The Stovers (1869-1916)

This is Nathan E. and Everlin Stover standing in what it now our driveway. I love this picture. They lived in our house from 1869-1916, when Everlin died. I have found out a little bit of information about them online and have found items in the house that belonged to them. Nathan was a Union soldier. I am struck by how long he was enlisted.

Nathan E. Stover of Company A, born in Bowdoin, Me., but a resident of South Newmarket, aged 28; enlisted August 15, 1862, and was mustered in as a private August 28, 1862; mustered out June 4, 1865. Has since resided in Exeter.

After the war, Nathan became an iron moulder and worked for the Portsmouth Navy Yard. He and his son Fred, also an iron moulder, were listed on the Providence Rhode Island census at one point as well, having gone there for work.

While taking out the ceiling of our dining room it became evident that the room above had been the Stover's workroom.
They must have been rolling over in their graves every time something came falling out of the ceiling that they had lost a hundred years ago.



Nathan was, at some point after the war, a broom maker. Here is his business card.



Medicine bottles, a piece of leather, suspender thingy, hair pomade container, top of a bell, bottom of a bottle, wooden matches, an envelope with Stover on it, and finally, a piece of broom making material (far right).

Everlin might have been a seamstress. Dozens of pieces of fabric came out of the ceiling along with buttons, spools, scissors and a wire frame used for making the neck part of a dress.



Nathan and Everlin had a son named Fred and a daughter named Bessie. Bessie was most likely born in this house and would have grown up here. I found this picture of her on ebay. It happened to be labeled on the back with her name and the date the photo was taken (1891). She would have been 16 here. She married Edmund Wentworth in 1894 and died in 1940.

Bessie Eaton Stover

The paper here also came out of the ceiling. I wonder if it was written down by Bessie. It is a song called, "The Birds Awakening," published in 1860.

What gentle murmur, / Springs from the verdure, / Where leaflets quiver, / And in the air! / All now is wondrous brilliant and glorious ... It goes on, but you get the picture.

Written by Kerry Baldridge