The Story of the Toys

by Mary Harris Toy Dodge

The months passed on, and life resumed its usual course, but the painful vacancy was sadly felt in the family. A housekeeper was obtained who did what she could to fill the dreadful void, and our faithful Lucinda remained at her post. But there was no real harmony, and the children began to show the need of a mother's care and love. In this dilemma my father's thoughts were turned, as was natural, towards some one who might fill the important place, and in February, 1849, he married Mrs. Sarah G. H. Merritt. She was the daughter of one of the old and excellent families of the town, and had been for years a friend of my father and mother, and belonged to the same church. She was married when quite young to Mr. James Merritt, a young man of much promise, and went with him to Spring Hill, Alabama, where they were both engaged in teaching. In little more than a year he died, leaving her a widow before the birth of her first child, which occurred soon after. Her adopted sister had married Mr. Rush Tuller, a merchant in good business at Spring Hill, and with them she found a home and all needed sympathy and help in this time of trial. She was a woman of strong character and most indomitable energy, and rising above her sorrow, she bravely set herself to the task of earning a support for herself and her child. She remained in her position as teacher till her son was old enough to be left, and then coming north she left him in the care of her mother and grandmother, and returned to take up her work. She was a woman of very attractive personality and pleasant manners, vivacious and entertaining in conversation, and though she had not been without opportunities to change her situation, she remained a widow about ten years. Such was the person whom my father brought to us as our new mother, and to make us happy again. There were no relatives to interfere or to make unpleasant comparisons, and we received her with love and confidence, gladly yielding to her the respect and obedience we had been accustomed to give to our own mother, and so the family life flowed on harmoniously. It was no light task she had undertaken, to train a family of five children, and she addressed herself to it with her accustomed energy and courage. She identified herself fully with the family, and made our interests her own. She endeavored faithfully to improve our manners, to teach us to have confidence in ourselves, and to develop the best that was in us, and in every way to promote the best interests of us all.

She brought with her as members of our family, her son, a boy of nine years, and her mother. It might have been a question whether the new elements would mingle harmoniously with the old, but in this case they certainly did. We were delighted with the idea of a new brother, and he and my brother Joseph, who was near his age, became and always continued real brothers in heart. They were devotedly attached to each other, and were inseparable till my brother's death. Her mother, Mrs. D. G. Humphrey, was a lady of refinement and intelligence. Though delicate in health and nervously weak, she bore with commendable patience the noise of children, and the rushing life of such a large family, which was a great contrast to the quietness of her former life. We rejoiced in the acquisition of a grandma, as we had no remembrance of our own. She was an honored member of our family for many years, and as many of her tastes and sentiments were similar to my own, we were much together and enjoyed each other's society.

The schools in our town were very unsatisfactory, and when I reached the age of fifteen it was thought that some better advantages should be given me. Accordingly, I was sent to Wilbraham Academy, one of the oldest and best schools under Methodist auspices in all that region. I was to room with my friend, Miss Mary Weston, of Simsbury, but as she was not quite ready when the term began, I had to begin my experience alone. I was taken by my father and mother in a carriage to Wilbraham, a distance of about thirty miles. I was full of anticipation, and all was well as long as they were with me, but I shall never forget the heart-sinking which overwhelmed me when they left me the next day. When I settled down at evening in my little bare room alone, I could not keep the tears from falling as I thought of the pleasant home circle, and heartily wished myself among them. The school buildings were in sharp contrast to the beautiful and nicely adapted appointments of most of the schools and colleges of to-day. They were plain to severity, and some of them showed marks of years of hard usage. The halls and rooms of our dormitory were uncarpeted. Each little room was furnished with a bed with dark chintz spread, a small study table, two wooden chairs, a little box stove for burning wood, and a triangular board fastened in the corner, with a white muslin curtain, for a wash-stand, with a small bookcase above it. These, with a small mirror, completed the furniture, and dreary enough it looked to me on that sad evening. But with the young, though "weeping may endure for a night, joy cometh in the morning," and as my room-mate soon came, and I began to be acquainted with the students and interested in my studies, I was very happy. The two years I spent there were among the happiest and most profitable of my life. My sister Susan joined me there the second year, and afterward my brother Joseph. He was also sent later to a school for boys in Norwich, Connecticut, and Susan afterwards attended a private school in Milford, Connecticut. My sisters Annie and Julia were educated in the Hartford schools. Annie also studied music at Music Vale Seminary, Connecticut. Brother James Merritt studied with a private tutor, Mr. T. G. Grassie, of Amherst College.

THE HOME ON CHESTNUT HILL

It was the wish of my father that Joseph should have a college education, but though he had a very bright mind, and was very literary in his tastes, and himself a good writer, his choice was strongly for a mechanical training. Accordingly, he was placed with the firm of Lincoln Bros. of Hartford to learn the business of a machinist, and afterwards worked with Woodruff & Beach of the same city. He became an expert in the business, and some of the finest work was entrusted to him.

I should mention here the birth of two other children who were most welcome additions to the family circle—George Bickford Davey, named for the business partners, who was born March 18, 1852, and Sarah Jennette, born October 26, 1857.

The year 1857 was one of severe financial crisis. Business of all kinds was almost at a stand-still, and hundreds of workmen were everywhere discharged. The younger men of course were the first to go, and both Joseph and James, being unemployed, resolved to set off for the West and take any chance that offered. After a short experience as farmers' help, they both obtained schools in Illinois. This, however, continued but a short time, as business revived, and Joseph came home and took a position as machinist in the factory. James remained West, and was with his uncle Humphrey's family in Quincy most of the time till he settled later on a farm of his own.

That year was also marked by deep and extensive religious interest, and both brothers became Christians during that year. So all of our family were united in their religious life, as in all other things. In December, 1859, a sad accident cast its dark shadow over us. My father's factory was destroyed by fire. It was about 8 A. M. My father was preparing to go to Hartford, and I was standing by him near a window, when suddenly a sheet of flame shot from beneath the eaves of the factory, lifting the roof, and instantly the wooden building was enveloped in flames. The alarm and excitement were intense. A crowd soon collected, and every effort was made to check the fire and to save those in danger. But the explosion had done its deadly work, and eight of the girls employed were instantly killed, while others were rescued with great difficulty and were badly burned. My brother Joseph, who was at that time employed in the machine department, found himself almost without warning buried beneath a mass of falling timbers, while flames and smoke poured in all about him. He managed to extricate himself, and made a brave dash for his life. Carrying the window with him, he plunged into the race-way of the water-wheel, and so escaped, though terribly burned. The sad occurrence shrouded the town in gloom. The funeral of the eight unfortunate girls was an event long to be remembered. The company did everything in its power to care for the sufferers, and to help the afflicted families, bearing all expenses and erecting a monument to the dead.

My brother lingered through months of terrible suffering. For some time his life was despaired of, but at last, by the blessing of God on the efforts of the most skilful physicians, and with good nursing, he slowly recovered. His nervous system, however, had received a shock from which he never fully recovered. As mother was not at all well at that time, most of the day nursing fell to me, while kind friends freely offered their services for the nights. It was a long and trying experience and was followed for me with quite a serious illness, but I always rejoiced in the privilege of ministering to him in this time of greatest need.