The
Deserted Farm : A Poem
By Jane (White) Rounsevell
This poem, along with accompanying
information, was printed in the Ashleys of America Newsletter, Volume 1
no. 1, 1969. Doris Ashley Lang supplied this information at the time of
publication:
Jane White
Rounsevell was the granddaughter of Sally Todd( Ashley) Nye [wife of Pardon Nye]. Jane lived on Middleboro Road (Route 18),
and was the author of many poems about her family and life in the Freetown
area.
In
this poem, she describes a visit to the lands that were purchased by Joseph
Ashley between 1760 and 1769, Lots 21, 22 and 23 of the Pocasset Outlet, all of
the land between Morton Road and Dr. Braley Road, which was the home of Abraham
Jr., Percival, Abraham and Sally Todd.
Sally married Pardon Nye, and they had 14 children, only two of who died
before reaching a ripe age. Six went to
California in the gold rush.
Mass.
Historical Collections state: “Six persons by the name of Ashley died in one
house.” Gravestone records show it was this house. Perhaps this was the reason it was deserted.
Another granddaughter
of Sally Todd, Dr. Nellie (Brightman) Robinson, (her husband was also a
doctor), bought back 60 odd acres and built a house near the old place in the
early 1900s. Her elder son was lost on
a ship torpedoed when it left the Philippines.
Dr. Nellie was burned to death in the house in the 1950s. Her sons sold the land to Goodhue &
Chase, the lumber dealers who are present owners of that part of the land. Part of the land is now Ashley Heights, a
new housing development and part is the home of Ted and Pauline Ashley [at the
time of this writing in 1969].
Specific references to names and places will be noted in
italics.
I
started forth, with the intent,
One
fine and pleasant morn,
To
seek the old deserted farm
Where
Grandmother* was born.
*Sally Todd (Ashley) Nye
Through
dewy fields I reached the spot*
Where
the red schoolhouse stood,
And
here a narrow cart track leads
Through
a cool and fragrant wood.
*Where Dr. Braley Road turns from East-West to North-South.
I
follow this and soon emerge
To
a sunlit, charming spot:
‘Tis
an old deserted homestead,
And
time great change has wrought.
The
cellar walls have fallen in
(The
house has long been gone*),
The
rose bush by the old doorstep
Droops
lonely and forlorn.
*Rodolphus and John Ashley bought the place, dismantled the house, and
rebuilt it on County Road.
The
spacious barn, in olden times,
Filled
to the eaves with hay,
The
blacksmith shop* and row of sheds
Were
long since torn away.
*Abraham2,
Percival3, & Abraham4, were blacksmiths. The building was said to be 100 feet
long. Abraham4 was called “squealing”
Abram for his very high-pitched voice.
A
heavy growth of timber stands
Where
once were fields of grain,
Tall
trees now grow around the spring
And
all along the lane.
There’s
not a living soul in sight
No
sign of toil or strife:
A
hushed and solemn stillness reigns
Where
once was teeming life.
The
house lot lies fair & green
As
in the days of yore,
When
Great Grandfather Percival
Beheld
it from his door.
Along
this path he must have gone,
A
soldier* faring on,
To
join the brave determined men
Who
fought with Washington.
*Percival served
under Capt. Levi Rounseville at Lexington, and also served as Lieutenant under
Capt. Jos. Norton, among others. His
father, Abraham, Jr.2 held a commission as Lieutenant under King
George the Third and remained loyal to his King all his life. An early “generation gap.”
In
thoughtful mood I stroll about
The
old neglected place,
Hallowed
by pleasant memories
And
a well-remember face.
I’ve
listened in childish wonder
With
round wide open eyes,
To
Grandma’s* tales of her childhood home
And
deemed it paradise.
*Sally Todd (Ashley) Nye
I
picture a lassie flying
Over
these pastures fair,
Without
either saddle or bridle
Astride
the old gray mare.
I
see her climbing in winter
This
hill, and sliding down;
And
trudging forth to salt the sheep
Clad
in her homespun gown.
And
now with eager interest
I
scan each rock and nook,
When
just behind a clump of trees
I
hear a singing brook.
‘Tis
Squinn’s!* I cry in pleased surprise
Where
Grandma used to drive the cows
At
night and morn to drink
*Squam Brook on the U.S. Geological Survey Map, but “Squinn’s” to all
Freetowners.
‘Twas
somewhere near they washed the sheep
On
pleasant summer days,
And
with joyful shout and laughter
The
woodland echoes raise.
While
musing, idly, on the past,
I
see as in a dream,
A
host of youthful ancestors
Who
played beside this stream.
Some
in the little graveyard* lie
Upon
the old home farm:
While
others sleep in distant lands
Far
from its sheltered calm.
*Ashley Cemetery, North Avenue
Rousing
at length from my reverie
I
leave these pleasant bowers,
Impressed
by God’s omnipotence
And this fleeting life of ours.
