If one were to envision an ideal New England farm, it might well resemble most closely the one that resides on either side of the Old Kings Highway. Approaching from the north, rolling hills and an old stone wall ramble toward the red barn and the barnyard, and from the south, an apple orchard and a brook; and across the road, stone hitching posts and a white well house stand like sentries in front of the beautiful colonial, circa 1730, framed with old oaks and maples. Another fruit orchard crosses the yard, separating the house from the valley where the Little River flows, traversed by the wooden bridge of an old farm road and lined with the brambles just starting to flush with their spring garnet. This charming property has, in all its aspects, the appearance of a quintessential country farm replete with crops and animals. And it was, long ago, and promises to return to those roots.
The property dates to the earliest period of Hampton’s colonial history and includes two of the Town’s prominent families, the Kingsburys and the Stedmans. Records held at the Town of Windham show that Thomas Stedman purchased the property from Nathaniel Kingsbury in 1731, and the parcel had a dwelling house. Thus the location has been a farm for over 300 years.
The property at 91 Old Kings Highway belongs to Rob and Ann Miller now, though it seems as though we only recently started calling it Frank Postemski’s place, as it was known to us as Denny’s for as long as I remember, and for those few whose memories reach even further, it’s still the Schmeelks, the family who once farmed there. And one member of the Schmeelk family can tell us not only of the long ago farm, but she describes her life there in verse — Doris Schmeelk Buck, who is 94 years old and lives in neighboring Coventry. Her niece, Pauline Wrzesien, is a little closer. She is the friendly face in the Building Department at Town Hall where she serves as Clerk. We only recently discovered that her maternal roots are here, and she knows quite a bit about them, too.
William and Myra Schmeelk operated a typical Hampton farm. The family raised crops and animals: cows, chickens, horses and geese. The children helped milk the cows, feed the chickens and collect their eggs. Farm chores were largely dependent on the age of the child, with older children assigned skilled roles and younger ones relegated to less strenuous tasks, like laundry. Regardless of their ages, everyone weeded the gardens, where corn, potatoes and other vegetables grew, an assignment they claimed to “hate”. Planting and harvesting would also be crucial seasons. The Schmeelk children lived in an era of rural America when the responsibilities of the farm dictated the calendar and the clock, and children were expected to help.
And there were plenty of children to help – eleven — as a matter of fact. Elizabeth, Jack, Henry, Raymond, Teddy, Florence, Margaret, Doris, Albert, Dorothy and Marion. Pauline says that her mother, Marion, and her sisters, Libby and Peggy, were known as the “Three Musketeers” for their antics. Peggy Fox remembers Doris and Dot and Marion from school. Together Lucille Gunther, Marion Schmeelk and Peggy Fox formed another threesome. Peggy confirms, “Marion was a lot of fun.” She also recalls, not as fondly, the Schmeelk’s dog, a German shepherd named Boots, who was very protective of their property.
Pauline also shared some of the stories she heard from members of her family of farm life in Hampton. Of the potato patch on the hill, and the potato wagon their father hauled to the top to transport the potatoes and the children, equipped with a brake and navigated with a rope – the oldest children steering while the younger ones looked side to side calling directions. The shortest route to the barnyard was over the wooden bridge that crossed the brook, but when it was flooded, the children were supposed to travel all the way around on the road, a route that seemed far too long, and so down the slope they went, over the bridge, right into the barnyard with the evidence of their misdeeds in the form of mud. There was swimming in the Little River in the summer and becoming covered with leeches. Those of us who went swimming in the pooled places can attest to the presence of bloodsuckers. But for those who believe that the presence of the bobcat here is relatively new, think again. A bobcat followed the Schmeelk children home from school every afternoon, walking on the stonewall alongside of them. One of the older brothers escorted them with a shot gun – just in case, but he never had to use it. The bobcat never harmed them. Other memories of the Bell School are dearer, and formed the basis of a poem Doris wrote for which she won a national award and which we will publish in September when we revisit our one room school houses.
Doris Schmeelk Buck has written a poem especially for this issue of the Gazette, “The House on the Hill”, handwritten in a steady script, a lovely cursive. She has also recorded some remembrances: “A big dining room with a long table to hold all of us. High chairs for the little ones. A big fire place to toast marshmallows. Me, when little, a tall black pair of shiny shoes on the mantle above the fireplace. I wanted to wear them. Mom said — wait. So, when she went out to get clothes off of the clothesline, I walked outside into the snow and got my shoes wet. She took me inside and put my new shoes on me. I walked all over, looking at them on my feet. We had a piano and a guitar and a violin to play together. Played card games and checkers and chess. We all helped keep the house on the hill clean.”
How can we account for the recollections which remain with us throughout our lives? For images which linger, for whatever the reason, in broad strokes and in minute details? And yet, we all have these, places we remember as though we were just there, moments we recall as though they occurred yesterday. And that is what Doris shares – memories which have survived for nearly a century on the tapestry of a family’s life.
Fast forward to the future and Ann and Bob Miller are reviving the farm with necessary repairs and, of course, animals — cows, horses, and sheep, and crops — apple orchards and hay fields. Of their four farms, this property is their current priority, with the overall objective of maintaining farm land and farm life here in Hampton. What a blessing — to have this farm preserved, and its memories as well in words and in verse.
“The House on the Hill”
A beautiful eleven room one
Up at dawn, work and fun.
Always on the exciting run.
To get everything done.
Collecting potato bugs in cans out in the field,
Hand picking off of plants until none.
Fun things: two sisters in a truck
Driving over a bridge in the meadow
And up the hill
To the farm house on the hill,
Laughing, stalled truck on the top.
Riding horseback in the fields,
Racing with them to see who yields.
Jumping the brook on horse bareback
Off in the brook, a big splash
And a good fun and laugh.
Two sisters driving old cars in the field
To learn how to drive over bumps,
Fun and laughter fills the air.
Back to work until night fall,
What a wonderful time at the house on the hill,
Year after year until all left to go to live
Somewhere else, near and far.
Eating cookies from a jar,
While I remember the house on a hill.
Doris Schmeelk Buck