Halfway Brook

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 →

In 1870 Pond Eddy and Barryville and Halfway Brook each had a school.

New York State was home to 4,370,846, people. Lumberland: 1,065 townsfolk. Highland township: 958 townsfolk; 260 lived in Barryville.

Halfway Brook Village included the post office at C.C.P. Eldred’s house, a sawmill on Halfway Brook near C.C.P. Eldred’s house, two stores, a hotel, a school, and two churches—Congregational and Methodist.

Charles C.P. Eldred, a farmer, and his wife Effa (Emma’s uncle and aunt) lived near Halfway Brook and west of the Austin family). Their daughters daughter Sarah Jane, 18, and Becca, 27, a teacher were mentioned in Chester’s letters.

Their son George W. Eldred (also mentioned in one of Chester’s letters) and his family had moved to New York City, where George worked as a carpenter.

In 1870 Emma Austin’s family lived in the triangle created with Collins Road on the east—possibly 260 acres. Emma, a teacher, lived at home with her eight siblings, ages 1 to 19: Henrietta, Maria, James Eldred (Ell), Alonzo (Lon), Aida, Charles Mortimer, Henry Ladore, and Randolph. Her father Henry Austin, 46, a farmer, worked in New York City part of the year. Emma’s mother Mary Ann, 43, kept house and was busy with their nine children.

Hagan Pond
Chester mentions Hagan Pond, now Highland Lake, in one of his letters.

Martin D. and Jane Ann Myers lived near the corner where Hagan Pond and Collins Roads met. Chester mentioned their daughter Maria Myers, who was 16, in 1870.—Excerpted from The Mill on Halfway Brook, p. 146.

Previous Posts
1. Is that the New Teacher?
2. The Math Tutor
3. Chester Beers to Friend Emma, Correspondence Continues
4. What is the News? October 29, 1869
5. The Merry Laugh of the Village School
6. Teaching Advice in a Poem
7. I Would Not Wait for Erie’s Train

Chester’s December 31, 1869 letter continues
I wish you a happy New Year

’Tis New Year’s day my thoughts go back
To Lumberland’s unbeaten track.
If I could go where doth my mind
Or even as the listless rime?

At Halfway Brook I’d be again,
I would not wait for Erie’s train
Nor in a coach I would not ride
But o’er the hills, I’d make a stride.

But as it is I cannot tell
When I shall see your village dell.
It may be years yet only one
It may be when my school is done.

Now when you write give all the news.
Write anything that you may choose.
About the boys about the girls
And if you wish about your curls.

That picture which you saw is gone
But then I have another one.
I send it forth. It may suffice,
View it with care, don’t harm your eyes.

The artist’s done his best I think
He said that I might gently wink
And on a piece of tin he drew
The likeness which I send to you.

Yours etc.

Image: Erie RR at Susquehanna River and Owego Narrows, N.Y. Glass Negative, Detroit Publishing Co., 1900. Library of Congress Prints and Photographs Division: 4a07757.

Previous Posts
1. Is that the New Teacher?
2. The Math Tutor
3. Chester Beers to Friend Emma, Correspondence Continues
4. What is the News? October 29, 1869
5. The Merry Laugh of the Village School
6. Teaching Advice in a Poem

Did Emma ask for teaching advice? In this next letter Chester answers her last letter with a poem. Who is Billy B.? I wonder if he is a made up person.

Walton December 31, 1869
Friend Emma,
Your note I got in course of time
I’ll try and answer it in rhyme
I’m teaching as I said before
Five weeks I’ve taught and even more.

First you wished my love to share
(I’ve seen of course your curly hair)
I crown’d your wishes with success
Then all you’d have and nothing less.

Of Etiquette you next complain
Then say you’ll ask it not again.
My letters then someone may see
Are you afraid of Billy B.++++?

You say you had to do my will
That is, the laws of school fulfill
And write of course a composition
Against your will and disposition.

Now in teaching if e’er you do,
Remember this tis ever true
If one breaks o’er the laws you make
That liberty they all will take.

You need not tell me how you’ve done
In time that’s past, with teachers gone
I judge by this ’tis true you’ll find
“As the twig is bent the tree’s inclined.”

I’ve said enough, I’ll close this strain.
I hope I’ve given you no pain.
But never let your pupils rule
If order you’d maintain in school.

Previous Posts
1. Is that the New Teacher?
2. The Math Tutor
3. Chester Beers to Friend Emma, Correspondence Continues
4. What is the News? October 29, 1869
5. The Merry Laugh of the Village School