Council agreed and ordered that the right and division of captives be left to the decision and determination of Captain John Mason and Captain James Avery and Daniel Witherell." In 1676 a series of forays were commenced against the Indians and were led by Captain Denison and Captain Avery. There were ten of the expeditions which contributed in no small degree to the favorable results.

Captain Avery was equally prominent in the civil matters of the town. He was chosen townsman in 1660 and held that office twenty years, and one of his earliest acts in this capacity shows a desire to preserve the public public documents. He was twelve times deputy to the general court between 1658 and 1680. Captain James Avery was prominent in matters relating to the church. "In February 1677-78 when it was resolved in town meeting to building a new meetinghouse, to take the place of the old Blinman house in New London, the building committee consisted of Captain Avery and two others." In June, 1684, the old Blinman edi. fice, called "the unadorned church and watch-tower of the wilderness," was sold to Captain Avery for six pounds, with the condition that he remove it in one month's time. The church was taken down and carried across the river and added to the house Captain Avery had already built at Poquonock. The church record kept by Rev. Mr. Broadstreet, begins October 5, 1670, the day of his ordination with the following list: Lieutenant James Avery and Wife, Thomas Miner and Wife, James Morgan, Senior and wife, and eighteen others."

Christopher Avery spent his last years with his son in the old house. Captain James Avery died April 18th, 1700. Such was the life of James Avery, living as he did during the early history of the country.

served the respect and confidence he received.

Not far from the site where the "Hive of the Averys' stood, lies a quiet field, far back from the village street-the old Avery buryingground. It was here Christopher Avery and his son, Captain James Avery, were said to have been buried. There are many old stones with the inscriptions obliterated, and theirs are probably among them. The oldest stone one can read marks the spot where lie the second James Avery and his wife, Deborah Stallyn. Not far from them lies the third James Avery and his wife, Mary Griswold, whose ancestor settled Lyme, and to whom Colonel Fenwick committed his affairs when he returned to England and the charge of cutting Lady Fenwick's stone and setting it up in Saybrook. Mary Griswold was the niece of Governor Mathew Griswold and a relative of Governor Roger Wolcott. In the center of the yard is a slate stone, bearing this inscription:

In Memory

of Eld'r Park Avery

who died

March 24, 1797
aged 87 years

His first wife, Mary Latham, and the mother of his children, lies one side of him, and the second wife, Grace Denison, on the other side. Elder Park, so-called because he separated separated from the "standing order" and preached every Sunday in the "great room" of the old Avery house, where the services and seats were all free, and the horses well cared for by faithful slaves during the hours of worship. This separation came about by a too rigid enforcement of tythes. Everybody went to hear him until the other meeting-house was closed for a time. The old elder had large wealth for those days and was a

of the Colonial Legislature at Hartford in the beginning of the Revolutionary War, was decidedly in favor of fighting, if necessary, for independence, and he wrote to his four sons from Hartford, "to stand by your country, as I am too old to fight myself." His four sons, Park, Jr., Jasper, Elisha and Ebenezer were all in the fort September 6, 1781, and it was to the home of the last named the wounded were carried after being rolled down the hill in a cart on that dreadful day. The oldest son of Elder Park Avery lies near his father.

In Memory of

Lieut Park Avery, who died Dec. 20th, 1821
Aged 80 years

He served his country in the
revolutionary war and was

severely wounded in
Fort Griswold

His son, Thomas, had been killed earlier in the day, fighting by his father's side, who, taking his dead son in his arms, carried him into the fort-room and tenderly laying him down, said: "I have nothing to say. He died in a good cause. That night the dead and wounded were carried back to the old house. Elder Park's sons "had stood by their country." Jasper, Elisha and his eldest grandson were dead, Lieutenant Park and Ebenezer severely wounded. Lieutenant Park left at home on that morning a six months' baby boy in his cradle, who had

In Memory of Mrs. Hannah Avery wife of

Mr. Park Avery

who died Sopt. 26th, 1798 Aged 60 yrs.

Lieutenant Park Avery, who was with Washington at White Plains, was at home on a furlough September 6, 1781, and awakened at four o'clock in the morning with the news that the British were entering the river, at once started for the fort, taking with him his eldest son, Thomas, who was seventeen years old. Late in the afternoon a breathless horseman came riding up to the old Avery house with the news that nine Averys had been killed in defense of the Fort and many more wounded. Among the latter was Lieutenant Park Avery, who had a bayonet thrust through his eye and was taken up for dead, when he surprised his bearers by

been named Silas Deane. When his father was brought back, he asked that the child's name be changed to Thomas, for his dead boy, which was done.

Near the grave of Lieutenant Park Avery lies his son Youngs, and his wife Eunice Latham, who was daughter of Captain William Latham, the commander of Fort Griswold. Colonel Ledyard being a superior officer and home on a furlough, took command of the fort September 6, 1781.

Captain Latham lived near the fort. fort. The house is still standing in front of which a public fountain has recently been placed to his memory. On the morning of the

at home, on being aroused, went at once to the fort, taking his son William, Jr., who was ten years old, with him, and sending his wife and children to the old Avery house (the home of his aunt, who was the wife of Elder Park Avery), in the care of his slave, Lambo. Lambo saw the family safe in the house and turned back, when his mistress said: "Your master told you to take care of us, Lambo." "I know it," Lambo replied, "I have left you in a safe place and now I shall go to my master. I have never in all my life left him and shall not now. Lambo twice saved his master's life that day in the fort; once, by pushing a sword away, and in doing so losing the fingers of one hand. The second time, receiving the sword in his body, he fell dead at the feet of his master.

Little William Latham, who was afterward called the "Powder Monkey," worked all the morning fetching and bringing the powder horns from the magazine. Captain Latham was severely wounded and the little "Powder Monkey" lay with his arms around his father's neck all the afternoon. After the battle, Captain Latham's wife, with her daughter and others, came from the old house to find her husband and child. It was after dark and the search was carried on with lanterns and it was well into the night before she found her husband, and learned her child had been taken prisoner by Benedict Arnold. Early the next morning Mrs. Latham crossed the river to New London, and going to Benedict Arnold, whom socially she had met many times, when he lived in Norwich, said: "Benedict Arnold, I come for my child, not to ask him, but to demand him, of you." "Take him," said Benedict Arnold, "but don't bring him up to be a d-d rebel." "I shall take him," she replied, "and teach him to despise

sat on the lap of a neighbor, with a crust of bread in his hand, not daring to eat it, pale and sick, as he had eaten nothing since leaving home the day before at three o'clock in the morning. The child never fully recovered from the dreadful scenes of that day, and was always sad and thoughtful. Later in life, he went on a cruise to the West Indies. Going ashore to buy gifts for the home friends, he was seized by a press-gang belonging to a British man-of-war, where he suffered greatly for two years in spite of every effort being used for his release. After some time at home he again went to sea, never to be heard from. Such is the sad story of the little "Powder Monkey," William Latham, Jr.

Some time before the battle, Colonel Ledyard thought there were not enough horses to carry the guns to Boston. Captain Latham offered his, "Trot," a fine grey horse belonging to his daughter, Mary. Colonel Ledyard was afraid the. horse would not be able to carry the mattress gun, and bet Captain Latham five pounds he could not do it. Captain Latham accepted the bet, drove "Trot" himself, took his slave Mingo to bring him back. "Trot" and the gun arrived in Boston eight hours before the rest of the company, and Colonel Ledyard paid the bet.

At one side of the old burying ground, in a lot raised above the others, is a small monument, erected many years ago by John J. Avery. At the time of his birth, his father named him John John Avery, to "distinguish him from the other John Averys," as he put it. it. John J. Avery received a great deal of notoriety by putting up his monument before his death. that time such a thing had never been heard of, and the story is told of him during the days when wheat flour first came into use, he was

At

his family and gave orders to that effect. At one time he was to be away all day, when his children asked their mother to make a wheat short-cake for dinner, which she did, and what was their surprise to see Mr. Avery drive into the yard just as the cake was placed on the table. Mrs. Avery quietly arose and, taking the cake, put it under the cushion of her chair and sat down, much to the disappointment

of the children.

Another interesting stone bears the following inscription:

In Memory of ye Rev'd & Pious Mr. John Owen The Second Ordained Minister in Groton who died Lords Day Morning Jan'y 14 A. D. 1753 in ye

50 year of his Age.

The first Church of Christ, to which the good man ministered on Groton Heights, have recently erected a fine stone edifice, in which a memorial window, costing two thousand dollars, has been placed to the "founder of the Groton Averys."

A quaint slate stone near the wall is worthy of notice:

In Memory of Bristera blackman who died, aged 74 his life was a worthy example to all acquainted with him.

Sixteen lie buried in this old yard who fought in Fort Griswold. Through the efforts of the president of the "Thomas Avery" Children's Society of the C. A. R., who is a lineal descendant of Captain James Avery, and was born in the old house, Revolutionary markers have been placed at the graves, and a new stone bearing the old inscription to the grave of Thomas. Avery, also a handsome iron gate at the entrance.

It was hard to realize the scenes of that dreadful day, the 6th of September, 1781, as we stood in the old burying ground on a beautiful summer afternoon, with the Sabbath peace upon the old spot, and the warm sunshine and lengthening shadows falling among the graves, the bees drowsily murmuring in the grass and myrtle; where the old cinnamon roses bud and blossom just as they did when the hands that planted them with such loving were wet with falling tears, and long since turned to dust.

care

OLD

BY

N continuing my story of Old "Ti," the negro slave in Connecticut in the colonial times, I am at this writing going to describe especially an ordination service of a century or more ago, in which Dr. Gay of Suffield, Connecticut, the master of Old "Ti,” was one of the chief figures.

Dr. Gay was called to Greenfield to assist in the ordination of their new pastor, the Rev. Paul Devotion. Now, thought Titus, is the time to see Phill. He put on his thinking cap and the result we shall see further on.

The Ecclesiastical Council which Dr. Gay attended was representative and unique. The theory of the day was that the minister was the Ambassador of the Most High; that he stood between God and Man; that there was an especial call and consecration of God, which must be ratified by the church militant, or at least recognized by his fellow ambassadors. The examination of a candidate was then a solemn matter, carrying with it the gravest responsibility. Such a con

versation as follows, which took place between four delegates to an ordination in 1893, would have been simply impossible.

"Well, what does this examination amount to, anyhow?"'

"It enables us to see if he has learned his lesson well at the seminary."

"It permits us to see of what mental caliber the candidate is.'

ren, it gives us an opportunity_to air our own theological notions."

In these days it is hardly admitted that any one stands between a man and his God. Nor would there be a large subscription to the tenet that a minister is called to his work in any different sense than a teacher or doctor or mechanic. The general notion seems to be that the minister is a man, the same as any other man, and his influence for good depends only on his force of character. Not so then. It was a heavenly calling, and a divinity hedged the minister. It was more than a royal' office and he was higher than an imperial ambassador. The pontiff preceded the king.

Mr. Devotion was a remarkable young man and his brethren built much upon his future. He had graduated from Harvard at twentyfive with the highest honors. He was instructor in his Alma Mater for five years. His scholarship was thorough and extensive. He had spent three years in the study of theology, and had excelled all his classmates in acumen and logic. He chose to think for himself, and astonished and sometimes alarmed his instructors by his independence, and his original views upon many points the churchmen hoped at least were settled. He was a man of great earnestness of purpose. He was self-sacrificing to a fault. His life was simplicity itself. With his sincere piety and spontaneous