Читать книгу History of the American Clock Business for the Past Sixty Years, and Life of Chauncey Jerome - Chauncey Jerome - Страница 5

I was born in the town of Canaan, Litchfield County, in the State of Connecticut, on the 10th day of June, 1793. My parents were poor but respectable and industrious. My father was a blacksmith and wrought-nail maker by trade, and the father of six children—four sons and two daughters. I was the fourth child.

In January, 1797, he moved from Canaan to the town of Plymouth, in the same County, and in the following spring built a blacksmith shop, which was large enough for three or four men to work at the nail making business, besides carrying on the blacksmithing. At that time all the nails used in the country were hammered by hand out of iron rods, which practice has almost entirely been done away by the introduction of cut nails.

My advantages for education were very poor. When large enough to handle a hoe, or a bundle of rye, I was kept at work on the farm. The only opportunity I had for attending school was in the winter season, and then only about three months in the year, and at a very poor school. When I was nine years old, my father took me into the shop to work, where I soon learned to make nails, and worked with him in this way until his death, which occurred on the fifth of October, 1804. For two or three days before he died, he suffered the most excruciating pains from the disease known as the black colic. The day of his death was a sad one to me, for I knew that I should lose my happy home, and be obliged to leave it to seek work for my support. There being no manufacturing of any account in the country, the poor boys were obliged to let themselves to the farmers, and it was extremely difficult to find a place to live where they would treat a poor boy like a human being. Never shall I forget the Monday morning that I took my little bundle of clothes, and with a bursting heart bid my poor mother good bye.

I knew that the rest of the family had got to leave soon, and I perhaps never to see any of them again. Being but a boy and naturally very sympathizing, it really seemed as if my heart would break to think of leaving my dear old home for good, but stern necessity compelled me, and I was forced to obey.

The first year after leaving home I was at work on a farm, and almost every day when alone in the fields would burst into tears—not because I had to work, but because my father was dead whom I loved, and our happy family separated and broken up never to live together again. In my new place I was kept at work very hard, and at the age of fourteen did almost the work of a man. It was a very lonely place where we lived, and nothing to interest a child of my age. The people I lived with seemed to me as very old, though they were probably not more than thirty-six years of age, and felt no particular interest in me, more than to keep me constantly at work, early and late, in all kinds of weather, of which I never complained. I have many times worked all day in the woods, chopping down trees, with my shoes filled with snow; never had a pair of boots till I was more than twenty years old. Once in two weeks I was allowed to go to church, which opportunity I always improved.

I liked to attend church, for I could see so many folks, and the habit which I then acquired has never to this day left me, and my love for it dates back to this time in my youth, though the attractions now are different.

I shall never forget how frightened I was at the great eclipse which took place on the 16th of June, 1806, and which so terrified the good people in every part of the land. They were more ignorant about such operations of the sun fifty-four years ago than at the present time. I had heard something about eclipses but had not the faintest idea what it could be. I was hoeing corn that day in a by-place three miles from town, and thought it certainly was the day of judgment. I watched the sun steadily disappearing with a trembling heart, and not till it again appeared bright and shining as before, did I regain my breath and courage sufficient to whistle.

The winter before I was fifteen years old, I went to live with a house carpenter to learn the trade, and was bound to him by my guardian till I was twenty-one years old, and was to have my board and clothes for my services. I learned the business very readily, and during the last three years of my apprenticeship could do the work of a man.

It was a very pleasant family that I lived with while learning my trade. In the year 1809 my "boss" took a job in Torringford, and I went with him. After being absent several months from home, I felt very anxious to see my poor mother who lived about two miles from Plymouth. She lived alone—with the exception of my youngest brother about nine years old. I made up my mind that I would go down and see her one night. In this way I could satisfy my boss by not losing any time. It was about twenty miles, and I only sixteen years old. I was really sorry after I had started, but was not the boy to back out. It took me till nearly morning to get there, tramping through the woods half of the way; every noise I heard I thought was a bear or something that would kill me, and the frightful notes of the whippoorwill made my hair stand on end. The dogs were after me at every house I passed. I have never forgotten that night. The boys of to-day do not see such times as I did.

The next year, 1810, my boss took a job in Ellsworth Society, Litchfield County. I footed it to and from that place several times in the course of the year, with a load of joiners' tools on my back. What would a boy 17 years old now think to travel thirty miles in a hot summer's day, with a heavy load of joiners' tools on his back? But that was about the only way that we could get around in those days. At that time there were not half a dozen one-horse wagons in the whole town. At that place I attended the church of Rev. Daniel Parker, father of Hon. Amasa J. Parker, of Albany, who was then a little boy four or five years old. I often saw him at meeting with his mother. He is a first cousin of F.S. & J. Parker of this city, two highly respectable men engaged in the paper business.

In the fall of 1811, I made a bargain with the man that I was bound to, that if he would give me four months in the winter of each year when the business was dull, I would clothe myself. I therefore went to Waterbury, and hired myself to Lewis Stebbins, (a singing master of that place,) to work at making the dials for the old fashioned long clock. This kind of business gave me great satisfaction, for I always had a desire to work at clocks. In 1807, when I was fourteen years old, I proposed to my guardian to get me a place with Mr. Eli Terry, of Plymouth, to work at them. Mr. Terry was at that time making more clocks than any other man in the country, about two hundred in a year, which was thought to be a great number.

My guardian, a good old man, told me that there was so many clocks then making, that the country would soon be filled with them, and the business would be good for nothing in two or three years. This opinion of that wise man made me feel very sad. I well remember, when I was about twelve years old, what I heard some old gentleman say, at a training, (all of the good folks in those days were as sure to go to training as to attend church,) they were talking about Mr. Terry; the foolish man they said, had begun to make two hundred clocks; one said, he never would live long enough to finish them; another remarked, that if he did he never would, nor could possibly sell so many, and ridiculed the very idea.

I was a little fellow, but heard and swallowed every word those wise men said, but I did not relish it at all, for I meant some day to make clocks myself, if I lived.

What would those good old men have thought when they were laughing at and ridiculing Mr. Terry, if they had known that the little urchin who was so eagerly listening to their conversation would live to make Two Hundred Thousand metal clocks in one year, and many millions in his life. They have probably been dead for years, that little boy is now an old man, and during his life has seen these great changes. The clock business has grown to be one of the largest in the country, and almost every kind of American manufactures have improved in much the same ratio, and I cannot now believe that there will ever be in the same space of future time so many improvements and inventions as those of the past half century—one of the most important in the history of the world. Everyday things with us now would have appeared to our forefathers as incredible. But returning to my story—having got myself tolerably well posted about clocks at Waterbury, I hired myself to two men to go into the state of New Jersey, to make the old fashioned seven foot standing clock-case. Messrs. Hotchkiss and Pierpont, of Plymouth, had been selling that kind of a clock without the cases, in the northern part of that State, for about twenty dollars, apiece. The purchasers, had complained to them however, that there was no one in that region that could make the case for them, which prevented many others from buying. These two men whom I went with, told them that they would get some one to go out from Connecticut, to make the case, and thought they could be made for about eighteen or twenty dollars apiece, which would then make the whole clock cost about forty dollars—not so very costly after all; for a clock was then considered the most useful of anything that could be had in a family, for what it cost. I entered into an agreement with these men at once, and a few days after, we three started on the 14th Dec., 1812, in an old lumber wagon, with provisions for the journey, to the far off Jersey. This same trip can now be made in a few hours. We were many days. We passed through Watertown, and other villages, and stopped the first night at Bethel. This is the very place where P.T. Barnum was born, and at about this time, of whom I shall speak more particularly hereafter. The next morning we started again on our journey, and not many hours after, arrived in Norwalk, then quite a small village, situated on Long Island Sound; at this place I saw the salt water for the first time in my life, also a small row-boat, and began to feel that I was a great traveler indeed. The following night we stopped at Stamford, which was, as I viewed it, a great place; here I saw a few sloops on the Sound, which I thought was the greatest sight that I had ever seen. This was years before a steamboat had ever passed through the Sound. The next morning we started again for New York, and as we passed along I was more and more astonished at the wonderful things that I saw, and began to think that the world was very extensive. We did not arrive at the city until night, but there being a full moon every thing appeared as pleasant, as in the day-time. We passed down through the Bowery, which was then like a country village, then through Chatham street to Pearl street, and stopped for the night at a house kept by old Mr. Titus. I arose early the next morning and hurried into the street to see how a city looked by day-light. I stood on the corner of Chatham and Pearl for more than an hour, and I must confess that if I was ever astonished in my life, it was at that time. I could not understand why so many people, of every age, description and dress, were hurrying so in every direction. I asked a man what was going on, and what all this excitement meant, but he passed right along without noticing me, which I thought was very uncivil, and I formed a very poor opinion of those city folks. I ate nothing that morning, for I thought I could be in better business for a while at least. I wandered about gazing at the many new sights, and went out as far as the Park; at that time the workmen were finishing the interior of the City Hall. I was greatly puzzled to know how the winding stone stairs could be fixed without any seeming support and yet be perfectly safe. After viewing many sights, all of which were exceedingly interesting to me, I returned to the house where my companions were. They told me that they had just heard that the ship Macedonian, which was taken a few days before from the British by one of our ships, had just been brought into the harbor and lay off down by Burling Slip, or in that region. We went down to see her, and went on board. I was surprised and frightened to see brains and blood scattered about on the deck in every direction. This prize was taken by the gallant Decatur, but a short distance from New York. Hastening back from this sickening scene, we resumed our journey. My two companions had been telling me that we should have to cross the North River in a boat, and I did not understand how a boat could be made to carry our team and be perfectly safe, but when we arrived there, I was much surprised to see other teams that were to cross over with us, and a number of people. At that time an old scow crossed from New York City to the Jersey shore, once in about two hours. What a great change has taken place in the last forty-seven years; now large steam ferry boats are crossing and recrossing, making the trip in a few minutes. It was the first time that I had ever crossed a stream, except on a bridge, and I feared that we might upset and all be drowned, but no accident happened to us; we landed in safety, and went on our way rejoicing towards Elizabethtown. At that place I saw a regiment of soldiers from Kentucky, who were on their way to the northern frontier to fight the British. They were a rough set of fellows, and looked as though they could do a great deal of fighting. It will be remembered that this was the time of the last war with England. We passed on through Elizabethtown and Morristown to Dutch Valley, where we stopped for the night. We remained at this place a few days, looking about for a cabinet shop, or a suitable place to make the clock cases. Not succeeding, we went a mile further north, to a place called Schooler's Mountain; here we found a building that suited us. It was then the day before Christmas. The people of that region, we found, kept that day more strictly than the Sabbath, and as we were not ready to go to work, we passed Christmas day indoors feeling very lonely indeed. The next day we began operations. A young man from the lower part of New Jersey worked with me all winter. We boarded ourselves in the same building that we worked in, I doing all of the house-work and cooking, none of which was very fine or fancy, our principal food being pork, potatoes and bread, using our work-bench for a table. Hard work gave us good appetite.

We would work on an average about fifteen hours a day, the house-work not occupying much of our time. I was then only nineteen years old, and it hardly seems possible that the boys of the present day could pass through such trials and hardships, and live. We worked in this way all winter. When the job was finished, I took my little budget of clothes and started for home. I traveled the first day as far as Elizabethtown, and stopped there all night, but found no conveyance from there to New York. I was told that if I would go down to the Point, I might in the course of the day, get a passage in a sailing vessel to the city. I went down early in the morning and, after waiting till noon, found a chance to go with two men in a small sail boat. I was greatly alarmed at the strange motions of the boat which I thought would upset, and felt greatly relieved when I was again on terra firma.

I wandered about the streets of New York all that afternoon, bought a quantity of bread and cheese, and engaged a passage on the Packet Sloop Eliza, for New Haven, of her Captain Zebulon Bradley. I slept on board of her that night at the dock, the next day we set sail for New Haven, about ten o'clock in the forenoon, with a fair wind, and arrived at the long wharf in (that city) about eight o'clock the same day. I stopped at John Howe's Hotel, at the head of the wharf. This was the first time that I was ever in this beautiful city, and I little thought then that I ever should live there, working at my favorite business, with three hundred men in my employ, or that I should ever be its Mayor.—Times change.

Very early the next morning, after looking about a little, I started with my bundle of clothes in one hand, and my bread and cheese in the other, to find the Waterbury turnpike, and after dodging about for a long time, succeeded in finding it, and passed on up through Waterbury to Plymouth, walking the whole distance, and arrived home about three o'clock in the afternoon. This was my first trip abroad, and I really felt that I was a great traveler, one who had seen much of the world! What a great change has taken place in so short space of time.

Soon after I returned from my western trip, there began to be a great excitement throughout the land, about the war. It was proposed by the Governor of Connecticut, John Cotton Smith, of Sharon, to raise one or two regiments of State troops to defend it in case of invasion. One Company of one hundred men, was raised in the towns of Waterbury, Watertown, Middlebury, Plymouth and Bethlem, and John Buckingham chosen Captain, who is now living in Waterbury; the other commissioned officers of the company, were Jas. M.L. Scovill, of Waterbury, and Joseph H. Bellamy, of Bethlem. The company being composed of young men, and I being about the right age, had of course to be one of them.

Early in the Summer of 1813, the British fleet run two of our ships of war up the Thames River, near New London. Their ships being so large could not enter, but lay at its mouth. Their presence so near greatly alarmed the citizens of that city, and in fact, all of the people in the eastern part of the State. Our regiment was ordered to be ready to start for New London by the first of August. The Plymouth company was called together on Sunday, which was the first of August, and exercised on the Green in front of the church, in the fore part of the day. This unusual occurrence of a military display on the Sabbath greatly alarmed the good people of the congregation, but it really was a case of necessity, we were preparing to defend our homes from a foreign foe.

In the afternoon we attended church in a body, wearing our uniforms, to the wonder and astonishment of boys, but terrible to the old people. On Monday morning we started on a march to Hartford, sleeping that night in a barn, in the eastern part of Farmington, and reaching Hartford the next day, where we joined the other companies, and all started for New London. The first night we slept in a barn in East Hartford, and the second one in an old church in Marlboro. I remember lying on the seat of a pew, with my knapsack under my head. We arrived at New London on Saturday, marching the whole distance in the first week in August, and a hotter time I have never experienced since. We were dressed in heavy woolen clothes, carrying heavy guns and knapsacks, and wearing large leather caps. It was indeed a tedious job. We were whole days traveling what can now be done in less than as many hours, and were completely used up when we arrived there, which would not appear strange. We were immediately stationed on the high ground, back from the river, about half way between the city and the light-house, in plain view of the enemy's ships. They would frequently, when there was a favorable wind, hoist their sails and beat about in the harbor, making a splendid appearance, and practising a good deal with their heavy guns on a small American sloop, which they had taken and anchored a long distance off. The bounding of the cannon balls on the water was an interesting sight to me. The first night after our arrival, I was put on guard near the Light-house, and in plain sight of the ships. I was much afraid that the sharp shooters from their barges would take me for a target and be smart enough to hit me; and a heavy shower with thunder and lightning passing over us during the night, did not alleviate my distress. I was but a boy, only twenty years old, and would naturally be timid in such a situation, but I passed the night without being killed; it seems that was not the way that I was to die.

I soon became sick and disgusted with a soldier's life; it seemed to be too lazy and low-lived to suit me, and, as near as I could judge, the inhabitants thought us all a low set of fellows. I never have had a desire to live or be anywhere without I could be considered at least as good as the average, which failing I have now as strong as ever. We not having any battles to fight, had no opportunities of showing our bravery, and after guarding the city for forty-five days, were discharged; over which we made a great rejoicing, and returned home by the way of New Haven, which was my second visit to this city. The North and Centre Churches were then building, also, the house now standing at the North-east corner of the Green, owned then by David DeForest; stopping here over night, we pased [sic.] on home to Plymouth. I had not slept on a bed since I left home, and would have as soon taken the barn floor as a good bed. This ended my first campaign.

After this I went to work at my trade, the Joiners business. I was still an apprentice; would not be twenty-one till the next June.

The War was not yet over, and in October, 1814, our Regiment was ordered by Governor Smith to New Haven, to guard the city. Col. Sanford, (father of Elihu and Harvey Sanford of this city,) commanded us. On arriving, we were stationed at the old slaughter-house, in the Eastern part of the city, at the end of Green street. All the land East of Academy street was then in farmers' lots, and planted with corn, rye and potatoes now covered with large manufactories and fine dwellings. I little thought then, that I should have the largest Clock-factory in the world, within a stone's throw of my sleeping-place, as has since proved. Nothing of much importance took place during our campaign at New Haven. The British did not land or molest us. We built a large fort on the high grounds, on the East Haven side, which commanded the Harbor, the ruins of which can now be seen from the city. A good deal of fault was found by the officers and men with the provisions, which were very poor. When this campaign closed I was through with my military glory, and returned to my home, sick and disgusted with a soldier's life. I hope our country will not be disgraced with another war.

All of the old people will remember what a great rejoicing there was through the whole country, when peace was declared in February, 1815. I was married about that time to Salome Smith, daughter of Capt. Theophilus Smith, one of the last of the Puritanical families there was in the town; she made one of the best of wives and mothers. She died on the 6th of March, 1854. We lived together 39 years. A short time after we were married, I moved to the town of Farmington, and hired a house of Mr. Chauncey Deming to live in, and went to work for Capt. Selah Porter, for twenty dollars per month. We built a house for Maj. Timothy Cowles, which was then the best one in Farmington. I was not worth at this time fifty dollars in the world.

1815, the year after the war, was, probably the hardest one there has been for the last hundred years, for a young man to begin for himself.

Pork was sold for thirteen dollars per hundred, Flour at thirteen dollars per barrel; Molasses was sold for seventy-five cents per gallon, and brown Sugar at thirty-four cents per pound. I remember buying some cotton cloth for a common shirt, for which I paid one dollar a yard, no better than can now be bought for ten cents. I mention these things to let the young men know what a great change has taken place, and what my prospects were at that time. Not liking this place, I moved back to Plymouth. I did not have money enough to pay my rent, which however, was not due until the next May, but Mr. Deming, who by the way, was one of the richest men in the State, was determined that I should not go till I had paid him. I promised him that he should have the money when it was due, if my life was spared, and he finally consented to let me go. When it came due I walked to Farmington, fifteen miles, paid him and walked back the same day, feeling relieved and happy. I obtained the job of finishing the inside of a dwelling house, which gave me great encouragement. The times were awful hard and but little business done at anything. It would almost frighten a man to see a five dollar bill, they were so very scarce. My work was about two miles from where I lived. My wife was confined about this time with her first babe. I would rise every morning two hours before day-light and prepare my breakfast, and taking my dinner in a little pail, bid my good wife good-by for the day, and start for my work, not returning till night. About this time the Congregational Society employed a celebrated music teacher to conduct the church singing, and I having always had a desire to sing sacred music, joined his choir and would walk a long distance to attend the singing schools at night after working hard all day. I was chosen chorister after a few weeks, which encouraged me very much in the way of singing, and was afterwards employed as a teacher to some extent, and for a long time led the singing there and at Bristol where I afterwards lived. The next summer was the cold one of 1816, which none of the old people will ever forget, and which many of the young have heard a great deal about. There was ice and snow in every month in the year. I well remember on the seventh of June, while on my way to work, about a mile from home, dressed throughout with thick woolen clothes and an overcoat on, my hands got so cold that I was obliged to lay down my tools and put on a pair of mittens which I had in my pocket. It snowed about an hour that day. On the tenth of June, my wife brought in some clothes that had been spread on the ground the night before, which were frozen stiff as in winter. On the fourth of July, I saw several men pitching quoits in the middle of the day with thick overcoats on, and the sun shining bright at the same time. A body could not feel very patriotic in such weather. I often saw men when hoeing corn, stop at the end of a row and get in the sun by a fence to warm themselves. Not half enough corn ripened that year to furnish seed for the next. I worked at my trade, and had the job of finishing the inside of a three-story house, having twenty-seven doors and a white oak matched floor to make, and did the whole for eighty-five dollars. The same work could not now be done as I did it for less than five hundred dollars. Such times as these were indeed hard for poor young men. We did not have many carpets or costly furniture and servants; but as winter approached times seemed to grow harder and harder. No work could be had. I was in debt for my little house and lot which I had bought only a short time before, near the center of Plymouth, and had a payment to make on it the next spring. I proposed going south to the city of Baltimore, to obtain work, and had already made preparations to go and leave my young family for the winter, at which I could not help feeling very sad, when I accidentally heard that Mr. Eli Terry was about to fit up his factory (which was built the year before,) for making his new Patent Shelf Clock. I thought perhaps I could get a job with him, and started immediately to see Mr. Terry, and closed a bargain with him at once. I never shall forget the great good feeling that this bargain gave me. It was a pleasant kind of business for me, and then I knew I could see my family once a week or oftener if necessary.