W.W. Bishop and Alma Jagger Married

Brooklyn Eagle 26 June 1915

The Unbeliever's Prayer

--> 19 Apr 1949 Frank Boydon to JH

The Unbeliever's Prayer

by John Gunther Jr.

Forgive me for my agnosticism;

For I shall try to keep it gentle, not cynical,
Nor a bad influence.

And O!
If thou art truly in the heavens,
Accept my gratitude
For all thy gifts
And I shall try
To fight the good fight. Amen.

John Gunther, Jr., a student at Deerfield Academy, died in 1949 at the age of 17 from a brain tumor.  

My Best Friend

Jesse Halsey | c1933

My best friend embodies a quality that is rare in friendship. He happens to be a New England Puritan and his practice could be summer up in a verse from an Old Book; i.e., “He that hath friends must show himself friendly;” which is obvious truth, I take it, for any kind of a friendship. But, the unusual quality that my best friend possesses beyond most of my friends, is expressed in this verse: “Faithful are the wounds of a friend.” In other words, my best friend speaks very plainly about my short-comings.

Often we disagree in matters of opinion. He is, for example, a Capitalist. I am, to use his language, a “half-baked Socialist.” We talk things over, disagree and then agree to disagree. Political or religious difference never seem to make any difference and these are I suppose the most severe tests of any ordinary acquaintanceship, or even friendship.

My friend will come in, talk for twenty minutes and then say, very casually, something like this: “You’ve been doing too many things lately; better concentrate a little.” Or, on anther occasion, “You’re too diffuse—boil your stuff down.” Sometimes I get mad, but only temporarily. Nine times out of ten he’s right, and eventually I do the things he suggests.

And this is a give and take matter. Otherwise, I suppose, our friendship would have broken long since. The other day he said to me, “You know, I take stuff from you that I wouldn’t take from anybody else.” I hinted that it was mutual, and we went on to the next thing.

William Woolley Bishop

Southampton Press | Friday, Aug. 31, 1945

The many friends of William Woolley Bishop will be saddened to know of his death from cerebral hemorrhage on Monday morning, August 27, 1945. He was born June 2, 1890, the only son of James and Carrie [Carolina Harmenia] Corwith Bishop. His family has been identified with Southampton village and the Presbyterian Church here since the days of the founding of the town. A graduate of Southampton High School and Amherst College 1912, he decided to follow the land instead of the sea—a decision all East End Long Island boys have had to make in the past.

After his marriage to Alma, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. James Madison Jagger, he and his wife made their home on Clearview Farm in the North End. Their children are James Corwith, Helen, wife of Capt. Thomas H. White, Jr., Alma, and Jane. Their grandchildren are Susan Ann White and James C. Bishop, Jr. Mr. Bishop was an elder in the Presbyterian Church, a former superintendent of the Sunday School, a director of the Long Island Association of the Federal Land Bank, a member of the Southampton Golf Club and of the Chi Phi Fraternity.

He was typically of our American way of life—genial, unassuming, deeply grounded in ways of truth, fairdealing, and hospitality. Today we pause in sorrow that he must leave us, but with our eyes fixed upon the goal that has always been his goal—faith in the immortal life. His life long friend, Rev. Jesse Halsey, came to share the memorial service with his pastor, Rev. James N. Armstrong, Jr., in the church of his fathers.

“Our God, our help in ages past,

Our hope for years to come,

Be though our guide while life shall last

And our eternal home.”

A.F.H.

When Summer Camps Were For The Whole Family

Bishop's Tower at Shinnecock

The East Hampton Press & The Southampton Press

By Heather Girgent

The word “camp” is more often used to describe a place where parents can send their children during the summer to enjoy various activities away from home.

However, in the early 1900s there was an entirely different meaning of the word “camp” for many Southampton residents. At that time, it was fairly common for local businessmen, farmers and other middle-class families who lived in the village to build small, simple structures close to the bay, which became a sort of summer escape, a camp they could enjoy with their families.

The Southampton Historical Museum will present an “Escape to the Bay: Family Camps in Southampton” exhibit, featuring several of these historic camps, opening on Saturday, August 18.
Exhibit curator and museum advisory committee member Hilary Woodward said she took up an interest in the history of these camps about seven years ago.

“I felt that this was a story that should not be forgotten,” she said during a telephone interview last Thursday. “The history was being lost and I really wanted to document it before it was too late.”
Ms. Woodward’s vested interests in the history of these camps may have something to do with her own fond memories of summer days spent on the bay.

“I’m a Herrick and my family was one of the families that owned a camp, so this was a culture I knew about,” she said. “I remember enjoying scalloping, clamming and having clambakes on the beach. It was a real simple, fun way that people spent their summers and the exhibit really celebrates that.”

Ms. Woodward’s family camp was called “Whalebone” and was built by her grandfather, John Austin Herrick, the second generation owner of Herrick Hardware on Main Street in Southampton.
The Herrick camp, located on Noyac Bay, was sold in 1959 to Justice Robert Kendrick and his family when Ms. Woodward was just 5 years old. The Kendricks sold Whalebone just a few years ago, and according to Ms. Woodward, it was just recently torn down.

At the start of her research, Ms. Woodward visited a few other original camp owners and heard stories about their experiences.

“Those who could remember being children spending their summers in the camps during the 1920s were in their 80s and now, several of them have passed away,” she said. “Their stories and their reminiscences of the camps were disappearing.”

While Ms. Woodward spent time with the families, she was able to gather photos and hear stories about their escape to the bay. She learned that some of these camps were in fact still being used by the families. Others were being sold and would eventually be torn down to open up the land for bigger houses to be built.

According to Ms. Woodward, each of the camps she had the pleasure of learning about had a significant name and were built in such a way that reflected the personality of the owner.

For example, the Halseys’ camp on Peconic Bay. According to Ms. Woodward, Jesse Halsey was a minister in Cleveland and the church was doing renovations, so he brought the doors from the church to Southampton and used them to build his camp in 1946.

The Halsey family’s camp was called “Shiconnic.” Ms. Woodward reported that the family was happily using it up until a few years ago.

Other camps included “The Tower,” a three-story camp built on the highest spot of land owned by the Bishop family. True to its name, The Tower was a strategic structure that allowed the family to see views of the bay and the ocean.

Another, owned by the Alexander family, was built from timber left from Camp Upton, a Long Island-based induction and training facility for new soldiers who were to fight in World War I. The camp, still standing, is appropriately called “War Timber.” It has not been changed since 1918 and the family still uses it, according to Ms. Woodward.

Another family that has no plans to surrender their camp is the Corwin family. According to Susan Corwin Mitchell, her family’s camp has three separate buildings and is located off Millstone Brook Road, at the end of a long driveway, which was originally dirt but is now paved with crushed clamshells the family acquires from their days on the boat.

During a telephone interview last Friday, Ms. Mitchell explained that her grandparents, who lived on North Main Street, built the main camp in 1902. Two other buildings followed later.
When Ms. Mitchell was born, she and her parents lived at the second building on the property, she said. Approximately five years later, they moved to Big Fresh Pond Road.

At that time, the camps used only firewood for heat. So, according to Ms. Mitchell, her father had to dig out an area under the camp for a heating system, in preparation for the family’s arrival. Over time, more improvements were added, including indoor plumbing and electricity. But Ms. Mitchell said she still remembers the time when outhouses and a hand pump were the way.

“I remember my grandpa keeping a jug of water next to the water pump so that if we had to prime it, we could,” she said. “And I remember there was a hurricane one summer but we had gas for the stove and water from the pump, so we could still cook.”

Now living in Florida, Ms. Mitchell said that she makes sure to come up and spend time at the camp several times a year.

“I thought having a camp like that was normal,” she said laughing. “We just walked out the door and went to play in the woods, making tree forts, discovering things and going on the boat clamming and crabbing. My grandpa taught us how to sail there. It was a wonderful experience growing up. We enjoy our camp and plan to have it for generations to come because we feel blessed that we’ve been able to hold on to it this long.”

The exhibit will feature original photos and stories from all of these camps but there will also be a scrapbook wall. According to Ms. Woodward, there are most likely many other families in the area who have a family camp history or memories of a childhood spent on the bay. For that reason, she said, she encourages the community to come in, view the exhibit and bring along any photos they have of having fun at the bay, even if it wasn’t at a camp.

The “Escape to the Bay” exhibit will be on view at Rogers Mansion in Southampton from Saturday, August 18, opening at 4 p.m., through Saturday, November 3. Exhibit hours are from 11 a.m. to 4 p.m. Tuesday through Saturday. Entrance to the exhibit is $4 for adults, and free for members and children. For more information, call 283-2494 or visit southamptonhistoricalmuseum.org.

"and seems to me I’ve been asleep"

[March 1939]

Dear Jess,

I hope you got to Pittsburgh for the Alliance and I hope Helen is better from the grip. Several girls are in the Infirmary with it.

I left a black silk slip and an old bl. felt hat in my closet. If Helen is sick please ask Abbie to wrap that up and send it to me. I need the slip.

I like your Thank You a lot and know Bill had a kick out of it. Had a nice letter from Ibby today. They were well and the kiddies happy. It was her birthday the 24^th—31 years. Boo’s baby had a cold in his ears. He gets them, little lad. Louise gets lonely, but has Vi and Donald Warner near. They have a new daughter. Here is a nice letter from Add you will enjoy reading with news of Ted Kinsey’s marriage. Shy little Ted. He’s done well. I hope he has a wife half as good as Mary was.

I have a dollar to last me till Mar 15—paid too many bills I guess. I need very little but car fares are 10c to Troy and I guess you’d better send me a little. I’ll get paid for my work when I’m through. I can’t work any harder than I do seems to me. I have a pageant written, but it’s not inspired yet and after I talk it over with Miss Kellas shall know better what she wants. And the light will come. I find plenty of sleep is my best preparation—my mind clears and thoughts converge. The eyes are better. I hope your back is and that you are on your feet again and Helen is getting over her grip.

Give my love to Freck. I want you to read right away “Heroes of Thought” buy Middleton Murry an English critic. It is a wonderful book. Miss Potswell is reading it aloud to me. It is very searching. 12 men Chaucer, Shakespere, Cromwell, +. Don’t fail to get it.

I miss you all, but this is a lonely place to be. I’ve just begun my work and am happy in it. I’ve been to a concert tonight.

Bishop Dallas of New Hampshire spoke to our girls Sunday. Such a missionary talk I never heard, gentle and tender and inspiring. Spoke of their church (any church) in which they had been reared, what did it mean to them? What were they going to do about it? Then he told them what other girls had done about it: a girl working in Alaska in a remote mission, another one in Japan in these trying times holding to Christ’s way of love, another in a mountain town in New Hampshire far from R.R. among dire poverty teaching the Christ way. It was beautiful, practical. He was a tall dark man, about 65 I should say, looking—I thought with a pang—what Warren Kinsey might have looked like and been if---.

Yesterday I went out to Albany hospital to see my old friend Blanche Felter (Hieles) who is lying very ill after an operation. We graduated together in Newburgh, again in New Paltz, taught together in Westfield, again in Haverford. Only by the light from her eyes would I have known her. She knew me and said, “How wonderful you came.” Then when the nurse came could not tell her who had brought her the red rose. All life gone by—in a flash, like that—and I doubt if I will see her again. It is all so short, so beautiful, and seems to me I’ve been asleep. Good-night dear—

Ab.

"she is making a man of Chas"

W.W. Bishop

Clearview Farm

Southampton, N.Y.

March 9, ‘39

Dear Jesse,

My daughter makes a terrible fuss every time I write using single spacing and I suppose other people mind it just as much but don’t dare speak up, so I’ll try to remember to keep the double space on. I have been trying to write to you for a month now—but don’t worry I won’t try to write all I’ve thought in this note. First of all, we wall want to thank you for the grand cheese—we use it on every occasion and still wwe have a good size hunk left—I can’t write a poem but we are enjoying it very much just the same.

Last week I had a chance to ride to Baltimore with Oyie (Wiltshire) and spent a day with Helen—she has been having some sinus trouble but is better now—heading south and a bit west made me think of last Spring and wish that I was repeating my visit but guess I’ll have to stick here for the present. Chas brought his family down for the weekend and he tells me that you will be coming east in March and will plan to take time to come out here—we’ll be counting on it and just let me know where you want me to meet you and I’ll be there at the specified time. We did enjoy Cameron so much—he is a little monkey and lots of fun. I tell you there are few girls like Justine—she is making a man of Chas (I always said he’d grow to be a good one some day but she is speeding the process).

Potatoes are almost gone from our farm and we are expecting the new seed in next week and if we get a few dry days we will be plowing: are you going to be sending any messages over the radio to the “Farmers on Eastern LI” at plowing time this year?

Rented the other house finally—very nice people and guess I’ll have to be satisfied with $35 a month—it is better than having the house stand empty and will help pay some of the expense of the properties that Mother and Dad left me; so far they have been mostly expense—there is lots of real value in the things but they don’t pay any dividends now; just finished paying Harri Micah this week, $865—came rather hard out of potatoes at $.72 per bu.

I wish you were a smoker—just discovered a tobacco that is cured with Vermont maple syrup and Jamaica rum—I haven’t used a pipe for years but this is so good that I’m back it hard as ever.

My row boat is already in the water and in commission and I know just where the clam rakes are—all we need now is a little heat in the water and we can go right on where we left off last Summer. I burned off all the paint this year from the boat and have adorned her with a new coat of light gray and green—she’s a bird. The other day I went up to Scallop Pond and tried my luck with boots but only dug out four clams—I never could do anything till I get in nearly to my neck.

Just to make you sore I’ll tell you that “Did” Beeman brought us a good mess of fat long clams today and tonight we are going to have fried crisp with crumbs in deep fat—yum yum.

Must get back to work now and be sure not to let anything interfere with the plants to get out here next time you come east.

Love,

Bill

"where the bays and the ocean are easily available"

Clearview Farm

Southampton, N.Y.

W.W. Bishop

Jan. 25, ‘39

Dear Jess:

It seems ages since I heard from you or anything about you but having followed you around in Cin. I know that you are one busy man and have little time to do the things you like to do yourself. We are having real Winter and no mistake—plenty of snow and all the ponds are frozen—it rained Sunday and last night so that the ponds are clear—this AM the temp. was bout 35 but the wind has been rising steadily and the temp dropping steadily all day till it seems almost like a hurricane and the temp is 24—feels like the side of the house was not there. Guess we’ll have to have a good fire in the potato house tonight. Pot. market is slow and priced dropped to $1.40 per cwt and acts like it would stay there although the crop reports would indicate a higher price. We have taken one load out of the cellar with Jimmy’s conveyor-works swell and Levi and I can do what otherwise would take 4 men. Jim seems more and more interested in his work at Cornell and is now planning to get a job on a big farm in Penn for the Summer—I have advised him that there were lots of things that a Dad could not teach a son and have encouraged his trying for a job away from home—hope it materializes.

Alma is not taking the Winter term course at the school for Social Work and I miss the trips to NY and the other attending excitements. Haven’t seen Chas or family since before Xmas but have had a couple of letters from C.—Alma is getting is auto license in Riverhead today and we expect him out Sunday to get it—think he works all day every Sat. now—hope he brings Justine and Cameron too.

We are having quite a time helping Bob decide between Cornell, St. Lawrence and Middlebury for next year—guess we’ll have to take a trip into Vermont and over to the St. Lawrence valley next Spring, stopping by at Ithaca and let that decide if we don’t get it settled before.

Wish you would send me a tenant for the other house—aren’t there some of your people who would like to get out of the heat in Cin. this Summer that might be interested in a comfortable house that is situated where the bays and the ocean are easily available?

Wish I was going to be with you again this Spring but thank God I have no excuse like last year for getting away from home—it is wonderful to feel alive and not afraid all the time once more.

Write when you can and if you are to be in NY let me know and perhaps I can get in; and if you can spare an extra day, say so, and I’ll be glad to bring you out here.

Love,

Bill

Herrick's Camp - Whalebone Landing, circa 1927

Photo courtesy of Con Crowley, from a collection belonging to his grandfather, Captain Ed White, Jr., a copy of which is also available in the archives of the Southampton Historical Museum and Research Center.