BARRE, VERMONT
Lucienne Mercier and Gérard Trépanier
First a farmer and then a doctor, Barre's first physician, Dr. Robert Paddock, came to the 
Lucienne Mercier and Gérard Trépanier
new town of Wildersburgh in 1793, just in time to watch the memorable fist fight over the naming of Barre. Not only did he watch the Thompson-Sherman scrap, which took place on a new hemlock barn floor, but after the fight, he removed hemlock splinters from the back and buttocks of Sherman, the winner.
A man of action, he was described as being "exceedingly wroth" when deacons of the Congregational Church refused to permit the funeral of a non-member to be held in church.
Dr. Paddock enlisted the aid of a sturdy buddy in the person of Judge Chapin Keith. Neither man was a member of the church, but that didn't stop them. Armed with axes, they marched right up to the church doors on the day of the funeral.
Barre VT The great Pendamic
They were met by the church deacons, who barred the way. But seeing the glint in the eyes of the doctor and the judge and noting the axes, the deacons decided to retreat. However, they let it be known that they had done their duty toward protecting the church of God from invasion, and that all responsibility rested on the heads of the "invaders."
Dr. Paddock took care of the ailments of his fellow Barreites for 49 years (1793-1842), after which his son, Dr. Lyman Paddock, took over the practice. In 1814, the elder Dr. Paddock built a brick colonial house that was perhaps the finest dwelling in Barre at the time. It still stands, majestically, at the corner of South Main and Circle Streets.
Barre's first lawyer was James Fisk, a Baystater, a Revolutionary War veteran, and a Universalist preacher. He came to town in 1798 and earned his livelihood by being both a farmer and a preacher. Two years later, the townspeople sent him to the Vermont Legislature as a representative, and they re-elected him to that post no less than seven times. Later, he served in the U.S. Senate, and became a close friend of President James Madison.
James Fisk
Shortly after being admitted to the Orange County Bar in 1803, he gave up being a preacher-farmer to earn his living as a Barre lawyer. It is said that Fisk, described as a "small-sized, keen-eyed, ready-witted and really talented" individual, enjoyed a brisk business. He became chief judge of the Orange County Court, a Vermont Supreme Court judge, and a U. S. collector of customs for Vermont, moving to Swanton when he was named collector. Fisk, in the 20 years he lived in Barre, captured enough honors for several lifetimes.
Discipline in the early churches of the town was stern, tough and unrelenting. If any member failed to attend church meetings, it was held to be the "indispensable duty" of the church to find out the reasons why. Church members were told not to attend dances and not to "join with the wicked in any of their vain amusements or misspent time and money at taverns or unnecessarily associate with the wicked."
A dark chapter in Barre's early history centers on its care of the poor. Take, for example, "Miss Braughton," a town pauper, who in 1804 was vendued (auctioned) off to the lowest bidder, that is, to the person who would agree to keep her at the least expense to the town. Malum Stacy, the successful bidder, offered to take the "keep" of the woman for sixty-six cents a week. It was considered "good business" on the part of the town to place the poor out in the homes of individuals with as little expense to the town as possible.
The birth of Barre's public school system took place at the town's March meeting in 1794 when citizens voted a tax to support schooling but rejected a proposal to establish religious services.
The voters simply cast over Article 16, "To see if the town will erect some cheap log cabin in the center of said town for the purpose of holding their meetings to do town business and to meet in on Lord's Day for the public worship of God." A few years later, however, the Universalists, Methodists and Congregationalists did establish themselves in the area.
And the town's people also voted that "swine should not run at large in the present year."
Such was life in early Barre. For sure, it was never dull.
Barre, Vermont, began attracting Scots and Italians almost a hundred years ago. The city's booming granite industry offered a fine opportunity for workers skilled in the stone trades to start new lives in a new land. Evidence of the skill of these worker artisans can be seen all over the country. A visit to the beautiful Hope Cemetery in Barre is like a stop-over in an outdoor museum of sculpture.
Barre is a unique Vermont community in many respects. No small part of this uniqueness is the unusual mixture of nationalities which makes Barre a colorful patchwork of cultures and languages. This mix of people has helped Barre grow into the exciting place it is today.
On any day, a visitor to Barre may hear several languages spoken freely on the streets and in the stores. It is a pleasure to see faces which reflect roots in different lands and yet somehow fit into a pleasant mosaic of peoples.
In 1976, the groundwork for a program of Ethnic Studies was laid, and the following year, the Vermont State Department of Education recognized the efforts in Barre and secured a $43,000 federal grant. In November, 1977, Karen Lane, a gifted folklorist, was hired.
Barre VT, public library
Operating from space provided by the Aldrich Public Library, which served as project sponsor, the work of the new team began. In short order, their headquarters had begun to be called the "Roots Cellar." Rare books, pictures and other materials were gathered from families, individuals and private and public records.
Interviews with senior citizens were taped, and school children undertook special projects.
In July, 1978, a two-day Ethnic Heritage Festival was held that attracted 5,000 people. The downtown area was blocked off from traffic and became a pleasant mall. Lebanese, Spanish, French, Swedes, Scandinavians, Poles, Italians, Scots - in all, twelve nationalities celebrated together. The foods were authentic and delicious. Store owners were proud of lovely window displays portraying Scottish, Jewish, German, English or other cultural treasures.
The real message of the Barre Ethnic heritage project lay in the building of a community which celebrates life in all its various forms of expression.
Old suspicions and separations often kept the various national groups in Barre socially distant although they worked together each day. At times, there was open hostility as new immigrant groups came to the area and job security was threatened. As in other places, the melting pot concept was taught in the schools, not always with good results. On a more positive level, particularly in recent years, Barre citizens have begun to realize the immense potential for growth and the common good which rests in their diversity of culture and national origin.
Through a fist fight, some people claim.
No, no says another group. It was through a gift of money.
Barre, VT
Which group is right? Read the evidence and render your own judgment.
The story really begins in 1788 when two pioneers -- John Goldsbury and Samuel Rogers -- and their families decided to quit their places in Massachusetts and trek up into the Green Mountain wilderness, where land was cheap and they could set up new homes. Other pioneers followed in short order, coming from Massachusetts, Connecticut, Rhode Island and New Hampshire. They all settled in Wildersburgh, nearly 20,000 acres of wild land chartered to William Williams and 60 others in 1780. But none of these original chaps ever settled there. It took Goldsbury and Rogers to lay the groundwork.
Within a few years, five areas made up Wildersburgh: the Upper Village, now South Barre, the largest of the settlements; the Lower Village, now Barre; Jockey Hollow, the south end of the Lower Village; Gospel Village, now the vicinity of Lincoln School and Elmwood Cemetery; and Thwingville, now North Barre.
Barre VT
Now comes the fight scenario. As far as the early settlers were concerned, the name Wildersburgh was for the birds. They wanted something snappier.
If you stop by the present West Hill Farm in Barre Town, you will find on one of the buildings an attractive sign bearing this inscription: "At a town meeting held at this site September 3, 1793 occurred a fight between Jonathan Sherman of Barre, Mass., and Capt. Thompson of Holden, Mass. for the privilege of naming the town. Sherman won and named the town Barre."
Alack and alas, the town records fail to mention any fight. Hence, the second legend, which is backed up by town records.
The townspeople, at a meeting in September, 1793, decided to erect "a house of worship" and voted that the person kicking in the most money for the building should have the right to name the town. Ezekiel Dodge Wheeler came through with £62 -- equal to approximately $310 -- and promptly named the town Barre.
But historian J.W. Ramsay refers to the fight and goes on with this eye-opening sentence: "This (the fight) is corroborated by the action of the town which, 12 years later, in September 1805, 'voted to destroy the note given by Mr. Wheeler and not collected,' thus carrying the impression that the note was never given a bona fide business transaction."
So there you have it -- two legends, one backed up by town records and the other coming to us from the distant past by a tradition that just won't go away.
Which legend are you picking: the fight or the gift of mon
Star Trek: The Big Cliff
Last weekend’s opening of the new Star Trek film generated much hoopla for geology fans. Or at least I like to think it did. Why? Because the opening sequence includes a spectacular shot of a Corvette plunging over a cliff and into a deep hole in the middle of Iowa. The cliff was obviously the wall of a quarry, as you can see the ledges where the stone was cut. But where?
When the trailer for the film, which featured the Corvette shot, first appeared last year, many fans in the Trek universe were sent into a tizzy about the cliff. They knew that the driver of the car, a young James Kirk, will grow up in Iowa, but did not know of any such cliffs in Kirk’s home state. One wrote that because there aren’t any big cliffs like that in Iowa, the shot completely ruined the movie. I agree. If you are going to spend all of that money on a fictional, fantasy movie where people can use a transporter for travel, at least get the geology right. Others, however, contended that Kirk might have been on a road trip or that perhaps in the future someone would dig such a hole in Iowa.
The road trip idea fits in best with the filming. Consider that the scene is supposed to take place in Iowa was mostly shot outside of Bakersfield, California, and that the quarry is in Vermont.
The quarry hole that Mr. Kirk’s nice red Corvette shoots into is the E. L. Smith Quarry, started near Barre, Vermont, by Emery L. Smith, a Civil War veteran. After the war he returned to Barre, married, and started to acquire properties, eventually owing over 70 acres. Out of their quarries came the stone for the State House in Montpelier. The Rock of Ages corporation purchased the quarry in 1941 and still own it. The pit is now roughly 600 feet deep. The quarry produces a light gray granite, which formed during the Acadian Orogeny, sometime around 370 million years ago.
Rock of Ages Quarry, photo used courtesy of Peggy Perazzo
According to press reports recently blasted out of Vermont, the crew came and shot the quarry without any actors in May 2008. They rented a helicopter and spent a day shooting aerial and still shots but wouldn’t say why or for what film. Using computer graphics apparently they then added the quarry face to the scenes shot in California. I guess with computers you don’t need a transporter
http://stories-in-stone.blogspot.ca/2009/05/star-trek-big-cliff.html
Alain Laprise 25 April 2014
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