USA > Massachusetts > Bristol County > Rehoboth > Historical addresses, poem, and other exercises at the celebration of the two hundred and fiftieth anniversary of the settlement of Rehoboth, Mass., held October 3, 1894 > Part 8
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109
HISTORICAL ADDRESS.
Hon. Edwin C. Pierce, of Providence, R. I.
Mr. President, Ladies and Gentlemen :
The lateness of the hour admonishes me that I must detain you only a few minutes, although on an occasion so inspiring, and in a company like this, where all are re- lated by the ties of common tradition, and very many by kinship of blood, not so remote that it cannot be traced, pregnant thoughts would easily frame themselves into words upon the lips of even the most unaccustomed speaker.
I come to this spot to-day out of filial loyalty to the memory of Samuel Newman, the founder, of whom I am a lineal descendant on my mother's side, in the seventh gen- eration. I am equally proud to claim descent, like your honored chairman, from that Captain Michael Pierce, of Scituate, who with his band of New England Spartans, among whom were citizens of Rehoboth, died on the bed of honor a few miles from here, in defence of all the set- tlements in the Old Colony.
The early settlers of New England were distin- guislied, in an eminent degree, by courage, both moral and physical, and by perseverance. They had for conscience sake separated themselves from an established church, some of their ministers, like Newman, giving up comfort- able livings in that church.
They had left their native land and crossed a stormy ocean, and had made their homes in a wilderness. They were surrounded by forests peopled by barbarians upon
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250TH ANNIVERSARY OF REHOBOTHI.
whose peaceful disposition they could never reckon, and who attempted their destruction.
I need not recount to' you, their descendants, the story of the fortitude and perseverance of those ancestors of ours.
From the New Englanders of to-day are demanded also heroic qualities, although their foes and their trials are of a different sort from those of their fathers.
The dangers and the problems of political corruption, of intemperance, of the just acquisition and distribution of wealth, the unifying in one harmonious citizenship of im- migrants of various nationality and creed, these it is that confront the New Englanders of to-day.
Let them face these dangers and these problems not only with courage and perseverance, but with confidence. As the perils of the wilderness did not daunt our fathers, let their children face the perils of civilization with unquailing hearts.
Let them cherish their fathers' faith in God and have faith in their own great destiny.
There is no occasion for New Englanders to lose confidence in themselves, or doubt the future success of their institutions or their enterprises.
The cities which crown the hill-tops of New England, while they present problems, are on the whole in whole- some and hopeful condition. They are destined to be cities of the light.
250th Anniversary
POEM = =
T
THOMAS W. BICKNELL.
113
ORIGINAL POEM.
An Original Poem
BY THOMAS W. BICK NELL.
EARLY PILGRIMS.
We meet where ancient altar fires Were kindled by ancestral sires, And grateful homage here we pay To worthies of an earlier day.
Our Mecca this, a sacred shrine, Made holy by the Face Divine ; Our Salem, where with joyful lays The tribes once met for prayer and praise.
"Iwas Israel's wont, at Zion's seat, The story and the song repeat Of captive days, of grand release From Pharaoh's bonds to Canaan's peace.
They sang again sweet Miriam's strains That echoed over Goshen's plains; As horse and rider filled the sea, "Jehovah triumphed gloriously."
At Marah's springs they drank anew, Till bitter waters sweeter grew; Neath Elim's palms they slaked their thirst And gained new strength by days of rest.
Across the desert sands they stray, - Their guide the pillared cloud by day ; In darksome night, the stars their tent, C'eraching God's high firmament.
Ere yet the Promised Land they spy . For Egypt's leeks and corn they cry :
ยท E'en Joshua's speech of fruitful vines And corn and wine are empty signs,
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250TH ANNIVERSARY OF REHOBOTH.
But on they press at Moses' word, And reach the Sacred Mount of God, Where blessed anew with Law and Love, They pledge their faith in Heaven above.
Through Moab's land, past Nebo's cave Where Israel's leader found his grave; flis strength still new, his vision bright, Hle rested there 'neath Heaven's sweet light.
"On Jordan's stormy banks they stand," And view their Canaan, promised Land, lis waters feel their Master's wand And swift obey His great command.
These earlier Pilgrims find their home, Where God has made them plenteous room ; The rocks yield honey, milk their kine, They seek His precepts all divine.
To the high theme of Pilgrim days, In modern lands, our thoughts we raise, And trace the path the fathers trod, Who lived and walked and died with God.
FROM OLD TO NEW.
Stout of heart and strong of hand, Were the men who journeyed from old England, Who broke the chains of a despot king, And with freemen's shouts made the welkin ring.
"Charles is a tyrant," they boldly said, And under the bammers of Cromwell Ied, These sires of ours won their spurs of yore. On Naseby's fields and at Marston Moore,
The King of Kings was their leader then : They feared no foes of the sons of men, But forth to battle and death they went, . As into some holy sacrament.
Some called them Roundheads as in scorn : Others named them Puritans and low born. Both they confessed and proudly chose To die with these than to reign with those.
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ORIGINAL POEM.
A stern resolve fired these noble men, Their faith in God well served them then : "We had rather brave the new world's fears, Than to dwell on a soil sown with bitter tears.
This land of our birth is now desolate, The Church is corrupt and worse the State. We will not bow to an earthly crown That tramples the laws of God's kingdom down.
Across the seas in the Golden West, Lies a newer land where the soul may rest. Where the foot of the tyrant has never trod, And with freedom of faith we may worship God."
The Mayflower brought of the choicest stock : They planted their feet on Plymouth Rock. The seed of three realms was the freight they brought In that little ship, men counted nanght.
I see her prow as it parts the waves To the land of the free from a land of slaves ; A pillar of cloud was their guide by day,- The lamp of Hope led their nightly way.
How strange was the sight that met the view Of these pioneers to a land so new ; The shores and the woods like the waves were wild, For Nature alone on these scenes had smiled.
"Iwas God's dear welcome alone they sought, As into this wilderness they brought Their wives and children and household stuff : With the Church and the School they were rich enongh.
But list to the sound that floats on the air; Methinks it's the chorns of praise and prayer That rises from hearts in that cabin lone, And mingles and swells at God's high throne.
This promised land they hold in tenst, To Heaven they pledge allegiance first ; Then with their faith in fellow man, They knew not race nor creed nor clan,
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250TH ANNIVERSARY OF REHOBOTH.
These tenets boll the Pilgrims gave, As principles the world to save. The winds took up the bold refrain, And swept them westward o'er the main, - Till o'er the land Columbus saved And seized from ont the western wave, One song shall fill all souls with praise, And erown earth's latest, sweetest days, "The brotherhood of man maintain, The Fatherhood of God proclaim."
ON THE MARCH.
Ont of the East, ere the sunrise, in the dawn of colonial story, While the red streaks of the morning were lighting the plains and the forests, Gathered the neighbors at Weymouth to speak their good-byes at the fording. Late yester-night it was ordered the march should begin on the morrow. Prayers had been offered at hearthstones and around the old Weymonth. pulpit. Newman, the elder, their leader, was to be of the new flock their shepherd, To lead to the pastures of Seekonk, beside the still waters of Blackstone.
Trnsty, the Indian guide, who knew the long trail through the forests, Knew where the camps should be made and the Titicut's stream conkl be forded, Knew where the alewives swarmed and the nuts had been stored by the squirrels, Knew where the goose laid its eggs, and the hedgehogs fashioned their burrows ; Knapsacks strapped to their backs, and their horses well laden with baggage, Clothing from over the seas, and stores from old Wessagussett ;
Men astride English-bred horses, and women on pillions behind them, Babes on their arms or their backs, and barefooted children as footmen. Narrow the trail through the woods that leads to the Western horizon, Where these first pilgrims shall rest, on the march to the farther Pacific. Green and mossy the carpet that is spread o'er the floor of great Braintree ; Sweet are the songs of the Robins, and the redwing is joyons with music : The catkins are green on the willows, and brilliant the blish of the maple ; The mayflowers are modest as maidens, and the cowslips drink gold from the brooklets.
Onward they make their way, with serious mood, yet glad-hearted. Looking with hope for the day when their future new home should be sighted Near to the land of Mosshassuck, on the borders of blue Narragansett, Where Williams, the exile from Salem, had made an asylum for freemen. Early their first camp they made, in sight of the blue Massachusetts,
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ORIGINAL POEM.
Bedded beneath the pines near the waters of the white-pebbled Mashpang. Early next day on the trail they meet with the Chief Metacomet, Sagamore now of the tribe that rules over waved-washed Sowamset. Welcome he gives to the band, which holds in its girdle the legend Written by Massasoit, their deed to the broad Wannamoisett. Royal the Puritan pageant, the redface now leads the procession, Winding across the plains till Titient's waters are forded. The camp is set for the night with Indian warriors for sentries, Near the great hill on the south, where later the beacons were lighted. Joy fills the heart of the people, for well they know on the morrow They will feast on the bivalves of Seekonk and drink from the waters of Black- stone.
On the third day ere the nightfall, they reach this land of their purchase. Here Samuel Newman, the elder, now well within his possessions, Gratefully pours ont his soul in a prayer of deepest devotion, Voicing the hearts of his church in the wilderness here to be planted, Sacredly sets up his standards and christens this new land Rehoboth. "For," said the Puritan leader, "This is the land full of promise. Here hath the Lord led his flock to the pastures and waters of plenty, Its name shall henceforth be Rehoboth,for here there is room for our planting, Mother of towns shall she be and of churches so true and so faithful, Blest of the Lord in the life which here on these plains we have planted."
THE CHURCH AND HOME IN THE WILDERNESS.
Across the years and lives of men, The Church and home have welcome been; Each in its sphere a power for good- A power more felt than understood.
Each near the other found its place, The Home for life ; the Church for grace. Like sentries firm their watch towers stand To gnard the treasures of the land.
The earliest thought of Newman's flock Was planted first on Plymouth Rock; But seed like this finds ready root In soils that tempt no other fruit.
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250TH ANNIVERSARY OF REHOBOTH.
At Providence, across the tide, Brave Williams and his church abide. There exile saints and sinners meet At freedom's common merey seat.
At Study Hill, Blackstone's retreat, The hermit settler thinks it meet To flee the priestly lord of men ; And tyrant more-the lord-brethren.
On Seekonk's plains, in sweet accord, With these true followers of the Lord, Samuel, the seer, of English blood, Reveres the oracles of God.
HIe plants the church on corner stone, Where priest and prophet meet in oue. HIe rears the humble Bethel roof On soil that thirsts for Heaven's own truth.
The sacred desk he weekly fills, And from his lips Heaven's dew distills ; The hour glass tests the sermons's length ; Its doctrines try men's faith and strength.
Two preachments on each Sabbath day, A week-day lecture, grave, not gay- Discourses suited to an hour When men must hew their way to power.
NEWMAN AND HIS FLOCK.
Teacher and pastor was our Newman, too, His hands some task were always near to do. The sick had healing, comfort the distressed, The dying solace and the weary rest.
To feed his flock the pastor must be fed, Himself must lead to pastures rich with bread, God's word to him was daily manna blest, Newman's Concordance tells the story best.
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ORIGINAL POEM.
With axe or hammer equal was his skill, As with the faithful but relentless quill. He wrought by day ; no midnight oil he burned, Becanse forsooth pine knots were all he earned.
llis salary was fifty pounds a year ; His work was broad, yet many called it dear. That ancient flock had need of various care A modern pastor ne'er would try or share.
IIe led the sheep by pastures fair and large, The lambs he nurtured as a shepherd's charge. The Church was foremost, yet in things of State. Ile oft was called the town to moderate.
Physician, too, he knew the art and skill To practice with the knife or murderous pill. A Judge he was, in snits not always civil, The case went hard that savored of the devil.
The meeting house, quite like the pastor, too, Hlad nses for all times and seasons new. Its high-backed pews concealed the deacon's nod, Who bowed to Somnus while he worshipped God.
The sounding board high o'er the pulpit tower, Resounded with the preacher's vocal power, While on town meeting days the county squire, Set all the town ablaze, with lungs on fire.
The galleries above were filled with youth Who went to meeting more for fine than truth ; The tithing man, though patient as a rule, Found here a task as hard as keeping school.
The Church and State united here in one ; The pulpit was the forum and the throne. All human wrongs were righted at this conrt: They prayed and quarreled when they came to vote.
The deacon's hat crown was the voter's box, Where every freeman cast his written prox. The kangaroo and ballot were unknown, The seeds of ballot stuffing were not sown.
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250TH ANNIVERSARY OF REHOBOTH.
"Tis well to call it consecrated ground, Where men and deeds of primal stock are found. Old Seekonk's plains, though waste as a Sahara, Are brilliant yet as diamond-decked tiara.
For here the Church has stood the centuries' shock, And round her hearthstones many a loyal flock Ilas gathered since the days of "forty-three," To make the Church and State both strong and free.
Newman, the scholar, was their leader then, A true-born son of God and king of men. Across these fields his active pathway lay, "Allred to brighter worlds and led the way."
Thrice blessed he who saw that early day, Before these times when saints Innt heresy ; Who made his doctrines square and orthodox. Because forsooth, there was no other dox.
"Iwas Father Newman to the elder men, And Parson Newman to the younger elan. Ile taught true faith, great hope and charity, U'ntrammelled by the weight of a D. D.
A fiery chariot like Elijah's train. As carrier for this sacred servant came . "Angels your office do," his latest word, And mounted heavenward, toward the throne of God."
Time fails to tell of grand, heroic sonls, And women, too, bright stars on history's rolls; Who lived and labored, loved and journeyed on, From life's bright morning till its setting sun.
Who set the standards of our later times Of honest service and of well-earned dimes : Who sought not honors nor earth's poor reward, But righteons living, richest gift of God.
Around us are their sons who run the town ; Their names are Peck and Allen, Hunt and Brown, Walker and Martin, Carpenter and Bliss, Cooper and Holmes, and lots of names like this.
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ORIGINAL POEM.
Palmer, whose name our shadowy river bears ; Devill, who left a multitude of heirs ; Wheaton and Ingram, Miller, Ide and Peck. With Bowen, Bucklyn, Payne, near Wachemoquit Neck.
John Brown, the statesman, born a gentlemau, Who served his God, by serving common men ; Lover of freedom, both in Church and State, A noble man, a faithful magistrate.
Blanding and Bosworth, Daggett, Smith and Bullock ; Perry and Fuller, Mason, Graut and Woodcock ; Good men and true, their wives and children all In truth, as good as any since the Fall.
Brave Thomas Willett, Captain of the State, Standish's successor, with fame as great, Who laurels won at old Manhattan's town, And at Rehoboth's feet did lay them down.
Peace to their ashes, resting 'neath the sod Of yonder graveyard ; souls, they rest in God. Living, they come to cheer our burdened way, And lift our souls to Heaven's eternal day.
THE FIRST BAPTISM OF BLOOD AND FIRE.
The wilderness now,has been vanquished, The wild brier was fragant in June, The cornfields were bright for the harvest, And the farmers were resting at noon. When lo, on the southern horizon, A storm cloud quick threatens the land. 'Tis charged with the lightning of vengeance, From the hearts of a barbarous band.
From the heights of his throne, Metacomet Has marshalled his forces for war ; Their tomahawks sharp for the conflict, The torch and the knife gleam afar.
The camp fires are kindled on Montaup, And over the Titient shines The beacon which rouses the red man, - Its omen the white man divines.
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250THI ANNIVERSARY OF REHOBOTH.
Across the blue Narragansett Canonchet his warriors has sent ; Their cheeks are now fresh with the war paint, The blood of the Pilgrims they scent.
The roses are blooming at Seekonk, Their red is the omen of blood ; The moon was eclipsed in the evening. Was this a strange message from God ?
A runner has come from old Swanzey, The warning to Newman he brings ;
At midnight the war dance was lighted, To-day on the war-path they spring.
The settlers on broad Kickemuit, Have deserted their homes for the fray To strengthen the guard at Myles' fortress And hold the red warriors at bay.
The order has come from New Plymouth, Proclaiming a fast o'er the land. "To avert God's displeasure against us, The pestilence stay by his hand."
"Jehovah, the pilgrims' defender, Who hast saved from the storm and the flood,
To thy care we now meckly surrender ; - Oh, stay the sharp blows of thy rod."
"Our sins we most humbly confess them ; Like crimson our hearts are deep stained ; We merit the direst destruction, But save us in Jesus' great name."
"And now from your homes," cries the captain, "To the fort your old bell muzzles bring,
There are powder and bullets in plenty ; Round the cars of the redskins they'll sing."
" "Tis true we're not fond of such music, But we are not setting the tune. The red man may do some tall dancing Around the red roses of June."
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ORIGINAL POEM.
Then Newman, the younger, with mettle As true and as brave as his sire's, Takes command of his forces for battle ; Their courage in danger inspires.
The women and children safe gathered Within the broad "Ring of the Town," The parson and flock hunt for redmen- A dozen or more they shoot down.
The battles rage fiercely around them, These plains were well crimsoned with blood, Where Pierce, with a valor so splendid, Fell facing Pawtucket's swift flood.
The warwhoop sounds out the alarum, The Indians cover the plains, They stealthily hide in the thicket, While the people the garrison gain.
The story is told that one yeoman -- A Celt and the first in this land- Fled not from the face of the redman, But died with his Bible in hand.
Oh, sad was that dark night of terror When the torch swept this peaceable town ! It seemed like the fires of dark judgements, As rain from the heavens coming down.
'Twas Nero, the tyrant, who sported, When Rome from her proud station fell, 'Twas Philip of Montanp who revelled, While the fires raged, a pitiless hell.
Here Annawan, bravest of chieftans, Sought refuge in yon rocky wood, Whom Church from his eagle-eyed eyric Seized and slew with small tumult and blood.
The soil of yon Common is sacred, Its ashes are mingled with blood ; The red and the white fell together- Both await the great judgement of God.
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250TH ANNIVERSARY OF REHOBOTH.
The roses are blooming at Seekonk, The sweetbrier is fragant in June, War sleeps at the roots of the daisies, Sweet Peace yields her grateful perfume.
FREEDOM OF CHURCH AND STATE.
From scenes like these of earliest times, My Muse, turn thon away, And sing of happier hours and deeds, Of men of later day.
When Freedom, child of Western birth, Approached its natal honr ; And stern Oppression fought to hold Her strong but waning power,
Nature, stern savage, first was met. The fight is not yet o'er : From cape to gulf the contest's on, From ocean's shore to shore.
Our fathers met a sterner foe In hostile sons of men ; The Indian wars left many sears And tried their courage then.
United 'neath one common flag- The banner of the free- They marched along life's broad highway To grander liberty.
Each cycle as it swept around Unrolled a fresh-born hour; The century aloe bloomed anew With more Inxuriant flower.
The priest and people, equals then By common heritage, And equal sacrifice for peace, Proclaimed the coming age.
The watchmen on this Zion's walls Studied the starry night, And as Heaven's curtains rolled away Announced the rising light.
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ORIGINAL POEM.
The happier home, the freer school, Were streaks of morning's dawn, But brighter yet was manhood's growth In which our State was born.
The church fulfilled her mission high And led toward kindlier life ; She showed men how to live in love, To shun all earthly strife,
Except as truth should need defense- IIer breastwork then was men Who stood at Concord's stony bridge Or fell at Lexington.
The pulpit sounded forth, "To arms !" The pews the call obey ; The courage born of Christian faith Won all the victory.
With men of mother race there came The fratricidal strife ; The sons of Seekonk bravely stood To save the nation's life.
The star that led their pilgrim sires Across the western wave, Then reached its zenith ; o'er the world Its light to millions gave,
Till in these iatest days we dwell On Pisgah's lofty stand, And view bright Canaan yet afar- Our children's promised land.
How glad the promise of the hour,- Around us all is peace. Our homes are beauteous heavens below- We ask no swift release,
Onr neighbor dwells beyond the hills And o'er the stormy seas; We know no color, creed nor clan - Except the far Chinese.
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250TH ANNIVERSARY OF REHOBOTH.
Our chariots ride on wings of wind Across the land and main ; We chase the lightning in our speech; It lights our flying train.
We talk with men in far Cathay, And dine in our New York, We steam to London in four days, And supper take in Cork.
Our Uncle Sam he squints his eye Across our northern border, In half a jiffy stout John Bull Brands him as a marander.
"The Grand Old Man" in Parliament Declares for good home rule, And Cleveland echoes back "Amen," Before his words are cool.
A western town of fifty years Invites all to Chicago ; The warships of the world unite To say "We'll not to war go."
Onr women vote, orate and pray, And cook the best of dinners ; They drive seven devils out of men And watch for bigger sinners.
What's still to come no seer can say, No poet yet divine, One thing is true, we're moving on Along the appointed line.
From England old to England new- Columbia newer still,
From Newman of the elder stock, Through Greenwood, Hyde and Hill.
The veteran Barney, in whose years This church had strength and peace, Evans and Johnson, Woodworth, too, And Ferris last, not least.
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ORIGINAL POEM.
The church is freer than of yore, Her creeds are lighter grown, The Christ has entered human life To fill it with his own.
The State now stands for freedom large, In thought and action one ; The man of wealth and man of work Are equal 'neath our sun.
To-day, for blessings large and full, We owe to English stock, We grateful raise our voice of praise On this our Plymouth Rock.
The mother town salutes her own, - Her children strong and true, In coming time, with faith sublime, She'll conquests gain with you.
All honor to those noble sires, Who planted on these plains, The seeds of virtue, labor, truth, Whose fruitage rich remains.
May He who leads to pastures rich, Our guide and guardian be, Till in the west we sink to rest Beyond life's golden sea.
Read at the celebration of the 250th anniversary of the planting of the Newman Congregational Church and of the founding of the town of Rehoboth, June 7, 1803.
1
GEORGE N. GOFF.
129
BIOGRAPHICAL NOTES.
[ It is proper to add to the published account of the proceedings at the two hundred fiftieth anniversary of Rehoboth, brief biograph- ical notes of the Committee who served the Antiquarian Society and the town in the successful undertaking, and of two or three persons intimatly connected with the history of the town and the celebration. ]
Darius Goff.
Among the distinguished manufacturers of New Eng- land of the last half century, as a pioneer in the establish- ment of new and important manufacturing .industries. Darius Goff, of Pawtucket, R. I., was undoubtedly the foremost representative. Bred to the pursuit of textile manufacture, and gifted with mechanical insight and in- ventive talent, from the beginning to nearly the end of his long business career he labored to open untouched fields of industrial enterprise ; and by reason of the un- failing success of his numerous undertakings, creating and permanently establishing industries of great national importance, his legacy to American manufactures is of immeasurable value, demanding full recognition in the annals of permanent history.
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