USA > New Hampshire > Hillsborough County > Bedford > History of Bedford, New-Hampshire, being statistics, compiled on the occasion of the one hundredth anniversary of the incorporation of the town; May 19th, 1850 > Part 7
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* Judge Potter differs from some others as to the etymology. They make it read ' Sturgeon.'-[ See Allen's Centennial Address, Merrimack. ]
The Judge is probably correct, however, as the Indian word meaning Stur- geon is Kopposh, which word has no sound in common with Merrimack .- Ed.
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(place) and meaning, The place of the Great Spirit. Then a little to the North, rises the beautiful mountains, the Unca- noonucks, or Wunnunnoogunash, as the word should be written. This word is formed from the two words, Wun- nunnoogun (a breast) and nash, the termination, denoting the plural of inanimate nouns, as before suggested, and means The Breasts, a name strikingly appropriate, as every one will testify who shall gaze upon these beautiful speci- mens in our mountain scenery.
" But, Mr. President, pardon this digression, I could not fail- to notice these beautiful Indian names, appropriated to natural objects so intimately connected with your town, as specimens of the Indian language ; a language, permit me to say, natural, poetical, philosophical, and euphonious.
" But, Mr. President, before I close, I wish to set history right as to one subject that has been much talked of here to- day. The original charters of this town have been exhibited and read. One from Massachusetts, in 1733, granting this township by the name of Souhegan East and one from New Hampshire, in 1750, incorporating the township by the name of Bedford. These charters have been shown and are claimed, as the first grants of the lands in this ancient town- ship. This is a mistake. Almost a century prior to these grants, the legislature of Massachusetts made a grant of a portion of these very lands to the Bashaba, Passaconnaway: In 1662, Passaconnaway presented a petition to the legislature of Massachusetts, praying for a grant of lands at Amoskeag. The original petition is preserved in the archives of Massa- chusetts. The signature to this petition is written thus : Papisseconeway. How humiliating, that this old and once powerful Prince, the rightful owner of all this domain, should be compelled to ask a portion of his birthright, from men who had no more right to the land, than the pirate or the robber has to his plunder.
" The following year, the humble petition of King Passa- connaway is listened to, and in the very great liberality of the legislature of Massachusetts, three miles in length on either side of the river, of the Sagamore's own land, is granted him ! This land was located above Brenton's land and included the North parts of Litchfield and Merrimack and the South parts of Manchester and Bedford bordering upon the Merrimack. This was the fishing and planting place of
10
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the Bashaba, Passaconnaway. Here lived his descendants till the progress of civilization swept them from the land. 'The hearths of their wigwams are still shown upon your intervales, and there the collection of little mounds show that the bones of many of them are commingling with their native earth. Mr. President, I present the claim of Passa- connaway and his people. I do not propose to sue out a writ of ejectment against you or my friends, Messrs. Chand- ler, Patten, Walker, and others, to dispossess you of your fine farms ; but I present their claim for justice to their memo- ries ; this I know you will be most happy to accord. At least, you will be pleased
" That their memory liveth on your hills, Their baptism on your shore ; Your everlasting rivers speak Their dialect of yore.
' That Monadnock on his forehead hoar, Doth seal the sacred trust ; Your mountains build their monuments, Though ye give the winds their dust.'
"Mr. President, Ladies and Gentlemen, I close with this sen- timent,-The Pennacook Indians *- Our farms occupy their hunting and planting grounds ; our villages and cities, the sites of their wigwams ; our factories, their fishing places,- we inherit their birthright without even a mess of pottage ; may we do tardy justice to their memories, by according to them those virtues our forefathers were unwilling to acknowl- edge."
The shining lights and worthies of Bedford, past and present, were celebrated in the following " Metrical Rhapso- dy," written for the occasion by George Kent, Esq., of Bos- ton, and read by the Rev. J. T. Woodbury, of Acton, Mass :
* This tribe of Indians, inhabiting the Merrimack intervales and fishing grounds, from Lowell (formerly Pawtucket, or the 'forks') to Concord, (formerly Pennacook) was a warlike and powerful tribe. They had forts at Pawtucket and at Pennacook, and repulsed the dreaded Mohawks in a battle at the latter place. The tribe took its name from ' Pennacook,' which means the crooked place, being derived from the Indian words Pannikqua, (crooked) and auke, (place.) Any one acquainted with the remarkable windings of the Merrimack, through the intervales of Concord, will at once see the appropri- ateness of the name.
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A hundred years ! what hopes and fears Are crowded in its pages - What scenes to thrill, of good or ill, In glancing down the ages ! Than Scottish stock, not Plymouth Rock Can boast of nobler scions - Whose mixture good, of Irish blood, Speaks true Scotch-Irish " lions."
Not lions they, which, in our day, Might pass for " just the dandy "- But stern old stuff, in aspect rough, Yet always shrewd and handy. From Ulster's coast, a valiant host, They cross'd the deep blue waters, And refuge found, on Yankee ground - Sires, mothers, sons and daughters.
In faith severe, they lov'd good cheer - In mien sedate, were merry - Their jokes to crack were never slack, When settled down in Derry. As true off-shoots of Nutfield roots, Our homestead branch was planted - In Bedford's name, of honor'd fame, Our charter'd town was granted.
Hither our Macs had made their tracks, Our Orrs, and Goffes and Pattens - Their house-wives, too, of good " true blue," Undeck'd with silks or satins, No taste had they for fine display, Or modern street-yarn spinning - Their handiwork - with them no shirk - Was making finest linen.
But not alone is raiment shown, As proof of skill well noted - In lesser arts they bore their parts, To industry devoted. Viands well cooked are not o'erlooked, In summing up their story - Haggis and Brose, in days like those, Spoke well the housewife's glory.
Our " men folks," too, were tough as yew, To honest thrift attending - Year in and out, with labor stout, Fit recreation blending. To Derry Fair, both late and air, Our quota full would muster, There once a year, with hearty cheer, Where kith and kin might cluster.
Not men on stilts - but clad in kilts, Scotch bonnets, and the tartan - Whose courage tried was well allied To bravery of the Spartan.
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But deeds of blood were not their mood, Or scenes of rude commotion - Wrestle and race found best a place To " kittle up their notion."
Brave, stalwart men, Souhegan's glen Could boast from earliest founding - Our country's rolls, which proves men's souls, Show ardent zeal unbounding. ORR's honor'd scars, which bloodier wars Might fail to more than rival, Did but attest the patriot zest With which were found to strive all.
With many a Riddle, no " second fiddle " We play'd to towns around us - While with More head, it might be said, Some years have always found us. Aiken to Burns, allied by turns To Moors, and Woods and Walkers - With Barrons bold, as may be told, Though Little known as talkers.
Our Bells could sound a note profound, If Call'd well to the duty - Fitly our Barnes can spin his yarns, In measure just to suit ye. Smith, ancient name, well known to fame, Vose, Gordon, Chandler, Taggart, Wallace and Dole, all swell the roll - In which we are no braggart.
We had our Craig, and many a Sprague, And Rand, a painter noted - Could find a Page for many a Gage, 'Mongst others we have quoted. Nevins and Barr were also " thar," With now and then a Parker - The town could boast of quite a host, If any would remark her.
Old " Strawberry Hill " had quite a fill, And " Squog " was not found wanting - And "Joppa " west could show its best, With proper ground of vaunting. Not to o'erlook Foster, Holbrook, Or fail where proud to show man - We well may claim, of legal fame, 'Squire Wilkins and 'Squire Bowman.
The Pulpit, too, has had a few - Though not in number mickle - Dispensing truth to age and youth, Since days of Father Pickle. Memory will claim Mc Gregor's name, And Houston's, from time's ravage - While love can still, with right good will, Turn trustingly to Savage.
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A further store in Swett, Gilmore, French, Woodbury, and Colley, We might recount, to large amount - But more to add were folly. At home, abroad, we're on record In states throughout the Union -
If proved by works, no quips or quirps Will bar us full communion.
Then hail the day, whose natal ray Lights up our happy faces ! To freedom true we pledge our due, Throughout all times and places. To friends still dear we send good cheer, However wide their roaming -
In each full heart they'll find a part, At every evening gloaming.
The President then announced the eleventh regular toast -
The Ladies of Bedford, - Ever prompt and energetic in every undertaking of a worthy and commendable character.
JAMES O. ADAMS, of Manchester, spoke in response to this sentiment.
" This, Mr. President, is not according to the programme, it is not quite the entertainment we anticipated. I came here, upon the invitation of your committee, to be a looker on and a listener, that I might make a record of the exercises of the day ; not once expecting to be called on to unseal my lips. You, and your fellow-citizens, have left your common vocations, have laid aside all party feelings and sectional interests, and assembled here to pay the tribute of grateful re- membrance to your ancestors, to give to each other and the world the assurance that your fathers' mantles and your fathers' spirit have descended to their children, and that you will, this hour, kindle anew the fires of patriotism upon the altar of your hearts. You have met as the members of one house- hold to revive your love for the homes of your youth and your veneration for the silent dead, whose virtues were not entombed with their ashes. It is a family gathering, and no strange voices should be mingled with the familiar words uttered here to day.
" But, Mr. President, if I am an 'outsider' and have no right by birth, residence, or domestic relation of any kind, to be a participator in this celebration, I am happy to say, that I am not a stranger to the subject of the sentiment upon which
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you have taken the liberty to call me up. The merits of the Ladies of Bedford, whether they be called to perform the duties of the kitchen, or to adorn the parlor, whether they give instruction in the school-room or administer charity to the poor, cannot fail to be acknowledged. It has been my good fortune often to meet with them, here at their rural homes, and in their new residences, in our busy city across the river, and I should be unpardonable did I not confess the truth of the sentiment. We are accustomed to regard man as the only rightful possessor of greatness, and to award to him all the glory and heroism, though in her retirement, where the eye of the world may not behold her, woman may endure and accomplish tenfold more for the good of humanity. The greatness of benevolence is her boon, her empire is that of the heart. It is for her to bear joy and consolation to those around her -to spread peace and happiness around her dwell- ing. She may not be seen abroad, except by her works of love - her name may not be recorded on the page of the world's great achievements, and she may go down to her grave, with none living to breathe her praise but the hearts of her home and the friends of her little hamlet ; but above the priase of human lips, greater than the honor which time can give, nobler than the recompense of heroes, will be her reward."
SONG.
Written for the occasion by a young Lady.
Old Bedford may boast of her farmers, mechanics, Her doctors, her lawyers, her ministers too, In purpose unshaken as pillars of granite, Right onward their course is, with strength ever new.
Pass on ! sons of Bedford, press on in your glory ; Pass on ! deck your brows with the bright wreaths of fame, Generations, unborn, will rejoice at your story, For History just waits now to take down each name.
Pass on ! sons of Bedford, pass on in your greatness, True greatness, the offspring of goodness and truth ;
" Pass on," is the watch-word, let none plead the lateness, Let none linger listless, because of his youth.
Pass onward, rise upward, the prize is appearing, The goal is in sight now, press forward ye brave, Secure the bright gem in the prospect that 's nearing, And honor immortal shall rest o'er each grave.
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VOLUNTEER SENTIMENTS.
[Several volunteer sentiments were given to the President, and many others were ready to be given, had time permitted. We have been able to collect a few for publication.]
BY HON . THOMAS CHANDLER .- " May the inhabitants of Bedford present to the second centennial a more full genealogical, chronological, and histori- cal table than the first centennial can give to the second."
BY CAPT. WILLIAM PATTEN .- " The Inhabitants of Bedford. - When they celebrate the second centennial day, may they look back with pleasure on us who celebrate the first, while we hope to be celebrating the praises of God, eternal in the heavens."
BY ADAM CHANDLER, ESQ .- " The 22d May, 1850 .- A day ever to be remembered by those present, inasmuch as it calls to our minds in a most striking and vivid view, the feelings, principles and integrity of purpose, which governed our ancestors a hundred years ago."
BY MR. JAMES F. MOORE .- " Our Fathers .- Dear to us in life, sacred to our memories in death ; while we venerate their names, and cherish their virtues, may we also emulate their christian examples."
BY JAMES WALKER, ESQ .- " The Ladies of Bedford .- Like their an- cestor mothers, industrious, modest and generous, - ready to feed the hungry and clothe the naked, - well may we rise up and call them blessed."
SONG.
Here prowled the wolf, the hunter roved, The red man sang the song he loved, Resolved and firm he stood unmoved, Nor dreamed of future woe ; These broad green lands, from east to west From north to south, he once possessed, Nor was the savage all unblessed A hundred years ago.
" Alas ! for them, their reign is o'er, Their fires are out on hill and shore, The wild deer bounds for them no more," A broken thing, their bow. The white-man's plough turns up their grounds, And through their woods his axe resounds, Beside their rills the lambkin bounds ; Shall we exult ? no ! no !
We turn us to the pilgrim's cause ; We venerate its sacred laws, 'T is one that's gained high Heaven's applause, Doth Heaven's inscription bear.
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Ah ! would we, if we could, forget, To whom we owe a sacred debt ? No ! never, we 'll revere them yet, Those names to memory dear.
'T was here our noble fathers strayed, 'T was here they worshipped, here they prayed, And here their mould'ring forms are laid ; O ! peaceful be their rest ! You scarce perceive the rising mound, Yet each is consecrated ground, By each, devotion lingers round ; Blest be their ashes, - blest.
And now the heritage is ours, This goodly land, these sunny bowers, These hills and valleys, fruits and flowers, The flocks and waving grain ; The stately, towering forest tree, The noble waters, sporting free ; All, all the beauty eye can see, In this, our wide domain.
" OUR FATHER'S HOME."
[These verses will be read with interest by one who should visit the ' Old Grave Yard' in the east part of Bedford.]
Stranger ! step lightly on the dead, That slumber 'neath the clod, The place where lies the pilgrim's head Now present with his God.
Look round thee - view the sunken grave, The tomb-stone drooping low, The vestige of departed brave, One hundred years ago.
How silent all around thee stand ; Death's stillness reigns around, No inmate here can burst the bands Until the trumpet sounds.
Lone wanderers, of a hundred years, They calmly, sweetly sleep - Shed not thy warm and bathing tears, For they can never weep.
Lock'd in death's cold and last embrace, Though flow'rs above may bloom, Their form has left not e'en a trace, These inmates of the tomb.
But surely, this is not their end --- Let's look beyond the gloom, There, smiles and roses sweetly blend, That is, that is, their home.
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HYMN.
Tune, - America.
God of our fathers! Thou Wilt deign to bless us now, While here we wait ; Fathers who 've passed away, Their noble deeds to-day With grateful hearts we may Commemorate.
Thanks be to God alone That them he made his own Peculiar care : Them, who with prayer and might Sought freedom, truth and right, And left its glorious light For us to share.
They every danger dared, They every trial shared, And murmured not ; Our pleasant homes so dear, To them looked dark and drear, And, by their sufferings here, Were dearly bought.
Great God ! thy gracious hand Upheld the Pilgrim band, When sorely tried ; Thou didst our fathers bless, May we thine aid possess, In works of righteousness Be thou our guide.
When circling years have fled, And numbered with the dead, The hosts around : When children's children fill Our place o'er vale and hill, O may Thy blessing still With them abound.
SONG.
We love our town, our good old town, We fear no rude oppressor ; To-day, her hundredth birth-day is, And many come to bless her.
'T is true, ours is a sterile soil, A land of hills and granite ; Yet plenty crowns the social board, Our peace, there's none can scan it. 11
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We love her hills, her rugged hills, Which flocks and herds are crowning ; Her rural shade, her merry rills, Her stately forests frowning.
We cull the flowers, that sweetly bloom Beside her peaceful fountains, Loading the air with scent more pure Than currents from the mountains.
Though noble are her forest trees, And beautiful her waters, More noble are her gallant sons, More beautiful her daughters.
We contemplate the present good, With heartfelt joy and gladness ; But when we muse upon the past, Our joy partakes of sadness.
The church-yard yonder, "cold and drear," Can tell the mournful story ; Our fathers now are sleeping there, Remain, their deeds of glory.
There moulder, too, our youthful ones, To them our tears are given, Transplanted were those flowers from earth, To bloom more sweet in Heaven.
The following letters were received, from distinguished individuals, by the Committee on Invitations in answer to an invitation to be present and unite with us on this occasion. The Committee deem it expedient to insert them verbatim.
PETER P. WOODBURY, THOMAS, SAVAGE, Committee.
WILLIAM PATTEN,
Washington City, May 6th, 1850.
Gentlemen : - I have just received your polite invitation to attend the coming Centennial Celebration of the Town of Bedford, on the 22d. inst. Few things would be more grati- fying than to accept this invitation, but the pressure of my official duties here, till after that date, must prevent it.
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Well may the sons of such Fathers, as first settled the county of Hillsborough, celebrate the event with grateful hearts. They were a hardy race, accustomed to dangers, enured to toil and devoted to civil and religious liberty. But what distinguished them from almost every free people, who preceded them and their co-patriots in planting civiliza- tion in the wilderness, was their wonderful foresight as to the means necessary to preserve no less than build up liberty. They soon saw that education and religion, widely diffused among them, could alone be relied on permanently for these great purposes. The village school-house and the village church, therefore, soon became the ornament of every settle- ment and have served to nurse luxuriantly all the free princi- ples and free institutions which have ever since distinguished the county, where I am proud to have been born.
In whatever quarter of the globe man may be maddened by oppression to break his chains, he must remember, that to remain long free from them, intelligence must be cultivated among the people so as to know the true extent both of their rights and duties, and religion be disseminated with all her sacred sanctions, so as to make all respect what is right in others and uphold the laws and the order of society.
May the town of Bedford see many more Centennials, distinguished like this, by these rich blessings.
Respectfully,
LEVI WOODBURY.
Rutland, Vt., May 17th, 1850.
Dear Sir, - The invitation of your Committee to the Centennial Celebration of the settlement of Bedford, next week, has been duly received, and for the favor please accept my thanks. I have anticipated much happiness in being present on the occasion, and reviving my pleasant remem- brances of my native town. All my associations with Bed- ford, both the place and the people, are delightful. Nothing ever occurred to mar them. There I passed the sunny days of my childhood and youth. There dwelt my nearest kindred and many whom I have ever regarded as friends ; and I cannot give a truer utterance of my wishes for the town, than by saying, " Peace and prosperity be within thee."
I regret to say, that imperative duties will prevent my attendance. The distance, though considerable, would not
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stand in the way, if other circumstances did not forbid. As it is, my best wishes shall be with you. The occasion, I doubt not, will be alike interesting and instructive. And while many, especially of the fathers, whom I once respected and revered, will not be present, I rejoice to believe that their places are occupied by others who are acting well their parts for the good of the church and of mankind.
Accept the assurance of my heartfelt interest in the welfare of your Committee, personally, and of all the good people of Bedford. May their sun not go down, neither their moon withdraw itself. May they be as the house of David, which waxed stronger and stronger.
With kindest regards,
I am very truly and respectfully yours,
S. AIKEN.
Amherst, N. H., May 13th, 1850.
Gentlemen : - I am honored with your invitation to attend the Centennial Celebration, at Bedford, on the 22d inst. ; but the frosts of seventy seven years cautions me in language, not to be misunderstood, to avoid the excitement and fatigue attendant on such meetings. These town celebra- tions, especially where they go back to the first inroads made upon the forest by civilized man, have ever been peculiarly interesting to me. I love to hear from their small beginnings, their progress in population, in agriculture, in wealth and literature. I love to recur to the hardships and self denial with which the early settlers had to struggle, and compare these conflicts and privations, with the ease, comforts, conveniences and resources of those who succeeded them. These things in a town like Bedford, distinguished as she now is, in her husbandry, in her schools, in the respectable and substantial character of her yeomanry, in her wealth and general im- provement, impart an animating and instructive lesson to posterity.
It is to be hoped that some scholar, and I know none more fit than the orator you have selected, will undertake the task of writing and publishing a minute history of the town, from the clearing the first field within its limits, to its present high state of improvement, from the planting of the acorn to
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the oak in its full maturity and wide spread dimensions, giv- ing also a concise account of the worthies and distinguished men of the town, who have been gathered to their fathers. Such a history, I am confident would be well received by the public, and amply remunerate its author. If your celebra- tion shall have no other effect, than to produce such a result, it will not have been in vain, but positively useful.
I am, Gentlemen, with great respect for the inhabitants of Bedford, and for you their Committee,
Your obedient servant,
C. H. ATHERTON.
Detroit, May 16th, 1850.
Gentlemen : - I regret exceedingly my inability to accept your kind invitation to be present at your Centennial Cele- bration of the settlement of the good old town of Bedford. It would have afforded me great pleasure to meet my old friends upon that occasion, but circumstances beyond my own control will prevent. The ashes of the dead as well as the loved faces of the living, attract me strongly to my native town, and that attachment I find increasing each day of my life. Permit me, in conclusion, to offer -" The Town of Bedford, -may her descendants (widely scattered through the land,) never dishonor their paternity."
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