USA > Massachusetts > Plymouth County > Middleborough > Two hundredth anniversary of the First Congregational church in Middleboro, Mass > Part 7
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The large square pews of the meeting-house were arranged on all sides against the walls ; aisles in front of them extended all around, and the space in the center was filled with pews and aisles in a somewhat complicated manner ; for I remember it was sometimes a puzzling operation for me to discover my way to certain pews I wished to find. The pews were filled with seats on two or three sides, attached by hinges to the walls, so that they could be raised during the long prayer, permitting worshipers to stand with hands or arms resting upon the rail at the top. At the close of the prayer these seats went down, making a noise like a discharge of musketry at a muster.
" And when at last the loud amen Fell from aloft, how quickly then The seats came down with heavy rattle, Like musketry in fiercest battle."
A by-law of one of our towns reads: "The people are to let their seats down without such noise." And another : "The boys are not to wickedly noise down their pew-seats."
Some of these seats, with hinges attached, may be seen now in the chapel, in the rear of the church, which did service in the old meeting-house a hundred years ago.
The tops of the pews, as I remember them, were ornamented with little balusters of artistic form, which were often turned by childish hands, and made to squeak, to the amusement of the little ones, and to the annoyance of older ones.
These open balustrades afforded opportunity for children to look into neighboring pews, and occasionally to cast a paper ball at another youth, who was readily recognized. At a somewhat later period of life, through these openings sly mis- sives were sometimes passed which were of more interest than anything the most eloquent preacher could utter.
Not many days ago, a lady, now present, described to me the meeting-house of her girlish days, which was very much like the one which stood here, and she remembers on one occasion recognizing, through the baluster cubby-holes of the
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pew in which she was seated, a boy of her acquaintance ; their eyes met, and so marked were their smiles of recognition that smiles of sympathy were seen on many faces around them. I was somewhat surprised to learn that that boy was the son of the beloved pastor who, in subsequent years, occupied this pulpit for a third of a century.
This top rail of adjoining pews was used by older persons as well as by younger ones. During the long service of a hot Sunday, the grateful smelling-bottle or sprigs of caraway, dill, or fennel, or southernwood were passed by farmer, wife, or daughter as a defence against sleepiness. The poet has given us the picture.
And when I tired and restless grew, Our next pew neighbor, Mrs. True, Reached her kind hand the top rail through, To hand me dill and fennel too, And sprigs of caraway.
And as I munched the spicy seeds,
I dimly felt that kindly deeds That thus supply our present needs, Though only gifts of pungent weeds, Show true religion.
And often now through sermon trite, And operatic singer's flight, I long for that old friendly sight, The hand with herbs of value light, To help to pass the time.
It was a custom in many places for hard working men to stand up for a while and lean over the top of the pew during the sermon. I read that the deacon of a certain church never let a summer Sunday pass without thus resting himself.
One day, having ill secured the wooden button of the pew door, his leaning place gave way and out he fell with a loud noise upon the floor of the aisle. It may well be imagined there was no more sleeping for him or his neighbors during the remainder of the sermon.
A youth of our congregation, some way in his restlessness,
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at one time thrust his head through the balusters, and was unable to get it back again until, with a little commotion, he was released by friendly hands which came to his rescue.
It was not always peace and harmony in the old meeting- house. The sons of the Pilgrims had too much of the spirit of independence and of individual responsibility never to differ in opinion from one another.
One subject of difference was the introduction of stoves into the church, one party contending for it, and another very strongly opposed to it. Arguments were advanced with great spirit, pro and con, producing oftentimes an unlovely and bitter feeling among neighbors and former friends. Tradition tells us of the woman who was so oppressed by the heat of the stove which had been introduced that she was carried out fainting, and upon recovery, declared that it was caused by the offensive heat of the stove, and that she could attend church here no more; but she changed her views somewhat when she learned that no fire had as yet been kindled in the stove.
It is somewhat remarkable that this story is substantially told in the history of half a dozen of the churches of New England.
Another subject which caused a great deal of trouble in the church was the introduction of instrumental music. After a struggle, the bass viol was admitted as help for the voices. So great was the opposition of a prominent member, that he threatened to absent himself if this instrument should be seen in the church. It is said that a neighbor accused this man of trespassing upon his land, and he proposed to hang a bass viol upon one of his trees, saying that the sight of it was so offen- sive that it would keep his trespassing neighbor far away from his premises.
The violin was admitted on the condition that it should be played upside down, for then it would be a viol, and by no means a fiddle.
Then followed a great number of instruments of music, the
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double bass viol, the bassoon, the serpent, the flute, clarinet, and French horn, forming an orchestra or brass band.
It is said that some of the ancients, after the performance of the choir under these new conditions, left the church in tears, feeling that the worshipers in God's house had be- come servants of Nebuchadnezzar, whose herald proclaimed, " At what time ye hear the sound of the cornet, flute, harp, sackbut, psaltery, and dulcimer, and all kinds of music, ye fall down and worship."
The old meeting-house, though its summer heats and its winter coldness could not be forgotten, must have been left with many regrets by those who had there worshiped the God of their fathers. It must have been associated with many pleasant memories of persons and events of the past. Many distinguished men had been worshipers there. Some of the highest officers of the State had been seen there, the guests of Judge Oliver, who received the appointment of Chief Justice from the crown of Great Britain.
Benjamin Franklin once sat in one of the pews and listened to the preacher, and entertained large numbers of the peo- ple who crowded around him at the intermission and list- ened with rapt attention to his wise words, of which they could make profitable use in after years, as they repeated to their children the sayings of Poor Richard, as they were then told to call him.
Many could tell of the visit of the world-noted Whitefield, who found the house so crowded as he attempted to enter that he could gain admission only by a ladder through the pulpit window in the rear, when he preached a remarkable sermon from the text, "I am this day weak, though anointed king," which had been suggested to him not many minutes before by the pastor, who for some reason was passing through a season of despondeney.
There were also memories of remarkable triumphs of the gospel which these walls had witnessed and by them had been hallowed. During the period which elapsed between the build-
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ing of this house in 1745 and its removal in 1829, four hundred and twenty-five persons had been numbered with the members of the church.
On account of the interesting associations connected with the old meeting-house, it must have been left with some degree of sadness, though the beautiful new meeting-house opened its ample doors, inviting all to thankfulness and praise, that God had put into the hearts of his people to prepare for his worship a house of such extended proportions, of such comeliness and comfort.
Following Mr. Wood's address was an anthem by the choir : " All hail the Power of Jesus' Name " (T. M. Toune).
THE PRESIDENT OF THE DAY. - I have the pleasure now to in- troduce one who, years ago, wandered away from old Middle- boro and the protecting wing of the First Church, but who, I am well assured, has ever fondly cherished his remembrances of the good old days which some of you here present may have shared with him; one who bears a name highly honored in the annals of our venerable church, as well as in the wider circles of the business world, - Mr. John Eddy, of Providence.
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ADDRESS OF MR. JOHN EDDY
MR. PRESIDENT : When Dr. Wayland was president of Brown University, an unsuccessful country minister applied to him for a professorship in that institution. The doctor in- quired of him what chair he considered himself best qualified to fill. The parson replied, "I kinder thought I might slide into e'en a'most any on 'em."
When your committee inquired what part I would take in this celebration, I replied that I kinder thought I should pre- fer to slide into a postscript.
Anxious mothers are said to keep their children close in summer time, but in the winter to let them slide. This season of the year is not propitious for that kind of recreation, and I have been fearing that the temperature may give me a slide in quite another direction.
I find myself in the position of the Irishman who was directed to blow some powders through a tube into a horse's throat. When inquired of about his success, he declared that he had none at all, for the horse took advantage of him.
By the addresses of yesterday and to-day, the wind has been taken out of my sail, so far as reminiscences go (as the Brit- tania did it for the Vigilant). I will not, therefore, use " vain repetitions, as the heathen do."
Just fifty-seven years ago, I heard Hon. Orestes A. Bronson (then a promising light) deliver an oration, in which he com- pared the government of England to that of the United States. He spoke of the ruling classes as having been largely born to their positions, but he thanked God that, in this country, if a man was born at all he was well born. Why not go a little further and say that the institutions of New England are all "well born"? Especially that of this church, whose natal day we honor ourselves in celebrating. Let us publicly thank God for its foundation, that its history has been so full of
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Divine guidance, and has through all these years been so replete with benignity.
As our fathers were English, we have naturally credited England with more than its share in shaping our destinies.
New England " was born in Geneva, expanded in Holland, and transplanted to Scotland, and begat the revolution in England, and went over in the 'Mayflower' with the Pilgrims to the New World, to seek a temple for the God of liberty and a refuge for human rights."
By the experiences of our English ancestors gained in Hol- land, we inherit the best that was then known of government, education, and religion.
It is not to these, however, that I wish to call your atten- tion, but rather to the inestimable value that our ancestors put upon pious homes. From their expressions, both in public and in private correspondence, it is apparent that their chief idea and inducement in emigrating to the New World was to establish homes in which they might be secure "from great men's oppression and the bishop's rage," and where they might hand down to posterity their idea of a Christian household.
They appreciated the goodness of God that he had " set the solitary in families."
The comparatively mild laws which were enacted by the Plymouth Colony, and the more oppressive statutes of Massa- chusetts Bay, had their origin in their overwhelming desire to protect their homes from injurious contact with the perverse ways of the world.
In England, their homes had been subject to search, and it was here provided at an early day that a man's house should be inviolate.
How would our fathers turn in their graves to find a law on our statute books which gives the right to a civil officer to search a home, even though it might be reasonably sure that intoxicating liquors would be brought to light.
In some of the western States, the sanctity of home has been
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provided for in their constitutions by making a homestead exempt from attachment for the debts of the owner.
The only excuse for such a provision is that the home is thereby preserved, from which flows all that is best in our civilization. For that reason, it is worthy of imitation.
In no other country does the word mean so much as here. Nor is there one where the home is more sacredly guarded and kept more pure.
In some languages, there is no word corresponding to our word "home," nor is there the virtue that prevails here.
It is, therefore, in the spirit of our Pilgrim Fathers that we so love to sing the song which is, and ever shall be, most dear to our hearts, -
" 'Mid pleasures and palaces tho' we may roam, Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home.
A charm from the skies seems to hallow us there,
Which, seek thro' the world, is ne'er met with elsewhere. Home, Home, sweet, sweet Home,
There's no place like Home, O, there's no place like Home."
To the homes of the Pilgrims, women contributed the larger share of influence, deprivation, and labor. As there were no servants, women not only did their own work but spun and wove, reared, on an average, eight children, and made the clothing of the family, and, if occasion required could do things more heroic. It was a grandmother of mine who, on hear- ing the pigs squeal, concluded that a wild beast was in the pen, and in a dark night, while her lord was absent, took the old King's-arm from above the mantel and bagged a bear. What man could be so audacious as to refuse such woman's rights ?
It was Elizabeth, the wife of Samuel Eddy, my first ancestor in this country, who walked from Plymouth to Boston on a Sunday to be at the deathbed of Mrs. Saffin, and was fined four shillings sixpence therefor by the governor and assistants.
Within the limits of this parish, while but twenty houses had been built in Middleboro, at the time of the breaking out
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of King Philip's War (1675), John Eddy was hoeing corn in his field with his trusty musket at his side. Indians were lurk- ing in his neighborhood with deadly intent. He perceived one in the distance and drew a bead upon him and the Indian fell. At the same instant the Indian also fired, and the bullets passed each other. The bullet of the Indian knocked the hammer off the gun of my ancestor. So near did his deseend- ants here present come to missing this anniversary.
While glorifying our fathers, let us never forget to do greater homage to our mothers.
How vividly do I remember the home of one who for twenty- eight years was a deacon of this church, which came as near to the Christian ideal as can well be conceived. He was a patriarch of the old school, and a captain during the war of the Revolution. It is some sixty-five years since he went to his home above. He had a numerous family, and five of his sons settled near the paternal mansion. But such an attraction did the old home possess that for many years after these sons, at the hour of evening prayer, gathered around the old family altar. To such is the promise that their peace shall flow like a river.
Their social gatherings ended with a prayer of thanksgiving and a song of praise and John Newton's doxology.
If any one in the neighborhood was known to have offended against morality, the good old deacon would be so grieved that with tears in his eyes he would beg the delinquent not to offend again in like manner, till it became a threat against evil-doers : "I will set the deacon on to you."
On one occasion he heard a stranger use profane language. Without a word, the countenance of the good man betrayed his grief. They parted without speaking. A short time there- after the stranger returned and acknowledged the reproof and vowed he would never again use a profane expression.
But it was on Thanksgiving days that his whole soul seemed to be poured out in gratitude and praise. On the evening before, the numerous progeny began to assemble till the vil-
1
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lage was overflowing. From far and near they came, attracted by the magnetism of that home influence. No special invita- tions were given, and their coming was a matter of course. The welcome was unbounded, and the whole neighborhood entered into the spirit of it. It was the red-letter day of all the year. The morning was spent at church in public and devont thanksgiving. And what singing they did enjoy in those good old days, when a hundred voices were led by a bugle and a dozen other musical instruments ! How vividly did the plains of Palestine rise to my youthful imagination, when rang out so as to shake the building : -
" While shepherds watched their flocks by night, All seated on the ground, The angel of the Lord came down, And glory shone around."
So also when " All Hail the Power of Jesus' Name " was rendered, I could see the multitude assembling, coming from all Christian nations to " crown him Lord of all."
There was a Thanksgiving dinner in every house, and in the evening came the grand reunion at the patriarchal mansion.
Of all religious meetings or ceremonies, I have never wit- nessed one that compared with it in pathos. Had any been in trouble, heart-felt sympathy did its perfect work. Had any been unfortunate, genuine benevolence made the losses good. Had there been any misunderstandings, all were healed and geniality mingled with prayer and praise. It was to every one present a never-to-be-forgotten benediction. "A charm from the skies seemed to hallow us there."
The whole family were musical, and one of the daughters had a charming and ringing voice. When it struck the treble in those old fugue tunes, it seemed to raise the rafters. It may be from association, but I had rather hear that music than the modern scientific.
"If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, let my right hand forget her cunning ; . .. if I prefer not Jerusalem above my chief joy."
I think I voice the sentiment of the descendants of the good
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old deacon to the fourth generation here present, when I declare that we will ever hold his example in grateful remem- brance, and will ever be thankful for such an ancestry.
A logical product of that home influence I call to mind in the delightful remembrance of that spotless young man 1 who was so deeply interested in the welfare of this church (as well as in the one to which he belonged in the chief city of the State), and who would have contributed by his presence so much to the success of this festival, had he lived a few months longer. As the pencil of the Holy Ghost has recorded noth- ing against the character of Joseph, so the record of this righteous young man is without a stain. Other families in this grand old parish can undoubtedly furnish a sketch of their own equally worthy, for all of which let us thank God and take courage.
No better illustration of a Christian home can be found than that of the late Rev. Dr. Israel W. Putnam, who was for so many years the beloved pastor of this church. He was a born genial gentleman, brimful of the milk of human kindness. No one could have been more sympathetic, benevolent, and helpful, and no one has left a more enduring and delightful memory. His spiritual children rise up and call him blessed.
Let us then imitate the virtues and heroism of our fathers, and especially such as relate to loving and pure homes, and let us hand them down unimpaired to the last syllable of recorded time.
" Build thee more stately mansions, O my soul, As the swift seasons roll ! Leave thy low-vaulted past ! Let each new temple, nobler than the last, Shut thee from heaven with a dome more vast, Till thou at length art free, Leaving thine outgrown shell by life's unresting sea !"
1 Francis G. Pratt, Jr. See page 120.
Francis G. Prutt In.
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JUDGE FULLER'S ADDRESS
THE PRESIDENT OF THE DAY. - While we hopefully face the unknown future, many of the felicitous utterances of this festal occasion naturally turn the mind backward, as if to stem the stream of time, - a task which only the mind may perform. Far away in the earliest years of our history, those pristine times of simplicity, hardship, heroism, and piety, looms up the personality of our original pastor, Samuel Fuller, of revered memory. We are fortunate in having with us to-day one of his lineal descendants, who in the legal profession sus- tains the dignity illustrated by his forefathers in the minis- terial and medical. With much pleasure I introduce Judge Fuller, of Taunton.
ADDRESS OF HON. WILLIAM E. FULLER
MR. PRESIDENT : With all my heart I join with you to-day in paying a tribute of honor to the fathers of this church.
Its rolls bear the names of my father and my mother, Jabez Fuller and Sally Churchill Fuller.
On headstones, near the gate of the opposite burying-ground, you may read the names of my grandparents, Doctor Jonathan Fuller and Lucy Eddy Fuller.
My parents moved to another church in 1826, and my grand- father died in 1802, so that probably no man now living in this parish remembers either of them. To you I am a stranger, but to myself I seem to be standing among kindred spirits. Doctor Jonathan Fuller was the grandson of Doctor Isaac Fuller, who, in turn, was the youngest son of Rev. Samuel Fuller, the first minister of the First Church of Christ in Middleboro.
Only four generations of my ancestors in the Fuller line stand between me and the first minister.
Do you recal with deep and sympathetic interest the names of those pioneers, children of the Pilgrims, who first came here from Plymouth to make homes for themselves and their descendants, to establish this church of Christ, to found a town? So do I.
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Do your minds stray away from present circumstances and linger around the early dwellings of those who first cleared and tilled these fields and dotted them with homes? So does mine.
Do you often think what strenuous and incessant toil was required of them, men, women, and children all alike, only to wrench from the unwilling earth their annual subsistence ? And yet how much beyond all that they created and trans- mitted to their descendants !
Who built these miles on miles of walls that bound and sub-divide your farms? Who first wrought these scores of miles of highways that connect farm with farm, and neighbor- hood with neighborhood? Nearly all of them were built by the first three generations.
Let us strive in our imagination to come to-day still nearer to the lives of those early dwellers. Let us enter their primi- tive dwellings. Not one of them to-day stands upon the face of the earth. Sixty years ago, few, if any, remained. But you recal the picture of the old-time dwelling; its low, over- hanging roof, its great central chimney, its wooden door-latch, and the leather latchstring hanging out by day and pulled in by night. Inside you see the great open fireplace, with its crane and trammels and pots and skillets, and above the mantel-piece the rusty old firelock, high above the reach of the children. There stands the rude oaken table around which the great family is fed, and here the high-backed settle, saving the need of many bark-seated chairs. The piano is not there, but the spinning-wheel is, and mother and daughters all alike were skilled in drawing forth its soothing roundelay. In the corner stands the high-post bed, where pa and ma and baby sleep, and underneath it slides the trundle-bed, where two or three more tired toddlers snooze and dream.
We know what stedfast men and women were produced in those simple homes. The orator has told you to-day. We know them by their fruits. They labored, and we have entered into their labors.
Joshua Eddy
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Only once, before to-day, have I sat in this church. It was forty years ago, but I have not yet forgotten the fine, firm features of old Dr. Putnam, nor the clear, distinct purpose of the sermon that he preached that day. Even now I seem to see sitting in these pews other forms than those that you behold. Again I seem to be sitting in the pew beside my genial, loved, and honored kinsman and namesake, the elder William Eddy. In the pew just in front of me rises up the venerable form of good old Joshua Eddy1, whose snowy hair and benignant face reflect the mild light of other days. Not far away I see the stern and solemn countenance of old Nathaniel Eddy, a typical deacon of the old-time school. And just across the aisle mine eyes behold again, with youthful admiration, the towering form of the serene and learned old counselor, Zechariah Eddy, contemporary and every inch the peer of those other eminent lawyers in the old Colony, Marcus Morton, William Baylies, and Daniel Webster.
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