From The Connecticut River Valley in Southern Vermont and New Hampshire: Historical Sketches by Lyman S. Hayes, Tuttle Co., Marble City Press, Rutland, VT., 1929, page 353:
DEACON THOMAS PUTNAM OF CHARLESTOWN HAS AN UNPLEASANT EXPERIENCE IN CHURCH
In all the early meeting-houses of New England in colonial times there was a large box pew built directly in front of the pulpit where all the deacons were accustomed to sit during morning service on communion days, and which on other Sabbaths was regularly the seat of the senior deacon. The old meeting-house in Rockingham was built largely after the pattern of that which had previously been built at Charlestown, as shown by the record of a town meeting held April 10, 1787, at which the voters of Rockingham decided to "Build the town House Just as Large as Charlestown Meeting House as to the square of it" and "51y Voted to have the plan of the inside of s' d House agreeable to the inside of the Meeting House in Charlestown."
An incident which was in early years often told throughout Rockingham is worthy of being repeated although it occurred in the church at old "Number Four," the first name for Charlestown.
Thomas Putnam of Charlestown was, for many years, deacon of the old South Church in that town. In his official capacity Deacon Putnam occupied this square "deacon's pew" in the meeting-house of old Number Four on the Sabbath for some years as constantly as the day came round, until he was induced by the following circumstance to change it during the afternoon service for another.
Rev. Buckley Olcott of Charlestown and Rev. Thomas Fessenden of Walpole, father of Thomas Green [354] Fessenden, the noted editor and writer, were contemporaries in the ministry, the one having been settled in 1761, and the other in 1767, over their respective congreegations, to which they continued their ministrations until called by the Master to go up higher; and as Mr. Olcott lived until 1793, and Mr. Fessenden until 1813, they were brethren side by side in their pastorates for upwards of 25 years, during all of which time their exchanges were frequent, and the pleasantness and harrmony of their intercourse uninterrupted.
It happened during the summer of 1790 or 1791, that Mr. Olcott, being in feeble health and feeling as though he would like an exchange, dropped a line to Mr. Fessenden requesting him to accommodate him with one on the following Sabbath. Having received an affirmative answer, the respective gentlemen appeared in each other's pulpits at the appointed time.
Tradition informs us that Mrs. "Squire West," who was said to be the most notable woman of that time in Charlestown, with her accustomed hospitality invited Mr. Fessenden home with her to dinner. Among other things she placed before him for his repast was a platter bountifully laden with baked beans. As this was just such a dinner as Mr. Fessenden liked, he ate very hearttily, praising highly as he did so Mrs. West's cookery. Dinner being over, they again repaired to the church where at the appointed hour the service commenced and continued favorably through the introductory. But the first head of the sermon was scarcely reached ere Mr. Fessenden, as a result of his over-heavy dinner, began to feel an almost over-powering nausea; and what to do under the circumstances became to him a subject of no [355] inconsiderable interest. Unfortunately with such rapiddity did his sickness increase that all deliberation was out of the question, and the decision he was obliged to make was rather involuntary than voluntary. Finding that, whether he would or not, his dinner was about to leave him, he leaned over the pulpit and delivered it with a sudden outpouring on poor Deacon Putnam's head, which, already silver gray, was made more variegated by the descending shower. Of course it was not long before the seat of the senior deacon was vacated and he was looking up to see what was coming down. When he comprehended the situation, the following colloquy took place between him and the occupant of the pulpit, if not to the edification, yet much to the amusement of the congregation: .
"Mr. Fessenden," cried the unfortunate deacon, his locks still dripping, "don't you think you had better go out?"
"O no," replied the good minister placing his hand on his stomach and looking down at the deacon, unable to resist a smile at his ludicrous appearance: "O no, Deacon Putnam, I guess not for I feel greatly relieved."
But though Mr. Fessenden did not go out, Deacon Putnam did; and while in the forenoon he often afterward occupied the seat of the senior deacon, he never was known to do so in the afternoon again, but invariably took his seat at the head of the family pew, where he appeared to listen to the service with great attention. He had received one baptism and he did not care to receive another like it.