|This history/genealogy was written in 1871 by my (Kathy's) ggg-grandfather
Joel Cook (Jr). Joel Cook was born in Connecticut 27 Dec 1791 and
came to Orwell in 1810.
It would seem that Henry Cook (whom I shall call Henry 1st) came from Kent County, England and settled at Plymouth before 1640.
Henry Ward Beecher’s ancestors were from same county in England. The Cooks, Beechers and Dunbars lived in Hamden and Wallingford, New Haven County, Conn. 100 years ago. Henry Cook 1st had four sons – John, Henry, Samuel and Isaac.
Isaac is supposed to have settled at Plymouth, Mass. John at Middletown, Conn. Henry Cook 2nd and Samuel Cook settled in Wallingford, Conn. And are the ancestors of most of the Cooks in the south part of the state.
Henry Cook 2nd had a son Henry 3rd who settled in Waterbury and admitted as an inhabitant of the place in 1728. He had five children – Ebenezer, Samuel, Henry, Thankful and Jonathan.
Ebenezer, the son of Henry 3rd, settled in Northbury (now Plymouth)
and married Phebe, daughter of Moses Blakeslee, May 10, 1744.
Huldah born April 26, 1745
Joel born Aug. 5, 1746
Justus born May 25, 1748 Justus graduated from Yale College and preached for a while, but a studious life not agreeing with his constitution, he left it for farming.
Jonah born Aug. 11, 1750 served in the Army of the Revolution.
Uri born Oct. 20, 1752
Roswell born May 1, 1755 graduated at Yale and settled at Montville, Conn. Preached there and died of consumption.
Nise born April 17, 1758
Arba born April 4, 1760
Sarinda born Sept. 20, 1761
Joel Cook, son of Ebenezer, married Dinah Dunbar Nov. 17, 1768.
He lived in Plymouth, Conn.
His children were:
Levi born Sept. 17, 1769 drowned Aug. 12, 17?? He was subject to fits, while fishing alone was found in the stream.
Chloe born June 25, 1771 married Emblem Barnes. Died at 75 (95?) years lacking two days.
Zenas born July 7, 1773 died at 77 of lung fever.
Dinah born March 26, 1775 married Eldad Jerome. Died of consumption at 73.
Huldah born Dec. 23, 1777 Died of consumption at 75. She married Truman Johnson.
Uri born Dec. 24, 1779 Married Phebe Barber. Died at 80 years and six months to a day.
Lucy born April 1, 1784 Married John Elden. Died of fever at 60.
Phebe born June 8, 1785 Married Joel Griggs. Died at forty.
Sally born March 17, 1788 Died May 1811 of spotted fever. Was sick
but three or four days. Age 23.
Joel born Dec. 27, 1791 Married Polly Russell May 22, 1814.
My ancestors were of Puritan stock and were true patriots.
My father enlisted for three years in April 1776. The next fall or
one year from the next fall, the divisions of the army in which my father
was, lay near Danbury, Conn. My grandfather sent word to my father
that he would take his place for two months and he might go home and see
his family and tend to business.
Accordingly he went, was accepted, answered to the name of Joel Cook, but before the time was out my grandfather was taken sick with camp distemper (blood flu) and died. Joel Cook was returned dead. This cleared my father from his enlistment but he went right forward, demanded his place in the company and regiment, served his full time, took honorable discharge. I would say that my father served six months at the first breaking out of the war at Boston as a volunteer.
Uncle Uri, my father’s brother, had finished his education and graduated at Yale College and was said to be a person of considerable promise but his patriotism outweighed every other consideration and he joined the army. He would doubtless have been a brave soldier, but God gave him a higher position and he had been in the army but as part time when he was carried off by the camp distemper. My father in speaking of his services would say, “ That he got what he fought for, that he suffered untold trials and hardships, that it set him back many years as to property, injured his constitution. That he fought to help deliver our country from foreign oppression and achieve our independence and give to his children and posterity the blessings of civil, religious liberty and this he obtained.”
I must mention one incident of his soldier life. It was in the valley of Schuylkill, Pa. in the summer season and his great exposure had brought on a fever. He was placed in a barn and a faithful Indian took care of him. He lay in the stable, had some straw to lie on and his knapsack for a pillow. His (fever) ran high and one day the doctor came to see him and gave him to understand that he would be soon gone, did but little for him and went away.
That night the Indian got on the scaffold over the stable and went to sleep. He had no drink and his thirst was intolerable. He could not wake the Indian but his senses were clear, he had a wife and five children at home, what would they do? How would the war terminate? But that God whom he had long served and trusted did not forsake him. He could commit his family and country to Him knowing that the Judge of all the earth would do right. He thought that he had a four ounce vial of liquid camphor in his knapsack. He thought he would try to get it and succeeded. Then he wet his lips with it to allay his thirst but did mot mean to swallow any of it but before he was aware of it he had drank the whole. He now expected that death would immediately ensue but soon found himself in a profuse state of perspiration. His underclothes were completely wet with sweat. The Indian awoke and did what he could for him.
The Doctor came in the morning, felt his pulse and said, “Your fever is entirely gone.” My father says, “You have not removed it but I have.” And then told him what he had done. The Doctor wondered that it had not killed him. Then he thought he might live. He recovered slowly and was soon able to join the army. My father died Sept. 6, 1836 age ninety years and thirty-two days.
My Uncle Roswell was a profound reasoner, seldom, if ever, driven from
his position. My grandfather Dunbar had fifteen children. His
brother had sixteen, ten of whom were daughters that lived to marry.
My grandmother’s name previous to marriage was Hall and now I would say to my descendants, as you are the Puritan stock, see to it that you serve the Puritan God. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, in all wisdom and be ye doers of the word and not hearers only. Sustain civil and religious liberty, live in peace, and the God of peace shall be with you.
|Cyrus Cook (1818-1900)||Caroline Ellsworth (1821-1903).|
To a fair lady I am bound
Caroline Ellsworth is her name.
Her dwelling is on Orwell ground
In Bradford County is the same.
And as it seems to be her fate,
All this is in the Keystone State.
Dear friend: Agreeable to your request
I now myself to you address.
Be as thou art the one in whom
My fond affections seems to bloom.
And calls to mind the many scenes
Which in your absence often gleams.
And tells me of the time we spent
When you and I together went.
And you know we often did
What either of our parents would forbid.
But our youthful days will soon be past
They will sweep away like the northern blast.
And old age is hasting on a pace
Then we shall need a Savior’s grace.
To bear us up in those dread hours
When we become like fading flowers.
When our heads are silvered o’er with age
And long experience has made us sage,
Then we shall look back with pain
Upon our past lives spent in vain.
Our time which we in youthful days
Have spent in wild ambitious ways
Will seem to us as well it may
A time that is spent in a foolish way.
For time ever lost!! Is Lost! To us
Forever lost; And sinks away to dust.
But now an answer I will make
Upon the words which you did take
When you did your mind express
To him who does your heart possess.
The letter which you did convey
Your thought to me so far away.
I suppose you would like to know
When itself to me did show.
It was on Thursday February eight
Which to you I now will state
And I was pleased to hear from you
It brought old times back to my view.
It brought to mind the pleasing hours
Which I have spent within your bowers.
It turned my thought back to the place
Where I so often have seen your face.
And in the thought of you by days
It brought to mind your pleasant ways.
Your memory will forever last
And on my mind a shadow cast.
Which from it can never be erased
As long as I this world embrace.
That soft and sweet melodious voice
Which states to me it has a choice
Is sweeter to me than any sound
That ever yet from man did bound.
But one thing I was surprised to hear
For it seems to me so very queer
That your affections should be inclined
Toward such a wicked heart as mine,
For if I am not mistaken much
You said your affections were such
That if your choice you couldn’t get
A single life for you was yet.
But you had ought to bear in mind
Although together we are inclined
That soon the iron hand of death
May interpose and stop our needful breath.
And then tis plain for you to see
What the others too must be
For then a single life you would have to live
Or to another your heart and hand must give.
And as this appears to be the case
Please don’t your affections too strongly place.
At least don’t let them be so firm
But what you can them to another turn.
But this to you I do not write
To have you! You’re falling slight
Nor do I wish for to convey
The idea to you in any way
That my mind is altered yet
From what it was when last we met.
But impossible it is for me to tell
Whether with you I am to dwell.
Now my time is growing short as you perceive
Which my heart does truly grieve.
For to you not half is said
That would have pleased you for to read
But I my poetic strains must close
And let my mind sink to repose.
As Charles to me sent his respect
The same to him to mind reflect.
Now please inform me in your fair writing
Whatever you think will be delighting
And now I suppose you would like to see my name
Because in this I show so little brain.
And if you will take the pains to look
You will see the name of Cyrus Cook.
I remain your affectious friend
On whom you always may depend.
Yours with all the kind respect
That I can bestow upon your sex.