USA > Massachusetts > Worcester County > Princeton > Celebration of the one hundredth anniversary of the incorporation of the town of Princeton, Mass., October 20th, 1859 : including the address of Hon. Charles Theodore Russell, the poem of Prof. Erastus Everett, and other exercises of the occasion > Part 6
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Well, then, may we celebrate the anniversary of our native town. Well may she call back her scattered sons, and there are many of whom she may be justly proud-they are her priceless jewels. Wisely may we medi- tate the stern virtues of our fathers-their example is our noblest inheritance.
As you request a sentiment, I will venture to offer the following :
The good old Town of Princeton-May she in the future, as in the past, be the nursery of men solid as her granite rocks, pure as her mountain rills, aspiring like her lofty hills, from the low cares and pleasures of earth to the atmosphere of heaven. The hills of the sunny South, the broad prairies of the West, the " coral strands " of India, and the distant isles of the ocean rise and call her blessed.
With sentiments of much respect, truly yours,
MYRON O. ALLEN.
J. T. EVERETT, EsQ., Chairman of Committee on Toasts, &c.
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No. 5. Our Native and Natural Productions-While time and experi- ence have taught us the great worth of our Fullers, our Woods, our Bangs, Moores, Allens, Russells and Everetts ; our Flocks and Herds ; our Wheat, Barley and Corn, we are yet in doubt as to the real qualities of our Cobb.
THE PRESIDENT-And we propose, now, to test the quality of the Cobb-not the ordinary cob, ladies and gentlemen, but the Major Cobb. (Laughter.)
Thus plainly called for, Major MOSES G. COBB, of Dor- chester, a descendant, by one of the branches of the family, from Hon. Moses Gill, whose name he bears, came forward and said :
Mr. President, and Ladies and Gentlemen of Princeton : What a theme the sentiment proposes for research and for thought. The farmers of Princeton can scarcely expect me to enter into a discussion of the merits of Agriculture. You are an agricultural township, as the orator has well said to-day; you are essentially an agricultural town. I can only hope that sooner or later, every State in the Union will have an agricultural department in its executive government, as ours has, and that the national executive will have, as a branch of its fostering care and solicitude, an agricultural department. You, farmers of Princeton, have no cause for reproach in this respect. I believe that you always honored and fostered the science of agricul- ture. Cattle-Show day, at Worcester, Mr. President, is among the ineffaceable memories of my boyhood. I can, even now, feel the pride with which I used to point out to the boys less fortunate than myself, as I supposed, the beautiful products of Princeton ; its handsome cattle, its vegetables, its grains, its almost word-renowned butter and cheese, and if I remember rightly, sir, its good old-fashioned brown bread, made by the housewives and daughters of Princeton, in a large measure, sir, out of that staple of Princeton-Indian corn. But at no time do I remember to have seen exhibited there, any Cobbs. (Laughter.)
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I have been aware of the skill, the enterprise, the energy of the Princeton farmers, and the perfection to which they have brought every branch of agriculture, leaving nothing untried which ought to be tried, and trying only those that should be. I am aware, sir, of the increased value, as an article of human diet, both in this country and the old, of Indian corn, the exports having increased in five years- from 1851 to 1857-from one million five hundred thousand bushels, to over seven million five hundred thousand bushels ; and the export of Indian meal has increased in the same ratio. But I believe it remained for the Princeton farmers to test the quality of Cobbs. On this matter of Cobbs, I believe I have nothing to be ashamed of in my ancestry. Mr. Samuel Cobb, who was quite an carly settler in the south-western part of this town, and who was the progenitor of the Princeton Cobbs, was a worthy, sober, well-to-do farmer, and came here from Cape Cod. I believe all the Cobbs in the country came from that section of the State. I believe all the Cobbs, male and female, have been industrious, honest, sober people, fulfilling the trust imposed upon them; and now and then a Cobb has stood out from the general mass of mankind. I will say no more of the family of Cobbs, except to add, that it is a great source of regret to me that there is no family bearing my name in Princeton.
As for myself, I have come up here to-day,-and I do not know that I shall ever repay the debt of gratitude I owe the citizens of Princeton, who have allowed me to do it,- I have come up to look out upon one of the most beautiful panoramas in the world, almost, the charm of my boy- hood, to breathe its pure and bracing air with the companions of my youth ; to see the " old folks," and shake them by the hand; and, let me say, they do not appear a day older than when I was a boy.
I feel grateful that my boyhood was in this place, where I could trace my home, by metes and bounds, not by a figure on the wall, or on a door, and I have resolved to-day,
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that, sooner or later, I shall make my home again in Princeton. (Applause.)
But, sir, another source of sorrow and regret has come over me to-day. My friend, the Orator of the day, really destroyed my dinner by informing me, seriously, that there was a vote passed in 1760, to this effect: That the meeting- house be painted, provided the Hon. Moses Gill will furnish the paint. Now, I am indirectly a descendant of that honorable gentleman. His name has descended to me, but none of his money, and I was alarmed, at first, to think, that this day, and here, that old resolve should be brought forward, and I be called upon to paint the meeting-house. I found out, however, I thought, a way of escape. There is nowhere a resolve that the house shall be painted. I also remembered the reply of the Irishman to the farmer, who complained that he had not dug his potatoes as he was expected to do. Said he : " If you want your pota- toes dug, fetch 'em along." So I say, if you want your house painted, fetch it down to Boston, and I will see that it is painted. (Laughter.)
Let me give this sentiment in conclusion :
The Farmers of Princeton-The most economical people in the world. They not only know how to raise and shell their corn in the best manner, but they make mince-meat of their Cobbs.
(Great Laughter.)
No. 6. The Chairmakers of East Princeton-May they always be of good, substantial timber, free from all the knots and shakes of bad timber and miscalculation. May their backs not be too crooked to permit them to stand erect and boldly against all vice. May thay be shaved and turned to the perfect model of integrity and virtue, and use just enough of the sand-paper of self-denial to smooth off all the rough corners of intemper- ance, and the use of the weed. May the glue of their friendship and love hold them together, and firmly unite them in the pure bonds of wedlock. May they never be stained with crime, but beautifully painted with the graces of humility and charity, and ornamented with the gold-leaf of Christian benevolence and world-wide philanthropy. In short, in their whole model, manufacture, and finish, may they be done up BROWN. Nye, more ! May they be like the faithful Stewarts, improving their ten talents, and, in old age, recline in the easy chairs of competence and comfort, and
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in their final exit, may they all obtain seats in that glorious train, whose conductors are the angels of light, and whose depot is the paradise of God.
This sentiment was received with applause.
THE PRESIDENT-I am sorry there is no one here who can rise from his seat in response to this sentiment, brace his back, extend his arm, and give us a " stretcher."
One of the manufacturers alluded to in the sentiment, it was hoped would be present to respond; but as neither of them was present, MR. BROWN, of East Princeton, said :
I find myself, ladies and gentlemen, very much in the position of the schoolmaster of old times. You recollect it was the custom to make considerable preparation for examination, and it was thought best by some, where they had not made much advancement, to let each member of the school know his position, so that he could answer the question given him readily. Well, it so happened, one of the boys was taken sick, and the teacher did not recollect that, and put the questions in their order, one of which related to the Catholic Church. When that question was put, there was no response ; but finally a boy spoke up and said : " The boy who believes in the Catholic Church, is at home, sick abed." So it appears there is no response here, because the gentleman who was expected to do it is absent.
Mr. Mirick, of East Princeton, read a rhymed response from J. W. NYE, who was not able to be present.
When God in Eden's pleasant bowers Placed the first happy, human pair, I wonder how they passed the hours Without a settee or a chair !
Perchance some stone or mound suffieed To sit upon while living there ; They doubtless would have been surprised If they had seen a Princeton chair.
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Now men, alas, have learned to cheat, And little for each other care ; And manufacturers compete In turning'out the cheapest chair.
Within our humble vale we'll strive To busy be, and banish care, We also calculate to drive Up nothing but a first rate chair.
Thanks for the sentiment so kind,- So full of wishes good and rare, And may its author ever find, When he sits down, an easy chair.
No. 7. The Natural Scenery of Princeton-While her hills and valleys spread out for the eye of man a rich and bounteous feast, Old Wachusett, robed in beauty and grandeur, sits Queen of the scene, and with her waving forest beckons all true lovers of nature to the banquet.
The President called upon THOMAS H. RUSSELL, EsQ., of Boston, to respond.
It is no easy matter, Mr. President, to respond, in suitable terms, to this remembrance of the chief distinction in our natural scenery. It would doubtless be best done in the fewest words. Nothing better can be said, than, there it stands-it speaks for itself. Whether I say so or not, there it does stand, and does speak for itself. It were safe to attempt a word in behalf of our " Old Wachusett," behind its back, or in its absence.
I have had the opportunity of seeing something of the mountain scenery of New England and its . vicinity ; and while the Holyoke, the Catskill, the Kearsage, the Monad- nock, the Green, the Red, and the White, have, each and all, varying characteristics of beauty and grandeur, none surpass our own Wachusett in its most marked and notice- able features of beauty and loveliness. A well defined, isolated, symmetrical cone, rising far above all immediate surroundings, it opens to the view a complete and unbroken circle. In the midst of a country fully and completely subdued to the uses of civilized life, it presents, in no
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view, anything of the wild or solitary; covered with a primeval growth of forest from base to summit, it reveals nothing rugged, and, in the symmetrical outline of its ascent, loses even the true measure of its massive propor- tions. It has not, in this hilly country, the more extensive water views of some of its rivals ; but few can lay claim to so exclusive a local pre-eminence. As one stands on its well defined summit, the eye rests on no view-obstructing neighbor ; the heavens spring from an horizon, a seeming true level, and arch above in a perfect hemisphere; the distant surface of the earth from the same horizon, seeming at the observer's own level, (I know not by what visual law,) sweeps down in a perfect concave to the mountain in its center. As one turns on this center of a seeming grand concave, the eye travels a complete panoramic circle of loveliness ; an unbroken range of town and village, lawn, field, and forest, with silver tracery of streams ; and, here and there dotting the surface, now expanding, and now hiding in some woody recess, many sweet lakes, in their placid waters mirroring all surrounding beauty ; while everywhere are seen evident marks of the human industry, that has subdued and rules over all.
Standing on some of our New England mountains, and looking upon a vast surrounding of mountain upon moun- tain, and wild unbroken forest, without sign of man, the mind is oppressed with the solitary grandeur and sublimity of the scene, and the awfulness of the presence; but on the Wachusett, you feel that grandeur is refined of all that is fearful, and one seems to repose as on the ancient watch-tower of the vineyard, in the very midst of a scene of peace, life, and loveliness.
Mr. President, those of us to whom the natural scenery we look upon to-day is the first we saw of all the great and beautiful works of God, may well love these hills and valleys. We may be pardoned if we dispute the right of distant or other lands or scenes, to diminish ought of that affection and regard.
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It is needless to make a weary pilgrimage to the desolate banks of the Nile,-to seek a crumbling pyramid, buried sphinx, or enigmatical hieroglyphic of perished nations,-to delve in the sands of Euphrates' bank, or to climb to the storyless ruins of Baelbec,-it is needless to do all, or any of these things, to stand in the presence of the venerable past, and look on the face of the ancient.
Would you look on the venerable-the ancient? Look about you. Have you never thought that, before the history of our race began,-before Moses gave the deca- logue to the descendants of Abraham,-before Persian or Greek, Rome or Carthage strove for the mastery of the world, this old sentinel commenced its long watch over these hills and valleys? May not the waters of a general flood have rolled and surged over its top ? Have not the storms of six thousand winters beat upon it, and six thousand summers fanned it with their sweet breath ? What if no human eye rested on it for long ages, and these lovely habitations, the great architect prepared for man, waited long their coming tenants, even their savage precursors of civilized life ? "A thousand years are as one day," and "one day as a thousand years" with him, in whose mysterious Providence
" Full many a gem of purest ray serene, The dark, unfathomed caves of ocean bear ; Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, And waste its sweetness on the desert air."
How shortly after the discovery of this Continent, this eminence became known, is not certain. Certain it is, that Governor Winthrop, as early as 1631, January 27, and some company with him, ascended Charles river, eight miles beyond Watertown, and there, on the west side of a hill, on a very high rock, they "might see all over Neipnett, and a very high hill due west, about forty miles off."
This was our Wachusett two hundred and twenty-eight years ago,-away back almost to the days of good Queen
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Bess,-eleven years after the landing of Plymouth, and almost the time of the settlement of Boston. How much of the world's history has transpired since Governor Winthrop, on that Wednesday, more than two centuries ago, looked on yonder, to us, familiar mountain,-a period almost spanning the civilized history of the Western Continent. It has witnessed the birth and vigorous growth of the western nations, as it had before witnessed the all unwritten history of that strange people who possessed the land before us, and yet seems to-day no older.
Sir, the great duties of life, are not those to which the heart most willingly turns. It marks the beneficence of the Author of the Universe, that above this fundamental permanency of nature, there rests a mantle of change. The phenominal world is all change. The day has a morning, noon, night; the year a Spring, a Summer, a Winter. Life has an infancy of weakness, a manhood of strength, an age of decay and death. If all about us were permanent,-no falling leaf-no darkening evening-no decay or death of beauty-no alarm to break our repose,- man would be in danger of forgetting the great purpose of his being, and in fancied fruition of a fleeting present, fail to lay hold of the permanent and eternal.
It is the benevolence of God that, while we gather here to-day, is mantling thus our hoary monitor in his garments of bright, but swift passing beauty,-benevolence, that awakens a new life with an opening Spring, clothes a world in beauty, and swift turns that beauty to ashes.
" Where are the flowers, the fair young flowers, That lately sprang and stood In brighter light and softer airs, A beauteous sisterhood ? Alas ! they all are in their graves ; The gentle race of flowers Are lying in their lowly beds, With the fair and good of ours."
How largely we ourselves participate in this element of change. On these hills we have played away our youth-
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we cannot come back and play away our age. Our com- panions are gone,-the sports of youth have no longer keenness and relish. We looked then on children, and now, coming back, can hardly believe they are men. The fresh bloom we used to see and look for-ah ! it belongs now to other and new faces. We knock at this door and that, but no familiar form responds. Alas ! the places that once knew them know them no more-and so one hundred years.
The fathers-where are they? The children-their children's children-where are they ? Three generations have now lived under the shadow of this goodly mountain ; have looked on its familiar face; have struggled with life and its duties, as we do now ; have cherished its hopes, its affections, and borne its griefs, disappointments and sorrows; have tilled these fair lands, and peacefully rest in the bosom of mother earth.
Life is a warfare that knows no rest. The order is always, march ! We are of the grand procession of our country. The youngest of us begin to feel the pressure, and hear the admonitory steps of those who come after us. Happy, indeed, if, as we pass along this day under the shadow of our native Wachusett, we seize the great lesson of the moment. Mark the swinging pendulum of Summer and Winter, sunshine and shadow, that measures off the days of the year, as of our fathers. They sleep-ours to-day the battle of life. If I may be permitted with a text to put an end to a discourse, perhaps too largely tinged with the hues of surrounding nature to indicate the thought I would bear away from these pleasant festivities-from these sacred memories-as our fresh purpose, as we lead the van a second coming century, I would say : " Whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report, if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things."
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No. 8. The Young Ladies of Princeton-May their virtues be larger than their skirts, and their faults smaller even than their bonnets.
(Laughter.)
No. 9. The Mothers of Princeton-As patterns of virtuous industry, of mental and moral worth, may they be reproduced in each succeeding generation.
No. 10. To-day, while we thank God that our cup of blessings is so full, let us also pray, that each succeeding generation may possess a Fuller.
Response by Rev. ARTHUR B. FULLER, of Watertown.
Mr. President, and Ladies and Gentlemen :- It seems to me that history is ever repeating itself, and as though we had, to-day, one instance of which Solomon tells us is a truth, that " there is nothing new under the sun." It is not the first time that a Rev. Mr. Fuller has addressed the inhabitants of Princeton, although this Mr. Fuller has never had the pleasure of seeing them face to face before, or of grasping their hands, and telling them that those who bear the name and cherish the memory of their first minister, cherish, also, a love for this place and this people.
I have been very much gratified, Mr. President, in coming here, and gratified with what I have heard and what I have seen. I might pass some few criticisms on this place, if I chose. I might go back to Boston, and say that everybody who came here " got high." I had to-I think every one does who succeeds in reaching this ele- vated place. I might, too, go to State street, or Wall street, and tell our merchants, if they want to "raise the wind," they had better come here. (Laughter.)
I was a little fearful for the practical result of my poet- ical friend's address. He talked about squeezing hands ; but I found I got squeezed all over in passing through the crowded aisles of your church, this morning. Truly, there I found a warm welcome, even on this cold and windy day.
I believe a part of my grandfather's ministry here was a stormy one, and I was gratified when I received a note
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from your Committee, inviting me here to say a few words in reference to him.
I was glad to hear my friend, Major Cobb, " shell out," so abundantly, the kernels, out of which good intellectual bread could be made. Yes, it has been pleasant to see my classmates here to-day,-the friend who preceded me,(T. H. Russell, Esq.,) and my friend Cobb,-and that our good class of 1843 was thus represented here by us three-a trinity that I can believe in-three in one-three persons, but one in purpose, mind and spirit. But I did not come up here to speak in this strain. As I was thinking of coming, I was asked by your Orator, for some ancient documents which were in my possession. I was astonished, on searching an old trunk in my attic, to see how many vener- able papers, pertaining to your history, I had inherited. I have in my hand the first Covenant* of this church, with the names of the original settlers on it. Here is the name of Robert Keyes, whose lost daughter has been so touch- ingly alluded to, in the Oration and Poem of to-day. Here, too, are the names of Mirick, and Mosman, and Hastings, and many another of your early settlers, written in their own hands.
Here is the first Thanksgiving Sermon ever preached in this place. I have, too, an ancient deed-a certified copy -by which Wachusett mountain was given to my grand- father, and I have come to look after my property a little, to know whether it has been entered upon, and whether my timber has been, any of it, removed, without my consent. I fear, alas, that some subsequent deed, however, makes that beautiful mountain the property of some other than me.
I have, also, here, a letter from Governor Gill, presenting the first Bible ever publicly read in this town; and, also, mentioning to my grandfather a very beautiful lady, who
*This document, with that recording the marriages and deaths of the first settlers, was presented, by Mr. Fuller, to the first church, through Rev. Mr. Briggs, at the close of the Centennial Celebration.
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resided out of Princeton, I am sorry to say, and whom Mr. Gill believed would have made my grandfather a most excellent wife.
Here, too, is a newspaper, which was conned diligently, and contains an account of the Massacre in Boston, March 5th, 1770. This is the only copy that came into this town. It was gazed at by eager eyes, till hearts throbbed and tears wet the page. It told of slaughter, and an event which made the heart beat high, and the very turf throb beneath their feet ; and ultimately, doubtless, influenced them to go where they could, as soldiers, avenge that and other later atrocious crimes against liberty.
But I wish to establish definitely the fact, that my grand- father was a true patriot in those " times which tried men's souls," and in favor of the great principles of the Declara- tion of Independence. As a specimen of some of the arguments used to create a contrary impression at the time, I will state one. A man got up in town meeting here, in 1775, and said : "I know Mr. Fuller is not pious, and is a Tory, for I caught hold of him suddenly, the other evening, and in his surprise, he said: 'Let alone of me, by George !' Now as he said ' by,' he could not be pious ; and he must have meant George the Third, and of course, then, if he would swear by him, he must be a Tory." Such, sir, were the ridiculous arguments, which were deemed sufficient, in the excited, almost frantic period of which I am speaking, when a righteous jealousy for freedom, assuredly led to some unjust suspicions of those no less friendly to liberty than the most zealous patriots of Princeton.
But, on this subject, I propose not simply to make cor- rections, but to give proof, and that of an undeniable character-proof in the handwriting of my grandfather, giving his public declaration of his opinions, read in open town meeting, in 1775. These papers were not put upon record then, though referred to in the town records. It was suffered to be lost, but, fortunately, I have the
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original document in my hand, here and now. It explains every circumstance which made Rev. Timothy Fuller sus- pected then, and clearly declares his agreement with the principles of the Revolution, and his readiness, even, to fight in their behalf.
I have come to vindicate his memory ; and it is as impor- tant for you to know, that you never had a minister who was not true to liberty, as it is for me to be able to say that I had no such ancestor. Let me, then, read from these ancient documents, the originals of which were once read in Princeton, in 1775.
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