USA > Massachusetts > Norfolk County > Cohasset > Centennial anniversary of the town of Cohasset, May 7, 1870 > Part 5
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Centennial Anniversary.
the city of Mexico he rendered such valuable service as to elicit the warmest commendations of his superior officers and of the Commander-in-Chief.
His conspicuous gallantry in various scenes in the war of the Rebellion crowned his career with still higher honors, which we trust he may long live to enjoy.
I might speak of other distinguished sons of Cohasset among the living and dead, but I must forbear.
From the old hive of the First Parish in Hingham, whose ancient meeting-house was erected forty years before your church was organized, there have sprung ten other religious societies, all having places for public worship, four of which are within the limits of Cohasset.
Permit me, in closing, again to express the interest which the inhabitants of IIingham feel in the observances of this day. They are here in large numbers, to show their cordial feelings of friendship, and to rejoice with you in the inspiring historie as- sociations which crowd upon the memory, and to tender to you their best wishes for the prosperity and happiness of all your citizens.
Fifth regular toast :
THE INDUSTRY OF OUR ANCESTORS -- The foundation of their pros- perity and happiness. May it ever be an object of our care and regard as a people.
SPEECHI OF DR. GEO. B. LORING.
' Mr. President, Ladies and Gentlemen, -- I am in the habit, in the discharge of my duties as a private citizen of Massachusetts, of attending during the year, a great number of public occasions and ceremonies, and I assure you that, in the long list of them, I find none equal in fascination and charm and enjoyment to the celebrations of the anniversaries of the settlement of our towns. There gathers around an occasion like this a multitude of thoughts and associations which can be brought together on no other occasion known to us in this Commonwealth. It is our towns, sir, which have lain at the foundation of all our prosperity as a people, and have given forth from their hearth- stones those fires that have kept alive the great spirit of the American people in their advancement within the last two hun- 7
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Town of Cohasset.
dred years. Why, here in Massachusetts, long before the great author of the Declaration of Independence conceived of the thought that all men were created equal, an intelligent and well-educated town clerk of a little town declared in open town meeting, by resolution, and had it recorded there, within the old church walls, that all men were created equal. He sent that declaration forth from a town in Massachusetts, to inspire the American people and American statesmen in that contest. We have heard from your distinguished Orator to-day statements with regard to the principles of action of the early citizens of this town, which ought to inspire every American citizen with love for his country, and with the determination to do his duty in every crisis which may fall upon that country.
But now, having passed through all those public reminis- cences, and being brought right down home by your own culti- vated son to the enjoyment of your hearthstones,-to Dea. Kent, Parson Flint, and the rest,-I am asked to deal with the industry of your people-that industry which gave them their wealth and their power, and their influence in this Common- wealth and throughout the world. Now, my friends, in looking about here to ascertain what that industry is, I find a somewhat hard soil, I find a boisterous ocean, and I find no streams capa- ble of carrying a water-wheel; and so it seems to me, that, as regards the three great interests,-commerce, agriculture and manufactures,-Cohasset, of all places on the face of the earth, defied them all instead of encouraging them ; and yet, as I turn .back, after being reminded by the Orator that the sea furnished its share of their wealth, that the ports of the world were con- tinually open to their ships, that they ransacked every sea for its treasures, I find that, after all,-now pardon me, my friends ; do not call me a maniac,-I find it was agriculture on these hard hills that did the business. This lay at the foundation of the prosperity of the people of this town, as of other portions of the Commonwealth. It was the "embattled farmers" who, as the poet says-
" Fired the shot heard round the world."
It was the patriotic farmers, who carried on their operations here, in spite of all obstacles, on a little ribbon of land, extend-
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ing from the coast of Maine down to North Carolina, mostly on hard soil,-it was these farmers who gave wealth and pros- perity to the country. Patriots during the Revolution, honest men in peace, they paid, during the earliest administrations, more thail $30,000,000 of the old war debt, and paid it in money. (Applause.)
That was the industry, and that was the occupation, of your fathers. And when the soil of Cohasset failed,-the Western States were unknown, the great valley of the Mohawk had been unexplored, the Ohio was unheard of,-it was the fertile lands of Cape Cod that attracted their attention. (Laughter.) It was the valley of the Bass, not of the Connecticut, the Mohawk or the Ohio, that attracted the farmers of this region. They went down to those fertile lands that may be found in Harwich and Truro and Barnstable, and all over Cape Cod. (Laughter.) Tell me that the farmers of that day did not know how to defy obstacles! When they met a hard soil in one place, they buckled on their armor and went forth to yet harder soil in another place, determined to "subdue the earth," in obedience to the Divine injunction. It was agriculture, say what you will, that was the industry of your fathers. It was the tilling of the land that made the prosperity of the State. There were no mills here. The boys went to church in homespun; the women combed the wool, twisted it into something that they called · yarn, and knit stockings; the fathers got the dyestuffs from . the woods, and, clad in homely brown, they went forth to dis- charge their duties as good citizens. The only manufactories were in the garrets and in the kitchens. Agriculture was the industry by which your people grew rich, and paid their debts.
But let me tell you, that, down at the bottom of all this, there was something better that they did. They left behind the rural homes which are not yet extinct. Those lowly houses, always facing to the south, as if to catch the first warm and genial breeze, ornamented to-day, my friends, by that old elm tree, standing there as a type of New England institutions. Do not talk to me of the palm and the olive as significant. That old Yankee elm, that has cast its shadow on the door-stone gener- ation after generation, telling of domestic virtues unequalled on the face of the earth, and telling, moreover, of a determination
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to secure civil rights and privileges, without which man walks the carth but a slave at the bidding of a despot-that old elm trec-do not forget it! And let the policy of this Common- monwealth still be to cherish that industry which in earlier days gave to your fathers wealth and prosperity, and brought forth such solid virtues to make Massachusetts citizenship honorable on the face of the earth. It was this kind of agriculture on the land, it was this kind of citizenship in the farmer's home, that was made here, which built up those institutions which have lasted until this day, and which, my friends, thank God, have prevailed at last through this whole land. The Puritan, the Old Colony man, the South Shore man, is he who in this great struggle has come out victorious. It is the elm tree of New England, the farm-house of the Old Colony.
Now, my friends, I think this is a substantial basis to stand upon. I feel that, when the winds blow and the rain descends, and the floods come and beat upon that house, it will not fall ; for here, at least, it is founded upon a rock. (Laughter and ap- plause.) I think the industry of this section of Massachusetts is, at least, founded on rocks. I know, my friends, that the prin- ciples of this end of Massachusetts are actually, in history and reality, founded upon a rock, against which no storms can ever prevail. I am reminded by your sea-coast, by the ocean that beats upon it, and by that old beacon light which was alluded to se eloquently this morning by the Orator of the Day, of those lines of our American poet and satirist, one of the bright men of this day, who, in alluding to the power of truth, and the vain attempts to beat it doirn, says :----
" The feeble sea-birds, blinded by the storms, On some tall light shall dash their little forms, And the rude granite scatters for their pains, Those small deposits that were meant for brains ; But. the proud column, in the morning sun, Stands all unconscious of the mischief done ; Still the red beacon pours its evening rays
-On the lost traveller, with as full a blaze, While shines the radiance o'er the scattered fleet Of gulls and boobies brainless at its feet."
Let those who attempt to assail the old-fashioned industry of
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the Puritans, or to assail the principles which the Puritan has planted in this land, remember the fate of those who, assailing the beacon light on your shore, have met a fate which is worthy of all the assailants of truth and justice in our land.
I am much obliged to you for listening to me so long. I be- lieve in the industry of the Puritans ; I believe in their princi- ples. I think they will last as long as the world stands. I con- gratulate you that you live in an age when your inheritance, handed down from them, is the great law of this land, as it will one day become the great law of the civilized world ; for I re- member that the most eloquent of recent French writers has said, in view of the great advancement of American institutions : " Cæsarism, or despotism, is passing away; Republicanism is taking possession of the whole civilized world."
Music .- " Should auld acquaintance be forgot ?" 1
Sixth regular toast :
THE FATHERS AND MOTHERS OF OUR TOWN-In the fulness of good old age, they rest from their labors and their works.
SPEECH OF ARAD H. WOOD.
Mr. President and Fellow-Citizens of both Sexes,-I rise on this occasion in response to your reverent allusion to the " Fatli- ers and Mothers of the town of Cohasset, who rest from their labors."
But here and now, let me thank our friend who has preceded · me, having spared me the emotional tribute so justly and appro- priately paid to the earlier inhabitants of this town, whose works of patience, endurance and toil still remain in your midst as their monuments of praise, while their children's children rise up and call them blessed.
I am drawn here to-day by the law of sympathetic attraction. All I know of life-its shines and shades-takes its beginning here. My memory carries me back more than a full decade into the first half of the century you this day consecrate. And not- withstanding our life and all its labor belongs to the ever-pres- ent, we are ever stealing backward among the loved memories of the past, and ever singing-
.
" Sweet were all our fathers' festivals."
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Town of Cohasset.
I came to see Cohasset ; but, alas ! how little remains of this town and the people as they exist in my memory. In these walls of faces before me I see fair and comely blocks wrought from noble quarries ; but few of the old boulders that supported your municipal fabric a half century ago are visible here to-day -here and there one, it may be. On my left I see one whose military title still adheres unto him, in whose company I have sometimes marched with measured tread and also at measured distance, not in defence of our country's rights, but in defiance of the incoming tides that invade your marshes ..
I see in the distance, passing before me, the fathers and moth- ers of this town, whose piety and patience, whose industry and perseverance, laid the foundation of your virtues, your material prosperity and social and political position among the towns of Massachusetts. They aspired worthily, and so they wrought worthily, and have bequeathed to their descendants excellences that we do well to reproduce in our lives and affections.
The progress of a half-century has changed everything but the laughing sky and the sound of the sea-lashed shore. The hills are not half so high, and the roads not half so long nor half so rough, as when I was a boy.
"Sweet home of my boyhood ! once more I retrace The beauty and charms of my dear native place ; The roads and the hills, the fields and the streams, Awake to remembrance my juvenile dreams.
" Each object I gaze on holds with it combined Some early occurrence, still fresh to my mind; Here life's sunniest hours, and youth's brightest day, Glided lightly and blithesome and careless away !
" I remember the place where the blackberries grew, And ofttimes I feasted myself on them too; In the clover fields watched the industrious bee, Or the woodpecker tapping the hollow pine tree.
" On the banks of the brook that winds through the vale, I wandered in boyhood, when sprightly and hale ; Oft bathed in its waters, and fished on its shore, Oft catching a-bite, that would make me feel sore !
" On the east of the common, near yonder hill, Stood the old schoolhouse,-I remember it still;
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Centennial Anniversary.
"Twas there I received my first lesson at school, And learned by experience a pedagogue's rule !
" The home of my boyhood! my much-beloved home ! It clings to my memory wherever I roam ;
- Amid all the changes that I have passed through, The scenes of my boyhood have gladdened my view.
" Dear home of my boyhood ! though years have gone by, I love thee and prize thee, as if thou wert nigh! Thy name hath a magic to none other given,- It links my affections to dear ones in heaven.
" The home of my boyhood ! my boyhood no more ! Yet, if I should live to be three or four score, Its name shall be dear till life's latest even, When may it be changed for my home up in heaven !"
- The comforts and luxuries of your people fill me with glad- ness and surprise. New channels of trade have opened up new fields of industry, and where penury sat barefoot sorrowing, plenty spreads her table, and her guests are clothed in linen and purple.
With the material prosperity of a people, culture and refine- ment are sure attendants. The educational advantages through- out the Commonwealth have lifted the men and women of to- day out of the ruts in which their fathers and mothers travelled during the early days of this settlement. Your zeal in the cause of public instruction is evinced by the commodious houses . I see about town, dedicated to the fundamental interests of any people who would be free. Skilled labor and cooperation have lifted the burden from the weary shoulder of toil, and equalized the profits of industry among the people.
No longer do I see the docile ox yoked to the thing called a cart, moving with its plank wheels and hubs of triple plank trenelled together, creaking up and down "Beechwood Lane," (now Beechwood Street). The wooden axletree wagons of the receding and passed generations, in which the aristocracy of my young days took their pleasure rides and Sunday-meeting air- ings, have, with their proprietors, gone from our midst, and the places that knew them shall know them no more.
I shall never forget the excitement that prevailed when Major Pratt bought " his new wagon," the first of the sort ever owned
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in town. It was a marvel in itself; and one old lady (with a slight admixture of envy and solemnity, it may be,) complained of the unsolemn sound of its axles as the major drove by her dwelling on a Sunday morning. There were many other curi- osities of the genus carriage in town when I was sixty years younger than I am to-day ; but I must mention only one --- an ancient English manufactured chaise. It was a stately vehicle, I assure you, as high and square as a barn. I will tell you where it used to stand, and for aught I know it stands there now ; if so, you will find it in Capt. Peter Lothrop's barnyard.
It was in this town I gained the first rudiments of what we call an education ; and under the tutelage of the most popular teacher in town, I learned my A, B, C's. Since then I have visited many schools and conversed with many teachers ; but no " schoolmarm " yet ever filled " Miss Fanny's " place, when bal- ancing the sands that determined the exact point of time when we could have our recess. She had a pious care for the souls as well as the heads of her pupils. Many an earnest lesson on the- ology and faith has been seemingly lost on, at least, one of her scholars. Peace to her memory ; hallowed be her name. She · has gone to the shadowy unknown, and so has her Westmin- sterian creed through which she saw God and humanity and duty, as the sainted fathers and mothers " of ye olden times " saw the sun and stars through the plumbed diamond panes, that admitted the light of day into the dwellings of those who could pay the tax on "crown glass."
. My memory is densely freighted with people and events of thrilling interest. The outgoing and incoming generations are full of significance.
How blessed that generations are not made like houses and barns, with upright posts and partitions, but overlapping each other on so easy a plane, that the old slide off as the new crop out on the opposite margin, with faces radiant as sunbeams, while not a ripple disturbs the solid stratum that supports the body politic, vitalizing society and breathing into the children principles of right and duty, life and liberty, without which man cannot be man.
Mr. President, time is infinite, but patience is finite. A brief
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tribute to the fathers and mothers of the Beechwoods, and I close my remarks.
I know pious detractors have said the Beechwoods was a be- nighted corner of the town, where the gospel! had not been preached for one hundred and fifty years. No matter for that. I know the people of fifty years ago were constant attendants on the ministry of the Rev. Jacob Flint, who believed when he said, " The Father is greater than I." They practised the precepts of Jesus with marked fidelity. The charities and kindnesses of the Pratts and Whitcombs, Bates's, Wheelwrights and others are engraved on my memory, never to be effaced. only with the demon-blight, ingratitude.
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Mr. President and Fellow-Citizens, I am glad to meet you here to-day. I feel the touch and hear the voice of the fathers saying to me and to you : Be true to the high interests and needs of manhood; be faithful one to the other. I feel the destitution of age only as I neglect to harvest the harmony and sympathy of the living Present.
I can think of no words more fitting to close my response than the following dirge :-
" When I remember all
The friends so linked together, I've seen around me fall Like leaves in wintry weather, I feel like one who treads alone Some banquet hall deserted; Whose lights have fled, Whose garlands dead, And I alone departed."
Rev. F. A. REED was called upon, and said :-
I came here, Mr. Chairman, in response to your kind invita- tion, to shake hands with many of my old friends, to eat a good dinner, and not to make a speech. But thinking that I might possibly get into a corner, I prepared a toast, which I will read, with a few lines that I wrote to accompany it :-
THE ADOPTED SONS OF COHASSET WHO ARE ABSENT-Change of place has not impaired their affection for the old home.
8
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Town of Cohasset.
One-fifth of the Centennial, Mine, save a year and more, Comes stealing o'er me at the call To visit the South Shore.
The past re-lives-its hopes, its fears, Of youth and manhood's prime, Wake me to laughter and to tears, Like a sad and merry chime.
And each familiar face, I ween, That at this board appears, Is linked with something fresh and green, In those eventful years.
Cohasset ! I can not forget The scenes I lived among ;
The ocean's grand old anthem yet In memory's ear is sung.
With change of place, the heart's the same, New friends are not the old ;
A country flat, insipid, tame, Is not the sea-coast bold.
" Taunton Great River," at my door, Is not the boist'rous deep
That used to fill night with its roar, And drive away my sleep.
The fact'ry bell, the smoke that fills The throat, when it is breezy,
Does not invade the sense where wills Each one to take life easy.
And yet there is affinity "Twixt here and where I dwell; There fills all the proximity " An ancient, fish-like smell."
Herrings have come ! 'Twas told in meeting ! Our tars are doing well ;
And to their fellow-tars send greeting- " How fare the mackerel?"
We eat the herrings, bones and all, One for a whole meal stands ; Our fishers, having made their haul, Through me with yours shake hands.
------
------
88
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Centennial Anniversary.
We bought our town for a peck of beans- For so tradition has it ; In olden time, did no more means Avail to buy Cohasset ?
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POEM. BY REV. GEORGE OSGOOD. The child, who tracked Cohasset's sand One hundred years ago, May sleep in some far distant land, Or in the deep, whose billows grand, Above him ceaseless flow ; Or rest in yonder slope of green, Where sweet and tender flowers are seen, And friends may come and go.
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The same wild scenes around us lie, That met of yore his kindling eye, Though cultured grounds and villas fair
Adorn the landscape everywhere. Yes, here, like him, we still may find The wild and beautiful combined, The lovely and the grand. Whether through woodland paths we stray,
Or sit where ocean surges play In broken wreaths of foam and spray, Around the ancient rocks of gray That line our rugged strand. Like him, from headland bold, we view The wide expanse of waters blue, Or on the beaches stroll, And listen to the solemn roar, As on the smooth and shining shore The billows break and roll. When sunset sheds its sweetest smile On wave and shore, on rock and isle, On lake and winding stream, We love on yonder hills to stray, And watch the twilight fade away, Till shines from Minot's tower of gray The lamp's resplendent beam. We, on a summer eve serene, May find a lovely moonlight scene While sitting on the cliff; And think of those, who, years ago,
--
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Town of Cohasset.
Beheld the breakers dash and flow Around the fisher's skiff. The child who climbed from crag to crag A hundred years ago, Beheld the folds of England's flag From many a war-ship flow. Then, as he saw the royal fleet Sail by Nantasket shore, With joy and pride he loved to greet The ensign that it bore.
But ah! the child too fondly dreamed The fleet and flag that friendly seemed Would always guard his home ; Nor feared the tyrant's boasted power Would, in some dark and evil hour, In woe and vengeance come.
And soon, his earnest heart was stirred By many a true and fearless word From those who led the age ; He heard the statesman's strong appeal, Beheld the hero's force and zeal, And watched the gifted sage. When Franklin, with unerring eye, Could see the gathering tempest nigh, And gave his warning clear; When Henry, 'gainst the tyrant's throne, Spoke with that true inspiring tone That knew no doubt nor fear ; When Otis fired the patriot's zeal With many a true and bold appeal, And urged the freeman's right ; When Lincoln drew his trusty sword, To show by deed as well as word HIe for the cause would fight; The boy that tracked Cohasset's sand Then bravely joined the noble band Which rose to save his native land In danger's darkest hour ; And through war's long and dreadful storm, His faithful heart beat true and warm For freedom's blessed power. When overboard they threw the tea,* What patriot had more pluck than he ? When came the news from Lexington, * Major James Stoddard.
08
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Centennial Anniversary.
Who was more glad to grasp his gun,* And show on famous Bunker Hill He could defy the tyrant's will ? When Lincoln from the English lord At Yorktown took the yielded sword,
And shouts of joy and triumph rose, He gladly hailed the contest's close, And saw with pride his country's foes, Defeated, pass away ; And to his home of peace returned, For which his heart had fondly yearned Through many a weary day.
· Years passed away-and yet again, England, the mistress of the main, Despised our nation's power ; And then Cohasset's sons arose And met on sea and land her foes, In many a battle-hour. Here some may yet remember still, How oft they saw from rock and hill The hostile ships pass by ; While to the battle's fearful roar, In echoes from our rocky shore, Came back a sad reply.
The war soon closed, and peace again Brought hope and joy to earth and main. Then might the fisher safely guide His bark along the trackless tide ; Then might the earth her treasures yield To him who tilled the fertile field, And the mechanic's skilful hand Enrich and bless the prosperous land ;
Then steam outstripped the changeful sail, Or sent her trains along the rail,
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