A while back, Ted Spaulding gave me a book written by Richard Whitcomb of Springfield, titled “Rambling Reminiscences.” I just got around to reading it.
Here’s a little history from the title page.
“Richard Whitcomb was born in Spencer Hollow, Springfield, Vt., on April 21, 1911, and grew up there on the home farm. He graduated from Springfield High School and the University of Massachusetts. He had a dairy and poultry operation until 1971 when his wife Ethel Bishop died. He sold the farm to his daughter Ann and her husband Len Germain. Richard remarried and lives in Perkinsville in the Pink House with his wife, formerly Doris Stapleton.
“Gardening and woodworking have been his hobbies, and he has kept a keen interest in Springfield. The Springfield Reporter has used the many articles that follow.”
Ashley’s Ferry
“As a 9-year-old boy I rode with my father from our farm home in Spencer Hollow up toward Eureka and down the old Ferry road to Weathersfield Bow, a distance of perhaps three miles. Then on down past good meadow land to Oliver Ashley Ferry carrying a wagon load of apples to be pressed for cider by the man who lived across the river and operated a cider mill and the ferry. (The one and only time I ever rode on the ferry boat.)
“This Ferry was commissioned in 1784 and operated for 143 years, being destroyed at the time of the 1927 flood. It was the main route from Springfield to Claremont along with the ferries at Charlestown and Ascutney, so the ferryman must have kept busy.
“The ferry was secured by two sets of cable and pulleys to a steel cable which crossed the river and was fastened to a tree on the Vermont side and to the ferryman’s house on the New Hampshire side. The boat could be angled by adjusting the cables so the river current propelled it across and the angle was reversed on the return trip. A gate at either end of the ferry kept the two or three wagons safe on board.
“On one occasion a horse panicked and backed the wagon and travelers off the boat, but all survived. The ferry must have been a seasonal convenience. In the winter they must have crossed on ice.
“Dr. Bernard Taylor, a local dentist and good story teller, lived with his parents on the Hubbard Farm in Eureka (the big brick house) and farmed there for some years. At the time farmers shipped cream to Boston. Bernard and brother Ivan transported theirs and some of the neighbors’ with a team and wagon to Claremont Junction where it was put on freight cars about a mile beyond the ferry landing.
“They probably took turns driving, but Bernard did the heavy lifting all the heavy cans of cream into the freight cars. They had an old dog that always went along with them traveling at will and wandering off looking for woodchucks. On one trip he wandered quite a distance from the wagon presumably having good luck hunting and by the time he arrived at the landing he found the ferry had left!
“So what to do but swim across which he did, but because of the river current he landed downstream quite a distance. According to Bernard, the next time the dog was late he traveled upstream in the meadow before crossing and reached the New Hampshire side just where he should at the landing! Smart dog! And I bet he was smart enough to hitch a ride home in the wagon at least part of the way.”
This week’s old saying is from my mother. “There is nothing you can do that hasn’t been done before.”