USA > Vermont > Caledonia County > Peacham > Caledonia County grammar school, Peacham, Vt. Report of the commemorative exercises, August 11-12, 1897 100th Anniversary > Part 9
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Now, while I am forced by such an incident to recognize that I am not a spring chicken, I still feel that the response to the toast "The Days of Old" should come from the lips of an older man. I thought at once of Abel Walker, Esquire Hale, Col. Blanchard, but they are gone and others have become old and passed away since they left us. After all it makes little dierence who responds to this sentiment, because it means the same to all of us-no matter what our age. It means the days of our youth-the days when all the world seemed wonderful- the days of our first impressions.
And how those first impressions last. I never read in book or magazine a description of a beautiful bit of nature that I do not see its reproduction in my memory of this dear old town. Be it a view of the distant mountain or of the nearer hill, meadow or wood, trout stream or lake, beautiful village on the hill with its academy and churches, and higher up the silent city of the dead or quiet village in the valley or hamlet by the stream that runs the mill-they are part of my memory of Peacham, and they form a beautiful series around that central and dearest picture of my early home and mother.
Fortunate indeed is the boy whose early days are passed
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in such a town. The air is pure, the springs are pure, the in- fluences are pure. Work is the normal condition and manual labor honorable.
How many a boy following horses and harrow in the fields of this town has entertained himself morning and afternoon repeating the best thoughts from the best authors that have been made familiar to him by that prince of drill masters, Mr. Bunker.
The value of such discipline cannot be overestimated. Fill a boy's mind with such thoughts and there is not much room for evil. It is the idle, empty boy that is in danger.
The old farmer put it about right; said he, "You fill a one half bushel measure with sound, clean wheat, shake it down, put in more wheat, 'strick' it off and the Divil himself can't get in much chaff."
Mr. Toastmaster and friends, I am glad that I am here to-day. I can't tell you how much I have enjoyed the meet- ing of friends, this renewal of old associations.
But I am glad for another reason. This means a revival of interest in Peacham Academy. I am glad that this com- mittee has been appointed. It means money for the school.
We who are friends should improve our every opportunity to help this grand old institution.
Perhaps nowhere in this country is American push and enegry better seen than in the famous twin cities of the great Northwest in the Mississippi Valley. Minneapolis is stocked with New England pluck and Vermont cash. There Caledonia County takes no back seat. One of our own boys stopped long enough in this mad rush for fame and fortune to attend this celebration, and we have retained him to make his peace with the past and the present.
OUR ACADEMY.
Born of patriotism and intelligence, having crowned her- self with a century of well-won honors, she has the respect of the people of this county and State, and lives and will live in the hearts of her sons and daughters.
REMARKS OF HAZEN M. PARKER.
Peacham has always enjoyed certain distinctions. Among these are her name and her religious and educational institu- tions.
I have endeavored to find if there is any other place in the world of the same name, and have failed. and have often wondered where she got it.
The early settlers of Peacham were of the highest type, men of intelligence and culture, who believed in education and religious training.
As the first settlers of Massachusetts first established the church and then Harvard College, so the early settlers of Peacham hastened to found, first a church, then this school,
MISS MIRIAM DIAMOND 1895
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and a little later the public library, all complements of each other in elevating the intelligence and morals of the com- munity. They established and maintained these institutions by self-sacrifice born of ardent devotion to the public good.
Their impress on this community is as indelible as these hills are immovable. Tell me when the influence of such men as John Chandler, William Chamberlin, Leonard Worcester, Thad. Stevens and David Merrill will cease and I, in turn, will tell you when Peacham will cease to exist.
The churches would not have been what they have been had it not been for the school, and the public library would not have been established if the school had not existed, and the intelligence of the community would have been several degrees lower than it has been.
The basal rock which has maintained the high excellence of the institutions of this town and the higher order of the intelligence of its people during the last century and from which have continuously flowed beneficent streams to other communities, is this school.
The people of this town have always been intelligent and thinking readers. The average intelligence of this town is several points higher than that of most other towns. She has always been an example of patriotism and public spirit. The multitudes of men and women who have been reared and educated here and have made their homes elsewhere, have, with few exceptions, been beacon lights in their respective com- munities.
No human power can measure the good done by this school during the last hundred years. Its influence is as permeating as the air we breathe. We all have better homes, live purer lives, and have higher aspirations by reason of it.
I once heard a man in this town, now deceased, say that this academy had always been an injury to the town, because it educated the young men and women and they then went away. Whereas, if they had not been so educated they would have continued to live here. I have often thought what a population Peacham would have were it not for this academy.
While the past is so bright and we all thereby enjoy a van- tage ground which otherwise we should not have enjoyed, yet we live in the present and for the future. We can draw in- spiration from the past, but cannot live on the past. We must always remember that there are no more birds in last year's nests.
My theme is Our Academy. I shall emphasize "Our." It is Our Academy because of the ties joining us to it and it to us. We were educated here. Some of our fathers and mothers, grandfathers and grandmothers were educated here, and the children of some of us are being educated here. It is ours be- cause the strong ties of life were formed here. Being ours, we all owe it a duty.
We are not here to-day simply to renew old acquaintances
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and to glorify the past, pleasant as that may be. We shall fail in the supreme duty of the hour, unless we recognize the wants of the academy and make such preparations as will fully equip it for the demands that will be made upon it.
It is clear to me that the institution must be put upon a better financial basis, or it will be unable to compete with other first class schools and do the work which it should.
The needs of the institution grow as time advances. What was ample formerly is no longer adequate. These needs have been vividly portrayed by Professor Cambridge. We have al- ready set in motion agencies looking toward the betterment of the school. To carry out the plans inaugurated we all must do something, small though it be.
If we have a tithe of the spirit and energy of the founders of this institution, we shall place it beyond the possibility of need. While I believe this people appreciate this school and its value to them and to this town, they do not fully appreciate it.
This is the opportunity for you to demonstrate that you are a credit to your ancestors, and that you recognize and ap- preciate the debt you owe to this institution founded by them.
Every dollar that this town may see fit to put into the treasury of this academy will add two dollars to the wealth of the town. If the citizens here will do their share toward the proper funding of this school, they can count on help from those who have removed from here and reside elsewhere.
It is sometimes said that the field of usefulness of the academy is not as great as formerly. That so many other schools have sprung up that the territory to draw from is reduced. I cannot think so. While there are new schools, there are new scholars. More young people are seeking educa- tion than formerly. There are large numbers of boys and girls growing up on these hillsides, and these, as formerly, are the ones that the world looks to to do its work. If we can educate these alone, we may well be content. But the field is far greater. Let it be known that this school is thoroughly equipped and can give first-class advantages and there will be no lack of students, and they will come from parts you least expect. These beautiful hills will continue to attract. They with the high moral tone of the people, the freedom from temp- tation, will bring families here to educate their children, pro- vided the advantages offered are adequate.
This school must advance or it must retrograde. If it does not continue as a first-class school, it will rapidly de- generate. If we improve this opportunity and do our duty, we shall start this academy into the second century of its exist- ence fully equipped to maintain its past record. If we fail in our duty, it will start on its second hundred years crippled and unable to maintain itself and we shall show ourselves to be unworthy recipients of the benefactions of the fathers.
If I were asked the question "What Is Woman's Sphere?" I should take an ordinary school globe and say "That is
REV. JAMES M. BEATTIE President, 1867-1884
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woman's sphere." If there is any part that doesn't belong to them, it must be the North Pole, for that is a little skittish yet. From the Garden of Eden to Denver, Col., they are the moving force. They captured man centuries ago. When they can capture themselves, the millennium will have come. But what- ever the future may have in store for us, may that equality never banish true chivalry. Peacham has many daughters who are here to honor the day, and I offer this toast:
THE EDUCATION OF WOMAN FIFTY YEARS AGO. BY SARAH A. BAILEY, CAMBRIDGE, MASS.
It matters not what century or clime, We love them still. When the elder Adam was in his prime, In the early reign of Father Time, Weary, perhaps with his gardening, He fell asleep-it may have been spring- But whatever the season, the fact is known That when he awoke he was minus a bone, But found, unless the records deceive, That unique creation, Mother Eve. His manly chivalry thus aroused, The woman's cause he straight espoused, And began at once with purpose kind The cultivation of her mind.
And so, through all the centuries on, That work so piously begun Remains a problem still unsolved, No perfect woman yet evolved; But light is breaking on our view, We hail to-day the woman "new," Even while our gaze is backward cast To this loved vision of the past.
Woman fifty years ago Was wise, not learned, as all must know, For it plainly was not the Original Plan That she should rank as the peer of man; But being of grand old Puritan stock, Grounded and founded on Plymouth Rock, She was earnest, brave, and true- The honored mother of me and you; Well might we barter our pounds and pence For a tithe of her homely common sense.
Though she was fed in those early times On the Rule of Three and diluted rhymes, And the wise ones said the female brain Was quite too weak to bear the strain
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Required to master well the classics, And as for higher mathematics, The component parts of her cerebrum Wouldn't allow her to tackle um, She wasn't one you could hypnotize, You would not try it if you were wise.
The sciences were quite too tough; Though she was counted wise enough To apply them, as she turned the wheel, Or leavened with hope the family meal. It wasn't seemly she should be Versed in the awful mystery of political economy; While feminine autonomy Was a subject as far beyond her ken As it is to-day to most of men.
There wasn't even a woman's club In that seat of culture we call the Hub Of all this mighty nation, But humbly keeping her station,
She never held a college degree,
Nor sought for fame as a poor M. D.
She hadn't even the ghost of a mission So undeveloped was her ambition.
No student of Blackstone then was she, Nor preacher with a great D. D .- Or other alphabetical riddle For which she never cared a fiddle Attached to her name like a comet's tail, Riding the skies like a ship full sail.
Education to-day implies, So the school men theorize, Evolution from a germ- A conveniently ambiguous term- Gradual unfolding from within, Or development of Original Sin, The only germ of any kind Indigenous to the infant mind. You can have this theory at its worth, It hasn't yet been run to earth, It wasn't defined exactly so, From a hobby not so good by half.
But fifty years or so ago It wasn't defined exactly so, But was a pouring of all kinds Of abstract facts into suffering minds, Where by the law of affinity Each sought its fellow of like degree,
MISS J. CHAMBERLAIN
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And this vast conglomeration
Was dubbed in those days an education, But though of methods you chose the new, The fathers got there as well as you; But 'twas thought that only the masculine brain Inured to hardships, could stand the strain, And I'm not trying to prove to-day That there is a yet more excellent way, But give the facts as they come to me And leave the scales of justice free. Yet somehow or other this noble dame, Though all unknown to the ranks of fame, Was the motive power in the family As all who remember her will agree. And though she followed the Pauline rule, And made of home her principal school,
'Tis said she often distanced her master, Her intuitions travelling faster
Than his lumbering logic's sober pace, And very often she won the race.
Toastmaster McClary was now obliged to leave, and George B. M. Harvey was called upon to preside. He was greeted with cheers and the Chautauqua salute, which was also given to Mr. McClary as he left the stage.
WHEN WE WERE BOYS TOGETHER. REMARKS BY L. H. MEADER.
It is with mingled feelings of pain and pleasure that we return to the scenes of our boyhood school days, after the lapse of almost a quarter of a century.
All day yesterday and to-day we sat in the seats yonder, and with an enthusiasm we could not suppress applauded every exercise.
The old school, the playground, the familiar faces-all carry us back. When we were boys these were familiar scenes. The people of this village received us into their social circles in which not the "Four Hundred," but the "Eight Hundred" took part.
Here we were surrounded with wholesome religious in- fluences. The people were patient with our foibles, and so kind were they that we came to feel that we had only to step into the outside world, when our school days should be done, to find a cordial welcome in whatever calling our fancies might . prompt us to select.
Many of us have for years pushed against the jostling world in our struggle for existence, and I think our boyhood day dreams, while not fully realized, have had some reality; for the things learned here and the methods of learning them have helped to make better men and women of us all.
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Old Hamilcar led his son Hannibal to the altar, it is said, and caused him to swear eternal hatred against the Romans.
This week I have taken my little "Hannibals" to the shrines of my boyhood in Peacham. They have taken no oaths, these were not needed. The fact that these places are so near my heart will, I fervently hope, be a tie to bind them to honor all that I esteemed.
When we were boys, in the old lyceum debates, we dis- cussed and settled ( ?) questions that had given statesmen and legislators solicitude, only to find as as we took up the active duties of life that they must be settled again, and that they would not "down" at our bidding.
On yonder platform the eloquence of Rienzi, Regulus, Spar- tacus and Patrick Henry was always invested with a new in- terest as these time-honored declamations did service week after week, year after year.
Shall we forget "The Old Clock on the Stairs," "Curfew Shall Not Ring To-night" and gems from the other great mas- ters of English song which the girls presented as their con- tributions on Friday afternoons? And the old reading book! We were thrilled by its selections-we read and re-read them. What grander literature have we in our language than Macau- lay's essay on Warren Hastings?
The description of the great hall of William Rufus was the admiration of us all. Nor should we omit "Voices of the Dead" and "Over the River."
The echoes of yonder school rooms, ladies and gentlemen, are fragrant with tender memories.
But these days are gone; our places are filled by others; other footsteps and other voices are heard in recitation room and corridors.
We are loyal to the old school, to the town, and its people; we want to see the present administration prosper and carry the institution forward; but for us-the boys of yesterday-for us, loyal as we feel to the school of to-day, the approach to Peacham Academy as the vista of the years lengthens will be by "Bunker Hill,"
There are three times when we wish to have our doctor within instant call. At birth, through life and at death. Any other call outside of these usually results in an autopsy, but for your sakes I'm going to chance it to-day.
THE PRESS OF PEACHAM. ADDRESS BY DR. E. R. CLARK.
This occasion is to me one of the pleasantist. It is an occasion to which I have looked forward with much interest for many years. I know by your eager faces here to-day and the many pleasant greetings that have been exchanged that this is to mark a milestone in our lives.
Now, there is the hydraulic press, the clothes press, the
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press of the hot goose, the press of people, and the printing press.
Now, these presses which I have mentioned in their various capacities are all indicative of power. The hydraulic press exerts its power in compressing articles into smaller compass, the clothes press by preserving to us our wardrobes, the press of the hot goose by making our trousers a little more presentable to the eyes of our neighbors. The press of people has been manifest on more than one occasion both for good and evil. The printing press exerts its power by diffusion. As the in- ventor of printing revolutionized learning, so the invention of the cylinder press increased the power of the press for dif- fusion many, many fold.
But to our tale. In February, 1798, Samuel Goss and Amos Farley having learned the printer's trade in the office of Thomas and Worcester in Worcester, Mass .- being then the largest printing office in New England if not in America- removed to Peacham and began the publication of the Green Mountain Patriot, which continued until 1807, a copy of which, published in 1806, I now hold in my hand.
A few years before this a Mr. Wattau, who had a son Ezekiel, moved to town from Hollis, N. H., and used the hot goose to such good advantage that he become indispensable to the citizens of the town. Ezekiel attended the academy when on yonder hill, and at about the age of fifteen was ap- prenticed to the printing trade in the office of Farley and Goss. With them about March, 1807, he removed to Montpelier, and in the course of time he bought out the already established Vermont Watchman, improved and enlarged it from time to time, making it a power in the state. He inaugurated Wat- tau's Vermont Register which, with enlargements and im- provements, has become a household necessity and is famed in the office of every business man in New England. Later he became Gen. Ezekiel P. Wattau, the associate of the most em- inent men,of his time an dthe councillor of Governors, Senators and Presidents.
A little later two Peacham boys, who got whatever training they ever had in the schools at Peacham Academy, entered the office of Ezekiel P. Wattau, and after serving their time, while Joseph Clark at Wells River was printing the spelling book by which our fathers learned the A, B, C of literature, Oliver Johnson, with eleven other kindred souls, formed the Massa- chusetts Anti-slavery Society, and became the life-long friend and biographer of William Lloyd Garrison and the coadjutor of Phillips and Greeley and Beecher, and helped to teach the American people the F, G, H of human liberty, the A, B, C of which had been learned before Plymouth Rock. And now it remains for you and for me, if we are worthy sons of worthy sires, to finish the work so well by them begun.
But this is not all. This same Samuel Goss and Amos Farley in 1799 invited to Peacham him of whom they had 6
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learned their trade, who now had become Rev. Leonard Wor- cester.
According to my best judgment to the Rev. Leonard Wor- cester, Peacham and the whole world owes more than to any one man who lived in town; for without dividing he destroyed divisions ,and without leaving an unsightly scar, by the inspira- tions of his genius, he healed all wounds and thus unified all parties in one homogeneous whole and welded them, heated by the fires of love and respect and the hammer blows of his logic, into a mass which after a lapse of more than fifty years still remains.
In what other way but by the genius of this same Leonard Worcester and his faithfulness in instructing his flock can we account for the rugged patriotism of the late Thaddeus Stevens, of whom an eminent divine said in a recent discourse, "He was the man in his last days weak in body, so weak that he had to be carried to the halls of Congress by his faithful man, but alert in mind, so alert that the pointing of his finger made men tremble." In my boyhood days just at the close of the war, I remember seeing a little scrap of poetry concerning Mr. Stevens, only a few lines of which I can now recall.
"Gnarled and tough though seventy winters Is a bitter grizzly rod, When, to squelch some speaker vapid Rises Pennsylvania Thad."
In my heart I verily believe that the teachings of Father Worcester made possible the late David Merrill, the author of that now justly famous "ax sermon." This sermon at once placed Mr. Merrill in the front rank of thinkers, preachers and teachers of his time.
Previous to 1860, 2,500,000 copies had been circulated, since which time it has been translated into nearly every language under heaven, and has been read the wide world around.
What can I say of that great army of men and women who, though perhaps less distinguished, have, in their various spheres, done a noble work for God, for humanity and for man- kind. Some have passed on to the beyond, some are still with us, and of these very many are on the verge of the better land.
I hold in my hand the latest production of the Press of Peacham, "The Pencil," published monthly by "Bub" and "Sis," and though small in size, yet it is big in heart, though narrow in circumference, it is pregnant with expectations.
Now, when all the stories have been told and all the pages have been written and the evidence has all been summed up by whomsoever it may be, if the truth has been discovered, I be- lieve it will be found that Father Worcester, the master prin- ter, the master mind, was a spring in the mountains, a fountain from which has proceeded very much of the best there is in the
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moral and intellectual development of the sons and daughters of our noble old academy.
Since the Northmen became Normans, the hills have dom- inated the valleys and the farms the cities; Green Mountain boys have captured something besides Ticonderoga in York State. Wherever the world's work is being done you'll find our boys, and be it soil or air, blood or nurture, I give you this toast with one of the boys to answer it.
THE MEN WE BREED.
We boast no pedigree, but only claim the laurels that in life's great battle we can win.
POEM BY THAD S. VARNUM.
Not always from the highest peaks the clearest view is gained. On slopes below, the cloud-drifts lie Bewildering the earnest eye,
Howe'er toward truth its sight be strained.
So we, who breed from Peacham's hills are given right to pride, Though not so high her summit sit As some, we know her fair and fit,
Nor yet belying nor belied.
If few, we find, the deathless names her honor roll adorn, As few are those whom guilt or shame May justly brand with mark of flame,
Or set in pillory for scorn.
And all her lists are thickly set with men and women true, Who, hiding not a humbler light Have done, with sturdy, honest might,
The tasks their hands have found to do.
If leaders born to light a world have found no nurture here, Yet strong are we in those whose need Of leadership is small indeed,
Who falter not, nor faint, nor fear.
Her glory is that all her sons, by grace of what she taught, Have learned that faith and simple worth Inherit still God's wholesome earth,
And goodly tribute here have brought.
Let those who pledge a boastful faith to schools of wider fame, Guard well their record and their cause- If we may judge by fewest flaws,
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