USA > New Hampshire > Sullivan County > Acworth > History of Acworth, with the proceedings of the centennial anniversary, genealogical records, and register of farms > Part 4
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simple fact, the evidence of which is on the town records, suffi- ciently refutes the assertion.
Let me here bear testimony to the credit 'due to the persistent energy of Rev. Phineas Cooke, who inaugurated and carried for- ward, in the face of ridicule and opposition, the temperance re- form in this town. I remember well the excitement caused by the movement, the witticismns perpetrated at its expense, the wrath of those who thought their liberties infringed, and the difficulties in the church, which resulted in his dismissal, after a faithful min- istry of fourteen years. Though he was driven from his cherished field of labor, yet the work he inaugurated went steadily on. Based upon correct principles, no form of opposition to it can per- manently succeed. Many who joined in the clamor against him, were glad afterwards to acknowledge their error, and to join at last in doing honor to his memory. In years to come, his name will be spoken with reverence, both for the fragrance of his mem- ory in the churches, and for the change he wrought in the habits of his people, and in removing their most besetting sin. Though dead, he yet speaks on this subject, as well as on others which per- tain to his high calling. The words he uttered in reference to it, from this place, were winged with a power which no time can ex- haust. And the discussions to which they gave rise, and to which the young listened on the Sunday noons, on the grass under the east windows of this church, have been as good seed sown in many hearts.
How well I remember those Sunday noons ! There was scarcely a thought which had been uttered from this pulpit, that was not there discussed. How distinctly I see the forms of the earnest old men, the leading members of the parish-Col. Duncan, Dea. Fin- lay, Dea. Grout, Samuel Anderson, Lemuel Lincoln, and many others, their contemporaries in the history of the town! What hard shots they could give, and what sharp retorts they would pleasantly receive ! Is it but a fond partiality for the recollections of childhood, that makes me think the men of that day a noble race ? Their foibles and vices seem to me to be overshadowed by the finest qualities of mind and heart, that I have ever seen in quite an extensive acquaintance with many classes of people.
"Theirs was a noble spirit ; rough,
But generous, and brave and kind."
While we honor their memories, let us prove ourselves worthy
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of such an ancestry. Well for us, if we inherit their inflexible adherence to their honest convictions, their untiring industry and patient endurance, their cheerfulness and good humor under diffi- culties and trials ; well, if we serve our God as faithfully as they sought to do.
The history of a town like this furnishes but few incidents of general interest. It was not settled, when Capt. John Stevens so gallantly defended Fort No. 4, from the hostile visit of the French and Indians, under M. Debaline, in 1747. Had it been, it might yet have escaped the notice of the enemy; for the absence of nearly all the nut-bearing trees, indicates that it did not lie in the war-paths of the Indians, who usually followed the courses of the larger rivers. It has, therefore, for recital, no startling details of Indian treachery and cruelty ; though, once in a while, as the tra- dition runs, a solitary Indian strayed through the settlement.
No terrible tragedy ever occurred within its borders ; and its annals are unstained with the records of any appalling crime. Few towns have had so peaceful an existence, with a quiet so uni- formly unruffled.
Our Connecticut ancestors were devout believers in ghosts. A few of those harmless visitors were reported to have made noctur- nal incursions into the houses of the earlier inhabitants; and a number of witch-stories used to be told, to the amazement and terror of the children of fifty years ago. But looking back to those periods in the light of the present day, I think we shall all agree that the worst spirits with which the people ever had to deal came from the distilleries, and the most fearful ghosts that ever danced over these hills were conjured up by fancies, disturbed by an enemy the people had put to their own mouths. Witches there certainly were here in my younger days, and I must own to being often disturbed by their magic wiles ; and judging from what may be seen to-day, at this great gathering of the fairer portion of the present and former inhabitants of the town, they have not yet lost their power of enchantment.
Turning from the past, one look at the present and the future. From its physical peculiarities, Acworth can never be otherwise than mainly an agricultural town. Its water-power is insufficient for extensive mechanical or manufacturing purposes. In the fu- ture, as in the past, its population must be somewhat limited. But its resources have never yet been fully developed. These hills may be made more productive than they have ever yet been. By bet-
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ter culture, your crops may be doubled and quadrupled. By ju- dicious underdraining and a liberal use of the rich muck of your swamps, by skillful composting and more attention to the adapta- tion of the soil to particular crops, with a market so near as Clare- mont, and a railroad for transportation to Boston within eight miles of your village, your farms may be made as profitable as any in the country. By encouraging the introduction of such manufactures as may be profitably pursued, employment may be given to your young men and young women. Far better for them and for the place, if they are kept at home by such inducements, than if compelled to leave for a livelihood elsewhere. There is no reason why your farms may not be made more productive by the methods indicated, and your home-market of twice its present capacity in its demand for your products. With the present im- proved implements for ditching and underdraining ; for planting, . reaping and gathering; for mowing, raking and pitching; the labor required to accomplish this will be much less than that ex- pended by your fathers in subduing these lands. The same ad- vance in your methods of tilling the soil as that in the manufacture of your maple sugar, will make the other branches of your rural industry as profitable in proportion.
Try it, fellow-townsmen. Instead of complaining of the meagre returns for your toil, and looking with longing eyes to other sec- tions of the country for your future homes, by intelligent and skill- ful industry make your present homes such as shall afford you all the comforts needed to satisfy a reasonable refinement of taste. Encourage your boys to stay at home, by making their homes pleasant and attractive. Educate them for a life of industry amid this beautiful scenery ; for intelligent farmers. Dignify your call- ing; and do not, by constantly complaining of the hard lot of the farmer, seek to make them dissatisfied with agricultural pursuits. I have been about the world somewhat, during these thirty years' absence from Acworth, and in positions to witness the opportuni- ties afforded by the different trades, professions and callings, for real enjoyment ; and the longer I live and the more I see, the more I am persuaded that, all things considered, no mode of life fur- nishes so great facilities for solid comfort and true happiness as a life upon a farm. I have never seen the place where one can get a living without work, industry and persistent endeavor. I have asked a good many people more or less given to complaining, to tell me if they knew of such a place ; but I have never heard of
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it, this side of our final home. Nor have I seen any place, or any position in life, in which temperance, frugality, industry and perse- verance ever fail to secure competence and comfort. They have done it for the people of this town in the past ; and they will do it in the years to come. God never intended that the labors of the fathers in subduing these hills, should be lost, or that the farms, on which so many of us were reared, be permitted-to be- come wastes. And I am persuaded that those who occupy them, and skillfully manage them, will be surer of prosperity, than if they leave them; to become adventurers in even more fertile parts of the country and the world.
While careful of these material interests, imitate the zeal of the fathers, in your care for good schools. Remember that there is the same room for improvement in them, as in all other things per- taining to human well-being. A school like that taught by Gen. Carey fifty years ago, though then thought to be nearly perfect, . will not answer present demands. Employ the best teachers, and avail yourselves of all the improvements that have been made in common school instruction, for the benefit of the children. Be liberal in all the expenditures that shall tend to the advancement of the moral and religious interests of this community. Keep the sacred fires of religion brightly burning in your homes and in your hearts ; and then, he who so abundantly blessed the fathers will as abundantly bless the children.
Friends and fellow-citizens : the events of this day will soon be over. From its festivities we shall soon return to our homes, so widely scattered and so far apart. Never again shall we all meet on the shores of time. Many of us have passed the meridian of life ; and the thin and scattering locks, silvered with the frosts of many autumns, admonish us that our day is advancing to its close. Our eyes begin to grow dim, and our steps have lost somewhat of their wonted elasticity. Something of sadness mingles with our rejoicings. These friendly greetings, with many, will be the last. Those of us who, because of filial obligation, have best kept up our acquaintance in our native place, will not long have these ties to draw our steps thitherward. Our visits will gradually, for a time, be less frequent ; and then, from advancing age and perhaps the palsying hand of disease, will cease forever. We cannot think, without a tear, of bidding a last adieu to these places, made so dear by the associations of our childhood.
But, while we shake the hands of our friends as we separate,
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smiles shall mingle with our tears. Though we know we may perhaps meet never again on life's shores, we are assured that we may all meet once more,
" Where forms unseen by mortal eye, Too glorious for our sight to bear, Are walking with their God on high, And waiting our arrival there."
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Poem.
ONE HUNDRED YEARS.
IF a man unskilled in the warrior's art- Yet, daring to act the general's part- Should lead men forth to deadliest battle, Midst clash of arms and the cannon's rattle ; If one most sadly non compos mentis, Not knowing of law what the intent is, And, in government, not understanding The art of ruling or of controlling, Should be placed, somehow, in the chair of state, To execute laws for the small and great ; Should one essay, on a great occasion, To please the crowd with a fine oration, Who had failed to learn, while he was young The mere a b abs of his mother tongue ; Ye would think each one in pitiful case In so far outstepping his proper place. So know ye well how to commisserate One like myself whom unpitying fate Hath failed to bless with poetical pate ; To whom it doth fall, with toil and with pains, To tune his voice to poetical strains. Ah ! how did I tremble, and fear, and shrink, To dip my poor pen in the poet's ink, As I heard Dame Fortune whisper, and say, " It is thine, Good Sir, on a coming day- Thine, I assure thee, to bear a new part, And try well thy skill in the poet's art ; Aye, when shall have come, on a joyful day, Men, women, and children, from every way, When, at a set timo, the native townsfolk, When, at a set time, beloved kinsfolk,
Milton Davidmor
THE NEW YORK PUBLIC LIBRARY
ASTOR, LENOX TILDEN FOUNDATION
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POEM: ONE HUNDRED YEARS.
Are truly well met from far and from near, To celebrate the centennial year Of a township's birth whose pure and good name Shows scarcely a blot to tarnish her fame ; When hands shall be given iu warmest greeting, The hearts of all in unison beating, At this great, this happy, family, meeting ; Then, know it is thine, to bear a new part, And try well thy skill in the poet's art." Ah ! how did I fear, and tremblingly ask, " Why ? why I essay this difficult task To make vain show of poetical lore ? Since, as oft as I would in days before, For a time quit Earth and her homely charms, To be borne aloft in fair Muse's arms, The ungen'rous Muse declining her aid Hath frowned on me, with a shake of the head, And from out her dark and her winsome eyes Hath cast on me looks of greatest surprise, Unconcealed, unmistakable, wonder, That I should make this singular blunder Of apeing the poet-stealing his thunder." But cometh the query, by day and by night, " How is it ? why is it that my poor mite .Can swell the joys of the great occasion ? The joys of the festal celebration ; For the Muse, to my prayers, hath ne'er gi'en heed, Nor will she, this hour of my sorest need. But ah ! I have it-the way-it is clear- Despair, I will not, no more will I fear, In slow moving prose, I will show my skill, In dull, slow moving prose, my part fulfill. And, yet, in order to make it appear To the unskilled, the uncritical ear, That, to the poet's tune, I'm keeping time, I'll clothe it all in the garb of rhyme. So, clothing my prose in a stolen dress, My thoughts, in rhythmic lines, I'll dare express." But, perplexities began to double, There came a new and a sorer trouble Of which matter troublous, I ne'er did dream, To make choice, it was, of the fittest theme. So, ran my thoughts about to hasten o'er The numerous themes in Memory's store ;
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But, ah ! midst all the stuff and rubbish, there, I could not find, with hours of search and care, The object of my ardent wish and prayer. Then walked I forth and took the open fields, To seek the aid which Nature sometimes yields, And as on I walked, I scarce knew whither, Hither sometimes tending, sometimes thither, I, yet, was troubled sore, perplexed, confused, I thought, and I pondered deep, studied, mused, So, pond'ring, wand'ring, wand'ring, pondering, Most slowly, idly, idly, wandering, Wandering slowly to a by retreat,
I sat me down on a mossy seat, And 'neath the shade of a shadowy tree, Fell to dreaming-dreaming as thou shalt see.
There stood before me, twelve winged steeds ! Just before me, twelve fiery steeds ! Twelve, fiery, foaming, prancing steeds ! These steeds were joined to a golden car ! A beautiful, gilded, golden, car ! Magnificent, shining, golden, car ! And, in the car, was an unknown form ! Just in the car, a singular form ! A singular, fearful, giant, form ! The form was like the species human ! Twas, yet, unlike the species human ! Yet, unlike either man or woman ! On a giant frame, did tower so high, So huge a caput, far towards the sky ! So large the shoulders ! and the arms so strong ! Hands, so thick and wide, and fingers so long ! The feet, withal, of such wonderful size ! I scarce could credit my astonished eyes ! Such a noble form ! intelligent face ! And, when he bowed, such dignified grace ! Such a knowing look ! such a piercing eye ! Forehead, so massive ! so broad and so high ! And, further, methought, such a dark stern brow ! The boldest before it must quail and bow ! Such signs of great might, in body and soul ! Signs of great wisdom, to direct, control ! Amazed, I exclaimed " Such wondrous nature Doth never appear in human creature !
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POEM: ONE HUNDRED YEARS.
" Tis Divine! the form is Divine!" I said, And turned to flee being sorely afraid. " Haste-haste not," he cried, " but dispel thy fears, The name that I bear is One Hundred Years, Aye, One Hundred Years is my rightful name, And mine, for my deeds, is infinite fame ; I was born, rightly reealling the date, Year seventeen hundred and sixty-eight ; The Universe broad is my native place, The Universe broad, my abiding place ; Though it is passing strange, I testify I had no infancy, no childhood, I, For, as broke from the shades of blackest night, The dawn of being on my wondering sight, The King Eternal of-this I am sure- Gave me all the powers of years mature, And, strange to recount, from that very day, On me conferred, unlimited sway, Full, unlimited sway for five-score years, O'er millions on millions of whirling spheres ; And, o'er all events, great, wonderful, small ; O'er the deeds of men, o'er their actions all ; Gave me coursers twelve and my royal car, To speed me to realms both near and afar. In faith, I have ruled, as 'twas given me, O'er countless globes, and on land and on sea ; But, the days of my years are almost gone, And my kingly work is now almost done, The sceptre of which I'm now possessor, I must soon give o'er to my successor, As took it, once, from my predecessor.
But, sure, I see, Observing thee, Thy looks do show That thou wouldst know What great events, Results immense, What deeds so small, As some would call No deeds, at all, I've caused to be, By my deerec,
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TIIE CENTENNIAL.
Or brought about, Year in, year out, And, easily, In century. 1
In many years, (Thus are my fears) I could not tell, Both right and well,
One millionth part,
Or billionth part,
Of my good deeds,
Of my misdeeds,
But, give thine ear,
And thou shalt hear,
Of deeds, a score,
Or less or more,
Which I have done,
And glory won.
I'll pass it by,
How truly I
Have caused the sun,
His course to run,
And ne'er to stray
From destined way ;
And, how I've kept,
While men have slept,
In its own place®
In boundless space,
Each orb so bright,
That shines by night With lovely light ; And how I've whirled
Each wand'ring world- Whirled each planet Through its orbit, Guiding, rightly, Daily, nightly, Orb terrestrial, Orbs celestial ; With no clashing, All swift dashing, Onward rushing, Their course to run Around the sun !
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POEM: ONE HUNDRED YEARS.
Perfect order ! No disorder ! I'll pass it by, Not mention, I, How, in my reign, Years ten times ten, Good Mother Earth Hath given birth ;
By my decree, To fully three Generations
Of all nations,
Tribes and races,
Clans and classes ;
How, by my leave,
For sin of Eve,
Grim Giant Death,
E'er stalking forth,
Hath frequent made
His visits sad,
To sturdy men,
Tender women,
Little children,
And, borne away,
By night, by day,
Exultingly,
Now fully three
Generations
Of all nations,
Tribes and races,
Clans and classes ;
How, 'tis reckoned,
In each second, At dark midnight,
In broad daylight, At eve or morn,
There hath been born,
A living soul,
For strife and toil ; How, 'tis reckoned, In each second, At dark midnight, In broad daylight, At eve or morn,
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THE CENTENNIAL.
A soul hath gone To that dread bourne Whence none return. I'll pass it o'er, How all things, sure, Have been fulfilled, That I had willed
Should come to be, On land and sea, On this planet, (Earth men call it)
Except, if thou
Dost wish me now,
I'll brief review
Acts just a few,
Deeds done by me,
On land, to thee
Ever dearest,
Loveliest, fairest,
That land, on Earth,
Which gave thee birth-
Called here and there,
Called everywhere
In Eastern World, " The Western World." Twould weary thee To follow me
To far off spheres,
Sun, moon, and stars ;
Twould weary thee
To follow me To every land,
To every strand, On this great orb, This mighty globe ;
I'll only tell- So listen well- What I did say To self, that day, On that day, when Began my reign O'er worlds and men What said I'd do, So long ago,
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POEM : ONE HUNDRED YEARS.
Do for the rise, And enterprise, Wealth, power, and fame, And glorious name, And honor, true, Of nation, new,
A people free, Whose name should be (Thus were the fates) United States ;
What customs, new,
Great changes, too, Should come to be, Through my decree,
On every hand,
In this fair land ; What I did say
As, on that day,
Year one thousand
Seventeen hundred
And sixty-eight,
(Mark well the date)
When (swift riding, My steeds guiding) .
I saw clearly
(Halting midway O'er the Atlantic)
England, frantic, Cursing, telling, How those dwelling
On Western soil
Had ceased to toil,
Would toil no more To swell her store ; Then, thoughts like these, Myself did please, Silent expressed To self addressed :-
'Old John Bull now looks over the water, With fiercest eye, on his wayward daughter, Aud he swears big oaths, before gods and men, That ere a twelvemonth shall come round again 7
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His offspring so stubborn, his child so wild, Must quit her proud pranks, turn peaceful and mild ; But she, rebellious, would break from his rule Preferring to learn at a diff'rent school." " Now," thought I, looking out on this scene " I'll deepen this grievous trouble, I ween, I'll keep it in the heart of fierce J. Bull, To hold his child under rigorous rule ; In the heart of the spirited daughter, To heed no edicts from 'cross the water, As the noblest plans, I now have in view, Touching this child o'er whom Johnny's so blue ; Though now she's young and seemingly feeble, She'll yet give birth to a mighty people, The fetters which now so closely bind her, And are daily, hourly, her reminder Of her abuses, her oppression, sore, Shall be broken, and that forevermore, And, oh ! the glad day come when she shall be, Of the nations chief, great, happy and free. But in a conflict sad, 'tis hers to bleed
E'er the stars and stripes shall be safe, indeed ; For I wish to show to cruel J. Bull, That he cannot have unlimited rule, And, too, I'd prove to the child abused, That she hath strength if she'll only use it ; Red-coats, I'll send to the Western shore, There'll be clash of arms, and the cannon's roar, Seven long dread years, I'll lead on the fight, Then say to her who has fought for the right :- " Lay aside thine arms ! fair child, thou art free ! Shout loud the pacan of glad victory ! Up with the banner ! fling it to the breeze ! Freedom I've brought thee ! sound it o'er the seas ! And Freedom, I pledge thee, whilst I am king ! Victory's song, thou shalt joyfully sing !
Both near and afar, let the welkin ring ! Thou shalt so bask in Prosperity's light, 'Neath skies that are commonly clear and bright, That thine shall be a sublimer career, Than was e'er foretold by prophet or seer ! Albeit, albeit, an adverse breeze May oft disturb thy political seas,
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POEM: ONE HUNDRED YEARS.
And thy proud thy glorious ship of state, Threaten to founder on the shoals of fate ; Albeit intriguing politician, Willing slave to unhallowed ambition, May pilot thy ship self only to please, Drifting anon into dangerous seas ; Albeit, the weapons of party strife, May oft and sadly imperil thy life, When contending parties for zeal or hate, Do strive to seize upon thy ship of state, Each swearing itself at the helm must stand, And her course direct with skillfulest hand ; Albeit, the Chirs, hot-bloods of the South, And the Yankees, dull slow-heads of the North, Thinking each other to sorely harass, Though, in houses dwelling, of brittle glass, May each upon the other hurl huge stones, Dismayed not by bruises and shattered bones, And may hurl such missiles and curse and rail, Till plain it is they must signally fail Thus, thus to end their wordy contention, Then with impious zeal, deadly intention, (Most sadly, strangely, mistaking each other) On battle-field meet, brother 'gainst brother, Son against father and father 'gainst son, The cruellest warfare that e'er was known ! Albeit, dark clouds envelop the skies, As the Black Man freed, grown suddenly wise, Shall with the White, take stand at the rudder, To guide the dear ship with his white face ". brudder," Highly elate as he goes to the polls, That the White, the Black no longer controls ; Albeit, thy ship as saileth along Shall be tossed thus roughly, piloted wrong She, yet preserved, shall her voyage pursue, Not once, in my day, capsizing her crew, And, thou, fair child, to thy joy and desire Bright laurels shalt wear, in spite of thy Sire."
' This nation,' I said, first day of my reign, ' Outgrowth shall be, of all races of men, All tribes and all classes that e'er were known, The red-faced native, and the foreign born,
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THE CENTENNIAL.
English so proud, and the witty Irish, French so polite, and the crafty Spanish, Norwegians tough, and the honest Scotch, And the luere-loving, beer-drinking Dutch, Italians refined, and hardy Russians, The Turks, the Swedes, and spirited Prussians, Good Belgians, too, and the pious Swiss, Those in Austria born, and those in Greece, Wandering Arabs, and the queud Chinese, Siberians, and the low Siamese, And Africans, ah ! a singular race, With pearly-white teeth and coal black face. And tribes and races many more, Shall, sure, send out from native shore, Across the rough and billowy sea, To this fair land so good and free, Brave men and women, children, too, With just this purpose, just this view, That there in peace and harmony, They may enjoy dear liberty, And for the toils, they may endure, E'er reap rewards both large and sure."
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