USA > Massachusetts > Barnstable County > Falmouth > The celebration of the two hundredth anniversary of the incorporation of the town of Falmouth, Massachusetts, June 15, 1886 > Part 5
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Now, my friends, I have one thing more, and only one thing more to say. In looking up the records, I found I had to omit a great deal that I was not certain about. I should like to tell you some of the instances. I will, if there is time. I will tell you one, what I considered the most astonishing coincidence that ever occurred to me. In the year 1872, I was-I think I must have been an of- fensive partisan that year,-for I was away off in the State of New York, and I was present to address a meeting in Penn Yan. I got in that town at 8 o'clock in the morning, and there right before me, on the register of the hotel, was this signature :-
"Gen. John L. Swift, U. S. Army."
I registered my name simply, and I sat down. No one came near me. I saw the handbills all over the city announcing that Gen- eral John L. Swift of Boston would address that meeting in the even-
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ing. About 2 o'clock that day I said to the landlord : " Is there a meeting here this evening?" "Oh ! yes," said he ; "the general came about 7 this morning, and he has gone down to see his friends, and will be back about 6." "Well," said I; "there will be two of us, then." "What !" said he. "I saw that name of yours right down below his, and I thought you must be a drummer and fooling ; are you the man?" "I was sent here for that business." Out he went, and pretty soon the postmaster and committee of arrangements came and apologized and said there was a row-boat and fishing, if I liked I could row or fish a little. "Ah !" said I, "that will satisfy me and make it all right. I came from a fishing country." And so we had a little fishing. At supper time the landlord brought up a magnificent looking man, six feet and more high, venerable and with a brusque manner. And said the landlord, "General Swift, permit me to intro- duce to you General Swift." "Well," said this man, "where are you from?" "From Massachusetts," said I. "So am I." "Barnstable county," said I. "That's my county," said he; "what town?" " Falmouth." "Well," said he; "I was born in Falmouth. What part of Falmouth ?" We were not born in the same part of Falmouth, but we were born in the same town. There we were, for the first time, with exactly the identical name-John L. Swift-I believe his name was John Lewis, that is the difference and all there was-meet- ing there at that time, and we have never seen each other from that that day to this. But I told my friend Mr. Nye, that there was a live gentlemen up there somewhere that ought to be at this celebration, and so he set to work corresponding, and he and I have been at it to find that other John L. Swift. We have ransacked the Adjutant-
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General's office, State and Nation, and have sought in every possible way that we could to get hold of that man, and yesterday I received, through the old hotel-keeper out there, news as to just where he is, too late for this occasion.
But, sir, as you have said, the representatives of this town, those that drew their life from this life-giving spot, are everywhere, and, as George Bancroft says, a colony is of much more consequence to this world than a victory, and Falmouth is a colonist raiser.
There is one other thing I want to say, in the way of omission. I noticed that, while there are five Congregational churches in this vicinity, four Methodist, an Episcopal, a Catholic church, and a Qua- ker church, there were no Baptists, and I wondered why that could be, because they are an enterprising fraternity,-they are pretty lively people. Looking up the records, I found that there was a Baptist scout here, away in the latter part of 1700, ahead of the Methodists, and I thought it over, and came to the conclusion that, when that good Baptist brother got down here, and found that there were nine miles of coast baptized by the billows of the Atlantic, and forty inland ponds, the place was pretty well watered, and he would let it go on sprinkling (loud applause).
And now, my friends, I'll not tax your patience any longer (cries of "Go on"). As George Bancroft says, a colony indeed, in the eye of truth and reason, is of far more consequence than any army with its victories. It is to celebrate a colony established 200 years ago, that from that time to this has been the nursery of colo- nists that have gone out from among you to plant pure homes and free institutions, that you are here, your Excellency and the Lieu-
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tenant-Governor, with your military family, sundering the ties that bind you to that legislature that, according to all appearances, is to remain in session till the next bi-centennial (laughter). It is to com- memorate this colony-maker, this beautiful town of Falmouth, that your artillery has thundered, that your public and distinguished men have come here to-day to see us, that we, Falmouth born, have come to revisit scenes and friends never to be blotted out from our memo- ries, or from our regard and esteem; and so have we all come to Falmouth to commemorate and to venerate this honorable township. But there are many-ah, how many-that, because of great distance, or from lack of health or strength, are not able to be with us to-day, and all through the hours of this day they turn their hearts here and say, "I wonder what they are doing now in old Falmouth, God bless her." I give you, my townsmen and people, this sentiment in conclu- sion : The absent ones, not here with us, never forgotten by us, God bless them (loud applause).
THE PRESIDENT.
The next toast that the committee have given me, is :-
The sweet singer of Falmouth ; we all know who that is,-Mrs. Frances E. Swift. She cannot be with us here to-day, but has sent some verses, which will be read by Mr. Holton.
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THE BIRTHDAY OF A TOWN.
In honor of an olden day, In rosebud time of June, I sing a little vesper lay- The robins set the tune.
Of this fair town whose birthday bells Ring out with joy and pride; Its villages like pearly shells Flung outward by the tide.
It calls its sons from east and west, And who hath power to say That from the regions of the blest No soul is here to-day ?
Its woods and uplands bathed in sheen, Its ponds where lilies grow, As bright and beautiful were seen Two hundred years ago,
As when the stars together sang, And Earth a young bride stood, While all the heavenly arches rang, The works of God are good.
O Past! in some fair vision show Through mists of many years, Our builders in the long ago, Our sturdy pioneers.
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The hearth-fire lights a profile sweet The low, flag-bottomed chair; The flax wheel turns while busy feet Upon the treadle bear.
The flames leap up the chimney wide, And show the rafters hung With peppers red, and pumpkins dried, By patient fingers strung.
Upon the crane the kettle sings Above the fire-dogs bright ; The latch-string stirs, the good man brings In pine knots for the night.
The Bible finds an honored place Upon the little stand, But here a mist falls to efface The ancient picture bland.
In Succomnesset, by the mere, Arose the wigwam's smoke, The red man chased the bounding deer, Nor felt the white man's yoke.
The log canoe skimmed o'er the sound, The council fires aglow Lighted grave faces all around, Two hundred years ago.
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And then a change: a little seed Was sown in virgin soil, Took root, and grew; the time had need, For God's plan nought could foil.
A son of Leyden pathway broke, And others I could sing ; A stone's-throw from the chimney smoke The white gull dip't his wing.
The summers bring us roses still, From bush they set to grow, And blossom by the window-sill, And crimson petals show.
On raft of leaves the lilies yet, Safe anchored down below, The nectar of the morning set In starry cups of snow.
And here, anear the rushes born, Another *Moses grew. In mother-eyes he saw the morn When this old town was new.
Though for their Isle across the main, Fell no regretful tear, They changed the name of this domain For English Falmouth dear.
They dreamed of skylarks on the wing, Of hedgerows all ablow ;
* Moses Hatch, born near Fresh pond-the first white child in Falmouth.
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And woke to hear the salt waves sing With rhythmic ebb and flow.
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Ere long the people multiplied ; Led hither by the hand That held the cup, so deep and wide, Of blessings to the land.
And they were men of honest lives, No golden wrong could lure; The counterpart of loving wives, And daughters good and pure.
The names of sires we venerate, To children's children dear ; Descending, oft with look and trait, Are still familiar here.
We reap their harvest unawares, The fruits they toiled to grow, And ask for virtues that were theirs Two hundred years ago.
THE PRESIDENT.
I propose "Our representative in Congress," We have received a letter from Dr. Davis, but as we are hurried for time, I must not stop to read that. Our ex-representative is here, Hon. W. W. Crapo. We shall be pleased to hear from him (applause).
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RESPONSE OF HON. W. W. CRAPO.
I regret, as you do, the absence of our distinguished fellow-citi- zen, the accomplished member of Congress from this district. His letter doubtless explains his absence. Had our ancestors, the early settlers of Falmouth, supposed that the National Congress would have competed with the legislature of Massachusetts in the extreme length of its sessions, they would doubtless have selected some day in a month later than June for the birthday of the town. I accept the position of substitute, which takes me for a moment from the retired list and places me on active duty.
You pay honors to-day to the early founders of Falmouth. They are entitled to your admiring remembrance. They deserve the warm tributes and the generous praise which your orator, with rare elo- quence, has spoken concerning them. They were hardy men, who, with robust vigor, subdued the wild and rugged soil, and made it yield to their sustenance. They were brave men, who, with conquer- ing valor, faced hostile men and beasts, and accepted uncomplain- ingly the privations and the distresses of an isolated life. They were determined men, who, with resolute and heroic purposes, contended for the right, and with unflinching firmness stood by their high re- solves. They had vigor of muscle, vigor of mind, vigor of will,-and they were self-reliant, for they early acquired the habit of thinking and governing for themselves. They had, it is true, human limita- tions, and if they were rigid, uncompromising, and tyrannical in their opinions, they were inflexible in integrity. If they were plain and uncouth, yet they rose above the ordinary level, in that they labored
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for the welfare of a continent, and believed that they were lighting a pathway for the future centuries. We admire their strength, hardi- hood and vigor, the intensity and the integrity of their opinions. They were not cradled amid lawns and lilies, but among the rocks and breakers. These earnest-hearted souls, Godly men, planted and watered, and we enjoy the harvest. From feeble beginnings this great republic has been evolved in 250 years by the courage, thrift and enterprise of our fathers, by their fidelity to great principles, and by their patient obedience in the discharge of the ordinary duties of life.
What the next century shall be depends upon us. But we need not look to the next century. There are questions to be settled in the present. There are dangers to be avoided, and duties to be per- formed, even now. Our fathers contended with the rude, harsh forces of nature. They subdued the wilderness, and bequeathed to us the heritage of a fair land, capable of the highest culture and the most abundant harvest. With us, there is the rattle of mills, the sound of hammers, and the growth of densely populated cities. Our fathers stood upon the same level in wealth and station. There was a homestead for every one. Now, there are vast inequalities between man and man, enormous wealth and extreme poverty. Our fathers were one homogeneous stock of country blood, moved by the same sentiments, the same motives, the same aspirations, and relying upon the same methods. Now, we have to meet with alien ideas and alien influences, which have come to us with the human flood which, from every quarter of the globe, has rolled in upon our shores. The an- archist, the nihilist, the communist, may not disturb the peaceful
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the same methods. Now, we have to meet with alien ideas and alien influences, which have come to us with the human flood which, from every quarter of the globe, has rolled in upon our shores. The an- archist, the nihilist, the communist, may not disturb the peaceful serenity of rural Falmouth, and yet you hear, how often, of strife, of riot, of boycotts and of dynamite.
What has thrown the times so out of joint? What has brought about this discord? The grasping selfishness of a few on the one side, and the headstrong recklessness and unreasoning ignorance of a few on the other side. The great mass of working men and the great mass of employers are sensible, fair-minded and just, neither seeking nor willing the one to wrong the other. And yet, during the last few months, we see industry motionless, business prostrate and helpless, be- cause labor is angry and capital is sullen. There have been outbreaks which put in peril the good order and the safety of the community, and, when seeking the cause of this turbulence, we are told that there is an antagonism between capital and labor, and that these two forces, like good and evil, are contending with each other for the mastery. I will not tire you with a discussion of this question. I refer to it sim- ply as an issue in the present, the solution of which rests with the American people. America, beyond every nation on earth, has placed its welfare in the hands of the men who toil. There must be no an- tagonism. Capital and labor are but pulling oars in the same boat. They must pull together, they must keep stroke, or there can be no progress. Pulling in opposite directions simply means disaster. There are adverse tides which business is powerless to control. When times are hard and profits are poor, wages will be low. When profits are
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large, labor is in larger demand and wages command its advance. Unless capital and labor pull together heartily, willingly, each with self-denial striving to do its part in stemming the adverse currents, then capital becomes bankrupt and labor becomes hungry. In the solution of this question, and in its proper treatment, depends not only the prosperity of the republic, but the welfare of the race. The responsibility rests on us. The standard of civilization has been placed in our hands. Our duty is not only to keep it to the front, but to keep it advancing.
The example of our fathers, so eloquently portrayed to us to-day, permeates us. We breathe the same pure air our fathers did. The same clear sky is over us. The strong, free breezes from the great salt sea come to us as they did to them. If we observe their single- ness of purpose, their abhorrence of shams, their fidelity to justice,- if we maintain their bold and rugged independence of thought and action, we shall share with them in the glory and renown (applause).
THE PRESIDENT.
There are other toasts which were on the list, but, owing to lack of time, we must omit many of them and come to the last :-
The Christian religion : the basis of American institutions. While principles abide forever unchangeable, and no community can right- fully be disloyal to the vital facts of its history ; it is a gladdening sign of the progress of the age, that the rancor of the old disputes has
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given place to Christian charity, and that the hands which 200 years ago would have been clinched in deadly conflict can now be clasped in friendly greeting and sincere good-will. The Rev. Father Bodfish (applause) :
RESPONSE OF REV. J. P. BODFISH.
LADIES AND GENTLEMEN :- -
I did not know that I was to speak on this subject-as my friend General Swift did. As my time is limited, I will only express the pleasure it gives me to-day to visit this beautiful town of Falmouth, and behold the place where I was born, to see the old academy where I studied, to see the ponds and shores where I fished, and I even remember the thrill with which I caught my first herring in yonder creek. But after all that has been said, and so well said, we may well sum up in the sentiment which is expressed here-"The Christian religion : the basis of American institutions." Since I left this town I have travelled in many climes, but wherever I have been, I have always been proud of my birthplace and of my ancestry, for Falmouth has been eminently a town which has been faithful to the Christian religion. I remember in my early days the old church, which stood on yonder green. I remember the square, family pews and the three- storied pulpit. I even remember now how my neck ached as a boy, looking up at good old Dr. Hooker as he preached those lengthy ser- mons, and, although we may have changed our theological views, we
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have never changed our respect for that good and holy, God-fearing man. It has been such men as he who have adorned this pulpit of the First church in Falmouth, who have made the people of Falmouth what they are and have been,-a God-fearing people,-and it is people of this kind whom we must rely upon as defenders of our American institutions.
The last speaker has sketched out to you in a graphic way some of the questions which agitate us at the present time. The United States is not governed as Falmouth and other towns were governed when all were under the sway of religion and all united in following its teachings. Now we have many diverse elements. And now what is to secure to us peace and prosperity? I say it is nothing but the spirit of the Christian religion, and we have cause to thank God that our ancestors formed here, as I believe ever to abide, a Christian State. . We know what the Puritans thought about the State and the government, that it was to be administered according to the law of God. They did not scruple to help the Christian religion. They even ordained, if there was no church, that the State should build one. You know they took the matter of education into their own hands, and so, as you all know to-day in this town, the children were instructed in the Christian religion. 'They thought the State was a Christian institution, and the principles of the Christian religion were the basis of all our political institutions. And it is happy for us that the constitution of this State is one which recognizes the Christian religion. It has made this a great Commonwealth, and so the gov- ernment of the other States, and even the constitution of the general government, recognizes the Christian idea, the Christian religion, and
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it will be a sorry day for us when that idea is forgotten, for, as Wash- ington told us, morality and religion are the only true and sure basis of our American institutions. Therefore, as we think of our fore- fathers to-day, and remember their noble deeds, we should cherish this principle which they have given to us, which is expressed in this toast, that our religion, the Christian religion, is the basis of our American institutions. If they become atheistic, if they become materialistic, if they become communistic, then the foundation is laid for anarchy. What do I mean when I say that religion is the basis of our American institutions? It is simply this, that we recognize that power comes from God, that it is given to the people, that the people by their votes choose their rulers, and when a ruler is once chosen he rules by power which comes from God, therefore he must be respected, therefore rebellion and anarchy is a sin, and obedience to the law is a Christian virtue. Now, these are fundamental principles which are and must be maintained if we would preserve our insti- tutions.
As we think over the glorious deeds of our ancestors, we must realize that it has been these Christian principles which made them what they were. They had their eccentricities. We may not go to the lengths that they went. We would not to-day punish Roger Wil- liams if he was here in our midst, nor would we persecute the Qua- kers, or hang the Salem witches, or anything of that kind. We have learned a broader and a larger charity, and let it be a true Christian charity ; do not let it come from indifference. Some persons tolerate one religion and say one is as good as another, and all from a species of indifference. They don't care about any. But let the charity
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which promises toleration and freedom of conscience to every one be a real and true Christian charity, and not an indifference to all reli- gion. Let it come from those true principles which our forefathers have given to us as our richest legacy, and then, as has been so well expressed, we can all join hands with mutual and sincere good-will and labor together, rich and poor, labor and capital, high and low, to preserve these institutions which our fathers have left to us untar- nished (loud applause).
THE PRESIDENT.
It is well known that corporations have no souls, and the Old Colony railroad will not wait for us to sing " Home, Sweet Home"; but these exercises must close now.
The procession then reformed and escorted the governor and other guests to the depot.
In the evening an open-air concert was given on the Green by the Middleboro Band, which was followed by a grand display of fire-works.
The evening closed with a ball in the Town Hall.
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POEM Written for the Bi-centennial of the town of Falmouth, June 15, 1886, by SAMUEL C. LAWRENCE, a graduate of the Falmouth High School, class of '84.
My friends of Falmouth, gathered here to-day, In opening it is ineet that I should say That 'tis with doubt and hesitating fear That I as poet in this throng appear. But why on me the powers this task bestow? Now from my lines the reason you shall know : Your poet, (for alas! thus fame accuses,) Charmed by their song, does court the sweet-tongued muses, And for this cause this honored place he fills- To sing the glory of his native hills.
Dear Falmouth, thou to whom our hearts belong, Accept the tribute of this humble song,- Not the majestic lines of polished art, But the outpouring of a loving heart.
Gladly does Nature's lavish hand adorn Our native village on its birthday morn. The blooming earth in emerald robes is decked, Her blushing bosom is with roses flecked ; The woodland songsters, singing lond and free, Fill every grove with sounds of jubilee ! Thus does our town, amid these scenes so dear, Wake on the morn of its two hundredth year. Two hundred years ! What changes have been told, While o'er this land these fleeting years have rolled !
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But, as I speak, the present and its care Seem to have fled and vanished in the air ! I see, where now your happy dwellings stand, A gloomy forest rise on every hand ! Where now a mansion opes its doors for you, The Indian wigwam rises to my view ! There, where the church uprears its lofty spire, Gleam the bright embers of the council fire ! And now the forest deep, the hills and dells, Ring and re-echo with the warriors' yells ! This vision passes; and before my eyes Another scene appears to slowly rise: And now I seem to see a sturdy band Of pioneers, who, true in heart and hand, Have hither fled that in these wilds may be A refuge safe from power of tyranny. These are the founders of our native town; No sculptured marble tells their just renown ; Their fame lies not in marble wrought by art, But lives forever in each loyal heart! Now to their labors turn these sons of toil,- Some fell the trees, some turn the virgin soil, Until, where once the tangled forest stood, Now smile the dwellings of the brave and good. High o'er their roofs upon the breeze unrolled, The blood-red flag of England I behold.
Again the picture turns; and now a cloud Of war broods o'er the land; and deep and loud
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The volleyed thunder and the deafening roar Of battle now is heard. Upon this shore War's desolating hand is laid; Nor, Falmouth, shall thy glory fade, Which to thyself thy valiant deeds did bring, While there are hearts to love or tongues to sing ! Off from the harbor at the close of day, The British ship Retaliation lay.
Proudly her banner waved upon the breeze,- Thy flag, O England, mistress of the seas! We know the story: how that valiant band Mid tears and prayers pushed outward from the land; How their companions waited on the shore In deep suspense till hours of night were o'er, Until at dawn the captured ship they spy, At whose masthead the stars and stripes do fly ! Such were thy deeds, O Fahnouth, but we turn From scenes of strife, and gladly would we learn How lived our ancient sires, and in what way They passed the simple life of every day. Oft have been told, in prose as well as rhyme, The joys and virtues of that olden time. In early days no mighty wealth was known; Each son of toil his plot of ground did own, And here he dwelt contented with his lot,- Unused to riches, he desired them not. At early dawn forth from his couch he sprang ; And as he labored, happily he sang, And sowed his seed or turned the fruitful sod,
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