Halfway Brook

Halfway Brook Becomes Eldred
On February 12, 1873 Halfway Brook Village, where Emma Austin’s family lived, was renamed “Eldred,” in honor of Postmaster C.C.P. Eldred or his father James Eldred.
—The Mill on Halfway Brook, p. 172.

Albany Normal
In March 1873 Emma started Term 3 at Albany Normal. She had missed term 2 due to her health. Chester, in Walton, wrote to her in June.

June 1, 1873
Friend Emma,
Not having heard from anyone in your vicinity in a long time I guess I will have to renew our correspondence or lose every trace of little affections nourished in the wilds of Sullivan.

It would give me much pleasure to make you a visit such a pleasant morning as this when everything seems so happy. How, oh how, I could enjoy a ramble with you at this season of the year when the verdant meadows and pastures green, the dark wood, clothed in beauty of foliage, the soft sweet breeze and the deep blue sky all admit of nature’s change.

But there is no need of my talking about coming there at present. Time won’t permit. I heard that you was attending school at Albany about one year ago.

Since I left your place I have taught school every winter and only one summer the remainder of my time being spent in farming at home. Continue reading →

Along with describing her disgust at their schoolhouse, Emma’s April 1872 letters to her mother included her love of writing poetry.

Mr. Lindsley was one of the school teachers. Rebecca Eldred (age 30 in 1872) was Emma’s cousin. Chester asked about “Beck” in a couple of his letters.

Emma, Albany Normal, to Her Mother, April 7, 1872
My Dear Mother,
I was very sorry to…hear that Mr. Lindsley had lost his speech. I do not believe he will ever get over the effects of his winter’s teaching in Halfway Brook (which we call Lumberland). That schoolhouse is enough to kill anyone and ought to be burned down…

…I have been drawing maps and studying rules and explanations all day…I might better spend it in writing poetry, do not you think so?

…I suppose school will soon commence in the Village. Tell me the teacher’s name as soon as you know. I am interested to know if Beck takes it. Do you ever hear from Mr. Lindsley any more?
With best love to all, I remain, Ever your aff. Edith

Emma to Her Mother, May 19, 1872
My Dear Mother,
…I received a letter from Mary Darling last week. She thinks Maria Tassaskmass ought to take the village school and board at Sergeant’s…With love to all, and especially my mother, I am as ever, E.E.A.

Emma to Her Mother, December 29, 1872
Emma stayed in Albany over Christmas and hoped to visit home in January.

My dear Mother,
…I am so tired; and I cannot rest anywhere except at home…So Bea has taken the school again. That old building ought to be burned down. It is a perfect shame to have school in such a place…Ever your aff. Emma
—The Mill on Halfway Brook, pp. 165–172. Continue reading →

In February 1872 Emma Austin, age 21, began her first year at Albany Normal School. She rented a furnished room for a dollar a week. Emma commented on her health, classes, classmates, and places she visited in the many letters she exchanged with her parents.

In the following March 1872 letter to her mother, Emma compared Monticello Academy to Albany Normal; and had some harsh words to say regarding the schooling where she grew up. Apparently, she is waiting for Chester (Mr. B.) to write first.

Emma, Albany to Her Mother, March 1872
My dear Mother,
…I think this school is very good for those who intend to teach. But I think we could learn more in one year at Monticello Academy, than one can here in two. I am going over now what ought to have been taught me at school just as soon as I commenced studying—grammar, geography, arithmetic, etc.

I don’t believe a fourth of the teachers in Sullivan County or any other county for that matter, are qualified to teach…

I wish Mr. B. had sent a valentine or something so I could have written. It would seem kind of good to hear from him again. Please burn this letter won’t you. I am almost afraid to send this information for fear you will not get it. Emma —The Mill on Halfway Brook, p. 162–3.

Composition Corrections, March 1872
Mary Ann taught Emma’s sister Aida, age eleven, at home. In another March 1872 letter to her mother, Emma wrote corrections to Aida’s composition. Continue reading →

In the following letter to her father, Emma mentioned that Julia Kyte died (January 15, 1872). Julia, not yet 20, was the wife of William Kyte, son of Felix Kyte, the Congregational Church pastor. Chester asked about Will Kyte and Julia in his October 29, 1869 letter.

Emma, to her father Henry Austin, NYC, January 1872
Dear Father,
I was home a little while yesterday. Mother told me she had received a letter from you. They are all well at home.

Mort (her brother) is getting better. He insisted about every day on going to the barn. He says he is well enough and doesn’t know what the cows must think of his staying away so long…

Julia Kyte died Monday night and is to be buried Thursday. I hear Mr. Webber is to preach the funeral sermon. It seems dreadful to think of it, it is so sudden. But very few heard of her sickness till the news of her death reached them. She was sick only one day.

Dr. DeVenoge and Dobron were both called, but human aid was powerless to save her from the grasp of the Destroyer. Truly “in the middle of life we are in death” and ought at all times to be prepared for his coming.

I would write more, but I have no room and I fear you will hardly be able to read what I have written, but my excuse for poor writing is as usual, a poor pen and I might also be a poor writer.

Give my love to all my friends there…I am very busy just now and have very little time for writing.

With love to my father and best wishes for his temporal and eternal happiness. I remain as ever his aff. daughter, Edith E. A. Continue reading →

Chester was teaching in Deposit, New York, when he wrote Emma in 1871, month unknown.

Deposit, New York, 12th, 1871
Friend Emma,
Not having heard from you in a long time and thinking you could not have rec’d my last letter, yet you may have received it and forgotten (either intentionally or not) in which case I take pleasure in writing again.

I know that you are well aware that I cannot write anything of interest to anyone and thus it is with these few lines. I have learned from some of your neighbors that you were teaching school at intervals but the most of your time was employed in writing poetry for the Watchman.

But coming more directly to my subject I will have to inquire
After Billy Barker To know if he is well
And keeps that love for you Which he will never sell

Or does some other chap Walk in poor Billy’s shoes
Please write and tell me soon About this kind of news.

I’m teaching school just now Up in Deposit town
Now when my turn is done I think of coming down.

My friends I know are few And far apart may be
And thus it pleasure gives Those friends sometimes to see

I s’pose you’ll be at home For aught that you can tell
I’d like to visit you. I’d like it very well.

Then you must tell me all the news and furthermore
Please do not angry get At what I’ve said before.

I bid you now good bye Give my respects to all
And write when time you have, I’ll sometime on you call.

Yours truly, Chester Beers
P.S. in the dark—write soon. Continue reading →

Walton, July 1870
Friend Emma,
The shades of night they close around and the heated rays of the sun are seen no more.

I am seated not within your Father’s house to spend an hour with you in social chat, but far from there in Walton town.

Domestic pleasure reigns supreme. Now and then the lightning’s flash light up the heavens above and the thunder drum of heaven beats steadily along. Alone I am within my room. My lamp gives light to guide my pen. My thoughts go back where I have been.

It has been very dry and hot here, a splendid time for gathering crops of hay…As to wealth and beauty they are of little consequence. “Riches take to themselves wings and fly away” and the prettiest flower “it soon will fade.”
I’ll say with the poet: “The richest thing that one can find is to have a contented mind.”

In regard to that picture I shall do just as I agreed. You send me a better one and you shall have this one again. I don’t know as I am to let you judge the quality of the picture either.

If I change with you, it will be the third change I have made within a short time. I think this one just suits me. I never get tired of talking or writing for I never talk or write enough to get weary.
Write soon, Chester Beers

The Austins, End of 1870
One of Emma’s poems was published in Moses Dow’s, Waverly Magazine.

Sadly, in December 1870 the youngest Austin, Randolph, died. Not yet two years old, Randolph was their second child to die. Continue reading →

Emma must have been sick when Chester visited Lumberland in early June of 1870.

He wrote a poem on his return. Highland Lake was still called Hagan’s Pond.

Walton, N.Y.
June 19, 1870
Friend Emma,
Again at home.
The morning sun
Upon his daily course is seen
Which shines for other worlds I s’pose,
I wonder if they’re cloth’d in green?

One week ago fair Hagan’s pool
In splendor stood before my view
One week ago one hundred miles
From home, within some village pew.

Familiar faces there I saw.
The pastor in the pulpit stood
And talk’d of those early settlers
Who sought a wilderness—the wood.

Their sufferings he talk’d about,
And why they came from other lands…

I left on Monday past as you are well aware and after experiencing a pleasant ride reached home on Tuesday, all in time for the reading circle which I occasionally attend. Stayed of course all night in Deposit where I did not fail to enjoy myself.

Thinking it all over, my visit was a pleasant one and I am almost resolved to try it over again and do as I have done this time, that is make you twice glad or at least once upon leaving. And of course for taking of the pleasure being somewhat attached to that little word home, I suppose you are all over your illness by this time are you not? Continue reading →

Walton, New York, Apr. 21, 1870
Friend Emma,
Your last came in due time which I read with pleasure.

Yet with all the pleasure I felt very much grieved to think that you forgot the likeness; but not so much so as I would have been had I not been sure you would send it the next time. I want one of those pictures with the most open hair curled, etc. I don’t care if it is done up in papers.

But when you get so that you can shut your mouth perfectly then I am coming out to see you and stay longer than I did the last time I was there, too. I think I could enjoy a visit with you as well as with any other nymph of Lumberland—with few exceptions too numerous to mention…

Write soon. Yours, Chester Beers.
P.S. If you chance to get this April 20th let me know about it.

Walton, New York, April 24, 1870
Friend Emma,
Your last came in due time which took me from five to ten minutes to read…I see you have commenced teaching which I think you will not find to be an easy task either…

Sugaring is past and I am at work on a farm as usual…Where is Hina going to teach this summer? Also who teaches in the Village? Don’t know when I shall be in Lumberland but probably some time when you think not.

I can send a recommend if desired—but I can not see how it can be necessary and at the most will be of little account…You had better go before the Commissioner and let him question you a little—that is all the recommendation you need. Don’t be so timid. Continue reading →

Walton, New York, February 28, 1870

Friend Emma,
Your last came all right which I read with as much pleasure as could have been expected under the circumstances…

My school closed the 25th of February and now I feel very much relieved, though I have had a very pleasant school this winter. It has been rather small compared with that of last winter as I have had only about one fourth the number of scholars, yet they came much more regular.

It looks very much like sleighing at present, a rare thing this winter. But the winter with its joys has nearly gone and the spring finds me as busily engaged in farming as ever.

About the first thing I shall have to do will be to prepare for sugaring, as that necessarily comes along in the order of my business before long, yet it is not very pleasant work taking it all into consideration.

I have been thinking whether I could find a convenient time to come to Lumberland or not before long.

I suppose you have had everything your own way at school this winter have you not? How large a school do you have? Continue reading →

On January 9, 1870 Addie Austin wrote to her cousin Emma. Emma did not get the school she was hoping for and had stated that she would die an old maid. It would be interesting to know if this related to Emma’s “friendship” with Chester.

New York, Addie to Emma
January 9, 1870
My Dear Cousin Emma, Uncle Henry (Emma’s father) tells me that you were disappointed in not getting your school.
I am sorry, but if you are successful in
getting one in the spring, I should not care very much about teaching this winter. I think they treated you very mean though about
it. I doubt very much you are dying an old maid… Addie
—The Mill on Halfway Brook, p. 149.

Emma Austin wrote “Mrs. Prindle’s Soliloquy,” a poem which compared the lives of two sisters, one married and the other unmarried.

Mrs. Prindle married because she was afraid of living and dying “an old, old maid.” Her sister Sally, “the happiest soul alive,” had no annoying husband or quarrelsome children. Sally was not “afraid of living or dying an old, old maid,” and teased her married sister.—Abby, Laurilla, and Mary Ann, p. 243.

Mrs. Prindle’s Soliloquy
It kind-o-seems to me tonight
While darning these stocking by candlelight
That I ain’t quite the woman I used to be,
Since I let old Prindle marry me,
Because I was so much afraid
Of living, and dying an old, old maid.

I always used to dress so neat;
My hair was smooth, my temper sweet,
I have learned to be cold, seldom brush my hair,
And don’t care a pin about what I wear.
And wonder that ever I was afraid
Of living and dying an old, old maid. Continue reading →