USA > Massachusetts > Middlesex County > Marlborough > History of the town of Marlborough, Middlesex county, Massachusetts, from its first settlement in 1657 to 1861; with a brief sketch of the town of Northborough, a genealogy of the families in Marlborough to 1800 > Part 49
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hardy sons, was among those who, like Moses, " were not afraid of the King's commandment," but showed their devotion to liberty by arming in its defense.
My parents held a humble position in this community, and have found a resting-place beneath your soil. Three sisters, reared beneath the same roof with myself, repose in yonder graveyard, while I, the sole member of the family, remain. It was within this town, and in sight of this very spot, that I drew my first vital breath. Here were the sports of my childhood ; and here, amid the gay visions of youth, were formed those habits, and those modes of thought, which have contributed to shape my humble destiny. In your venerable old meeting-house on the southerly slope of this hill, I was, by parental fidelity, offered up to Him in whose service I have attempted to labor in the community. In your schools I received my first lessons of instruction, and in the same little seminaries, forty years ago, I endeavored to impart the rudiments of science to your children, some of whom I have had the pleasure of greeting this day. I have min- gled my labor with your soil, and devoted some of my most anxious thought to the improvement and welfare of those confidingly com- mitted to my care, when their minds were the most susceptible of impressions.
I mused in early life upon your delightful seenery ; and your beau- tiful hill-sides, your placid lake, your forests of fruit-trees, which attracted my early gaze, have left an impression upon my heart which the cares of an active and somewhat varying life have by no means effaced. And never did the glorious old town appear more lovely than she does to-day. Her rich verdant carpet, decked and adorned with flowers of various tints, her fruit and ornamental trees, casting their cooling shade upon the fair fields and lawns, and giving a deeper hue to the face of nature, her gracefully swelling elevations, and her broad, luxuriant vales, -- these, blending in nature's harmony, present a scene of rich and varying beauty rarely to be met with.
But her flowery meads and grassy hill-sides, her gentle flowing river and her murmuring rills, her fields with golden harvests, and her orchards bending with delicious fruits, however pleasing to the eye or grateful to the sense, are less dear to my heart than the fond recollections of past friendships, renewed this day by cordial greetings and generous sympathies. The past and the present-all that I have known heretofore, and all I have witnessed this day-combine to strengthen the ties which bind me to the old homestead; and what- ever may be my fortune, during the rest of my brief sojourn here below, the recollections of MARLBOROUGH will be fondly cherished, and her prosperity and happiness will ever cheer and gladden my heart.
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At the close of the Address, which was listened to with deep interest, the Musical Association of the 'Borough Towns sung, to the air of "Fair Harvard," the following
ORIGINAL ODE: BY HORATIO ALGER, JR.
From the door of the homestead the mother looks forth,
With a glance half of hope, half of fear, For the clock in the corner now points to the hour, When the children she loves should appear. For have they not promised, whatever betide, On this, their dear mother's birth-day,
To gather once more round the family board, Their dutiful service to pay.
From the East and the West, from the North and the South, In communion and intercourse sweet, Her children have come on this festival day, To sit, as of old, at her feet. And our mother, God bless her benevolent face ! How her heart thrills with motherly joys,
As she stands at the portal with arms opened wide, To welcome her girls and her boys.
And yet, when the first joyful greetings are o'er, When the words of her welcome are said, A shadow creeps over her motherly face, As she silently thinks of the dead- Of the children whose voices once rang through her fields, Who shared all her hopes and alarms, Till, tired with the burden and heat of the day, They have fallen asleep in her arms.
They have gone from our midst, but their labors abide On the fields where they prayerfully wrought ; They scattered the seed, but the harvest is ours, By their toil and self-sacrifice bought. As we scan the fair scene that once greeted their eyes, As we tread the same paths which they trod, Let us tenderly think of our elders by birth, Who have gone to their rest and their God.
God bless the old homestead ! some linger there still, In the haunts which their childhood has known, While others have wandered to places remote, And staked out new farms of their own ;
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But time cannot weaken the ties Love creates, Nor absence nor distance impede
The filial devotion which thrills all our hearts,
As we bid our old mother, God speed !
While these services were going on in the Pavilion, the Schools of Marlborough and the neighboring towns, with their friends, under the direction of D. B. Goodale, to the number of thirteen hundred persons, having formed a portion of the grand Procession on a part of the route, repaired to Fairmount, where they spent the time very pleasantly in singing appropriate pieces, listening to addresses from several gentlemen, and partaking of refreshments with which each scholar was furnished, inclosed in a neat bag, with a suitable motto on the outside.
After these Commemorative Exercises were closed, a Proces- sion was formed of those holding tickets to the dinner, which proceeded to an ample tent, located on land of Henry Rice, Esq., a little south of the Town-House, in which plates had been laid for sixteen hundred people, by J. B. Smith, of Boston.
When the tables were filled with guests, the President of the day, in calling them to order, spoke as follows :
Ladies and Gentlemen :
By direction of the Committee of Arrangements, and in behalf of the inhabitants of Marlborough, I extend to you, one and all, a hearty, cordial welcome on this occasion, so full of deep interest. They are made proud and happy by this visit, and the noble response which has been given to their invitation. And, let me say, more especially does Marlborough rejoice to see her children and grand-child, after so long an absence, return in such numbers to the maternal roof, to pay their homage and gratitude to their aged and venerable parent, for the care and protection she bestowed upon them, until they became of age and set up for themselves. Well may she feel a just pride in her offspring, who, after so long an absence, return at her bidding, not in poverty or disgrace, but exhibiting all the signs of health and prosper- ity, and coming home to greet their aged parent with affection and gratitude. Unlike the prodigal son, they have not spent their patri- mony in riotous living, and been made to eat husks, or come clothed in rags; but by their enterprise, industry and sobriety, they exhibit all the signs of respectability and independence.
Like another personage in the same parable, this aged mother, when apprised of her children's approach, ran out to meet them, greeted them with a mother's affection, has, as you see, killed the
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fatted calf, and in her joy has made a feast, which you see before you. There is another fact which adds to her pleasure. There is no eldest son or daughter who is wroth, and refuses to come in ; but all are here, joyous and happy.
Where shall we find a parallel to this spectacle ;- a venerable matron, two hundred years old, with her children and grand-child around her, so far from exhibiting signs of decay, she is, if possible, more vigorous than ever, and shows more activity, enterprise, wealth, comforts and luxuries, than she did a hundred years ago.
Let us, then, as representatives and in behalf of the children and grand-child, ever hold her in grateful remembrance for her hospi- tality, and the kindness and liberality which we have received at her hands.
A blessing was then invoked by Rev. WILLIAM MORSE, of Tyngsborough, a former minister of Marlborough.
At the close of the dinner, the following ORIGINAL ODE Was sung, composed for the occasion, by WILLIAM F. ALLEN, Esq., of West Newton.
With praises and thanksgivings To God, our hearts o'erflow, Who guided here our fathers Two hundred years ago. The seed they freely scattered Has yielded hundred-fold,
And farm, and shop, and fireside Bless those good men of old.
Their sons who this day gather, Their praise to celebrate, Have gone through every nation, Have founded many a state ; But dear New England ever, Where'er the wanderer strays,
Is home to him in manhood, As in his childhood's days.
Thou, whose right hand led hither Those men whose names we bear, And who hast kept their children Within thy fostering care ; May peace, and thrift, and virtue, Still bless this ancient town, And may our acts ne'er sully Our noble sires' renown.
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At the close of the repast, the President of the day spoke as follows :
Ladies and Gentlemen :
Occupying the position which has been so generously assigned me, it is my earnest desire to discharge the duties of the Chair in the most faithful manner.
I beg leave, therefore, to call your attention to a subject of vital importance to you all, although it is painful for me to allude to it. But as I am placed here not only to preserve order, but also to preserve you from harm, and feeling that many of you were exposed to immi- nent peril, without, perhaps, being aware of your danger, I can no longer keep silence ; and I have no doubt many of you will hereafter hold me in grateful remembrance for this timely warning.
Perhaps there is no branch of science upon which more has been written, none which has engaged the attention of the most learned to a greater extent, than that of physiology ; and no part of this sci- ence has been more ably discussed than that relating to diet. Now, if I mistake not, all writers agree that, if we would preserve health and secure long life, we must practice temperance in eating as well as in drinking, and that excessive indulgence in either is perilous, if not fatal, in its consequences.
As I was early apprised that the renowned J. B. Smith (long known among epicures) was to be the caterer here, I have felt great solicitude lest he, as usual, should spread before you too many temptations ; and looking around these tables during this repast, perceiving the industry displayed here, and how rapidly the edibles disappeared, my anxiety has got the better of my modesty ; and, painful as it is, I feel con- strained to say to you, that in my humble opinion, any farther indul- gence will, most likely, be attended with consequences, to many of you, fearful to contemplate. I would, therefore, most earnestly urge upon you, one and all, at once to sign the pledge to abstain from fur- ther indulgence.
You will perceive that this warning is the more timely, when I inform you that there is another course to be served up, of several kinds of toast, very highly seasoned, and full of spice, which has been prepared and will be spread before you. And let me add, that if any of you are called upon, or desire to express an opinion as to the quality of the toast, I am requested by the Committee of Arrange- ments to limit each speaker to not exceeding ten minutes. As so many have come here primed and loaded, each must have an oppor- tunity to discharge himself. Now I trust it will be remembered that I have been a distinguished (?) military man, evidently born to command. I trust, therefore, no one will presume to disobey orders.
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I will now introduce to you HOLLIS LORING, Esq., the Toastmaster of the day.
Mr. LORING then read the following sentiments :
1. This Centennial Gathering of the ' Borough Families-An occasion consecra- ted to grateful recollections, to cherished anticipations, and to social, fraternal and Christian greetings.
2. A cordial welcome home to our eldest Daughter, Westborough,-who, one hun- dred and forty-three years ago, received our western border for her inheritance ; whose precepts and examples have been a noble Reform School, even to the present generation.
Hon. EDWARD MELLEN, of Wayland, a native of Westbor- ough, responded substantially as follows :
Mr. President :
Through you, let me express my thanks to my townsmen for the honor they have done me in this call to answer for them on this great occasion. They have done this, doubtless, because they know that though removed from them, my heart abides ever with the friends and associates of my youth. The oak is not an unfit emblem to express my attachment to my native soil.
They will permit me to say that few things could be more grateful to me, after an absence of many years, than to feel, as I am made this day to feel, that I still fill a space in their kind regards. Let me assure them, too, that whatever success or distinction I have won in the world, they are chiefly grateful to me in that I can share them with my fellow-townsmen.
I see around me men whose wise counsel and actions won my youthful regard, and whose consistency, fidelity and purity through life, now in their old age challenge my reverence.
The younger generation is known to me, mainly, by wearing the blended features of their parents, the companions of my youth ; and they, too, share largely in my kind regards. And, Mr. President, as we came up this morning in tribes, in the procession, I confess my heart warmed to the tartan, and I am here to do their bidding.
We one and all thank our hosts for the honor of joining them in expressing our regard for our common ancestors. We cannot forget, on this or on any occasion, how close and near is the alliance of your families with our families, alike honored in your and our memories ; the Brecks, the Parkmans, the Brighams, the Howes, and a long cat- alogue of families, common to both, and revered alike in both munici- palities.
We come, and with one blending voice and sympathy, greet you on
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this occasion, hallowed by its great associations, by memories calling up a line of common and honored ancestry ; and by anticipation, hailing the generations that in long succession are to fill the places we now fill.
We hail this auspicious occasion, and rejoice to join with you in its celebration. It is fit and orderly thus to unite in paying honor to the dead. There is a weak and pusillanimous pride of ancestry that debases ; and there is a respect for ancestors which the heart owns and the understanding ratifies, which exalts the character and refines the intellect. Under the influence of this sentiment, as we came up this morning through your beautiful town, your hills and plains assumed a new appearance, a fresher aspect, beneath the inspiration of thronging associations. They seemed to kindle into beauty as we thought of the toils, and sympathized with the sufferings, of our com- mon ancestors, as we came at the end of two centuries to manifest our regard for their characters, to pay a tribute to their worth, and to express our admiration for their heroism.
Let us glance at some of the facts in their history.
In the three French wars, extending through a term of thirty-three years, probably there was not a township in New England without a loss of more or less of her inhabitants ; and in some of these wars hardly a household remained unbroken. During the war in 1745, when Louisburg was taken from the French, I believe the Colonies of New England maintained for one or two years, and paid from their own treasures, more men against the French than were mustered into service at any one time in our late war with England.
These various wars, with the King Philip war, lasted for thirty-four years. During these wars, the lines between the Colonies of the two great nations were often run in fire and blood by the allied arms of Old England and New England, on the one hand, and of France and her Indian allies, on the other, till in 1763, on the ridges of battle, was planted the olive of peace.
From the first settlement of this town to the close of the Revolu- tion, our fathers had been engaged in wars for the term of forty-two years. Adding the harrassing and murderous wars from 1660 to the 12th of August, 1676, the date of the close of the King Philip war, when the infant Colonies literally, without a figure of speech, slept upon their arms, cultivated and gathered their crops with arms in one hand and the implements of husbandry in the other, they had wars for the space of fifty-eight years.
In looking over the histories of our towns, one is struck with wonder at the courage and perseverance of the men of that day. About twenty months after the treaty of Paris, in 1763, the British Parliament, on the 22d day of March, 1765, passed the Stamp Act.
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We forget the impolicy of that measure of legislation, when we think it was aimed at those colonists who had shared the hardships, and won with their allied arms the success and glories of the conquest.
It is now nearly a century and a half since we parted from the parent town. We were then a feeble, scattered band, hovering, trem- bling on the verge of the frontier of civilization, having no town between us and Brookfield on the west, at the distance of forty miles. Since then we have one fair daughter. She is settled in that beautiful valley, protected on the north, east and west, by sheltering hills. You will permit us to praise her, as all families are proud of an only daughter. We trust, Mr. President, you will contrive, before this occasion is passed, to uuseal the golden lips of silence, and let us all hear her voice.
Our fathers took the Puritan doctrines that united purity with firm- ness, from their homes in England, and transferred and practiced them in their new homes here in the wilderness, whither they went.
Permit me here, as I have not the fortune to have my home in my native town, to speak freely of the virtues of those who remain in the old hive. Of the living, let us pass them in silence, for it has been well said, " The voice of eulogy sounds ever harsh, save when it comes back, softened by an echo, from the tomb."
The town of Westborough has not forgotten either the educational or religious institutions of the forefathers. She has sent forth into all the learned professions men who have reaped in all a harvest of renown. We conld mention individuals in each calling, but it might seem invidious. We have sent forth one, Eli Whitney, (he bore, while living, his honors so unostentatiously, that he excited no man's envy,) who, by his inventive genius, trebled in value the whole cotton growing lands of the South. This is said by Judge Johnson, an entirely competent authority, to have been done by the invention of the cotton-gin.
But let me say, however, that it is not mainly in their material wealth, they have a right to claim distinction ; but in industry, manly independence, intelligence and freedom of thought; it is in these they have a right to stand as the peers of the inhabitants of any other municipality.
Mr. President, I could not suppress the spontaneous utterance of so much of praise of the past generations, and would not, if I could. After a somewhat careful study of their character, I am happy, on this occasion, to give this tribute to their memory. It is fit and be- coming that local histories and local celebrations should be multiplied. They tend to preserve the memories of those good men, whose lives have been a continual struggle against an adverse current, beneath which, at last, they have sunk; leaving none to record their fate or
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their virtues, after the living witnesses have passed away. They were types of those, of whom a recent Scotch poet, Nicholl, has sung, he being one of the number :
The pious poor man sleeps at length, Where pains and toils are o'er ; The bitter wind-the hunger fiend --- Can torture him no more.
These celebrations will make more lasting the memory of such as exist in every locality, men and women, whose character and virtues are their priceless treasure, and who deserve a memorial as lasting as marble. Such as these, are the glory of the homes of our childhood, whom we can never forget, and whom we can never remember without an affectionate regard; and who endear the scenes with which their memories are forever associated, shedding a light on our pathway at every stage of our progress. These memories of our village Hamp- dens, " inglorious " only for want of an opportunity ; and of that larger class who, by every means within their reach, have been useful in their generation. in order to leave the world better, because they have lived in it, should be gathered up, and made perpetual. Theirs was not a wide theatre, but they acted well their parts; and for the sake of their localities, as well as of themselves, their memories should not be permitted to perish from among men.
We cannot but feel that it is good for us to be here, to survey anew, as we have to-day, the foundations of our towns ; to trace their varied progress, now well nigh extinguished in blood ; now, with one united effort, struggling to avert the perils of despotie power ; and then, emerging into the clear current of freedom, broadening and deepening as it runs. We are here to express our reverence for the characters of the founders of our towns, for their heroism and independence ; to catch and embathe our spirits in the fragrancy of their virtues. Our successors will rise with far higher opportunities than those of our ancestors, and though pigmies, they will stand on the giant shoulders of their and our Fathers ; but most fortunate will they be, if they can rival the manly virtues and qualities of those sires.
God grant to those, who shall come in long succession after us, to see by the eye of faith as clear as our Fathers saw in their day, " the chariots of fire, and the horses of fire," that were to go before them to victory. Let me close by a sentiment :
To the memory of our Fathers in the ancient town of Marlborough. They laid deep the foundations of our prosperity, in establishing free churches and free schools ; and whatever success or honors we have won, to their memory we ascribe the praise.
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3. Our fair Daughter, Southborough-Although she resides at the South, yet we are glad to know that she agrees in sentiment with her Mother ; that she goes for " free soil, free speech, and free men."
The following response was made by Rev. WILLIAM J. BREED, of Southborough :
Mr. President :
There is a chord in the human heart which vibrates mysteriously to every whisper, that steals upon us from the solemn shades of antiquity. We feel the inexplicable thrill, when we sit down by the side of a river, and think how many ages before we existed, its restless waters rolled ocean-ward ; and so when we penetrate the forest, heavy with the moss of ages, or gaze upon some stupendous mountain cliff, that has frowned in its solitary grandeur, amidst the warring elements, ever since creation was finished ; and above all, when in the stilly night we gaze upon the glories of the over-canopying firmament, and think how long those silent watchers of the night have traversed their orbits, and poured their light through the illimitable regions of space. With emotions akin to these, does the bosom of the Christian traveler glow, when he contemplates the works and dwellings of the ancient men of renown. As he ruminates among the ruins of Grecian, or Roman grandeur, what thrilling associations rise up around him at every step ! What gigantic forms flit before the mental eye, as in the dim twilight, he muses over broken arches, and crumbling porticoes ! Strange, indeed, is the communion which we hold with the illustrious dead of remote antiquity. We hear the thunder of Demosthenes at Athens, and we see the throne of Philip quake. We behold Cataline return to form new conspiracies against the liberties of Rome, and we see Cicero driving him, with confusion and desperation, from the Senate-house. The sublimest and sweetest notes of Homer and Virgil break upon our ravished ear, and we wander and luxuriate amidst scenes of enchantment. If such are the creations of the fancy by which we find ourselves surrounded, in Greece and Italy, what would be the emotions of the true descendants of Solon, Themistocles and Leonidas, or of Brutus and the Scipios, could they trace back their genealogy to those illustrious men, and surveying the splendid ruins of their power and greatness, say, Those men were our fathers. Their blood still flows warm in our veins. Their memorial is embalmed in our hearts, though the glory has long since departed from their once loved land.
So natural are such reflections and emotions to man, that there. is no civilized nation, or even savage tribe, in which a deep reverence is felt for a remote ancestry. This thrilling interest in the antiqui-
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ties of a nation to which we belong, may be carried too far ; but more than cold, and casual allusions, are certainly due to the memory of those, from whom, under God, a happy posterity have received une- qualed civil and religious blessings and immunities. If the founders of states and towns were ever entitled to live in the grateful remem- brance of their posterity, this honor belongs surely to the first settlers of New England, and of the towns in particular represented here to-day. True, Mr. President, they were not the descendants of the fabled divinities of Troy or Latium, and no kingly arms emblazoned their escutcheons. Their heroic deeds, and patient and victorious sufferings, are not eternized in the sublime and harmonious numbers of Horace or Virgil. Triumphal arches, sculptured monuments, and exquisite paintings, they have not left behind them ; but we mourn not for them the want of classic renown, or royal pedigree. The legacy of our Fathers embraces what is immeasurably superior. Were the heroes of antiquity renowned for daring and fortitude ? Which of them, in those attributes, excelled our Fathers? Were some of the ancients renowned for their heathen virtues ? Our Fathers, in moral and religious qualities, wherein was the hiding of their strength and true greatness, surpassed them, as the sun in brightness excels the flickering taper. They have bequeathed to us, not the orders and insignia of nobility, but the plain, homespun garments of Repub- licanism, their invaliable Christian counsels and example. In the place of literature and the fine arts, we have their laws and institu- tions, which, as a whole, bear the stamp of unexcelled wisdom and forecast. And thanks to the great Author of all good, instead of splendid ruins,-the smouldering remains of ancient greatness,-we have the busy hum of unparalleled commercial enterprise ; thousands of populous towns and smiling villages, innumerable well cultivated farms, and colleges and elementary schools, without number. From the same source we have received the institutions of a pure gospel, the Sabbath, and the preaching of that gospel. We have thousands of Christian churches, in which we can worship God according to the dictates of our own conscience, in the place of ruined temples of massive stone, and finished workmanship.
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