https://www.omekaclassic4.nhlibraries.org/files/original/561c296ba050a650143030348934287f.pdf d037d33283ec50d833e874306eee0d53 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 The New Hampshire TOUBADOUR MAY 1950 WINSTON POTE Blossoms of the shadbush or sugar plum at Lake Chocorua. Mt. Chocorua in in the background.ew ^ ^sue // svam/yjnire troubadour Comes to you every month, singing the praises oj .Yew Hampshire, a state whose beauty and opportunities should tempt you to come and share those good things that make life here so delightful. State Planning and Development Commission, Concord, .Yew Hampshire. One dollar a year. Entered as second-class matter. May 31, 1949, at the Post Office at Concord, Yew Hampshire, under the Act of March 3, 1S79. ANDREW M. HEATH, Edlfor Volume XX MAY, 1 950 Number 2 May Morning la ddrede rid 'WJ. Id rand This morning very early, when everything was still, I went up to my garden, asleep across the hill: 1 watched the sky grow brighter, the sun begin to shine, And thought the land was talking to those drowsy plants of mine. It spoke no human language, and yet I seemed to know That it was gently urging each plant to wake and grow, As it had done so often when Spring was in the air. Since someone cleared that hillside and marie a garden there. Then, as I stood and listened, the quiet voice was gone; A fragrant, sun-drenched morning kept the promise of the dawn; Along the ordered rows I saw the green tops lift and nod. And wondered if that quiet voice had been the voice of God.Painting by Harvey Kidder For an inland water has played an important role in the life of Harrisville. For example, the old chapel with the four-painted belfry is almost surrounded by the pond which at one time powered the town’s mills. "A SMALL MILL TOWN” Reprinted from Ford Times Personally, when I am traveling I like to be surprised — the right way, of course. And that’s the way it was with my coming upon, maybe I should say descending upon, Harrisville. I was rolling around the mountain, so to speak, when I came. Driving slowly through wooded upflung country, slanting fields and old orchards, tall stands of pine and hemlock and maple, high rounded hills in gigantic billows to the sky, and at every other turn a blue lake mirroring all the hilly world — that gently rugged country presided over by Grand Monadnock, lord of the mountains of southern New Hampshire. And I literally dropped down, down out of the woods, and 1 was on the shore of yet another lake and in Harrisville. Two minutes, or only one minute, and I was through the town, down a steep hill, and by the shore of a second lake set in wooded wilderness. But I turned around and went back. No guidebook had advised me. Rindge, Jaflrey, Dublin, Peter- boro, all within a short radius, 1 had found listed and extolled. In small print there had been the name of Harrisville with the bleak designation: “a small mill town.” That was all. And it was true enough. But I had had a glimpse — and the sudden hunch that Baedeker would have put a star after that entry and a word of advice: “Artists and lovers of the unusual take note.” For Harrisville is a mill town all right — but with a difference . . . To begin with, the outflow from the long lake now called Harrisville Pond becomes a broad canal and then plunges down a nearlyprecipitous gorge about a quarter of a mile to Lake Nuhanusit. The hills roll up on every side. And on a mere acre of level ground by pond and canal is a small cluster of ancient houses, a little chapel, and a tall church all of brick warmed and weathered by a hundred or more years. And this is the old heart of the town; it really is the town, serene, placid, and dignified. Looking down from the steep hillside are the newer white houses and the one store. And then strung along down the gorge is the mill. Its central building is of granite blocks, its wings of brick, and it has been running continuously for a hundred years. Near it stands what is left of the first mill with its old tower from which a rope pulley 2100 feet long transmitted power from water wheel to machinery. The present mill has recently gone over to electric power, with modern machines in the old buildings, and the place hums and throbs with the speed and efficiency of modern American industry. I spent an hour there following wool from the bag to the finished cloth ready to be shipped to New York, reflecting that here hidden in the hills was a way station for wool on a long journey. There’s a connection between the old brick houses and the peace of them and the interior hum of modern machinery. Abel Twitchell settled here in 1786. brought Bethuel Harris, later to be his son-in- law, here, cast his Yankee eye over the fall of water between two mountain lakes, and built a mill in 1813 for the manufacture of wooden ware. The place was called Twitched Village and was part of Dublin. But the villagers were independent. When they disagreed with Dublin over the gratuity to be voted the railroad that was being laid across New Hampshire, they just lopped off a goodly slice of Dublin, seceded with it, and incorporated themselves in 1870 as Harrisville. Today Harrisville numbers about 500, and 240 work in the mid. So it is a mill town ad right, but the point is — except that one can see the mid with his own eyes he would never know he was in a mid town. There is no traffic in Harrisville. There is no noise.■■■■■■I Doguvod in bloom at Portsmouth. There are no crowds. I saw one truck, and I saw one horse-drawn wagon, and I saw three pedestrians. The old brick houses with their white framed windows and doors, instead of bordering a Xew England common, are reflected in the lake and the canal. And serenity and silence brood over them as they brooded over the place when Abel Twitchell discovered it.lhe beautiful white-spired brick church, The First Congregational Church of Harrisvillc, presides over houses and shore and water. But what catches the eye is the little chapel near it, also of old brick, with a four-pointed low belfry. The chapel stands in the waters of the pond. New England has many beautiful old churches. I wonder if it has another old chapel in a great pond. Mrs. C. M. Miller, the wife of the minister, who received me with the kindest hospitality, explained that the chapel was built in 1840 as a place of worship until the church was built. After the church was completed in 1844 the chapel was for a time a girls’ academy. Now, because of the need of repairs to the church and the lack of central heating, the little chapel is used for services again. It was built on the shore. When the level of water was raised, it was surrounded on two sides, its cellar became part of the pond. It has always been a Congregational chapel, but I could not help but think to what good use Baptists would put it . . . 1 looked from the Millers’ house across the end of Harrisvillc Pond. On a hilly wooded island is the town cemetery. The eye moves right and sees the little chapel standing doubly in water, and beyond it the white sharp church spire, under its protection the handful of old houses. The instant the eye leaves them it catches the long reach of blue water and the wooded hills and distant mountains. Who said industry need be ugly? And a mill town a noisy place? I heard no sound except the notes of a thrush coming across water. I saw only utter serenity, the dignity of age, and watery reflections. “This is really a place of reflections,” I said. "Oh, yes.” Mrs. Miller said happily. “They say this is the most painted village in New Hampshire.” So the artists have found it without Baedeker. I might have known. Trust the artist's eye . . .A. N. HOl'CHARD II hat is this brushy Inal,inn pond? It is a poml ninth by In‘avers in southwestern New Hampshire. The actual loctit ion is not disclose*! for the sake of the fishermen tvho discovend it anil who catch "tdd fashioned" bn nth trout there. Hearers hare moth- a gtnd comcdmck in Xciv Hampshire, ami the state non has a special trapping season whence or the population is believed to be too large. The dams are interesting to the student of the U'oods as well as the trout fisherman. I went down the steep street, paused for a while again at the tiny center, reminding myself that this was a mill town, went over to the postoffice. 1 was the only person on the street. I sent oil a postcard of warning to the editor. Then 1 slipped away very quietly so as not to disturb the town and in a minute 1 w-as in the woods again.AMONG THE GREAT FROM THE GRANITE STATE Fourth Series mine SynireS, p/,2). I. I’hincas Davis (1800— September 27, 1835) On the thirty-first of December, 1949, the newspapers reported that the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad was that day discontinuing passenger service on its Old Main Line. This trackage represented the first successful steam railroad in American history. Its construction had begun on July 4, 1828, when Charles Carroll, the only surviving signer of the Declaration of Independence, had broken ground for the new common carrier. The first American passenger trains began to operate on the thirteen miles between Baltimore and Ellieott City in January, 1830. The Old Main Line ran almost due west from Baltimore and its right of way did not utilize the Potomac River valley until it reached Point of Rocks, Maryland. Five years after the Old Main Line was opened, the B.&O. ran a branch south from Baltimore to Washington. But not until 1868 were the present through tracks laid between Washington and a juncture with the Old Main Line at Point of Rocks. I mil after the Civil War, railway travellers into Washington from the West had to get to the national capital by the roundabout way of the Old Main Line. All this is preliminary to recalling that one of the key figures in the Baltimore and Ohio R.R. in its opening years was that little- known son of the Granite State: Phineas Davis. Born on a farm in Grafton, X. H., young Davis went to York, Pennsylvania in his middle teens, and threw himself into the study of mechanics and steam engines. Those were the days when the possiblities of steam as a prime source of power seemed as fascinating to young in-WINSTON POTS Fishing on the Israel Hirer at Jefferson ami view of Mis. Mntlison, Adams, Jefferson, W ashington, and .Monroe of the Presidential Range. ventors as atomic energy does in 1950. In January, 1831, dissatisfied with the performance of its locomotives in the first year of operation, — even Peter Cooper’s “Tom Thumb” had been found wanting — the B.&O. announced a prize competition which caught the eye of Phineas Davis. The railroad stated that it would award $4000 — equal to at least SI 6.000 today — to that inventor who, on or before June 1. 1831. would deliver the best locomotive to the company. It must burn coal or coke, consume its own smoke, and draw a minimum of fifteen tons at 15 in.p.h.Iii the five* months at his disposal Phineas Davis built suc h a locomotive, named it the “York,” and won the prize. Shortly thereafter the Baltimore and Ohio R.R. offered the successful inventor the managership of all its mechanical shops. In 1832 Davis accepted the position, and took up his headquarters in Baltimore. Quick to improve existing equipment, and alert to all the rapidly-moving developments in steam power, Phineas Davis seemed headed for a brilliant career as the master mechanic of the then principal railroad of the United States. Alas! the bright promise was not to be achieved. In the autumn of 1835, during a trial run on the new trackage lx*ing laid from Baltimore to Washington. Davis was killed in an accident. Today, as the Washington-bound traveller skims over the trunk line from Maryland's chief city to the nation’s capital, it all seems far away and long ago when the “York” was the most efficient locomotive in America. Yet it is worth remembering, at least by all those who love the story of the “Iron Horse,” that Phineas Davis, a native of the Granite State, was one of the most successful of the pioneer locomotive builders of this country. (Next month's article: Salmon Portland Chase) WINNIPESAUKEE L Vest a Sherman I nis year we came early to the log cabin at the lake by the mountains. June finds few campers — either the all-summer or two-week brand —started on their seasons, and I love it! People are grand, and 1 dearly love 'em. but it's a refreshing experience to have the place with its almost unearthly quietness, all for our very own.It’s the same sensation I get when we come up sometimes for a day or overnight in April. No one here but those beloved year round natives — (»od and the u c><>dland crea111res. Tonight the men are out fishing. The lake is that still, quiet water which is almost icelike in its unmotioning. Different every night, tonight it is the color of a huge abalone shell with its gray, green, and soft rosiness tinged all over with a pearly lustre. Soon the lights of the few other early folk will be popping on. In midsummer we often count twenty or more lights on the opposite shore — but tonight probably only one or two will show. Boat house doors — closed tightly since last September — tell us that as yet few families have come for their probably longed-for exposure to loveliness. Night after night, year after year all this loveliness is here - waiting to be taken by tired city bodies, and too world-commotionconscious minds. For myself, tho" I cannot come as early, often, or stay as late as I crave, the very knowingness that this is all here, majestic in its eternal steadfastness, creates and keeps in me a faith without which I could not live! .Veiv limn ft shirr Irnuhutlour 13Front Cover: Apple blossoms at Orford. Color photo l>v Winston Potc. Back Cover: Children at Randolph feed ins; shorn sheep, some of which have yokes to keep them from {joins; through the fence to where the “grass is greener.” Photo by Winston Pote. EPITAPH This masterpiece, sent to The I roubadour by Marion Fang Driscoll, is at New Boston: Nathan Emerson, died July 18, 18-H), aged 75 years. “The good die young.” New Hampshire Books and Authors That Darned Minister's Son (Doubleday and Company, Garden City, N. Y., S3) is by Haydn S. Pearson, an author who is well known to Troubadour readers. It is a collection of anecdotes. Mr. Pearson’s father was minister of a smalltown parish in New Hampshire, blended religion and farming, lifted the mortgage with his fine apples, and could compete with tlx1 best as a horse trader. Haydn himself had a love for small-bov pranks. The volume is a loving recollection of a bygone era. Open for the Season, by Karl P. Abbott, Doubleday & Co., Inc., Garden City, N. Y., S3. Reminiscences of a hotel man. A reviewer says: “This book simply bubbles with humor, good anecdotes, and dramatic incidents. ... It has enough New Hampshire common sense and courage to give you a breath of cleaner air.” ^stos' The voters at the town meeting held two months ago at Colebrook authorized the selectmen to make provision to stop the bell of the town clock between the hours of 10 p.m. and 7 a.m. Many attractive gardens throughout the state are open to visitors during the entire season. Persons wishing a list of them are invited to write to Mrs. Arthur Pennock, Littleton, who is chairman of visiting gardens for the New Hampshire Federation of Garden Clubs. The federation is making plans for Open House and Garden Week in New Hampshire August 7 12. On each day tea will be served at one of the houses or gardens, andhostesses will lie present to greet guests and describe interesting features of t lie home or garden. The series of tours is to be arranged so that anyone may visit all of the places which are to be opened. Proceeds will be for the Crotched Mountain planting project, the 1950 aim of which is to landscape the road leading to the site for the Cripple Children’s Hospital. On August 10 several of the houses in Exeter, including the famous Cincinnati House, the Folsom Tavern, the main building of Phillips F.xeter Academy, and a garden nearby, will be opened. Mrs. Foster Stearns will receive guests at her home. Headquarters of this tour will be the First Church, and refreshments will be served there. A Patent Model Museum is to be opened this summer on the country estate of Mr. and Mrs. O. Rundle Gilbert at Center Sandwich as a new center of interest in New Hampshire, July 1 to October 11. The museum is to contain three or four thousand of the more inter esting originals of working models of the period 1836-1890, when American inventors conjured up nearly every imaginable thing, ami many quite unimaginable. The Gilberts arc converting a large barn with two wings to house the large permanent collection and arranging features to interest the youngsters while their parents inspect and work the models, some of which have revolutionized our lives and some of which are useless, if ingenious, ideas. If your grandfather ever invented anything, chances arc his patent model is up in Center Sand- wich. These models trace the history of railroading, printing, farm machinery, and many other types of inventions; they are the visible evidence of 19th Century American ingenuity. New Hampshire's new toll road between New buryport. Massachusetts, and Kittery, Maine, is to be dedicated and opened for use on June 24. State Highway Commissioner Frank I). Merrill has announced that the rate for using this modern 15-mile high-speed artery will be 15 cents for passenger autos; varying rates for other vehicles.Voyager Returned L Bed ara ^Jernt Cit\ errij kj rimes The stillness of Spring Twilight in New Hampshire awakes emotion deep within my heart. Though other Springs in other lands held beauty, still here I have my roots and knew my start. The stillness of Spring Twilight in New Hampshire awakes remembrance known and loved before. My travels never could too firmly hold me: This is my home, my own familiar shore. MAY 5 WO 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 4677Troubadour195005 Title A name given to the resource The New Hampshire Troubadour May1950 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 1950-05 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. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource 16-page booklet 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, Harrisville, Orford 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 railroads, roads, gardens Type The nature or genre of the resource Text gardens Harrisville New Hampshire Orford railroads roads