Henry Stevens b. April 25, 1890- d. 1981
Excerpts from an Interview by Paul S. Shaw, MD.
Summer 1978
Place: Concord and Salisbury
Published in “They Said It in Salisbury” by Paul S. Shaw, MD.
Location: Smith Corners to Scribners Corner, now the flood plain by the old A.C. Pettingill house
Paul Shaw- “We (Henry and Paul) are driving along from Smith’s Corner to Scribner’s Corner. We have just gone by where the girl…what was the story on that?”
Henry- “The hurricane (tornado of 1821) that came through Warner Gore…the hurricane took the building up. She was a baby and was in bed. And it carried the mattress she was on quite a distance out in the field, and she landed unhurt. When she grew up, married, and moved over there, (A.C. Pettigill’s house. She was the mother of Mrs. E.C. Currier, who lived back on the other side of the road”.
The winged messenger of death, which bore down through Warner on that fatal September day of 1821, was a tornado, and so let it hereafter be forever known.
The day and hour when this visitation occurred, in Warner, was Sunday, September 9, 1821, about five o’clock in the afternoon. The 8th and 9th were warm days: the latter was sultry. About five o’clock, a black cloud was observed to rise rapidly in the northwest, and to bear south-easterly, illumined in its course by incessant flashes of lightning. There was a most terrifying commotion in the cloud itself, which gave warning of fearful desolation. A high wind prevailed as far back as Lake Champlain, but the tornado acquired no destructive force till it passed over the Grantham mountains. In Croydon, the house of Deacon Cooper was shattered, and his barn, with its contents, was entirely swept away. No other buildings were directly in its narrow path till it nearly reached Sunapee Lake. Here, it came in contact with the farm and buildings of John Harvey Huntoon, of Wendell, now Sunapee. There were eight people in the house. They had beheld the frightful appearance of the cloud; had seen the air before it filled with birds, and broken limbs of trees, and rubbish of all kinds; but there had not been much time for reflection or for seeking safety. The tornado, after a moment’s warning, was upon them, and the house and the two barns were instantly prostrated to the ground. A broadside of the house fell upon Mr. Huntoon and his wife, who were standing in the kitchen. The next moment, it was blown off and dashed to pieces. Mrs. Huntoon was swept at least ten rods from the house. A child eleven months old was sleeping on a bed in the west room: the dress it wore was soon after found in the lake, a hundred and fifty rods from the house. The child could not be found. The Wednesday following, its mangled body was picked up on the shore of the lake, whither it had floated on the waves. The bedstead on which the child was sleeping was found in the woods, eighty rods from the house, northerly, and clear out of the general track of the cyclone. The other seven people of the household were injured, but none of them died. Every tree on a forty-acre lot of woodland was levelled to the ground. A bureau was blown across the lake. A horse was dashed against the rocks and killed.
The tornado passed across Sunapee Lake, drawing up into its bosom vast quantities of water. New London suffered a loss of property estimated at $9,000. Eight or ten barns, five or six houses, and many outbuildings were entirely or partially destroyed in that town. From New London, the tornado passed across the northern part of Sutton, cutting a swath through the forests, which is visible to this day, but coming in contact with no buildings. It then bore up the northwest side of Kearsarge Mountain, apparently in two columns. In pitching down over the mountain into the Gore, the two columns merged into one and came with crushing force. The thunder rolled fearfully, the forked lightning flashed on the dark background, and the flood was driven with the gale. In this valley, between the two spurs of the mountain, stood seven dwelling-houses. The tornado first struck the barn of William Harwood, and demolished that; passing onward, its outer limits came in contact with the houses of M. F. Goodwin, James Ferrin, and Abner Watkins. All of these houses were damaged: Ferrin’s barn was destroyed, and Watkins’s was unroofed. Next in the line of march stood Daniel Savory’s house. Hearing a frightful rumbling in the heavens, Mr. Samuel Savory, aged 72, the father of the proprietor (who was away), hastened upstairs to close the windows. The woman started to his assistance, when the house whirled and instantly rose above their heads, while what was left behind—timbers, bricks, etc.,—almost literally buried six of the family in the ruins. The body of the aged Samuel Savory was found at a distance of six rods from the house, where he had been dashed against a stone and instantly killed. His wife was severely injured. Mrs. Daniel Savory was fearfully bruised on the head, arms, and breast, and an infant which she held in her arms was killed. The house of Robert Savory stood very near this place, and that, also, was utterly demolished. Mrs. Savory and the children (six in number) were buried together under the bricks and rubbish. Some of them were severely injured, but none were killed. Not only the houses, but the barns and outbuildings at the two Savory places, were utterly cleaned out. Not one stone was left upon another. Trees, fences, shingles, the legs, wings, and heads of fowls filled the air. Crops were swept off clean; stones partly buried in the earth were overturned; trees of every description were denuded of their branches, or twisted off at the trunk, or torn up by the roots. There were twenty-four hives of bees at the Robert Savory place—perhaps the property of both families- these were swept out of sight in an instant. The ground was sweetened with honey for half a mile, but no hive and no sign of a bee has since been seen. The Savorys and Abner Watkins had caught a noble old bear on the mountain, and had chained him to a sill of Robert Savory’s barn, intending to exhibit him at the muster, which occurred on the 10th day of September, back of George Savory’s present house. Though the barn was destroyed to its foundation, the sill to which the bear was chained, being a cross-sill and bedded into the ground, remained in its place, and the bear was unhurt. But he was not exhibited the next day on the muster field.
John Palmer, who lived up to the eastward of the Savorys a third of a mile, saw the terrible cloud, in shape like an inverted tunnel. He saw the air filled with leaves, limbs, quilts, clothing, crockery, and almost every conceivable thing. He heard the ominous rumbling and sprang to enter the house to flee, with his wife, to the cellar. He got the door partly open when the house gave way, burying Mrs. Palmer under the rubbish and inflicting serious injuries. In this valley between the hills, everything in the direct course of the tornado was rooted out. Bridges made of logs were scattered in every direction, timbers being thrown to the right and left, and even to the rear, as well as to the front.
The tornado passed over the next spur of the mountain, two and a half miles, and then bore down on the houses of Peter Flanders in Warner, and of Dea. Joseph True, just on the edge of Salisbury. [Peter Flanders was the father of True and Oliver Flanders, the latter of whom occupies the old homestead.] Dea. True was the father-in-law of a Mr. Jones. Jones and his wife were on a visit to True’s. Being at the door, they were apprised of the danger, and they called out lustily to the family to seek refuge as best they could. The buildings were whirled aloft and torn into fragments, falling around the family like missiles of death, but no one at the house was killed outright. The buildings of Mr. Flanders, also, were scattered like chaff, the violence of the gale being unabated. Anna Richardson, an elderly woman living with Flanders, and a child of the latter, were crushed to death. Several others were grievously wounded, one of whom (a child of Mr. True’s) died a short time afterwards.
From here, the remarkable cyclone passed over Bagley’s pond, drawing up vast sheets of water from its surface, and, after destroying the house of Mr. Morrell at the Boscawen line, it lifted itself into the heavens and vanished.
The history of Warner, New Hampshire: for one hundred and forty-four years, from 1735 to 1879 by Walter Harriman, Concord, N.H.: 1879, pages 320-32
There is reason to believe that one or several victims may be buried in the Watson Cemetery which is located in Salisbury on the slopes of Mt. Kearsarge
From Dearborn”s History of Salisbury excerpt pg 418
Similar to Warner Historical Society report
The tornado passed across Sunapee lake, drawing up into its bosom vast quantities of water. New London suffered a loss of property estimated at $9,000. Eight or ten barns, five or six houses, and many outbuildings were entirely or partially destroyed in that town. From New London the tornado passed across the northerly part of Sutton, cutting a swath through the forests which is visible to this day; but it did not come in contact with any buildings. It bore up on the northwest side of Kearsarge mountain, apparently in two columns. In pitching down over the mountain into the Gore, the two columns merged into one, and came crushing along with renewed force. The thunders rolled fearfully, the forked lightning flashed on the dark background, and the flood was driven with the gale. In this valley, between the two spurs of the mountain, stood seven dwelling-houses. The tornado first struck the barn of William Harwood, and demolished that; passing onward, its outer limits came in contact with the houses of M. F. Goodwin, James Fcrrin, and Abner Watkins. All these houses were damaged. Ferrin’s barn was destroyed, and Watkins’s unroofed. The late Stephen N. Ferrin, of Warner, said that on a fence were a flock of turkeys more than half grown, about fifteen in number. These were caught up and whirled away, and no trace of any one of them could ever be found, neither feathers nor anything else. Next in the line of march stood Daniel Savory’s house. Hearing a frightful rumbling in the heavens, Mr. Samuel Savory, aged seventy-two, the father of the proprietor (who was away), hastened up stairs to close the windows. The women started to his assistance, when the house whirled and instantly rose above their heads, while what was left behind, timbers, bricks, etc., almost literally buried six of the family in the ruins. The body of the aged Samuel Savory was found at a distance of six rods from the house, where he had been dashed against a stone and instantly killed. His wife was severely injured. Mrs. Daniel Savory was fearfully bruised in the head, arms and breast, and an infant she held in her arms was instantly killed. The house of Robert Savory stood very near this place, and that also was utterly demolished. Mrs. Savory and the children, six in number, were buried together under the bricks and rubbish. Some of them were severely injured, but none killed. Not only the houses, but the barns and outbuildings at the two Savory places, were utterly cleaned out; not one stone was left upon another. Trees, fences, hay, grain, boards, shingles, the legs, wings and heads of fowls filled the air. Crops were swept off clean; stone walls were thrown down, and stones partly buried in the earth were upturned. Trees of every description were denuded of their branches, twisted off at the trunk, or torn up at the roots. There were twenty-five hives of bees at the Robert Savory place, perhaps the property of both families; these were swept out of sight in an instant. The ground was sweetened with honey for half a mile, but no hive and no sign of a bee was ever afterwards seen. The Savorys and Abner Watkins had caught a noble old bear on the mountain, and had chained him to a sill of Robert Savory’s barn, intending to exhibit him at the muster which was to occur on the ioth of September, back of George Savory’s house. Though the barn was entirely destroyed to its foundation, the sill to which the bear was chained, being a cross sill, and sunk into the ground, remained in its place, and the bear was unhurt, but he had the good sense not to show himself on the muster field the next day.
Joseph Palmer, who lived up to the eastward of the Savorys a third of a mile, saw the cloud, in shape like a tunnel inverted, and the air filled with leaves, limbs, shrubbery, quilts, beds, clothing, crockery, and almost every conceivable thing. He heard the ominous rumbling, and sprang to enter the house, with the purpose of fleeing with his wife to the cellar. lie got the door but partly open when the house gave way, burying Mrs. Palmer under the debris, and inflicting upon her serious injuries. In this valley between the hills, everything in the direct course of the tornado was rooted out. Bridges made of logs were scattered in every direction, timbers being thrown to the right and left, and even to the rear, as well as to the front.
The tornado passed on over the next spur of the mountain, two and a half miles, and then bore down upon the houses of Peter Flanders, in Warner, and Deacon Joseph True, in Salisbury. Peter Flanders was the father of True and Kben Inlanders, the latter of whom occupied the old homestead in 1880. Deacon True was the father-in-law of a Mr. Jones. Jones and his wife were on a visit to True’s. Being at the door, they were apprised of the danger, and called out lustily to the family to seek refuge as best they could. The buildings were whirled aloft and torn into fragments, falling around the family like missiles of death; but no one at thje house was killed outright. The buildings of Mr. Flanders were also scattered like chaff, the violence of the gale being unabated. Anna Richardson, an elderly woman calling on Mrs. Flanders, and a child of the latter, were crushed to death. Several others were grievously wounded, one of whom, a child of Mr. True, died of its injuries a short time afterwards. From here this remarkable cyclone passed on over Tucker’s pond, drawing up vast sheets of water from its surface, and after destroying the house of Mr. Morrill, near Poscawen line, in Salisbury, it lifted itself into the heavens and vanished.
Peter Flanders says that this day the family had been baking, and the bricks were hot, and the chimney falling on three of the children, so injured one of them, a girl, that she died that night, and so burned another, a boy aged five years, about the legs that the sores caused thereby did not fully heal for seven years, and he was made a cripple through life. The third child was uninjured. At the time the tornado struck Peter Flanders’s house he was standing at the west of the chimney by the jamb and close to the cellar door. His son True was standing in front of the fire-place. The child Phebe was asleep on the bed, and Mrs. Flanders and Mrs. Richardson were east of the chimney. The building being borne completely away, Mr. Flanders was found with his feet partly down the cellar stairs, partially paralyzed, from which shock he did not recover for some six months. The son, True, was thrown into the fire-place (the fire being out after dinner) and was not injured. The girl, Phebe, (now Mrs. Augustus Pettengill) was carried with the feather bed and dropped some rods from the house, and one arm was broken. Mrs. Flanders was thrown to the floor and Mrs. Richardson on top of her, and a large stick of timber was found upon Mrs. Richardson. Her arms and legs were broken, and she sustained other injuries, from which she died in half an hour. Mrs. Flanders was the daughter of Jabez and sister of Joseph True, and was so badly injured about the head that she never recovered. Mrs. Richardson resided over a mile away on the road to the Gore, and was at this house for milk.
The amount of damage suffered by this tornado was appraised to each, and a subscription in the several towns was raised for their relief, as will appear by the following bill and subscription list. It will be seen that the greatest sufferers were the two Savorys, in Warner, and the Trues, father and son, in Salisbury; and that Joseph True was the greatest individual sufferer.
In 1869, General Walter Harriman addressed a mass meeting in Pairiesville, Ohio. At its close an old gentleman, whose form was bent with age, and whose head was bowed with sorrow, came forward and made himself known as Mr. Huntoon, the father of the child that was destroyed in Wendell, N. H., in the tornado of 1821. He had left the shores of Sunapee and the devastated track of the tornado fifty years before, and made him a home in Ohio. Soon after this meeting with General Harriman, he escaped from the storms and the blasts of this life, and went to a land of peace and safety.
SUFFERERS IN SALISBURY.
The following is the list of subscriptions for the relief of the sufferers by the tornado in Salisbury: