USA > New Hampshire > Hillsborough County > Amherst > Celebration of the one hundred and fiftieth anniversary of the incorporation of Amherst, New Hampshire June 17, 1910, including the proceedings of the committee, addresses and other exercises of the occasion > Part 4
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Lawyer, lawyer, come to court, Take a piece of bread and pork; If the pork is not done Take a piece of bread and run.
ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTIETH ANNIVERSARY
L
COURT HOUSE ROAD
This is not so much history, however, as reminiscence, and this is my friend Fletcher's prerogative today.
Amherst's part in the suppression of the Rebellion, in that memorable struggle from 1861 to 1865, is one that makes the heart of every lover of the old town swell with honest pride. Amherst was quick to respond to the call of the country for defenders of her cherished liberties. It is with grateful hearts we cherish the memory of the brave deeds of those noble benefactors. A faithful historian has forever preserved the record of Amherst's part in those stirring yet sorrowful scenes.
The first call of the president for troops was responded to by volunteers, Sawtelle, George, Burdick, Mcore, Peabody, Champney, Hall, David, Ober, Chickering, Russell, Hartshorn and Griswold and Phelps.
Nearly all of these volunteers reenlisted for the full term of three years.
It was not alone those who went to the front upon whom the sorrows of war bore heavily. The widow and the orphan, the mother and the father of some beloved son bore equally, perhaps more heavily, the hardships that war entailed.
The cost of the war to this town was large but was cheerfully borne by her loyal and patriotic citizens. The aggregate expense was nearly $50,000. It is none the less to the credit of the citi- zens, that a large share of this expense was returned afterwards
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TREE AND STONE GROWN TOGETHER IN THE OLD BURIAL GROUND
by a grateful country, for such was not expected during the dark days of its continuance.
The names of the martyred dead are readily recalled, and the names of Few, Phelps, Hapgood are but reminders of the many who sacrificed their all for the defence of the liberties of a nation.
Less than fifty years ago Amherst had a body of men loyal to the state, to the county, the town and to themselves. They repre- sented a type, not entirely extinct by any means, but appearing to grow less and less in number each year. Not alone is this true with respect to. Amherst. It is so in many another community. Think for a moment of the men of less than five decades ago who were then active in Amherst's affairs. Beginning at the west of the village there was Francis Peabody, white haired and a constant church attendant; then came Harrison Eaton, a type of a successful business man, kindly, dignified and generous; Dr. J. G. Davis, scholarly and revered, a worthy shepherd of a loyal flock; Dr. William Clark, stern and severe in what he believed to be right; Deacon Boylston, active, kindly, generous in the ex- treme, ardent in his support of church and state; Charles Richard- son, somewhat indolent, but a ready debater on political matters; Aaron Lawrence, aristocratic, erect, dignified and benevolent, and a friend to all and active in every good cause; Samuel B. Melendy, always industrious and desirous of serving the public; Perley Dodge, Esq., a town attorney and lawyer of the old school; B. B. David, always in his seat at church immaculately dressed, going down the decline of life, keeping his interest alive in all matters
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of local importance; Hiram Stearns, a hard-working farmer; David Stewart, Doctor Aiken and Doctor Bartlett, all type of men not so common today. Driving in from Moderator Hill were William A. Mack, Daniel Secomb and Charles H. Campbell, Mr. Hubbard and Aaron Wilkins, a coterie of men whose wisdom at the town annual meeting was indispensable. From Christian Hill came Jotham Hartshorn and Deacon Elliott, men of sound judg- ment in business matters. These men were not all of the same political belief nor did they always think the same upon matters of publie concern, but their combined wisdom was hard to dupli-
EDWIN BENDEN
cate and they inade few mistakes where matters concerning the publie good were involved.
The high tide of Amherst's commercial prosperity, as well as the date of its largest population, was from 1790 to 1800. At this time there were 2,369 inhabitants. In the census of 1810 the population had fallen off nearly a thousand. This is accounted for by the severing of the second and third parishes incorporated as the townships of Mont Vernon and Milford. The former in 1804 and the latter in 1798. Previous to these two dates Amherst also enjoyed its greatest building activity and the then palatial residences of Capt. Daniel Pryor, now the McKeen homestead, the Means house, the Dana house and the Atherton mansions were
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built. It was in the latter house, now the summer home of Mrs. Spaulding of New York, that Benevolent Lodge of Masons, in the year 1797, was organized with Mr. Dana as its first Worshipful Master.
In 1800, Portsmouth, Rochester, Londonderry, Barrington and Gilmanton were the only towns of the state having a larger popu- lation than Amherst. Of the causes that contributed to Amherst's decline in the ratio of importance in the state and its inability to hold its own in the race for supremacy one man's opinion at this time is as good as another's. It did not lack in loyal and
J. BYRON FAY
brilliant men, for no town had more. The tide of emigration had set towards localities favored with water privileges. Richer farming land was sought and found. The railroads came and followed the course of the river, for upon the rivers were the larger centers. And so in the strife for the survival of the fittest Amherst was distanced and left by the wayside, not, however, to be absorbed by other and larger towns or to disappear like its neighbor, the town of Monson, entirely from the face of the earth, but to continue as a useful and helpful community, always retain- ing the respect of its more thrifty neighbors and sending forth to enrich other states some of the brightest and brainiest men that the country has known.
A town that has produced a writer like Greeley, who was ahnost elected president of the United States; John Farmer, the historian;
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James Freeman Dana, a professor at Dartmouth; Dr. Samuel Dana, his brother, a noted scientist; Gen. Joseph Lowe, a military character of Revolutionary times, and later mayor of Concord; Col. Robert Means, treasurer of the county for many years; Isaac Spaulding and Joseph Reed, two business men, who if they had lived today would have been classed with the Rockefellers as masters of finance. A town that has furnished a United States senator, a member of Congress, furnished a president to Dart- month College and a pastor of the Park Street Church can hardly be said to have existed in vain.
Three sentiments are said to appeal most to men - retrospect, realization and anticipation. We stand today upon the threshhold of the past and the future. The past with all its sacred memories is fragrant with hopes realized. Of the future we cannot speak; it is an unwritten book and We shall turn its leaves one by one. We sons and daughters of old Amherst believe, however, that good things are yet in store for the children of so good a people. as have gone before us, and we look to the future with hope and confidence.
It has been a real pleasure for me to review the past in this incomplete address and the compensation has been great in the satisfaction of a better acquaintance with my native town and an increased love for her "dells and hills, her rocks and rills."
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SENTIMENTAL REMINISCENCES.
Address by Gustavus G. Fletcher of Chattanooga, Tenn.
I am very glad that it has been possible for me to leave my home in Tennessee and come here to exchange greetings with, and bring you a simple message; indeed were it not simple, it would not be in keeping with the life and character of a man trained along other lines than for the public platform. I confess
GUSTAVUS G. FLETCHER
to some surprise in having received an invitation from your committee on celebration to deliver an address "In the Nature of Reminiscence."
For your comfort I will state that I shall deal with only one phase of the subject - sentimental reminiscence -- which will, I hope, in some measure be agreeable to you. The historian has beautifully presented all that you ought to crave of historical facts.
Sentiment is a phase of human life which probably does not
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receive the attention its importauce demands. Persons without sentiment are entitled to sympathy; they are much like a tree bereft of its branches; the graceful lines are gone; it is shunned by the artist, the landscape gardener, and the forester; it is songht after only by the mercenary lumberman because he sees in it so many feet of lumber at a price.
We find ourselves today in the august presence of memory. whose existence measures the span from chaos to eternity; it is the basis of knowledge; an attribute of the Infinite and sus- ceptible of cultivation by the finite.
It is a wonder the ancients did not deify it for worship; and that the Greeks did not attempt to chisel some semblance of it from marble of snowy whiteness into the "human form divine." When men have wrought ill, memory is covered with a pall of the darkest dye bordered with a fringe of the most sombre hue, and they devoutly wish memory were a blank. When men have wrought well, life is sweet, the step elastic, and there is only fragrance along the way.
Let the past come to us now as sweet scented as the rose, as pure as the lily, and as refreshing and health-giving as a typical morning in June.
It is indeed a very great privilege as well as a peculiar pleasure to be here on this occasion, where history, memory, and senti- ment contributo to the pleasure and profit of all.
I am not unmindful of my own responsibility; and it causes me to be just a little fearful lest the committee of arrangements have too greatly honored me, in asking that I voice memories of departed days which are a heritage from the youth of us all. There is, however, encouragement in the fact, that I have never found anywhere a community more gracious and kindly dis- posed toward me than you have always been; I assure you your kindness has ever brought good cheer to my heart.
Many of us who celebrate today also celebrate the centennial anniversary of the incorporation of this grand old town. We, of that day who now celebrate, stand on an eminence, a half century higher than we stood then. From this vantage point of view we all observe that the leading spirits, and most of the others in middle life of the 1860 festal day have passed on. Since that time other brains have planned, and other palnis have molded and shaped the happenings hereabout. We inquire of every inovation whence, and of every transition whither.
It is quite plain that this is a time and place for sentiment. This town is not only the place of our birth, but also of the early events in our lives, and we love it for its history and tradition. Sentiment pure and simple ought then to hold us at this moment in fond embrace.
The committee has wisely selected for this celebration a "senti- mental" day indeed. In Charlestown with banners flying and bands playing, the populace are exultant because our patriotic ancestors freely gave up their lives on Bunker Hill in laying the foundation of this great nation. In contrast, but no less senti- mental, is the fact that a cannon so diminutive that it would hardly serve the purpose of the lad of today to properly celebrate tne deeds of American valor, is guarded with jealous care in the battlements on the north bank of the St. Lawrence near the once bloody Plains of Abraham. Visitors from the states in Quebec at this very hour observe how the breast of the English soldier
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ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTHSTH ANNIVERSARY
heaves with national pride as he points to the captured gun and says, "This is a token of remembrance of our victory at Bunker IIill!"
The glory of it is, we now hold the "hill" on which we celebrate, and the Englishman is welcome to his little token of remembrance.
Beside sentiment, we are willingly governed at this time by the direction in which all eyes are turned. In mountain climbing, it is restful and profitable to pause once in a while in the ascent and look backward; the tired muscles relax; the view charms; the height already gained, inspires courage for renewed effort in ascending higher. So it is in the activities of life; it is worth on while to occasionally pause, and cast our eyes in the ouly direction in which we can have an unobstructed view - backward.
We cannot look ahead with any certainty of a clear vision; we can guess, surmise, speculate, but you will notice the curtain remains down until about the time the play begins, and then comes a series of surprises and developments that keep you busy. Futile attempts to peer into the future are ever present. Just one illustration. The nations at large have recently joined our country in paying honor to the name and fame of Robert Fulton, who surprised and startled the world one day in his achievement of propelling a vessel by steam on the Hudson River.
Naturally much discussion ensued as to the future of steam navigation. A man of brilliant mind across the Atlantic, wrote a book giving proof in theory at least of how impossible it would be for a steam propelled vessel to cross the ocean. While he was busy writing the Americans were busy building a steamer. They crossed the Atlantic, and on the return voyage brought the wonderful book which undertook to prove that the thing which they had already accomplished could not be done.
Men who are yet in the youth of old age well remember what a crazy thing it was thought to be, to attempt to build a steamer that would speed from England to America in six days! Now observe the record of the Mauretania and her sister ships. This is the spectiele-a dream of the public mind in our boyhood becomes a two-fold realization in our manhood. We know little of the tomorrows; we are only certain of the yesterdays. We
surely will be considered sane, and I trust safe in our conclusions, if we engage ourselves today in the pastime of looking backward.
Our attention is frequently called to the fact that we do not fully appreciate the advantage of retrospect. In commending the placing of a tablet in the public library at Mont Vernon, to the memory of a man to whom this section is greatly indebted - the late Hon. George A. Marden - the Milford Cabinet in an editorial, November 4, 1909, made use of these significant words: "Ameri- cans are not enough given to retrospect or remembrance of per- sons or things gone by, and do not look back for admiration, example or pleasure upon the works or personalities of people of the past."
Yet again, fifty years ago in dismissing an audience here gathered to celebrate the centennial of the birth of Amherst township, the Hon. Charles H. Campbell, president, said: "We adjourn to meet May 30th, 1960." I am sure it is a hopeful sign that you have felt impelled to not wait the century out before again meeting to give yourselves over "to retrospect and remem- brance of persons and things gone by." Agreeably with your wise decision, let us gently touch the hidden springs of memory, and fondly contemplate what is brought forth.
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First of all then this is the place where we were born, and we rejoice thereat. If there is a spot on the habitable globe more dear to the heart than another, it is the place of one's birth. No memories cling to us with such tenacity as do those of childhood and youth; when the activities of middle life are forgotten, those of the youthful days, fountain like, gush forth; we are always in sympathy with the lines of Woodworth, the Massachusetts farmer boy, written in his loneliness in New York City :
"How dear to this heart are the scenes of my childhood,
When fond recollection presents them to view!"
It is natural for mankind to love the place of their nativity. I have never known a man who was ashamed of the place of his birth, and but one woman; and I hope never to meet another; it would make me lose confidence in humanity. I am glad this person is a woman and not a man, for I could not excuse a man; somehow we can excuse in the gentler sex actions for which we can find no reason; women are and have a right to be sentimental and emotional; it adds to their charms.
Why this acquaintance should be ashamed to own that she was born in the beautiful city of Detroit is not known; she does not know herself; the only reason she gives is a favorite one of her sex-"Becanes!" The only excuse I can offer for her, and the only palliation for my own feelings in the matter, is expressed in the words of the small boy who was not altogether appreciative of the accomplishments of his younger sister, and feeling that his vocabulary could not do the subject justice, simply said, "She is only a girl." It takes at least one exception to prove a rule. Men and women do love and will continue to revere their native place.
New Engalnders are especially pleased and satisfied that the accident of birth came to them here. It may seem blessed to have been born on the bank of one of the piny streams in the great state of Maine, or amid the incomparable green hills of Vermont, or along the shore of historic and classic Massachusetts, or somewhere by factories humming merrily in the Commonwealth of Connecticut, or perhaps in "Little Rhoda," which first of all the states has the distinction of having gathered four fifths of her population into busy cities. But - is there anywhere between the eternal rocks lashed by the waves of the boisterous Atlantic, and where the surf rolls gently np on the Pacific slope, and between the picturesque unsalted commercial seas of the north, and the Great Gulf that kisses the border of our sunny Southland a better place in which to first see the light, than in our own beloved New Hampshire - the "Switzerland of America," and where in all this state is a more lovely spot than just here? Somehow the far famed mountains, the low sweet murmur of the pines, the mirror like lakes lying in the bosom of the granite hills, streams wandering amid the the highlands, and winding serpen- tine like through the green meadows, passing ever on to the sea - all contribute to lofty aspirations, and to make sturdy qualities in the lives of men born in the Granite State.
It is a good state in which to develop the intellect -a good place to "think," and digest what is learned in the text books. A greater per cent. of Dartmouth College graduates have turned out to be really eminent men, than the gradnates of any other college in our wide domain. Pity it is, that many of us who have had no liberal education, could not have had the privilege of develop-
.
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ment within Dartmouth's walls, that we might have done better service in helping to build this great nation of ours; but let us be thankful that what is denied the fathers, is often a privilege of the sons.
You have always been so kind to me that I make bold to indulge in a word that is just a little personal, but I say it to glorify your state, and what I consider your chief asset.
Not long since I visited the office of a young attorney in the city of Chattanooga. On the wall over his desk is suspended a picture of Dartmouth College buildings and grounds, with a glimpse of the hills
A VILLAGE SCENE
beyond. The young man pointed to it and said : "Father, that pic- ture of my Alma Mater is ever a source of pleasure and inspiration to me " The young man had a choice of attending any college or uni- versity in the United States. He has never ceased to thank himself that, after the most careful deliberation he was wise enough to have selected Dartmouth. Of the five diplomas he holds from educational institutions, the one he prizes high above the sum of them all, is the one that bears upon it the seal of old Dartmouth. I venture the as- sertion, that the greatest pleasure of his college career comes to him by his right to wear the little insignia of high grade college work -- a Phi Beta Kappa key which is inscribed "Dartmouth 1904."
We have here on this platform a native of this town, and a distin
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guished son of Dartmouth. A number of us celebrating here were schoolmates of his in the little old red "knowledge box ' in District No. 3, better known as "Cricket Corner." The school is one of a system of educational institutions which has made New England famous. 1 use the word schoolmates advisedly; our grey matter in quality and quantity did not admit of our being his classmates ; he was in a class by himself; and it is not necessary for me to tell you in the parlance of the rural schools of that day, that his was the first class in all studies. He lived in a different world from the rest of us. I am ashamed of it now, but but we felt a sympathy for him almost bordering upon sorrow, because we thought he must feel so lonesome !
Forty and more years and what now? He is still in a class by himself ; he still lives in another world ; he has a prefix to his name because of his much learning.
With the notable exception of the present head of the Boston bar, we have no prefix nor affix, nor suffix to our names; we are in just this fix-we move along in the motly throng unnoticed and unknown; we wear no wreath of laurels, and do not march in the van ; we are what is known as "tail enders." Occasionally we may be asked to do something easy like reminiscence - something that all understand, and that anybody can do, but when the realm of the classics and sci- ences are invaded we are barred by lack of ability and preparation.
When the governor of the great state of Minnesota wishes to know something of the soil that produces wheat, sought after by many na- tions in many climes; if he desires information about the beautiful lakes dotting the emerald landscape like a setting of diamonds, lie doffs his hat and walks into the presence of Dr. Warren Upham and asks him. When the selfsame governor seeks historical knowledge of townships, distinguished families and noted personages in our Un- ion of states and the Dominion of Canada, he hies himself to the li- brary of the Minnesota Historical Society in St. Paul, and holds a conference with Librarian Upham. Governors may come and go, and be more in the lime-light than is our friend, but he is a power be- hind the high office of governor greater than the office itself.
Warren, I did not mean to make you blush ! When we cold phleg- matic Yankees and amature orators get into action we are apt to em- barrass people. Beside we are celebrating today and have privileges, and I want to exercise all the privileges coming to me.
No matter whether we be college graduates or not, nor how lazy nor dull, nor inefficient we may be rated as being later in life, none of us need be ashamed of what we accomplished in the first decade of our existence.
The activities, developments aud accomplishments of child life are too well known to dwell upon here. The fullness of joy crowded into that period is the matter of our concern just now; the recollection of it follows us all of our days.
Pursuit creates a happiness so far overshadowing possession, that the child is kept delighted by constantly learning from day to day. The child is a student of nature, seience and art. Rather deep studies, are they not?
Nature is the store-house, science is the key which unlocks it, and art's proudest triumph is to interpret nature. As embryo men and women we thought, planned, and executed. We had our ideals. We placed in our childhood's "Hall of Fame" the minister, the lawyer, the doctor, the village store-keeper, the high school master, the captain of the gaudily uniformed fire company, also the "rich." We did not theu know the terms "possessor of wealth," "capitalist," and "captains of industry"; but if a man
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was called "rich" he was distinguished in our childish estimation, and must necessarily have a place in our "Hall of Fame."
The natural and social parts of our environment are happy memories; the blades of grass, the opening flowers, the woods, the streams, the hills; the old homestead, our favorite play grounds, the change of season, from spring to summer, from autumn to winter, with the occupations and sports peculiar to each; then the vivid imagination that some day we would become men and women such as we had placed in our "Hall of Fame"; the school days, too, with the friendships then formed never to be broken - all conjoin to make us even at this good hour almost wish that we could have been children forever. I cannot pass from childhood's happy hour, without one reference to what I may term the feeling of possession or ownership and our love and pride interwoven with it all. This was our town, our streets, our hills, our school, our church. The feeling of ownership gave an added charm to childlife that we have felt at no time and no where else. I never expect to hear, until I hear it in the New Jerusalem, a bell of sweeter tone than the one that swings in your church belfry. Lovely chimes I have heard here and there, but my ear in childhood had already been attuned to the tone made by the clock striking the honr on the church bell here. No weathervane has ever struck my fancy with such thrilling force as the "golden rooster" on the church steeple; true I have in later years wondered why the form of a harp, or cross, or crown would not have been more appropriate. Perhaps the vane had a two-fold purpose in the minds of those responsible for its being placed there -- to indicate the direction of the wind, and to remind worshippers that it was the crowing of the cock that brought St. Peter to a realization of the broken vow to his Lord and Master.
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