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Mrs. George Andrews, a sprig tiy lady of eighty two,
lives in an old, but neatly painted house of the salt box
type on South Road, Northfield. A city dweller, accustomed
to cramped rooms and small apartments, would be struck im-
mediately by the spaciousness of these old homes, built quite
evidently for large families, but occupied in these times
often by elderly couples who shut off the old fashioned living
rooms in winter, live in the kitchen until bedtime, and then
retire to cold bedrooms; or shared in some instances with
another family who live in upper rooms made as comfortable as
possible with a minimum of expense.
Mrs. Andrews' home conforms to type, except that she
seems to occupy it completely alone, for her husband has, in
village phraseology, some of his reward, and there is no ev-
idence of anyone to help the old lady with household tasks.
She is exceedingly deaf, and uses an old fashioned ear trumpet,
which is cumbersome, but which she manipulates with surprising
dexterity. She has, she confesses, been engaged in a bit of
writing herself --the genealogy of the Andrews family.
"And besides that I've been helping Mr. Huniston with the
Northfield scrapbooks. I'm working on the last one now. Have
you been to see Mr. Humiston? I'm sure he'd let you see them,
if you called some day when he had plenty of time. He keeps
them locked up, you see. Says they're too valuable for handling
by the general public. They were left to the library by Mr.
Wooster, and we've been adding to them ever since, so that they
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contain a complete history of the village, right down to the
present.
"The Pecks? Well, I knew Howard and Henry, of course, and
Will, and the sister, but if you want anything about the old man,
you'll have to find somebody who's been here longer than mm.
You see I've only lived in Northfield since the blizzard. Yes,
the blizzard of eighty-eight. That was the year we came here.
We were married in eighteen eighty, my husband and I, and lived
in Danbury for eight years, and then we came here. Mr. Andrews
bought this property.
"Old Mr. Peck was dead when we came here. My husband was a
native of Northfield, and I've often heard him talk about the
old man. He was what they called a "cold water" man. That's
what they called temperance people in those days. I remember
the mill, of course, and the Peek brothers. I think I've got a
poem by Howard around here somewhere. You just take a look
through this scrapbook and I'll see if I can find the poem.
There may be something here you'd like to see."
Mrs. Andrews hands me the book, +hick volumItwith clip-
pings neatly pasted on heavy gray paper. Most of them have
been taken from the feature section of the Waterbury Sunday
paper, but a considerable number are out of the Thomaston Ex-
press, a weekly. Even columns of "briefs)' those personal items
dear to the heart of the rural dweller, have been culled from
weekly and daily papers and methodically pasted in the book,
and there are scores of obituaries all dated heavily in ink.
Many of the items are printed under the name of James
Catlin, well known in this section as a historian, but who
now lives at the home of a niece in New Haven. Following
are excerpts from Mr. Catlin's writings:
"In the olden days of 'general training' there was a
Northfield Company, which met for training and inspection once
a week. Sometimes some of the men were tired and stayed at
home, in which case they were fined four dollars. One man,
who appeared in a fantastical costume, was fined $24 by hhe
"The mail was brought from New Haven by post by a rider
who came once a week, but later the direct post road and stage
coach route from Hartford to Albany passed through the village.
The Turner tavern was the stopping place for the stage."
"John Catlin bought the Turner tavern and remodeled it,
and in 1842 established a private school. Among the boys who
attended were several who later became famous, including Orville
H. Platt, United States senator, the Seymour brothers, and
others. There were at one time three ball rooms in the village
and dancing was fashionable.."
"In 1831 a great religious awakening took place in the
land. Northfield people were so affected that meetings were
held in homes and churches nearly every night and fifty five
persons joined the Congregational church that year.
"Parson Camp one Sunday exchanged pulpits with the Wolcott
minister. Whether the Wolcott hills looked more barren and for-
lorn than his own, or just what was the connection with his
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you go down to see the Marshes? They're an old couple, live
on the Gulf road down here. They must be close to ninety,
both of fem."