The Republican journal., 1897-05-13
"Aunt Rachel"

% The EDITOR OF 1HE JOURNAL
Some weeks ago saw in The Journal the
death recorded of Capt. James Littlefield
| of Bangor. 1t is often the case that a
passing notice Of death will bring back
incidents and "reminiscences of childhood
almost forgotten, and call to life circum-
stances dimmed by time, and yet distinct
ly photographed on the unforgetting cyl
! inders of the brain, needing only a touch
to brush away the dust from the sensi-
tive film. Such touch came to me when
/ | read that notice, and revealed face and
| figure which was one of the good and
bright things of my earliest recollections.
l have no data, no recorded heredity to
aid me in what | shall write about-a
wonderful woman-only my own childish
| impressions and what l learned from
other lips, now alas, too, only dust.
When used to return from the long days
school spent in the old fred school house,"
now only pleasant memory to the mid
die aged, but potent factor of late in
promoting sectional and religious hatred,
| used often to see, either sitting by the
wide old fire place, or perhaps, holding
the last new baby on her ample lap, a tall,
elderly woman of the angular New Eng
land type, once so common, but now
merged into comfortable fat She had
shrewd kindly face with flashing dark
eyes, that glowed and kindled beneath
prominent brows, and her hair was also
dark. and ] fail to remember one kindly
streak of gray that usually comes to
soften the face of age. | do not know
Aunt Rachefs name before she married,
when a young girl, William Littlefeld. l
have often heard it, and my impression is
that she was native either of Frankfort or
Monroe William Littletield was brother
to my grandmother Clark, and lived and
died in Frankfort, and his dust reposes in
the little burying ground in Goshen"
just above the hill where the schoolhouse
stood, isolated and lonely. When she be-
came his wife he was a widower, blessed
with the usual accompaniment of the wild
over in the early part OF the century, a
large family. | think those children were
nearly all girls, and their descendants
must be many. Aunt Rachel cheerfully
assumed the responsibilities and labors
incident to the circumstances and locality,
and in the course of time a child, called
Jacob, | think, was born to her In less
than two years after the birth of this boy
Uncle William died, and in few months
after his death was born the posthumous
son, who became Capt. James Littletield
1t is one of the wise and mysterious things
in life that We cannot know just what
trials may prove blessings in disguise.
The fact that another one was to come, in
addition to the child and step children al
ready dependent on her, was an added
drop of bitterness in the cup of the poor
widow, left young in life with so many
dependent ones; but in after years. when
this posthumous son was her support
and stay in her old age, she realized the
truth of some of those wonderful passages
of Scripture which she was so apt to
quote. l remember once when she was an
aged woman, and friend came to her
and asked her advice as to what she
should do to support her family, that
after Aunt Rachel had given her all the
practical advice she could, she raised her
eyes to heaven and said in a tone broken
with emotion: 81 have been young, and
now | am old, but | have never seen the
righteous forsaken, nor his seed begging
bread.'
Some time after the death of Uncle
William when, | presume, nearly if not
quite all of her step-children were in
homes of their own, she again married
widower with four children, and by him
she had two more, making four sets of
children to whom she was a mother Her
last husbands name was John Spearing
Her youngest child by that marriage was
a very able woman, who proved a tender
daughter to an aged mother. Her minis
trations to her children and step-children
were the smallest part of her good works
and deeds. No marriage, funeral, or birth
could take place without aunt Rachel. 1t
was a common occurrence to run into
neighbor's house, to or from school. and
See darkened room-a quiet husband
Aunt Rachel with a new born babe in her
arms. Or, to gaze with childish awe at a
house where death had entered, perhaps
to steal quietly in out of the golden sun
shine, away from the singing birds and
bees, into a sparely furnished room
''swept and garnished for the funeral
rites,' to gaze with awe on quiet form
swathed and bound in the CHASTITY manner
common to the old time custom. Then
the tall, gaunt form of Aunt Rachel would
appear to break the terrible SPELL and with
long breath we would glide silently out
where the sweet signs Of pulsng, buoyant
life would Danish the gloom and dread of
death and the grave. With all her kind
ness of heart, ler untlincling devotion to
duty, her answering tenderness and
loyalty to child, friend and neighbor, she
carried grim humor and power of re-