The old fashioned tinman’s trade which flourished in Mr. Goodwin’s day when all the tinware in use was made in the local shops, has practically disappeared, leaving only the manufacture of hot air furnace pipes to remind us of the resonant clatter of a tinshop once so familiar to the ear. Mr. Goodwin was born in 1779, and was the son of Timothy Goodwin, who came from Charlestown and married Lucy, daughter of Abiel Shurtleff of Plymouth. His father, who was associated with the earliest postal system of Plymouth, deserves a passing notice. Up to 1775 no post office had ever been established in Plymouth, and at that time there were only seventy-five post offices in the colonies, and eighteen hundred and seventy-five miles of post routes. In the above year Benjamin Franklin was appointed Postmaster General, and on the 12th of May William Watson was appointed postmaster of Plymouth, and in 1790 was commissioned by Washington. On the appointment of Mr. Watson in 1775, a horseback mail route was established from Cambridge to Falmouth, through Plymouth, and Timothy Goodwin and Joseph Howland were appointed post riders, making the trip down and back once in each week. They left Cambridge Monday noon, and arrived at Plymouth at four o’clock, Tuesday afternoon; and leaving Plymouth at nine o’clock Wednesday morning, reached Sandwich at four o’clock on that day, and Falmouth at eight o’clock Thursday morning. Goodwin and Howland divided the route, making the exchange at Plymouth.
Until 1816 the rate of postage remained unchanged as follows: for a single letter under forty miles, eight cents; under ninety miles, ten cents; under one hundred and fifty miles, twelve and a half cents; under three hundred miles, seventeen cents; under five hundred miles, twenty cents; over five hundred miles, twenty-five cents. In 1816 the rate was fixed for a single letter not over thirty miles, six and a quarter cents, over thirty miles and under eighty, ten cents; over eighty and under one hundred and fifty, twelve and a half cents; over one hundred and fifty, and under four hundred, eighteen and three quarters cents; over four hundred, twenty-five cents, with an added rate for every additional piece of paper, and if the letter weighed an ounce, the rate was four times the above. The newspaper rate fixed at the same time was one cent under one hundred miles, or within the state; over one hundred miles, and out of the state, one and a half cents, magazines and pamphlets one and a half cent a sheet under one hundred miles, if periodicals, two and a half cents a sheet over one hundred miles, but if not prepaid, four and five cents.
The above was the rate of the postage during my youth, and until I was twenty-three years of age, when gradual reductions began to be made, the result of which has been the postal rates as they stand today. The rates above mentioned indicate the kind of currency prevailing at the time. Articles on sale were priced at so many cents, or a four-pence happenny (six and a quarter cents), nine pence (twelve and a half cents,) a shilling (sixteen and two-thirds cents) a quarter of a dollar, two and three pence (thirty-seven and a half cents) a half a dollar, three and nine pence (or sixty-two and a half cents) four and six pence (or seventy-five cents) and so on to a dollar. Finally Mexican coins were eliminated from our currency, and the genuine American decimal coinage exclusively prevailed. Until the year 1855, prepayment was optional, but with the introduction of postage stamps, prepayment was required, and when after the establishment of expresses, it was found that they engaged in the carriage of letters the practice was forbidden unless the letters were stamped. If under the old system letters were not prepaid, it was by no means unusual for persons to whom they were addressed, to refuse to receive them and pay the high postage due. It goes without saying that persons known to be going to Boston or New York were pretty well loaded, as I have often been with letters to be delivered not only to friends, but also to men in business.
If cheap postage is a blessing, it may be doubted whether it is an unalloyed one. As one of its penalties, letter writing has become a lost art. A three-line note or a postal card, or what is worse, a dictation by a stenographer from which the last vestige of communion of friend with friend is completely extinguished, has taken the place of the welcome epistles which our grandmothers and aunts wrote with care, and filled full not only with gossip and family news, but also with instructive comments on events of the day. How much future readers will lose by the absence of such volumes of correspondence as have graced our literature during the last hundred years!
In connection with letters it may be well enough to say for the benefit of my young readers that until 1840 envelopes were unknown, and letters were universally folded and sealed either with sealing wax or wafers.
There was an expression of deliberation and composure investing such correspondence which is lost in the correspondence of today. Now and then some impecunious person found sealing wax and even wafers unnecessarily extravagant. I was told many years ago by a man who called on the late Joshua Sears who left his millions to a son, recently deceased, that he found him splitting wafers. Since the days of envelopes I have known an officer of one of our institutions to save all his letters, and turn the envelopes for future use.
CHAPTER XX.
William Watson, the first postmaster of Plymouth, was the son of John and Priscilla (Thomas) Watson, and was born in Plymouth, May 6, 1730, and graduated at Harvard in 1751. In addition to the office of postmaster, he was appointed in 1782 naval officer for the port of Plymouth, and in 1789 he was commissioned collector by Washington. In 1803 he was removed by Jefferson from both the office of postmaster and collector, and died April 22, 1815. In 1765 he bought the lot of land in Court street, on which the Old Colony Club house stands, and there can be no doubt that he built the house now standing, and occupied it until his death. After the death of Mr. Watson, the estate was bought by my grandfather, William Davis, and occupied by my uncle, Nathaniel Morton Davis from the time of his marriage in 1817 until his death, when its occupancy passed to his son, Col. Wm. Davis.
The story of the life of the mother of Wm. Watson is full of romantic interest. She was Priscilla Thomas, a daughter of Caleb and Priscilla (Capen) Thomas of Marshfield. She became engaged to Noah Hobart, a divinity student, who was at the time teaching school in Duxbury. John Watson of Plymouth, who had married in 1715, Sarah, daughter of Daniel Rogers of Ipswich, lost his wife, and not knowing of the engagement of Miss Thomas, made through her father, an offer of marriage. As Mr. Watson was a man of high standing and abundant means, Mr. Thomas was favorably impressed by the offer, and said that he would consult his wife and daughter. A family council was held, into which Mr. Hobart was called, and it was finally decided with the assent of Mr. Hobart, who was ready to make any sacrifice to secure a happy establishment for life for one whom he sincerely loved, to accept Mr. Watson’s offer. Thus with a tearful parting two loving hearts were separated apparently forever. In 1729 John Watson and Priscilla Thomas were married, and the first act of a new romance of John and Priscilla was performed. In 1732 Mr. Watson died, and at that time his son, Elkanah, was a nursing infant. At about the same time the wife of Isaac Lothrop died, leaving also a nursing infant. As the families were intimate, Mrs. Watson offered to nurse Mrs. Lothrop’s infant with her own. The natural consequence of the family relations was an offer of marriage from Mr. Lothrop, which was unhesitatingly accepted. The alliance was an eligible one. Mr. Lothrop was one of the Justices of the Court, and was possessed of a large estate. The marriage took place in 1733, and he died April 26, 1750, having by a life illustrating the highest qualities of the human character deserved the following inscription on his gravestone:
“Had virtue’s charms the power to save