USA > New Hampshire > Hillsborough County > Manchester > Semi-centennial of the city of Manchester, New Hampshire, 1896 > Part 7
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1. Music, Germania Band, 30 pieces, of Boston.
2. Introduction of President of the Day by Mayor Clarke.
3. Address, President of the Day Charles H. Bartlett.
4. Prayer, Rev. Nathaniel L. Colby, of the Merrimack-street Baptist church.
5. Hymn, Rev. B. W. Lockhart, D. D .; music composed by Mr. E. T. Baldwin, sung by Rossini Quartet.
6. Poem, Rev. Allen Eastman Cross.
7. Music, Germania Band.
8. Oration, Hon. Henry E. Burnham.
9. Singing of "America," quartet and audience.
10. Prayer and benediction, Rt. Rev. D. M. Bradley, Bishop of Manchester.
The anniversary day proper was ushered in by a salute of fifty guns, fired in Derryfield park by a detachment of the First Light Battery, Capt. S. S. Piper in command.
A very large audience assembled in the tent, the old residents having seats reserved in the center. Upon the platform were seated Mayor Clarke, ex-Gov. Moody Currier, ex-Gov. P. C. Cheney, Hon. Henry E. Burnham, Hon. Charles H. Bartlett, Rev. Allen E. Cross, Rt. Rev. D. M. Bradley, Rev. B. W. Lockhart, Rev. N. L. Colby, Hon. David Cross, Hon. Isaac W. Smith. Rev. W. II. Morrison, Hon. Alpheus Gay, George I. McAllister, John Dowst, Hon. Joseph Kidder. Rev. Thomas Borden, Secretary Herbert W. Eastman. Mayor David L. Parker. A. P. Smith, George E. Briggs, H. S. Hutchinson, and George S. Fox of New Bedford, Mass., Rev. John W. Ray of Minneapolis, Minn.
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HON. CHARLES H. BARTLETT.
PRESIDENT OF THE DAY, TUESDAY, SEPT. 8.
CHAIRMAN OF FINANCE COMMITTEE.
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LITERARY EXERCISES.
After a selection by the band, His Honor Mayor Clarke called the vast audience to order and said:
Fellow Citizens :- We have today reached the anniversary day proper of this Semi- Centennial celebration. Fifty years ago today Manchester was born a city. If you were awake early this morning you heard the cannon booming on the heights of Derryfield park, and reverberating along the western hills. Yesterday you saw the finest procession ever known in New Hampshire pass up Elm street, and to the reviewing stand. Today our public squares have been alive with sports and pastimes, and in another part of the city the best drilled cavalry company in the world has been enter- taining thousands. Our city is wearing her brightest and best holiday garb, and in all quarters our people are extending an hospitable greeting to visiting friends. Manchester never looked fairer or better than she does today. But while rejoicing in all that is delightful and attractive to the eye, we must not forget that an oeeasion of this char- acter has a deeper and higher meaning to the past, present, and future than mere holi- day sights and jubilation. There is associated with this anniversary an educational lesson of intrinsic value that we hope to see perpetuated. The story of Manchester for fifty years will be told to you this afternoon in words of eloquence and grace, in prose and poetry, by our own citizens, for there has been but one thought in the minds of the general committee sinee the inception of this anniversary, and that was to make it distinctively a Manchester affair. And so, my friends, I esteem it a high honor to introduce to you as the president of the day our honored fellow townsman, the Hon. Charles H. Bartlett.
In assuming the duties of presiding officer, President of the Day Bartlett made the following address:
Fellow Citizens :- The city of Manchester halts today at the first Semi-Centennial milestone in the pathway of her municipal career; swings wide her gates; calls home her absent sons and daughters, and welcomes alike kindred, guest, and stranger to her heart and hearthstone.
Following a custom widely honored by distinguished observance, we assemble here in vast concourse, upon our city's fiftieth anniversary, to commemorate the event in a manner befitting so notable an occasion, and to give some expression to that pardonable pride with which we contemplate her past; to the satisfaction we find in the present, and to the high hope and expectation which we cherish for her future.
First of all we welcome here today the old guard of Manchester, the survivors of the ten thousand who, fifty years ago this hour, committed the little Queen City to the winds and waves on the sea of time with their prayers and their blessings.
Most of you have remained upon deck till this hour, sharers of her good fortune and enriched by her prosperity. Those who have followed the bent of stronger inclina- tions for other fields of enterprise, and elsewhere have waged life's battle, we have held in our hearts and memories not as lost but strayed, and for them the beacon fires yet glow upon our hilltops, and the lamp lingers in the window still.
To all of you, the infant city is a matter of precious memory; to us of later adoption or birth, of tradition only; but, whether memory or tradition, it thrills our hearts with all the patriotic ardor and enthusiasm of which the loyal citizen is capable.
You have seen the town of modest dimensions expand into a city of more than fifty-five thousand inhabitants; its industries and material development keeping pace with its growth in population, with the church, the schoolhouse, and every character- istic of the best and highest type of civilization known on earth, ever advancing on the crest of the onward wave.
I congratulate you, speaking not only for the vast multitude here assembled, but for all our people, whether within or without these walls, upon the extreme felicity which
ELM STREET, MANCHESTER .- LOOKING NORTH.
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LITERARY EXERCISES.
this hour must bring to you, and we pray that the cold finger suspended above us all, whose icy touch dissolves humanity, may yet long graciously pass you by; that your eyes may yet behold other and still greater achievements, which we trust and believe are catalogued for the near future upon which we are rapidly advancing.
I must not fail, at the very threshold of these exercises today, to express Manches- ter's deep and profound obligation to the various organizations from without our borders, which have kindly, generously, and patriotically joined with us in making these days of commemoration notable and distinguished beyond all others on our red- letter calendar.
Especially to the National Guard of New Hampshire,-the conservator of our peace and our shield and defense in war,-to the many civic and fraternal bodies, whose noble tenets and sublime teachings have done so much to ennoble and elevate mankind; to the detachment from the military force of our country, whose skill, dexterity, and efficiency so excites the admiration and wonderment of all beholders,-do we tender our most profound and heartfelt acknowledgments.
Without their co-operation, even the forces that have wrought out this triumph in city building could not so successfully and appropriately have celebrated the work of the builders.
To her own citizens, who, in these unpropitious times, by their contributions, or by patient and unselfish labor in preparation for active participation in these commem- orative ceremonies, through her own various and distinguished organizations, have made this demonstration possible, Manchester owes a debt of gratitude which will never fail to receive just and merited recognition.
As citizens of Manchester, we rejoice in this opportunity to show to those not familiar with her characteristics, the city we love and honor, and the reasons for our affection and loyalty. We flatter ourselves that you who have heretofore only heard of her and read of her have not known her at her best. To be so known she must be seen. She speaks to the eye more convincingly than any words can paint her to the understanding. We ask you not only to inspect her industries, but to consider her - residential attractions also; to contemplate not only the facilities here afforded for the accumulation of wealth by honest labor and business enterprise, but the opportunities for its enjoyment as well. We all understand the modern tendency of the people in all civilized countries, so far as consistent with the nature of occupation, to congregate at centers of population, where concert of action and co-operation of individual effort are attainable. It is thus that the facilities for supplying the wants of a higher civilization are secured with the greatest economy of effort and at the minimum cost.
You are assembled today at one of these populous centers, with opportunities and possibilities for expansion without limit. The keen eye of the adventurous pioneer quickly caught the advantage of the situation and forecast the coming city. Today we exhibit the result of the first half century of Manchester's development. This is not completion, but beginning only. When we contemplate that only a few years hence one half of the population of this great country will dwell and toil within city limits. we come to appreciate the vast importance of the conditions of city life, and their potency in the determination of national destiny.
We enter today upon the second half of our first century. We spread to the world a clean bill of health, and all the elements of a vigorous, prosperous, and successful municipal career. Whatever the future may have in store for us, posterity will not say that any ill came to them through bad beginning. This house was not built upon the sand. Its foundations are broad and deep and strong. The winds may come and storms beat upon it, but it will stand. It will not fall through any fault of the founders.
This much it has seemed to me appropriate that I should say for Manchester. Another will speak of her, and from that greater attraction of the day's program you will be but little longer detained.
REV. B. W. LOCKHART, D. D.
E. T. BALDWIN.
THE ROSSINI QUARTET.
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LITERARY EXERCISES.
Rev. N. L. Colby, pastor of the Merrimack-street Baptist church since June, 1879, the senior resident pastor of the city, made a very feeling prayer.
The hymn composed by Rev. B. W. Lockhart, set to music by Mr. E. T. Bald- win, was then sung by the Rossini Quartet: Mrs. Zilla McQuesten Waters, Mrs. Frank P. Cheney, Mrs. Annie E. Gordon, Mrs. Frank H. Puffer.
SEMI-CENTENNIAL HYMN.
Queen city of the Granite State, Great be thy soul as thou art great! Thy nurturing hills sweep round thee free, Thy river floweth to the sea.
The ramparts of the Lord thy God Guard thee by day and night unawed; Their purple banners high unfurled Greet each new morning of thy world.
Great God! we lift this hymn of praise To thee who measurest out our days, The Lord of all that live and die, At whose command the centuries fly.
For fifty proud triumphant years, For wealth that cost nor blood nor tears, For the high hopes that kept us young, For noble griefs that made us strong;
For peace that brooded like a dove. For household plenty, joy, and love, For freedom, won in glorious strife, For life that cost our best of life;
For old heroic memories Borne to us from the distant days, And for our holy quiet graves Where the wind whispers in the leaves;
For greater hopes that lead us on, For splendid dreams of days to come, When purer faith and truer creeds Shall blossom into kindlier deeds;
For these we lift this hymn of praise To Thee who measurest out our days, The Lord of all that live and die, At whose command the centuries fly.
Queen city of the Granite State. Great be thy soul as thou art great! Thy nurturing hills sweep round thee free, Thy river floweth to the sea.
Rev. Allen E. Cross of Springfield, Mass., son of Hon. David Cross, read the poem, "At the Falls of Namoskeag."
"AT THE FALLS OF NAMOSKEAG,"
AT THE FALLS OF NAMOSKEAG.
ALLEN EASTMAN CROSS.
[When Samuel Blodget predicted that ancient Derryfield was one day "destined to become the Manchester of America," he stood by the falls of Amoskeag. There was the power that made possible a great manufacturing city. It has seemed to me that there was no theme more vital to the growth of the city of Manchester, or more poetic in its suggestiveness, than these same falls. I have, therefore, woven their legend and history into verse, calling them by their former Indian name, the Falls of Namoskeag.]
Three souls shall meet in our gracious river, The soul of the mountains, stanch and free, The soul of the Indian "Lake of the Spirit," And the infinite soul of the shining sea.
One hath its birth by the granite mountain, Where a mighty face looks out alone,
Across the world and adown the ages, Like the face of the Christ in the living stone.
One flows from the water of Winnipesaukee, Bearing ever where it may glide, As the Indians named that beautiful water, "The smile of the Spirit" upon its tide.
And the soul of the sea is at Little Harbor Or Strawberry Bank of the olden time, Where first DeMonts and his dreaming voyageurs Sailed in quest of a golden clime.
'Tis said that Power is the soul of our river, Plunging down from the gulfs and glooms Of its mountain valleys to fall in splendor, Or drive the belts of the myriad looms.
To some the soul of the stream is Beauty, That pours from its beautiful lake above In silver ripples and golden eddies,
Like the seer's stream from the throne of love.
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SEMI-CENTENNIAL OF MANCHESTER, N. H.
And once, to this stream with its double burden, There came a soul akin to his own; The heart of the river was in his preaching; The voice of the ripples was in his tone;
And he stood by the falls in the golden weather, Under the elm leaves, mirrored brown
In the pictured waters, and told his hearers How the Heart of the stars and the stream came down,
As a little child to a mother's bosom, With a wonder at hatred in his eyes, And an image of peace from the one Great Spirit Like the light in the stream from the glowing skies.
And e'en while he spake, as the stream in its flowing Takes tints of the twilight and jeweled gleams Of the oak and maple, on Eliot's spirit Lay heavenly visions and starry dreams,
And with only the chant of the falls in the silence, While the nets and the spears uncared for lay, Again as -of old the Christ was standing By the lodges of Passaconaway.
An hundred times had the glistening salmon Flashed in the falls since that sunset hour; An hundred times had the black ducks flying Followed the stream; and the Spirit of Power
That sleeps in the river, still waited to welcome A heart like its own to reveal again, As Eliot uttered its beautiful spirit, Its soul of power to the souls of men.
The wands of the willow are deeper amber, The coral buds of the maple bloom; The alders redden, the wind flowers blossom, And sunshine follows the winter's gloom.
The smile of the spirit is still on the waters, . The chime on the stones of the Namoskeag fall, But the soul of the hills as it leaps to the ocean To freedom and valor seems to call.
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AT THE FALLS OF NAMOSKEAG.
At the door of his mill, by the swirl of the rapids, Feeling the spirit that subtly thrills, From the spray of the falls like an exhalation, Is resting our hero of the hills.
He had won the name when he ran the gauntlet, Bursting the Indian lincs in twain, Or made his foray to save his comrades Through the frozen forests of far Champlain.
Now the swish of the saw and the creak of the timber, And the swirl of the rapids alone he heard, When sudden-a clatter of hoofs down the river- A horseman, a shout, and the rallying word
Of yesterday's fighting by Concord river, Of the blood on the green of Lexington- That was all! yet the mill gate fell, and the miller, Left the saw to rust in the cut, and was gone.
'Twas the word of the Lord through the Merrimack valley, From Derryfield down to Pawtucket's fall, That rang from his lips, to rise and to follow, As the leader thundered his rallying call.
'Twas the sword of the Lord from the leader's scabbard That flashed in defiance of British wrong, As the rallying farmers galloped after Riding to Medford a thousand strong.
A golden cycle of years has vanished Since the Derryfield minute-man left his mill To lead the patriots down the valley To "the old rail fence" on Bunker Hill.
The years flow on and sweep in their flowing Legend and life to the infinite sea- A city stands by the grave of the hero, Where the lodges and camps were wont to be.
Unchanged and changeless flows the river, But blended now with its ceaseless chime Is the rhythmic beating of mighty hammers, And a hum like the bees in summer time.
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REV. ALLEN E. CROSS.
""T'is said that Power is the soul of our river, plunging down from the gulfs and glooms Of its mountain valleys to fall in splendor, or drive the belts of the myriad looms."
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AT THE FALLS OF NAMOSKEAG.
But the hum of the looms and the clank of the hammers Will hush to the chime of the Sabbath bells,
While the soul of the stream from the Lake of the Spirit The story of Eliot's Master tells.
The years flow on like the flowing river, With peaceful eddies and daring falls,
But if ever the life of the state is perilled, If duty summons or country calls,
The soul of the hills and the stream will waken As it woke in the ancient minute-men, And the hearts of the sons like the hearts of the fathers Will bleed for their country's life again.
President Bartlett, in presenting the orator of the day, said:
We have now reached that point on the program of the day to which all have looked forward with the fondest anticipations, and which, I can assure you, all will look back upon with the satisfaction and delight that flow from fancy's perfect realization. The story of Manchester's fifty years of municipal life, and of her township career antedating that era, of her growth in population,-of the expansion and multiplication of her industries, of her wonderful strides in all the arts of peace and the valor and heroism displayed by her sons in war, will now be told by lips that always charm and never tire, will be told by that eloquent orator, whom we all recognize as our most distinguished bimetallist, for his words are always "apples of gold in pictures of silver"-Judge Henry E. Burnham.
SEMI-CENTENNIAL ORATION.
By Hon. Henry E. Burnham.
We have assembled today to commemorate an event of surpassing interest to every one who cherishes with love and delights to honor the city of Manchester.
Just fifty years have passed since her first city government was inaugurated under chartered rights which had been granted by the state. Today we would crown that event with appropriate honor, in accordance with a beautiful custom known to many a fireside, where, after the lapse of fifty years from some nuptial day, children and grandchildren gather with loving hearts, as we have gathered here, to celebrate a golden anniversary.
Descendants of a noble ancestry, children by birth or by adoption of this rejoicing city, you come to praise the deeds and to glorify the achievements of the mighty men of old who laid so broad and deep the foundations of your town. You come as to some sacred shrine, with hearts filled with gratitude for the glorious heritage which has been bequeathed to you, and with deepest veneration for those brave, true men and women whose memories you would keep forever bright and green, and whose graves you would today cover with flowers whose fragrance and beauty shall never cease or fade away. Above the foundations which they laid have grown the gigantic walls of our manufacturing industries. Agriculture could build the town, but it required the enterprise and the capital of the manufacturer to create a city, and now you would express your indebtedness to the intelligence, courage, and sagacity of the men who established here the greatest industry of our state. Success crowned their efforts. Capital was wedded to the Merrimack, and a great city sprang into life as if by some magic power.
Fifty years a city! How brief a period in the rapid flight of time, and yet how much of human history is comprised within these limits. In this assembly are those whose memories go back to the commencement of that period. Some are indeed vener- able men and women, and all are entitled to our especial honor and respect. Their lives have been happily prolonged until they could witness this glorious day. They stood beside the cradled infancy of our city and guided her earliest footsteps in their onward and upward course. What feeling must thrill their hearts as memory stretches back to those early days of our young city, and the events of that period come thronging to the mind. With what pride and rapture must they have viewed the rapid strides she has made, and what thoughts must have been awakened by the scenes and events of this anniversary week. If their voices were heard today they would unite with yours and mine in paying a loving tribute to the beauty and worth of our Manchester, a queen of cities and the fairest daughter of the Merrimack. Today she stands upon the threshold of the coming century, her great heart beating with pride and exultant joy, with all the vigor of youth, conscious of her strength, justly glorying in her past, her face still bright with the hues of the morning, and looking forward with well-grounded hope, unbounded confidence, and dauntless courage to a future still brighter and more glorious.
At such a time it is natural to turn back the pages of history, to examine the earliest records, and to gather from them, and from the realms of tradition, the story of her
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HON. HENRY E. BURNHAM.
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SEMI-CENTENNIAL OF MANCHESTER, N. H.
beginning, and of those eventful periods which have made her life so honored and successful. Before the white man had sought to build a home within the present limits. of our city, a strange race of men roamed over these hills and along our valleys, for years unnumbered and unknown. Their domain extended to the land of the Mohawks on the west, and the broad Atlantic was their boundary on the east. Even then the advantages and attractiveness of this locality were recognized, for here was the seat of empire of the powerful tribes of Pennacooks, which held sway over a vast domain. Here was the royal residence of their sagamore, around which their council fires were lighted; and here upon the bluff, which from the eastern bank looks down upon the falls of Amoskeag, was their wigwam village. Passaconaway, chieftain of many tribes, saga- more of the Pennacooks, the sachem of the East, here held his imperial court. Friend of the white man, he saw the paleface occupying the hunting grounds of his tribe, and knew that his barbaric empire must soon fall before the advancing march of civilization. He communed with the Great Spirit and, in his dying address to the assembled tribes, is said to have predicted the triumph of the white man, and the sad destiny of the Indian race. To him the Great Spirit, according to the Indian legend, revealed in pro- phetic words, that "these meadows they shall turn with the plow; these forests shall fall by the ax; the palefaces shall live upon your hunting grounds, and make their villages upon your fishing places."
Whatever may have been the origin of these words, how truthfully did they foretell succeeding events. For have not these fields yielded to the plow, the forests fallen by the ax, their hunting grounds become the homes of the palefaces, and their old fishing place of Amoskeag become the city of Manchester? The red man has disappeared; the proud race to which he belonged has passed away. The forests where he hunted have fallen by decay or the woodman's ax, and the rivers and streams that once bore his light canoe still flow on, but give no history of this departed race. No ruins of ancient tower or wall or monument tell to succeeding ages that such a race once existed here. Nothing remains but the few buried implements of war, the rude fragments of pottery, and the unmarked graves of their dead. The ashes of their wigwams have long since mingled with the dust, and the dwellings of another race now cover their ancient haunts.
More than one hundred years after the Pilgrim fathers landed at Plymouth Rock, the first white settlement was made within the limits of our city. In 1722 John Goffe, Jr., Edward Lingfield, and Benjamin Kidder came from Massachusetts and established their homes near the mouth of Cohas brook, and a few years later Archibald Stark, John McNeil, and John Riddell left their homes in Londonderry, and located on the east bank of our river, near the falls of Amoskeag. These hardy pioneers were the men whom we are now proud to call the fathers and the founders of our town.
The name of Goffe is conspicuous in our early history, and is still borne by the prosperous village and the falls near which he lived, while the fame of Stark and of his descendants has illumined with unfading light the pages of our country's history. They and their associates first bore the light of progress into this dark and unknown land. They were a part of that band of pioneers which led the way in the march of civilization. They were men of heroic mold, and belonged to a race which has found no superior among the generations that have come and gone. For where has religion found more zealous and intelligent disciples, liberty more loyal or more glorious defenders, and patriotism, fortitude, and integrity been more truly exemplified than among that race to which our ancestry belonged, which came from the north of Ireland, and is known and honored today as the Scotch-Irish race? Others came from time to time and estab- lished homes in this vicinity, and this young settlement gradually increased in numbers. The forests were slowly retreating before the conquering ax, and the stubborn soil was yielding more and more to the labor of the husbandman. Peace and plenty, with
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