USA > Massachusetts > Worcester County > Northborough > The Centennial celebration of the town of Northborough, Mass., August 22, 1866 > Part 2
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Others, both of the living and the dead, have labored, and we have entered into their labors and partaken freely of their fruits. This is well and as it should be. It is so by the ordina- tion of Providence. Only let those who have come, or who shall come, into possession of these pleasant hills and valleys-of these forests and orchards and cultivated fields-of these churches and schools, and these civil, social and domestic privileges, let them consider at how great a price they were purchased, and let them do for future generations what has been done for them- selves.
In conclusion, I congratulate you, fellow-citizens, all who dwell within our borders, of whatever race or complexion ; and you, our thrice-welcome guests, who, from near or more distant homes, have come to revisit the old homestead, the place of your birth or former residence-I congratulate you, one and all, whom the occasion has brought together on the arrival of this long-expected day. May it inaugurate a new era of good feeling, of generous forbearance, and of public spirit.
We have already entered on the second century of our cor- porate existence : its termination none of us will live to witness ! When that day shall arrive, may it find this a united, prosper- ous, virtuous community.
POEM.
By T. Fot. Valentine, of Brooklyn, D. D.
[NOTE .- The writer of the following lines does not claim to be a poet ; and he deems it but justice to himself to say that they were hastily prepared, and with no view to their publication. But rather than to publish what was not read on this occasion, he prefers to give the original copy. with all its defects, Many of the points in it will not be understood by strangers to the town, but our limits will not permit extended notes of explanation. ]
AS ANCIENT Israel, at their leader's call, Ceased from their journeyings, and assembled all, .
Reviewed the past, or sought their future way, First to JEHOVAH would their homage pay, -- So we, assembled on this hallowed spot Near which is cast, or was, our earthly lot, -- Here, where, at first, we drew the vital breath, And where, perhaps, may slumber after death - Would first, with grateful hearts, unite to praise Him who hath led us through our devious ways. Not led, indeed, by ancient eloud and fire, But by that love that keeps both son and sire ; The God that led our Fathers guides us yet, And may we not his goodness c'er forget.
Gathered in this Centennial Meeting, To give each other friendly greeting - From North and South, from East and West, To tread the soil we love the best -- What point shall first attention gain, As thoughts come teeming from the brain ? What, make cach mind with pleasure thrill, And every heart with rapture fill? Nay more, what profit can we gain, Whether it give us joy or pain ? Shall it be future, past, or present, To make this meeting good and pleasant ? I cannot tell which best may be, And so shall safely take all three. And, when you've heard them, take your choice ; If you are suited, I'll rejoice.
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The Past !- How much that little word contains ! How much of pleasure, and how much of pains ! Of dear departed ones, upon whose biers In days long gone we shed those bitter tears ; Or, joyous, met with young companions fond To form the life-long matrimonial bond. Ah, who has not within the memory stored Such mingled scenes as pain and joy afford ? The playmates of our former years are gone, While we are left to journey on alone. The dear old homestead may remain here still, But ah! what feelings must our bosoms fill As we, each well-known landscape viewing o'er, Can see so many dear ones here no more ! We grasp each other's hand in fond embrace, But look in vain for many an absent face. Yon silent grave-yards tell their tale of some Who, long since, passed to their eternal home ; While others, scattered up and down the earth, No longer tread the soil that gave them birth. In ocean's mighty deep a few repose, * And some have wandered, whither, no one knows. A noble few will not forgotten be,
Who, filled with zeal for sacred Liberty,
When their imperilled country called for aid, With their own lives the price of Freedom paid. All honor to that faithful patriot band Who gave up all to save their native land ! Their monuments may of their virtues tell, And make their decds to be remembered well ; But never, while fond memory holds its seat, And we in joyous throngs each other greet, In peaceful home, or gathered hosts relate The scenes of other days, or celebrate, As do we now, the deeds of former years, Recount our mercies, perils, hopes and fears, Adoring, praise that All-Protecting Hand That still preserves our own beloved land, Can we forget the gallant deeds of those
Whose ashes now in patriot graves repose. We reap the gain for which they paid the price- Ours the reward -- but theirs the sacrifice.
But not alone the recent Past. Still further back your vision cast. Two hundred years have rolled around, Since here the white man set his bound-
* FREDERICK W. GALE, Esq., a native of this town, and his family, were among the victims of the ill-fated Arctic, which was wrecked in mid-ocean, September 27, 1854.
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Since BRIGHAM first his cabin started, And from his former neighbors parted. To this unbroken wilderness, Unknown but to a savage race- Which scarce had felt the white man's tracks, Nor heard the sturdy woodman's axe ---
Where hungry wolf and rattlesnake Alone the forest silence brake -- Hither the Pioneer would come, And make such dangerous wilds his home. How different then from now the place Where we his earlier footsteps trace. No friendly voice, no curling smoke, The helping neighbor then bespoke ; No beaten path or well-trod road Made easy course to each abode ; No busy hum from turning mill, No well-cleared fields, the barns to fill, No welcome tavern's creaking sign, No church, no stores, nor dwellings fine ; In short, few things most highly prized By those in regions civilized.
But years rolled on. By slow degrees The pilgrims came, by spotted trees, By weary walk, with chattels few, And thus the little " Precinct " grew. The savage foe with hatred burned, But to the larger towns they turned. No fearful conflicts here as there, Though each at work must weapons bear, One lonely grave alone remains * To tell the tale of all their pains. One grare -- but ah, those anxious years ! And who can reckon all their fears ? We, here, in safety come and go ; But of their dangers, who may know ?
Yet settlers came, and children too ; And thus, though yet a scattered few, Our fathers thought it " time to rise And build " a place for sacrifice. For twenty years their feet had trod A weary way to worship God. A six miles' walk had tried their zeal, And barefoot journeys made them feel.
*The grave of Miss MARY GOODENOW, who was killed by the Indiaus in 1707, is vet to be seen on the farm of WILLIAM A. BARTLETT. It is in contemplation to erect a suitable monument over the grave.
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This beauteous spot was chosen, where They raised a House for Praise and Prayer. Raised it, indeed, and roofed it, too, But not a window, floor, nor pew, Nor gallery, nor pulpit even !-- Such was their place to fit for Heaven ! And yet our fathers worshipped here In such a shell for one full year, We, in these days, with all our pride, Would such an airy place deride, And, wanting windows, floor and steeple, Think it enough to frighten people ; For, having neither doors nor locks, It was but one huge MARTYN # box !
Yet here the first pastor was called to his task, And proved himself all that his people could ask. Of his doctrines or practice I would not make fun, But open communion was certainly one!
And here, too, was gathered a church of but ten, - (I speak not of women, but only the men, ) Too few of the righteous, perhaps you may say-
Had Sodom as many, she'd have stood till this day.
At the meeting-house raising, historians mention, Rum and cider flowed freely, without much contention; Which conclusively showeth, at least, to my mind, That to spiritual things they were somewhat inclined.
And here, on the Common, the first school-house was raised; For the teacher's own comfort, I hope that was glazed. Being near to a wood-lot, and near to the church,
Showed the young they should fear both the Lord and the birch! .
The time would quite fail me to note every fact, Recall every incident, mention each act; But some things look comical, done by the town, And a few of them certainly must be put down.
For instance : when any outsider would come, Intending to make in this village a home, Before he had made any trouble or rout, . Straightway would the officers order him out!
A most curious way this to build up a town -- To meet each new comer with a "warning" and frown ! Yet such was the law then, and must be obeyed, Through fear that a call for " support" would be made.
* Rev. JOHN MARTYN, the first minister of Northboro', was ordained, and the church was organ- ized in this house while in this unfinished condition. Six of the great-grand-children of Mr. MARTEN Were present at the Centennial.
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Again: in the Bible the people had read : " Woe unto you Lawyers ! " and thus they were led To vote "that such nuisances be not employed, And that the whole race should at once be destroyed ! " *
But enough : the Town Records might lead me to say Some things quite improper, and get you astray. Yet this I will hint : if you ever have leisure, Go over those books and they'll give you much pleasure.
How greatly things have changed about since fifty years ago! And this I'll prove beyond a doubt, and you will own, I know. First, there's the church near which we meet : the same, yet, oh the change ! Each altered window, door and seat makes everything so strange! That huge old pulpit, made to raise at least your eyes on high- Those "singers'-seats" of former days, that almost reached the sky- Those galleries, with their high, square pews, where, nicely hid from view, We, roguish boys, oft raised the deuce, and then got "spoken to"- Those "turn-up seats," which, during prayer, (then people were not lazy, And every "sitter " caused a stare, for people thought him crazy !)- Those seats, I say, with hinges made, in prayer-time raised up high -- And then came down, when all was said, like firing musketry ! --- Those square old "sheep-pens " round the wall, though made for human creatures, Planned for politeness not at all, with backs upon the preachers- Those blindless windows, where the sun poured in on saint and sinner- Enough to melt down any one, or even cook your dinner- (The only heat the building had -in winter months most grateful- But, for the eye-sight, always bad, and altogether hateful) -- These all are gone, and but two things remind us, absent people, Of scenes to which fond Memory clings : the Pastor, and the steeple ! To this old church we almost need to ask new " introduction," For, like some States, it's had, indeed, a general "reconstruction."
. The Common, too, where once we played, is altered since those days ; Then, not a tree gave grateful shade, or stopped the scorching rays. The river, where, with crooked pin, we oft the "shiners " fed, Seems now to have retired within a very narrow bed ! It was but seldom that we caught a very heavy mess ; We've fished for shiners since, but not with any great success. Perhaps the good we thought we wished has been too often shammed ; Perhaps the streams in which we fished have been too often dammed !
Old "Liquor Hill" remains the same-the Pisgah of our youth -- 'Though she has changed her christened name to tell the sober truth. There we were wont to slide down hill, or "view the landscape o'er," Or, sly, with nuts our baskets fill to keep for winter's store.
* This allusion to the Town Records requires an explanation. In the year 1787, the town in- structed its Delegate to nse his influence against the employment of all Lawyers, and declared them to be "nuisances which ought at once and forever to be annihilated." It is a curious fact that as many as titelve of the descendants of that Delegate (Dea. ISAAC DAVIS,) have been Lawyers !
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That well-known tavern where you " tripped the light, fantastic toe"- And where, I fear, too many sipped a little toddy too -- That now is gone, and, as I hear, (I searee believe the tale), Quite strangely did it disappear-it went off by a Gale ! The spirit of the times is seen by such a more-ment queer : A tavern that had service done is senteneed to the rear !
The old red school-house where we went to "choose our sides " for spelling- Where we, for years, were always sent-is altered to a dwelling. Those were the days that tried our soles, because we barefoot came, And busy hands made famous holes that brought the schoolma'am's blame. The dear old place! we sharpened there our jack-knives and our wits- Made fly-traps, plagued the girls, and where the master gave us fits !
The houses-these are altered, too, with large square rooms, low studded ; With floors that paint nor carpet new, and yet were never muddied. The huge old fire-place with its blaze-the " settle " by its side, Where matrons sat by cheering rays, and busy needles plied -- Where chestnuts, eider, apples passed, and merry tales were told ; Where each would give his bargain last, or future plans unfold ;-- The high brass clock-the square-topped "shay" --- the saddle-bags and pillions- These all, and more, have passed away, unknown to present millions. No stoves, no coal, no matches then, (except those made in Heaven !) At twenty-one the boys were men, and not at six or seven ! No gas, with fixtures eurious querled, nor oil but what was shipped ; Candles were then "the light of the world " -- they certainly were dipped ! Pianos were a thing unknown, but spinning-wheels were not ; The girls could make a shirt alone, and watch the dinner-pot! No engine then its whistle blew-no Bank, but one of sand ; No railroad trains eame flying through-there were none in the land.
No shoe-shops, but for "custom make "-no schools of "moral suasion "- No trinket-shop your cash to take-no combs, and no occasion !- But I must pass, for present things claim some attention now ; And yet, how strangely memory clings to "forty years ago !" We're told ; "Call not the former days more execllent than these." Yet baek we sometimes fondly gaze, and well the visions please.
The PRESENT is all that is properly ours, The PAST, no regret can avail, The FUTURE's beyond us, whatever our powers ; But the PRESENT, we always may hail.
That our blessings are greater than ever before, None here will presume to deny ; For these we must answer, or ever deplore, And reflection will surely show why.
If we, like Capernaum, fail to improve The favors which Heaven bestows, Or do not appreciate the gifts of His love, Those blessings will prove but our woes.
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We laugh at the ways and the customs of old, And pity that primitive state ; But forget that, hereafter, our children, as bold, Will laugh at our follies as great.
We are somebody's ancestors, and, before long, That somebody 'll make us their game ; And talk of our weakness in prose or in song, Just as now we are doing the same.
At the monstrous big bonnets our grandmothers wore, And their short-waisted dresses, we laugh ;
But the belles of the present-what head ever bore Such a little collection of-chatf !
We wonder at "top-knots," that once were in vogue, But Niagara now is outdone, For a " waterfall " often bewitches some rogue, And off to get married they run !
No age was e'er wanting in fops and in flirts, And the race is quite numerous still ; But in what generation so flourished hoop-skirts That two in a pew will quite fill?
We boast of our freedom, and yet we are slaves To Pride, and to Dress, and to Fashion ! These tyrants pursue us quite down to our graves, And never show any compassion.
My country ! when of thee, Sweet land of liberty, I sometimes think, I often wonder where This race for show and glare
Will end-of ruin are We on the brink ?
My native town, beware ! These " little foxes" are The ones that bite ! Don't let " those women folks "
Away your sense all coax, And then boast of the hoax For very spite !
Let taxes swell the breeze, And rob you of your ease, By constant clatter ! Till pride and follies cease Your burdens must increase, And so disturb your peace. " That's what's the matter!"
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Shades of our Fathers! when You trod the earth as men, Did you act thus ? No! in your early days, The Rices, Brighams, Fays Went not these crooked ways Pursued by us !
Simple, and brave, and strong, They jogged their course along, Content with life. While we for greed, and gain,
And place, and fine domain, And honors high, maintain A constant strife !
But I forget my theme, And for the Past may seem To slight the Present. We should not, like Lot's wife, Hanker for former life, When days with joy were rife, However pleasant.
Yet why should I take up your time or my own To describe what you all may behold? You can see for yourselves, that, of this little town, The half never yet has been told.
With its ponds and its streamlets, its hills and its dales, Its forests and beautiful groves, Its roads and its bridges, its meadows and vales, No scene more agreeable proves.
But not more diverse in each natural gift Than in the pursuits here for gain ; No one branch of business brings quite all the thrift, And when " dull " makes the poeple complain.
With just enough power by river and stream For the mills which convenience demands, It has little occasion to introduce steam, To get high and then blow up all hands.
Your teams and your railroad, your stores and hotel, Your shops, mills and factories busy, Undoubtedly make all their owners "do well," But sometimes make visitors dizzy !
Your doctors have, doubtless, a high reputation, Though nothing but "stuff" on their shelves ; Your preachers in learning may " beat all creation," But they always must speak for themselves.
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Your lawyer, * whatever our forefathers thought, " Still lives," though in rather poor case. In only one office most lawyers are sought, But he has held all in the place !
That your schools are quite good, will not be denied; (For which you owe much to your preachers ;) To see how it was so, I often have tried,
When they 've turned out so many good teachers!
Old Hickory once thought any bank quite amiss, And, to stop one, he cut quite a prank ;
But who would have thought, in a village like this, We should yet see a National Bank ?
In some things this town may be found quite behind, And often has met with her match ;
But in one of her staple productions, I find- In combs-she's quite up to the scratch !
In the Councils of State, she has done her full share, As three Senators well may attest; With a son in a Gubernatorial Chair, And a Candidate never so blest.
But why need I go any further to show What to all must self-evident be? 'Though in age and in inches she may fall below, Yet none are much smarter than she.
And now to future things we turn the welcome horoscope ; Whatever things we there may learn, will come to pass, I hope. The Future ! what know we of that ? - but little, I admit, But guessing is a Yankee trait, and so we'll guess a bit.
I guess, before we meet again to celebrate this day, The most of those who meet here then will find us -" gone away !" No doubt the town will somewhat change ere that time rolls around ; And every thing would seem so strange if we should here be found.
I guess the time will sometime dawn when yonder graceful hill Will all become one well-smoothed lawn, with pride our hearts to fill ; And that the summit will be crowned with mansions worthy of it, With such a paradise around, 't were hardly wrong to covet.
I guess the time will yet arrive-1 may not live to see it- Yet I do hope so long to live, but if not, then so be it- When you will have a fine TOWN HALL -- (I say not when, nor where, )- One large enough to hold you all, and room enough to spare.
, * SAMUEL CLARK, Esq., the gentleman to whom allusion is here made, besides having held the offices of Chairman of the Select-men, Assessor, Treasurer, School Committee, &e., was, for several years, a prominent member of the Massachusetts Honse of Representatives, and at one time the candidate of the " Free Soil Party " for the Speakership.
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I guess a LIBRARY* will be found somewhere within the place, 'That shall be FREE to all around, your pride, and not disgrace. I hope that " good time coming," when we " better times " shall see- When Peace and Love shall dwell with men -- will dawn on you and me.
I hope our " reconstructed " land, though now with dangers rife, United in one happy band, will then be free from strife. I hope mere "policy," ere that, will yield to something higher, And all our rulers, small and great, make RIGHT their chief desire.
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The Future ! what a deep suggestive word ! None fraught with mightier interests e'er is heard. We know the Past, perhaps, and Present well, But who can of his future course foretell ? This much we know-perhaps enough to know : We must " do quickly " what we have to do. " Strangers and pilgrims as our fathers were," " We have no long-continuing city here." These pastors and their people, young and old, Must soon be gathered to one common fold. Life's first great duty is for Heaven to seek, The only heirs of Earth will be the meek. That duty done, we then may safely hope With all the ills of life to bravely cope. In social pleasures, or in duty's round, Make life with glorious actions to abound, Ready "to be, to do, and suffer " still All that may be our Heavenly Father's will.
And of our Country's future, who can know ? May it to JUSTICE, FREEDOM, RIGHT be true ! Not merely "reconstructed " be, alone, And for its former monstrous sins atone, But may it quite "REGENERATED " bo, And from all forms of wrong be fully free ; Not an Asylum only, for the oppressed, Where hunted victims find congenial rest ; But as a bright example for THE WORLD, Till " EQUAL RIGHTS " be everywhere unfurled !
The world moves forward -PROGRESS is the word That now on every hand is ever heard. Fools may ignore it, foes may strive to stay, With puny arm, its strong resistless sway, But neither fools nor foes can stop the tide On which all conquering TRUTH shall forward glide.
* IIon. CYRUS GALE, it is said has generously offered to contribute $1000, towards the purchase of a Free Library, on condition that the town provide a suitable place for it in a new Town Hall. Will not his example be followed by other wealthy citizens or natives of the town.
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Never did Revolutions backward go, Nor let poor craven hearts their good undo. ONWARD is now the watchword of the hour, And Error quails before Truth's rising power. Knowledge shall Ignorance and Wrong dethrone, And meek Religion rule the world alone.
Then will be ushered in that GLORIOUS MORN Of which the Prophets spoke, in ages gone !- Of which the Angels sang at Jesus' birth : "GOOD WILL TO MEN ; FOREVER PEACE ON EARTH !"- When this revolted planet shall return To all her first allegiance, and shall learn A SAVIOUR's name to speak, and praises sing, Till Heaven's broad arch with hallelujah's ring ; Jesus, whose right it is, on Earth shall reign, And all the world repeat its loud AMEN !
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ORIGIN OF THE CENTENNIAL CELEBRATION.
IN order that the whole matter of the Celebration may be fully under- stood, especially in future years, we deem it necessary to present a brief account of its origin.
In the Summer of 1865, the citizens of Northborough began to con- sider the propriety of observing in some public manner the one hundredth anniversary of the Incorporation of the Town. As the date of the Act of Incorporation is January 24, 1766, it was conceded that it was inex- pedient to have it occur on the very day of the anniversary, coming as it would in mid-Winter ; but a very general desire was expressed that some- time during the Summer of 1866, such a celebration might be held as would secure a re-union of many of the present and former residents of the town. In accordance with that desire, the Select-men, in preparing the Warrant for the "November Meeting" of that year, inserted the following article :
" ART. 14. To see if the Town will take any measures for celebrating the Centennial Anniversary of the settlement of the Town."
At that Town Meeting, held November 7, 1865, it was " voted to choose a Committee of nine persons to make preparations for the Cele- bration." The following gentlemen were appointed the Committee, viz :
Rev. Dr. ALLEN, A. W. SEAVER, NATHANIEL FISHER,
GEO. C. DAVIS, WARREN T. BUSH, EBER BREWER,
S. W. NORCROSS, SAMUEL WOOD, GEO. G. VALENTINE.
It was also "voted that the Committee report at the March Meeting, that the town may give further instructions and make such appropriations as may be necessary."
At the adjourned March Meeting, held March 19, 1866, the above- named Committee presented a report, in which they recommended that the celebration should take place on the 15th of August ensuing, and that a sum not exceeding $1200 be appropriated for that object. The report, after being amended by substituting June 13, 1866, as the time, and $500, as the sum to be expended, was adopted. At a subsequent town meeting, held April 2d, this appropriation was reconsidered, and, the subject of the celebration becoming involved with other questions of ex-
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