Historical sketches of Watertown, Massachusetts, Part 5

Author: Whitney, Solon Franklin, 1831-1917
Publication date: 1893
Publisher: Watertown, Mass. : [s.n.]
Number of Pages: 140


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He made (March 28, 1837) some remarks on art, in speaking of the destruction of his okl church : "In passing the site of our old meeting-house, I observed that to-day the last remains had been leveled with the ground. The old spire came down, the cock bowed his head to the dust" (it is now perched ou the Methodist spire in the village) "after having stood manfully up amidst the winds of heaven. There is an interest attached to the humblest forms in which the genius of man makes itself apparent in outward shapes, however rude. Every church, every dwelling-house, every utensil we use in domestic life, every garment we wear, is a fragment in the great world of art, which has been building up ever since Adam. The individual forms and manifestations vanish, but art is ever reappearing. I believe, after all, I can never love my new church as I did the old one; it had been consecrated by years of prayer and instruction ; generations had come and gone, and had sought God and truth within its walls; old men were there, with their gray hairs, whose infant frouts had


been touched with the water of baptism at that altar."


This is not the place to present his peculiar doc- trines, or to present arguments in favor of his sound- ness in wisdom, or his success in reaching the truth.


The times were fertile in ideas and new organiza- tious. New England was in labor. Whether the off- spring of that day will help to bring on the millen- nium or not it is not the province of the historian to discuss. That the asperity of the controversies which began in those times is somewhat changed for the better, and that it found no occasion for being in Doctor Francis' mild, quiet, studious, loving life, there are many yet to testify.


There is in the Public Library a delightful portrait of Doctor Franeis in middle life, painted by Alexan- der, a noted Boston artist, and given by his daughter Abby a few months before her last sickness, the same time as when she entrusted to the same keeping the collection of his written sermons, that they might be near where they were produced, and perhaps where they would find the children of those to whom they were preached, who might, for their fathers' and mothers' sakes, like sometimes to test the earnestness and purity of heart with which they were written.


Whether the people of the town would be better served, would be more highly blessed, by the minis- trations of the church, if all the differences of opinion and of sentiment that now divides it into so many societie., with such sharp lines of doctrine, could be obliterated and all return into one fold, with one shepherd, as under the former ministers in the town church, or not, we will not attempt to answer.


As this period of Dr. Francis' long ministry (twen- ty-three years), which ended only with his accept- ance of the important Professorship of Pulpit Elo- quence in the Divinity School of Harvard University, in the summer of 1842, was the last one in which the toivn was united, we may find it pleasant to stop a moment to look it over.


We hoped to present an elevation of the old meet- ing-house, which was built, in 1755, enlarged in 1819, and demolished in 1836. We must be content with a plan of the seating of the church as it is remem- bered by some of the old people who are still living.


This plau was drawn by Charles Brigham, archi- tect, at the suggestion of Dr. Alfred Hosmer, presi- dent of the Historical Society of Watertown, and is the result of a large amount of labor and careful comparison of testimony. Here in the building thus represented were held all town-meetings.


The second Provincial Congress having assembled in Concord, on the 22d of April, 1775, adjourned to this house the same day ; the third Provincial Con- gress assembled here May 31st, and remained in ses- sion until July 19, 1775.


This house was immediately occupied by the Gen- ral Court, or Assembly of the Colony, until they ad- journed to the State-House, in Boston. It was again


1


334


HISTORY OF MIDDLESEX COUNTY, MASSACHUSETTS.


occupied by the General Conrt, in 1788, during the prevalence of small-pox in Boston.


This drawing shows a plan of the old meeting- house as it was when last used as a place of worship, in 1836. It stood in what is now a burial-ground, on the corner of Mt. Auburn and Common Streets. The names are of persons who are now known to have been pew-holders, or to have had sittings.


We wish the time and space allowed us would now allow us to give a short historical sketch of each per- son whose name is included in this significant plan. We cannot do better than present some reminiscences, from a member of the Historical Society, of


THE OLD MEETING-HOUSE.1-The old meeting- house, so truthfully sketched by Mr. Brigham, has a greater interest for the towns-man of to- day than could possibly belong to any church edifice of the present time, similarly reproduced a century or two hence. The modern structure would only represent the particular occupants thereof, and their peculiar traits, whereas the one now under consideration has a secular, as well as a religious history. Throughout its entire existence it was the only place where the town-meetings were held, and that elliptically enclosed space below the pulpit, de signed for the dispensation of church ordinances, was also the forum where the edicts of the town were uttered and recorded.


In this place the moderator rehearsed the usual " Articles " of the " Warrant " in their order with the conventionally reiterated phrases of "To see," "To know" and " Act thereon," so familiar to everybody nowadays. The people have not always received a printed copy of this document at their doors-a written copy was posted in a glass-covered case at the front door of the meeting-house, for the prescribed number of days. And where also every man, young or old, before he could take to his home, in lawful wedloek, the partner of his bosom, must have his inteutious to do so, " published " over the signature of the town clerk during three successive Sundays. The town-reports also were not published, and could be consulted only by a resort to the records of the town clerk.


In the earlier days of the old meeting-house the town and the parish were an involuntary co-partner- ship-the minister was called the "minister of the town." An inhabitant belonged to the parish, nolens volens-and in a more chattel sense than was agreeable to an inconsiderable minority of persons. A tax-payer might abstain from its teachings, but there were only two ways of escape from contributing to its support-either to move away, or die, before the 1st day of May. Afterward the law was so modified that scruples could be relieved by " signing off " (as it was called) to some other specified parish. And still later on, all persons were exempted from involuntary


taxation for religious purposes. This was the final sundering of church and state in Massachusetts.


Selfish ends have been attained often by shrewd foresight and sharp practice. The clustering meui- ories of the old meeting-house call up a transaction which, in the attending squabble, and the eminent counsel engaged, had at the time all the importance of a " eause celebre."


Property belonging to the town had been set apart, by an act of incorporation, for the support of the "Minister of the Town."


About fifty years ago, when the population bad in- creased, and new parishes had been formed, a major- ity of the inhabitants petitioned the Legislature that the act of incorporation might be so changed that the incomeof the " ministerial fund," so-called, would re- vert to the treasury of the town.


The contention then was that, as the ministry of the town had become a subdivided function, the town provender should be correspondingiy distributed, or else remain in the granary. Moreover, the "Minister of the Town," municipally, no longer existed-and casuists queried whether the " ministerial fund," also, had not lapsed with the beneficiary. The petition was argued, pro and con, by eminent counsel, before a committee of the Legislature, who reported leave to withdraw, on account, as was said, of the troublesome precedent of disturbing oll vested rights and inter- ests-some captions persons have pretended to descry a similar paradox in this case to that of the old jaek- knife that claimed identity with one that had a new blade, and a new handle.


The particular topic to which my random recollec- tions were invited was a Sunday in the old " Meet- ing-house." I have made a prelude of its week-day history, which in its entirety would comprise a his- tory of town affairs for a century, the later years of which will not much longer be rehearsed by eye-wit- nesses. My own, experience in the Sunday services of the old meeting-house occurred in its latter days, now more than three-score years ago, when, and where, for a short time, in my early 'teens, I took part in the instrumental accompaniment to the church choir. The associations and personal friendships of those days have been unavoidably interrupted, but they will be remembered as long as the faculty for so doing remains.


The especial object of interest iu the Sunday ser- vice is the occupant of the pulpit, and to which ob- ject all other arrangements are incidental and tribu- tary. The incumbent under our notice, the late Rev. Convers Francis, D.D., was a man of medium height and stocky build, made apparently more so when in the pulpit, by the ample folds of his silken robe. Under the canopy of the great broad sounding-board, which, by its seemingly slender hanging, menanced whoever stood beneath it with probable destruction, he unaffectedly delivered his always carefully written sermons, a large collection, of which, in their origi-


1 By Joshua Coolidge, Esq.


OLD MEETING HOUSE IN WHICH THE PROVINCIAL CONGRESS HELD THEIR SECOND AND THIRD SESSIONS


Abraham Sanger


And Pest GA. Mentum Gilbert


Pulpit


Liver more


Pomeroy


Harnngton


Descons Seat


Sherman


Brip't


Paul Kendall Jer UGeo. Russel A


Abraham Lincoln Lydia SpreQue


Michael Gdy


Dr. W Hunsend


Charles Stratton


Major Jackson Col. S. leamed


Luther Barrell


Wath Broad Re Theo Parker


Abişıh white


Patten


Thanter


John Clark


Elisha Livermore


Tyler Bigelow


Pari Learned Daniel Leamed


Traddeus Cole


Ber Converse Francis


Dr H. Hoymer


Caleb Lincoln


Thomas Learned


Dea J Harrington Dea Arud


Jonas white


Brigham


Marry Bright


Luke Demis


James Kidder


Buckett and Stedman


Misser Cook Peter Cocknon


Nathaniel Berms


Robinjan


Thomas


Dea. Moses Coolidge


NAIR whing Dea Chal. State


Seth Benig


Jaucheus Pond


PORCH AND


ENTRANCE


ENTRANCE


Samuel Leamed Adam Brown


Samuel Barry


Joel Pierce charles Whitney


Math"! Bright


lough Bird


Dencon Tucker


ASE Stone


Josiah learned


Leonard Stone


Richard Sanger Elisha whitney


Dr. chas Tollen. Edward Everett


Christopher Grant


Eben Cheney


Sam Bird Francis Bright


Mark Vase


Miles Preble Sprague - Pratt


Eltakım Marye


Moses Chenery


John Richardgame


James Robbing


Col. Bond


David Livermore


Jos. Crash My Wesson!


MAIN ENTRANCE


Samuel Bernard


Thomas Clark


Peter Card Joy sh


Am Horne


Elinha Jana Cvo Robbing Thank Robbing


Francis Leathe


Bailey


İşzac Dana


Like


Stairs to Gallery


Marshall Forle


TOWER ANO


Daniel Bond


Harrington James Gilpatrick


.PLAN . OF . GROVND FLOOR.


Michaly


Win May


335


WATERTOWN.


nal manuscript, are in the custody of the Free Public Library.


It seemed strange that one so amply endowed with exuberance of thought and fluency of speech never indulged in extemporaneous discourse in the pulpit. He could "reason of fate, foreknowledge and free- will," " from rosy morn till dewy eve," without note or break, and for conversation needed only a listener to make the onflow continuous. He did not affect those graces of oratory that are exemplied by gestic- ulation, his emotion never found vent through his arms, nor did he ever attempt to make a point clearer by laying one fore-finger upon the other. His con- victions might have been shaken by argument, but they could not have been burned out of him with fire. His contempt for all 'isms and 'ologies other than his own was never disguised by any blandish- inents of demeanor.


He was equally vigorous in body and mind-books were as essential to his existence as bread, and were he required to dispense with either, he would have experimented up to the starvation point, at least, upon a diet of books alone. Many of those he read became much enlarged by his annotations upon the fly-leaves and margins-sentences would be under- lined-exclamation and interrogation points sprin- kled in-and in the margins would be found the "pshaws," or "bahs," or "boshes," or other forcible expressions, according to the intensity of his agree- ment or dissent. A great university of learning, to him, was more worthy of reverence than almost any other human achievement. He made frequent visits on foot to Cambridge, where he was ultimately called to a professorship. This was his Mecca, and before whose shrine he passed the remainder of his days. I occasionally met him in the vicinity of the college, when he always stopped for a friendly chat about affairs in Watertown, and the current topics of the day-especially of the anti-slavery movement, which was then at full tide-in which he took a deep inter- est, and for the noted advocates of which he had great admiration. The conservatism of his former years had melted away, and a wider field had been opened to his views and his desires. Mr. Brigham has given us a sketch of the pews and the names of their occu- pants also, with all the correctness of a sun-picture ; but the history of a "Sunday service " would be lack- ing without the mention of an occurrence which was frequently repeated, and which in any worshipping assembly of to-day would be a startling shock to the prevailing sense of propriety.


It was the custom to turn up the hinged seats in the pews in order to make room. At the close of the standing services they would come down with a whang and a clatter closely resembling the report of a vol- ley of musketry by an undrilled company of militia ; yet the devotional demeanor of the occasion was not disturbed, either in the pulpit or in the pews. In our sketch personal allusions are preclu ded through


fears both of forgetfulness and seeming invidiousness. But there was one more, at least, who was part and parcel of our theme. He had a place in the front centre of the singing-gallery, where he accompanied the choir upon the 'cello. The sexton and the bell were no more punctually present in their vocation than was Col. Thomas Learned. He lived in a house, the site of which is now occupied by the house of Mr. Charles Q. Pierce-from which, twice every Sun- day, he could be seen with his instrument of music under his arm, wending his way to the church. And during the tolling of the " last bell " he was occupied with " tuning up," and the mingling of the soft con- cordant sounds were a more fitting and pleasurable prelude to the succeeding exercises than the preten- tious hullabaloo now sometimes inflicted as a "vol- untary." He was also self-appointing tithingman whenever the need existed-sometimes he would pro- ceed to the vicinity of a group of disorderly boys in the " free-seats," and either push them apart and seat himself among them or else take the biggest rogue by the collar and lead him back to his own seat in the choir.


The attraction as well as the edifying influences of the singing service were as well understood and appre- ciated in those days as at present. If there were per- sons who were indifferent, to say the least, to their own spiritual welfare, might they not be "moved by the concord of sweet sounds," and thereby be brought within reach of the more salutary influences of the pulpit? Therefore, preparatory measures must be kept in operation for the replenishment of this branch of the service. Music was not a part of the town-school curriculum-the average scholar came out of it, finally, with as little ability (gained therein) to read a staff of printed music, as he had to compre- hend the geometrical intricacies of the differential calculus. Now, "we have changed all that."


This want was supplied by the village singing- school. It never attempted to exemplify "High Art," nor to produce extraordinary individual pro- ficiency ; it did not aim at the training of profes- sional " stars," but of a company of supernumeraries that would be available for the Sunday service of song. Other objects and influences incidentally grew out of and into it-the social element became prom- inent ; it afforded remarkably congenial conditions for the development of the " tender passion ;" conjugal . affinities were brought within that sphere of mutual attraction where, "like kindred drops, they mingled into one ;" and many a fragrant flower there found recognition, which otherwise might have " wasted its sweetness on the desert air."


The village singing-school passed away with the demise of our sturdy townsmen and intimate friends, Messrs. Joseph and Horace Bird. They rendered ef- fectual voluntary aid to the singing services of the "old meeting-house " for a considerable time, mean- while qualifying themselves, by study and practice


336


HISTORY OF MIDDLESEX COUNTY, MASSACHUSETTS.


under higher professional sources, to become teachers of this particular science, in which capacity they were widely known and esteemed, during forty years in our own and many neighboring towns, where they successfully practiced their special vocation. They never needed importunity to take part in any move- ment that had in view the public welfare or the re- lief of private want.


Of the male members of the singing choir during my own sojourn, whose names and faces are still vividly in mind, there is not one now to be found. Of those in the same department, who, in the familiar- ity of youthful intimacy, were called " the girls," but two can be recalled, who would hear the sound of the old church-bell could it again peal forth from the newly reproduced steeple. And the occupants of the pews, excepting those who were then in early child- hood, ean now be counted upon the fingers - and some of these, although living in their original homes, are residents of another town. And many of the family names borne by those who congregated in the old meeting-house, have become extinet, or are tend- ing in that direction.


The losses we have enumerated were in the order of Providence, and therefore could not have been averted-others may have occurred through negli- gence. The associations connected with the history of the old meeting-house were of sufficient interest to haveinduced, if possible, its further preservation-and it would have seemed proper action on the part of the town to have determined by examination and discus- sion, whether the "sentence " of demolition should not have been commuted. But fate deereed otherwise. And the structure that sheltered the Provincial Con- gress while in direful circumstances, passed away, "unwept, unhonored and unsung," and the green lawn upon which it stood was transformed into a final resting-place for the descendants of those who reared and occupied it.


Our readers will certainly pardon the wide range which memory of a place occupied for so diverse pur- poses as the town meeting-house calls up in the charming sketch which we have inserted without change or suggestion.


That the town, the modern New England town, the unit which is everywhere repeated, although in various combinations, in the organization of the State and the nation, had its origin in the parish, we perhaps have here one of the last chances to see. Originally an ecclesiastical organization, growing out of the demo- cratic origin of the Christian church, the idea of the public good has in time come to be larger than the idea of kings or of any privileged elass. In the history of this church, this town, we see the municipal order separating from any and all churches, and launching out upon the independent, the broad and generalized idea of existence for the public good, and henceforth meeting (from 1847) in a town-house constructed for the purpose, wholly freed from ecclesiastical questions,


determining, it must be confessed, sometimes in a most tumultuous fashion, what shall be done for the re- straining of eriminals, the preservation of property, the education of the young, the care of the poor, and all those various concerns suggested by the common convenience.


This is rather suggested by considering the history of the town than of the church. But so far they were inseparable.


Rev. John Weiss was ordained October 25, 1843. He resigned October 3, 1845, because of his strong anti-slavery convictions, but resumed his pastorate on invitation of the parish iu 1846, and continued till his resignation in November, 1847, when he was in- stalled as pastor of the First Congregational Society in New Bedford.


Rev. Hasbrouck Davis was ordained March 28, 1849. He resigned May 11, 1853,


Rev. George Bradford was ordained November 6, 1856. He died February 17, 1859, after a brief but useful ministry.


Rev. Arthur B. Fuller became pastor March 1, 1860, and resigned in 1862, and enlisted with Com- pany K, (?) receiving the appointment of chaplain of the regiment. He was shot in the streets of Freder- icksburg, having volunteered to go over the river to the attack.


In June of this year Rev. John Weiss returned by invitation and preached for the society until 1869.


Of Mr. Weiss, the first minister ordained after the society was wholly separated from the town govern- mient, and serving long after all of the present churches-but one, the Episcopal-were established, much might be said. The time is too recent, although his service began nearly fifty years ago, and feelings are still too unsettled, the perspective too short, for a clear and impartial statement of the value of his labors. His services in the work of the public schools and in the establishment of the Free Publie Library were of inestimable worth to the town. As time passes they will rise higher in the regard of his fel- lows. Mr. Weiss was born in Boston in June, 1818, and died there March 9, 1879. He went to the Chauncy Hall School for a while and afterwards to the Framingham Academy, from whence he went to Harvard College in 1833, graduating in the class of 1837, taught for a time at Jamaica Plain, entered Harvard Divinity School in 1840, spent the winter of 1842-43 at Heidelberg University in Germany, and on his return to this country was ordained, as we have stated, in 1843, over this old parish church.


Looking back over his whole service, his brilliant preaching, his interest in all forms of education, his cheerful and playful manners, his wit, and yet his earnestness, we are glad to take refuge in the appre- eiative words of O. B. Frothingham, a classmate and life-long friend, who says of him, in the course of quite a long article :


"This man was a flame of fire. He was genius,


337


WATERTOWN.


unalloyed by terrestrial considerations ; a spirit- lamp, always burning. He had an overflow of nervous vitality, an exeess of spiritual life that could not find vents enough for its discharge. As his figure comes before me, it seems that of one who is more than half transfigured. His large head; his ample brow ; his great, dark eyes ; his 'sable-silvered ' beard and full moustache ; his gray hair, thick and close on top, with the strange line of black beneath it like a fillet of jet ; his thin, piping, penetrating, tenuous voice, that trembled as it conveyed the torrent of thought ; the rapid, sudden manner, suggesting some- times the lark and sometimes the eagle ; the small but sinewy body ; the delicate hands and feet ; the sensi- tive touch, all indicated a half-disembodied soul."


Soon after he graduated " he read a sermon on the supremacy of the spiritual element in character, which impressed me as few pulpit utterances ever did, so fine was it ; so subtle, yet so massive in conviction." Afterwards in New Bedford, he gave a discourse on materialism, which "derived force from the intense earnestness of its delivery, as by one who could look into the invisible world, and could speak no light word or consult transient effects. Many years later, I listened in New York, to his lectures on Greek ideas, the keenest interpretation of the ancient myths, the most profound, fuminous, sympathetic. He had the faculty of reading between the lines, of apprehending the hidden meaning, of setting the old stories in the light of universal ideas, of lighting up allusions.


" His genius was eminently religious. Not, indeed, in any customary fashion, nor after any usual way. Ile belonged to the Rationalists, was a Protestant of an extreme type, an avowed adherent of the most "advanced' views. His was a purely natural, scien- tific, spiritual faith, unorthodox to the last degree, logically, historically, critically, sentimentally so.


"He had an agonized impatience to know what- ever was to be known, to get at the ultimate. Evi- denee that to most minds seemed fatal to belief was, in his siglit, conformity of it, as rendering its need more elear and more imperions. ' We need be afraid of nothing in heaven or earth, whether dreamt of or not in our philosophy.'"




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