USA > Massachusetts > Plymouth County > Kingston > Report of the proceedings and exercises at the one hundred and fiftieth anniversary of the incorporation of the town of Kingston, Mass. : June 27, 1876 > Part 3
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In the succeeding history of the town I find nothing imme- diately affecting public affairs, unless I might except some earnest controversy about religious matters. The town pur- sued the even tenor of its way, sturdily attentive to its own concerns, ready by council and influence to assist the general weal. Between the Revolutionary War and that of 1812 there were built on an average about two hundred and fifty tons of shipping annually .* The war of 1812 was the most serious hindrance to its prosperity as it was to the general prosperity of the State. About thirty men enlisted from Kingston, most of whom were employed at the fortification on the Gurnet or in general coast-guard duty. Two only of the number sur- vive, David Chandler and John Drew, known to you all as worthy and respected citizens. After the close of the war - at which time Kingston owned at the landing three sloops, one hundred and fifty tons ; one brig, one hundred and sixty tous ;
* Mass. Ilist. Coll. 2 series, Vol. III.
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ORATION BY REV. JOSEPH F. LOVERING.
at Rocky Nook six schooners, four hundred and forty-five tons, and two brigs, two hundred and fifty-six tons * - the modest, content, and sober life of the town continued as before, the most exciting topics being those connected with ordinary town affairs, questions affecting the election of town or state officers, or the conduct of the schools and the church, or the building of the railroad in 1845, which was as much of an event in my schoolboy days as the centennial celebration at. Philadelphia is to the nation at large at the present time. It is a fact in which the residents of the town may well take commendable pride, that in social culture and general refinement and good morals Kingston occupies an enviable position. It will not be deemed an invidious comparison to say that no town within the limits of the old colony surpasses it in the strength of its integrity, in the fairness of its life, in its sustained though never extrava- gant enterprise, and in its praiseworthy thrift. The graceful purity of its homes bears testimony to the modest and beautiful lives of its mothers and daughters, and the vigorous, fair- minded character of its fathers and sons gives clear warrant of the continuance of its useful and honorable citizenship.
Nothing is now wanting to the compass of this address but a brief reference to the grand record which is given of the town during the war of the Rebellion. It was to be expected that every town in our beloved commonwealth would respond with ready patriotism to the call of the country's need. We look back through the years; we recall the days when the roll of the drum and the shrill notes of the fife were heard in the streets of every village along our shores and among our hills. The flash that glared from the cannon, pointed by rebel hands against the sacred honor and union of these States, represented as they were by Fort Sumter, served to light the beacon fires
* Mass. Ilist. Coll. 2 series, Vol. III.
3
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ORATION BY REV. JOSEPH F. LOVERING.
of unmatched and heroic patriotism on every Northern hill. The sullen threat of that cannon waked the echoes of loyalty in all our valleys, - echoes answered and repeated by the free surges of the Atlantic, as they break at the foot of Plymouth rock, and on every cliff along the shores of New England, while brave men, descendants of the minute-men of the Revo- lution, filled the ranks of volunteer regiments, and swore that the brave old flag, that had been torn down by treason and rebellion, should once again float on the free breeze of heaven, and be so firmly nailed by the strong right arm of the nation's manhood to every flag-staff and mast-head that never again should it be lowered to any foe at home or abroad. Thank God, the North kept its oath !
We greet to-day, in this company, those who fought for union and liberty, for country and humanity, those who are represented by the Kingston Boy, Capt. George II. Bonney, Jr., who is well worthy to command the gallaut body of men from Halifax who do escort duty to-day. We greet to-day the grand old stars and stripes. We gather under the sacred shadows of its folds, and as we remember the past we renew our oaths that it shall float in beauty and strength over the whole country, North and South, East and West, and be .hon- ored of all nations on all seas from the rising to the setting sun,
Let it be the proudest boast of Kingston to-day that it was true to the record of the old colony and of the Revolution, that it helped crush the Rebellion and save the nation. It paid out of its town treasury $11,236.50; $5,574.08 were raised in addition by private subscription, making the whole amount raised and expended, exclusive of all State aid, $16,810.34, while at the close of the war it had cancelled all bills and held an available balance of $1.616.17. It may rightly boast, also, of its personal service. Shall it be said that we sent out none
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ORATION BY REV. JOSEPH F. LOVERING.
who commanded a position in these latter years equal to Thomas and Wadsworth and Drew in former years? If that is true, we sent out men who sustained nobly their own honor and that of their native or adopted town. Those men we salute to-day, - the one hundred and eighty-nine soldiers, "a surplus of nineteen over and above all demands, " out of a population in 1865 of 1,626, - more than one in every nine; and with especial reverence we salute the memory of the heroic dead, the fourteen who died in service, one in every thirteen and a half of those who filled our quota.
" Cheers, cheers for our heroes! Not those who wore stars, Not those who wore eagles And leaflets and bars. We know they were gallant, And honor them, too, For bravely maintaining The red, white, and blue.
1774459
But cheers for our soldiers, Rough, wrinkled, and brown, - The men who make heroes And ask no renown. Unselfish, untiring, Intrepid and true. The bulwark surrounding The red, white, and blue."
The noble company of heroic men who represented this town in the army and navy of our country deserve our earnest grati- tude and praise. They stood between their homes and the foe ; they bared their breasts that the blows aimed at the life of the nation might strike them first; they helped form a living breast-work behind which the security and perpetuity of our country were safe. They deserved well of the republic. Let the names of the living be honored ! Let the graves of the dead be the altars of our patriotism !
فـ
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ORATION BY REV. JOSEPH F. LOVERING.
Pardon me, fellow-citizens, if I add a few words more. I said at the beginning of my address, and repeated in substance during it, that while the great life of a State bears up the life of its constituent communities, the communities themselves, however inconsiderable they may seem, nourish and sweeten and increase the life of the State. For our encouragement let this be emphasized. Town life has given the source from which the broader life of the State and the nation has been helped. De Tocqueville * says, "Municipal institutions, i. e., towns and villages, are to liberty what primary schools are to science : they bring it within the people's reach, they teach 'men how to use and how to enjoy it." I need not attempt to prove to you the correctness of his statement. We know it to be true. In our government the township is the unit of power.
I wish, however, to remind you that aside from any direct and specific action, there are other methods by which the influ- ence of a town is exerted. It is done not by the reputation the community may have at home, but by the character of those who go out from it, and are, as it were, its ambassadors. We must not neglect to acknowledge this, and to take pride in the meritorious and useful lives of those who love this town as the place of their nativity, and whose name, the town cher- ishes. No one will expect from me anything like a complete list of such persons. Many of you, however, recall the name of Joseph R. Chandler, member of Congress, minister to Naples, editor formerly of the United States Gazette, who lives in Philadelphia, venerable in years and in honor, and of Ichabod Washburn, late of Worcester, who bequeathed a fund for the relief of aged and indigent women in this town ; of John Hohnes, who was United States Senator from Maine, and of Dr. Ezekiel Holmes, teacher of Natural Sciences in the
* Democracy in America, Vol. I, Chap. 5.
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ORATION BY REV. JOSEPH F. LOVERING.
same State; of Caleb Adams, of Brunswick, Me., who pro- vided in his will for the establishment of a school in this town at some future time; of Rev. William A. Drew, formerly editor of the Gospel Banner, and Rev. Job Washburn, and of Samuel Adams, who invented the first reaping machine; of Edward S. Tobey, the successful merchant and efficient post- master of Boston ; of Francis M. Johnson of Newton, Henry Glover of Boston, and of many others who have enlarged the influence of this goodly town, last but not least of whom is William R. Sever, for so many years County Treasurer at Plymouth, and who can leave no better legacy for the rising generation than his spotless integrity, exact honesty, and clean moral worth. When a famous Grecian was asked what he could do, he replied, "I can make a little village into a popu- lous city." His boast men like these I have named have made a fact. For greatness and power come not of size, but of brain and heart and hand.
Let us, then, with gratitude for the past and present, cele- brate this one hundred and fiftieth anniversary of the incor- poration of this town. Let us thank God for the mercy that has been so signally manifested to those who have preceded us, and let us pray that His favor may be with us, so that we . may worthily endeavor to secure to our children a future which shall honor still more largely this beautiful and beloved town of Kingston.
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POEM BY GEORGE C. BURGESS, ESQ.
POEM BY GEORGE C. BURGESS, ESQ., PORTLAND, ME.
STANDING upon this hill-top's grassy crown, We look, with hearts aglow and eager, down Upon the ocean, fields, and busy town.
So from the summit of thrice fifty years, Backward we look, and plain to us appears The fabric which our memory nprears. And as we look, the thronging visions come
Of those who made this fruitful spot their home.
We see the rock set in the salt-sea foam, Their shallop in the inner harbor rides, Stemming the rough waves of the winter's tides, While the swart savage from them lurking hides.
One hundred years! We see them stronger grown,
Their borders widen, fruitful seeds are sown, They have made all the wilderness their own. In loyal homage to their well-loved king, The name of their new-founded town they bring,
And KINGSTON call the accepted offering. In fifty years how changed the feeling grows! The land no king as earthly ruler knows, Against all king-craft proving sturdy foes. One hundred more! How has the circle spread! There stands a nation in the hamlet's stead,
And midst the prondest rears her wreath-crowned head. As when the lightning flashes through the night, One instant stands revealed to eager sight . A thousand forms of things distinct and bright, So memory's glance brings to our sight to day The forms of things though centuries away, To them I turn with my unskillful lay.
The scent of summer roses fills the air, Each summer bird trills now his sweetest lay. And summer clouds hang low and langnid where The quiet waters heave in yonder bay. The growing corn waves in the Summer sun, And green fields stretch in peaceful length along; Showing the fruits by sturdy labor won. Where Peace to Plenty sings her constant song. Not so when first these shores our fathers trod, And sowed the seed which gave a nation life,
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POEM BY GEORGE C. BURGESS, ESQ.
Building their altar in the name of God Where they might worship free from baneful strife. Around them wildly raged the wintry blast,
Before them spread an untrod wilderness, Behind them lay a persecution past,
Within them beat stout hearts of steadfastness. What bitter grief those steadfast hearts did feel
W'ho trod the level graves which hid their dead!
What sad forebodings visions drear did bring Filling their present with a nameless dread! But never did their ntmost longing trace A pathway backward erost the stormy main. With fervent prayers they kept their hearts of grace, And trusted God to make their losses gain. Their zeal and courage did so close them round, An atmosphere of life, that all within The circle of their living, straightway found Themselves imbued with strength to theirs akin, And children's children in the years that came Received from them a chrism of holy power, A stern baptism, which kept them in the flane Of war's red breath and peril's deadly hour. And these, though loving well the mother-land, Loved Freedom more, and with undaunted might In bloody fields they took their lives in hand, Gave pledge to fortune, dared the unequal fight,
And with the priceless gift which Nature gave From sire to son, of courage joined to skill, Scorned a luxurious case if as a slave 'T would be enjoyed; no rest they knew until, The last fight o'er, the rights asserted won, The laurel wreath of victory on their brows, A newer life with duties grave begun, To Freedom consecrate with holiest vows,
The choicest fruits which Victory gave they kept As noblest gifts for them by Heaven ordained; And in their watch they shunbered not nor slept, Keeping the prize heroic courage gained. Have we, their children, felt their spirits' tire. Their pride to do and dare. their holy zeal, Their steady strength of will that did not tire. But self forgot in good of common weal? We span the continent with iron bands,
Pierce granite hills, and send the steam-urged steed From Eastern shores to the far Western lands, Rivalling the sun in his resistless speed.
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POEM BY GEORGE C. BURGESS, ESQ.
We stem the ocean's waves and river's tides With floating palaces, and even dare The risk of life itself, where danger rides, To pierce the secrets of the upper air. The words the Old World heard within the hour, And hearts that listened with warm rapture thrilled, The quivering wire gives us with lightning's power Ere the applause which greeted them is stilled. All that can minister to wealth or pride
We dare and do; but in the nobler strife Are our heart's promptings taken for our guide, To lead us upward to a higher life?
For us no forest spreads its trackless wild, For us no foes our peaceful homes molest;
No mother, trembling, watches o'er her child, Lest stealthy savage snatch him from her breast. But other foes for other courage call,
And other ills must auxions souls affright,
And who would not before their weapons fall Must with high courage watch and pray and fight. How vain to us, dwelling upon the past.
Seems in our sight this newer, later day! How are our idols from their high seats cast, Their brazen fronts becoming crumbling clay! The world, with stony visage, stands apart. And like the fabled sphinx a riddle tells Which we must solve or die. As oft the heart Yields in despair as it in triumph swells; The dusky smoke from almshouse and from jail Blots out the azure of the summer sky, The cry of want and suffering's plaintive wail Is lost in the loud sound of revehy. The swift gain not the race, nor do they win Amidst the battle's strife, the world calls strong, Not always do they stand the assaults of sin Who in religion's armor have fought long. And the clear ring of statesmen's voice we miss Who held their country as the all in all; But now the chiefest statescraft comes to this. - To watch the means how parties rise and fall. We praise our fathers deeds, and hear with pride, Their noble story over and over retold ; Lest their example should our footsteps guide. We sell their landmarks in our greed for gold. The stern, hervie soul, which every page
Bears as the record of our fathers' lives,
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POEM BY GEORGE C. BURGESS, ESQ.
Dwells not amongst us in this later age,
And Honor's self with noblest purpose strives, Full oft in vain, to win a poor snecess, Where fraud and swift deceit oppose the way, And men get hearts of flint beneath the press Of the hard, shallow life we live to-day. Oh, had we BRADFORD'S stern integrity, Whose chosen path was of self-sacrifice, Or CARVER'S patient soul, whose loyalty To God and man was scaled at costliest price, Or STANDISH'S fiery zeal, whose ready hand Hurled mimic war wrapped up in serpent-skin, Or BREWSTER'S trust, who sought a foreign land, To holier lives his fellow-men to win! But what our fathers did in that old time. Their sons who follow them must do to-day; To loftier heights, with toiling feet, must climb, To purer air must urge our onward way; Strive for the living faith to which they clung, Not to a dead belief nor blind assent, Keeping our thoughts forever fresh and young, Our talents not as given but only lent. 'Gainst lust of office and the greed of trade, The loss of honor's quick, inspiring sense, Placing our strength as walls of stone are made, To beat pack ocean's waves of imminence. So as from seed which in the ground is cast, And lifeless lies, forgotten, cold, and dead, The future shall spring from the buried past, And wide abroad its living branches spread.
A brighter day is coming, and along the castern sky The crimson banners of the sun proclaim the dawn is nigh; The purple tints of morning fade from off the topmost hills, And a flood of radiance poured along the slumbering valleys fills. The throbbing pulse of Mother Earth feels life awake anew, And through the scattered clonds of night comes impulse strong and true. Prophétie souls, with cars attent. hear a sound that stirs and cheers, From future generations borne adown the coming years, And midst the sound is heard no tramp of armed and mailed host, War's trumpet-blast amidst the hum of Labor's throng is lost. The shock of nations' angry jar shall vex nor land nor sea. All nations, owning but one head, one brotherhood shall be; The victories which Peace shall win shall far exceed the old, Which War upon his battle-flags with pride hath oft enrolled: Earth's stores for all her hapless sons shall then be garnered in, Nor shall the strong against the weak in constant struggle win.
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POEM BY GEORGE C. BURGESS, ESQ.
As 'neath the ocean's swelling flood the lightning bears amain The message trusted to its care and swift returns again, Obedient to the lightest touch the electric thrill is sent, From zone to zone with speed untold, crost sea and continent, So shall the world, with one accord responsive to the will Of the great Master, cheerfully his purposes fulfil. Upon Valhalla's open meads, the elder Eddas tell, There stands the mystic tree of life, the ash-tree Ygdrasel.
Throughout the heavens its branches reach, and in the centre earth,
Deep as the mind can fathom depth, its seeret roots have birth;
Upon its lofty topmost hongh, with mighty spreading wings, An eagle sits whose piercing gaze holds all created things. The dew its branches all distill, its cool, protecting shade, Give life to all, nor do they know if friends or foes they aid.
The gods who drink Hvergelmer's stream feel their full pulses swell,
The serpents gnawing at its roots are cherished too, as well. The fountains springing from its roots are wit and wisdom's home, And to their source at Miner's fount the gods in judgment come.
There is no place unvisited, no lost, forgotten spot
The ash-tree's power has not searched out, though they may know it not. Though long concealed, the hidden germ will yet be brought to life,
And, dead to mortal sight, is still with fruitful vigor rife.
The runes which Odin's hand has traced, this mystic sentence give,-
In the fur twilight of the gods all better things shall live.
It needs not saga-lore the myth of Ygdrasel to read,
Nor which the mystic tree that grows upon the open mead.
That tree whose branches wide shall be throughout the broad heavens thrown,
Whose roots shall clasp the universe, is Freedom's tree alone. Within its sheltering influence weak hearts are stronger made, And even traitors claim their seats beneath its fostering shade. And they who sought this spot remote, from home, from comfort turned To breathe the air of freedom, all their vain allurements spurned. Their bright example lives to day, and nation's feel its might, And turn towards it as the germ in growing secks the light. The murmur of the forest pines, the waves upon the shore, And winds that blow at will shall bear the story evermore: And full and strong the coming years shall see its ripened fruit, Slow growing through the centuries. in every clime take root. The chain from off the fettered limbs shall everywhere be riven, The cry of anguish from the slave go up no more to heaven, The mind in gloom of ignorance shall see the glorious light, And Knowledge stand before mankind in raliant robes bedight, Foul Superstition's baleful breath no more pollute the air. And God's true spirit in his word find dwelling everywhere. Oh, hasten on, thou glorious day, which brings upon the earth The newer life, the freer soul, the nobler, purer birth!
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HISTORICAL SKETCH.
HISTORICAL SKETCH, BY DR. T. B. DREW.
Sons and Daughters of Kingston : - For a long time I have had this day in anticipation. In 1856, at the suggestion of a friend, I commenced to collect whatever I could of an historical nature relating to Kingston, with a view of writing a history of the town at some future time. I knew then that 1876, besides being the centennial of our nation's birth, would also be the one hundred and fiftieth anniversary of the birthyear of our town, and the time then intervening was deemed fully sufficient to do any work of that kind at that day planned ; yet the twenty years have passed away, and it is not accomplished.
But as you have chosen me the historian for this occasion, I have, with considerable labor, endeavored to select and con- dense from my material an historical sketch of that part of Plymouth which is now Kingston, from the earliest colonial times down to a period within the memory of persons still living, which, with your indulgence, I will now read : -
EARLY SETTLERS AND PROPRIETORS OF LANDS.
AT a very carly period after the settlement at Plymouth by the Mayflower Pilgrims, A. D. 1620, and the division of lands, the colonists began to occupy their lots around the bay, so that after seventeen years only had elapsed (1637), a sufficient number to form a separate township had settled in that part of the town now Duxbury. About five years earlier a church
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HISTORICAL SKETCH.
had been formed there, causing, of course, a withdrawal of members from the Plymouth congregation. It was with great reluctance they were allowed to go, and to some minds it seemed that such divisions or separations would be a great disadvantage to the colony. They little realized that they were the founders of a great nation, and that such divisions inst necessarily take place to form new settlements in other parts of New England. Gov. Bradford lamented these separations, and after expressing his feelings upon the subject, says, " And this, I fear, will be the ruine of New England, at least of the churches of God there, and will provock the Lord's displeasure against them."
Could Bradford have looked into the future, he would have seen that New England itself would soon be too small to hold the descendants of those pioneers of the Plymouth and Massa- chusetts colonies, and he would have beheld them still pressing on through the western wilderness, until the shores of the Pacific were reached, three thousand miles away from the old rock on which they had landed two hundred and fifty years before. But we cannot wonder that, in those early days, they deeply felt those separations, especially in the church, and it is not strange some wished for a reunion. The question of uniting the Plymouth and Duxbury churches at Jones River was seri- onsly disenssed just previous to the incorporation of the latter town; but after a committee had reported favorably towards the project of building the meeting-house and town here, the matter was dropped. At this time just referred to, houses had been built and occupied in Rocky Nook and at Jones River, and I will now notice some of the principal persons who, pre- vious to the year 1700, were residents or proprietors of lands in that part of Plymouth now Kingston.
The first ten or twelve whom I shall mention were either
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HISTORICAL SKETCH.
Pilgrims on the Mayflower or arrived during the next year, 1621. Isaac Allerton was a very important man among the first comers, as he was almost at the head of their business affairs, and continued so until 1630, when his transactions, which at first had been profitable to them, proved in the end to be a loss, and many were involved, causing much unkind feel- ing towards him. He owned a house and farm at Rocky Nook, extending probably north to the river, embracing part of the estate of the late Alexander Holmes. Mr. Allerton went from Plymouth to New Amsterdam, and finally to New Haven, where he died about 1659.
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