“April ye 19, 1775. This morning about seven o’clock we had a larum that the Regulars were gone to Concord. We gathered to the meeting house, and then started for Concord. We went through Tewksbury into Billerica. We stopped at Pollard’s, and ate some biscuits and cheese on the common. We started and went on to Bedford, and we heard that the Regulars had gone back to Boston. So we went through Bedford. As we went into Lexington we went to the meeting house, and there we came to the destruction of the Regulars. They killed eight of our men, and shot a cannon ball through the meeting house. We went along through Lexington, and we saw several Regulars dead on the road, and some of our men, and three or four houses were burnt, and some horses and hogs were killed. They plundered in every house they could get into. They stove in windows and broke in tops of desks. We met the men a coming back very fast,” etc.
Jonathan’s fourth son was Isaac, born in 1785. On reaching manhood he went before the mast on a voyage to China, and brought back, as a gift to his mother, a beautiful china tea-set. After his return from sea he went to Andover, Maine, to settle upon the lands bestowed by his father upon himself and brothers, Jonathan and James.
With characteristic energy, Isaac Stevens set to work clearing his land, and reducing rebellious nature to orderly submission. While thus at work in the woods one day, a heavy tree fell upon and crushed him to the earth; his left leg was terribly mangled, the bones broken in two places, and he received other serious injuries. The doctors insisted that the leg must be taken off in order to save his life, but Isaac Stevens with inflexible resolution refused to allow the amputation, and after a long, painful illness finally recovered. The limb, however, in the process of healing, became materially shorter and permanently stiffened, so that he was unable to bend the knee joint, and during the remainder of his life the wound broke out afresh periodically, and caused him great suffering. As soon as he was sufficiently recovered to bear the journey, he returned to his native Andover, where, under his mother’s careful nursing, he slowly recovered from the terrible injuries he had received.
It was at this time that he formed an attachment with Hannah Cummings, the daughter of a sterling farmer family like his own, and who united to a warm and affectionate heart, noble and elevated sentiments, strong good sense, and untiring industry. Their marriage followed soon after, on the 29th of September, 1814. He now relinquished the project of settling in Maine, and hired an old farmhouse with some twenty acres of land of Mr. Bridges. This house, one of the oldest in Andover, is situated at the end of Marble Ridge, a short distance south of the Great Pond, and at the point where the road from the village to Haverhill, after crossing the Essex Railroad, forks, the left branch leading on to Haverhill, while the other turns short to the right and conducts to Marble Ridge Station. The solid timbers and stockaded sides of the rear part of this old house—for the front is a later structure—were the mute witnesses of a stratagem in early Indian troubles as novel as it proved successful. The stout-hearted farmer settler was alone, with his wife and little ones about him, one night, when he discovered a large party of savages stealthily approaching, and spreading out so as to encompass his house. Hastily barricading the doors, he seized his trumpet, which he bore as trumpeter of the military company of the settlement, stole unperceived out of the house, caught and mounted his horse, and, making a circuit through the fields, gained the high road between the Indians and the village. Then, putting spurs to his steed, and pealing blast upon blast from his trumpet, he charged furiously down upon the Indians, now in the very act of assailing his domicile, who, thinking no doubt that the whole force of the country-side was upon them, incontinently fled into the forest.
Judged by the standard of these days, the young couple had an unpromising future. They were very poor, the husband a cripple, and they held as tenants a few barren acres from which to extract a livelihood. But Isaac Stevens now toiled early and late with untiring energy; he saved at every point, and turned everything to account with true Yankee thrift. He built a malt-house, and after laboring on the farm from earliest dawn until dark, would work at preparing the malt until late in the evening. His farm embraced a large meadow lying on both sides of the Cochichewick, just below where it issued from the Great Pond, but now flooded by the milldams still lower down, where he cut vast quantities of meadow hay, with which he filled his barns and fed a goodly number of horned stock during the long, rigorous winters, realizing thereby a handsome profit in the spring. His young wife joined her efforts to his, and frequently cut and made clothing for the neighbors around, in addition to the unceasing and arduous labors of a farmer’s wife. Such thrift and industry could not fail of success. The Bridges house and land were purchased, largely on mortgage at first; then the wet meadow was added; then a goodly tract of generous land was bought of the father, Jonathan Stevens, and other fields and tracts were added from time to time. During the thirteen years following their marriage, the first scanty holding grew to a farm of one hundred and fifty acres of their own, and free from debt. Seven children, too, came to bless their union and increase their cares. Then the devoted wife and mother died, November 3, 1827, leaving this helpless little flock, the oldest of whom was but twelve and the youngest two years of age. Henceforth life was a heavy and unceasing labor to Isaac Stevens. The little farm grew no larger, and all his efforts were now required to maintain his family and keep free from debt. Two years afterwards he married Ann Poor, of North Andover, impelled by his situation and circumstances, with so many helpless children about him and the household economy of the farm unprovided for. The second wife failed to restore the happiness of home. She had no children, and died in 1866, four years after her husband.
Isaac Stevens was a man of deeply marked and noble characteristics. His fortitude was severely tested by the misfortune which left him a lifelong cripple. His cool courage and inflexible resolution are best illustrated by his manner of dealing with a dangerous bull he once owned. This animal grew daily more and more savage, until every one stood in fear of it except the owner, who, as often happens in such cases, persisted in thinking it quite harmless. At length, however, the bull one day chased a neighbor, who had imprudently ventured to cross the field in which it pastured, and overtaking him just as he reached the fence, tossed him high in air, so that falling fortunately on the farther side of the inclosure, he escaped with no more serious injuries than some severe bruises and a broken nose. The bull, furious at the escape of his prey, was bellowing and pawing the ground. “The bull must be shot!” cried the man who helped off the injured neighbor. But Isaac Stevens at once armed himself with a stout cudgel, coolly hobbled into the field, disregarding all remonstrances and entreaties, fixed his eye upon the enraged beast, backed him into a narrow corner where he could not escape, and thrashed him over the head with the club with such terrible severity that he was completely subdued, and ever after remained perfectly gentle and submissive.
Always strictly observing the Sabbath, he held liberal views of religion and attended the Unitarian Church. He kept himself informed of the current events of the day, taking the New York “Tribune” and Garrison’s “Liberator,” and manifesting the greatest interest in education, temperance, anti-slavery, and every cause that would make mankind better or happier. “How he denied himself all comforts almost, and quietly sent money to free the slave and for the temperance cause! He was a strong pillar of the foundation principles of right and justice that it would be well for young men of this day to study,” said one who knew him well.
He was, above all, a man of perfect integrity and truth, and of a strict sense of justice. There was not a fibre of guile or indirection in his moral nature. He held strong and ardent convictions, noble and lofty ideals of duty and philanthropy, and an intense hatred and scorn of wrong or oppression in any form. He strongly opposed and denounced the use of liquors and tobacco, and became early in life a vehement and outspoken abolitionist of slavery, at a period when the advocacy of such doctrines demanded unusual moral courage as well as stern conviction of right. At his decease, years afterwards, he bequeathed five hundred dollars to the Anti-Slavery Society, requiring only that Wendell Phillips should deliver a lecture in the parish church of North Andover.
The untiring industry which, with his frugality and good management, enabled him to achieve comparative independence so early in life, was not the course of a drudge and miser, but of an ardent, resolute spirit spurning poverty, debt, and dependence. All through life he manifested an unconquerable aversion to debt. He loved a fast horse, and the old mare which he kept until she died, over twenty-seven years old, was, in her prime, the fastest in the town. After reading a newspaper or book, he was in the habit of giving it to a neighbor, telling him to hand it to another after perusing it. He took great pains with his orchards, and planted apple-trees along the stone walls bordering his fields. He also planted the noble elms now overhanging the old farmhouse, and the long lines of this graceful tree now bordering the road from the house to the crest of the hill overlooking the village and the road over Marble Ridge, and the numerous clumps and rows in his fields wherever a sightly eminence seemed to require such an adornment.
His children were:—