until the one in Geneseo was supplied with one. My first contact with this device was at the aforementioned Herrmann’s house—he was in real estate, and evidently well-to-do. The new instrument had just been installed; and as they had so many people on the wire, they lifted me up to the wall phone; and I got so close to it that I nearly bit a piece out of the rubber mouthpiece. Every kid with ingenuity rigged up a home-made set, with cigar boxes for sets, and store string for wires. They swore that they actually heard each other at some distance. This leads to a mention of the wide use of cotton string. Food was sold in bulk; dry stuff poured into paper sacks, and these tied with string. Grandma frugally saved every piece that came to the house, tying it to the ball she had wound from already preserved lengths—it grew until about the size of a soft-ball. Many household uses were found for it—in spring, she trained her morning-glory vines to the back porch floor, whence they climbed up the lattice which enclosed the porch.

It requires a bit of thought to grasp the fact that the 20^th century didn’t begin on New Year’s 1900, but at the end of this year. What I have recounted thus far occurred in the 19^th Century; and I well recall the furor attending the dawn of the 20^th.

In this day of prepackaged and variously treated foodstuffs, I think our youth would be shocked if transported into an old-style grocery or general store. I have mentioned the septic bulk retailing of milk. In Milwaukee the large dairies were introducing pasteurization, which most people insisted had to do with the field from which the cows derived the raw material of the life-giving fluid. Tuberculosis was a too general affliction, perhaps the chief cause of death. Only well into this century did authorities require tuberculin testing of all dairy cows. Bread was sold in bulk—unwrapped un-sliced laves. Nobody brought up in this automotive age can visualize the cloud of flies fresh from manure piles, sick-rooms and garbage dumps, which defied the almost useless screen doors on every house and store. Cheese was sold by the slice or wedge—a round cheese lay on the guillotine platform, and was cut from center to rim by a knife attacked to a hand lever; then a small rotation of the platform, made ready for the next cut.

A common commodity was kerosene, mainly for illumination in lamps of diverse types. We had a gallon bottle encased in a tin shell, having large gaps through which me might see how far down the contents had sunk as we poured lamp-fulls from the spout at the top. Adhesive tape was unknown—every merchant had a big supply of cotton string, provided with a holder or dispenser usually broken off at the proper length by the dealer’s tough-skinned hands; and used to tie the paper-sheet-wrapped purchase, making all fast by an adept knot.

Though bread was sold as I mentioned, most of it was produced at home—one day or two a week saw baking as the day-long feature act. The commonest type of yeast (unless it was a packaged chunk of dry stuff, principally cornmeal impregnated with the enzyme) was a piece of grey stuff about like a bar of laundry soap, and sold by the slice for a penny each. The salesman took a piece of store string, and pressed it down on the cake to make a slice perhaps 3/8 inch wide—then wrapping it in a small package.

One day I was sent to the neighborhood store to get something; and I was intrigued by an ingenious device designed to cut the tip off newly-purchased cigars. With more curiosity than judgment, I put my finger down into the depression in the top of the machine, pressed slightly, and click! A spring operated knife within snipped off the end of my finger—not maiming my hand, but bringing blood to the surface. I asked the grocer, in terror, “will this bleed me to death?” The good-natured German laughed, and reassured me that the wound was not mortal.

The memories of a grandson of Dr. Moses Barrett

Dr. Moses Barrett, 1816 - 1873 was the ggggrandfather of the Barrett Brothers.
His daughter was Eliza Frances Barrett 1841 - 1909. She married William Millard.
Their daughter was Edith Holton Millard 1870 - 1895. She married Frank F. Barrett (her 4th cousin once removed).
Their son was Newton Eliot Barrett, 1890 - 1986, the grandfather of the Barrett Brothers.

The author of this letter was Robert E. Millard, a brother to Edith Holton Millard and a grandson of Dr. Moses Barrett. Robert was a flutist with the Portland, Oregon symphony orchestra.

From a letter by Robert E. Millard – Flutist
3908 Council Crest Drive
Portland, Oregon
May 7, 1939

The clipping from the Wautoma, Wisconsin paper about grandfather Barrett and the Millard tribe is an excellent one and well written too. It recalls anecdotes Mother used to tell of her childhood in that village so long ago. Once when Mother, Helen and I visited Will in Auroraville, the latter took Mother and me on a trip to Wautoma, and the visit to her childhood home brought forth many anecdotes of her sire, the rifleman-doctor of that country. After a light fall of snow in the late autumn about the year of Grace 1849 the rural aesculapius would, according to Mother, get out a chunk of lead and a small iron melting pot, and proceed to cast rifle bullets over the kitchen stove in preparation for a deer hunt on the following day. He was a fine marksman, was Dr. Moses Barrett, and Mother said he was the only man anywhere around who could hit a flying pigeon with a rifle bullet. If he could that, and Mother solemnly swore to it, I can readily believe that he was the only one in the neighborhood who could do it, because such a feat with a rifle is a darned good one; more than that, it is artistry. Evidently this Moses, the medical marksman, observed as his first and greatest commandment, “Thou shalt not waste ammunition.”

Mother said that once he offered $5.00 to anyone who would bring him a specimen of a bald eagle for his collection. (This was after his practice had developed and he had not much time to go hunting.) One of the Bugh boys, who were hunters, reported one day that they had sighted a bald eagle, but that it was too far away to hit; “If you would have been there, Doc, you’d have got him.”

Mother said that once a blacksmith living some miles away had the misfortune to drop an anvil on his big toe, and he was brought in a wagon to Grandfather’s house for treatment. The patient was laid on his back with his head and shoulders inside the front door and his legs outside where the light was good. Then grandmother, who was a stout woman, sat on his let to hold it still. Mother bathed his temples with camphor (miserable substitute for anesthesia) and grandfather whacked off the mutilated digit with a knife which he had honed on the family Bible. We may justly be proud of our hardy forbears, but think of the pride the descendants of the blacksmith must feel!

An imaginative biographer of the smith might refer to the latter love and enthusiasm for football in the early days of that sport, manifesting itself in practicing the dropkick with the anvil!

Ah! Those were the days when men were men – and the women were glad of it.

Dr. Moses Barrett 1816 - 1873

Dr. Moses Barrett was the ggggrandfather of the Barrett Brothers.
His daughter was Eliza Frances Barrett 1841 - 1909. She married William Millard.
Their daughter was Edith Holton Millard 1870 - 1895. She married Frank F. Barrett (her 4th cousin once removed).
Their son was Newton Eliot Barrett, the grandfather of the Barrett Brothers.

The following biographical sketch was published soon after Dr. Barrett's death in the Transactions of State Medical Society, 1871-1874 Article 17. p.109 (the State Medical Society of Wisconsin, presumably) by an apparently very admiring colleague of Dr. Barrett's.

BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF

MOSES BARRETT, M.D.

Dr. Moses Barrett was born at Rowe, Mass., on February 28^th, 1816. He studied medicine with Dr. Bassett, of Rowe, and attended lectures in the Berkshire Medical School, Pittsfield, Mass. where he graduated in 1836.

He practiced medicine at Charlemont, Mass., until 1842. He then went to Chesterfield, Mass., but moved to Le Roy, Genesee Co., N.Y. in 1842.

In 1850 his health compelled a change of climate and occupation, and he removed to Wisconsin, locating in Wautoma, Waushara Co. Abandoning all study and giving himself to much out-of-door exercise upon his farm in this new country, he soon became somewhat restored in health. In this place he filled the office of County Treasurer and was mainly instrumental in organizing a Congregational Church and, also, a grade school. He was an earnest Sabbath School worker and ever maintained some form of public worship in the absence of a minister. He always, and everywhere, identified himself with religious and educational interests.

Having recovered his health, with a view of entering upon the more active duties of his profession, he removed to Milwaukee in 1859. In 1860, he received the appointment of Superintendent of the State Reform School at Waukesha. He held this position and performed the duties of Superintendent, physician and chaplain, until the fall of 1865, when his health compelled him to resign. He performed his professional work in Waukesha and Milwaukee, until the fall of 1873, when he was appointed Professor of Chemistry and Natural Science in Ripon College, where he died on Nov. 9^th 1873, after a brief illness.

Dr. Barrett was a thorough and untiring student, distinguished both for his scope and accuracy. There was scarcely a branch of knowledge to which he did not give some special attention. He possessed the capacity of rapid absorption and appropriation of the salient points of any and every subject. He was equally at home in Theology and Philosophy. He was broadly read in literature and an expert in all branches of Natural Science. He was as quick as light in all his mental processes and nothing escaped his observation. He thoroughly compassed whatever was the subject of his study. Men, not infrequently, make themselves proficient in some one branch of Natural Science, but Dr. Barrett was a master in all. He kept himself, even with the discoveries in the sciences, not more by his wide knowledge of what others were doing than by his own original studies.

His collections in the various departments of Natural History were comprehensive and of great scientific value. He was, in fact, that rare man – an investigator. Crowded full of knowledge he was the most interesting and inspiring of tutors and companions. Did you approach him on almost any topic, even your own specialty, yet before him you grew ashamed of the poverty of your own attainments.

He was not niggardly of his stores. He poured them forth as ardently and as unconsciously as a child. He had no conceit. He had knowledge and he gave it in simple joy to impart it.

That such a man should have had a reputation so small in proportion to his greatness, is due to his extreme modesty and his utter inability to practice the arts of self-assertion.

Dr. Barrett brought to the practice of medicine the same zeal for investigation which characterized him elsewhere. He added to this trait the sound judgment which made him a safe physician and an exquisite mechanical genius that helped to make him one of the best surgeons. He was sensitive to the very spirit of medical ethics, and modest beyond what was for his personal advantage. Utterly sincere and blunt in speech, he was incapable of profiting by the weakness of others. If his services were sought it must be because his real worth was appreciated. His success in gaining practice was no measure of his skill in it.

Death removed him at a time when he had assumed a position in which his genius and knowledge would have been, more widely then before, an inspiration and a help to others. In his death the cause of education has lost a comprehensive scholar—apt to teach. The medical profession has lost one of its most enthusiastic students and a skillful practitioner. Science an ardent, untiring observer. The Church has lost a member who walked with the Master above reproach. The State has lost an honest man and his personal friends have lost as true a companion as ever clasped a hand.

The following is a newspaper obituary of Dr. Barrett originally published in the Milwaukee Sentinel and then reprinted in the Waukesha Freeman (Waukesha, Wisc), on Nov. 13, 1873

Obituary
Dr. Moses Barrett.

Barrett, Dr. Moses, died at Ripon, Nov. 9, 1873 of congestion of the lungs.

The death of Dr. Barrett, which occurred at Ripon, is to be lamented by his numerous friends in this city. The deceased settled in Wautoma in 1851 and represented the people of his section to their satisfaction in the new county organization.

Subsequently, Dr. Barrett was called as Superintendent of the State Reform School, on its establishment at Waukesha. He held the position for five years when his arduous service in behalf of the State undermined his health and obliged him to resign the place. He never fully recovered his strength but regained his health sufficiently to enable him to follow his profession here. A memorial of his scientific attainments exits in the valuable collection of natural history, geology, etc. at the Milwaukee Female Academy.

The Waukesha Freeman newspaper also published on Nov. 13. 1873 the following:

Dr. Moses Barrett, for many years a resident of Waukesha but, more recently of Milwaukee, died in Ripon on the 9^th of November and his remains were brought here for burial. Dr. Barrett had, only recently, accepted the position of lecturer on Natural Science at Ripon College.

Obituary of the great-grandfather of the Barrett brothers

This newspaper obituary of the great-grandfather of the Barrett brothers -- Rev. Frank F. Barrett has just come to their attention:

Obituary – Rev. F. F. Barrett

Frank F. Barrett was born at Milan, Ohio, October 20, 1850. He fitted himself for college at Galesburg, Ill. In 1864 though only a lad of fourteen, his patriotism and love of country led him to seek admittance to the army. His request for admission was not refused and he joined the 137^th Illinois Infantry, as a drummer boy. Shortly after the close of the war he entered Beloit College, graduating in the class of ’71. From there he went to Chicago and spent the two following years studying law. Although this was his chosen profession there was a conviction that he ought to entry the ministry, and so in 1877 he entered Yale College and spent the three years subsequent there and at Union Theological Seminary, NY, pursuing theological studies. His first pastorate was at Evansville, Wis., and then followed Dubuque and Marshalltown, Iowa. He had been having considerable trouble with his throat, so gave up his pastorate and went to Milwaukee for the purpose of receiving treatment. While there he received a call to preach from the Pilgrim Congregational church in that city, and became its first pastor. The summer of 1888 was spent in Europe. Returning to this country the following summer, he took charge of the Madison Squire Presbyterian church in San Antonio, Texas. His reason for locating so far south was upon the advice of his physician.

He was united in marriage, Oct. 1, 1889, with Miss Edith Millard of Milwaukee. Three children were born to them, all of whom are living.

In San Antonio the position of a northern pastor was a very delicate one, yet he left there with the very highest testimonials of the entire pastorate of the city. Resigning his charge in the spring of 1891 he came north, and in the autumn of that year came to Prairie du Sac where he has been ever since. In February, 1895 providence saw fit to remove his beloved companion from him. Though this stroke was an exceedingly severe one, he bore up under it with that fortitude which ever characterized the man.

Of his ministry in this place but little need be said. He ever had the welfare of his people foremost, and sought ever to upbuild the church and community. In turn no pastor was ever more highly esteemed by his people and all classes than was he. Since his pastorate here the church has more than doubled its membership.

He died very suddenly Sunday, March 13, from an affection of the heart. He had no premonition of this fatal attack, and passed away leaving no parting word to family or parish. The funeral services were held in his own dear church Wednesday, March 16. Rev. H. E. Erffmeyer, pastor of the Eveangelical church, spoke of Mr. Barrett as a pastor and fellow citizen; Rev. Dr. Campbell of Lodi, paid a touching tribute to him as a coworker; Rev. W.J. Turner, pastor of the Presbyterian church at Kilbourn, preached a very nice sermon that was greatly appreciated by the large number of people present. The remains were interred beside those of his companion in the village cemetery.

This is the contents of a book written in 1886 by Rev. Newton Barrett. As explained in the first paragraph Rev. Barrett has incorporated and expanded on data compiled by his father Simon Barrett in 1825. Thus most of the data in the book has been compiled by interviewing relatives and from personal knowledge and recollection of the author.

The Barretts in America

Genealogy of the Barrett Family

By Newton Barrett, Elkhorn, Wis. 1886

Deacon Simon Barret of Woodstock, Connecticut, at his death in 1838, left “A Family Record of the Births and Deaths of Smith Barret’s Family,” which he seems to have copied from an original record, on his leaving Woodstock in 1807 or 1809, and afterward extended. It begins with the birth of Moses Barret in 1685, which Moses was the father of the Woodstock branch of the family. Simon continued his record to 1830. The present record is able to add five generations to the five with which it begins – three earlier and two later – and to include Thomas Barrett, Sr., who unites the New with the Old England division of our family.

Thomas Barrett Senior’s parents and home in England this record cannot identify. His lineage is not lost but becomes indistinguishable before 1600; the name is in Doomsday Book 1086, and is found repeatedly thenceforward among both noble and ignoble. Authorities say that Barret was found as a Saxon name in England before the Norman Conquest in 1066, and is from a Teutonic root – but if it is found at all among German nations any actual instance is unknown, while it has been common immemorially in France and Italy and is traceable to a well known root – baret – in Celtic speech. The stronger probability is that the name of Barret came from France to England at the Norman Conquest and so spread through England and Ireland, in which it has long been and still is very prevalent. It is also becoming universal in this country by the constant emigrations from both its New England and British Centers. If the parentage of Thomas Barrett Sr. of Chelmsford, Mass., is ever discovered it will doubtless be in the parish registers or probate records of England somewhere between Old Boston and Old Chelmsford or from Canterbuy to Lincoln, Norwich, perhaps.

Judge Barret, Loveland, O., 1886, quotes Hasted’s History of Kent, 1790-1800? “The ancestor of the Kent Barrets is recorded in the Battle Abbey roll as one those who came over with William, and was present at Hastings in 1066.” “In Harleiian Mss. are several pedigrees. His descendants spread over Britain and into Ireland.”

Note. The best genealogical works are now becoming generally accessible. For the facts as to the name of Barret in Doomsday Book – in Saxon England and in France – a high authority is “Lower’s Patronymic Brittanica.” For the nobility of the name see “Burke’s General Armory” also “County Families of England and Ireland” and a volume of “Coats of Arms” (illustrated folio) copies of all of which are in the Library of the New England Genealogical Society, Boston. For a single explicit instance, see Mumford’s “Local Names of Norfolk”, which says that “Ringsted Parva”a “hundred” or pariah in Doomsday Book was called “Barret Ringsted” from the Barrets who were lords of that place from Henry IV. To Henry VII. Or 1400 to 1500. Green’s History of England, Book III. Chap. I., says: “A separate Franch town was side by side with the English borough 1200 A.D. at Norwich.” I failed to find Barret in a three hour’s thumbing of Doomsday Book in Washington, 1887. Some poorhouse and penitentiary lists could be quoted for the ignoble end. Richard Barret was a servant (indented workman) in

The sources from which I have added the three earliest generations on this record are the town records of Cehlmsfor, Mass., and particularly a letter of Judge J.H. Barrett, Loveland, Clement Co., Ohio, for Thomas Barrett, Sr., dated June, 1885.

Line of Descent from Thomas Barrett Sr.,, 1660, to
Albert Edward Barrett, 1885

Born Died

Thomas England 1600? Chelmsford, Oct. 6

Barrett, Mass. 1668

Sr.

Thomas second England? Chelmsford, Dec. 8

Barrett son of Mass. 1702

Jr. Thoms Sr.

Moses only son Chelmsford Mar. 25 Chelmsford,

Barrett of Mass. 1662 Mass.

Sr. Thomas Jr.

Moses oldest Chelmsford Oct 27 Woodstock

Barrett son of Mass. 1685 Conn.

Jr. Moses Sr.

Smith third Chelmsford Jan. 2, Woodstock June 11

Barrett son of Mass 1716 age 69 1786

Moses Jr.

Daniel second Woodstock Mar. 15 Woodstock July 22

Barrett son of Conn. 1742 Conn. 1807

Smith

Simon sixth Woodstock Feb. 21 Springport Sept. 20

Barrett son of Conn. 1784 Mich. 1838

Daniel

Newton second Richland Sept. 28 Chicago Aug 9

Barrett son of Washingtonville 1812 Ill. 1904

Simon N.Y.

Edward oldest Breckville Mar. 4 Iowa City May 8,

Newton son of Ohio 1843 Iowa 1901

Barrett Newton

Albert oldest Austin, July15

Edward son of Cicero, 1871

Barrett Edward Ill.

Edward only Ann Arbor Mar. 9

Bowman son of Mich 1910

Barrett Albert

[handwritten additions to list]

John E. second son

Barrett of Newton

Frank third son

Frelinghusen of Newton

Barrett

Ada only daughter

Barrett of Newton

Newton oldest son of Aug 15

Eliot Frank 1890

Barrett

Philip second son of Oct 16,

Edward Frank 1892

Barrett

Richard third son of Jan 31 Aug 3

Leigh Frank 1893 1900

Barrett

Thomas Barrett

Thomas Barrett, the father of our family in this country, was one of the settlers who came over from England under the first great “Western Fever.” England under Elizabeth had grown to have more people than it could provide for with its old ideas and modes of living, so that people and ruler chafed and harried each other in town life and Church life and State life. The nation had found a world of new western land. The first of our periodical Western Fevers broke out violently. The great London and Plymouth Land Companies got these lands of the kings James I. and Charles I. and sold them out again to sub-companies or colonies for little direct money but for political and commercial equivalents. A few speculating courtiers, capitalists and merchants who saw large money in the new land, fisheries, pelts, crops and trade, brought or sent over their capital, goods and men. Many more of the surplus commoners who were sick of being underlings and wanted lands and shops and town and church meetings of their own took the new contagion and set their faces west.

The company officers drew up and published their offers of land, gathered their emigrants, hired their ships, loaded and sent them over. The landing on James River, Virginia, was 1607, at Plymouth Rock, 1620. A crew made wiser and stronger by their reports came to Salem and Boston in 1629 and 1630 and cabined at the mouth of the Charles River on both sides. Shipload followed shipload. The company set off land in bulk, so many miles square to so many settlers organized into a township. The town meeting laid out the land in “home lots” of 40 acres, more or less, allotted one to each man and held the rest for newcomers on the same terms. The company made such grants to single patentees sometimes, and by some means the settlers became often owners of much land additional to their gratuitous home lots. But every man, mechanic and farmer could have his home lot and so be a freeman. Indentured workmen so became freemen.

By 1635 eight towns had been settled about the Bay, Charlestown, Boston, Cambridge, Watertown, Lynn, Roxbury, Dorchester and Medford, and Concord, 20 miles north in the wilderness and Braintree, 10 miles south, had been organized in this day, and every town had also its church and minister. At least there were 7 churches. The nonconforming clergy and the Conventicle laity made the Fever a means of bringing nonconformity to New England and rendezvoused at Boston. Cotton was there. Elliott was at Roxbury in 1632. In 1635 3000 persons had entered the colony, of which 300 were lords of land and also members of churches and by these two qualifications were “freeman”, i.e. voters. They met at Cambridge once annually, en masse, and with the company officers for a senate formed the little congress of the colony, chartering and endowing with land new towns and regulating the older ones. To this little colony and at this time came our Thomas. By 1640 New Haven and Connecticutt River and Naragansett Bay and New Hampshire and Maine were opened. 21,000 immigrants had come in and brought an average of $40 per capita, $1,000,000. Not many Royalists, not many “churchmen” and yet secular as well as Puritan Yankees in both thinking and living.

1600-1668
Thomas Barrett, Sr.

1. The parentage – the place and time of birth – of the marriage and the arrival in New England of Thomas Barrett, Sr., and of his wife, the record cannot give, neither the place nor time of birth of their children.

2. In 1644 Thomas Barrett is on record in Braintree, 10 miles south of Boston, organized in 1625. There he signed, 1644, with his intimate friend, Edward Spalding, a petition for certain Naraganset lands, forfeited by Gorton (see E. E. Memorial 1638) Thomas Barrett Sr. or Jr. made freeman 1645. (Savage)

3. In 1662, Jan. 1, he made his will in which he names his wife, Margaret, and his sons, John, “the oldest”, Thomas Jr. and Joseph “the youngest”, with considerable estate. 1663 the Sr. and Jr. of Braintree have deed of land in Chelmsford (Col. W. B.)

4. In 1668, Oct. 6, Thomas Barrett died in Chelmsford, Mass.

5. In 1681, July 8, Margaret, wife of Thomas, Sr. died.

6. In 1659 John and Thomas, if not Joseph, the sons of Thomas Sr., had settled in Chelmsford – organized 1653 – and Thomas Sr. himself was owner of lands there before his will was made, making it unquestionable that he removed to Chelmsford at this date. That he had lived in Braintree to that date is probable, because Thomas Jr. had married there in 1655, and in 1659-62 becomes proprietor with his father.

7. Thomas Barrett, Jr. is conjectured to have been one of three sons of a John (or Thomas) Barret of England, and to have come to New England with his brothers about 1640. (1) The Concord Barrets have a legend one form of which is that about 1640 three brothers came over, of whom one died childless. The second settled in Concord, chartered 1633. That Humphrey had two sons only, Thomas and Humphrey Jr. Another version is that Humphrey Sr. had four sons (perhaps more) in Thomas, Humphrey, John and James, and that he died in Concord at the age of seventy, in 1662. (2) That Humphrey settled in Concord and had sons John and Thomas and made his will Jan. 1, 1662, is matter of record. (3) That Thomas Barrett Jr. was in Braintree as early as 1644, that he make his will Jan. 1, 1662, the same date as that of Humphrey, that he removed to and died in Chelmsford near Humphrey, and also had sons John and Thomas, are facts of record, making the inference most natural that Thomas and Humphrey were brothers and named their sons John and Thomas after their common forefather. (4) Strangely, it is on record that a third John and Thomas Barrett of like age, but who father is not known, were settled in Marlborough, next west of Concord, whch confirms the legend of the three brothers. Judge Barrett, of Loveland, Ohio, adopts this theory, that the father of the brothers was John. He has found the old wills in Cambridge.

The Concord genealogy was written as it claims in 1794. It settles the second of the three brothers in Boston. A Boston stock, beginning probably with Samuel, was formed at that date. But how the Concord compiler could have been ignorant of the Chelmsford family is unaccountable.

Thomas Barrett Sr.’s earlier life is outlined by the fact that his son Thomas was married in 1654. John was born before Thomas Jr. Their birth would more probably be before their parents came from England than after. If not, the parents were here 1630-1635. Humphrey is said to have come around 1640. The birth of Thomas Sr. must be dated not later than 1605, and couldhardly be as early as the legend puts Humphry’s, 1592. Th place of his birth had hardly a clue, but (1) Ths. B. Sr. in Braintree, 1644, had a friend Ed. Spalding; their families were intimate (Smith Barett married a Spalding.) (2) John Elliott had in his Roxbury Church Margaret Spalding, widow, borth Margaret Barrett, came from Norwich, England, 1633, to Roxbury. A Norwich Barrett might be father of Thomas. W. Appleton, of Boston, 1881, in N.E. Gen. Reg. believes Concord Barretts came from Kent.

John Barrett
Oldest Son of Thomas Barrett Sr.

1. John Barrett was the oldest son of Thomas and Margaret Barrett of Braintree, and of Chelmsford, Mass.

2. The time and place of the birth of John Barrett and of his wife, Sarah, also the parentage of his wife and time and place of their marriage cannot be given.

3. John Barrett and his wife, Sarah, are on the town records of Chelmsford as parents of a daughter, Lydia, born Sept. 22, 1659, and of Mary, born Mar. 13, 1662. John and Hannah are recorded as parents of Sarah born Mar. 30, 1658, in a different book of records John Barrett is recorded as joined with a son, Johnathan, in obtaining of the town a fulling mill site in 1688, May 3. Samuel and Sarah record a daughter Sarah born Mar. 20, 1685, which Samuel may be presumed to have been a brother of Johnathan, both born before John was in Chelmsford.

4. John Barrett obtains grant of 12 acres to be taxed as 8 acres and 13 acres bounded by Samuel Adams, Jan. 7, 1659. In 1663 he had leave to run his south line on south side of Great Brook.

5. In 1671 John Barrett is recorded as selectman and as tithing man in 1679. Judge Barrett calls him “Lieutenant” and locates him in the south part of Chelmsford.

6. The death of John Barrett is not on the record.

7. John Barrett, who is recorded as husband of Hannah, 1668, may not have been this son of Thomas, but a grandson, or Hannah may have been a mistake for Sarah. Otherwise, he was twice married.

8. John Barrett mayhave been born in New England, but being older than Thomas Jr., who married 1655, his own birth could hardly be later than 1631 or 1632, and was probably in England.

Judge Joseph H. Barrett of Loveland, Ohio, traces his linage to John, son of Thomas Sr., and has facts which will probably explain his death and the question of second marriage. Judge B. says John was called Lieut. John and lived near the Concord line.

Thomas Barrett Jr.
Second Son of Thomas Barrett Sr.

1. Thomas Barrett Jr. was the second son of Thomas and Margaret Barrett of Braintree and Chelmsford.

2. The place and time of the birth of Thomas Barrett Jr. and of his wife are not on record.

3. Thomas Barrett Jr. was married to Frances Woolderson in Braintree, Mass., Sept. 15, 1655, born, say, 1630.

4. A daughter Martha was born to Thomas and Frances in Braintree Sept. 17, 1656, also Mary, Apr. 17, 1658. In Chelmsford, Margaret, born Mar. 31, 1660, Moses, born Mar. or Feb. 25, 1662, Mehitabel, Apr. 12, 1665, and Anna, born Dec. 76, 1668.

The umble petition of Thomas Barrett of Chelmsford, in New England, in behalf of his daughter, Martha Sparkes, wife of Henry Sparkes, who is now a soldier in their Majesties’ Service at the Eastern Parks, and so hath been for a considerable time, humbly showeth: That your petitioner’s daughter hath lain in prison in Boston for the space of twelve months and five days, being committed by Thomas Danforth, Esq., the late deputy governor, upon suspicion of witchcraft; since which no evidence hath appeared against her in any such matter, neither hath any give bond to prosecute her, nor doth anyone at this day accuse her of any such thing as your petitioner knows of. That your petitioner hath ever since kept two of her children, the one of five years, the other of two years old, which hath been a considerable trouble and charge to him in his poor and mean condition; besides, your petitioner hath a lame, ancient and sick wife, who for these five years and upwards past, hath been so afflicted as that she is altogether rendered uncapable of affording herself any help, which much augments his trouble. Your poor petitioner earnestly and humbly entreats your Excellency and Honors to take his distressed condition into your consideration; and that you will please to order the releasement of his daughter from her confinement, whereby she may return home to her poor children to look after them, having nothing to pay the charge of her confinement. “And your petitioner, as in duty bound, shall ever pray-“ Nov. 1, 1692.

5. Margaret, wife of Thomas Srl, died in Chlmsford, May 27, 1694.

6. Thomas Barrett, Jr., was married in Milton by Rev. Thomas Thacher to Mary Dike, 1695.

7. Thomas Barrett Jr. died Dec. 8, 1702.

8. Judge Barrett says that Thomas Barrett Sr., and his son Thomas bought land to a considerable extent in Chelmsford.

Joseph Barrett
Youngest Son of Thomas Barrett Sr.

1. Joseph Barrett was the youngest son of Thomas and Margaret Barrett of Braintree and Chelmsford, Mass.

2. The place and time of the birth of Joseph Barrett and of his wife, Martha Goole or Gould [handwritten insert -- Braintree 10/15/1654] also the parentage of his wife, are not known.

3. Joseph and Martha Barrett are recorded in Chelmsford as parents of Rebekah, born July 4, 1673, Margaret, born Apr. 28, 1683, and Marion, born Apr. 29, 1686, Josiah, Apr. 2, 1688, Sarah, M. Gleason; Martha, D. Jan 2, 1678; Hanna, M. Bennett; Joseph D. 1689 or 90.

4. Joseph and Abigail are recorded as parents of Abigail born Oct. 11, 1697. This Joseph is easily presumed to be a son of Joseph and Martha, although he may not have been born in Chelmsford or the record of his birth may have been omitted. Esther, D. Apr. 17, 1699; Dorcas, D. Feb 4, 1712; Eveneser, D. July 28, 1705, and Eliezer, D. Aug. 4, 1708, are also children of Joseph and Abigail.

5. Joseph Barrett is “awinereave” with Moses May 31, 1688.

6. Joseph Barrett has the homestead on the death of his mother July 8, 1681 (Judge J.A.B.) died Dec.11, 1711, in Chelmsford.

7. Joseph Barrett’s descendants have not been traced.

Moses Barrett

1. Moses Barrett, son of Thomas Jr. and Frances Barrett, was an only son, and born in Chelmsford, March 25, 1662. In the record the month is wanting, but records of Feb. precede and March follow. Judge Barrett makes the year 1661, which must be an error.

2. Moses Barrett married Anna or Hannah, daughter of John Smith, of Dorchester, Sept. 10, 1684.

3. Moses and Hannah are recorded as parents of Moses Jr., born Oct. 27, 1685. No other children are recorded. Judge B. says that he had a brother Thomas who married and remained on the homestead when Moses emigrated in 1718. Thomas and Rathel are recorded as parents of James, born Sept. 4, 1716, Moses, born Feb. 1, 1718, Jonas, Jan 24, 1721, Rathel, born Feb. 17, 1723, Zacheus, born March 13, 1728, Amos, born Mar. 25, 1725 and Hannah, born Apr. 10, 1730. Thomas also had grant of 1 ½ acres on Robbins Hill, 1717.

4. Moses Barrett is hogreeve May 3, 1688.

5. Moses Barrett Sr., is granted 2 ½ acres of W. end of Robbins Hill, Feb. 7, 1711. Judge B. says: Moses Barrett Sr., left a homestead which his son Thomas occupied and transmitted and which (in 1885) was lately in possession of a descendant in the female line, Joel Barrett Wright.

Moses Barrett Jr.

1. Moses Barrett Jr., the head of the Woodstock family, was the oldest son of Moses Sr. and Anna Smith Barrett, and was born in Chelmsford, Mass., Oct. 27, 1685.

2. Moses Barrett married a wife whose parentage is unknown. The records give her name as Sarah and a doubtful clue bears toward Woburn as her home. The marriage was without much question early in 1707.

3. Moses and Sarah Barrett record the birth of children in Chelmsford, David, born Feb. 18, 1709, Hannah, Dec 2, 1712, Oliver, Nov. 2, 1713, Smith, Jan 2, 1716. Simon Barrett’s record adds Moses and Benjamin, Benoni, born (in Woodstock?) Aug 17, 1719, and dates David’s birth 1710, with agrees best with following dates.

4. Moses Barrett’s death, is not on any record, which we have. Neither is that of his wife. They may be on the Woodstock town records or the probate records of Woodstock County, to which Woodstock originally belonged. His death was probably after 1750, and perhaps after Mar. 1756. Oct. 6, 1899, Bert finds in Worcester, 1898, that Moses B. and Ben. Bugbee signed the formation of 1^st Church of Woodstock, Mar. 1, 1750.

5. A tradition given during a hayfield lunch in Woodstock, 1826, by Uncle Inman Barrett to “us boys” but of which I have never heard repetition or confirmation, says that Moses Barrett at the age of 19 (July, 1705) while loading grain with one Butterfield, was captured by Indians. Moses was taken through the wilderness to Montreal and given over to the French governor. On the route he was fastened down by poles or young trees bent across him and one night, lying in a hollow, was flooded and nearly drowned by a rain. When his captors delivered him over to the French he “ran the gauntlet” down a file of Indians. A straggler, coming up at the end of the fun, threw a bat and hit again his broken nose. The enraged Moses seized his assailant and to the great diversion of the Indians gave him a furious drubbing. It may be part of the story that at his capture he slew one of the attacking party. I am not certain now. While at Montreal the French commandant made a waiter of the youth. One day he brought for the Frenchman’s dinner a huge fish, and then or ordinarily he applied to Moses the epithet “de pauvore Mois”. (My uncle pronounced it “Le povery mawia.”) Moses was ere long redeemed,and before war closed (it seems Queen Anne’s War was fought from 1702-1712.) The Indians were in league with the French and harassed the New England border and were troublesome in Chelmsford. Moses’ home was in Chelmsford. There were Butterfields there. The captain agrees with the history of the times, and the other events of Moses’ life. The name of Butterfield and the “Le Pauvore Mois” could hardly be counterfeited and make the tradition quite certain, and yet there is no historic scrap to make it unquestionable. The History of Chelmsford, by Rev. Wilkes Allen, should notice it but it is a very meager history and says of the Indians only that they were sometimes troublesome. Oct. 6, 1899, see Niles Indian Wars in Mass. Hist.

In 1718 Moses Barrett, with wife and children, emigrated to Woodstock, which then belonged to Massachusetts, and in 1685 had been settled by a Roxbury Colony of 34 or 35 families. He sold all his lands in Chelmsford to “R. Cockin, son of the famous Major Cockin” and left his brother Thomas on the homestead.

Moses Barrett selected for his land the choice meadows and intervals surrounding the “Little Pond” on the Myannekisset (?) River or Mill Brook in the southeast corner of the town. It was “laid out” to him in “four” parcels bounded by town lines east and south, and two roads on the north and west, vis., the read east and west crossing the stream between the Great and Little Ponds, and north and south skirting Little Pond. This land has been enlarged and subdivided, but a part of it in the corner of the town still belongs, 1885, to Otis Barrett. Its quality has been spoiled by the mill dam below, the meadow having at first been its most valuable feature.

Moses Barrett took a “Home Lot 4” directly west of the farm, which fronted on the Putnam road where it forks from the Old Pomfret road 80 rods south of the Preston Brook or Tuapett Brook Bridge. The cellar of his house is still discernible by the road. It had Sanger lots north and Child lots south of it, but that homestead did not continue in the family after his death.

Moses Barrett’s wife was named Sarah, but her parentage is unknown. She may have been born in Woburn, Mass., for it is a tradition, my mother says, that Moses B. used to ride his great black horse from Wookstock to Woburn with his wife behind him, of which the best reason is that it was his wife’s home. In person, Moses B. was broad, not tall, and black-eyed.

Thomas Barrett
Younger son of Moses Barrett Sr.

1. Was born in Chelmsford, perhaps, 1688.

2. Thomas Barret was married to Rachel, whose parentage is unknown, in 1714.

3. Thomas and Rachel Barrett are on record in Chelmsford as parents of children James, born Sept. 4, 1715, Moses, born Feb. 1, 1718, Jonas, born Jan. 24, 1721, Rachel, born Feb. 17, 1725, Amos, born Mar. 25, 1725, Zacheus, born Mar. 13, 1728, Hannah, born Apr. 10, 1730. Judge Barrett says, Thomas was brother of Moses and married in 1714, and had six sons and three daughters, whose births are recorded in Chelmsford.

4. Thomas Barrett, according to Judge J. H. B., remained on the homestead on the removal of Moses to Woodstock.

5. Thomas Barrett, in 1717, is recorded as having a grant of one and a half acres of land in Robbins Hill.

6. Thomas Barrett’s property is said by Judge B. to have lately, 1885, been in possession of a descendant in a female line, viz. Joel Barrett Wright.

David Barrett
Oldest son of Moses Barrett Jr.

1. David Barrett was born in Chelmsford, Feb. 18, 1709-10.

2. David Barrett’s marriage is not found in Woodstock records. [handwritten insert—Abigail Spalding daughter of Samuel Spalding (Harold L. Barrett)]

3. David Barrett, according to the late Samuel Barret, of Chicago, (1864) was married and had a son Moses, who was born in Thompson Ct., in 1755 (and probably older children.) This Moses had a son Darius, born (probably in Thompson) in 1780. Darius removed to Carenovia, N.Y. (settled 1793) where he had a son, Samuel L. Barrett, born about 1810. Samuel L. removed to Chicago. In 1864 he was a wholesale liquor dealer in Chicago, afterward an alderman. Died about 1870. He left a dqughter wo was the wife of Co. Eastman, postmaster of the city 1872-1876. (He gave these facts 1864.)

4. David Barrett owned and lived on the Wheaton property (so known in 1800) in southwest Thompson. Perhaps Moses bought and gave this farm to David and also their several farms to each son.

Oliver Barrett
Second Son of Moses Barrett Jr.

1. Oliver Barrett was born in Chelmsford Nov. 2, 1712.

2. Oliver Barrett removed with his father, Moses, to Woodstock in 1718.

3. Oliver Barrett’s marriage has not been found. [handwritten note Sept. 26]

4. Oliver Barrett had a son, John, who in 1818 was living on the land between Little Pond and the highway parallel to it. He had married Anna Miller, who survived John. Both died old. John and Aunt Anna were childless, but had Sylvester Chaney with them. Oliver Barrett had also a daughter, wife of Elisha Fuller, who lived on land south of Smith Barrett, and Elisha and John Fuller, who married Assenath Hibbard. They had Schuyler, Joel, John, Asenath and Chloe, 1810-40, and lived 40 rods south of Otis. No other children of Oliver are known.

5. Oliver Barrett had the lands probably which his children lived on in 1820, as his inheritance from Moses, which lands were west and south of Smith.

Hannah Barrett
Second Child and Only Daughter of Moses Barrett Jr.

1. Hannah Barrett was born in Chelmsford, Dec 2, 1712, has left no record.

Smith Barret
Third Son of Moses Barrett Jr.

1. Smith Barrett was born in Chelmsford Jan. 2, 1716-17.

2. Smith Barrett removed with his parents to Woodstock.

3. Smith Barrett married Mary, daughter of Samuel Spalding, born Sept 15, 1717. The marriage must have been 1738, and perhaps was one of those which Judge B. calls frequent inter-marriages between those families of Moses Barrett Sr., and Edward Spalding, 1644.

4. Smith and Mary Barrett had children in Woodstock, viz., Samuel, born Mar. 26, 1739, Hannah, born Sept. 4, 1740, Daniel, born Mar. 15, 1742, Priscilla, born Nov. 1743, Thomas, born Nov.15, 1745, Ephraim, born May 24, 1747, Martha, born May 24, 1749, Priscilla, born Feb. 18, 1752, Thomas, born Mar. 29, 1754, Ephraim, born Feb. 10, 1756, Mary, born Oct. 16,1759.

5. Smith Barrett had the lands east of the Little Pond and river, and built first in the same yard with the present house, but a little north of it on the west of the present Putnam road, which was not made until 1825.

6. Smith Barrett died June 11, 1786, “aged 69 years, 5 months.” Mary Spalding Barrett died Nov. 13, 1800, in her 84^th year. They were buried, doubtless, in S. Woodstock burying ground. No monument.]

Smith Barrett was a school teacher of note and Mrs. Bathsheba Holmes Bugbee, wife of Capt. Hezekiah Bugbee, remembered him as a very severe master, 1830. Mrs. Bugbee’s home and school district were in the district of Smith Barrett, so that he taught in his own district. In 1825, in the garrett of the old house which was rebuilt inside, at that date, was a manuscript spelling book of beautiful script, which might have been written out for publication, but probably had been copied for personal use by the master, or possibly by another, hand-printed books being scarce.

Smith Barrett was said by his daughter Hannah to have been not a member but an adherent of the church, and at his death to have left pious counsel and a Bible to each of his children. His relation to the church was probably that of the half way Convenant.

Moses Jr. and Benoni Barrett
Fourth and Fifth Sons of Moses Barrett

1. Moses and Benoni Barrett were twin brothers, sons of Moses and Sarah Barrett, and born in Woodstock, Aug. 17, 1719.

2. Moses and Benoni Barrett married and left children, but the record of their marriage and of their children is not at hand. Moses had a son in the north part of Brooklyn in 1830, William Barrett, at that date near 90 years old (reading his Bible without glasses) and a deacon in the church.

3. Benoni is on record in Woodstock, Jan.9, 1752, as deeding to Moses 30 acres for £800, which was his father’s homestead, and suggests that he inherited this as his portion and sold it, or perhaps released his inheritance for that sum.

4. Benoni settled on a place in Pomfret, where Ithamar May died in 1865, nearly south from the old homestead of Moses Sr. and a mile or more south of Woodstock line. A grandson of Benoni, Nathan Barrett, lived near there in 1830.

5. Nathan Barrett married for a second wife Mary, a sister of S., his distant cousin, about 1805. Her children will be named later. Nathan by his first wife had Susan, who married Dr. Kinney of Union, Ct. and 1876 was a widow in Putnam, also Ebenezer, who also married and had a family on the Pomfret line, Harvey Hosmer place, and also a daughter, Lucretia.

6. Moses Barrett’s son William, before mentioned, who lived in Brooklyn, had two sons, Phelps and Ebenezer, and two daughters, unmarried in 1830. A son of Phelps Barrrett was in 1876 Judge Phelps (?) Barrett in Brooklyn (?) Ct.

7. William Barrett believed our race was Irish, because a vagrant Irishman once told him he had known three stalwart brothers Barrett in Ireland. The Irish Barretts were probably from England, 1170 and 1650.

Smith Barrett’s Children

Samuel, born March 2, 1739. He left no record of marriage, probably never married. He was a soldier in the Revolutionary War. The record of his services in particular is not preserved, unless it be in the U.S. Pension Office. In later years he was very lame, probably from a soldier’s wound, and lived in Vermont, whether on land of his own or with relatives or for what reason is not known. He visited his sister Hannah at the old place some time before her death (two or three years, perhaps.) The date and place of his death are not known. His last visit to Woodstock is remembered by this writer. [Handwritten note – after 1812]

Hannah, born Sept. 4, 1740. She was never married and lived and died on the old homestead in Woodstock, according to the custom of the day, and probably her father’s will. She was an heirloom of the place when her brother's son, Simon, returned

to it in 1815. She died a decided Christian death and was buried with her

family in S. Woodstock, Conn. Churchyard.

Daniel. His record follows that of the other children – lost.

The fourth, fifth and sixth children of Smith Barrett, viz., Priscilla, born Nov. 17, 1743, Thomas, born Nov. 15, 1745, and Ephraim, born Mary 24, 1747, died respectively, (evidently of some epidemic) Dec. 16, 22 and 12, 1749.

Martha, born May 24, 1749, died Apr. 1788, unmarried (?)

Priscilla, born Feb. 18, 1752 O.S. She married Mr. Howlit, who owned, it is believed, the Culler Place, west of the Wheaton place, or the old David Barrett place, in S. W. Thompson. She had a son, Luther, born about 1785, who settled in Washingtonville, 1825, had children there, and probably was buried there. Mrs. Howlet’s other children are unknown. She lived to an old age, date not preserved.

Thomas, born Mar. 29, 1754, married and left a daughter, a Mrs. Amidon, who about 1820, visited the old place, but the marriage and residence of Thomas are not on our record. He died Dec. 30, 1791.

Ephraim, born Feb. 5, 1756, is said to have married and settled on the Cyril Child place, just east and south of the bridge above Little Pond, and to have died by a fall from a tree. His death is recorded dated Sept., 23, 1796.

Mary, born Oct 16, 1759, leaves no other record.

Daniel Barrett
and his children

He was a second son and third child of Smith and Mary Barrett, and born Mar. 15, 1742, on the Woodstock homestead (“short, broad, black-eyed”) Daniel, perhaps the eldest, married son, had the homestead, with its encumbrances, the support of parents and helpless sisters. His parents lived to 1786 and 1800, and his sister Hannah survived him to 1819. He seems to have been kept from the army.

Daniel married four times, and each wife left one or more children. First Daniel married Huldah, daughter of Henry Elithorpe, Mar. 14, 1765, and who died June 8, 1771. Second, Daniel married Mary, daughter of John Manly, 1776 (?) who died Mar.14, 1777. Third, Daniel married Mary, widow of Noah Dodge, and daughter of John Wiley, who died May 2, 1780. Fourth, Daniel married Jemima, widow of Joseph Benson and daughter of Edward Inman, Dec. 14, 1784. She died Feb. 7, 1827. Daniel Barrett’s children, by these several marriages were:

1. Smith, born July 2, 1766. Smith Barrett settled in the south part of Belchertown, Mass., and had a son Thomas, who was a Baptist minister, and who had married and had children in 1828. he took his own life by hanging about that date, leaving a good character for peity and usefulness. His wife and child lived in Webster, Mass., in 1835-40. Smith Barrett had also a son Leonard, who became a Baptist minister, and has lived in Ware, Mass., 1835. He also had one or two unmarried daughters at that date, was then a widower and lived to Apr. 10, 1837.

2. Anna, a daughter of Daniel and Huldah, was born Feb. 20, 1768. She married Daniel Town, a farmer in the west part of Thompson, and had six children, Joseph, Josiah, Daniel, Sherman and Maria.

3. Milliscent, a daughter of Daniel and Huldah, was born Feb. 2, 1770 and died Mar. 14, 1777.

4. Daniel, son of Daniel and Huldah, was born Apr. 7, 1772. He married and settled on new land in Douglas, Mass., and had several children. (Wheeler and Daniel lived some years, and died in Tolland Co.) He removed to Tolland, Conn., where he died May, 1858.

5. Thomas Manly, son of Daniel and Mary Dodge Barrett, was born Mar. 20, 1776, removed early to Western New York, about 1850 was living in or near Elmira, N.Y. and had two daughters. He visited Woodstock about that date, as delegate to a Universalist Convention; in 1892 had son David in Colden, Erie Co. N.Y.

6. Aldrich Wiley, son of Daniel and Mary Wiley Barrett, was born Apr. 4, 1779. Married a daughter of DeTres, a French refugee, known in Woodstock. Left her and finally settled near his brother Thomas, Wyoming Co., N.Y., 1879.

7. Edward Inman, son of Daniel and Jemima Benson Barrett, was born Sept. 10, 1781. He married Nancy Smith born Dec. 3, 1786, marriage Nov. 27, 1803. He lived at first in Thompson Township, his wife belonging in that town. On his father’s death in 1807 he came to the homestead, living there till 1814 or 1815, and supporting his mother. He removed to the Howlit place ? on the Thompson road, half a mile due North of the old place, where he lived till 1819, still supporting his mother every other year. He then divided with Simon the lands of the old estate, took for his portion the south half, more or less, and built upon it the house in which he died, and which his son Otis has owned since then to this date (1885). He was thus near to Simon and their families were closely intimate from 1815 to 1835.

Edward I. Barrett was a farmer, cobbled sometimes, and was an expert at building stone wall. One summer, 1815 or 1816, wrought on the Susquehanna Bridge in Pennsylvania. He was in person spare and nervous, very taciturn, but fond of wit. He became alienated from the “standing order”, allowed his last barrel of cider to be sold for church tax, and though seldom if ever attending church himself, identified himself with the Taupet Baptist Church. He became religious before his death. Edward Inman Barrett died Sept. 18, 1841. Nancy B. died Dec. 6, 1878 ? Their children were:

a. Esther, born Dec. 9, 1804. She married Soloman Griggs May 3, 1831, had daughter 1. Mary A., born Aug. 29, 1833, and died June 14, 1853, and son 2, Benjamin G., born Aug. 14, 1835, Esther Briggs died in Tuapet district, Woodstock.

b. Abial, born Dec. 3, 1806. He married Esther Lyon Dec. 24, 1828, and died July 3, 1865-1852, ? – dissipated. Buried Woodstock. He was by trade a mason. He left 6 children,

1. Edward I., born Nov 10, 1829, who married Sarah E. Emberfield, and lived at New Haven, a mechanic, in 1876. 2. Nancy, daughter of Abial, born June 5, 1831, died July 27, 1851. 3. Patience C., daughter of Abial, born Oct. 1833, died Nov., 1857, had married Chas. Chase. 4. Stephen Lyon, born Oct., 1838, married Harriet Andrews, Mar. 18, 1863, and died Feb. 1, 1867. 5. Jane, daughter of Abial, born June, 1843 ? married S. Chase, died Sept.1, 1863. 6. Smith, son of Abial, born July, 1849, died 1852, leaving living 1876 only Edward I.

c. Anson, born Nov. 14, 1809. He married Emily Prince May 3, 1836, is a carpenter by trade, lives at Village Corners in Woodstock, has long been a member of the Congl. Church and represented his town in the Legislature 1875. He has four children:

1. Emily, born Apr. 9, 1838, married Augustus Johnson of Putnam, 1875, and had one child, 1876. 2. Smith, born Oct. 30, 1840, married Miss Hill, lived at Willimantie 1876, carriage trimmer, had 2 children 3. Mary Marsh, born Mar. 14, 1846, died Dec. 23, 1847, and 4. William, born Sept. 16, 1848, unmarried.

5. Mary, born Oct. 26, 1851,

d. Nancy, born Feb. 1, 1813, 4^th child of Edward Inman and Nancy, married Geo. Kimball, Nov. 16, 1831, died Jan. 7, 1832, no children.

e. Smith, 5^th child of Edward Inman, born Feb. 8, 1815, died Nov. 25, 1840.

f. Samuel, 6^th child of Edward Inman, born Aug. 29, 1820, married Sophronia Fiake Oct. 4, 1842. Is a carpenter and lives at Village corners, not a church member. His children are:

1. Emily A., born Aug. 2, 1843 and married Chauncy Vinton May, 1865, and has two daughters.

2. Albee Fiske, born June 23, 1846, died Oct 25, 1866.

3. Henry, born Sept. 9, 1849, died Oct. 11, 1866.

4. Frank, born Mar. 4, 1854, died Oct 3, 1854

5. Frank E., born Sept. 8, 1855

6. Owen, born Oct. 20, 1857

7. Lewis A., born Aug. 21, 1859

8. Carrie E., born July 26, 1866

g. Edward, 7^th child of Edward Iman, born Feb. 12, 1824, died Sept 7, 1863, unmarried, clerked in bookstores in Providence and at the South.

h. Marvin, 8^th child of Edward Iman, born May 18, 1826, married Susan D. Wheeler, Oct. 29, 1861, who died Feb. 23, 1864. Married again Lois L. Palmer May 4, 1868. No children. Lived in Worcester as a machinist, returned to Hampton – Woodstock which he represented in the Legislature in 1875. Lives in Putnam ( in1885).

i. Otis, 9^th child of Edward Iman, born Aug. 16, 1828, married Emily Kinney Mar. 29, 1853, who died 1875. Otis lives on the old estate. His children:

1. Orrin J., born Dec 13, 1853

2. Harriette, born June 26, 1855

3. Nancy J., born Nov. 13, 1856

4. Susan K., born Aug. 29, 1858,

5. Emogene, born Aug. 5, 1860

6. Edward O., born June 19, 1863, died March 27, 1684

7. Charles C., born Apr. 25, 1865,

8. Eugene, born Aug. 16, 1867

8. Mary, daughter of Daniel and Jemima Benson Barrett, was born Sept. 25, 1782. married about 1805, Nathan Barrett, grandson of Benoni, second cousin, as his second wife. Died Feb., 1816. Nathan Barrett’s home was on the south line of Woodstock on the road from the Hosmar Hill, S.W. toward Pomfret, a few acres, possibly on land bequeathed (with the Harvey Hosmar place and with the place farther south built on land by Nathan) by Benoni Barrett. Thus Nathan’s family and Simon’s and Inman’s were neighbors. Mary Barrett’s children were:

a. Hannah, born about 1807, married Mr. Randal, a cotton worker of W. Thompson, and who later bought the James Arnold works in S. Woodstock, where Hannah died 1778 ? She was childless.

b. Joseph, born about 1809. He became a machinist and lived and died in Worcester.

c. Mary, born about 1811. After her mother's death, 1816, Mary was adopted by Simon, her uncle, and lived with him till her marriage. About 1830 she married George Phillips of Putnam, and had one son whith whom she lived after her husband's death, at Attleborough, Mass.

d. Jane, born 1812, who married Geo. Kimball, widowed husband of Janey. Had several children.

e. Betsey, born 1814, married Daniel Hibbard of Woodstock, died of Cancer, 1875 ? Left two children, a son and a daughter. The son married 1870?

f. Emma, born 1816, adopted by Mrs. Town, died at 14.

9. Simon, see next page
10. Andrew, born Oct 5, 1785. Andrew Barrett married and had several children. Both parents and children were of low standing among relatives. One son, a machinist in the U.S. Armory at Springfield, Mass., was said to have been a convict in the Mass. Penitentiary. Andrew Barrett himself died in the Woodstock Poor House 1870?

Daniel Barrett died on his homestead July 11, 1807. He was buried in the parish cemetery on the east side of the old ground, where a low blue sandstone marked his grave in 1868.

Jemima Benson Barrett died in the old house Feb. 7, 1827. Grandmother Barrett by her first husband had Jeanna, born March 17, 1768, who married and settled in N.W. Pennsylvania, Issac, born Feb. 18, 1775, died Jan 3, 1791. Fell through the ice on the Great Pond. Joseph, born July 12, 1776, died Nov. 18, 1795.

Simon Barrett
and his children

Simon Barrett, eighth child of Daniel, and third child of Daniel and Jamima Barrett, was born on the old place of Smith Barrett in Woodstock Feb. 21, 1784, at the close of the Revolutionary War. He was baptized by Rev. E. Lyman in the old steepleless church on Plane Hill. At 12 years old, 1795, he was "bound out" to Daniel Parrin, with whom he lived until 1805. Daniel Perrin was a farmer and shoemaker, who lived half a mile west and s. west of the Little Pond., and at the same time had a niece of his wife, Lydia Mascraft, living with him as an adopted daughter. The home of these children was a one-stored frame unpainted house, its long side facing to the south on a lonely byroad, surrounded by level fields and orchards, and in the distance, here and there, a similar house. Within it had the one large living room, uncarpeted, with its wide fireplace and furniture of clock, rude table and chairs and settle. Its ceilings were of boards. Its parlor was the loom and bench room. Lydia was chore girl inside. Simon was chore boy at woodpile and barn and worked a few acres of land with an ox team, two wheeled cart and wooden plough, before machinery had found the farm or factory. The grist and fulling mill and smith and furniture shops filled the places where are now the myriad manufactures of Connecticut. Morning and night "Uncle Perrin", who felt himself unworthy of the Lord's table, read his Bible and prayed with his family, and at each meal invoked a blessing, standing behind his chair, over the pork and vegetables and corn and rye bread and milk and fruit which Simon's family supplied. All were homespun and homemade -- the tailor and shoemaker going from house to house plying their trades. All went to church on horseback or on foot, 2 ½ miles. There, under the puplit, were old Deacon Morse and Skinner -- in it, Rev. Eliphalet Lynn, expounding the old school Gospel and keeping at bay the Revivalism of Whitfield, which was awaking Hartford and Western Connecticut already. Daniel Barrett and others invited New Sight ministers to Mr. Lyman's church but were kept out of it by law and disciplined for their nonconformity. In the dark, dirty galleries, Saml. Terrey led his choir and the tithing man regulated the rude boys. In the square unpainted pews were Lyons and Foxes, Masons, Chandlers, Bowens, Bugbees, Perrys, Peakes and Holmens and McClellans. No prayer meetings, and until 1818, no Sabbath School, invaded the old church. Young Jedadiah Morse and Abial Holmes in their visits to their homes at a little later date gave a new voice, if not a new dogma, to the church and pulpit of their boyhood. Edwards and Tennants were gone. Bellamy, Strong, Dwight and Griffin were coming.

The state had already a school system, and Simon and Lydia studied where the tyrannical Smith Barrett had been master once in the district school, the three R’s and also recited there, weekly, the Shorter Catechism, with the boys and girls of the Payme and Holmes and McClellan and lesser families. There were no Lyceums and in fact no village gathering nor even villages then. So in the monotonous evenings Simon perforce read the Hartford Courant or other newspaper of the day, and began to be the newspaper reader that he continued to be to his death. It was the age of George III. And the French Revolution and of Constitutional Conventions of Congress at New York and Philadelphia, of Washington and Adams and Trumball and Sherman and Ellsworth and Jefferson and Hamilton, the Louisiana Purchase and a new Western fever, and a new religious life as well, stirring the dry bones of a century’s sleep.

Simon became of age Feb., 1805, and with his $100 and new suit, which every apprentice received by right at his majority, started out.

An academy had lately arisen on Woodstock Common. A library followed. His first step was to take two terms at least at the New Academy, under usher (possibly assistant usher) Burleigh, later of Plainfield Academy and father of William Burleigh, Poet. He taught the school in his own district through the next winter. The schoolhouse was in the fork of the Pomfret and Putnam roads as at present, 80 rods south of Preston Brook. Lydia was his pupil. He boarded at his father’s, had his home there, and nearly drowned crossing the ice to his school from him home one winter morning. The fair-haired stripling of siz feet height was a success as a teacher. In after years, if ever, none of his fellows of the Academy surpassed him. Indeed, no one of them is remembered as a schoolmaster.

In July, 1807 Daniel Barrett died. Inman had married, also Mary, and had left home. Whether Simon stayed till his father’s death is uncertain. Before 1809 he had taught one season at Bowman’s Creek, south of Canajeharie in N. York, and one at Richland, in Oswago Co. It is probable that he left home before his father’s death, and before 1809 had taught a third winter near his new purchase in the N.E. part of Richland, afterwards Washingtonville, a mile N.E. of the latter. In 1809, Oct. 12, he had returned and on that date married Lydia Mascraft. They immediately set out for the new home which he had made, and took with them Amasa Carpenter and wife, who married at the same time, and were their neighbors, and afterwards their successors on their purchase in Richland.

Here, for 5 years he cleared and worked his land, taught school, was Justice of the Peace, made a Fourth of July oration, had born his two oldest sons, buried the first, but was well begun with the new county. In 1813 that coast became the scene of war. Simon was exempt from military service. Grandmother was a widow, lame, deaf, blind, on the homestead, and needed him. In February, 1814, he sent his wife and surviving son back to Woodstock, finished his school, disposed of his place to Amasa Carpenter, and himself returned in the fall. The aged aunts Priscilla Howlitt and Hannah Barrett held rights in the old place. Simon and Inman redeemed the estate and divided between them the estate and care of their mother. Simon took the homestead and Inman the south half of the farm, on which in 1819 he built his house, now – 1885 – owned by his youngest son, Otis Barrett.

The dividing line of the two farms divided two school districts. Simon taught in one or the other every winter the ten or twelve years. In 1819 the spirit of the Nettleton Revivals reach Woodstock and Simon and his wife, with many others, became converts. Mr. Lyman was still pastor and Mr. Nettleton never held meetings in his parish, but Methodism on its confines annoyed the aged minister. At this time the old church was superseded by the present house. During the change, through one if not two winters, the congregation met in the Academy, and in that place Simon and his wife “joined the church” and their children were baptized, including Cousin Mary with them.

Simon had always had family worship. This he never afterward intermitted.

With the old church passed away the old minister and his deacons and his conservative methods. It flourished in the new house. Prayer meetings were adopted. Simon became superintendent of the school and in 1825 ? succeeded Deacon Kimbal in his office. In 1827 Grandmother died and he removed to Pomfret Factory, now Putnam, where he was teaching, and continued to teach – an evening school following the day school.

In July, 1827 William was drowned. School was exhausting, and in the winter of 1829-9 a paralytic attack prostrated the master though not completely. He returned to his Woodstock home, April, 1829, and taught no more ? He may have taught the Putnam school til 1834-5.

During 1829-30 the old house was built over, within and without, the frame only being retained. In the spring of 1835 Simon sold the old place and went West. He had not been a public leader in Woodstock, but had served his town as well as church in its offices of Selectman, School Commissioner, Deacon, etc. etc. – always with fidelity and acceptability. In politics he was at first a Federalist, while his brother was a Republican, and in the change of parties became a Whig. These were the days of the rise of Antimasonry and Jacksonian Democracy, Protracted Meetings, Temperance Societies and Garrisonian (abolitionists) and the Northwestern emigration.

The emigrant had intended to settle in Portage Co., Ohio, and reaching Cleveland via the water route from Norwich, Ct., he took his family 20 miles south between Hudson and Stow, where he quartered them 6 months, but, finding land there too high in price for his means he proceeded to the territory of Michigan, located 160 acres in Springport, Jackson County, in which he found a few families in advance of him, and in September brought his wife and children, except Newton, to the new home, a cabin 14 feet by 24. Here his health waned continually till Sept. 20, 1838, when he died and was buried on his own premises. His body was removed in 1850 ? to the cemetery adjoining the Presbyterian Church of Springport. No monument marks his grave. He aided the infant church there by serving it as deacon. The family returned to Hudson, Ohio, the fall of 1839.

Mascraft

Lydia Mascraft, the wife of Simon Barrett, can be traced in descent at present no further than to Samuel Mascraft, who first appears to us on the records of Woodstock Jan., 1705, as a freeholder, as the husband of Mehitabel Mascraft and the father of Samuel Jr.

The family homestead was S.W. of the junction of the three parishes of the town, with Moses (touching the junction) and Masons on the east, Lyons and Mareys on the north, and Skinners on the west. It remained in the family until 1830 or later.

Mascraft is not among the names of the original immigrants from Roxbury, but is among those who followed from the same vicinity within the next 20 years. There is in this case the common tradition that at first “three brothers” came together from England, etc. The point of departure in England from which the first Mascraft came, and his Christian name, are yet to be identified. He came with the Puritans, and from the Puritan districts, therefore. The name is a nut for the philologists, whether Saxon, Dutch or Huguenot. Town Clerk Chandler in 1747 writes it Marscraft and a New York policeman in 1876 spells it Marscroft. But while craft and croft are Saxon words of simple signification, what particular craft or croft either Mas or Mars could mean must be left to further inquiry. My mother used to say that tradition said there was royal blood in Austin veins.

The location was at the head of Preston Brook and had a small mill privilege on it sufficient for small woolen works but no mill there to my knowledge. The men of the family took to trades and their ancestor might have been a mill man or mechanic.

Samuel and Mehitable Mascraft record the births of children (town record) 1705, Jan. 16, Samuel – 1708, Sept. 6, Mehitabel – 1709, March 1, John ? – 1714, May 23, Kesiah – 1716, June 19 Mary – 1718, Jan. 13, Daniel – Samuel and Thankful record 1723, Aug. 13, Jacob – 1724, Mar. 12, Elizabeth – 1725, Feb. 24, Elizabeth ? – 1727, Aug. 27, Sarah – 1729, May 1, Abigail. Mehitabel and Thankful may not not have been successive wives of Samuel, Sr. but that seems to have been more probable than that Thankful was the wife of Samuel, Jr. Dates and names suggest such a probability.

Jacob Mascraft, son of Samuel, born Aug. 13, 1723 (on Lydia Barrett’s authority) married Miss Wilson and later Miss Holbrook and Mrs. Crosby, and their children were:

1.Mary (Aunt Perrin) born about 1750, married William Perrin;

2. Sarah, d. about 1752;

3. Jacob, d. certainly 1756;

4. John;

5. Samuel;

6. Chloe;

7. Alice

8 Betty

9. Daniel;

10. Anna.

Samuel, Daniel and Chloe were living 1825. Samuel was a carpenter on the homestead, Daniel a clothier in W. Parish. Both had families.

Jacob Mascraft, Jr., son of Jacob, Sr., was born in 1756, and in 1777 married Hannah Austin, of Taunton, a daughter of William Austin, a ship owner and master. Capt. Austin had a son William; no other children are mentioned. Tauton archives will show family facts. Father and son were lost at sea and never heard from. It was in the piratical times of the Revolution, probably in the eighties. The widow Austin married later Capt. Reed of Tauton. (Mother, with a sister, visited her grandmother about 1804.)

Jacob Mascraft may have gone to Taunton to work as a carpenter. He campaigned in New Terrey in the war, came home on a litter, never was sound afterwards, and died at the age of 45 (?) soon after Betsey’s birth, about 1793. (?) He was a singer and flute player. His widow remained on the homestead and died there is the fall of 1821, about 63.

The children of Jacob and Hannah Mascraft were:

1. Jacob, born about 1778. He became a carpenter, married Asenath Wakefield of Thompson. After 1830 bought a home in W. Woodstock, where he died at 80 years of age, his wife surviving him. Their children were: Melinda, Judson, Diantha, Addison, Mason, from 1808 to 1820. The daughters married brothers Copeland in and near New Boston. Addison and Mason also married and lived at Putnam in 1876. Jacob had no grandchildren. The children were our intimate cousins in childhood. Judson died Jan 26, 1873. Mason died June 23, 1876(?)

2. Hannah, born about 1781. About 1822 married Jesse Leonard as second wife and went with him to Otselic, Chenango Co., NY, where she died about 1840, leaving two children.

3. Mary, born about 1785, married Henry Converse, removed to Edmeston, Chenango Co., NY, had five or six children, with some of whom she removed to Wellington, Ohio, after her husband’s death, dying there after 1850.

4. Lydia, born Nov. 11, 1787. At 2 ½ years of age Lydia was adopted by her Aunt Mary Perrin. Her uncle dying before 1805, whe supported herself after the age of 18, but was married at her aunt’s Oct. 1809.

5. Lucy, born about 1790. Married Lyman Morse about 1817. Lyman Morse was son of Jonathan Morse and cousin of Prof. S.F.B. Morse. Their children were: Elmer, born 1818; Edward, Jane, Annette, Almira, John. The sons married – the daughters lived single. The entire family betook themselves to the factories and in 1868 the father and daughters, with Aunt Sally, were at Globe Factory, Southbridge, Mass. In childhood the children were also our intimate cousins.

6. Sally, born about 1792, lived single with her sister Lucy, dying after 1868.

7. Betsey, born about 1794, lived single, dying at Melinda Copeland’s 1874, Dec 27. During my college course Betsey loaned me $140, which I repaid not till 1860. The maiden sisters, 1800 to 1820, lived with and supported their mother on the homestead, and were exceptionally industrious, intelligent and cultured, but were not communicants in the church till late in life.

I have made no endeavor to collect genealogical data of our cousins.

Lydia Mascraft Barrett was a widow Sept. 20, 1838, in Springport, Michigan. The family were all disabled by malaria during these 4 years in Michigan and in the fall of 1839 were taken to Hudson, Ohio, and kept house there till the marriage of Newton. Mother continued to make her home chiefly with him. In June, 1847, she married John Wait in Arlington Heights. He was a widower with five children. Died Oct. 1849 and mother returned to us. She died in the study of the parsonage, Dunton, near Arlington Heights, July 15, 1871

The Children of Simon and Lydia Barrett

Birth Date Birth Place

Milton 1810, July 10 Washingtonville, NY (now Richland)

Newton 1812, Sept. 28 Richland, Oswego Co., NY

Milton 1815, Aug. 5 Woodstock, Windham, Ct.

Almira 1818 Jan. 23 Wookstock, Windham, Ct.

Martha Eliz. 1820, Aug. 20 Woodstock, Windham, Ct.

Simon Edward 1823, Jan. 12 Woodstock, Windham, Ct.

William Perrin 1825, May 20 Woodstock, Windham, Ct.

Sarah 1827, Nov. 25 Pomfret Factory (now Putnam) Ct.

Frances 1830, Feb. 20 Woodstock, Windham, Ct.

Milton died 1813, Mar. 20, aged 2 year 8 months, accidentally scalded.

Milton, the third son, lived at home and removed with his parents in 1825 to Stone, Ohio, and in Nov. to Sandstone, Jackson Co., Mich. Territory, where his father gave him one half of his 160 acres, intending the other 80 doubtless for Simon. In the war with Ohio, 1836, he served as a militiaman. On the removal of the family to Hudson, Ohio, after the death of his father, 1838, Milton remained on his land, but followed them in 1839, and worked by the month about Talmage Ohio. In 1841, Aug. 1, he married Sarah Plummer, daughter of Isaac Plummer of Webster, Mass. (a Putnam schoolmate) lived in Talmage till 1844, Nov., removed to Providence RI, and thence to Brooklyn NY, and was clerk for his wife’s brothers in NY and removed in 1865 to North Greenfield, near Saratoga, NY, where he is Apr. 1887.

His children were:

1. Helen Pamelia, born in Tallmadge, Nov. 20, 1842. Died March 7, 1868.

2. Estella C, born Nov. 17, 1845, died Aug. 12, 1846

3. Jerome Milton Francois, born Nov. 26, 1848.

Helen married Richard W. Butler of Brooklyn NT, Jan 10, 1865. Francois married Ellen A. Smith of N. Greenfield, NY, Nov. 24, 1876.

Almira went with her parents to Ohio and Michigan, was married on her arrival in Michigan to Albert Stow of Stow, Ohio, Nov. 22, 1835, and returned at once to Stow, where she lives with her husband, Apr, 1887.

Albert Stow was born in Stow, July 5, 1810. They had a daughter Ellen Elizabeth, born May 19, 1837, who married, Mar. 11, 1861, Rev. Frank Green (born Sept., 28, 1836.) Mr. Green has served his denomination in some superior positions and was in the Ohio Legislature 1885-7. Their children are:

1. Lurie Alice, born Dec. 26, 1862, married Edwin Wetmore July 19, 1881. Children Fred Wetmore, born Aug. 12, 1882. Living in Stow.

2. Frannie Kay, born Dec. 11, 1866 and married to William Cox. Children, son d. Apr. 26, 1887

3. Mary Teresa, born Dec. 11, 1864, died Feb. 14, 1881.

4. Frank Albert, born Dec. 7, 1868.

5. Daisy Almire, born Sept. 30, 1870.

The children of Mrs. Wetmore and Cox are the 11^th generation from Thomas in this branch.

A second daughter, Emma Almira was born to Almira Stow May3, 1840, who died in an insane asylum at Ravenna Oct 4, 1881.

Martha Elizabeth, fifth child of Simon and Lydia, also removed to Ohio and Michigan in 1825, and returned with her mother to Hudson, Ohio, in Oct., 1839. Married Jonathan Booth of Cuyahoga Falls, Nov. 19, 1847, and died Oct. 7, 1849. Twin children were buried with her. Her husband remarried twice – is dead. Jonathan Booth was born at Cuyahoga Falls, O., 1822. Married second wife. Died 1885.

Simon Edward, sixth child of Simon and Lydia, migrated to Michigan and back to Ohio – never married – was a carpenter – fought at Monterey in 1846 – went to California in 1849 – and died at Auburn, Cal. Dec. 12, 1861, with tumor on the brain, having been speechless for 2 years.

William Perrin, seventh child of Simon and Lydia, born May 20, 1825, was drowned July 21, 1827, while at play by a mill race in Putnam Co.

Sarah, eighth child of Simon and Lydia, born in Putnam Nov. 25, 1827, was married Oct. 26, 1844, to Horatio Bester of Connecticutt origin (Tollard) but born in Ohio (Mantua) 1820. They have resided in Huntington, Ohio, and later in Michigan, and are now, May 1887, at Big Rapids, Michigan. Their chidren have been:

1. Frances Josephine, born July 11, 1846, died July 26, 1852;

2. William Barrett, born Aug., 1856 died Feb 9, 186;

3. An infant, born and died March 20, 1860

Frances Elizabeth, youngest child of Simon and Lydia Barrett, and born Feb. 20, 1830 – came from Michigan with her mother in 1839 and remained with Newton till her marriage at Milan, Ohio, Dec 19, 1849 to Dr. Lucius B. Smith, of Berlin, Ohio. Dr. Smith was born in Berlin, Ohio, Apr. 27, 1824. They removed to Tayler’s Falls, Minnesota. Dr. Smith became surgeon of the 11^th Minnesota in 1863, and was killed at Tupelo, Mississippi, July 13, 1864. Mrs. Smith married Dr. E.D. Whiting, of Tayler’s Fall, Min., June, 1869, and died July 19, 1872. Dr. Whiting died at St. Paul Jan 25, 1882. The children of Dr. Smith and Frances Smith were :

1. Lucius, born 1850, died

2. Mary Frances, born July 21, 1882,

3. Charles Lucius, born Mar. 28, 1859.

Mary married John Passmore, of Taylor Falls and Stillwater, Sept. 5, 1871. John Passmore was born Aug. 31, 1845. Their children are:

1. Lucius, born Sept. 14, 1872

2. Ellis, born Jan 5, 1875

3. Frances, born

4. Joan, born June 14, 1880.

John Passmore died June 25, 1880 at Silver Cliff, Colorado. Mary Passmore married Benj. Lobdell of Paw Paw, Ill., 1886.

Newton, 2^nd son of Simon and Lydia, was born Sept. 28, 1812, on a new clearing in Richland on the north line of Oswego Co., NY, 10 mile east of Lake Ontario and 1 ½ miles N.E. from the present village of Washingtonville. It was in the time and on the line of “The War of 1812” and for that and domestic reasons his father, tarrying himself to close out school and business, sent the boy and his mother by sleigh in March 1814, back to his native Woodstock.

Woodstock, Ct. From 1814 to 1830 the boy grew up with his parents on the old homestead – was a small, healthy, thoughtful child, and was initiated into the Con. Common School and Academy, the ancient and strict church order of New England and its family and social way. His parent united with the church, of which they were always the children, in 1819, and baptized him, with a brother and sister, as he remembers. The Nettleton Revivals prevailed in Ct., then, and Methodism took root. The parish in that day passed silently from its old church building and minister and regime and life into the new social, religious and political era that then dawned.

1827-1829 When Newton was at the age of 14 Simon thook his family into a village, then Pomfret Factory, now the city of Putnam. There 3 of us wrought daily for two years in the first cotton factory in the state. I spun. Father in winter taught the great village school and in summer labored on the Company. Here I had no school but the evening school, and as Putnam was not a town center but in the corner of 5 towns, I had the benefit of its substitute for the standing order. I attended my first singing school there. My village life began there. I read little, had some religious convictions, but suppressed them – contracted no vices or badness, and was an average good boy, maybe above average, but not “pious.” In 1829, April, we returned to the farm. Father built over his house, when a garret full of relics went recklessly to the fire and dirt pile. I attended district school 1829-30, and in the spring was placed by father under Rev. Sanford Lawton of Dudley Academy, and began Latin and Greek. Mr. Lawton had filled our pulpit a while. A great revival followed. In June I passed through my first severe convictions of sin and dedication to Christ and His service, and thought of the ministry. With 40 others, including my subsequent wife, I united with the Woodstock Church in August of that year. I taught my first school on Quasset Hill the following winter, and did not fail – nor do work worthy of my father. My thinking and social life were taking their type. I was more self-reflective than scholarly --- studied fairly, but without order. In 1831 spent two or three terms at Dudley and in the winter took a school in Charlton, northeast of Dudley, which I could not hold and left unfinished.

1832. In the spring, Mr. Lawton having taken the preceptorship of Monson Academy, myself and the late Judge Fisher, of W. Woodstock, went with him and finished our preparatory courses there in a class of 10, one half of whom entered Amhurst and the other Yale, that autumn.

Yale, 1832-1836 At Yale I went through the class course without any break from health or discipline or scholarship or want of means, but hardly expected the honors of scholarship and never received them above the two regular degrees of A.B and A.M. I was a charity scholar. The charities of the College and the Education Society, with some aid from friends, met my expenses, so that I graduated with a debt of some $200 only. I earned nothing by teaching or any services, with the exception of one or two terms of room rent. I sought to be punctual to my college duties, and especially to my church, joining the church early. I filled the usual place in various societies and did Sabbath School duty in the New Free Church 2 years, receiving a Scott’s Commentary in thanks. I had adopted the ministry and missionary vocation and on graduating expected to study theology at Yale, but Providence closed my New Haven life with my graduation.

At the close of Commencement Day I looked up everything and, 1836-7, journeyed via NY and Philadelphia and Pittsburg, to my sister’s in Portage Co., Ohio. Near Kent funds failed. I bought a surveyor’s outfit at the suggestion and with the endorsement of Albert Stow, but I earned nothing with it and sought a school. In Oct. I opened a select school in Middlebury, now Akron, Ohio, with the patronage of Rev. B.C. Baldwin and W. Ostros, who were then strangers to me. I subsequently sold my Compass to a county surveyor.

1837 In April I made the visit to my parents in Michigan for which I came west and brought back with me my sister Martha to attend my school. At the same time Emily Bugbee came at my proposal to Akron and opened a school which I procured for her in that village and which she kept successfully two years, returning to Woodstock in 1839. In September, closing my school, but too poor to return east, I entered the new Theological Seminary at Hudson, under Professor Hickok and Barrows. I occupied the first room opened in the new seminary building, which the ladies of Talmadge furnished. The seminary had about 12 students.

1838 Closing my first year at Hudson, my father called me again to Michigan, and died there Sept. 20, a few weeks after I left him. The memorable 1837 had brought the college to starvation, and for means I sought a school again. Shaw Academy, in Euclid, now Coleman, near Cleveland, invited me to a vacant principalship. I served here one year, reading Stow and Flatt and John, meantime.

1839 My mother and family were in distress in Michigan, and I took them to Hudson and lived with and supported them there, while filling my second year of seminary studies, and at the same time hearing 2 or 3 classes in the Preparatory School.

1840 After Commencement I received license to preach from the Presbyter of Portage, at Cuyahagan Falls Sept. 8, and at once visited Woodstock, was married after an engagement of 7 years, and returned to Hudson. Our trip was by boat from Norwich via New Haven to NY and Albany and over the Erie Canal, which was shouting Harrison and VanBuren from end to end. Rev. E.C. Sharp, a dear classmate, had engaged to supply between us the little church of Brecksville for the winter. Mr. Sharp soon was called to Atwater and died there.

1841 I was ordained over that church April 1841 and served it till Oct. 1848 The church flourished. We were happy and have always loved each other.

The Children of Newton and Emily

Adah Maria Brecksville July 13, 1841

Edward Newton Brecksville Mar. 4, 1843

Elliot John Brecksville Dec. 19, 1845

Mary Brecksville June 25, 1847

Frank Frelinghusen Milan, Ohio Oct 20, 1850

Mary died in Milan Ohio Jan 2, 1849.

My mother and Frances and Sarah went with us. Frances and mother made their home with us till married.

1848-52 Milan, Ohio. The pastor of the large church of Milan, dying in 1848, in council with Professor Barrows, had secured a successor virtually, and I accordingly resigned the Brecksville charge in October, removed at once to Milan and was installed there in Jan., 1849. Not unnaturally, it was a misfit. The church tried to accept the young pastor in place of the old one, but in April, 1852, the relation was dissolved – though with reluctance and mortification on my part as that of Brecksville had been on the part of that church.

The Presbytery commissioned the retiring pastor to the Triennial Meeting of the General Assembly sitting at Utica in May following – Albert Barnes, Moderator. The summer of 1852 was filled by me in the place of Rev. J Tracy, agent of the Western Reserve Home Missionary Society, with headquarters at Hudson, Mr. Tracy being on vacation. The duties of the agency took me over a large part of the Reserve. The Hudson Observer was also partly in Mr. Tracy’s hands, and was left by him so far to his substitute.

Dec. 1852. The Congregational Church at Hudson invited me to succeed Rev. John Hart as its minister. I accepted the position, removed my family there the spring following, and continued in the post three years. The college church worshipped with the town church during this period. The winters of 1853-4 and the following year were marked by large ingatherings to the church. Financial reverses in 1855 crippled the church. The college revived its chapel services under the new president, Dr. Hitchcock, and the town church suspended.

At the invitation of Mr. C. Rust, who had gone from Hudson to Mendota, Ill., I visited the Congregational Church of Mendota and began service as its minister, Jan. 1854. At the end of one year the church suspended services, and the New School Presbyterian Church of Mendota was organized by the Presbytery of Ottawa, of which I took charge. The Presbytery made me its commissioner to the General Assembly at Cleveland, May, 1857. Adah went with me to Norwich and entered school there. The Mendota church built its house in 1857 and dedicated it in Dec. In 1859 and 60 Paw Paw was added to my field for a bi-weekly service, the Home Missionary Society having withdrawn its aid from the Mendota church from some opposition by the Congregationalists. In 1856 I purchased a house in Mendota, together with 10 acres of land, and also located 160 acres of land in Iowa. In 1860 the Mendota Church became unable to continue its salary and in 1861 I took a temporary agency for the Lake Forest Seminary (Theological) which then made an effort to realize itself but without success.

In Nov. 1861, I entered the service of the New School Presbyterian Church at Knoxville, Ill., removed by family there in the spring and continued the service till Apr., 1864. Edward entered Knox College in 1863. Adah had returned from Norwich – 1859, been at Rockford in 1859-60 and was married Oct., 1860.

1864 Removing my family to Galesburg, partly to aid Edward and Frank, who were in college, a vacancy at Dunton was made known to me by Rev. Mr. Kellogg, which I entered May 1, and in the autumn following brought my family to the parsonage of that church. Edward and Frank served four months in the army, returning in October. Dr. Smith was killed July 12. His wife had passed the summer with us and came with us to Dunton. The Presbytery of Chicago installed me as pastor at Dunton in January. The relation continued until the spring of 1873. An attack of sciatica in 1868 interfered somewhat with my work and during the summer the church was enlarged. In 1870 a vacation of 3 months was allowed me to recuperate which I spent in a western trip, chiefly to Missouri, taking with me the subscription list of the newly funded Interior. The church, however, did not supply its pulpit meantime. My pastorship at Dunton closed in the spring of 1873. The Presbytery made me one of its commissioners to the General Assembly at Baltimore in May. In October I undertook a monthly supply of Libertyville and in June following added Half Day to the field. This arrangement continued to June 1875. My mother had died in July, 1871, and in Feb. 1872, I had purchased and removed to Mrs. Ramey’s house.

1875 In October I began work at Paw Paw, which I continued at East and West Paw Paw – at Ross Grove and Shabbona Grove until July, 1881. In 1879 and 80 I taught also in the Institute as Assistant to Professor Beitel. In 1878 I had bought the Bradley place in Elk Grove and on closing work at Paw Paw returned to live upon it with John.

1881 May 1, my work began at Elkhorn and continued two years, during the last of which the New Church was built. John came to Elkhorn in 1882, built his house in 1882, which has been our home to the present time (1885).

Emily Bugbee, who was married to Newton Barrett Sept. 14, 1840, was the daughter of Asa Bugbee and Theodora Chrtiss, and born in Woodstock on the ancient Bugbee homestead February 17, 1811. She was the oldest child of a family whose genealogy on the Bugbee side, including the Holmes family, has been prepared for publication by Hon. Edwin Bugbee of Putnam, Ct., and a copy of which we have.

The Curtiss family lived in Sturbridge, Mass., but its history is not written. It is known that a brother of Mrs. Bugbee graduated at Yale, became a lawyer and died at the South – and that Lucy Curtiss, a cousin of Emily, was at school with us at Dudley and became as teacher in Ht. Holyoke Seminary.

Emily Bugbee lost her mother in 1825 – became a Christian and united with the Woodstock Church in 1830 – attended school in Woodstock, Dudley and Winbraham Academies and taught many terms of school, command and select, from 1830 to 1840

The Children of Newton and Emily

1. Adah Maria, born in Brecksville, July 13, 1841, educated at Milan, Hudson, Norwalk and Rockford Seminaries. Married James A. Church Oct. 23, 1860, at Mendota. [Adah Maria Barrett Church died at Chicago, Oct. 14, 1903. James A. Church died Cincinnati June 12, 1903.] Their children have been:

   1. Francis Allan, born July 22, 1861 and married to Elizabeth Tyrman of Cincinnati

   2. Joseph Henry, born in Mendota June 1, 1864. [Joseph Henry Church married Kate Mahany in Cincinnati Sept. 14, 1891. Their children are

1. Joseph Henry Church, born June 17, 1892

2. Allen Francis Church, born June 11, 1895

3. John Arthur Church, born Sept. 30, 1897

4. Charles Loyal Church, born Jan. 21, 1903 ]

1. Mary Allice, born in Mendota March 24, 1866, died July 27, 1886

2. Erick, born July 12, 1867, died Sept. 27, 1867

3. Frank, born March 11, 1872, died May 1, 1874

4. Clarence, born May 12, 1882, died March 8, 1884

1. Edward Newton, born in Brecksville, Mar. 4, 1843, graduated from Knox College 1866 and Chicago Theological College 1870, married Anna Moore at Arlington Heights Sept. 12, 1870, born July 20, 1848 and who died at Austin Jan. 22, 1878. Their children are:

   1. Albert Moore, born July 15, 1871

   2. Mary Emily, born Jan 29, 1874

   3. Grace Adah, June 28, 1876

   4. Anna Moore, born Jan. 20, 1878, died Jan. 22, 1879

Edward married Hannah Gay, July 8, 1884, died May 8, 1901

3. Elliot John, born in Brecksville, Dec. 19, 1845, married Nancy J. Crego, Nov. 20, 1876 (who was born Sept. 19, 1834) Their children were:

   1. Carrie Emily, born Nov. 17, 1877.

   2. Laura May, born Sept. 16, 1879

   3. Frank Newton, born Nov. 21, 1882, died July.

   4. Ross Elizabeth, born March 30, 1885

   5. Frank Newton, born April 30, 1887.

   6. Edith Marguerite, born Dec. 9, 1890.

4. Mary, born in Brecksville, May 20, 1847, died Jan. 2, 1849, Milan, Ohio.

5. Frank Frelinghusen, born in Milan, Ohio, Oct 20, 1850, graduated from Beloit College 1871 and New York Union Seminary 1880, ordained at Evansville 1882, married Oct. 2, 1889, Milwaukee, Edit Holton Millard, daughter of Will and Eliza Millard [born 16 July, 1870].

   1. Newton Elliott, born San Antonio, Tex., Aug. 1, 1890

   2. Philip Edward, born Milwaukee, WI, Oct 16, 1892

   3. Richard Leigh, born Prairie du Sac, WI, Jan. 30, 1895, died Aug 5, 1900

Edith Holton Millard was born Milwaukee, WI, 16 July, 1870, died Prairie du Sac, WI, Feb 7, 1895. Frank died Prairie du Sac, WI, Mar. 18, 1898. They are laid together in the Prairie du Sac cemetery.

[handwritten additions to Newton Elliott Barrett’s copy:

Entry made 1919

Newton Barrett married Alma Catharine Beck, daughter of William and Frederica Beck, May 25, 1917, Alma was born Feb 23, 1895.

Philip Edward Barrett married Marion Whitlock in 1917

Children: Philip Whitlock, born May 1918

Margaret Millard, born 1921]