Excerpt from Henry S. Nourse’s “History of the Town of Harvard Massachusetts 1732–1893,” written in 1894.
About the beginning of the century, it was a whim of the times to tag persons and places with quaint nicknames. Many of these, first attached by some rude witling, caught the popular fancy, and clung so closely to the victims that citizens more or less worthy walked among their fellows all their lives almost unknown by their baptismal names.
Oddity of feature, habit, dress or speech was quite sure to win some sobriquet; but no man, however unobtrusive and well-rounded in person or character, was exempt.
Some salience would be found on which to fasten a tag securely, and not necessarily a descriptive one. The “Old Rake” of Still River was a dignified and entirely reputable gentleman, with no undue leaning to gallantry. “Fool Ben” was as wise as the average Benjamin; and “Wicked Bill” was one of the best of men. The “Commodore” had never trod a quarter deck, but was plain Ben. Bridge until the Constitution and Bainbridge became household words and gave him his nautical title.
“Mac” had neither Irish nor Scotch blood in his veins. The “Old Jew” had nothing Mosaic about him but his beard. “Deacon Dummit” didn’t belong to the church, but used a stereotyped form of oath. A ruling patriarch in the Sawyer family was known as the “Governor,” and a worthy Atherton as “Gent.”
Levi Willard, who was prone to boasting about his responsibilities as a town functionary, was dubbed “Old Public Business.” One of a numerous family was distinguished from his cousins as the “Pig-eyed Pollard.” A humpbacked Darby answered to the name of “Bunker Hill.” One of the Reeds was known as “Dumpy.” A prosperous and benignant Willard was everybody’s “Uncle Abel,” and another, whose plain penmanship fills many a page of the town’s records, was honored as “Old Clark Bill” to his dying day.
Family traits and perversities were often summed up in a pregnant phrase or epithet. One or two of these are of so disrespectful a tone that to reproduce them on this page might offend some sensitive descendant; but none can object to “Wilful Wilder, Laughing Joslins, Wrestling Carters, and Whistling Whitcombs.”
The most honorable designation in the endless list was that given Joseph Willard, Jr., a sweet-natured and soft-spoken man, who believed ill of none, and was constantly laboring as a peacemaker among quarrelsome neighbors. His title of “Smoothing Plane” is no unworthy epitaph, for he made smooth rough places in many lives.
275 Years of a Town: In June 1732, the town of Harvard incorporated within the colony, after nearly 100 years of settlement in the area and several years of petitions, objections, and re-petitions to the legislature. To celebrate this milestone, the Press is running extracts from Henry S. Nourse’s History of the Town of Harvard Massachusetts 1732–1893.