LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 Shelf ._&3*f<3 
 
ABRAHAM KIMBALL 
 
 BY C. C. LORD 
 
 >/•' 
 
 
 
 
.05^3 
 
 COPYRIGHT 1892 
 By C. C. LORD 
 
PRELUDE. 
 
 I CANNOT hesitate to thread 
 The future maze, that ever drops 
 Its curtain on men's sight, and stops 
 The feet of countless souls, who dread 
 
 The issues of the time to come ; 
 Nor I, in thoughtlessness of time 
 That was, and of its worth sublime, 
 
 Dare count its sacred counsels dumb. 
 
 The old time lives and walks with me, 
 In quest, the path to things unknown, 
 Nor I, in arrogance, disown 
 
 The footprints that with mine agree ; 
 
 And, seeking thus, with earnest eyes, 
 Along a worn and hallowed way, 
 Old time with cheer beguiles the clay, 
 
 When morning breaks, till evening dies. 
 
 Old hopes and expectations blend 
 In mine; the pledge of future years, 
 Time past, that constancy endears, 
 
 Was, is, and shall be helper, friend. 
 
ABRAHAM KIMBALL. 
 
 T is a day when beauty beckons far 
 
 To eager souls that love the hills of green, 
 That gently slope to fertile vales and meads, 
 When nature basks in sunlight soft and clear, 
 And the bright world, in fancy's rapt emprise, 
 The semblance wears of the blest realm unseen — 
 Dear Paradise. Up the fair slopes, in joy, 
 In answer to the summons beauty waves, 
 Come groups of men and matrons, while their hands 
 In tender fondness lead sweet childhood on, 
 That all may revel in rich nature's pride, 
 And feast their eyes on landscapes stretched afar, 
 And muse on things that typify to sense 
 The glories waiting in the world unseen, 
 Yet felt when earth its rarest robes assumes. 
 
 It is the summit of old Putney's hill 
 
 In Hopkinton, 1 and hither wend the feet 
 
 Of those who dote on scenes in landscapes spread 
 
 In light and loveliness ; yet here are things 
 
 That make, in thoughtful men and women, quick 
 
 To catch the impress of the past and gone, 
 
 When blended in the present full of charms, 
 
6 ABRAHAM KIMBALL. 
 
 A double rapture in the joys of time, 
 
 The while their thoughts revolve the old and new, 
 
 And while their hearts respond to hints that speak 
 
 Of gladness found when both to sight convene. 
 
 Thus contemplation holds the truth sublime 
 
 And faultless, as in fancy round and round 
 
 They tread the mighty circuit of the hills 
 
 And mounts that scan New Hampshire's granite realms,' 2 
 
 And from their peaks step down and thread the vales, 
 
 And visit pleasant vills and homes in light, 
 
 Or rest in sweet fields gleaming in the sun, 
 
 Or, for the tempting aspects of the west, 
 
 Where wends the Contoocook 3 with silver line, 
 
 Trace its meandering, its valley, long 
 
 And wide, reposing nameless in its wealth 
 
 Of beauty rare. Then, as swift vision tires 
 
 Of distant wandering, their thought returns, 
 
 Tired sense ignoring present themes and charms, 
 
 To dwell upon the footprints of old days, 
 
 And scan the vestiges of ancient time, 
 
 That cluster on this height, deserted now 
 
 Of homes and hearths, but once the scene of life 
 
 That surged to aims and ends of grander scope 
 
 Within the active circle of the realm 
 
 Whose civil bounds define the heritage 
 
 Of those who now are sovran citizens 
 
 Of this old town of firm and fair renown. 4 
 
ABRAHAM KIMBALL. 
 
 Lo ! just before the eye, a little north, 
 
 In ancient, uncouth guise, the empty home 
 
 Of him who first the Gospel message bore 
 
 To this abode, stands lone and sad, its form 
 
 In slow degrees to ruin wasting on. 5 
 
 Just by, a little nearer, is the site 
 
 Of the rude fortress, 6 where the early folk 
 
 A refuge found in times of dire alarms, 
 
 When the red Indian sought the paleface prey, 
 
 To glut the coffers of a cruel lust 
 
 Of heartless gain. A little farther south, 
 
 A slight depression and a heap of stones 
 
 Rude recollection keep of him who once 
 
 There dwelt, the first physician, — he whose skill 
 
 Was sought both near and far the country round. 7 
 
 Such once was life that thrilled this ancient haunt 
 
 Where name, position, influence combined 
 
 To draw the scattered people to this spot, 
 
 To satisfy the ends of civil rule, 
 
 To train to arms, 8 or worship at the fort. 9 
 
 In love of by-gone lore, the groups that tire 
 
 Of contemplation of the landscape wide, 
 
 Turn to the ancient yard that crowns the hill, 
 
 Where sleep the dead who here held sway in life, 
 
 And read the clear inscription in the stone, 
 
 Or slowly trace the cutting, half effaced, 10 
 
 Or pause, in solemn mood, for thought of those 
 
8 ABRAHAM KIMBALL. 
 
 Who sleep unnoticed in their graves 11 unmarked. 
 Thus time wears on, till weary sense and mind 
 Yield to the instinct of inviting rest, 
 With soft reflection in a sea of calms, 
 Dissolving into dreams that float, and float, 
 In blissful musing in the face of day : 
 And haply then one seeks recess in shade, 
 The western sun declining in its course, 
 And looking eastward with his languid eyes, 
 Beholds, in careless mood, the village fair 
 That nestles at his feet ; and then, to notes 
 Of nature's soothing music, kindly breathed 
 O'er hill and vale, his softly thoughtful soul 
 Glides to the surface of the placid sea. 
 
 Interlude. 
 
 HAT are all the green fields thinking:, 
 In the sun reposing, sinking, 
 In the softness of the hours, 
 To the nodding of the flowers? 
 Only thinking something true, I ween, 
 And thinking it of you, my queen. 
 
 What are all the woodlands saying, 
 
 With their branches lightly playing. 
 
 In a tone that, melting, sighs, 
 
 As the gentle zephyr dies? 
 
 Only saying something kind, I ween, 
 
 And saying it of you, my queen. 
 
ABRAHAM KIMBALL. 
 
 In the leafy cloisters, ringing 
 
 Out a pure and tender chime 
 
 To the richness of the time? 
 
 Only singing something sweet, I ween, 
 
 And singing it of you, my queen. 
 
 §NE hundred years and fifty now have told, 
 Each by itself, their circuits since a day 
 When once the social circle of the town 
 Was stirred by one event, a thing so new 
 It filled all ears and made all hearts rebound. 
 The township, merging from the wilderness, 
 Had ways established, made connection straight 
 W T ith older Rumford on the nearest east, 1 ' 2 
 And fixed the early courses of rude arts 
 And homely industries, and promise held 
 Of enterprise and skill to honor claim 
 And pride encourage, and the wheels of time 
 Revolved to varied acts and incidents 
 That civil forms embody in the whole 
 Incipient, but thriving unto fame. la 
 Each patient circuit of the yearly sun 
 Had told some new adventure in the scope 
 And scheme of the new dwellingplace of souls, 
 Persistent in the zeal that brave hearts bear 
 In men and women struggling in a wild 
 For home and happiness ; yet one new joy 
 They waited, and the consummation came. 
 
IO ABRAHAM KIMBALL. 
 
 It was the happy spring-time : winter, dark 
 
 And cold, was fleeing from advancing light 
 
 And warmth ; the smiling sun had nature roused 
 
 To cheerfulness ; the first blithe birds had sung ; 
 
 The early buds had sprung, to earth redress 
 
 In robes of bloom and verdure ; and the brooks 
 
 Ran laughing down the hills, of gladness full, 
 
 Their icy fetters broken : then with mirth 
 
 And pride of nature came the nameless joy 
 
 That thrilled all human hearts in spring's sweet hours. 
 
 The transport of a social bond broke forth 
 
 That in the circle new a man was born, 14 
 
 Since ne'er before such glad event had blessed 
 
 The young society, and faces beamed, 
 
 And tongues congratulated, and true hands 
 
 Grasped fervently, the while the happy word 
 
 Sped to the farthest home and rudest lodge 
 
 Within the civil pale. Nor was the praise 
 
 Of the new life but of ideal phase : 
 
 A boon substantial was the test of joy 
 
 And pride, resultant of the sacred gift 
 
 Of Providence. Of land, a mighty tract — 
 
 Five hundred acres — bore the fruitful pledge 
 
 Of pleasure prompted in the civic heart. 15 
 
 Nor is this tale exempt from odd emprise 
 
 And rare coincidence. While to the east 
 
 The eager eye turned to the sunrise bright, 
 
ABRAHAM KIMBALL. II 
 
 Advancing northward in its vernal course, 
 
 Fair from the east came forth the spring of hope 
 
 To the young populace. Upon the hill, 
 
 Which marks the eastern limit of the town, 
 
 Lived Aaron Kimball, 16 and his rustic hearth 
 
 Glowed with a richer and intenser fire 
 
 For the sweet child that first in time made glad 
 
 The bright horizon of the social realm, 
 
 In hope of increase rare and growth sublime : 
 
 And like him, who, in ancient lore, oft read 
 
 By pious learners of the Word divine, 
 
 Came from the east to bless a western land, 
 
 The child was Abraham, the father found 
 
 Of a vast multitude, that on his fate 
 
 Hung passive in the mission of the world. 
 
 Interlude. 
 
 HERE'S a heart and hand in the dim unseen, 
 To yearn and reach to each one, I ween, 
 For, out of the depths of the soul of peace, 
 Hope springs 
 And sings 
 Of a blissful day that can never cease. 
 
 In the walks of earth, while the weary stray, 
 Soft tones serene on the breezes play, 
 Till, gentle as perfume of roses sweet, 
 
 They swell 
 
 And tell 
 How the time, the wish, and the end will meet. 
 
12 ABRAHAM KIMBALL. 
 
 So the fancy glides to fruition blest, 
 And gladness crowns all the soul's unrest, 
 As, touched by the wand of the gods, we see 
 
 Love lives 
 
 And gives 
 Of its own the worth for all worth to be. 
 
 TJ IFE has its swift reactions, and the heart 
 HL That dotes on happiness, and counts it fast 
 Within its endless grasp, trends close on pain. 
 The sunlight waits the cloud, and day to night 
 Is ever passing, and life's smile of joy 
 Turns quickly to the gloom that fosters tears. 
 The early township, in the light of peace, 
 Claimed earnest of the gifts of worth and wealth, 
 And, with the pledge of love's domestic flame 
 In pure prosperity, gave pious thanks 
 And set affection on the promised goal. 
 Then the sky darkened, and the bursting storm 
 Grew thick, portentous, and of direful mien, 
 Until their spirits quailed. In two short years, 
 That saw the babe of special promise thrive, 
 Across the eastern sea came dismal sounds 
 Of sullen, clashing arms. The German throne, 
 Made vacant by grim death, had fired the zeal 
 Of warlike England and impulsive France 
 To fatal conflict, law's succession held 
 In bloody difference, and heartless fate 
 
ABRAHAM KIMBALL. 1 3 
 
 In incidental courses made the homes 
 
 And hearths dependent on far distant shores 
 
 Feel woe and loss that turned on fealty 
 
 To mother country or to fatherland. 17 
 
 New England brave conceived an ardent foe 
 
 In bold New France, and, ranging oft between, 
 
 The redman plied his hands in greed of gain 
 
 And thirst of vengeance on the English band 
 
 That slew his kind and fought his French allies. 
 
 Of safety mindful in the dire alarm, 
 
 The settlers of the town, whose fame we prize 
 
 And virtues fain relate, at once, with speed, 
 
 Three fortresses made strong, that, past their walls, 
 
 Defenceless souls might hie and soothe their fears. 18 
 
 Nor were the years but few that knew the need 
 
 Of such precaution ; in their course, long wars 
 
 Filled hearts with dread that oft made faces pale ; 
 
 And when, in brief suspense, the civil arms 
 
 Lay bloodless on the weary, tearful land, 
 
 The savage weapons still were keen and swift 
 
 To taste of blood or point to bondage hard. 
 
 Of years, a score crept on, and then the doom 
 
 Of fear and fell concern had scarcely fled. 19 
 
 Perchance one pleasant day, upon the brow 
 Of Putney's hill, where fame invites our praise, 
 One sits above the shady village east, 
 
14 ABRAHAM KIMBALL. 
 
 To ponder on old days, and fain revolve 
 
 The scenes and deeds that tried the early souls 
 
 That sought a dwellingplace within the wild 
 
 That once reigned here supreme. The weary care 
 
 Of roaming and of seeing haply sped, 
 
 In the soft dream that soothes the burdened sense, 
 
 He wakes to con a legend of the past, 
 
 Suggested ever by the haunts and bounds 
 
 That lie before him. Down the slope he sees, 
 
 And just before him, gushing springs of pure, 
 
 Sweet water, whence glad village folk derive 
 
 A gift luxurious in endless flow. 20 
 
 But then, thought pausing here a little space, 
 
 His mind o'erleaps the vill to reach the site — 
 
 Two miles away — where once the fortress stood, 
 
 That sheltered Aaron Kimball and his house 
 
 In those dread, warlike days that stir the theme 
 
 Of this our narrative, and starting thence — 
 
 From the strong fort — takes up the thrilling tale 
 
 That oft bestirs the breasts of those who hear 
 
 E'en now the choice narrations of old wars. 
 
 In fancy's light, he cons the nimble child, 
 
 On youth's strength verging, and on whom first fell 
 
 The hopes of virtue in domestic thrift, 
 
 Who took the path, on trustful mission sent 
 
 From Kimball's garrison, to seek the hill 
 
 Where Putney's blockhouse frowned on savage foes. 
 
ABRAHAM KIMBALL. 1 5 
 
 In faithful mood, the lad pursued his way, 
 
 A father's trust and mother's blessing found 
 
 His true incentives, till he reached the slope 
 
 That ever upward traversed to the point 
 
 Of highest elevation. It was morn 
 
 In fitful, frosty April ; 21 down the slope 
 
 Came rippling rills of water from the springs, 
 
 To run and shine, and then anon to turn 
 
 To icy crystals, that the earth adorned 
 
 With jewels iridescent, — gems as rare 
 
 As ever lustrously in monarchs' crowns 
 
 Flashed to the envy of admiring eyes. 
 
 The boy his vision feasted on the scene 
 
 Of sparkling beauty in his pathway spread 
 
 Till once his feet upon the icy way 
 
 Lost their firm hold, and he fell forward prone. 
 
 A slight mishap — but what events there hung 
 
 So close upon it ! When he rose again, 
 
 A warlike Indian stood on either side, 
 
 A savage arm was locked in each his own, 
 
 And he was captive held by heartless foes. 
 
 Yet he, though few in years, was calm of mien, 
 
 And made no cry, but, strong in mental poise, 
 
 And fortitude of heart, and lusty arm, 
 
 Surveyed his captors with a steady eye 
 
 And inly thought, — " Oh, were there only one, 
 
 What swift work would I make of foe so slight ! " 
 
1 6 ABRAHAM KIMBALL. 
 
 Nor was reflection thus a mere conceit 
 
 And childish fancy, for though only close 
 
 On youth's first steps, he was a stalwart lad 
 
 Who manhood emulated, and his strength 
 
 Was mighty in the sphere of childhood's range. 22 
 
 Upon his feet, young Abraham had soon 
 
 A new disclosure for his restless eye. 
 
 In the dim wood, close by, an Indian file 
 
 Crept stealthily to seek the higher land ; 
 
 For there, engaged in burning wild debris 
 
 Of forest growth, was Putney, Samuel 
 
 His Christian name, a man of riper years, 
 
 And him the redskins craved, a second prize 
 
 Of savage valor ; and they stole their way 
 
 Upon him till, to light a clearing fire, 
 
 They saw him stoop, and on him quickly rushed 
 
 And seized him, mindless of approaching steps, 
 
 And he was too in hopeless, heartless bonds. 23 
 
 Two captives found, the redmen turned aside 
 
 A little east and north, and made their way 
 
 To the oft rock of rest,' 24 that served the tribes 
 
 In weariness of roaming, in the glen 
 
 Where courses still the brook that drains the pond, 
 
 Reposing east and south of Putney's hill, 
 
 To find its outlet in the Contoocook, 
 
 The town's bright river. Here the captors paused, 
 
 To bide the patient time when kindred foes 
 
ABBA HAM KIMBALL. 1 7 
 
 To English homes should straight from Rumford come 
 
 With captives sure, that all might safer take 
 
 The common way to the far southern bound 
 
 Of northern Canada, and barter well 
 
 Each captive to the French, or hold as prize 
 
 Each one for ransom of a longing love. 
 
 Interlude. 
 
 E say, when one has known a shock 
 For cruel loss his heart to break, 
 Like some fair ship upon a rock, 
 
 Concerned for faithful pity's sake, 
 "Poor man, his lot is hard ! ,1 and then, 
 " He will not be himself again." 
 
 So true ! so false ! as oft appears 
 
 To life's late view ; yet thought conceives 
 A silent hand, in smiles and tears, 
 
 That notes each moment, in the leaves 
 Of each one's book, an instant when 
 He cannot be himself again. 
 
 Time changes all ; yet rich indeed 
 
 Is he who, for one little space, 
 In joy or grief, a sign can read 
 
 Of some new worth, a subtle trace 
 Of virtue wrought within, for then 
 He would not be himself again. 
 
ABRAHAM KIMBALL. 
 
 |JHE dire suspense that fills the human heart, 
 In stress of woe of dim, uncertain end, 
 Is quickened into misery, if once 
 The soul in bonds of pain beholds at hand 
 The wished but hopeless freedom. As they lodged 
 Within the wigwam wrought of bark and stone, 
 The guests enforced of savage shelter rude, 
 Young Abraham and Samuel, his friend 
 Of years maturer, felt their spirits sink, 
 With home so near and yet so far away, 
 In the sad impotence of love's desire. 
 In morning captured, till the evening late 
 They pondered doom, in silence sorrowing. 
 As the dark shadows of the night stretched long 
 Across the valley, from the east there came 
 The savage scout that Rumford sought in vain 
 For a fair captive, and the dimming light 
 Revealed the sullen looks that told regret 
 In cruel hearts unsatisfied with prey. 
 The night closed round, and all reposed for sleep, 
 The captives guarded each on either side, 
 Two Indian captors stern each lay between, 
 And slumber came, but fitfully and slight, 
 To each the captives, till at length the lad, 
 In weariness, to youthful instinct true, 
 Sank to the slumbrous depths he could not brook, 
 And in sleep's deep recesses dreamed a dream, 
 
ABRAHAM KIMBALL. 1 9 
 
 And found his home again in pleasant light, 
 And saw his father's form before the hearth, 
 And heard his mother's voice in gentle tones, 
 And felt the fireside glow and joy of love, 
 The while the household round was made in peace, 
 And then, at savage touch, awoke at morn 
 To grieve for bliss that was, and then was not, 
 Its impress lingering in dreams to- haunt 
 And taunt remembrance, sadder yet for sleep. 
 
 The morning broke in brightness, and the band — 
 
 The captors many and the captives two — 
 
 In radiance of light betook their way 
 
 By north to Canada. They followed down 
 
 At first the brook that babbled in the glen, 
 
 And then at length they turned to find the ford 
 
 That spans the Contoocook, where a bright stream, 
 
 The later Blackwater, in ceaseless flow, 
 
 Its burden yields to Contoocook, and there 
 
 They crossed and onward pressed ; but yet again 
 
 A fierce emprise then seized the Indian mind. 
 
 There was within the precincts of the town 
 That now is Boscawen, a circle small 
 Of young men, stalwart, brave, and swift to strike 
 For vengeance keen on wrongs the English bore 
 Through Indian foes, and oft their prowess bold 
 2 
 
20 ABRAHAM KIMBALL. 
 
 Had made a redskin fall and bite the dust; 
 And these sharp enemies the redmen fierce, 
 Who led their captives on, would fain destroy, 
 And sweet revenge for vengeance full repay : 
 And Flanders was the name the young men bore 
 Who sudden woe to Indian hearts could speed. 25 
 
 The redskins, plotting well with savage zeal, 
 
 Their stealthy way pursued till, on a hill, 20 
 
 And in a rude enclosure of a wood — 
 
 Their captives awed to silence in the scheme — 
 
 They poised their guns together through the brush- 
 
 The settler's fence that kept his legal bound — 
 
 As in a corner of the lot they watched 
 
 To see the Flanders men in thoughtless mood 
 
 Go past to meet their sure and sudden doom : 
 
 But still the shrewdest plot may fruitless be, 
 
 As foes alert may never idly roam, 
 
 And those who strike for death may find dismay 
 
 In their own hearts, surprised by fate's decree, 
 
 As sequel often proves in zeal for blood. 
 
 The Flanders men came up the careful way, 
 ( )f quick assault expectant. They had oft 
 Seen redskins spring from cover, madly bent 
 On swift destruction, and full well they knew 
 The foe's keen love of ambush, and their steps 
 
ABRAHAM KIMBALL. 21 
 
 They ever took with caution on their paths, 27 
 
 Yet this time odd and special warning found 
 
 Of near marauders. As their feet approached 
 
 The hostile line ensconced beneath the trees, 
 
 A faithful hound gave notice, as his hair 
 
 Erect, his sullen growl, his steadfast gaze, 
 
 The near location proved and told the course 
 
 Straight to the enemy, of unknown strength, 
 
 Yet who must still of valor feel the stroke 
 
 And test endurance in the shock of arms. 
 
 The white men, dashing, to the cover rushed, 
 
 Their warlike shouts resounding on the air, 
 
 Their guns discharging in their swift advance, 
 
 And thus dislodged the foe, who, for such zeal 
 
 In combat, rose and fled in fear unfeigned. 
 
 With such alarm, at first both captives fled, 
 
 Their captors following; but soon the boy, 
 
 Reflecting, said within, " Why should I flee 
 
 Where Indians flee ? " and straightway turned his steps 
 
 And sought a homeward path. Then Samuel, 
 
 His older friend in bondage, took a thought 
 
 Of private prudence and his steps retraced. 
 
 Just then a savage, for resentment fierce, 
 
 On Putney seized, and raised his tomahawk, 
 
 And would have slain him there, but for the hound 
 
 That seized the redskin, bearing to the earth 
 
 His torn and bleeding form, his arm in strife 
 
22 ABRAHAM KIMBALL. 
 
 For his own safety. 28 Rescued, Putney fled 
 With younger Kimball, and that night they came 
 Each to his home, and blessed a friendly arm 
 In Boscawen, and told a thrilling tale, 
 While loved ones listened, giving thanks to God, 
 In words emphatic borne on ardent tongues, 
 And fond embraces strong, and kisses true : 
 And Kimball, childlike, on his mother's breast 
 Reclined in tenderness, the while her tears 
 For nameless joy fell down and traced his cheek 
 To mingle with his own, as two fond loves 
 Together flowed in bliss for solace sweet. 
 
 Interlude. 
 
 |\ SUN of boundless love, that burns 
 f/ With zeal and energy divine, 
 This restless flame no longer yearns 
 Some spacious dome to own and shine. 
 
 These tiny beams creep out, and feel 
 The vast, and sense their feeble might, 
 
 And, pride ignoring, crave to steal 
 Within some lesser sphere of light. 
 
 In life's low, narrow, lisping vale, 
 Beneath sweet canopies of green, 
 
 Are little nooks, like cloisters pale, 
 Where truth looks in, yet half unseen. 
 
ABRAHAM KIMBALL. 2% 
 
 May these mild rays, in holy play, 
 
 Bear down and float, with function blest, 
 
 Within some humbler shrine of day, 
 To glint and dapple, sink and rest ! 
 
 fHE ceaseless sun renews his daily course, 
 And morning after morning breaks to light 
 The human paths of endless, varied round, 
 While swift necessity spurs on each heart, 
 Stern duty's oft occasion to fulfil. 
 The prize of home, the gift of joy unfeigned, 
 The thrilling tale, the household ardor sweet, 
 A while usurped his heart, and then the strong 
 And manly growing Abraham, the child 
 Of local fame and strange adventure, turned 
 His thoughts to daily service and reward 
 In paths industrious, and shared the toils 
 That in his generation thronged the ways 
 Of sturdy men upon New Hampshire's soil, 
 In frequent danger of dread war's alarms. 
 He felled and hewed the trees, built cabin homes, 
 Turned furrows of the field, and tended fruits 
 Of field and orchard till the harvest time, 
 And reaped kind nature's bounty of the rich 
 And glowing autumn ; and withal he bore 
 The constant caution that uncertain fate 
 Induces in the strife of nations, strong 
 In war, and ever reaching far in sad 
 
24 ABRAHAM KIMBALL. 
 
 And deadly influence. The fortress rude, 
 A kind resort in oft alarms that swept 
 The rural circle, e'er the mind absorbed, 
 Intent on service in the arts of peace, 
 And lured distraction to the patient soul 
 Of labor. Then at last the tocsin sound 
 Of warlike preparation and the clash 
 Of bloody arms were silent, and the smile 
 Of peace and plenty dawned with joyful mien. 
 
 The social circle beamed with pleasant light, 
 
 And patient labor won prosperity, 
 
 With the fair earth unvexed by contests dire : 
 
 But the brisk heart of man has never rest 
 
 Till hope's swift pinions roam wide fancy's world 
 
 And find the rock where faith's firm feet may stand, 
 
 The bulwark of the soul's complacent hours 
 
 In time that flies and seeks eternity. 
 
 There is a bond in kindred human souls 
 
 That binds on earth, and yet in honest guise 
 
 Foretells the purer union in the skies, 
 
 Where the heart lives and loves in light for aye. 
 
 Hence virtue thinks on home, and then above 
 
 On Heaven turns its eyes, fruition blest 
 
 Of faith enshrined in time's domestic pale, 
 
 Where sweet sincerity abides and reigns. 
 
 Young Kimball swiftly unto manhood thrived, 
 
ABRAHAM KIMBALL. 25 
 
 And, as his soul maturer graces wore, 
 
 Felt the strong yearning of the manly breast 
 
 That ever craves response in woman born 
 
 For man's companionship and comfort choice. 
 
 His vision wandered in the social sphere, 
 
 Where lights of maidenhood, like fitful dreams 
 
 Of sacred peace, shone forth and flitted past, 
 
 To leave no trace upon the inward heart, 
 
 That dwells on permanence of love's sweet fire. 
 
 But once a maid of holy mien and fair 
 
 Came like a presentation of the worth 
 
 That Heaven gives to earth, to prove the pledge 
 
 And promise of the prize of patient days 
 
 Of struggling virtue in time's path of pain. 
 
 Bright Phoebe Runnels dawned upon his gaze, 
 
 And then his eyes ceased roaming, for the gleam 
 
 Of her pure nature gave conception rest 
 
 That longed for perfectness of aspect seen 
 
 And object loved, the end of heart's desire. 
 
 In love's captivity, she likewise held 
 
 His form the consummation of the strength 
 
 And grace of manhood, while her restless thought, 
 
 Of instinct womanly, revolved the pride 
 
 And praise of pristine birthright ; and the flame 
 
 Of bright romance, that burned within the fact 
 
 And fame of danger wild and rescue fierce 
 
 Upon the field of arms, lured on her heart 
 
26 ABRAHAM KIMBALL. 
 
 To its last sacrifice, as in the depths 
 
 Of ocean sinks the form of one who drowns, 
 
 In resignation sweet of life that grieves. 
 
 The holy man the sacred bond confirmed, 
 
 And craved God's blessing on their hearth and store, 
 
 And, supplicating unto fervor, cried, — 
 
 " And, last, remember these, O Lord Divine, 
 
 When Thou dost to Thy kingdom enter in, 
 
 For full supremacy and final rest 
 
 Within the circle of thy blessed saints 
 
 In the bright Home hereafter ! " Then a wave 
 
 Of quick response surged richly in their breasts, 
 
 For both, while trained in homage to the King 
 
 Of earth, and sky, and things invisible, 
 
 Received the impulse in the deeper self 
 
 That from the heart of Heaven springs to earth, 
 
 And, through the heart of man, a blessing lends, 
 
 The present comfort and the future hope 
 
 Of souls involved in life's perplexing maze. 
 
 They reared their household altar by the hearth 
 
 Within the fortress, 29 once the safe abode 
 
 To which his sire resorted from the hill 
 
 In warlike danger's hour, and, in the reign 
 
 Of gentle peace, a home where'er the fire 
 
 Of consecrated love illumed the scene, 
 
 While thrift and plenty, kindly guests, came in, 
 
ABRAHAM KIMBALL. 2>] 
 
 To cheer and deck their humble, rustic ways : 
 And when parental gladness clasped each pure, 
 Bright offspring of affection's hallowed bond, 
 In faith they laid the treasure at the shrine 
 Of God's beneficence, in sacred pledge 
 Of holy zeal for tender childhood's cause. 30 
 
 Interlude. 
 
 |\ THOU, Whose form, unseen, yet stand; 
 
 §) Without, while ardent love appeals 
 In silence, stretching forth its hands 
 
 In welcome that the spirit feels, 
 Our hearts, subdued, ignore the din 
 Of earth and say, " Sweet Friend, come in 
 
 ! " 
 
 In this still shrine, the fruitless ties 
 Of time and sense obtain release ; 
 
 The conscience from their bondage flies 
 To fresh assurances of peace ; 
 
 Our souls, for surer faith, begin 
 
 To sigh and call, "Sweet Friend, come in ! " 
 
 Oh, hallowed change ! Bright hope pursues 
 No more a false and alien breast, 
 
 Since love aspiring faith endues 
 With skill to own its native rest ; 
 
 Our newborn selves find kith and kin 
 
 In thee and pray, "Sweet Friend, come in ! " 
 
28 ABRAHAM KIMBALL. 
 
 fHE spirit of true manhood chiefly dotes 
 On peace and in its fair environs dwells, 
 In mien submiss to justice and the rule 
 Of patient order in time's civil walks ; 
 Yet true man for exemption ne'er withholds 
 His swift resentment in the brazen face 
 Of ruthless wrong, nor fears to raise his arm 
 In truth's defence, when virtue sounds alarm 
 And bids him hasten to resist the foe. 
 The hero of this tale, in manhood's prime, 
 In satisfaction trod domestic paths 
 And civil avenues, in peace with God 
 And man, nor sought nor craved a nobler aim. 
 But life, in part transition, oft the walks 
 Of quiet turns to highways broad of strife, 
 Where right contests the wrong, and zealous sons 
 Of fair integrity the sweets of home 
 And peace resign and cheerfully assume 
 The hardships, woes, and perils of grim war. 
 A summons to him came, when England's sons 
 In martial ranks oppressed the seaport town — 
 Fair Boston — in the Revolution's dawn ; 
 And, kissing gentle wife and children dear, 
 He said farewell, and to the front repaired, 
 His heart resolved, his steadfast mind confirmed, 
 And puissant his arm, through grace that thrives 
 In the rich purpose of a soul redeemed 
 
ABRAHAM KIMBALL. 29 
 
 From worthless objects and ignoble ends. 
 
 At Bunker Hill 31 he met the deadly flame, 
 
 And saw the foe go down in ranks of blood, 
 
 His form unscathed amid the victims swift 
 
 Of mad destruction gloating o'er pale death 
 
 And ghastly wounds. Such horrid peril passed, 
 
 He rested not, but once more strove to test 
 
 Bright honor in the face of danger dire 
 
 And dissolution dark, in daring deeds 
 
 At Bennington, when dread Burgoyne came down 
 
 The fertile vale, with men a mighty host, 
 
 The civil cause and savage blended one, 
 
 To cut the slender thread that bound the land, 
 
 And east and west divide in weakness prone. 
 
 A patriotic band, with noble Stark, 
 
 Met Baum and Breyman, with detachments strong, 
 
 And rent their ranks asunder, turning back 
 
 The tidal wave disastrous till the time 
 
 When great Burgoyne his vanquished sword resigned 
 
 To his brave captor. In this valiant band, 
 
 Stood brave and gallant Kimball till the stroke 
 
 Of war's sharp weapon laid him grandly low, 
 
 His red blood proving honor's rich emprise 
 
 Upon the field of martial pride and pain. 
 
 The battle raged, and Kimball, on the ground, 
 Heard the mad din— the cannon's angry roar, 
 
30 ABRAHAM KIMBALL. 
 
 The musket's swift response of passion wild, 
 The saber's clash in vengeance born of rage- 
 Yet scarcely heeded, for his soul was dazed 
 With sudden anguish, and his startled mind, 
 Like a Hushed bird, in airy flight, assumed 
 The paths of dreamland, and in haste reviewed 
 Sweet scenes of smiling peace and happy home, 
 And in a brief, rapt moment tasted love 
 And joy supernal in the sense of worth 
 And wealth magnificent, save that a hint 
 And trace of something painful, lurking yet, 
 But indistinctly, in the farther bounds 
 Of the blest sphere ecstatic, and for which 
 His thought turned backward, vainly for the gift 
 Of full exemption seeking of dull care. 
 But, life reacting, swiftly then his mind 
 Took clearer hold of certain fact and frame 
 Disastrous, and, in pain's reviving mood, 
 Of sorrow pregnant, quick in thought he bore 
 The burden of dear home — with wife so sad 
 For lost companionship, her husband true 
 The victim of grim war, while, pitiful 
 And lone, fair children lisped in grief and tears 
 The oft inquiry of their sire's return — 
 And listed full again the battle sound. 
 Thus time wore on, the seconds minutes found, 
 And minutes hours, an hour a day prolonged, 
 
ABRAHAM KIMBALL. 3 1 
 
 The day an eon endless, and in vain, 
 
 With senses shocked and prostrate form, he sought 
 
 The issue, as he lay in plight extreme 
 
 And thought profound, but still his country's free, 
 
 True sacrifice, if Wisdom so decreed. 
 
 Interlude. 
 
 LL the stars are in the blue : 
 
 Though the conflicts of the night 
 Wound the heart and blind the sight, 
 And the soul is dumb with fright, 
 
 All the stars are in the blue. 
 
 All the clouds shall roll away : 
 In the hour of dark despair 
 For the terrors of the air, 
 In the smile of evening fair, 
 
 All the clouds shall roll away. 
 
 All the sky shall be so bright 
 That the soul that danger mars, 
 In the luster of the stars, 
 Shall discern the pearly bars, — 
 
 All the sky shall be so bright. 
 
 IS life upon his country's altar laid, 
 1^[ The hero of this tale his gift received 
 In praise again ; but wounded, sick, and sore, 
 His duty truly done, and service vain, 
 
32 ABRAHAM KIMBALL. 
 
 Release his just award, he homeward turned 
 
 His longing eyes, and traced the weary way. 
 
 Upon a patient horse, of faithful tread, 
 
 He sat in mood afflicted, though the sense 
 
 Of home, and love, and blessing, in his zest 
 
 Renewed, was solace of each toilsome day. 
 
 As once a rustic inn he reached, and stayed 
 
 A space for kind refreshment, and for rest, 
 
 And comfort of his wound, a matron true, 
 
 Of instincts tender at each hint of woe, 
 
 Came forth, and gave him balm, and soothed his pain, 
 
 And for sweet sympathy a question asked 
 
 And said, " Have you a home, and wife to cheer 
 
 Your weary hours, your journey at its end ? " 
 
 Then he with pride gave answer, and his eye 
 
 With sparkling beams disclosed his inward zest, 
 
 The while he said, " I have, indeed, and she 
 
 Who is my darling spouse has grace to make 
 
 Each care grow lighter, as I, step by step, 
 
 Bear the slow burden of the road distressed, 
 
 Her face and form still nearer." So he thanked 
 
 The matron kind, and to his way then gave 
 
 Himself to fortitude through pangs less keen. 
 
 Again a wayside home invited pause, 
 
 His thirsty tongue for drink beseeching long, 
 
 And when the goodwife straightway brought the bowl 
 
 And gave him of its plenty, with her came 
 
ABRAHAM KIMBALL. 33 
 
 A troop of happy children, and he smiled 
 And praised her lot to bear such treasures rich : 
 And she responded, " Have you children, too ? " 
 Then he with gladness said, " Six splendid boys 
 And two most lovely girls, that daily turn 
 My thoughts from pain to pleasure, as I make 
 This slow, sick journey to the pleasant hearth 
 Where joy awaits my progress at its end." 
 So loved he home and loved its praise to tell. 
 
 Each day advancing in his cherished course, 
 Each hour brought nearer to the blissful goal, 
 He soon beheld familiar scenes that lent 
 A surer promise of the object sweet, 
 Within his closer grasp, and then his heart 
 Leaped high in hope and blessed the prospect fair. 
 Each haunt and path familiar bore its charm, 
 Each cabin of the yeomen of his kind 
 Seemed smiling welcome to his face returned ; 
 And when the holy house of prayer and praise, 
 Where oft his feet had turned on Sabbaths rare, 
 Confronted vision on the village plain, 
 His thought in pious frame a solace found ; 
 And when old friends and neighbors fast came out, 
 To greet his face, and grasp his hand, with cheer, 
 And ask him of his comfort on the way, 
 And list with eager ears the news of war, 
 
34 ABRAHAM KIMBALL. 
 
 He felt the peace that homely welcome gives 
 
 To one who flees from pain to pleasure rich ; 
 
 But yet he lacked true fullness of his soul. 
 
 Each haunt and path but quickened wishes fond, 
 
 Each cabin was but sign of rest unfound, 
 
 The holy house suggestive but of bliss 
 
 That dwells in home of Heaven type and sign ; 
 
 And when a friend came forth and grasped his hand, 
 
 And gave him welcome and his welfare sought, 
 
 He thrilled as one who still some gladness waits 
 
 And looks beyond to joy yet unfulfilled. 
 
 Anon and e'er, to friendly greetings choice, 
 
 He answered but to say, "And how are they, 
 
 My precious wife and darling children eight ? " 
 
 And when one said, "All well, and longing oft 
 
 To welcome home the husband and the sire 
 
 With loving kiss, and rapt embrace, and cheer," 
 
 His throbbing heart made creeping moments long. 
 
 Then, hasting as his wounded frame would bear, 
 
 With speed that ever paused at friendly calls, 
 
 As ever from their doors came neighbors kind, 
 
 At last he spied through thankful tears his home, 
 
 And then within its shelter reaped delight, 
 
 Till when sweet Pheebe Runnels bathed his brow, 
 
 And happy children clustered at his knee, 
 
 For one blest hour his soul abandoned care, 
 
 And health a season nourished all his frame ; 
 
ABRAHAM KIMBALL. 35 
 
 And, thanking God, he courage took, as one 
 Who enters rest supreme, the world resigned. 
 
 Interlude. 
 
 ^JHE sun advances in his kingly pride, 
 J® Nor cloud obscures the splendor of his way ; 
 The herald, morn, in haste hath opened wide 
 The portals of the day. 
 
 Glad life comes forth and loyally displays 
 
 The tokens of rejoicing in the light ; 
 And zeal each past and future care allays 
 In exultation bright. 
 
 This day, sweet friend, this day is thine and mine 
 
 Faith's pledges pure our sunlit souls employ ; 
 Our memories we hide, our hopes resign, 
 Love crowned in present joy. 
 
 yw IFE'S ecstasies of gladness in the heart 
 JUL Lithe fancy urge to buoyant, lofty flights, 
 And for a space earth fades and Heaven dawns 
 On man's rapt vision ; but dull fact survives. 
 Reactive thought descends the rapid slope 
 From heights imaginative, and the world 
 Of strict reality with speed resumes 
 Its profitable sway in wise design. 
 The soldier, Abraham, of battle harmed, 
 3 
 
36 ABRAHAM KIMBALL, 
 
 In soul once lifted to the cloudless skies 
 
 Through home's bright joys, full soon in spirit fell 
 
 To the dim earth, where stolid grief and pain 
 
 Anon and e'er stern recognition claim. 
 
 The wounded frame in frequent anguish tossed, 
 
 The restless mind perturbed with vain regret, 
 
 The prompt physician's aid in oft request, 
 
 The nurse's tender hand for comfort craved, 
 
 He lingered long in troubled, anxious ways, 
 
 While near and far some hopeful, healing skill, 
 
 Or soothing service sure, he sought or found. 
 
 But he who suffers, oft in time's decree 
 
 A compensation reaches. Kimball saw, 
 
 In Wisdom's time, his strength restored amain, 
 
 And blessed his Maker, while his country true 
 
 His oft petition unto Goodness bore, 
 
 In grateful praise for love's devotion lent 
 
 And praiseful thanks for recognition kind. 32 
 
 Within the cycles of the ceaseless sun, 
 
 That notes each aspect of the changing world 
 
 Of fact and incident, occur the times 
 
 And seasons pivotal, that mark the days 
 
 When men diverge from paths, or smooth or rough, 
 
 No more to tread therein and straight incur 
 
 Their issues glad or sorrowful. The man 
 
 Whose life conspicuous this tale evokes, 
 
ABRAHAM KIMBALL. 37 
 
 In childhood's peril and in manhood's strife, 
 
 Of trouble found, and sharp distress his lot, 
 
 At last the boundary of war's alarm 
 
 And battle's dominance passed to the rest 
 
 That crowns defenders of their country's cause, 
 
 When saved to fame from serried ranks of fire. 
 
 The tempest of the Revolution fled, 
 
 And peace smiled in the sky, and then the land 
 
 Had comfort, thrift, and joy, and social ways 
 
 Expressed the deeds and arts industrious, 
 
 While happy hearths and homes renewed their light 
 
 And multiplied. The hero of this tale, 
 
 In health restored, in fresh domestic zeal, 
 
 His house established, firmer, fairer, fast — 
 
 The site his birthplace. On the eastern hill, 
 
 That far o'erlooks the vale of Merrimack, 
 
 And where the eye roams round on either hand, 
 
 To test the brightness of the landscape wide, 
 
 He fixed his choice abode, and gave his heart 
 
 To love and labor in true manhood's cause. 
 
 The patient earth, responsive to his hand, 
 
 The harvest yielded. Down the eastern vale, 
 
 Through his broad acres to the Contoocook, 
 
 Coursed a fair stream, and, where the highway straight 
 
 Runs east and west, he planned a useful mill, 33 
 
 And in good time a service rendered oft 
 
 The thriving township by its products wrought 
 
38 ABRAHAM KIMBALL. 
 
 From monarch pines, and rugged, giant oaks, 
 And kindred trees that make the forest rich. 
 In ways industrious, his constant hand, 
 In varied aptness, proved his riper skill 
 In common needs and exigencies rare, 
 As legend bears strict evidence. One day, 
 The huge propelling iron crank that bore 
 The burden of the millwheel's daily round, 
 And wrought the force alternate, to divide 
 The mighty trunk and shape the needful form 
 Of sill, or post, or board, in deftness cut 
 By the swift saw, gave way and broke in twain. 
 Misfortune thus to labor's prospects fair 
 Had hard significance, but for the mind 
 And promptness of the master, born to serve 
 The present purpose. With no smith at hand, 
 A pitchknot fire produced the potent heat, 
 The crank was in its lurid bosom laid, 
 And when the iron softened in the flame, 
 The woodman's ax became the hammer true, 
 The break correcting ; and the mill renewed 
 Its wonted action and with scarce delay. 
 
 Nor would this tale its perfect end fulfill 
 And mention lose of one true grace of heart 
 Within its hero which makes all men grand 
 Who know its virtue and its worth express. 
 
ABRAHAM KIMBALL. 39 
 
 Sweet charity adorns the human soul 
 
 That by it shelters homeless poverty, 
 
 The hungry feeds, and clothes sad, naked want. 
 
 The man whose earthly course this tale relates, 
 
 In energy of toil and prudence strict, 
 
 Still loved and fostered mercy, and the poor 
 
 And needy in his presence dwelt, and hoped, 
 
 And thrived, and smiled, and ever gave him thanks, 
 
 As unto one who loved, and, for his care, 
 
 Took price of love in love's own blest reward. 
 
 Hence runs an incident, to bear the proof 
 
 Of such assertion. By the ancient mill, 
 
 Long since demolished, was the rude resort 
 
 Of frequent workmen, taking from their toil 
 
 A little respite. In the sloping earth, 
 
 Just westward of the stream, a dugout gave 
 
 Such shelter as new life in wild domains 
 
 Oft finds a comfort and convenience safe — 
 
 The storm, the blast, the summer's scorching heat 
 
 There powerless — and, cozy, dreams of home. 
 
 One night when darkness shrouded earth and sky, 
 
 And stealthy feet stole softly on the way, 
 
 Two strangers came from some unknown abode 
 
 And in the dugout craved unbidden rest. 
 
 The place was empty, and the weary two — 
 
 A man and woman — stole therein, and stayed 
 
 Their toilworn feet, and deemed the shelter sweet 
 
40 ABRAHAM KIMBALL. 
 
 As palace to the crowned, so poor were they 
 And pitiful in plight and lonely lack. 
 Yet mystery o'erhung their hapless lot 
 The more for signs of fairer past estate, 
 Since, with but few and trifling goods in hand, 
 A patient cow was still their treasure kind. 
 The morning found them in their new resort, 
 And Goodman Kimball vainly of their home 
 And mission asked in terms both oft and straight ; 
 But when, for stress of urging, he who bore 
 Crude manhood's aspect, deigned to answer give, 
 He said, — " I, Joseph Dolloff, am the man 
 Who first for Wolfe far mounted to the height 
 Of old Quebec, that to the English arms 
 Laid down the standard on that bloody field 
 Of lofty Abraham ; and henceforth I 
 Will say no more for friend or heartless foe." 34 
 Then Goodman Kimball, pleased at firmness strong 
 And tender to his kind in need full sore, 
 O'erlooked such reticence in tenants strange, 
 And, seeing peace within their aspects mild, 
 He bade them tarry and their hearts content. 
 
 The years rolled by, and Joseph Dolloff kept 
 His humble course domestic in the vale 
 Where Fortune placed him on that silent night. 
 Of purpose limited, of harmless mien, 
 
ABRAHAM KIMBALL. 4 1 
 
 His simple mind but half his body fed, 
 
 And social kindness helped his lacking store. 
 
 In passing time, through Goodman Kimball's wide, 
 
 Indulgent heart, a small, framed hut 35 became 
 
 His priceless portion, standing on the plain, 
 
 Above the western bank that skirts the mead 
 
 Where runs the brook that turned the oldtime mill : 
 
 And when a hundred years had told their sum, 
 
 He, summoned to his fathers, left the world 
 
 And bore away his secret, though the stream, 
 
 On whose bank long he lived, still bears his name. 30 
 
 Interlude. 
 
 MIS home is where the host abides, 
 His path is where the throng coheres, 
 Yet everlasting fate divides 
 
 Himself and them, as pass the years ; 
 Of bearing strange, 
 He tries the range 
 Of common thought ; distinct amid 
 The toils that bind 
 The social mind, 
 His way obscure, his life is hid. 
 
 There is a love, and faith, and theme, 
 
 And lofty diligence in him 
 Who moves as in a mighty dream, 
 Evolved in light to others dim ; 
 And when, though meek, 
 He scorns to seek 
 
42 ABRAHAM KIMBALL. 
 
 Time's specious end he holds forbid, 
 There is a prize 
 That lures his eyes 
 
 Of subtler ken ; his life is hid. 
 
 Yet: truth's great word eternal rolls 
 Within the cycles of the sun, 
 
 To prove the complement of souls 
 That in erratic orbits run ; 
 And oft the land 
 Amazed shall stand, 
 
 When a great shadow, like a lid, 
 Uplifts and shows, 
 In worth that glows, 
 
 The wealth of him whose life was hid. 
 
 §UR earthly life is like a steep ascent 
 That rises high and higher till the peak 
 Of nature's eminence is far attained, 
 In its first aspect, in the strife of time : 
 Yet once the summit gained, the path declines, 
 And down the slope we glide and seek the plain 
 Of low humiliation, while alone 
 The subtler man, the deathless soul, aspires : 
 And happy he, who, treading once the height, 
 In peace consents to take the gentle way 
 That leads to time's last rest within the vale, 
 The while in faith his soul still seeks the stars. 
 Staunch Goodman Kimball, from fair childhood's plain, 
 Through perils, and through pains, and labors huge, 
 
ABRAHAM KIMBALL. 43 
 
 Kept up the path until life's summit shone 
 
 In sunlight clear, and then the slope assumed 
 
 In calm descent, and upward turned the eyes 
 
 Of the rapt spirit, comforted with hope 
 
 Of bliss immortal in the starry skies. 
 
 Descending thus, his soulfound gaze replete 
 
 With visions excellent, he saw a star 
 
 Beam new and radiant, and blessed the scene, 
 
 When Phoebe Runnels, love's sweet life and light, 
 
 Resigned the mortal frame and to the skies 
 
 Fled, by God's hand exalted, there to shine, 
 
 A ransomed soul, with lustrous beams divine, 
 
 Reflected from the Sun of endless day. 
 
 Strong Goodman Kimball, on the world's decline, 
 
 Knew the oft signs that showed time's tenement 
 
 Resolving to decay, and marked the fire 
 
 Pale on the hearth, observed the shattered walls, 
 
 And through the crevices, that filled the roof, 
 
 Maintained his upward, starry gaze, and smiled. 
 
 From toils and cares of earth he fain withdrew, 
 
 And contemplation craved his mind serene, 
 
 While oft reflection, turned on bygone scenes 
 
 And deeds, for others gleamed and shed delight. 
 
 With youth and childhood on his lips intent, 
 
 He o'er and o'er his warlike legends told, 
 
 And in exultant fancy lived anew 
 
 The old transactions, rife with risk and rare 
 
44 ABRAHAM KIMBALL. 
 
 In rescue from the ruth that reigns in war. 
 
 So waned his time away ; nor hasted soon 
 
 His sunset on his noon, as in the home 
 
 Of a true son, and by the hills of green, 
 
 In fair Vermont, 37 he watched his daylight's close. 
 
 When fourscore years and ten had filled their course, 
 
 He lay upon his couch, his setting sun 
 
 The west far seeking. In soft evening's calm, 
 
 A breath oft whispers on the evening air, 
 
 And on it thought takes wing in fancy bold, 
 
 But gentle, and in rapt illusion floats 
 
 Upon the mystic verge that parts the worlds 
 
 And mingles time and sense with life and love 
 
 Supernal. Thus a mundane fact implies, 
 
 In analytic view, the subtle soul 
 
 That partial flight to clearer realms assumes, 
 
 The while its face still partly earthward turns, 
 
 Its sight confused, with mingled visions caught 
 
 Of earth and sky, yet touched with hope and joy. 
 
 So Goodman Kimball's evening, in his age 
 
 So hoary, with blithe animation spent, 
 
 Declined to night ; but, ere he softly slept, 
 
 His thought, transported, in the terms of time, 
 
 Foretold eternity of blessed boon, 
 
 Though conscience yet some pangs of nature bore. 
 
 To the last scene a holy man drew near, 
 
 In pious quest, and said, " Dear brother, now 
 
ABRAHAM KIMBALL. 45 
 
 How fares it with thee on life's farther brink ?" 
 
 Then Goodman Kimball said, — " I stand behind 
 
 The breastworks strong, and see the foe go down 
 
 In ranks of fire and hotly streaming blood, 
 
 And count the triumph won, though at the last 
 
 I to decrees inevitable yield, — " 
 
 And smiled in hope upon his helpless bed . 
 
 A little space of time then wheeled its flight, 
 
 And lower sank the light of closing day, 
 
 And once a shade crept o'er the features wan. 
 
 The holy man in haste took note of change, 
 
 And for concern of kindness gently said, 
 
 " Dear brother, say, what care disturbs thy breast ?" 
 
 Then Goodman Kimball answered, — " Wounded, sore, 
 
 I prostrate lie upon the earth's cold bed 
 
 Until my Master comes to raise my form, 
 
 And staunch my wound, and pour the healing balm, 
 
 And mercy manifest to cheer my heart." 
 
 The holy man then knelt, and, through his tears, 
 
 Besought the tender care of Goodness great 
 
 And Wisdom high, and ardently his soul 
 
 Poured out in pleading for the endless love 
 
 And sure decree, in perfect faith brought near 
 
 And pledged full fast ; then, rising from his knees, 
 
 He spied the smile that crept the pale face o'er, 
 
 And said, " Dear brother, is His comfort sweet 
 
 And faith yet precious ? " Then the goodman spoke 
 
46 ABRAHAM KIMBALL. 
 
 And testimony bore, both full and glad, 
 
 To the great ransom. " I am raised," he said, 
 
 " And with the goal in view pursue my rest 
 
 Within His house Who bids me pleasure take 
 
 And pain forget in prospect of the bliss 
 
 That crowns my journey's end, and whence His guests 
 
 Come forth upon the way to greet my face, 
 
 And grasp my hand, and bid me to His hearth, 
 
 Where His and mine shall joy embrace for aye." 
 
 He spoke no more, nor once again the gleam 
 
 Of peace celestial sped his features calm. 
 
 His feeble breath in weakness waned and ceased, 
 
 And the rapt light still lingered on the clay ; 
 
 And they who saw it said, " His faith approved, 
 
 His soul released, his sorrows comforted, 
 
 His conflict won, God's angels bear him home." 
 
 Postlude. 
 
 T$\ ARK, O my soul, this subtle play 
 $/®l Of weird composure stealing on ; 
 Tried Psyche yields Irene sway, 
 For care is gone. 
 
 Now gently old allurements wane, 
 
 Each softened sense a mystic clime 
 Creates where thought affords the brain 
 No stress of time. 
 
 O, quick, resurgent life, subside 
 
 Within the chambers of this breast ; 
 Bear over with resistless tide, 
 Sweet, boundless rest ! 
 
NOTES. 
 
 1. Page 5. Putney's hill, in Hopkinton, N. H., is named 
 for the ancient local family of Putney. In the present 
 instance, mention is made only of the southerly brow of a 
 ridge of land extending northeasterly and southwesterly 
 about three miles, and near the geographical center of the 
 town. 
 
 2. Page 6. It is a fact that from Putney's hill the eye 
 observes land in seven of ten counties in the state. Points 
 in Cheshire, Rockingham, and Strafford counties are invis- 
 ible. 
 
 3. Page 6. The Contoocook, the chief river of Hopkin- 
 ton, flows in a very tortuous course through the town, enter- 
 ing near the middle of Hopkinton's western boundary, where 
 the stream leaves Henniker, and winding near the north- 
 eastern corner of Hopkinton, where it enters Concord. 
 
 4. Page 6. It is a fact that the early settlers of Hop- 
 kinton at first located the center of the town upon the sum- 
 mit of the hill under descriptive consideration. 
 
 5. Page 7. The ancient, unoccupied farmhouse owned by 
 the descendants of the late Moses Rowell was the first par- 
 sonage of Hopkinton, erected by the town for the Rev. 
 James Scales, the first minister, ordained November 23, 
 1757. 
 
48 NOTES. 
 
 6. Page 7. Putney's fort, built about 1744, stood in the 
 northeastern angle of the village road and the Putney hill 
 road. The site is now identified by the ancient cellar. 
 
 7. Page 7. Dr. John Clement, the first physician in 
 Hopkinton, had a practice that extended to as many as four- 
 teen towns. 
 
 8. Page 7. On the westerly side of the highway, oppo- 
 site the site of Putney's fort, is the ancient training field of 
 Hopkinton. 
 
 9. Page 7. The Rev. James Scales was ordained at Put- 
 ney's fort, a meeting house being then a future anticipation. 
 
 10. Page 7. The two oldest headstones in the town are 
 in this cemetery. Their half-effaced inscriptions memorize 
 Lieut. Aaron Kimball, who died July 30, 1760, and Jeremiah 
 Kimball, who died May 18, 1764. 
 
 11. Page 8. The unmarked grave of the Rev. James 
 Scales is said to be near the southwest corner of this yard. 
 
 12. Page 9. The old highway leading directly from the 
 top of Putney's hill to the village is a portion of the ancient 
 road to Rumford (now Concord), the first thoroughfare 
 anticipated by the settlers of Hopkinton. 
 
 13. Page 9. Hopkinton eventually became a center of 
 civil and social influence. It was, from 1792 to 1823, a half- 
 shire town of old Hillsborough county. In 1798, 1801, 
 1806, and 1807, the state legislature met in Hopkinton. 
 
 14. Page 10. The exact date of this event, so important 
 in the annals of Hopkinton, was April 18, 1742. 
 
NOTES. 49 
 
 15. Page 10. This large tract of land, the gift of the 
 town, was located in the northeast part of the township, 
 where now is the Buswell district. 
 
 16. Page 11. Lieut. Aaron and Susanna (Ober) Kim- 
 ball lived at this time on the top of Beech hill, near the line 
 between Hopkinton and Concord. The site of this ancient 
 Kimball home is identified by the ancient cellar on the east- 
 erly side of the highway leading from Beech hill to Buswell's 
 corner. 
 
 17. Page 13. In 1740, Charles VI, Emperor of Germany, 
 died. Maria Theresa, his daughter, was hereditary claimant 
 of the throne. Louis XV, king of France, set aside the 
 daughter's claim and caused the Elector of Bavaria to suc- 
 ceed Charles. Maria Theresa took refuge among the Hun- 
 garians in Austria, and was by them acknowledged as their 
 queen. England, supporting Maria Theresa, became in- 
 volved with France in what was known as the "War of the 
 Austrian Succession." This war is popularly considered to 
 have begun in 1744. 
 
 18. Page 13. The three fortresses built in Hopkinton 
 for protection against the Indians, the natural allies of the 
 French, were as follows: Putney's, the location of which we 
 have given ; Woodwell's, which stood just east of the pres- 
 ent village of Contoocook, a few rods southerly from the 
 present residence of Dea. Charles A. Morrill; Kimball's, 
 which stood over a mile east of the village, on the highway 
 from Hopkinton to Concord, nearly opposite the present 
 residence of James K. Story. 
 
50 NOTES. 
 
 19. Page 13. From 1744 to 1763, England and France 
 were in almost continuous war ; after the close of the War of 
 the Austrian Succession, which ended in 1748, the contest 
 revived over disputes about boundaries, and included the so 
 called Seven Years War. 
 
 20. Page 14. A Village Aqueduct Association, taking 
 water from the springs on the easterly slope of Putney's hill, 
 was incorporated in 1840. 
 
 2 1 . Page 1 5 . The day was April 1 3 . 
 
 22. Page 16. The physical stature and strength of young 
 Kimball were phenomenal. Since the year of his capture 
 was 1753, he was only about eleven years old. Yet it is 
 said that he afterwards boasted that, with only one Indian to 
 resist, he should have carried the savage off under one arm. 
 The fact that, at fourteen years of age, Abraham Kimball is 
 said to have weighed 180 pounds adds emphasis to his boast, 
 the Indian stature and strength being reputed comparatively 
 slight. 
 
 23. Page 16. Different persons have ascribed different 
 degrees of age to Samuel Putney. The best authority con- 
 siders him an elderly man. Samuel Putney, "an aged 
 man, 11 who died September 29, 1775, was probably the cap- 
 tive mentioned in the narrative of this work. 
 
 24. Page 16. The rock, since blasted and removed, was 
 upon the present farm of Horace Edmunds. The location 
 on the west of the brook was a few rods below the present 
 tannery of Horace J. Chase. The rock was large, and cleft 
 
NOTES. 51 
 
 in a peculiar manner, and a little additional constructive 
 effort made a desirable shelter for Indians. 
 
 25. Page 20. These young men appear to have been 
 children of Jacob Flanders, who had sons Jacob, Jesse, 
 Ezekiel, John, and Philip. 
 
 26. Page 20. The spot is thought to have been some- 
 where near the present High street in Boscawen. 
 
 27. Page 21. One tradition asserts that the Flanders men 
 had been at work with others in Boscawen, and that, on 
 return from the scene of toil, the party divided into small 
 armed bands, that, in case of an Indian ambush, all might 
 not be attacked at once. 
 
 28. Page 22. There is a tradition that this Indian after- 
 wards died in consequence of injuries received in his conflict 
 with the dog. 
 
 29. Page 26. In 1763, Abraham Kimball was living upon 
 the so called Bow claim in the southeast part of Hop- 
 kinton, as were also other Kimballs ; consequently, this fact 
 induces us to assume that the Kimball fort was the place of 
 Abraham's residence. 
 
 30. Page 27. The record of the Congregational church 
 in Hopkinton, to which Abraham and Phcebe Kimball 
 belonged, shows that John, their son, was baptized on the 
 13th of December, 1761. The town clerk's record gives the 
 following children of Abraham and Phcebe Kimball : John, 
 b. December 7, 1761 ; Aaron, b. April 18, 1763; Smith, b. 
 January 9, 1765 ; Job Runnels, b. January 19, 1767 ; Nabby, 
 
52 NOTES. 
 
 b. May 4, 1768. Other children appear to have been born 
 as follows: Phoebe, January 20, 1770; Isaac, March 7, 
 1774; Jacob, 1776; Benjamin, August 31, 1778; Sarah, 
 September 21, 1780. Tradition also mentions Abraham 
 and Joseph. Phcebe Runnels appears to have resided in 
 Concord before her marriage. 
 
 31. Page 29. At Bunker Hill, Abraham Kimball was in 
 Capt. Gordon Hutching's company, in Col. John Stark's 
 regiment. 
 
 32. Page 36. In consequence of his injury in battle, 
 Abraham Kimball presented to the government of New 
 Hampshire the following bill : 
 
 Bennington Aug 1 28 1777 
 Hired a horse to come to Hopkinton 130 miles 
 To Expenses on my way home 
 To a horse two journeys from Hopkinton to 
 
 Andover 
 To nursing while at Andover 
 To expenses going to and Coming from Andover 
 Pd D r John Clement 12s 6 p d D r Tho s Kit- 
 
 teridge, £4.. 16 s 
 
 loss of time About six months Occasioned by said wound 
 A true Ace 1 
 
 Errors Excepted Per Abraham Kimball 
 
 On the 14th of November, 1778, the government allowed 
 the foregoing charges and voted the claimant half pay for 
 
 £9 
 
 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 14 
 
 6 
 
 5 
 
 10 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 16 
 
 
 
 ■ 4 
 
 5 
 
 6 
 
 5 
 
 8 
 
 6 
 
NOTES. 53 
 
 two years from September 18, 1777. The following certifi- 
 cate doubtless influenced this result: 
 
 Canterbury November 9 1778 
 These certifieth that Abraham Kimball a Soldier in Cap 1 
 Joshua Baileys Compy Col Stickneys Reg 1 & Gen 1 Starks 
 brigade was wounded in the leag in the Battle at Bennington 
 
 16 th August 1777 
 
 Josiah Chase Surg n 
 
 Tradition asserts that Abraham Kimball, at Bennington, 
 knelt on his right knee to fire at the enemy. While he was 
 in the kneeling position, a British bullet struck the earth in 
 front of him, glanced, entered his right knee, and passed 
 down the lower leg. It evidently appears that such an injury 
 could hardly be other than painful and serious in its conse- 
 quences. 
 
 ^. Page 37. A vestige of Abraham Kimball's mill can 
 now be seen where the highway crosses the stream on the 
 way from the Tyler neighborhood to Buswell's corner. 
 This mill was raised October 12, 1779, when Mrs. Joanna 
 (Davis) Gould, wife of Moses Gould, being present at the 
 raising, gave birth to a son, Moses, who became a prominent 
 citizen of Hopkinton. 
 
 34. Page 40. Joseph Dollofif steadily refused to give any 
 account of his past life during his residence in Hopkinton, 
 except to claim to have been the first man to mount the 
 Heights of Abraham, at Quebec, under Wolfe, in 1759. lt 
 is interesting in this connection, however, to note that the 
 name of Joseph Dolloff appears in the company of Capt. 
 
54 NOTES. 
 
 Nathaniel Folsom, of Exeter, in the regiment of Col. Joseph 
 Blanchard, of Dunstable, in the expedition to Crown Point, 
 in 1755. The same name appears in Capt. John Titcomb's 
 company, in the regiment of Col. Nathaniel Meserve, of 
 Portsmouth, in the expedition against Crown Point in 1756. 
 
 35. Page 41. This hut, since enlarged and improved, is 
 still standing. 
 
 36. Page 41. The stream is called DollofTs brook to this 
 
 day. 
 
 t,j . Page 44. Abraham Kimball died at Peacham, Vt., 
 in the family of his son Isaac. 
 

 
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