Emma Curtis Richardson

THE GROTON AVERY CLAN, Vol. I, by Elroy McKendree Avery and Catherine Hitchcock (Tilden) Avery, Cleveland, 1912. p. 505

GENEALOGY OF THE RAND FAMILY in the United States, compiled by Florence Osgood Rand, New York, 1898. P 111-112

Notes written by Emma C. Rand about her childhood

Transcribed by her granddaughter, Shirley York Anderson

[Comments in square brackets relate to the original document.]

{Comments in italics and curly brackets were added by the transcriber, to provide some background.}

{Cast of characters:

Emma Curtis Rand, born 22 Oct 1860 Newton Center MA,

George Curtis Rand, Emma's father and Julia Avery, Emma's mother,

brother Avery Lewis Rand (born 1851), and sister Julia Avery Rand (born 1858).

Half-siblings: Mary Elizabeth Rand and George Curtis Rand, from previous marriages of Emma's father,

John Roper, from a previous marriage of Emma's mother.

After John and George went to Chicago, John remained there, but George Jr. went to New York where he was a coffee importer.

Kate and Annie Avery, daughters of Julia Avery's brother Abraham Avery,

Huldah Brokenshire and Eliza Frye were sisters of Emma's father,

Mary, Charlie & Susy Brokensire were children of Huldah Brokenshire,

John Ritchie was possibly the son of Susan (Rand) Ritchie, another sister of Emma's father, but he would have been quite a few years older, and I have found no record of children for him.}

Little dimpled blue eyed girl standing in a chair while Lizzie her nurse curled her soft, brown hair. Thus does the gray haired, blue eyed, but no longer dimpled, lady see herself at three.

Years slip away, how many? Who knows. But there comes a day when the Irish cook sets the little girl on the kitchen table by the window, to watch for a small boy who comes to visit his Grandmother across the street, all the while teaching the small child to count in the fascinating Irish tongue.

When did the Italians come to our land to displace or augment the labors of the Irish, but there they were in the street laying gas pipes from Newton Corner (as it was called at that time) to Newton Centre - blasting through the rock that underlay the road in front of our house, & terrifying the little girl, not with the blasting but the strange looking men.

The brook, that fascinating brook, running through the orchard, down behind the barn, was a never ending source of delight - for there we could sail boats - hour after hour, watching them sail away into no-mans land. No store made boats ever sailed that stream, but pieces of wood or chips served every purpose, and with a stick to steer them past the dangerous shoals of leaves or twigs that barred the way, they could reach the half way bridge.

Many a bark was wrecked & lost in that fearsome place - tho sometimes it was possible by lying flat on your stomach & with a good stiff stick & a long reach, help the little boat to pass the accummulated leaves & roots that cluttered there under the small bridge. From then on it was a pretty clear sailing [to the] end of the orchard, where the road was high above the field and the brook ran underneath the street.

There came a day when, by scrambling & climbing walls & fences, one was big enough to get to the other side of the road into the pasture beyond & meet the little craft as it appeared from its perilous trip. Then there was a long, curving, spreading stream to traverse before it was lost to sight in a real lively rushing stream.

A strange memory of a spanking - the only one I remember - is connected with that brook, because I fell in & got wet, but probably I had been forbidden to go there, tho' that must have been when I was younger, for it was later an acknowledged playground.

That was a carefree, happy childhood, ten or twelve years till 1870 or 72 - living in a small town, perhaps nine miles from Boston, with a devoted father & mother, older brother Avery, & sister Julia. The older half brothers John Roper and George do not seem to be in the pictures of those days. They left home before I remember, coming to Chicago - to work for J.W. Doane grocer & coffee merchant, who was an uncle of George's, a brother of his mother, Almira Doane.

Pictures crowd one another, like Walter Winchell's flash, flash, flash. Climbing, climbing, climbing - trees, ladders, stone walls, anything but walk on level ground. There were a few of the twenty or thirty apple trees on the place that could be easily climbed, and by using one for a room, a whole house developed along the edge of the brook.

The kitchen tree was the pet of all. With the little iron stove and some dishes brought from the house, it was possible to play house in a real way. The berry bushes were near by & when Mother made currant jelly up at the house, some could be squeezed, sugared & set to dry in the sun, out in the apple tree kitchen. The apple tree bed was a trifle hard but the cupola was a fascinating climb. There was the barn cupola - a grand climb - & cool & scary when one was finally up there.

Up the steep stairs to the barn loft - carefully carrying a hat full of berries, Cousin Kate Avery & I would go, then up a straight built-in ladder to the beam over the hay - a short walk on that beam, to another ladder of four steps - when by reaching up we could safely deposit the berries - & holding on to the floor of the cupola, pull ourselves up & standing close to the shutters, drop the trap door, & there we were, safe and cool where no one could find us.

Kate's sister Annie, & my sister Julia would come out doors looking for us, calling Kate, Emma, Kate, Emma, til finally we would answer, "Here we are". Of course they could not see us, & after repeated calls it would finally dawn on them that we were up in the barn cupola. They were not climbers as we were, so they never joined us in our fascinating little house, but wanted us to join them playing hide & seek.

That was just the game to play round the barn - there were so many places to hide - harness closets, carriages & stairways besides the loft, inside the barn and then back of the barn, in the basement, in the chicken houses & yards, bushes & innumerable cozy little places where a little girl could tuck herself in.

Julia & Annie were not such tom-boys as Kate & I were - but they were good runners. Kate & I were congenial cousins for many years. They were city girls, living in Boston at 44 Union Park. Kate had the true love for the country and it was a very great pleasure to her to visit us in Newton Centre, where she could romp & run to her hearts delight.

My home consisted of a two story & mansard roof house, and barn, with three or four acres of land in the shape of a flat iron, the whole surrounded by a stone wall & planted with many fruit trees of all kinds.

{The house was still standing in the 1950s, when my mother pointed it out to my brother and his wife, but in later visits, I was not able to figure out which house it was.}

There were two terraces of grape vines, well trimmed besides those growing on the barn, berries of all kinds, blackberries, gooseberries, red & white raspberries, & currants, many cherries. The best cherry tree of all was a beautifully shaped tree, in the croquet-ground, bearing delicious black cherries, an easy tree to climb & affording a fine diversion during a game of croquet.

That locality was an ideal one for pears and there was much rivalry among the men of the village over who could show the handsomest pear at the railroad station in the morning - which was the general gossiping ground for the men. There the news of the day was exchanged & brought home by the "hired" man who had driven the head of the family to the train. In that way Mrs. Bishop learned of the sudden death of my mother - and came immediately to offer sympathy & help. {14 Mar 1874}

But to go back to the fruit trees. There were about thirty apple trees on the place - russets, gravensteens, porter, and half as many pear trees - besides four or five plum trees.

My father took special pride in his pears, they were all labeled with indelible lables, and he knew the day when each one was ready to be picked. Specially made ... cases, just high enough to hold one layer of pears, more stacked in the cellar, in order that the precious pears stored therein might be properly referred. Sickles, bureau..., are some of the varieties that come to mind.

Every morning at breakfast the maid brought him a well peeled pear which he thoroughly enjoyed eating, having his own way of handling it. A fork thrust into it from the stem end held it firmly while he sliced off the lucious pieces, leaving the core still on the fork, & with a twinkle in his eye, he would hand that core to me, saying "The core is the sweetest morsel of all, Emma."

That was not the only taste of the delicious fruit that I had, for pears as well as everything else eatable were free for all to have where ever & when ever we chose. And many times we gorged ourselves with its juicy sweetness. Pears, apples, cherries, plums & berries in their season were our daily fare - besides Mother's always abundantly provided table. Many luxuries found their way to that table, for Father seemed to have a way of knowing what was new & good to eat, which accounted for his having a larger refrigerator room built on to the kitchen pantry.

As I think of the kitchen window to the north, comes a picture of the Newton Centre fire engine out there in the yard, pumping out the cistern, and later having coffee & doughnuts - & I do not know what else - but plenty, since my father was host. He was a most generous man & a free provider. Boxes of oranges & bunches of bananas were in our house, when both were new in the markets.

As I have said, there was a stone wall all around the place, & it was one of our pet stunts to walk on it, making the entire circuit without falling off. There were three gates that were too wide to jump across, one big willow tree that could not be stepped around, also one scary, high stretch, & one place where the wall was topped by a fence - that required considerable skill to manage, but all those things only added zest to the walk. One delightful adventure was to climb out the bathroom window, drop down on the porch roof below, & creep up the roof to the [ell?], whose ridge pole was very tempting.

The flower garden was Mother's delight, a well laid out, some what formal garden it was - straight paths surrounding the croquet ground, with beds on the inside of the walks, all full of blossoms. Roses in profusion & ladies delight seem to be the only ones I can remember - oh yes, the yucca, with its fascinating threads.

The very first thing I remember is standing on a chair in the sitting room by the window, while my nurse Lizzie curled my hair over her fingers, and then one day in Mother's room someone came in and told her something so sad that it made her cry - and she got right out of bed and dressed. That was when my half sister Mary died. She had been married to Marshall Rice & they with their little baby about a year old lived at his father's. Across the street from our house. {3 Jan 1866}

Once I felt very sorry for Marshall because he was laid up with a broken leg and I knew that meant being laid up on one of the shelves of the closet - and their closet was dark [& the] shelves pretty high up, so I was sure he could not be very comfortable.

My sister Julia & I had a room together, and some times did not agree very well. I am afraid I was some what of a tease & made life miserable for her, tho I would not admit it. ...

But to return to our room - Julia liked to sleep in the morning, while Emma woke early & with her restless disposition must be doing something. Three pictures hung in a row on the wall side of the bed, and it was great fun to lie on my back & without touching them with my hands, but using my toes, set the end one going with sufficient force to move the next, while it in turn must be made to move fast enough to set the third in motion. No easy task, I assure you - but somewhat noisy if ones bedfellow wanted to sleep.

Another early morning delight was to persuade the second maid to let the cat upstairs just as soon as she could. It did not take the cat long to find her way to our room & with a cry of greeting jump up on the bed & creep round to my side, always carefully avoiding Julia.

Sometimes Kitty made a mistake & played with Julia's toes under the bed clothes instead of mine - which elicited some remarks from the injured Lady, sounding something like this: "Take your old cat away." Cats, by the way, were one of my strong points, with a strong second in my Father.

Our great excitement on Sunday morning was to bring in to the sitting room the cat & her kittens. Oh yes, we always had kittens at our house for a frolic. One thing we especially enjoyed was to spread out on the floor over a hassock a newspaper, put one kitty under the paper and then watch the fun. That wiggling kitty under the paper was the signal for the others to jump on her, and then such a scramble, pulling & tearing & rolling over one another till the paper was in shreds, the kittens tired out and ready to cuddle down in the sunlight for a nap, while the audience had laughed themselves sore, & it was time to get ready for church.

My father and mother were Methodists and the only Meth. Ch. was at Newton Upper Falls, perhaps three miles from home. We drove to church & must all go, but the one thing impressed on my mind about that church going is the peacock on Mr. Petits lawn.

There were two ways to go - but it was understood that we should take the road leading past his house, where we watched with excitement, hoping we should be favored with a view of that wonderful tail, as the peacock stood on a low stone wall, with her tail spread on the lawn below!

Those were the days when there was much enthusiasm about Dr. Kane & his arctic explorations, so naturally a boy doll all dressed in rough flannel suit with a hood, was named Dr. Kane, & there is a story in the family to the effect that Avery (with George to back him) carried that Dr. K. to church one day &, horror of horrors, took it out of his jacket during the service & made us laugh with it! I do not know what happened when we reached home.

[note in margin] Later a Methodist Ch. was built at Newton Corner (nearer than the Upper Falls), so we went there, & Father was one of the "stand bye".

[return to body] When the time came for me to go to school, what a happy child I was. I had been to visit once or twice with Julia, not however to her great enjoyment, but when the day really came when I could wait at our gate for Miss [Spear?] to pass, who was the primary teacher and walked up from Newton Corner, and she took my excited hand in her soft cool one, I was a very happy child indeed.

Dear Miss [Spear?] was one of the warm friends of my childhood, a quiet, serene little lady, never ruffled and always, in my eyes, beautiful to look upon. Do you know how grand it is to meet teacher and walk to school with her, in sort of an intimate way? Well, that is how I felt.

I was not a famous scholar then & never was, for I think all my childhood days were spent on the lookout for a good time. Evidently that was my chief object in life, and I made quite a success of it - at the time. Why did not someone teach me that there was more to life than a good time. I have no doubt many tried to do so, but I would not listen, and have had to learn that, with many other lessons, later in life.

At that time school was held in the little old building where the present Macon School building stands, but was moved across the street where the Methodist Ch. now stands in order to build a fine new school on the old site. There were 3 rooms, the primary in a little end room with a door at the side, the intermediate in the main part of the bld. down stairs, and the higher (or upper) grades upstairs, presided over, I think, by Mr. Farnum.

At last the new bld. was finished and how grand it was to go over there, where we had plenty of room, new desks and dressing rooms, with an Assembly room on the third floor. That assembly room - what memories crowd in on one, at the mere thought of it. On that high platform we must mount when it came our turn to "speak", at the weekly gatherings on Friday afternoon, when all the rooms went up for exercises.

How many fairs, evening entertainments of all kinds, lectures, concerts &c. were held there, and as my father was interested in all such things and was one who could help financially, we were always on hand.

The largest fair of all was wonderful, certainly - booths of all kinds. The old woman in her shoe had so many dolls to sell she did not know what to do, & it was great fun for the little girls to be lifted into that huge shoe & allowed to sell dolls. A Mother Goose performance in pantomime was equally exciting, while the art gallery, a side show, was most attractive.

{See Newton Journal, 20 Nov 1869} One night we were suddenly wakened by the furious pealing of the church bell just across the street from our house, & knowing that means fire, you may be sure we tumbled out of bed in lively fashion. Our room was already bright from the glare of the flames and it was not many minutes before we could plainly see that the school house was burning. It stood on a hill in the center of the village & could be plainly seen.

There were two things that I was terribly afraid of - fire & lighning - so to me that was a fearful experience. While the family gathered in our room to watch the burning building, I shivered & sobbed in bed, torn between fear of the fire, & every once in a while an uncontrollable desire to look at that fearful thing.

Gradually there crept into my consciousness the fact that there could be no school tomorrow & perhaps never! O joyous fact, never any more school, just fun & play, but fortunately for irresponsible youth, the powers that be ordained that school should not close just because the building was a heap of ruins. It was not long before we were all arranged for in various rooms in the village - some classes over the apothecary's, my class in the fire engine house, the rest in the old school house, I think.

Of all my belongings that were destroyed in that building, my most precious was two little perfumery bottles that I had in my desk for water with wh. to wash my slate. Books &c. could be bought again, but little keepsakes, never. Mr. [Farnum?] was the presiding elder of the Mason School & many children have been brought [in]to line with his ruler and stern manner, when at heart I know he was most kindly. "You are well meaning but heedless, was his favorite expression." I think.

{Based on George C. Rand's passports, the following is probably their trip in 1867. Passports have also been located for 1863 and 1876, but Avery would have been too young in 1863, and Julia died in 1874.}

But I am far ahead of my story. There came a day when Father & Mother decided to go to Europe, on acct. of Father's poor health, I think. Avery was to stay in the house with some friends for company, while Ju. & I were to board at Aunt Huldah's {Brokenshire} in Milton & Aunt Eliza {Frye} was to take care of us. What good times we had that summer, or I did. I cannot answer for Julia, but all times were good times to me.

What delicious pies and cakes Dolly Nelson and I made on the old stone wall at the side of the house, out of mud and mortar. Almost equal to Aunt Huldah's huckleberry pies - that smelled so good & tasted better. There we were Princesses, living in gold houses or riding golden horses, all made by magic out of the apple trees in the yard.

There were many cousins about the age of my brother Avery who used to congregate at Aunt Huldah's and were there a good deal that summer. They were always playing all kinds of jokes, on every one. Mary, Charlie & Susy Brokensire, John Ritchie. Mary was a frequent visitor, being a friend of the family & her brother Hugh [Doroughty?] was there often. Part of their fun was to tease us, Dolly N. & I.

I have not said that Dolly was a niece of Aunt Eliza's and lived near, but the best way to go to her house was the longest way, because a haunted house where a crazy woman lived must be passed if we went the short way & it took a great deal of courage [to] make up your mind to go that way. If no one was in sight to protect you, you must run just as fast as you could till you were well past the yellow house.

One day when we were having a delighful party for the dolls, with the door locked because some one might come in to tease us & eat up all our bread & tea & baked beans - really truly baked beans because Aunt Huldah understood little girls & their tea parties and things - we were persuaded to unlock the door & let in just one friend (?) who wanted to call at the tea party.

No sooner was the door unlocked than more than one young caller burst into the room. Shortly we retired in tears. Imagine our feelings on returning to find those dignified dolls sitting around their little table with their faces in the beans! I can see them this minute.

That was the summer of the watermelon rind that found its way under pillows &c, and nearly caused serious trouble in the Brokenshire household.

There is a story current in the Rand family that when Aunt Eliza opened the door to step in the house at Newton Centre just a few hours before Father & Mother were due to arrive from their trip abroad, the air was laden with white feathers - which invaded her nostrils, whitened her hair & clothes & seemed to be everywhere.

The house was supposed to be in apple pie order, having been cleaned in the most approved method after having been used all summer by Avery & his chums. I can imagine how necessary was the work & how thoroughly it was accomplished!

But this state of affairs was inexplicable - feathers, feathers everywhere. On investigation, the dining room seemed to be most dense with them, & behold a pair of pillows burst open, the remains of a pillow fight in the early morning hours.

The homecoming was exciting to my mind because of what was brought for me, and it proved to be a wonderful French doll, kid body joints & oh joy, hair, hair that was hair, not china paint as all dolls had, & a brush & comb, for my lady, with, wonderful to relate, a pair of real kid gloves, with one button & that really could be put on a dolly's hand, for she had lovely kid fingers.

There was a blue silk sun shade, jewelry, necklace, earrings, watch, bronze kid shoes, a travelling dress & blue silk dress with a train, underclothes, and a hat. Were ever children happier, for Julia had one just like mine, and they were the only ones of the kind among our playmates.

Mother was nice enough to let us play with them, & mine was a dearly loved companion for a long time, suffering every kind of known disease, and many that were not known, & if medicine could kill, she would have died long before her time, for many & wonderful were the concoctions that were given to ease her hours of pain.

For some reason I was supposed to be behind my class at school after this, and so was sent for a year to Miss Carrie Smith school, daughter of Rev. S. F. Smith, author of My Country Tis of Thee.

It was there I first saw Bessie & Charlie Clark, and this was the way Bessie took to relieve the poor little awkward stranger who had come to school that morning, for the rest of the scholars had been there before. She had a lunch box full of peanuts which she proceeded to scatter on the floor & then asked me to help her pick them up because Miss Carrie would not like it if they were not all picked up before school began.

The room was pleasant with a south exposure & a large closet into wh. we were sent when we were naughty - to sit on the shelf - & then if someone else was sent there at the same time - why, we had a good time together. I am afraid we made life miserable for Arthur Gooch, a boy much older than we were, but who was shy and not a "mixer", neither did he understand girls.