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New England Chattels; Or, Life In The Northern Poor-house

Creator: Samuel H. Elliot (author)
Date: 1858
Publisher: H. Dayton, New York
Source: Available at selected libraries
Figures From This Artifact: Figure 2  Figure 3  Figure 4  Figure 5  Figure 6  Figure 7

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It was into the care of Captain Isaac Bunce and his amiable family that the poor of Crampton were confided by the authorities. They placed them with him mainly on these two considerations -- First, That he had bid for them lower than any other of the respectable, moral and humane citizens of the town. Second, Because he was deemed responsible to fulfil his contract. They did not ask him where or how he would keep them, "provided always" that they were "suitably" kept, and in such a manner as "to save the town harmless" of any further cost than what the contract specified. Of this they were morally certain that neither he nor any other of the citizens of Crampton could be expected to keep them in his own house unless perfectly convenient, and absolutely necessary for the want of other accommodations. Nor would he of course keep them in the same rooms and beds that he appropriated to his own family, and the relatives and occasional visitors of the family.

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The stipulation was not of this sort, although the tender mercies of the town authorities were so actively in exercise that they contracted in the name of mercy and justice, which sometimes go sweetly together, of humanity and religion, (which sometimes have kissed each other,) such at least as Captain Bunce immortalized in his daily practice towards the paupers, for the "suitable" keeping of the unfortunates in his charge. "Suitable" keeping of town paupers means, in a manner that hardly any other human being would endure, i.e., in a very unsuitable way for persons who have money and are respectably, well off. This done, for example, by Captain Bunce, and the town authorities, unless sent for, rarely visited the quarters of the poor, nor tarried long when they did. Captain Bunce courted no investigation of his private practice of town officials, nor did he care especially that curious, prying, jealous eyes should examine his premises, and spy out his management. Feeling wholly competent to manage his own concerns, what possible advantage was it to him that one and another person of the town should visit his "works" and volunteer advice? The overseers rather liked this independent spirit, and the town as a whole, felicitated itself in having the right sort of a man to take on his shoulders the whole charge of the pauper family. Seldom do we find two separate interests so nicely balanced as were these of the town and of Captain Bunce, and working so harmoniously to a common end.

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As our friend the Captain did not intend to keep, shelter, feed and clothe the paupers in his own house, "where," it may be asked by some, "where did he intend to keep them?" To be sure, in the poor-house, so-called, or rather in the old house we have described, and which, a great while ago, had been inhabited by the ancestors of the Bunce family, thus making the genealogical structure itself one of uncommon respectability.

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"Why," said Captain Bunce. "my father was born in this very house! Yes, indeed, he was. And my grandfather lived here forty years. It is a most venerable, remarkable, extraordinary old house."

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"It is indeed," said Bill, the colored man, "it is as old as the hills."

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But the true character of such old forsaken tenements, the floor of the kitchen over the cellar trembling with its own weight, who does not know?

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Here then the poor folks of Crampton had their home. They were not confined there as to a penitentiary or jail. They roamed about here and there, making neighborhood excursions, went to the Captain's kitchen and barn, were sent of errands, worked in the fields, etc., and occasionally some of them went away to beg or steal, or in idle curiosity roved off and were gone some days. But whatever they did, wheresoever they roamed, they never arose out of their condition of paupers, dependent, broken down, forgotten, doomed paupers! They never found themselves in a situation that did not forcibly remind them of their poverty, that great ill of human life, that cause of much sinning, that blight on human happiness and hope, that dimmer even of heaven's own glorious light. Their rooms, their raiment, their food, their means of enjoyment, their field of industry, their circle of friends and associates, the prayers and exhortations to which they listened, the portions of the gospel selected for their benefit, all, all reminded them that they were the poverty-stricken ones of the earth; that their fellow-men regarded them as useless, thriftless, wasteful consumers, with but one scene in the play of life unacted, viz. -- the death scene!

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CHAPTER V.
JOE HARNDEN and his visitors. "When visits and calls are made they should be civil and short. Do not bore a friend to death by the length of your civility, but cut it short off before he shall even begin to wish you hadn't called at all.

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"AND how do you feel to-day, Mr. Harnden?" said the pious old widow with a very kind tone of voice, and taking him by his extended hand.

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"Joe's very sick," said he, "very sick, Mrs. Prescott, but he's on the mending order now, and will be up again by to-morrow or next day."

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