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.