^ 
 
 \ 
 
MEMOIRS 
 
 € O L . A R I A L BRAGG 
 
 » w 
 
 WRITTEN BY HIMSELF. 
 
 ^•' T looked upon it and rereived instruction,"— Pho verbs 
 
 MILFORD ' 
 GEORGE W. STACY, PRINTER 
 
 1S46. 
 

 / i'3 /S 
 
 'Of 
 
 ««*'f*ecc« t 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 The object of these Memoirs is in some meas- 
 ure to remedy an evil, which the author believes to 
 have been, by the American people generally, too 
 long neglected. It is true, our Fathers, who first 
 emigrated to this country, were compelled by their 
 situation to bestow all their time and attention, on 
 cultivating the earth, and humbly asking the bles- 
 sing of Divine Providence on all their labors, 
 to save them from pestilence and famine ; the ar- 
 row from the bow, and the tomahawk in the hands 
 of the savage, who lurked in the forest thirsting 
 for human blood. These and many other difficul- 
 ties, which unavoidably tread on the heel of all 
 settlers in new coiuitries, and more especially those 
 separated from their mother country by a vast 
 ocean. These are but a few of the many calami- 
 ties, that so often thined their ranks, whilst those 
 that survived their not much less unfortunate breth- 
 ren, were for the want of bread, but little more 
 than walking skeletons, which may be considered 
 a reasonable excuse for many ihat have not left on 
 record, any account of themselves, that might have 
 been handed down to their chiklrcn's children, that 
 future generations, might have rejoiced at the op- 
 portunity of tracing their genealogy back, if no 
 farther than the landing of their fathers in Amcri- 
 
IV PREFACE. 
 
 ca, to know the name of that father who left hii 
 home, his native country, for the wilds of Ameri- 
 ca. Then their descendants would not have had 
 occasion to pry into obscurity, or tresspass on the 
 aged, to learn the names of their ancestors ; the 
 nation they were of, the country and town they for- 
 ever left behind them, for this then howling wild- 
 erness, but now prosperous and happy land, which 
 the author considers an invaluable legacy to us 
 their descendants, and only regrets he has now no 
 means of tracing back, but three generations, which 
 is all that will be attempted at this late period of 
 time. 
 
 It is believed, a sufficient excuse will be found 
 in the foregoing, and only remains to know who 
 this Arial Bragg is, where he was born, and from 
 whom he descended. This will be answered ac- 
 cording to the best information that can be ob- 
 tained at this late period of time ; at least it may 
 be a starting point from which others, who if they 
 please, may continue what is here so imperfectly 
 commenced. 
 
M2E®a®35Ega 
 
 That the difTerenl places of residence, of my an- 
 cestors may be belter understood, is to know tiiat 
 Dedham, in its first settlement, contained what is 
 now Wrentham and Franklin. The first settlers 
 in Wrentham came from Dedham about the year 
 1650, and on the 27th of March 1661 petitioned 
 Dedham to set them off by themselves, which they 
 did ; and in October the 15th 1673, petitioned the 
 General Court to be incorporated into a Town by 
 the name of Wrentham, which petition was ans- 
 wered the same day it was presented. In 1676 
 the inhabitants left the town and returned to Ded- 
 ham, on account of the G^reat Indian war, called 
 King Phillips' War, commenced in 1675. In Au= 
 gust 1676 King Phillip was killed, and the war 
 soon brought to a close ; when Samuel and Cor- 
 nelius Fisher, with sixteen others, returned to 
 Wrentham in 16S0. Between the years of 16S4 
 and 1692, they built their first meeting-house; their 
 first ministers name was Mann, He was ordained 
 the 13th of April 1692, and died the 22d of May 
 1719; nged 72 year?; and the forty-ninth year of 
 
6 ^ BIEMOIRS. 
 
 his ministry, as he had preached some nineteen 
 years before he was ordained. 
 
 Henry Messenger was their second minister ; he 
 was ordained the 5th day of December 1719. In 
 1721 their second meeting-house was built on the 
 26th of October 1773. Rev. Joseph Bean preached 
 a century sermon in the third meeting-house, he be- 
 ing at that time their third minister ordained in 
 that place, from which we take many of the follow- 
 ing dates. Mehitable Shears, was the first person 
 born in Wrentham of English descent ; and the 
 son of John Wears, the first buried in a burying 
 place in that town, the 10th of February 1673. 
 
 Franklin was set off from Wrentham as a 
 Parish, the 29th of August 1737, and on the 16th 
 of February 173S, Elias Haven was called to 
 preach with them, who died the 10th of August 
 1754, aged 41 years, and the 16th of his minis- 
 try. The 4th of June 1760, Caleb Burnham was 
 ordained, and dismissed the 6th of March 1768. 
 Rev. Nathaniel Emmons, their third minister, 
 was ordained the 21st of April 1773, and preached 
 in the first meeting-house in that place, on the 
 North side of which stood a lofty pine tree, whose 
 stately form seems as if it was placed there to 
 screen the speaker within from harm, whilst he 
 dispensed a portion from the sacred Scriptures, 
 nnd to the small group who had assembled from 
 
MEMOIRS. 
 
 amongst the trees of the forest, to feed on the 
 . bread of eternal life, flowing from the mouth of 
 their speaker, and from whose pen and tongue, 
 they continued to receive instruction for more 
 than sixty years. 
 
 Arial Bragg, the author of these Memoirs, was 
 the son of Arial Bragg, who was the son of William 
 Bragg, whose fathers name was Alexander Bragg, 
 who with his wife came into the town of Wrentham, 
 where he had, either before, or after he came, four 
 sons and five daughters, viz : William, Nicholas, 
 Constant and Alexander, Elizabeth, Lydia, Mar- 
 tha, Jemima, and Sarah. We leave William and 
 pass to Nicholas, who in the early settlement of 
 Vermont, left Wrentham and settled in Springfield, 
 West side of Connecticut River, about five miles' 
 above Charlestown, N. H., where he lived to a 
 good old age, leaving behind him numerous de- 
 scendants. Constant settled in Wrentham ; was 
 endowed with uncommon strength and ability to 
 perform almost any labor that he was called on to 
 do— maintained the character of an honest man, 
 reared considerable of a family, labored hard, and 
 died poor. Alexander, the youngest of the family, 
 married Esther Fisher, daughter of John Fisher 
 of Franklin, carried on the farm of his father in 
 law, until the year 177G, when John Fisher told 
 his farm to Eli Kichardson, and removed in 1777 
 
8 MEMOIRS. 
 
 Oil lo a farm in Wrentham, bought of Joseph 
 Spur ; JVlexander removed with him, carried on 
 his farm as at Franklin, until the 8th of March 
 17S5, when he removed on to a farm in the South 
 Westerly part of Holliston, Middlesex Co. bought 
 of one Tenney, in 1702 ; sold what remained of 
 his place, to Ebenezer Littlefield, and in 1793 re- 
 moved into a tenement in Holliston, belonging to 
 Ephraim Littlefield, where his wife died, leaving 
 three daughters, Jemima, Rhoda and Sophronia, 
 to take their chance in life without the fostering 
 care of a mother ; some time after married a wo- 
 man from Atlleborough, said to be a widow of Dr. 
 Mann, by whom he had eight hundred dollars, and 
 removed on to a small farm in Hopkinton, bought 
 of Aaron Kinsman. In a short time he become in- 
 volved — exchanged his place for one in Warwick, 
 of less value, where in a short time he had occas- 
 sion to exchange that for one of less value in Strat- 
 ten, Windham Co. Vt. on which he removed with 
 his wife and two sons, which he had by his last 
 wife. Not long after this removal he was taken 
 sick, and from which he never recovered, but died 
 as was said by violence from the hand of his wife. 
 Elizabeth, daughter of Alexander the first, mar- 
 ried to Capt. John Blake of Wrentham, two miles 
 South of the centre meeting-house, on the old road 
 leading to Boston. Lydia, married Dea. David 
 
MEMOIRS- 9 
 
 Hoibrook, in Noilh Wrenthnjii, Martha was 
 married to John Hancock, in the Southerly part of 
 Wrentham. Jemima was married to a man by the 
 name of Stanely, and Sarah to Benjamin Ray. 
 
 We will return to William the oldest son of 
 Alexander the first, who married a woman by the 
 the name of Bcnett, and settled in Wrentham, 
 where his wife brought him five sons and one 
 daughter, viz : Henry, Luther, Arial, William, 
 .Ebenezer, and Polly, and where he came to his 
 death in a most extraordinary manner. He had 
 occasion with two others to tend a furnace for cast- 
 ing hard ware, situated in Wrentham. In the 
 evening Aaron Pond, a young man of their ac- 
 quaintance called in for a few moments ; they be- 
 ing much weary in tending day and night, agreed 
 with him to tend the furnace a short time whilst 
 they slept. Distressing to tell, whilst his three 
 friends were asleep with their feet to the furnace, 
 their friend was alarmed by the bursting of the 
 furnace, from which the melted ore made its es- 
 cape, and flowed over his three friends, consuming 
 their flesh to the bone ! when Pond, with the for- 
 titude of a man, and the heart of a Lion, drew 
 them forth from the spot where they all three had 
 but short notice of their departure to that land 
 ' from whose bourne no traveller returns.' 
 
 V^ will non- leave Wiliiani in hi^J "la^r; ;ind 
 
10 MEMOIRS. 
 
 £Tive some accoanl of his son Henry ; who left 
 Wrentham for Ke(;nc, N. H. where he married his 
 wife, who brought him one or more children, when 
 his country called him to the American War of 
 1775, where he did the duly of an orderly sergeant. 
 After an absence of more than a year, he return- 
 ed and found his house sacked ; his wife had left 
 her home for that of another man, carrying with 
 her all of any value. 
 
 From this scene he turned away heart broken to 
 join his comrades in arms, which service he con- 
 tinued to perform till the close of the war. Fnding 
 himself broken down by the fatigues of seven years 
 in the service of his country, he retired to his 
 native State — found employment in tending a grist 
 mill for an old lady, not far from Wrentham. This 
 IS all we know concerning him. 
 
 Luther Williams, second son went to Keene, 
 married and settled four miles West of Keene 
 centre meeting-house, a place called by the Indians 
 Ashawillet, where he had a large family and ac- 
 cumulated a handsome property. His oldest son 
 being appointed Deputy Sheriff, made some mis- 
 take in a heavy matter, his father was his bonds- 
 man, by which he lost the largest part of his prop= 
 erty, and lia^i long since paid the debt of nature. 
 
 William, the fourth son of William Bragg, 
 served his inuc at Blacksinithii)2' ^vith Col Amos 
 
MExllOIUS. 11 
 
 Turner the senior, where he became a finished 
 workman — went to Keene, N. H. set up his busi- 
 ness, married and had a large family and much 
 work to do for good customers, by which he main- 
 tained his family, and obtained for many years the 
 name of a good citizen. At length he became disi- 
 pated; neglected his business, died poor and un- 
 lamented. 
 
 Arial, son of William, man'ied the daughter of 
 John Fisher of Franklin — more of him hereafter. 
 Ebenezcr Williams' youngest son settled in the 
 Otter Creek country, West of the Green Moun- 
 tains, Vt. where he closed his career in this life 
 honorable to himself. Polly Williams' only daugh- 
 ter, married a man by the name of Field. He was 
 a Blacksmith by trade, and lived in Keene, N. H. 
 with whom his wife's mother also lived until her 
 death. 
 
 We will now give some further account of his 
 descent from that of Eleazer Fisher, who in 1706 
 removed from Wrentham, and settled in Franklin, 
 on the road leading from Med way to Wrentham, 
 about one mile South of Medway line, or the mid- 
 die of Charles River, on a farm now owned by Dr. 
 Nathaniel Miller, where in May 1706, his wife 
 brought him a son, who he named John, and who 
 was the first male child born on the land now with- 
 in he bounds of Franklin, and where Eleazer Fish- 
 
12 
 
 MEMOIRS. 
 
 er continued to the end of his hfc, leaving the most 
 of his estate to his son Leonard, who lived and 
 died there. 
 
 Nathaniel, settled about a mile South on the 
 same road, being the same land on which Lewis 
 Fisher Esq. his grandson now lives. Hezekiah, 
 lived and died a bachelor. Sarah, married a man 
 by the name of Lethbridge. John, his youngest 
 son who we have said sold his place in Franklin, 
 to Eli Richardson ; in his early days married a 
 wife whose name was Phebe Gay, who was an 
 exemplary and pious woman. She looked well to 
 her household, and gave a portion to all in due 
 season, by whom her husband had four sons and 
 five daughters, viz : Phebe, John, Sarah, Esther, 
 Rhoda, Amos, Rebecca, and two sons who died in 
 their infancy. His daughter Phebe married a man 
 by the name of Archer, by whom she had one son, 
 and in a few days died, leaving her son whose name 
 was Amos, to the kind care and keeping of her 
 father John Fisher, who reared his grandson to the 
 age of sixteen, and from whom he received in his 
 latter days, a rich reward in the kind care and ten- 
 der treatment he at all times received from the hand 
 of his grandson Amos, until Oct. 1791, when af- 
 ter a long life devoted to Christianity, of which he 
 was a .worthy example, at the age of eighty-five 
 years and five months, in calm resignation to the 
 
MEMOIRS. 13 
 
 will of his Heavenly Father, resigned his body to 
 the dust, and his spirit to Him who gave it. His 
 daughter Rhoda married Ebenezer Leland of Hop- 
 kinton, and removed with him to Peru, at that time 
 called Patridgeiield ; from thence moved to Hinds- 
 dale, died there — leaving at his death two daugh- 
 ters. 
 
 We have already given an account of Esther 
 the third daughter of John Fisher, who was mar- 
 ried to Alexander Bragg, son of Alexander the 
 first, which is all the account we can now give of 
 John Fisher's children, excepting his daughter 
 Sarah, who married Arial Bragg, son of William; 
 thus it will be seen that Arial Bragg, son of Wil- 
 liam and Alexander, Williams brother, married sis- 
 ters. Arial after marriage, lived with his wife Sa- 
 rah in the North part of Wrentham, on land known 
 by the name of the Boyd place, where his wife 
 brought him two sons and two daughters, viz : — 
 Willard, Arial, Eunice and Folly. In the Spring 
 of 1777 removed on to a farm in the centre of 
 Franklin, bought of Joshua Daniels, where his 
 wife brought him a daughter whose name was Sal- 
 ly, and where he, by the help of his small farm and 
 that of his hands, being a Shoemaker, provided 
 a comfortable living for himself and family, when 
 he was called to take part in the war of the Ameri- 
 times that tried men's souls ; the 
 
14 MEMOIRS. 
 
 American people struggling to relieve tliemsclves 
 from taxation imposed on them by Great Britian, 
 wihout their consent, and many other burdens too 
 grievous to be borne. In fine, to relieve them- 
 selves from absolute tyranny, and to teach the 
 English nation a lesson never to be forgotten, that 
 those who had the courage to emigrate to this 
 wild wilderness, inhabited by savage man as well 
 as beasts, had hearts of steel to defend it, for which 
 they pledged to each other their lives, their for- 
 tunes, and more than that their sacred honors, nev- 
 er to submit until the chain of slavery already forg- 
 ed for their necks should be broken, and thrown to 
 the dogs of the British Parliment, as a token of the 
 daring deeds of those Patriots. Arial Bragg was 
 compelled in defence of those rights, dearer than 
 life, to bid adieu for a time, perhaps forever, 
 to the partner of his bosom, and his cherished 
 little ones, and turn his back on all that man holds 
 dear save his liberty ! and hasten to join his coun- 
 trymen in arms at the tented field, where the stand- 
 ard of liberty had been planted and must flourish, 
 although its roots might require to be moistened 
 with the best blood of the American land ! 
 
 What added more to the heart-felt distress of 
 leaving his dear wife and little one the object of his 
 affections, was not that of leaving them ill the 
 
 midst of kind neiehbor^s but leaving them surround- 
 3 
 
MEMOIRS. 15 
 
 ed by ToryvS to the cause of liberty— who made do 
 scruples to declare that although they were then 
 compelled to put on the smile of friendship, while 
 if they had you within the British lines, they would 
 wash their hands to their elbows in your heart's 
 blood. Such were the blood thirsty cannibals that 
 surrounded the poor soldier's wife and five small 
 children, who were left to the mercy of the mer- 
 ciless, with the exception of a few distant neigh- 
 bors, who the Torys tried to cudgel into submiss- 
 ion, that they might more safely supply the British 
 with fresh provisions, whilst the British were by 
 fire and sword, laying waste the country, and by 
 all the means that in them lay, drawing the last 
 drop of blood from the hearts of the American 
 people. The poor soldiers term the first time in 
 the service of his country, was not of long dura- 
 tion, but long enough for poverty in its most hor- 
 rid form ; not only to surround the poor man's 
 dwelling, but had closely examined every part with- 
 in, whilst the ungodly Torys laid waste the fields, 
 and gave the swine means of destroying what lit- 
 tle the soldier's wife had hoped, with the blessing 
 of heaven, might be gathered to gladden the heart 
 of a mother, and allay in some measure the hung- 
 er of her children. But alas ! it was not so, her 
 hopes were blasted, and all earthly happiness draw- 
 ing to a close. The only glimmering hope that rc= 
 
16 MEMOIRS, 
 
 mainecl, was the return of licr hns])anf.l, that pos- 
 sibly some way or means might be devised to save 
 her and her little ones from pestilence without, apd 
 famine from within. She looked, but looked in 
 vain ; her husband came not. He could not be 
 spared from tire field of honor. To provide for one, 
 and leave more for the rest, she put her second 
 son Arial, to Daniel Gould in the North part of 
 Wrentham, September 1779. Having one child 
 ofT her hands, she made strenuous efforts to save 
 the remainder from starvation. But still her hus- 
 band came not. The cold and inclement season 
 had made its appearance, with that sternness that 
 poverty and a broken heart had not the power to 
 combat. Seeing no means to escape her then sit- 
 uation, she was compelled to have recourse at last, 
 although not the least afflicting, it was that of ap- 
 plying to the overseers of the poor for the town of 
 Wrentham, for that relief she and her children so 
 much needed. John Fisher her father, moved with 
 compassion for the sufferings of his daughter, bid 
 her with her youngest child welcome at his house, 
 while the Selectmen being overseers of the poor 
 that year, made provision for the remaining four 
 as follows : Willard they bound by indentures to 
 Elijah Ferrington, until he should be sixteen years 
 of age. Eunice they put to Abijah Pond, and 
 Polly to Nathan Fisher, all in Wrentham, while 
 
/ 
 
 MEMOIRS. 17 
 
 Arial was loft with Daniel Gould, for Alexander 
 Bragg to take away when he pleased. Willard 
 often complained of short living, which may be 
 true, as he was once caught eating crusts of bread 
 from his grandfather Fisher's swill pail who lived 
 quite near his masters. No one taking notice of 
 his complaints, as he made none to no one but his 
 brother, but sought his living the best way he 
 could, until within two months of his time being 
 out with his master, when taking with him his gun, 
 he was oil to the West. On his way he fell in 
 with Mr. Parmenter of Petersham, with whom he 
 lived until twenty-one years of age. Here he 
 lived well, was clothed well, and was dismissed 
 with sixty-six dollars and sixty seven cents. From 
 this place he went to the German Flats, married 
 Iiim a wife and went to his father in laws in Scipo, 
 Cyauga Co. N. Y.; from there to Dryden, where in 
 1S14 his brother paid him a visit, gave him sixty 
 dollars, and paid his expenses to Albany, and back 
 again from thence to Whitesborough, from thence 
 to Canaan, Wayne Co. Ohio. After one more 
 move of seven miles North West of Canaan, he 
 made his last move to within a few miles of his on- 
 ly daughter Lura. She had married Mr. Wil- 
 liam Cahow in Norton, Portage Co. Ohio. His 
 daughter Lura has since died, and he if living, 
 was seventy-five years old the 12lh of Dec. 1845. 
 Eunice in the time of her service learned the 
 
IS MEMOIRS. 
 
 trade of her mistress, who was a Tailoress — went 
 to Wilminglon, married to Daniel Lincoln, who 
 finding the land cold and unproductive, removed to 
 Alexander, Genesee Co. N. Y. where she had a 
 large family, and with the help of her husband 
 accumulated a handsome propert}^ she being a 
 woman of uncommon power of bod}^ as well as of 
 mind. Her husband looked m her for counsel, she 
 was the stay of his family ; her husband was qui- 
 et and well disposed, but of small mind, with whom 
 she lived contented and happy. Her anxiety to 
 gain property, and the concerns of the family to- 
 gether, proved too much for her strength ; her 
 constitution gave way, consumption and death fol= 
 lowed. She was buried the 16th of October 1820, 
 aged 46. 
 
 Polly was born the Sth of October 1776. She 
 went from Nathan Fisher's to tend store for a 
 man in Mendon, by the name of Neet, who struck 
 her with a whip because she would not wear a 
 pair of thick shoes that he had got repaired with 
 heavy soles. At this the neighbors took offence ; 
 lay near the house, and when she came out, took 
 her into the office of Seth Hastings Esq. to whom 
 by their request she told her story. A warrant 
 was granted, and Nett apprehended, brought to 
 trial and fined debt and cost to the extent of the 
 law J when she left and came to Holliston ; from 
 
MEMOIRS. 19 
 
 thence she followed her sister Eunice to Wilming- 
 ton — married Perous Lincoln, brother to Daniel 
 her sister's husband, and removed with them to 
 Alexander, where her husband died, and where in 
 time she married the second time and removed to 
 Black Rock. Her husband became dissipated ; so 
 much so, that it was unsafe to live with him, when 
 she went to live with her son in law, John Miles, 
 in Amherst, and may be yet living. Sally, the 
 youngest daughter of Arial Bragg was born in 
 Franklin in 1778, and in the fall of 1779 was re- 
 moved with her mother into the house of her grand- 
 father, and continued under the roof with her 
 grandfather, mother and others, until she came to 
 womanhood. She then went to HoUiston, board- 
 ed with her brother and others, and worked at the 
 tailoress business, until she married to Isaac Kibee, 
 who lived some time in Milford, when he removed 
 to Medway, now a part of Holliston, where she 
 closed her many years of sickness by death. 
 
 Arial, son of William, who was absent in his 
 country's service, as has been said, returned for 
 the first time since his wife applied to the town for 
 assistance. He had before his return enlisted for 
 three years, and taken his bounty of three hundred 
 dollars ; he had but a short time to stop and see 
 his wife and little ones, and bid them adieu for 
 three long years; he gave to each of his children an 
 
 9 
 
20 MEMOIRS. 
 
 English crown piece, fifty shillings old tenor, six 
 shillings and eight pence lawful currency, or one 
 dollar and ten cents federal. When he came to 
 give the parting kiss to the wife of his love, and 
 press to his bosom for the last time his infant daugh- 
 ter, on whom he looked, but spake not ; and whilst 
 the silent tear stole down his war-worn cheek, he 
 turned to join his comrades in arms, waving his 
 hand to bid adieu for that time and forever. He 
 was stationed at West Point, and did the duty of a 
 Barber for the officers. The Small Pox prevailed 
 at the time at that place, which in the way of his 
 business he had the misfortune to take. There 
 was to appearance but little cause of alarm but a 
 few moments before his death ; the ail struck in as 
 the pock flatted down. He felt himself going 
 when in the anguish of his heart he spoke for the 
 last time — my children ! my children ! shall I see 
 them no more ! when death closed the scene. 
 
 We will now give some faint but true account of 
 Arial Bragg, who we left with Daniel Gould in 
 North Wrentham,'to understand the economy prac- 
 tised in those days, and particularly the manner of 
 treatment of Mr. G's. wife to Arial. The family 
 of Daniel consisted at this time of four children, 
 one son and three daughters, viz : Peter, Polly Sal- 
 ly and Ozina. You will see that six constituted 
 this family, if you Uirow in Arial to make weight, 
 
MEMOIRS. 21 
 
 who was seven years old the 30th of July 1779. 
 
 It was the old woman's general custom to boil 
 
 meet and potatoes for dinner, from which she with 
 
 a heart of adamant, and cold as the grave, would 
 
 help Arial to a small piece of meat and two small 
 
 potatoes, and a like piece of bread ; for supper and 
 
 breakfast there was but one continued round, half 
 
 pint of the liquor that the meat was boiled in, was 
 
 served to him in a brown earthen pint porringer, 
 
 striped with yellow at the bottom, into which was 
 
 added what bread she did take up at one time with 
 
 the end of her thumb and fore fingers, from a 
 
 wooden bowl standing on a table with a spoon but 
 
 half of common length, which Arial put in full 
 
 operation until the porringer was relieved of its 
 
 contents, and the spoon broken off by the bowl by 
 
 continued bending when at the bottom of the dish. 
 
 This answered his most sanguine expectations, 
 
 as he was now furnished with a spoon of full 
 
 length, and of which the old lady's sagacity never 
 
 discovered the moral of his breaking a short spoon 
 
 for a long one. There was an exception to his 
 
 having meat and potatoes for dinner, which was of 
 
 so little consequence, it had like to have slipt his 
 
 mind. Daniel killed a hog, and his two ears were 
 
 cut off from his head, boiled and given to Arial for 
 
 his dinner ; and for once he had as much as he 
 
 wanted — for what the two ears lacked for meat on 
 2# 
 
22 MEMOIRS. 
 
 the outside, was made up of hair on the edges, and 
 wax within; they were boiled as the butcher left 
 them. 
 
 This year in December the snow fell five feet 
 deep on the level. Some places in cutting wood, 
 stumps were left more than twelve feet high, and 
 travelling could be done in no other way than on 
 snow shoes, which caused Daniel to put his knife 
 to the throat of every old horse he could law^fully 
 lay his hands on, as he did much with green horse 
 hides in stringing bows for snow shoes. In the 
 time of this snow storm, Daniel discovered that 
 Arial had no small clothes, suitable to the season; 
 ordered the house to be searched for a piece of 
 cloth, when lo a piece of woolen and linen cloth 
 was found, striped, red and white, from which 
 Daniel, he being an ingenious man, cut him a pair 
 of small clothes, and small they were ; if cutting 
 them small had then been in fashion, Daniel's repu- 
 tation would have stood far ahead of all in that 
 part of the country. When the small clothes were 
 finished, they could not be buttoned at the knee in 
 any other way, than by running a string doubled 
 through the button, and draw it through ; and when 
 buttoned he could not bend his knee, which made 
 it convenient in the discharge of his unavoidable 
 business, as small houses were scarce and the snow 
 so deep, it could be done by one of his age in no 
 
MEMOIRS. 23 
 
 Other way. Daniel's wife had a heart of adamant. 
 She would as often deny him a piece of bread as 
 asked for, and as asking became useless,] he was 
 drove to other means. He was on the evening of 
 the 12th of January, actually stealing bread from 
 the big wooden bowl on the table, when his uncle 
 Alexander Bragg came for him, and he had the 
 pleasure of running four miles on the snow, upon 
 the road made by snow shoes, between the hours of 
 eight and ten that evening. This exchange in a 
 long run was none of the best ; but it was better 
 than to starve, for in this exchange he had enough 
 to eat — was in the house of his grandfather John 
 Fisher, whose farm Alexander then carried on. 
 His mother with her youngest child was also there. 
 His uncle Alexander, and his aunt Esther, with 
 whom he was to live occupied the other part of the 
 house. The combination of these things made the 
 times pleasant, and for a while agreeable. 
 
 Alexander for a trade was not a man to be taken 
 by surprise, as it appears he took Arial on trial. 
 He was not bound to him by the Selectmen, for 
 more than one year after he came, as the indentures 
 were not made until the 24th of January 1781, of 
 which the following is a true copy : 
 
 ' This indenture witnesseth that we the subscri- 
 bers. Selectmen of the town of Wrentham, within 
 
 the County of Suffolk, and Commonwealth of Mas- 
 3 
 
24 MEMOIRS. 
 
 sachusetts, with the assent of two Justices of the 
 Peace for said County, have put and placed, and by 
 these presents do put and place Royal Bragg,^ son 
 of Royal Bragg, a poor child as an apprentice to 
 Alexander Bragg of Wrentham aforesaid, said 
 yeoman, to learn the art of husbandry, as shall be 
 necessary for such an apprentice, with the said 
 Alexander Bragg to serve, abide and remain, until 
 he shall arrive at the age of sixteen years, all which 
 time, or term, his master he shall faithfully serve, 
 his secrets keep close, and his lawful commands 
 gladly do and obey'; he shall not do any damage to 
 his master, nor allow any to be done by others, 
 without giving notice thereof to him. He shall not 
 waste, perloin, or embezzel the goods, or estate of 
 his master, nor lend them unlawful to any ; he 
 shall not practice unlawful games, nor haunt 
 places of debaucheries, nor be at any time from 
 family order, without the consent of his master, 
 during said term of service, as aforesaid, but in all 
 things carry and behave himself as a dutiful, faith- 
 ful and obedient apprentice ought to do during the 
 said term. 
 
 And the said master, doth hereby promise and 
 engage to find and provide for the said apprentice, 
 good wholesome meat, drink, washing, lodging, 
 suitable apparel, and all other things necessary, 
 
 * ArJal Bragg, erroneously called Royal Bragg. 
 
MEMOIRS. 25 
 
 both in sickness and health, during the term of his 
 service as aforesaid, and to teach and instruct said 
 apprentice in husbandry business, and also to teach 
 or cause him to be taught in reading, writing and 
 Arithmetic, so much as shall be necessary for him, 
 if he be capable to learn, and at the expiration of 
 said term of his service, to dismiss said apprentice 
 well clothed with two good suits of apparel for all 
 parts of his body both woolen and linen, as is 
 generally used; one suit for Sabbath days, the other 
 for working days suitable to his quality. 
 
 In testimony whereof, the parties have to this 
 indenture interchangeably set their hand and seals 
 this twenty-fourth day of January, A. D. 1781, in 
 the fifth year of the Independence of the United 
 States of America. 
 
 Signed, sealed and delivered in presence of us, 
 Elijah Farrington, 
 Joanna Pond. 
 
 Jno. Hall, 
 
 Lewis Whitney, 
 
 Robert Blake, 
 
 Nathan Blake. 
 Consented to — Jabez Fisher, Just, of the Peace. 
 Benj. Guile, Just, of the Peace, consented. 
 
 It will be seen by the foregoing copy of the in- 
 denture, made by the Selectmen of Wrentham, 
 binding a poor child, son of one of the defenders 
 
 of their liberty and independence to Alexander 
 
 . 3^ 
 
26 MEMOIHS. 
 
 Bragg, without even having his name on the in- 
 denture, leaving Alexander to take advantage of 
 the poor soldier's child. This he was at all times 
 careful to do. He did not take much advantage in 
 the first part of the time of his apprentice, for his 
 age deprived him of the means. But he was care- 
 ful not to give him an education, either through 
 neglect or designedly. He made no scruples by 
 falsehood and every deception his evil heart could 
 devise, to take all advantage that came in his way, 
 which youth had not the courage, nor ignorance 
 the power to dispute. Alexander Bragg was not 
 the worst man in all points ; he was selfish for 
 want of means, small for want of mind to look be- 
 yond tomorrow. He never sought for anything he 
 could not obtain to day. He was shrewd in trade; 
 no one made money out of him. He was shiftless 
 to a proverb in his way of doing business, as well 
 as that of living ; he would borrow until his neigh- 
 bors were tired of lending, and when a small stock 
 was procured, run again to pay. He was a kind 
 neighbor, attentive to the sick ; naturally peevish 
 and fretful. While he lived on the farm purchased 
 with the money his father in law, John Fisher, 
 gave his daughters, his estate continued to waste 
 away, no one directly knew how. In seven years 
 he was compelled to sell his place as before said, to 
 Ebenezer Littlefield. In his way of living about 
 
MEMOIRS. 27 
 
 all liQ had by his second wife was gone at his 
 death. 
 
 Arial Hved with his uncle Alexander from the 
 12th of January 1780, \intil the 24th of January 
 1781, when he was bound as a poor child, which 
 may be seen by the foregoing copy of the inden- 
 ture. From that time until the 8th of March 1785, 
 he had no material cause of complaint. Whether 
 his kind treatment from his master can be attribut- 
 ed to the circumstance of living in the same house 
 with his grandfather Fisher and his mother, we 
 will leave for others to judge. It is enough to say 
 that it was altogether different after he removed 
 with his master to Holliston. His schooling was 
 neglected, and as to his clothes, it can scarcely be 
 said he had any. If any excuse could be offered, 
 it would gladly be done ; the most we can say in 
 his favor is his three daughters, as they advanced 
 in age, became more expensive, and for the waot 
 of forethought and sound or common sense, his 
 means diminished. 
 
 From the age of sixteen to that of eighteen and 
 «ight months, he had but one shirt at a time, and 
 that would become so mutilated with patches, that 
 at was difficult to determine with any certainty, 
 which was a part of the original, with other cloth- 
 ing in connection with his shirt. To show clearly 
 Siis masters inattention to his absolute and indis- 
 4 
 
28 MEMOIRS. 
 
 peiisable vvanls, at the age of fifteen years and four 
 months he sent him with a horse which was traded 
 for with a nian who was not the owner, to Luther 
 Bragg, four miles West of Keene, N. H. there to 
 leave the horse, and return on foot a stranger to all 
 the way except six miles, without giving him one 
 cent to spend on the way ; nor did he ever name 
 the thing, as the man his master had the horse of 
 was worthless, and the owner was in search for 
 him, there was no time to loose. He started early 
 on the second morning after the thing was known, 
 with a small bag of oats laid on behind him for the 
 horse, but not a cent for himself; he travelled fifty 
 miles to Petersham, w^here he had a brother with 
 whom he staid that night — took supper, lodging and 
 breakfast, and left early for his uncle Luther's be- 
 ing forty-four miles the way that he went, where 
 he arrived the same night without any refreshment 
 on the way ; left next morning and found his way 
 back to Keene street at 12 o'clock A. M. ; called on 
 his aunt Polly and his grandmother, who resided 
 with her daughter Polly Field; who was then bak- 
 ing at a little past 1 o'clock P. M. They took from 
 the oven some small round rye and Indian cakes, 
 of which he partook, some warm bread and butter 
 as they then called it. They asked him no ques- 
 tions concerning his }7ast, present, or future con- 
 cerns, and he thoudit it best soon to be off. At 3 
 
MEMOIRS. 29 
 
 o'clock started on his forty miles tramp, to his 
 brothers in Petersham, under a strong conviction 
 that his future calls on his grandmother and aunt, 
 would be short and far between. He travelled till 
 dark, slept for a time in a barn by the way side, 
 and whilst it was dark he started on. The road he 
 went was through the towns of Swanzey, Rich- 
 mond, Royalston and Athol to Petersham, where he 
 arrived about 4 o'clock P. M. weary and hungry, 
 having fasted thirty-three hours. 
 
 The next morning after breakfast, not consider- 
 ing that he had fifty miles to travel on foot, with no 
 means to subsist but on the charity of the public, 
 he spent the morning until 10 o'clock, when he 
 made his way home. At night found himself in 
 Shrewsbury — asked permission and was admitted 
 to sleep on a bed made on the floor, a small way 
 East of the meeting-house. In the morning after 
 walking about seven miles towards Westborough, 
 his appetite was too strong to be dispensed with ; 
 and he called at a house on the South side of the 
 road, and the East side of a small river, and asked 
 for something to eat ; they were out of bread, and 
 were baking, but the good woman found a small 
 piece of bread which she put in a pint of milk 
 which he ate, and after walking sixteen miles fur- 
 ther, found himself at home at 3 o'clock P. M. 
 
 At sixteen years of age, he was falsely told by 
 
30 MEMOIRS. 
 
 his pretended master that he was bound to him by 
 his mother until twenty-one years old, to learn the 
 trade of Shoemaking. Believing that to be true, 
 he contented himself the best way he could until 
 March 1771, being eighteen years and eight months 
 old. He then began seriously to reflect on his situ- 
 ation, and the many injuries he believed that he 
 had suffered from the hand of his pretended mas- 
 ter, and expostulated with him in the following 
 manner : — 
 
 Where is that silk handkerchief, bought at Bos- 
 on, by my aunt Rhoda Fisher with the money that 
 I received of Landlord Mann for Patridges, caught 
 in the woods when but eleven years old, which cost 
 seventy-five cents, and which I never had the pleas- 
 ure to take into my hands ? Where is the money 
 I received for all the Patridges and Hares that you 
 borrowed ? And where is the money I lent you, 
 received of Richard Lethbridge of Franklin, and 
 of Mrs. Bullen of Medway, for fish taken from 
 Wrentham Pond, when on errands with leave to 
 stay, by fishing all night, to say nothing of the four 
 I brought to you whilst the rain came down in tor- 
 rents ? And above all, where are my nine sheep, 
 due three years since, the natural increase after 
 paying for keeping of the lamb pointed out by my 
 grandfather John Fisher ? And a fine one it was, 
 for which I paid to you that identical English crown 
 
MEMOIRS. 31 
 
 piece given to me by my father when he left me 
 for West Point, from which place he never return- 
 ed. And where is that bushel of rye which I 
 earned by reaping for William Mellen, after faith- 
 fully doing the five days stent you gave me hoeing 
 potatoes in new land ? And why have you neglect- 
 ed to clothe me ? Have I not served you faithful- 
 ly ? And have you not let me out by the day since 
 I could do a man's work, instead of learning me 
 the trade you said you would, when you told me 
 my mother had bound me to you for that purpose ? 
 Answer these questions if you please master Bragg. 
 The handkerchief you bought with your money, 
 my daughter Jemima wore out The money you 
 received for your morning, evening and midnight 
 labors which I borrowed, I have honestly paid you 
 three coppers of George the second's, which you 
 spent at Ephraim Littlefield's March meeting day. 
 The^sheep I sold five of them to Simeon Littlefield, 
 killed the other four and ate them. The rye I re- 
 ceived of William Mellen on settlement, and have 
 consumed it. As to paying your honest dues, and 
 clothing you as I ought, I was so negligent in re- 
 gard to justice, and shiftless in my business — at- 
 tending so much to my neighbors, that I did not do 
 either. But I have brought you up, or rather to be 
 honest, you come up yourself. I certainly have 
 taught you good economy, when I gave you a se« 
 
32 MEMOIRS. 
 
 vere scolding one morning before it was light when 
 on the way to reap for Thaddeus Lovering, for 
 wearing your meeting hat that cost four shillings, 
 instead of wearing your every day hat. I know 
 the crown was off and your hair stuck out at the 
 top. I do not know but you have served me as 
 faithfully as boys in general, and I believe that I 
 have let you out to work now and then to the 
 neighbors in the busy season of the year ; let me 
 think — why yes. You have worked some days 
 for John Kilborn, for Andrew Watkins, for Asa 
 Rockwood, for Thaddeus Lovering, for Jason 
 Chamberlain, for William Chamberlain, for Reu- 
 ben Fairbanks, for Asa Nocross, for Elisha Adams, 
 for William Mellen, for Ezra Brown, for Dr. Josh- 
 ua Richardson, for Timothy Rockwood, and about 
 twenty days for Nathan Perry of Hopkinton, get- 
 ting hay for Simeon Cutler, and John Claflin but 
 one day reaping in Hopkinton, and some days for 
 Capt Staples Chamberlain, to pay for corn I often 
 had of him at three and six pence per bushel, in- 
 stead of keeping what I raised for my own use, 
 which I sold in the fall for two shillings and eight 
 pence per bushel ; for Asa Leland, for Capt. Lov- 
 ering, and Enoch Chamberlain. Since you have 
 been so kind as to labor where and when I wanted 
 to have you, instead of learning the trade which I 
 never was well acquainted with myself, 1 will get 
 
MEMOIRS. 33 
 
 you clothing if you will go out to work and earn 
 the money. 
 
 Now this controversy being ended, Arial took his 
 pretended master at his word, and went to Brook - 
 line, the last of March 1891, and let himself to 
 John Goddard, to work on his farm six months at 
 six dollars per month ; returned and was furnished 
 with two shirts, and a long linen and tow frock, 
 and on the the 'eleventh of April at the rising of 
 the sun, with a small bundle in his hand, walked 
 twenty-six miles to John Goddard 's in Brookline, 
 ate his dinner and went to work at half past 1 P. 
 M., Goddard being too much of an Aristocrat, for 
 a Democrat to dwell with. 
 
 Mr. Goddard worked his men hard and kept them 
 poor — gave them skim milk and bread for break- 
 fast, and when set before Arial the thing so much 
 offended him that he threw the puter quart bason, 
 bread, milk, spoon and all on the kitchen floor. — 
 This so much exasperated the old man, that he 
 proposed to settle, which was gladly accepted. Af- 
 ter settlement the old man, who was sixty years 
 old, became more calm, and invited Arial to stop 
 over night, and take breakfast, which he accepted , 
 considering it good policy to quarter on his enemy. 
 In the morning being Tuesday, let himself to 
 Samuel Griggs, for five months at five dollars and 
 sixty cents per month, and walked home the same 
 day with the money received of John Goddard ; 
 
34 MEMOIRS. 
 
 since which time his pocket has never been entire- 
 ly empty. 
 
 Friday walked to Samuel Griggs,' and Saturday 
 commenced work — finished his five months to the 
 satisfaction of all concerned. Returned home and 
 paid over the money to his pretended master, and 
 received such clothing as was thought proper; spent 
 the winter as usual in the service of his pretended 
 master. 
 
 April Alexander proposed to Arial, on the receipt 
 of thirty dollars being paid him, he would relin- 
 quish forever any further claims on his services, 
 and that his house should be his home, and his 
 family should manufacture his clothing, he finding 
 the raw materials. He not having any where to 
 lay his head, and no friend on whom to rely in 
 case of sickness, and viewing a home of great 
 value, did consent to pay the thirty dollars as soon 
 as he should earn it. Arial's pulse now beat high 
 and quick ; he felt relieved from manacles that had 
 too long bound his hands to the service of a dis- 
 honest master. He had in some measure got the 
 use of tools used in shoe business, and was at this 
 time but a poor workman ; but liking the business 
 he first sought employment of Joseph Wares of 
 Medway, who with a most contemptible sneer 
 answered he had no occasion. This went like 
 a dagger to his heart. To labor on a farm was 
 
MEMOIRS. 35 
 
 more than he could think of. In the medita- 
 tions of his thoughts he remembered when at 
 Samuel Griggs' in Brookline the year past, hearing 
 Samuel Slack say that Jonas Tolman had hired a 
 man to work for him at Shoemaking, and the man 
 neglected so to do, which was the first intimation he 
 ever had that one Shoemaker employed another, as 
 such cases did not exist at that time in the country; 
 and there was not, he believes, a Shoe Store in the 
 town of Boston at that time. Not being willing to 
 give up the ship to the first squall that struck her, 
 to push his fourtune, he packed up his duds swung 
 his pack and was off for Brookline. Called on 
 Tolman who was then in want of help ; would 
 give four shillings for making boots, and two for 
 shoes, twelve cents for tapping and heeling — ^jour- 
 neymen paying one dollar per week for board and 
 Tolman the rest ; board was eight shillings per 
 week at the best houses. He went to work first at 
 poor shoes made from remnants, but in eight weeks 
 was able to suit Tolman's most difficult customers. 
 Times now went well — by working hard could 
 clear seven dollars per month; remitted twenty 
 dollars to Alexander Bragg the third day of Sept. 
 1792, went into Dr. Aspin wall's Hospital, was 
 vaccinated with the Small Pox, which at this time 
 was rapidly spreading through the country. The 
 inabitants of Boston had then past a vote to let it 
 
36 MEMOIRS. 
 
 spread through town. It would have been almost 
 impossible to have remained in Boston or any oth- 
 er place in the country, without taking the Small 
 Pox, which he greatly feared should he take it the 
 natural way, he would have no chance for his life, 
 which was the principal cause of his going into the 
 Hospital, which must have offended his master 
 Bragg, as it delayed his receiving the balance that 
 he said was due him. He was willing a man 
 should put his life in imminent danger, rather than 
 the payment of the paltry sum of five or ten dol- 
 lars should be delayed a few days, which other- 
 wise would have been lost to him forever. 
 
 After thirty-one days Arial was allowed to leave 
 the Hospital, the pleasure of which none but him- 
 self can ever know. No one could leave the Hos- 
 pital until he was thoroughly cleansed, as the Dr. 
 was under bonds to the town of Brookline of one 
 hundred pounds for each and every one that should 
 take the Small Pox of one of his patients, without 
 the limits assigned to his pest house. He bore the 
 disease with patience and fortitude, rejoicing that 
 he had been vaccinated — although he was extreme- 
 ly afflicted, being blind four days, and deprived 
 swallowing even any liquids for five days on ac- 
 count of the pock full in his throat ; he was cov- 
 ered from the top of his head, down to his waist, 
 and when full, formed but one scab. This disease 
 
MEMOIRS? 37 
 
 would have undoubtedly proved fatal to him, had 
 it not been for William Ware, a young gentleman 
 from Hopkinton, who was in the Hospital at the 
 same time, whose kind care and tender treatment, 
 be it said to his praise, laid Arial under obligations 
 never to be paid, and it grieves him to the heart 
 when he reflects that William has long since paid 
 the debt of nature. 
 
 The rules of the Hospital were absolute and 
 strictly enforced. Heat you was not allowed, cold 
 you might avoid ; no meat, salt, butter, or any kind 
 of grease were allowed. Skim milk, bread, mo- 
 lasses, sugar, all kinds of green sauce, and fruit 
 well cooked might be taken at pleasure; all of 
 which rules Arial strictly attended to. A few of 
 the first days he fed on boiled rice and skim milk ; 
 for seven days on sweet baked apples and milk, the 
 latter part of the time on hasty pudding and milk ; 
 for twenty-eight days never tasted either butter, 
 meat, or salt, except a little salt in the pudding the 
 latter part of the time. The twenty-ninth day of 
 his confinement he discovered a door open; on look- 
 ing found it led to a celler — descended the stairs 
 and found the celler well stored with roast beef, 
 lamb, bread, butter, pies, and every thing a man in 
 his situation could desire. From this abundant 
 store of good things, he thought it no sin to take 
 one mouthful, as he did not allow himself but 
 3 
 
38 MEMOIRS. 
 
 one. On the thirtieth day repeated the operation, 
 and taking the same measure twice told, and on 
 the thirty-first day of the same rate of measure- 
 ment, filled his mouth three times, and made his 
 escape without being observed either time by any 
 one under the roof. The afternoon following left 
 the pest house for one more congenial to his feel- 
 ings ; it was that of the noble and generous heart- 
 ed Benjamin Davis, whose wife was young with 
 beauty, and character unrivalled, to which we may 
 add his widowed mother, whose motherly feelings 
 were equally extended to all, rich or poor, high or 
 low — she was a mother indeed. 
 
 Arial returned to his work for Jonas Tolman, in 
 thirty-eight days, and to Jonathan Dana's his old 
 boarding place. In forty-five days after the hurry 
 of the season was over, and but little to do, he be- 
 gan to look about and learn if possible what might 
 be best for him to do when his engagement with 
 Tolman should be out ; for that purpose he had re- 
 course to the following enquiry : — Why do you not 
 make calf shoes for Providence market ? John 
 Howe, a speculator in leather wished to go to Provi- 
 dence, advised Tolman so to do. Tolman believ- 
 ing all that was said, cut forty pair of shoes, had 
 them made, went to Providence with John Howe. 
 Tolman sold his shoes at one dollar per pair, the 
 same price he was told by Arial they would bring. 
 
MEMOIRS. 39 
 
 John Howe bought much leather of Mr. Draper a 
 Tanner, in Attleborough, and who had a brother 
 two miles South of him who was a Currier. Re- 
 turned, was satisfied from whom Arial learned who 
 bought shoes, and who sold leather — after close 
 calculation found to work for the market far better 
 than journey work. 
 
 After sending five dollars more to his pretended 
 master, making twenty-five dollars in all, instead 
 of thirty, for which he ever regretted he had paid 
 any part. Things began to look to him in their 
 true light ; that his master as he called him, had 
 acted under false colors, and was no better then a 
 land pirate ; he had also sold his place and had 
 none for himself, by which Arial was deprived of 
 that home promised him in consideration of money 
 paid ; and as to having his clothing made by the 
 family, he had lost all hope, and indeed never re-- 
 ceived any favor to the value of one inch of thread J. 
 After settling with Tolman, paying his Tailor and^ 
 Doctor's bill, left Brookline for Holliston, the ih- 
 habitants of which place were an honest, indusiri-- 
 ous people — had but little knowledge of human na^- 
 ture, and of course were superstitious, which h©- 
 never discovered, although brought up among tkem^. 
 •until he returned from Brookline, a more intelligent- 
 people, but now far behind many sections of the 
 
 country. 
 
 3# 
 
40 MEMOIRS. 
 
 After arriving at Holliston with ten dollars in his 
 pocket, with a few clothes, he made all possible 
 enquiries for board throughout all his old neigh- 
 borhood. Not finding one that would trust him 
 for three week's board, he sank down in despair, 
 and resolved to return, and there in solitude to la- 
 bor till his flesh should cleave to his bones, rather 
 than be denied so small a favor through fear of 
 non-payment. As he was about to leave, Asa 
 Rockwood came in, or rather his wife sent him, as 
 she wore the breeches, as the vulgar saying is, al- 
 though she was twice as large as himself, who 
 said " I and my wife if you wish, have concluded 
 to find you room and board for one dollar per week, 
 provided that you will pay at the end of three 
 weeks, as we shall have but three in the family 
 then." This was assented to ; hired a horse of 
 Abel Fisk of Hopkinton, went to Brookline, paid 
 two dollars and fifty cents for tools ; bought of 
 John Howe, forty pounds of sole leather on credit, 
 and thought it a large stock. Returned with his 
 leather and tools, and commenced boarding with 
 Asa Rockwood the 19th of April 1793 ; bought of 
 Simeon Cutler one Calfskin, and three of his son, 
 paid seven dollars for the four skins, from which 
 he made twenty-two pairs of shoes ; hired a horse 
 for fifty cents, bought a bag of hay of John Claflin, 
 paid ten cents, and with his twenty-two pair of 
 
MEMOIRS. 41 
 
 shoes in saddle bags, and his bag of hay bound on 
 behind him, before the sun had risen was off for 
 Providence — stopped one and half mile North of 
 Providence bridge, gave hay to his horse, and with 
 one pair of shoes in his hand, and the saddle bags 
 on his back, marched on. When going on to the 
 bridge saw two men standing by the way side, 
 when one of them called out — " Have you shoes 
 to sell ?" The respond was, I have. " How many?" 
 Twenty-two pairs. " What do you ask ?" One 
 dollar per pair — looking at them, said — "I will give 
 you twenty-one dollars and fifty cents." You shall 
 have them said he — took the money, returned to 
 his horse, found him refreshed, when he mounted 
 and rode direct to Mr. Draper's in Attleborough, of 
 whom he had heard when at Brookline. Bought 
 six Calfskins — rode to Thurston's Tavern in Frank- 
 lin, gave his horse the hay that remained, and ar- 
 rived home one hour after sun down the same day; 
 paid three week's board, and for his horse, and 
 found that eight dollars would remain for his three 
 week's work, which was far better than seven dol- 
 lars per month at Brookline, where the inhabitants 
 thought it beneath their dignity to hold conversa- 
 tion with their hired help, or a journeyman shoe- 
 maker — Mr. John Howe, Mr. Jonathan Dana, and 
 ♦he noble hearted Benjamm Davis, excepted. 
 Continued to manufacture shoes until he had 
 
42 MEMOIRS. 
 
 accumulated eighty dollars, when he spent forty 
 dollars for clothing. Went to Brookline where he 
 bought a first rate silver watch of Jonas Tolman. 
 Returned home — took supper, walked over to Eph- 
 raim Littlefield's where there was a poppet show 
 as they called it ; found there among them a young 
 man by the name of William Phipps, who from an 
 -envious disposition, or otherwise, took occasion to 
 say that he thought a watch would be the first 
 thing that fop of a Bragg would have. Is it not 
 enough to say he paid for the watch when he 
 bought it, and owed no man a cent? He continued 
 in this small way of business until April the first 
 1794, left and went to board with Asa Nocross. 
 Worked at Shoemaking, and July the first com- 
 menced and worked four weeks at haying for Asa 
 Nocross, for fifteen dollars, then at shoes again. In 
 October hired Bethuel Ellis for one year an accom- 
 plished workman, for eighty-dollars the year. In 
 Jan. went to board with Elias Lovering. In April 
 following hired Jonathan Bryant one year for nine- 
 ty dollars. On the 19th of October 1795 re- 
 moved into a small house hired of Aaron Phipps, 
 it being the first house in the North East part of 
 Milford, on the County road, leading to Boston, 
 where he boarded himself and men by the help of 
 his mother, who did his house work. This move 
 was on account of the mhabitanfs at this time he- 
 4 
 
MEMOIRS. 43 
 
 ing strangers to money-making by taking boarders. 
 Bethuel Ellis' time being out, he hired him for one 
 year more at one hundred and forty-four dollars ; 
 continued manufacturing Calfskin shoes until April, 
 when Bryant's time was out, settled and paid him 
 and all other demands; and on strict enquiry, found 
 he had cleared with his own labor but one dollar 
 and seventy-five cents, which he considered poor 
 wages for six months, when he proposed to Ellis 
 that he should shift his business from that of Call 
 shoes, to that of making negro shoes, to which El- 
 lis readily consented. Bought stock and went to 
 work for the slaves of the South ; little regard be- 
 ing paid to the quality either of stock, or work, as 
 Ellis closed forty pairs in a day, and made five 
 pair a day, while Arial what time he had beside 
 cutting, would make eight pairs per day. In the 
 course of the fall hired Benjamin Bullard one 
 month — paid him twenty dollars. At the end of 
 six months sold out, and on settlement of this ne- 
 gro concern, found he had cleared in six months 
 past, three hundred and fifty dollars. Made Calf 
 shoes through the winter ; sold out in spring at but 
 little more than cost — the cost of board for eighteen 
 months past, including house rent at nineteen dol- 
 lars per year, and wood for the house and shop at 
 one dollar and twenty-five cents per cord, eight feet 
 wood. Rye one dollar and twenty-five cents; corn 
 
44 
 
 MEM0IR9. 
 
 at one dollar per bushel ; pork eight cents by the 
 hog per pound ; beef on the foot from the drove 
 five dollars and fifty cents per hundred; butter one 
 shilling per pound ; cheese eight cents ; cofi'ee 
 thirty-three ; bohea tea thirty ; sugar eleven cents, 
 with other necessaries common in a family much 
 the same price as at this day, making in the total 
 one dollar and four cents a head per week. 
 
 In 1796 married Sibbel Nocross, and on the first 
 day of April 1797 removed with his wife and moth- 
 er, and twelve hundred dollars, to a house in Mil- 
 ford, owned and occupied in part by Nathan Park- 
 hurst. Business at this time became dull. Boots 
 and shoes made this season, could be sold at cost 
 no other way than on time. The first of April 
 1798, removed with wife and mother and one child 
 to the house of Elisha Parkhurst, where he resided 
 one year. From the first of June to the last of 
 July the dysentary prevailed to an alarming degree. 
 In the short time of ninety days, about forty died 
 out of the town of Milford, which contained at that 
 time, about eight hundred souls. Those that died 
 mostly were small children. His son was taken 
 with this most fatal disease the first of July. In 
 three days after, his wife was violently seized with 
 the same disorder, and lingered under a distressing 
 sickness, until 3 o'clock on the morning of the 
 sixteenth of July. After taking her farewell of 
 
MEMOIRS, 45 
 
 the partner of her bosom, and her little son, who 
 she resigned to the care of her husband, she in 
 calm resignation exchanged her earthly state for 
 that of everlasting. In the death of his wife, he 
 was inconsolable ; he had no friend to whom he 
 could impart his trouble. He was broken down 
 in business ; he had now no object to stimulate him 
 to action. Business was not only bad, but grew 
 worse every day. Money was not to be had, and 
 he who owed one dollar and had not more than 
 double that amount in stock, at former prices could 
 not pay his debts. He was at this time owing six 
 hundred dollars, and had paid no attention to col- 
 lecting his debts, or disposing what little goods 
 were on hand, until January 1799, when he was 
 called on by Ephraim Chapin, to whom money was 
 due, which brought him to see his present situa- 
 tion. Paying his debts was ever dear to him, as 
 he never had a note given on time overlay the day 
 of payment. With due dilligence, he set himself 
 about collecting his debts ; the more he looked af- 
 ter his creditors, the more he found them unable to 
 pay. But after due dilligence not only in collect- 
 ing as well as selling all his effects, did on the first 
 day of April pay the last cent he owed to any hu- 
 man being, leaving him with some small articles, 
 not to the value of more than fifty dollars, which 
 
 "A'as all that remained of his twelve hundred doN 
 ■I* 
 
46 MEMOIRS. 
 
 lars, and the loss of two year's tinie, with his moth- 
 er on his hands who was feeble and destitute. He 
 returned on the last week in March all his house- 
 hold goods, with few exceptions, to his wife's fath- 
 er, from whom they came, and with them his little 
 son ; his dear mother he boarded out with Moses 
 Hiscock, at his own expense, but left not the house 
 himself until the last day of March 1779. At 9 
 o'clock in the evening took lodgings at Stephen 
 Kilborns ; at 2 o'clock in the morning was called to 
 the burning of Phineas Eames' house, and shock- 
 ing to relate, on coming to the house found the 
 sides falling in with Mr. E's. two apprentices at 
 the cabinet work, viz : Turner and Hayward with 
 his little son about six years old, which lay burning 
 in the flames ! The same day came to board with 
 Daniel Hemingway in Holliston, where he soon 
 sunk into despondency. He brooded over all his 
 misfortunes — his all was gone, and he could not 
 forget the irreparable loss of his wife ; and himself 
 almost twenty and seven years old, lonely and pen- 
 nyless ! By these circumstances he was taught to 
 know that the present time is all that man can 
 boast. Vain pride is but a bubble that breaks at 
 death. 
 
 What you think right , that do to day, 
 Come liCe or death, come when it may ' 
 
 In the iiiii part of May 1799, went a jouiney to- 
 
MEMOIRS. 47 
 
 Hardwick, to pay some taxes on land in that town 
 for Josiah Nelson and Nathan Parkhurst. In this 
 journey he had the company of Miss Elizabeth 
 Chamberlain to her brothers, William Chamberlain 
 in Rockingham. On his return his journey had 
 in some measure revived his spirits ; and under 
 pressing demands for means to live on, he went in- 
 to business with Hamlelt Barber, June 26th. They 
 hired two men and a boy between them, and manu- 
 factured boots and shoes ; were not absent from 
 their seats little or none till the first of April 1800, 
 when they closed up their business ; then he found 
 he had three hundred dollars cash on hand, besides 
 paying seventy dollars for his mother's board, cloth- 
 ing, and carrying her to her daughter Lincolns in 
 Vermont, exclusive of what she had done binding 
 shoes. June following he went a journey with 
 James Barber, to see his brother Willard in N. Y., 
 but of the town and County he then resided in, if 
 living, he knew not. Barber went with him to 
 Whitestown, Utica, Rome, Newhafford, and down 
 the Unidily, enquiring for Willard Bragg of all 
 they met. After the search became almost hope- 
 less, they met a man, to whom they put this ques- 
 tion — Do you know any man by the name of Bragg 
 in this County ? *' I do not, but go to the next 
 house, there is a man that knows all things ; he 
 can tell you." We soon came to the man plough- 
 
48 
 
 MEMOIRS. 
 
 ing among corn ; as he came to the road we ac- 
 costed him thus— Are you the man that knows all 
 things ? We met a man that said you did. " I 
 think he is mistaken." Well Sir, do you know a 
 man by the name of Bragg? " Bragg, Bragg, I 
 do not." But you go to the next house, they can 
 tell you ; there is a young man there that came in- 
 to this neighborhood this Spring." I asked him 
 who made his pants ? " Mrs. Bragg." They 
 found the young man who said Wiliard Bragg 
 was at the German Flats, when he left. They 
 retraced their steps— found his brother and his 
 wife all well. On their return Arial visited his 
 two sisters in Wilmington, Vt. which was the first 
 time but one he ever saw his sister Eunice. 
 
 Returned to HoUiston, manufactured shoes, un- 
 til November 1801, when he sailed from Boston for 
 
 Baltimore, with shoes and many other articles. 
 
 Being well prepared for manufacturing in that 
 place, for that purpose hired James Barber to go 
 with him. But finding that place not so promising 
 as he expected, sold his goods and returned by land 
 the last of December. Manufactured shoes till the 
 Fall of 1802. Sold his shoes and opened a small 
 Store of English and West India Goods, which 
 business he followed for two years. 
 
 On the eighth day of March 1803 bought him a 
 small farm in Milford of Capt. Perry Daniels, and 
 
MEMOIRS, 49 
 
 on the tenth day married Elizabeth Chamberlain of 
 Hoiliston, daughter of Enoch Chamberlain. Let 
 his house for two years, and lived with his wife in 
 the house with Daniel Hemingway, with whom he 
 had boarded some years — carrying on his farm 
 himself until the last of March 1805, when he re- 
 moved on to his farm and set out an orchard of 
 Apple trees, which were quite small. Hired Isaac 
 Kibee of Medway. and Luther Pumroy of North- 
 ampton to make shoes; cut their work and attended 
 to his farm. Finding much difficulty in buying 
 good butter, he bought pasture land, kept four cows 
 and a horse for family use, and to do his work on 
 the farm. Increased his business at shoes by an 
 addition of one man yearly until 1809, when he 
 curtailed his business and built him a house, forty 
 by thirty-two, with a kitchen thirty-two by nine- 
 teen, and wood house thirty by sixteen, all joining 
 each other, for the purpose of boarding twelve men 
 if wanted, as all journeymen shoemakers were 
 single men, and no married men at that day work- 
 ed journey work. But ere long he found that he 
 had made a gross mistake. Journeymen soon be- 
 gan to get married, when not many except married 
 men were to be hired. Being disappointed in the 
 use of the house, "did from time to time, as circum- 
 stances offered, fill his house with thirteen of his 
 own children.. He niored into his ^e^y house in 
 
50 MEMOIRS. 
 
 September ; a little more than one year after, his 
 mother sickened, and died on the fourth day of 
 November 1810, aged sixty-six years. Continued 
 his shoe business in a small shop taken from his 
 old house. 
 
 In 1805 moved across the way with an addition 
 to its length of six feet, cost of which was fifty 
 dollars. In 1816, built him a barn fifty by thirty 
 feet, which was raised on the first day of June, and 
 on the second he was called to the bed side, under 
 a most afflicting scene, even that of witnessing his 
 beloved wife's eyes closed in death ! She had 
 brought him five sons and two daughters, who 
 with him mourned the loss of the best of mothers, 
 by the. fatal disease consumption. Under this af- 
 flicting scene he felt himself under double obliga- 
 tions of being not only a father to his children, but 
 a mother. Having now eight children on his 
 hands, with the one by his first wife, there was no 
 time to loose in providing for his children, and ob- 
 taining a suitable woman to take charge of the 
 family concerns generally. In a short time he had 
 the good fortune to agree with the widow Corbett, 
 of Hopkinton, who looked well to the concerns of 
 the house, and particulary to that of his children. 
 She continued until August the twenty-fifth, 1817, 
 the day he married Nancy Cutler, daughter of 
 Henry 3I?lkn, 'vho has brought hmi three ^ons and 
 
MEMOIRS. 51 
 
 two daughters. Eleven of his children are now 
 living, and all married. Sally died February 10, 
 1S23, aged twenty-one months and four days. — 
 Newell died March 18, 1826, aged seventeen 
 months and eighteen days. 
 
 In 1819, built him a new shop which cost two 
 hundred and sixty dollars, and removed the old 
 shop to be used as a corn barn ; but it was not suf- 
 fered long to be used for such a noble purpose, but 
 was removed for the third time to where it now 
 stands, at the expense of fifty dollars. 
 
 The names of his children and day of their 
 birth are as follows : — 
 
 Maynard, son of his first wife, January 13, 1797. 
 Almira, daughter of his second wife, Oct 11, 1803. 
 Appleton, son <' *^ " April 3, 1805. 
 
 Fowler, son " " " June 15, 1807. 
 
 Emely, daughter " <' " Jan. 23, 1809. 
 
 Alfred, son " " " July 10, 1811. 
 
 Arial, son " " " May 24, 1813. 
 
 Willard, son " " " April 10, 1815. 
 
 Alexis & Elizabeth of the third wife. May 20, 1818. 
 Mellen C. son '< " « Nov. 19, 1819. 
 
 Sally, daughter " *' " May 6, 1822. 
 
 Newell, son " " " Oct. 1, 1824. 
 
 Number of acres of his farm — time, cost, and of 
 whom bought. 
 
^ MEMOIRS. 
 
 Twenty-eiglit rods of Daniel Hemmg- 
 
 way, April 1803, _ - o, 
 
 Nine acres and 100 rods of James Perry, 
 
 March 15, 1805, - - 1^0,00 
 
 Thirteen acres and 68 rods of Walter Bui- 
 
 lard, December 14, 1805, - 180,00 
 
 Six acres and SO rods of Aaron Bullard, 
 
 December 14, 1805, - - 90^75 
 
 Nine acres of Jonathan Bullard, October 
 
 25,1806, - - - ^"^'^^ 
 
 One acre 134 rods of Abner Pond, June 1, 
 
 1806, - - • - ^^'^^ 
 Ten acres of Elias Lovering, December 28, 
 
 1807, - - • ■ ^^"'"^ 
 Eight acres of Enoch Chamberlain and son, 
 
 ^ December 25, 1808, - - 180,00 
 
 Eighty. eight acres and 53 rods of John Lit- 
 
 " tlefield, August 12, 1816, - 2200,00 
 
 Eleven acres 90 rods of James Cutler, May 
 
 10,1828, - - - 2^7 '^"^ 
 
 One acre and horse of Deborah Kilborn, 
 
 April 5, 1831,- ■ - 140,00 
 
 One acre of Maynard Bragg, March 28, ^^^^^^ 
 1835, - * * ' 
 
 Total No of acres-178 73 rods-Do 
 
 cost, - " ^5 
 
 The buildings he has erected on his farm with 
 
MEMOIRS. 53 
 
 some small repairs, the cost of which in 1835, was 
 $5,152 have suffered many heavy losses, a natural 
 consequence in so long a run of business most of 
 which was occasioned by accommodation to others, 
 and he flatters himself that those who follow him, 
 may be more scruplous in doing good. From his 
 own experience he lays it down as a maxim, that 
 no man can help another in the way of business, 
 who has not given strong evidence, that he has by 
 all the means in his power helped himself, and 
 paid strict regard to justice, truth and economy in 
 all his transactions. 
 
 He has performed military duty twenty-nine 
 years at his own expense ; has held a Commission 
 in every grade, from Ensign to Colonel Command- 
 er of a Regim^ent. Has been agent for his town 
 in long contested, and incorrigible litigations ; has 
 done for many years much of his town's business ; 
 gave great satisfaction to the poor when called to 
 provide for them, and was the first who caused a 
 stop to be put to letting out the poor at auction to 
 the lowest bidder, either separately, or all together, 
 to which towns in general have paid but little re- 
 gard to the bidders means or disposition suitably to 
 provide for their actual wants. This attention to 
 the poor he thinks the best act of his life, except 
 that of providing for his own family. 
 
 In 1839 was elected Representative, to the Gen- 
 
54 POETRY. 
 
 eral Court, and in 1842, accepted a seat in the 
 Senate ; thus emerging from obscurity, ignorance 
 and poverty, he has struggled through many years 
 of hard labor intermingled with pain, sorrow, ad- 
 versity and prosperity. Should any one learn 
 from the foregoing, to meliorate his own condition 
 it would more than compensate for what is here 
 written ; as it is a wise man that learns from the 
 experience of others, whilst those more unwise, 
 must learn from their own as they will learn from 
 no others. 
 
 Jiily 1, 1846. 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POETRY. 
 
 The following miscellaneous Poetry, the author 
 composed at different times, and notv places it on 
 record ivith this Memoir. 
 
 THE DOCTRINE OF CHANCE. 
 
 Why fancy this, so strange a world, 
 That all by chance is round us hurl'd ; 
 No argument man can advance, 
 Can ever prove all came by chance. 
 
 The forest trees that tower high, 
 And lo the star, the spangled sky ; 
 The splendid sun all glorious shine, 
 Declare all nature's work divine ! 
 
POETRY. 
 
 The order of the aniverse. 
 
 Directs all nature in its course ; 
 
 She guides the stars that round us burn, 
 
 The moon that changes in her turn. 
 
 Nothing takes place without a cause. 
 And all moves on by nature's laws ; 
 The elements that strive and rend, 
 In blackness all their fury spend. 
 
 In anger man may raise his sword. 
 In anger shed his neighbor's blood ; 
 Hindo's in poison dip their lance. 
 Can never prove all came by chance. 
 
 The sun, nor moon for ages past, 
 Have never varied from their place ; 
 From lofty mountains rivers flow, 
 Winding their way to plains below. 
 
 The ebb and flowmg of the tide. 
 By man can never be denied; 
 The bounding of the seas and flood. 
 Declares there is all nature's God. 
 
 All flesh as grass before him stand. 
 All nature moves at his command 
 Whose presence fills immensit}^. 
 To whom all mortals bend the knee. 
 
 B5 
 
60 POETRY. 
 
 MEMOIRS OF PAST EVENTS. 
 
 Come dear friend and tell me why comes that mournful 
 sound ? 
 
 What means that grief-worn furrow that on thy cheek is 
 
 found ? 
 That lock upon my head that's whiten'd like the frost, 
 Shows by force of reason what disappointments cost. 
 
 Time dear youth will bring you in place like mine to stand, 
 Should you survive to a long life, 'tis but a span ; 
 While reason undisturbed holds empire o'er my brain. 
 Forget the days that's past, nor wish for them again. 
 
 Oh the year of seventeen hundred and seventy-nine, 
 My sire was clad in arms and forinne proved unkind ; 
 Two brothers and three sisters, a mother wretched poor, 
 Was parted from her children, for food she had no more ! 
 
 Her child in her arras to her father did repair. 
 Four children on the town their charity to share ! 
 Neglected and despised no one to hear complaint — 
 Father's bones were bleaching near the river on West Point 
 
 World to one was fleeting v»'hose days had ne'er been blest^ 
 He view'd among the crowd one fairer than the rest, 
 Whose heart and hand obtained, engaged to give support, 
 A heartein solitude God poured the blessing out. 
 
 Death thou all destroyer, why hast thou come so soon, 
 To Cut the thread of love which was but just begun ; 
 The violet and the rose, the lllly on its stem, 
 Were not so fine and fair as thou hast taken home. 
 
 She left a man in sorrow, a son that's motherless, 
 And v/ho together lingered without a smile to bless, 
 Till like a gift from heaven a substitute was found, 
 
POETRY. 57 
 
 Who has gone to realms of bliss and never to return. 
 
 A mind well cultivated always just and kind, 
 With fortitude she languished, to death she was resigned ; 
 She open'd her mouth in wisdom, closed her eyes in death, 
 Her children bless her memory with their latest breath. 
 Now sorrow pain'd the heart, his bosom heaves a sigh. 
 Eight children round his board to him they oft drew nigh; 
 No fostering mother's breast for them to lean upon, 
 To wipe their tears away or hear them sobbing mourn. 
 
 We'll shun such dreary thoughts that oft disturb the mind, 
 Death laid two mother's low, God gave the third that's kind. 
 Who in love and union to us so near allied, 
 All in whose love and care with safety may confide. 
 
 REFLECTIONS 
 
 Of the author in the stillness of the night, and the evening 
 of his days, on passing the Cottage house from ichich he 
 had taken his first wife, now uninhabited and in ruins. 
 
 In youth we pass our hours away. 
 
 And take no thought for days to come ; 
 
 Our steps are light our hearths are gay. 
 Thus on our youthful moments run. 
 
 The cott where blaz'd the social fire, 
 
 Where mirth and fiiendship reign'd within; 
 
 And where then dwelt an honest bire. 
 Now there's not heard the sound of man. 
 
 Welcome beneath this humble roof, 
 With friend in youth I've set to chat — 
 
 4* 
 
60 POETRY. 
 
 ON CAPITAL PUNISHMENT. 
 
 Judgment just leaves conscience clear, 
 Error brings trouble, care and fear; 
 Then stay your hand shed not man's blood, 
 As life and death belong to God. 
 
 Let mercy rule in every cause. 
 And mingled be in all man's laws; 
 'Tween life and death let no man set, 
 Take that from him he can't remit. 
 
 Then spare his life, he may repent, 
 Take not man's life you may relent ; 
 He may become a man like you. 
 Holy and wise, both just and true. 
 
 Oh take not that you cannot give. 
 You may rejoice to see him live ; 
 Why force a soul loaded with sin 
 Into a state that never ends ? 
 
 Should ignorance be on his side. 
 Insanity, he may be tried — 
 Time may unfold and bring to light 
 The jury's wrong, the culprit right. 
 
 All laws abolish to shed man's blood, 
 And leave the work to nature's God, 
 Whose ways like truth eternal stand, 
 To teach the erring ways of man. 
 
 Enlighten'd nations stand aghast 
 At human sacrifices past; 
 Nations not many years to come 
 Will stand amaz'd at was done= 
 
POETRY. 61 
 
 Tke last words in substance of the author* s first wife, who 
 died July 16, 1798, aged lb years 3 months and 10 days. 
 
 Farewell my friend, my earthly all, 
 And must we, must we part so soon ? 
 
 My bosom how can 1 unfold. 
 
 To know I can't come back again. 
 
 Farewell, farewell, farewell, 
 
 My loving friend farewell. 
 
 Farewell, this is the parting hour 
 
 With you who shar'd my joys and pains; 
 
 Doom'd but to die just like a flower. 
 And know I can't come back again ! 
 
 Farewell, &,c. 
 
 Farewell dear friend my glass is run, 
 
 And my short life draws to its end ; 
 Forget me not, but never mourn 
 
 For her who can't come back again. 
 Farewell, &c. 
 
 Farewell to all the joys of life, 
 
 To heaven let my thoughts ascend, 
 When death shall cut this thread of life, 
 
 I know I can't come back again. 
 Farewell, &c. 
 
 Farewell my soul must take its flight, 
 
 Serenely let my hours but end 
 And wend my way to realms of light. 
 
 From whence I can't come back again. 
 Farewell, &c. 
 
 Farewell my son before you lies 
 
 That breast to which you fondly clung, 
 
 6 
 
C2 POETRYi- 
 
 In silence ainks no more to rise, 
 
 To you I can't come back again. 
 Farewell, &c. 
 
 REFLECTIONS ON THE FORE&OING. 
 
 In youth I smil'd without a cause, 
 
 And did not know my joys would end; 
 
 But soon was taught by nature's laws, 
 To know she can't come back again. 
 
 That voice that cheer'd my midnight hours^ 
 And shar'd with me my joys and pains; 
 
 Bloom'd but to die a youthful flower, 
 I know she can't come back again. 
 
 Oh could my memory but cease, 
 My life but find a peaceful end. 
 
 Those tears that flow forever cease 
 For her that can't come back again. 
 
 Why should that flower die so soon, 
 
 Whose years did never count twice ten ? 
 
 And must I linger here to mourn, 
 For her who can't come back again. 
 
 God of my life look gently down. 
 
 Serenely let my days but end. 
 Since all my earthly joys are flown, 
 
 With her who can't come back again. 
 
 I'll look beyond this vale of tears, 
 
 Where sighing and sorrow never comes, 
 
 Cut short the number of my years, 
 Could we who love but meet again. 
 
POETRY. 
 
 6S 
 
 THE UNCERTAINTY OF LIFE AND PROSPERITY. 
 
 View the flowers as they spring, 
 Odors to the breezes fling — 
 While the groves with music ring 
 From nature's feather'd tribe : 
 And who greets the morning sun, 
 Their labors from their hopes begun, 
 By rufKans rob'd of all their young, 
 That blasted all their joys. 
 
 Now their hopes and labors lost, 
 And their cries are on the blast. 
 On the wing the fowler cast 
 Them fluttering at his feet: 
 So shall youth's strong hope arise, 
 With naught but wealth before his eyes, 
 Before he grasps the fountain flies 
 Like light beams of the sun. 
 
 Youthful man this lesson hear, 
 Know that thou hast one to fear; 
 God of love who's ever near. 
 When earthly hopes shall fail ; 
 You may strive, but strive in vain, 
 For to ascend to wealth and fame, 
 And to the last may still remain, 
 A pilgrim on the land. 
 
 Like a lovely blooming flower. 
 
 Springing from a summer's shower, 
 
 Droop and die within an hour, 
 
 Beneath the burning sun; 
 
 Could all men their wealth retain, 
 
 That wealth thf^y^•e labored lone; to gain, 
 
 5-* 
 
64 POETRY. 
 
 More blest is he who leaves no stain 
 Upon his character. 
 
 Time on wings exceeds man's thoughta, 
 All his works shall come to naught, 
 And himself remember'd not, 
 Till God shall bid him rise, 
 Grief worn furrows from his eyes 
 Now points to sorrows long past by, 
 His broken heart now heaves a sigh, 
 And waits for death's relief 
 
 ELIZABETH C. BRAGG, FOR MART ELLIS' ALBrM- 
 
 Youth a flower of gay delight. 
 
 That time will swiftly end; 
 That droops and dies by nature's blight, 
 
 And never blooms again. 
 
 Virtue 's a blessing from above 
 
 That cheers us when we die; 
 To all that claim our tender love, 
 
 To them we're always nigh. 
 
 Nations to females owe their birth, 
 
 Nature to them hath given 
 The power to teach the joys of earth, 
 
 And form man's soul for heaven. 
 
 With joy we've met, in friendship part, 
 
 The love I bear to thee, 
 8hall find no void within my heart, 
 
 As thou canst none for me. 
 
POETRY. 65 
 
 Oh Mary, for thy Album round, 
 Accept my thanks unfeigned ; 
 
 It gives me joy that I have found 
 Your Album bears mv name. 
 
 A gentleman on board of a Steam Boat from Boston to 
 East Boston, in search of his mother, after twenty-nine 
 years absence at sea, not knowing she ivas on board. 
 The boat the wharf vi^as leaving fast, 
 
 Parental love bloom 'd on the deck, 
 A noble form was seen to pass. 
 
 By female eyes that look'd through specks. 
 With manly form he trod the deck, 
 
 Regardless of the chequer'd crew — 
 Save one whose heart with sorrow rent, 
 
 Remark'd his wants can't be but few. 
 He was passing by his mother, 
 
 His listening ear had caught the sound : 
 One I seek and that's my mother. 
 
 Oh tell me where she can be found? 
 
 In early life I left my home, 
 
 I sail'd the world both far and near ; 
 
 My mother's breast would be a throne, 
 Where love could drop the silent tear. 
 
 East Boston wharf the boat drew near. 
 Trembling with age she left her seat. 
 
 Whose eyes were wet with sorrow's tear, 
 In hopes some friendly hand to meet. 
 
 He bought of fruit and bread quite nigh. 
 
66 POETRY. 
 
 And turn'd her sufFering wants to meet; 
 And as this widow pass'd him by, 
 He said, dear madam, will you eat? 
 
 Sir, you'll accept my thanks I pray, 
 It joys my heart such friends to meet, 
 
 For I've not tasted bread to day — 
 Dear Sir, it is a sumptuous feast. 
 
 Oh tell me where you'r going so fast? 
 
 Dear sir, to labor not far off ; 
 My lot was by misfortune cast. 
 
 My husband 's dead, my children lost. 
 
 Madam, I crave your husband's name, 
 In truth dear friend that name is mine I 
 
 Twenty-nine years I've plow'd the main, 
 And three times six have cross 'd the line. 
 
 The strings that bound her cap were red. 
 My mother used such strings to wear ; 
 
 How long have you had them he said, 
 Dear Sir, 'tis more than forty years. 
 
 When I was young I saw those strings, 
 Josephus then they call'd my name; 
 
 Yours is the breast to which I clung, 
 Mother, behold your long lost son ! 
 
 She shriek'd, she fainted, and she fell. 
 Into his arms amid the crowd ! 
 
 It joys the heart of all to tell. 
 
 And have such scenes proclaim'd abroad. 
 
POETRY. 67 
 
 PRIEST'S LAMENTATION. 
 
 How hard it is by death to part. 
 
 We part nor meet again ; 
 It chills my blood, it pains my heart. 
 
 To leave this world in sin. 
 
 The good old times, of ages past, 
 When priests and kings bore rule. 
 
 Return no more to cheer my heart. 
 Or stop the mouth of fools^ 
 
 The Christian and the thinking man. 
 Have broke the monarch's chain; 
 
 Its broken, oh its broken, and 
 It can't be join'd again. 
 
 When holy priests taught men their creed, 
 
 And kings rode on the fence ; 
 When racks were made to superscede 
 
 Reason and common sense : 
 
 Then men were humbled in our sight, 
 
 And when they went astray, 
 A tenth m tithes set all things right, 
 
 And we had naught to say. 
 
 O foolish man, how canst thou think 
 
 To scan the works of God ! 
 Did priests not pray, God not to wink, 
 
 To spare a martyr's blood. 
 
POETRY. 
 
 FOR INFORMATION. 
 Tell me who loves to break the tender string, 
 
 Around female hearts that's trembling ? 
 And who that loves the stumbling block to fling, 
 
 With treacherous hearts dissembling. 
 
 Who that love the cords of love to sever 
 That binds the hearts of two ui one — 
 
 That sets the daughter against the mother, 
 And the father against the son? 
 
 And what man's cloak covers too many crimes, 
 
 Whose cupidity dreads the light ? 
 And what religious creed justly defin'd 
 
 Condemns man's soul to endless night ? 
 
 What Christian sect gives life to save the soul. 
 And damns his soul to please his God ? 
 
 By creeds like this, have many been control'd. 
 And martyrs sealed it with their blood ! 
 
 Who is it that comes in at the back door, 
 And takes the first seat in the room ? 
 
 Who leads woman captive, and would do more, 
 When the good man is not at home ? 
 
 Say who is it that shows his holy creed. 
 
 At corners praying day and night ? 
 Who is it makes the widow's heart to bleed. 
 
 When bones of the dead lay in sight ? 
 Who is it that's inclin'd to all but good, 
 
 That burn'd Servetus when in rule ? 
 Now tell me who can love a hypocrite 
 
 That spends his days as would a fool .' 
 
POETRY. 69 
 
 0)1 the death of his grandson John Fisher Jones, 
 who died January 18, 1839, aged 5 years and 7 
 , months. 
 
 As leaves fall from the limbs, 
 Or rose buds from the stems 
 
 Cut by the frost ; 
 So fell the young, the brave, 
 No healing art could save 
 From the consuming grave, 
 
 Where all is lost ! 
 
 Death unexpected come, 
 And claim'd of me my son ! 
 
 And must he go. 
 Bright in the morn of life ? 
 He knew no sin nor strife, 
 Death cut the thread of life, 
 
 And laid him low. 
 
 My son, my hopeful son. 
 Too soon thy glass hath run — 
 
 Thou canst not fear ; 
 Thy groans in death ascend. 
 That shakes the heart of friends 
 While round thy bed attends, 
 
 Thy mother dear. 
 
 Oh canst thou understand. 
 It is thy mother's hand 
 
 Laid on thy face. 
 No answer from him come, 
 In agony he flung 
 His arms, and to her clung, 
 
 But could not speak. 
 
70 POETRY. 
 
 He's paid the debt of death ! 
 To nature's God his breath, 
 
 Great was his fall ; 
 He sleeps within the grave, 
 With the good and the brave, 
 The beggar and the slave, 
 
 Peace to them ail. 
 
 Wrote on and after the youthful Teviperance Cele- 
 bration, at Milford, July 4, 1842, ivhere a school 
 fronn each Ward appeared loith their parents and 
 teachers, called the Cold Water Army. 
 To chaunt the praise of rustic swains, 
 
 That work I leave to other men, 
 I'll raise my voice to nobler strains, 
 And nobler thoughts employ my pen. 
 
 This day 's a blest and glorious day, 
 A day on which the British chain 
 
 Was broken, and shall we now delay, 
 As blest a victory to gain. 
 
 Bright the morn glorious was the deed 
 To lead the numerous army forth, 
 
 To sooth the heart that often bleeds, 
 And bless the after days of youth. 
 
 One hundred feet the grotto square, 
 Shaded o'er with green birches tall, 
 
 Whose web was w^oven for the fair, 
 
 And form'd one grand and spacious hall. 
 
 They come, they come, the Rand proclaim. 
 
POETRY. 71 
 
 Instructors with their armies meet ; 
 With hearts of joy the arbor gain, 
 Where every soldier finds a seat. 
 
 The old and young, weary and lame, 
 
 Here in concord met together, 
 To join the sympathetic strain, 
 
 And cheer the heart of every mother. 
 
 The festive board with bounty crown'd, 
 Trembled beneath its mighty load, 
 
 On which the youthful army fed, 
 And alcohol w^as not allow'd. 
 
 The smiling youth in pink and green, 
 
 From East to West, from North to South, 
 
 Were with their happy parents seen, 
 Receiving wisdom from their mouth. 
 
 Here sleep retired, and hearts beat high, 
 Reason and thought resum'd her throne ; 
 
 Banners with mottos waving high. 
 In hands of youth to manhood grown. 
 
 The scene is closed, the sun declines, 
 
 We part not all to meet again — 
 While some may linger long behind, 
 
 Others an early grave may find. 
 
 The setting sun will close the day, 
 So death will close your life's career ; 
 
 The wheels of time make no delay. 
 To bring that fearful moment near. 
 
"ZS POETRY. 
 
 EEFLECTIONS. 
 
 Art is long and time is fleeting, 
 
 And our hearts though stout and brave? 
 
 Still like muffle drums are beating, 
 Funeral marches to the grave. 
 
 ANSWER. 
 
 The Lord of glory had one creed, 
 On good ground sow good seed : 
 The naked clothe the hungry feed, 
 And heal the hearts that bleed. 
 
 Nature in all her various waj-'s, 
 To mortal man unknown ; 
 Performs her work from day to day, 
 The earth with beauty crowns. 
 
 Nature supplies the wants of man, 
 Beasts on her bounty feed ; 
 By natures all harmonious plan, 
 The earth must yield her seed. 
 
 The mighty deep by nature flows, 
 The bounds that nature set ; 
 Man never had the power to know, 
 Nor nature to forget. 
 
 All nature fills immensity, 
 As nature never ends, 
 No man shall ever see 
 When nature first began. 
 
 Why thinkest thou, oh foolish man, 
 To scan the works of God ! 
 Wast thou not made to till the ground. 
 And bare afflictions rod. 
 
POETRY. * 73 
 
 ON THE THOUGHTLESSNESS OF YOUTH. 
 It grieves me to the heart to think 
 
 Of past times I have miss'd; 
 I've forged the chain then broke the link 
 
 That would have made me blest. 
 
 In youth when oft the fair I've met, 
 
 A flush come o'er their cheek ; 
 We'd chat and chat, and then regret 
 
 That time had been so fleet. 
 
 That heavenly music of the tongue. 
 
 Makes melody of heart; 
 And when the chat was once begun, 
 
 We always grieve to part. 
 
 Our hearts were fill'd with mirth and gle«. 
 
 While time makes no delay ; 
 Regardless of eternity, 
 
 Though life wears but a day. 
 
 But part we must, no pardon have. 
 
 Our tongues they must be still ; 
 Our tears fall fast upon the grave, 
 
 There all our sorrows tell. 
 
 Cold sweat upon the marble brow, 
 
 Where death hath laid his hand. 
 Cuts short man's days and lays him low, 
 
 'Tia nature's dread command. 
 
74 POETRY. 
 
 Composed and read at the trial for a Union of Manufac- 
 turers of Boots and Shoes in Milford^ and the neighbor- 
 ing towns, ill 1836. 
 
 The farmer's wants are well supplied. 
 While to mechanics 'tis denied 
 Their business rightly to conduct. 
 Want of union is want of luck. 
 
 Assemble then and all unite, 
 To give one price and what is right. 
 To honest men for work done well. 
 And in no case to undersell. 
 
 Look well to all you do employ. 
 Your work well done, no stock destroy; 
 For he who o'erlooks not his men. 
 Gives them his purse and all therein. 
 
 Then shall your cash book well be lin*d. 
 Accommodation always find ; 
 Long credit then you will not need. 
 Nor at the banks for discount plead. 
 
 Your friends released who under-write, 
 Your slumbers sweet though long the night; 
 When prudence is before the eye, 
 Ecconomy is always nigh. 
 
 Untrammel'd minds will in a trice. 
 With confidence command a price ; 
 Wisdom in all things to control. 
 Brightens the eye and joys the soul.' 
 
I»OETRY. 75 
 
 Written on the execution of Russell and Crockett, which 
 took place in the jail-yard, Boston March 16, 1836, /or 
 setting fire to a dwelling house at that place, October 
 1835. 
 
 The horrid midnight burning flames, 
 
 Rising from your incendaries hand ; 
 Confines you restless here in chams. 
 
 To wait your country's dread command ! 
 
 With hearts depraved, beneath your cloak. 
 
 Regardless of the laws of God ! 
 Your country's mercy to provoke. 
 
 Wreak vengeance on your neighbor's blood. 
 
 You stand most rare within this bar. 
 
 To matchless men all Adam's race, 
 To pardon you will never dare. 
 
 Or even show the signs of grace. 
 
 Justice demands no smiles for thee. 
 
 All nature trembl'd at your birth; 
 And mortal man will never see 
 
 A greater evil on the earth. 
 
 From eyes of flint would fall a tear. 
 
 And hearts of marble freely bleed, 
 Villians to know like you were clear 'd. 
 
 To propogate such midnight deeds. 
 
 Go, wretches die beneath the knot, 
 
 May God have mercy on your souls; 
 A warning be to those that not 
 
 Know how their passions to control. 
 
 4* 
 
76 POETRY. 
 
 REFLECTIONS ON PAST MISFORTUNES. 
 
 Why am I mark'd for sorrows child ? 
 
 Why are my joys turn'd into tears ? 
 Without one friend on me to smile, 
 
 Or soothe my short and wasting yeara. 
 
 IN YOUTH. 
 
 Father of heaven, 1 have no sire, 
 
 I am his second orphan son ; 
 He gave his life for liberty, 
 
 Of friends or wealth I then had none. 
 
 IN MANHOOD. 
 
 Could love recall the fleeting breath, 
 I would not mourn a father's home; 
 
 Affection soothe relentless death. 
 That laid my joys low in the tomb. 
 
 Our hearts were in one bundle bound. 
 Death the thread of life did sever 
 
 And laid my joys beneath the ground, 
 Never to meet, no not never. 
 
 Now like the troubl'd oceans foam, 
 My passions rise, and like a blast 
 
 That swiftly bear me to the tomb, 
 My hours of grief can't fly too fast. 
 
 1 close my eyes and dream in sleep. 
 That robs me of refreshing rest; 
 
 I wake and only wake to weep. 
 Without paternal love to bless. 
 
 No father's house or mother's home, 
 
 Where I could spend one lonesome hour ; 
 
 For all was lost I'm doom'd to roam. 
 And mourn that lost and fallen flower. 
 
POETRY. 77 
 
 SITUATIONS COMPARED. 
 
 The lark from the meadow and the lawn, 
 
 ^founts cheerly on her pinions high, 
 With songs to greet the coming morn, 
 
 And grace the blue etherial sky. 
 
 In living free she's not denied, 
 
 No willful wrong corrodes her breast ; 
 
 In innocence she lives and dies, 
 
 With her own progeny from her nest. 
 
 While man is doorn'd to harder fate, 
 
 To sweat and toil a life-long day — 
 May knock and call at fortune's gate. 
 
 And then by fate be turn'd away. 
 
 Forced into life naked and bare, 
 
 And forced out without his consent ; 
 The God of heaven only knows where, 
 
 And for what good cause he was sent. 
 
 Is there no life but only this. 
 
 No joys to cheer the drooping heart ? 
 Is there no place more solid bliss, 
 
 I have none now for to impart. 
 
 LofC. 
 
'J'S fOETRY. 
 
 WORDS OF FRIENDSHIP. 
 
 April 8, 1839. 
 Mr. Abner Kneeland, dear and respected friend, 
 how can I convey to you the sorrowful emotions of my heart 
 when casting my eye over your valedictory address, which 
 was the first intimation I had of your absence. Since it is 
 80 I can only say — 
 
 Fare thee well, my friend farewell, 
 When I saw you who could tell 
 From my lips what might have fell, 
 To know your destiny. 
 
 Shall we never meet again ? 
 Still for one cause we'll both contendif 
 And in that cause our life we'll end. 
 For truth and liberty. 
 
 On the proud records of fame, 
 Thousands will respect your name, 
 Long after you in dust have lain, 
 In the sweet sleep of death. 
 
 ]\Iay your latter days be blest, 
 Beyond your foes in the fair West ; 
 And where your bones in peace may rest, 
 While nature's God remains. 
 
 
POETRY. 
 
 THE DRUNKARD'S REFORM. 
 
 When will you leave off drinking rum ? 
 
 I do not know sir, when would you ? 
 I'd leave before I had begun — 
 
 If I could not sir, how could you ? 
 But since you've been so very kind, 
 
 And told me what I might have done, 
 I have just now made up my mind, 
 
 To tell you when I'll drink no rum, 
 And throw my bottles all away, 
 And throw my bottles all away, 
 And thj^w my bottles all away. 
 And throw my bottles all away. 
 
 When misery joys my wife and child, 
 
 And winding streams up hill shall run ; 
 When death shall make his victim smile, 
 
 Oh then I'll leave off drinking rum; 
 When sweet is sour and sour is sweet — 
 
 And women cease to use their tongues, 
 Lions and lambs in friendship meet ; 
 
 Oh then I'll leave off drinking rum, 
 And throw my bottles all away, &c. 
 
 Give me the glass that ever flows, 
 
 I'd toil and sweat a life-long day, 
 Content to wear these ragged clothes. 
 
 And starve for bread another day; 
 Oh for one glass of whisky sling, 
 
 I'd pay the forfeit with my life — 
 Before I'd loose that blessed thing, 
 
 I'd starve my children and my wife. 
 Nor throw my bottles all away, &c. 
 
 5* 
 
 79 
 
80 
 
 When I am dead they'll raise no stone 
 
 To tell the place, nor mark my name; 
 Despised by all beloved by none. 
 
 And all for naught but drinking rum ; 
 And has it come to this at last. 
 
 All my affairs to ruin ruin. 
 And I myself in prison cast ! 
 
 Is this the road all drunkard's run ? 
 I'll throw my bottles all away, &c. 
 
 My trembling limbs and bloated face — 
 
 My eyes to swell long since began, 
 Bring reason to my soul's release, ^ 
 
 Oh I will leave off drinking rum. 
 My health restored, my wife and child. 
 
 Forgive me all that I had done ; 
 When I return I meet their smiles, 
 
 A good exchange for that of rum . 
 I've thrown my bottles all away, &c. 
 
 My troubled mind restor'd to peace, 
 
 Curse followed brandy, gin and rum ; 
 God save like ii>e the human race, 
 
 From all the sins of drinking rum ; 
 Then shall this land rejoice to know 
 
 That pestilence and famine cease, 
 Our hearts with blessings overflow, 
 
 With joys of joys, the joy of peace. 
 We've thrown our bottles all away, &.c. 
 
roETRY. 
 
 NEVER RAIL AT THE WORLD. 
 
 BY CHARLES SWAN. 
 
 Never rail at the world, it is just what we make it, 
 We see not the flower if we see not the seed ; 
 
 And as for ill luck, why it's just as we take it, 
 The heart that's in earnest no bars can impede. 
 
 You question the justice which governs man's breast, 
 And say that the search for true friendship is vain ; 
 
 But remember this world though it be not the best, 
 Is next to the best we shall ever attain. 
 
 Never rail at the world, nor attempt to exalt 
 The feeling which questions society's claim; 
 
 For often poor friendship is less in the fault, 
 
 Less chargeable oft than the selfish who blame. 
 
 Then ne'er by the changes of fate be depress'd. 
 Nor wear like a fetter time's sorrowful chain; 
 
 But believe that this world though it be not the best, 
 Is next to the best we shall ever attain. 
 
 81 
 
82 roNcLUsioA. 
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 A FATHER S FAREWELL ADDRESS TO HIS CHILDREN. 
 
 Although couched in simple language, it is to 
 be hoped when duly appreciated, it may lead the 
 heart in some measure at the close of life, to a sat- 
 isfactory and happy result. 
 
 Dear Children : — 
 Remember all men are born free and equal, of 
 which you are a part, and that you have certain 
 inalienable rights, among these are life, liberty and 
 the pursuit of happiness, and more than that, the 
 right to worship God in the manner and season 
 most agreeable to the dictates of your own con- 
 science, provided you do not disturb the public 
 peace, or disturb others in their religious worship. 
 Be independent in thought, but despise not good 
 counsel. Learn to know your rights and preserve 
 them. Human nature is such that those that guard 
 not their rights and liberty, ere long will be sure to 
 loo:^e them; whereas truth was from everlasting th« 
 
CONCLUSION. B;i 
 
 same — is now and forever will be Eternal as its 
 author, and what all men ought to search dil- 
 ligently to find out ; and as the conviction of 
 which is forced on every man's understanding, ov- 
 er which at pleasure he has no control. Therefore 
 no man, nor body of men ought, or can justly ex- 
 ercise any punishment on any man on account of 
 his belief, or unbelief, as all men have an absolute 
 right in all matters and things to satisfy their own 
 conscience, as well as that of offering their devo- 
 tions of heart to their Heavenly Father. 
 
 Such was the liberty for which our fathers left 
 their native land, traversed the Atlantic ocean, — 
 faced the red man in his wrath, and the howling 
 beasts of prey in this inhospitiable region of coun- 
 try, and where too they were soon followed by their 
 unnatural mother, and by her compelled to main- 
 tain their rights, dearer to them than life at the 
 point of the bayonet. This blessed liberty our 
 fathers transmitted to us their descendents, never 
 to forget, but to cherish, cultivate and defend. As 
 morality and religion are the only sure pillows on 
 which a republican government can rest, never 
 give countenance or willingly recognize any law 
 but that of equal rights and justice. Suffer no 
 attempt to undermine the Constitution to go un- 
 noticed. It is the anchor to the ark of your lib- 
 erty and independence. This is not a land of tol- 
 
84 CONCLUSION. 
 
 eration, nor never can be, while the laws are ad- 
 ministered according to the principles of our bles- 
 sed Constitution, and which you will guard as the 
 palladium of your liberty. Once suffer tyranny 
 and oppression in the least degree to take the place 
 of free inquiry and religious liberty ; then might 
 the Constitution of these United States, with all 
 its beauty as well be swept into annihilation, and 
 no more rememberance be had of all those free and 
 happy institutions, bequeathed to us by our fathers, 
 and sealed with their blood. Never contend with 
 men concerning that which no man while living- 
 can ever know. Racks and faggots are not con- 
 vincing evidence of the truth of any religious sect 
 or denomination. You will strive to cultivate the 
 good will of all men, and as far as in you lies lead 
 their minds from malice, hatred and revenge, to 
 love. Constrain no man from his religious prin- 
 ciples or opinions, but teach by example that it is 
 better to love than to hate ; and far better to do 
 good than to do evil. Teach these principles to 
 your children, that future generations may rise up 
 and call you blessed. Lay aside the wild fancies 
 of the brain, which by avariousness in ages past, 
 have caused rivers of blood unjustly to flow ; but 
 give all the attention you have time to spare to that 
 which all honest men acknowledge to be good evi- 
 dence of morality and religion. Love your neigh- 
 
CONCLUSION. 85 
 
 bor as yourself, then you can have no disposition 
 to burn your neighbor at the stake, to force him to 
 acknowledge you are right and he is wrong. But 
 visit the sick in distress, those in prison confined in 
 chains and shut out from the light of heaven; 
 teach him that he is not confined for punishment, 
 but for reformation. Forget not the widow and 
 the fatherless ; give bread to the orphan and the 
 stranger — dry up the tears of sorrow and anguish 
 that sting to the heart. 
 
 Woe to the man who shall go up to the house of 
 holiness under false pretences, to worship as it 
 were in an unknown tongue, regardless of the suf- 
 fering of the miserable and wretched, whose cries 
 and prayers ascend like clouds of incense to that 
 God, who sends his rain alike on the just and un- 
 just. By your fruits shall you be known. Imitate 
 your God — to be humane and just is divine. Lay 
 your cold heart in the warm sunshine of benevo- 
 lence, until it shall burst wdth kindness, and shall 
 have filled the cup of the afflicted and sorrowful to 
 the utmost of your ability ; doing always that 
 which is right in that all-seeing eye which pervades 
 the inmost recesses of the human heart, and re- 
 wards accordingly. Thus will you cause the 
 prayers of thousands to ascend to God, that he 
 would continue you many long and happy years in 
 this life, and crown you with everlasting glory and 
 honor4n that to come. 
 
86 CONCLUSION. 
 
 Glory not in riches, they cannot save you from 
 death, nor can they purchase you one moment of 
 time. Enjoy the good of your labor, using the 
 good things of this life as not abusing them ; and 
 as far as in you lies make all around you rejoice 
 that when the wheels of time shall cease with you 
 to roll, that you may then with the eye of faith un- 
 shaken, look forward and be able to say — Death 
 where is thy sting, grave where is thy victory.