https://www.omekaclassic4.nhlibraries.org/files/original/af7ddeb890bfce2cec377700aeb47968.pdf d6309ea6840d16cebf36f199708c0d72 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource The New Hampshire Troubadour Subject The topic of the resource Troubadour Description An account of the resource The New Hampshire Troubadour was a publication of the State of New Hampshire's State Planning and Development Commission in Concord, NH from 1931-1950s. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource The State of New Hampshire Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available The State of New Hampshire Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1930s-1950s Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource NHSL Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource State of New Hampshire Troubadour PDF files of the Troubadour OCR OCR of the Troubadour September 1947 The 7\[eiv:Hampshire Troubadour.4 country r<*ui near llaiun'vr in autumn DAVIO PIKRCR^Jhc r lew ^rrantpAnire roubactour COMES TO YOU EVERY MONTH SINGING THE PRAISES OF NEW HAMPSHIRE, A STATE WHOSE BEAUTY AND OPPORTUNITIES SHOULD TEMPT YOU TO COME AND SHARE THOSE GOOD THINGS THAT MAKE LIFE HERE SO DELIGHTFUL. IT IS SENT TO YOU BY THE STATE PLANNING AND DEVELOPMENT COMMISSION AT CONCORD, NEW HAMPSHIRE. FIFTY CENTS A YEAR ANDREW M. HEATH, Editor volume XVII September, 1947 number 6 AUTUMN TRAIL h} ^JJarry C^fmore _J4urcl in “ West of East” I know a thousand trails beneath the sun But I shall yearn to travel only one When autumn comes to claim the ripening seeds: My woodland trail is hemmed by rattling weeds And asters purpling the pasture fence. No poet’s art or verbal eloquence Could half transmit the beauty of my trail To page or book . . . printed words would fail To paint the glory of one flaming tree. Come, friends, enjoy this ecstasy with me, For autumn is an all-consuming fire, A heady wine, a madness of desire: Let one scared partridge rise on thundering wings And I am happier than clowns or kings!Pond in Chocorua viliagr OVER THE HIGHLANDS OF WESTERN NEW HAMPSHIRE From “Along New England Roads” by W. C. Prime, published by Harper & Brothers, 1892. Reprinted by permission. IT was a fresh autumn morning when we left the village of New London, high up on the hills of central New Hampshire, and drove westward, without any definite idea of our destination. New Hampshire possesses all kinds of scenery and soil. The northern mountain country falls ofT into a valley which crosses the western half of the State, in no very direct line, from the valley of the Connecticut near Hanover to the valley of the Merrimac near Franklin Falls. South of this valley — the west half of the State —running north and south, is a range of highlands, mostly now or formerly under cultivation, rising in farm-lands at times to a height which I believe is considerably more than 1000 feet above the sea. You know Mount Kearsarge, near North Conway. But few persons seem to know that there is another Mount Kearsarge in the State. This lies at the northern or north-eastern end of the range of highlands of which I speak, and is, in part, in the town of New London, or directly east of it in Warner, the next town. It is a noble hill, rising alone out of the cultivated rolling lands. Away down in the south-western part of the State a similar mountain rises in stately grandeur, Monadnock by name, and thence the highlands of New Hampshire fall off gently towards Massachusetts. This topographical account is not interesting, but it is necessary to understand it if you would understand carriage travel to the southward in the State, west of the Merrimac River. You can drive from the Profile House or the Crawford House to Hartford, following the valleys of the Amonoosuck and the Connecticut, without a hill of any account on the road. The scenery along the entire route is lovely beyond all praise, its variety infinite, its beauty equal in spring, summer, and autumn. The roads are, however, somewhat sandy and heavy, especially in dry weather. You can also drive from either notch, Franconia or the Crawf- ford, through the eastern part of New Hampshire southward to Massachusetts, over roads without severe hills and with varying scenery, most of it very beautiful. But I prefer the hill roads through the highland country between the Merrimac and the Connecticut. These roads are in general good, the roadbeds hard, and the many fine views repay the labor of climbing hills. Withal, horses do better, if carefully driven, on rolling than on level roads. I had come from the Profile House down the Pemigewasset Valley through Plymouth to Bristol, thence across to New London, via Danbury, Wilmot, and Scythcville. At this last place I hadreached the bottom of the crossvalley which I have mentioned, and thence the road to New London was uphill all the way, with Kearsarge on the left and behind us. New London is one of the high hill-towns, and every house in the village looks off many miles over fields and forests. Turning the horses’ heads to the southward, I could have gone down through Sutton and Bradford, and thence over tremendous hills to Washington. Turning them to the west, I should have a short drive to Lake Sunapec, which lies on the upland, surrounded by low wooded hills. I had driven both roads repeatedly. I am never tired of driving the last named, for it is exceedingly beautiful, and we chose it now. In half an hour we were going through the dense woods which skirt Little Sunapee, the upper of a chain of three lakes, and of which you see only glimpses as you pass along by it, until you reach its outlet, which goes down into Otter Pond. Here the road strikes the upper end of Otter Pond, and sweeps around on its open shore for a quarter-mile.The pond is charming, a mile or two long and nearly as wide. The shore is clean sand and the water pellucid. I have waded off on this hard, sandy bottom and taken black bass with the fly, casting out to right and left, while my horses stood waiting on the road. VVe drove slowly around the head of Otter Pond, then through the forest road along its rocky shore, with the water lapping over the stones and making pleasant music in the sunshine. Then we came out of the woods at the little village of George’s Mills. Here is the outlet of the pond, which falls over two or three saw-mill dams in its short course into Lake Sunapec. Sunapee is a large, wandering lake, presenting wherever you strike it abundant beauty of scenery. Bold, rocky headlands, covered with timber, jut out into it, and deep shadowy bays lie between them. 1 never yet have gotten to knowing which way is up and which way is down the lake or how it stretches its chief length. Properly speaking, this principal inlet, the only one of any account at George’s Mills, ought to mark the head of the lake; but a long, narrow arm which goes far away to the eastward, along whose shores are villas and cottages, and which heads at Newbury, on the Concord and Claremont Railroad, always tempts me to consider that the upper end of the lake. However, there is no mistaking the outlet at Sunapee Harbor, into which I drove before dinner. Here Sugar River, a roaring torrent (depending on how high they lift the gate-way of the dam which holds back the lake), plunges down a steep declivity and finds the valley, through which it winds with clear and swift flow to Newport, and thence to Claremont and the Connecticut. VVe dined, and then decided to linger for the day. I took a boat and rowed miles and miles along the shores; landed here and there in golden forests or dark pine groves; cast flies where bass, if not yet gone to their winter sleep, ought to be found; took several that were not eight inches long, and were put back to go to bed and grow next year; and so idled away the afternoon. The night came on cold.Next day we rode with the carriage-cover thrown back, to give us what warmth we might get from the sun shining through the still dense smoke. The road follows the river down to Newport; but we did not stop in that thriving town, except to post letters and send some telegrams. Driving through it, we crossed the valley and took the hill road to Unity or Unitoga Springs. This is a lonesome but very charming country-place, where are mineral springs and an old hotel. We had the house to ourselves; and again the loveliness of the atmosphere, the rich foliage on the near hills, and the dust of gold smoke that made a canopy over us and hid the far views, all tempted us to stay. I spent the afternoon in the woods on the shore of a small lake a mile from the hotel. I went there to fish; but the only boats on the lake were full of water, and there was no spot on the shore where I could get out a cast of more than twenty feet. At that I took some perch and small pickerel with the fly, but gave it up soon and wandered in the woods, rich in ferns and mosses. The next morning I sought and found a road, before unknown to me, by which to reach the Connecticut Valley; for it was Saturday, and I proposed that my horses and I should rest over Sunday in the fine old village of Charlestown. It was only nineteen miles from Unity Springs, but in carriage travel we never, unless from some peculiar pressure, seek to accomplish great distances. Thepurpose is the enjoyment of the passing hours. I often linger along the road and cover only two or three or a half-dozen miles in a forenoon. So it was along this charming road. When I reached Charlestown I had driven only 108 miles from the Profile House in six days. Sometimes I drive 180 in the same time, taking the road leisurely and keeping the horses unwearied. Note — Dr. Prime has used the old spelling for the Merrimack and Ammonoosuc rivers, and refers to the village of Scythevillc, now Elkins. Unitoga Springs, once a popular summer resort and site of mineral springs, burned many years ago and was never rebuilt. Although much of the route taken by Dr. Prime is now a modern highway, the region of which he writes, characteristic ot New Hampshire, is crossed by a network of country roads. Canopied by brilliant foliage and carpeted by crisp fallen leaves, these delightful byways which lead past forgotten cellar holes to peaceful valleys and hidden ponds, are well worth exploring during the autumn season. —The Editor THE RESURRECTION OF A COUNTRY SCHOOLHOUSE lyWorn On the Fourth of July in the little settlement of Lockehaven, township of Enfield, a holiday ceremony took place to celebrate the opening of a tiny schoolhouse, restored as a museum piece for future generations to enjoy. Realizing how rapidly our old country schools are disappearing, Wilson B. Roberts of New Haven, Connecticut, who in his youth attended the Lockehaven school, conceived the idea of restoring and refurnishing this delapidated building as a tangible and lasting record of a type of school now almost extinct. Fortunatelyanother former pupil, Harry A. Nichols, still living on an adjacent farm, was able, with a little local help, to undertake the difficult task of restoration. As a result of his enthusiasm and skilled craftsmanship the building, which was at the point of disintegration when the work began, is now as sound as it was when first built nearly a century ago. While work on the building was progressing, Mr. Roberts and others interested in the project were scouring the countryside for appropriate furnishings. Some of the school's original desks were discovered and others of the same vintage, with seats graduated according to the size of the pupils, were found and installed. A teacher’s desk was salvaged from a country school, and a box stove, old maps, and other school furnishings were donated by interested friends. Now, as one enters the schoolroom, it gives the impression of being still in use, with teacher and scholars about to take their places behind their The Pool, Flume Reservation, Franconia Well-WOm desks. winston pote On the walls of the schoolroom hang framed certificates, old school records and other items of historic interest, including an almost complete photographic record of former teachers. And in the vestibule stands the old pigeonholed desk that once held letters for residents of Lockehaven when that small village boasted a post office of its own. In June, after many months of hard work, the restoration was completed and invitations were sent out to all former teachers and pupils, still fortunate enough tobe alive, as well as to East Hill and Lockehaven neighbors, to attend the formal opening of District School, Number 4. And on the afternoon of July fourth well over a hundred people gathered on the sunny slope in front of the schoolhouse. Mr. Roberts was master of ceremonies. After Miss Marion Locke, standing on the schoolhouse steps, had played the Star Spangled Banner on her cornet, he spoke briefly about his reasons for saving the old school and paid tribute to all who had helped in its restoration. He then introduced many of the former teachers and pupils, the oldest present being Mrs. Mary Jane Fogg Shipman, ninety- four years old, of Enfield who described how she had learned her A,B,C’s here in the days before Lincoln’s inauguration. Other old timers recalled amusing episodes from their school days at Lockehaven, and appropriate poems were recited by young and old. State Senator Earl S. Hewitt of Enfield, speaking of the value of such an achievement, expressed the hope that the State of New Hampshire might take over the school as an historic landmark. At the close of the informal speeches refreshments were served and old schoolmates and neighbors had a chance to talk over the good old days. Throughout the ceremonies the Stars and Stripes fluttered in the breeze above the trim white building and the Fourth of July seemed a very appropriate day for us to pay our respects to District School, Number 4, Lockehaven, New Hampshire, as a symbol of the intellectual freedom fostered there, and in countless other rural schools throughout the United States, during the past century. {Anyone interested in visiting this schoolhouse must find his way via Enfield, to Lockehaven at the outlet of Crystal Lake. He must then keep on up East Hill for a quarter of a mile, past the schoolhouse, to the Nichols' homestead, at the first fork in the road, where a key to the building may be obtained. Less enterprising visitors may get a general view of the interior of the schoolroom by peering through the unshuttered windows, but they will miss many of the finer points of interest.)An old housr at North Conway as sren in Si-pti-mbrr WILD FOX GRAPES L CL. C amp The wild fox grapes are ripening in New Hampshire! They are clinging in plump clusters high in the trees. Their vines are endless and their fruit is nearly hidden by the branches and leaves of the forest. Only those who really search find the fox grapes. They are not to be had by those who sit and wait for good things to fall in theirlaps. These grapes are the rich reward of the lover of the woods — the man who tramps the hills for the joy of being where the wild bees live. The whereabouts of the fox grapes is usually a secret. Like hidden treasure, they are guarded by their discoverer. I am thinking of a man who, each autumn, took his basket down from its nail and melted into the woods. He invited no one, though he was not a selfish man by any means. I think he never risked taking a guest for fear the magic of the trip would somehow be lost. One must appreciate the honor of looking upon the fox grapes growing. So this man went alone, and at nightfall he returned home, tired and radiant and proud of his grapes. Their sweet fragrance is unforgettable. Shut me up blindfolded with a thousand perfumes and I will choose for you the best of all — the fox grape’s poignant, luscious aroma that has remained in my heart since first I breathed it when I was a very little girl. I am making fox grape jelly right now. Fourteen scintillating glasses are finished and the next batch is about to boil. Making jelly is no mean job when it is fox grape. It is romantic and adventurous ! I am capturing all the goodness of our native woods! The swish of the big owl’s flight! The inaudible whisper of the red fox's brush! The sweetness of the partridge berry in bloom! The sharp tang of our oaks! The busy rustle of the towhee under the bushes! Making jelly? I am rather pouring glory into little glasses. The New Hampshire Autumn Foliage Bulletin is issued in four weekly editions for the convenience of visitors during the season of foliage color, which occurs between mid-September and mid-October, according to weather and location. The bulletins, which report the progress of foilage coloration and include suggestions for autumn visitors, will be sent upon request.Front Cover: An autumn pastoral near Greenland. Color photo by Douglas Armsden. Back Cover: East Village School at Croydon. Color photo by Wen- day. Referring to the poem on the back cover, Mrs. Chadwell writes, “I still remember the room in a small school outside of Derry, N. H., where I attended the second grade, and where this poem was inspired, after 25 years.” Philadelphia, Penna. July 16, 1947 Governor Charles M. Dale Concord New Hampshire Dear Sir: I just wrote what you might call a “bread and butter” letter to your Forest Supervisor at Laconia, and felt that the same would be justified to the executive branch of your state. A party of four, two couples, we just completed a trip through the White Mountains. We camped nights and cooked two meals daily at various camps you have provided. The helpfulness and hospitality of the people and rangers seem unbounding, and the extensiveness of your program to help the public enjoy nature at close range is magnificent. With my sincere thanks, I am Sincerely yours, Alfred G. Lambert — Mr. Lambert refers especially to the federally operated White Mountain National Forest. “We feel that, since the Mac- Dowell Colony has become a national institution, with colonists from twenty-seven states and Canada, its support should no longer be borne chiefly by a few, but should likewise be broadened to a national scale. In the current readjustment of the affairs of the Colony, we believe that such nation-wide support would be forthcoming, if all persons interested in the arts were given an opportunity to join the Edward MacDowell Association, and thus for a small charge to help perpetuate the Colony.” — From a recently circulated statement by twelve MacDowell colonists in behalf of the Edward MacDowell Association. Inc.. 1083 Fifth Avenue. Sew York 28, N.Y. Wallpaper showing scenes in the Monadnock region adorns the walls of the old Tavern coffee shop atPeterborough. Mount Monadnock from Pitcher Mountain, a covered bridge in Swanzey, a church in Hancock, and an old saw mill in East Sullivan arc depicted. Troubadour readers are invited to visit the New Hampshire Information Bureau, 10 Rockefeller Plaza, New York, at any time. New Hampshire cordiality and helpfulness are maintained by an efficient staff, which is always ready to provide information on the state’s facilities, attractions, and resources for prospective visitors or home seekers, and on industrial or farming opportunities as well. The New Hampshire country fair schedule began in August with the Mascoma Valley and Pittsfield fairs. Dates of remaining fairs: Aug. 29-Sept. 1 — Lancaster Aug. 30-Sept. 2 — Hopkinton September 1-6 — Pittsfield September 4, 5, 6 — Cheshire Fair, Swanzey (near Keene) September 9-12 — Plymouth September 15-20 Rochester September 25-27 — Deerfield October 6, 7 — Derry October 13 — Sandwich New Hampshire Troubadour Representatives of the state will lx* on hand to welcome the public at the New Hampshire Building on the Avenue of States at the Eastern States Exposition, West Spring- field, Mass., September 14 to 20. Interesting exhibits are being prepared for the first showing of the exposition since 1942. BIG DEER The April 1947 issue of Outdoors contains this interesting item: Editor: I've read with interest the items in Outdoors relating to the size of deer in Michigan and New Hampshire, and particularly the letter from a resident of my state who says that he has seen more than 500 deer weighed, with none heavier than 262 pounds. In 1904 my husband shot a deer near Errol, N. H., that weighed, after being dressed, exactly 327 lbs. This, mind you, is not an estimate, but the figure on the American Express Co.’s receipt. One witness to the shooting and weighing of the deer is still living, and can verify the story if your doubting New' Hampshire reader is still unconvinced. — Mrs, S. J. Crownin- shield, Springfield. N. H. RUMFORD PRESS CONCORD N M.Wide, opened windows hold the sky, And silver birches, rustling near, Bow wind-swaved slender trunks beside The crystal brook whose song is clear. Small children, heads bent over books. Arc counting moments, as they pass, Remembering the swimming-creek, And bare feet touched by velvet grass. Pauline S. Chadwell in Ave Maria Magazine Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context 4677Troubadour194709 Title A name given to the resource The New Hampshire Troubadour September 1947 Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource New Hampshire State Planning and Development Commission Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1947-09 Description An account of the resource The New Hampshrie Troubadour was a monthly publication of the New Hampshire State Planning and Development Commission. The magazine was printed between 1931 and 1951. Language A language of the resource eng Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant New Hampshire Provenance A statement of any changes in ownership and custody of the resource since its creation that are significant for its authenticity, integrity, and interpretation. The statement may include a description of any changes successive custodians made to the resource. New Hampshire State Library Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource No Copyright - United States Subject The topic of the resource Croyden, schools, Dublin, wild fox grapes Type The nature or genre of the resource Text Croyden Dublin schools wild fox grapes