✍🏼 Letters From Greenwood: September–October 1885 – Harvests, Gatherings, and a Father’s Wish to Be Remembered

Letters From Greenwood

Family, farm life, and everyday stories from 1880s rural New York

When Emily Brewster married George Lisk in 1872, she left her hometown of Greenwood behind and began her new life nearly ninety miles away in Varick. Her father, William Brewster, made sure she never felt too far from home. His letters, often funny, sometimes poignant, carried the heartbeat of Greenwood—news of family, neighbors, chores, and even gossip—keeping Emily connected to the people and place she loved.

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Letter Transcription

Sept 18, 1885

Mrs. Emily Lisk

Romulus NY

Your letter came to hand soon after you wrote. I wish you had waited till you had threshed unless you will write again soon I want to know about your crops, we are very busy with our oats and buck wheat, and then there is a traveling saw mill here down at the Conly Creek Saw and Lumber for Johnny Porter and Jefferson and Jefferson has to work there some too. So you see there is not any too many days in the week I've had have had a long ---- long spell of wet weather which have plagued us a great deal and done damage too. I went day before yesterday to Israel Dildine’s to a birthday party for your Uncle Anson.He was 73 years old the day was bright and very body busy so your Uncle Anson, Mary, Cole, Eliza Dildine, and myself with all that sat down to dinner so we were not to disturb with the noise of children or of having to listen to a dozen people all talking at one time. If I could have somehow brought you there for a few hours I think that I would have done so. Margaret, David, William, and Milton came last Saturday and made us a visit. They have had the whooping cough but are getting over it now. Jane had been to visit them and come on foot and stood the walk first-rate. Mort wants her to sell out, perhaps he wants some of the money to carry in his pocket. Beecher Mead has gone to Oregon to teach school at $65 per month. Who can tell where some Greenwood boy does not go.

21st your Uncle Edward is quite sick with bowel complaint. We hope that he will soon be better. Your Uncle Anson has a cough and is very weak and he say that it is not a cold that he has. Well that's what it is, can it be approaching consumption if so then the old ones of the Brewsters may think that the number may soon be some less time will tell. Some people said that Jefferson built too large a barn on the Cook lot. But if they were to look in the barn now and see what is in and what is to go in yet they might think differently. I went to Silas Brewster's yesterday and saw their little boy -- a little chap about 3 weeks old in about 4 pounds big or little whichever it may be.

23rd Yesterday afternoon we had a thunderstorm with sharp flashes of lightning and heavy thunder. This morning the ground was white with snow. I shall look for a killing frost to come soon we have had some frost but not severe. Ida’s sister is here on a visit with her four little boys. If your boys were here now to we would have all the play and noise that we should need. Tressa is not so large or so old but that she can make some noise yet. She can play on the Melodane and that is more pleasant than to hear her play with children. Perhaps she may not think so.

24th Did you see the eclipse last night or this morning. I did but the clouds was this side of the moon and they did not give me a very good chance so I had to be contented with one good look and then hurry back to bed and get warm as soon as I could. Your Uncle Edward is slowly getting better.

25th I am alone this afternoon. Ida and her sister has gone to and over on foot. There will be a donation here next Tuesday evening and they are on that business today. The children are all away to the men in the buck wheat field or at the mill or both. The freeze that I look for did not come so the corn has a little longer time to get ripe.

28th We are getting ready for the donation it will be here tonight instead of Tuesday evening. The women have been in a flutter all day some like the hen with her head cut off. You ought to see what they have done. They got the maple leaves and bushes fix them up here and there and almost everywhere. Now be careful and don't flutter yourself for there may be enough of it here.

29th Well we had the fluttering last night the crowd was too large to count them there were many that I knew and lots I did not know. People brought baskets of cake and other things that was good to eat and then there was cards or tickets given to the men who pay $0.25 for the baskets and tickets to the ladies. Each lady to eat her supper with the man whose tickets matched her ticket. No one knew who's cooking they were eating. John Hartman and his wife was the only ones that eat with their own mates. There was lots of noise and plenty of music. Results $20 for the preacher. I guess that you can guess about what a time we had last night. I got a letter from Frankie Shaw and he says that he has got to be a large boy now. Maybe he is or thinks he is he said he and Eddie help thrush their oats and that they had 477 bushels and that they are cutting their corn now. How soon the boys grow up. Daniel Failing is quite a bit larger than I and William may be as heavy, as most is tall and Freddy. I can't tell you how big he is and if I should you would not know for certain for I could not tell how much he might grow while the letter would be going to you. So you will have to resort to guessing and after guessing closest you can guess that I might guess that your guess was a poor guess after all.

October 2nd You may be getting tired of waiting for a letter but the trouble is to find something to write about so as to fill the sheet. old Mr Ghailger died a few days ago with cancer on the face, and Martin Dixson is said to have cancer on his face too so we may look for his death to sometime. Patsy Boyd has built a new house. I write it so as to get the sheet a little near filled up you may think that you ought to know all the changes that are taking place about here there may be some changes that I may not think of when writing, perhaps deaths too.

October 4th Sunday I am at home and the weather - wet and chilly with very little to write about so fancy pass a lonesome day. Jefferson, Ida, her sister and the two oldest boys are off on a visit some of their relatives.

9th All back from the visit and will go home tomorrow, Change ---- change is ever taking place Visitors today, none tomorrow, next day go somewhere yourself or stay at home and work and think of absent friends, some that you may see again and others that we shall never meet again. Welll there are times to laugh and times to feel sober, times to weep and to rejoice, oh what a time the girls have just had. Made as much noise as 40 Grandpa's and Grandma's would make in a month and now they are quite still again and so it goes.

10th Well the visitors are all gone. How still it is now no noise, no confusion, all quiet all is peace but ---- well there is a lonesome feeling comes and I think of what Alexander Selkirk said about a residence on a far away island -----

O solitude where are thy charms

that sages have seen in thy face

better dwell in the midst of alarms

then reign in this horrible place

And so it goes we love company even if it brings some noise with it. As I write the Melodian is sending forth sweet music. Tressa is taking lessons and sometimes the teacher plays and sings, and then comes the thought that by-and-by she too will be missed and then tthe lonesome feeling will come again. Goodbye for today

W.R. Brewster

19th I have been pretty busy waiting for the threshers to get through we have a steam thresher at work they may get through today. We hope so they thrashed 490 bushels of buckwheat and are at the oats. The music teacher has gone but the flurry of the threshing has prevented The lonesome feeling that might have been experienced from coming and I may escape it entirely. Our school commence today Tressa went but they lacked one man to do the threshing so they took Freddy to fill the place. Emma Brewster is the teacher this time Maggie Hammond has just come for a visit so the lonesome feeling is crowded one side for present. She seems to be well and looks well to if I knew what you would like to have me write I might fill up the sheet more easily but when there is very little to write about it's rather hard to think of anything to write that would be worth reading.

20th Threshing done oats 819 bushels well we will not complain. Potatoes is rotting some rather bad on the damp ground. Well we cannot have everything always favorable so when the sun don't shine we will be pleased with it and when the clouds come we will hope that they will not stay too long. This afternoon the rain has come again or is it some new rain. Maggie has gone up to your aunt Margaret's to make them a visit. How we all would like to visit if it could be done as easily as writing and as cheaply. You can tell George that the reapers are around here as thick as ------as need be. They are talking of getting self binders and probably will pretty soon. Are the binders liked in your section, or are they something new with you, as well as here. Last night the threshers and some callers in was here and we had music by the quantity. There were two violins in the mandolin so we have quite a time for music. O how different it is from what it was 50 years ago. Then families had no instruments of music except very rarely and what would now be thought very little of.

26th 71 years old today how fast the years go by how few more of them shall I be here to note their rapid flight or to pen a line to my children and how few more of then can each one receive. Possibly this might be the last that you may ever get of my writing. we will hope for more we will wait and see. I should like you to lay my letters carefully away for you and your children to read after I am gone to the grave. We do not like to think that we should be forgotten that no one will recall us to their minds or ever speak of us to others. Such a time will come but we don't want it to get to come very soon.

29th Rain again saw mill done sawing. Will move away as soon as weather will permit and teams can be got to take it away. We can soon sing happy day happy day when saw mill men go march away. There is no dissatisfaction with the men but an extra amount of work to be done while they are sawing and the farm work has to wait and winter won't wait. Rain or shine teams come after lumber and they must be attended to. So Jefferson have to go and leave other work. Suppose you try my way of writing a few lines every few days and see if it will suit you any better. I think it will suit me well enough. Sarah came here last night on her way to Susan and will go on today. So I will send this on with her. If you have gone home she will send this on to your place. I hope she will get to Susan's before you go home. Well write as soon as you can for I want to hear from as soon as I can.

W.R. Brewster

Reflection

This remarkable letter feels less like a single message and more like a diary that William folded into an envelope for Emily. He added to it over the course of six weeks, capturing both the bustle of farm life and the quieter moments of reflection.

On the practical side, William reports on threshing oats and buckwheat, building barns, and the work of the traveling sawmill. He shares news of family milestones: Uncle Anson’s 73rd birthday, Margaret’s children recovering from whooping cough, and the arrival of Silas Brewster’s tiny newborn. He describes community events in detail—especially the lively donation supper where baskets of food were auctioned off and paired with strangers, raising twenty dollars for the preacher.

But woven into all this activity is William’s reflective, sometimes poetic voice. After the noise of visitors, he quotes Alexander Selkirk on solitude, musing on the balance between company and loneliness. He marvels at the rise of household music—violins, mandolins, melodians—so different from the silence of fifty years before. And on his seventy-first birthday, he pauses to think about the passage of time, the certainty of mortality, and his wish that Emily and her children would save his letters:

“Lay my letters carefully away for you and your children to read after I am gone to the grave. We do not like to think that we should be forgotten… Such a time will come but we don’t want it to come very soon.”

In these words, William reveals something timeless: the desire to be remembered, to have one’s voice carried forward beyond a single lifetime. More than a century later, his wish is fulfilled. By keeping and sharing these letters, his descendants—Emily’s children, grandchildren, and now you—have done exactly what he hoped. His stories, humor, and reflections live on, not only as a record of Greenwood in the 1880s, but as part of the enduring thread of family memory.