Q,o-ncc.r: THE LATE COLONEL WILLIAM KENT. " \_Fro»t the Concord "Monitor .""l Colonel William Kent, the oldest native male resident of Concord for several years past, died at the home of his daughter, Mrs. Mary Kirkvi^ood Hallock, at Cromwell, near Middletown, Conn., on Thursday, August 12, at 9.30 A.M., at the age of ninety-three years, four months, and ten days. Colonel Kent, up to the middle of last September, en- joyed remarkable health for a man of his years, and was almost daily seen upon Main Street, and in some of its busi- ness places. After that time, he was confined to his room in the Phenix Hotel until the 24th of last March, when he was taken to Cromwell by two of his sons, in order that he might receive the care of his daughter in his enfeebled condition. He bore the journey well, and evidently enjoyed the change. He continued to fail gradually, however, as the result of ex- treme age; and, about a week before his death, it became apparent that his end was near, as his vital powers weak- ened rapidly, and he lost consciousness of his friends. He passed away quietly, the sands of his long life having run completely out. William Kent was the eldest child of William Austin and Charlotte Mellen Kent, and was born in Concord, April 2, 1793. His recollection of events dated back into the last cen- tury ; and one of the most notable of these, and one which he recalled often with pleasure, was of his marching, as one of the school children of the town, to the old North Church, which stood on the site of the present Walker School-house, to listen to the memorial services on the occasion of the death of Gen- eral George Washington. At the age of about thirteen, he was sent to Atkinson Academy, then a noted school. While a pupil of that inslitution, he made the journey home on horseback, in company with the post-rider, who took the horse from Concord to Atkinson for him to return on, to hear Daniel Webster deliver a Fourth of July oration in Concord. Mr. Webster was the guest of his father on that occasion ; and Colonel Kent used to describe with minute- ness the appearance of Mr. Webster as he drove in a chaise to his father's house on Pleasant Street, and his fine pres- ence as a young orator. Colonel Kent's grandfather and paternal great-grand- father were both sea-captains, and possibly this gave him an inclination for a seafaring life. At the age of about nine- teen, he went on a voyage to Liverpool, as supercargo, with the expectation of following the sea. He returned from this voyage in such robust health that his friends hardly recog- nized him at first. The war of 1812, with its embargo, ended his sea-voyaging, however, and he soon after engaged in trade, in which he continued for some twenty-five years. The early files of the Statesman contain his advertisements of hardware, West India goods, groceries, dye-stuffs, paints and oils, iron and steel, etc. His place of business was on Main Street, in a building that occupied the site of Henry C. Sturtevant's store. He was chosen secretary of the New Hampshire Mutual Fire Insurance Company, after the death of Albe Cady, in 1843, and held that position until the company closed busi- ness several years afterward. Of this company, his father was president at the time of its organization in 1825, and his brother George was treasurer. He was a trustee of the New Hampshire Savings Bank at the time of its organiza- tion in 1830, and so continued for several years. He served as alderman from Ward 6 in 1856 and 1857. One of the most interesting events in Colonel Kent's life was his connection with the military display on the occasion of the reception of General Lafayette in Concord, June 22, 1825. His father was chairman of the committee of arrange- 5 merits, and entertained the distinguished general as his guest during his stay in town. The selected militia of the State on that day were commanded by General Benjamin Bradley Bartlett, of Nottingham. Colonel Kent commanded the right wing, comprising the Eleventh Regiment, and Gen- eral Parna Towle, of Epping, the left wing. It was a mem- orable gathering of the State militia, and called together more soldiers of the Revolutionary War than had ever as- sembled in this State at one time after the close of the war, two hundred and ten of them being introduced to Gen- eral Lafayette in the State House. Colonel Kent used to relate many incidents of that day of an exceedingly interest- ing character, and he ever justly regarded the occasion as a red-letter day of his life. In politics, he was a Whig, while that party had a na- tional existence, and a Republican from the organization of that party to his death. He represented Concord in the Legislature of 1832 and 1839 ; and he served as one of the early trustees of the State Reform School, now the State Industrial School, at Manchester. Soon after Amos Tuck was appointed naval officer at Boston in 1861, he appointed Colonel Kent to a clerkship in the naval office in the cus- tom-house, which position he held until his resignation of it Sept. I, 1873, when he was succeeded by his youngest son, Frederick A. Kent. At this time, he was a little past eighty years of age, but none of his interest in public affairs had abated. The next year after his resignation of the office, he returned to this city to reside, and made his home at the Phenix Hotel until his journey to his daughter was made last March. Colonel Kent was one of the original members of the Unitarian church and society in Concord, and took great in- terest in his denomination, having been a subscriber to the Christian Register, in Boston, from the date of its starting, more than a half-century ago. He was a constant attendant upon religious services until his hearing became so impaired that he could not hear the services connectedly, which was only in the last few years of his life. Among his special ministerial friends for more than forty years was Rev. Will- iam P. Tilden, formerly of this city, and now of Milton, Mass., who will officiate on Sunday at the funeral services. He spoke frequently at Unitarian gatherings ; and one of his latest efforts in this line was at the dedication of the Unita- rian chapel, when Ralph Waldo Emerson, among other out- of-town people, was present. Colonel Kent was a ready speaker, an excellent conver- sationalist, and affable and courteous in manner. He en- joyed the years he spent in Concord after leaving the custom-house, notwithstanding death had sadly thinned the ranks of his former friends. His love of his native heath was strong; and he was ever ready to make friends of an- other generation who loved the town of his boyhood and manhood, and took an interest in its welfare. He took great interest in passing events up to within a few months of his death, and was a constant reader of daily newspapers, which he perused without the aid of glasses up to almost the last of his reading, within a year. His chirography was remarkably good ; and, at his last birthday, he gratified some of his friends by writing his autograph. The last time he wrote his name in Concord was to sign a petition for the widening of the extension of Pleasant Street, just before leaving town on the forenoon of March 24. He was twice married : first, to Catherine Hutchins, of Concord, Nov. 27, 1817, who died March 12, 1839 ; and, second, to Letitia C. Stinson, of Dunbarton, who died Oct. 19, 1883. By his first marriage, he had nine children, eight of whom are now living ; namely, Mrs. Lucy Jane Wellington, Kan- sas ; Henry Mellen, Buffalo, N.Y. ; Mrs. Mary Kirkwood Hallock, Cromwell, Conn. ; John, Boston ; Mrs. Ellen Em- erson Muzzey, Cambridge, Mass. ; Charles Edward, Minne- apolis, Minn. ; and Prentiss Mellen, Boston. By his sec- ond marriage, he had one son, who survives him, Frederick Augustus, Boston. Three sisters also survive him ; namely, Mrs. Caroline Newman, of Brunswick, Me. ; Mrs. Mary Jane Thomas, of Newton, Mass. ; and Mrs. Rebecca Pren- tiss Packard, of Brunswick, Me. The first death in his family of children was his eldest son, William Austin Kent, who died at New Orleans, May 5, 1873, at the age of fifty-three years ; and the second was his eldest daughter, Mrs. Charlotte Augusta Wellington, in 1884. The death of Colonel William Kent removes the last rep- resentative, in this city, of a family which for nearly a century was identified with Concord and its interests to an unusual degree. Colonel William A. Kent, who came to Concord from Charlestown, Mass., and located here in 1789, was one of the foremost men of the town until his death, in April, 1840. He was an energetic and public-spirited man, and filled many positions of honor and trust, serving in the House of Representatives and Senate for several years. His home was noted for refined and generous hospitality. Of his sons, Edward, who graduated at Harvard College in 1821, was appointed Chief Justice of the Court of Sessions for Penobscot County, Me., in 1826 ; elected Governor of Maine in 1838-40 ; commissioner to represent the State in the negotiation of the Ashburton Treaty, at Washington, in 1842 ; Minister Plenipotentiary to Brazil in 1849, remaining there four years ; and Judge of the Supreme Court. George Kent graduated from Dartmouth College in 1814; read law and commenced practice in 1841 ; cashier of Concord bank from 182 1 to 1840; editor of the New Ha7npshire Statesmafi afid Concord Register for several years ; clerk in the Boston custom-house ; consul at Valencia, Spain ; clerk in one of the departments at Washington, from early in Lincoln's administration to some three years ago. Of the daughters, Caroline married Prof. Samuel P- Newman, of Bowdoin College; Mary Jane married Rev. Moses G. Thomas, the first Unitarian clergyman in Con- cord ; and Rebecca Prentiss married Rev. Charles Packard, also a professor at Bowdoin College ; Charlotte Mellen 8 married Hon. James H. Bingham, of Alstead, this State, who was a classmate and room-mate, while in college, of Daniel Webster, and who maintained an intimacy with the latter through life. She died some ten years ago, in Cleve- land, Ohio. All in all, it was one of the most notable of Concord families. ADDRESS AT THE FUNERAL. BY W. P. TILDEN. " Thou shalt rise up before the hoary head, and HONOR the face OF THE OLD MAN." Honor him in life, honor him when called to the higher life. The Hebrews held old age in profound reverence. It was regarded as a token of divine favor. " He shall come to his grave in full age, like as a shock of corn is gathered in his season." It was held worthy of all honor. " A hoary head is a crown, — a crown of glory if it be found in the way of righteousness." Filial reverence for it was linked with the promise of it. " Honor thy father and thy mother, that thy days may be long in the land which the Lord thy God giveth thee." Well may we honor old age, we have so little of it to honor. Few old people die. Children fall like spring blos- soms. Young men and maidens pass away like the morning cloud and early dew. Manhood and womanhood are called in the midst of life, in the maturity of their strength ; but, of the very old, few are left to die, — few, certainly, who have attained to the years of our honored friend. We almost hold our breath when we think how long " his days " have been "in the land" God gave him for his inheritance, — how far back he dates in our national history. He was born when the Republic he loved so well, dating from its constitu- tion, was only six years old. He came into the world the same year that Washington entered on his second term as President. When Jefferson — who was born on the same day of the month, just fifty years before— came into the presidential chair, William was a lad of eight years. When the War of 1812, which now seems so long ago, broke out, he was a young man of nineteen. He must have cast his first presidential vote for James Monroe, as he came to his majority three years before. On that Fourth of July made memorable by the death of two ex-Presidents, Adams and Jefferson, — an event that seems so long ago to the school children of to-day, — he was almost in middle life, over thirty. When the War of the Rebellion broke out,— of which all still in their minority know nothing, save from books and tradition, — he was an old man, about seventy. And still he lived on and on and on, to enter on his ninety-fourth year, spanning with his " length of days in the land " almost the entire life of the Republic. There were only fifteen States when he was born, Vermont having joined a year, and Kentucky two years, before. Not a steam- boat on river or lake or ocean. Not a railroad in all the land till he was in middle life. Think of the map of our country then and now ; of its population then and now ; of the vast wildernesses that have been made to blossom as the rose; of the growth and extent of our commerce by land and sea ; of the progress in inventions, science, art, philan- thropy, religion ; wiping the stain of slavery from our national flag, and " proclaiming liberty throughout all the land to all the inhabitants thereof," — think of all this, and then of one life spanning it all, and participating in it all, and we get some idea of the long and eventful experience through which our honored friend has passed. An intelligent old man, nearly as old as our friend, once said to me, "When I cast my thoughts back to my childhood, not regarding that which has intervened, it seems but as yesterday ; but when I go back to that childhood, and follow on and up, step by step, through all the long years and varied experiences of my life, it seems as if I had lived for- ever." So it must have seemed sometimes to our departed lO brother, especially as the dear old friends of his boyhood, and even his ripe manhood, grew less and less, until, at last, none were left with whom he could hold real communion of the olden times. But he has at last gone to find again those he so painfully missed here ; and we have met, not to weep, but to rejoice in the immortal hope he cherished so fondly, and to rejoice also that his long life has left so many memories that we may recall to-day with pleasure and gratitude. My acquaintance with Deacon Kent began in the sum- mer of 1844, forty-two years ago. I had come to Concord to supply the Unitarian pulpit for a single Sunday ; and, as Brother Thomas had just left, the people wished me to re- main as their pastor. None urged this more warmly than Deacon Kent, then an active and influential member of the church, as he had been from its beginning. He came to Norton, where I was then settled, and with persuasive elo- quence urged me to come, expatiating on the attractiveness of the place, the rapid growth of the city, the healthiness of the climate, the balmy and healing air from the pine plains across the river. I yielded, and came, though I remember of thinking, if the parish here had many such eloquent talkers among them, I was poorly adapted to become their minister. Here began a friendship which has never ceased ; for, though I remained here but a few years, I formed friend- ships which long absence has neither broken nor marred. When Deacon Kent came to Boston in 1861, he and his wife came to the Free Church of which I was pastor ; and so not only the old friendship was renewed, but the old sweet pastoral relationship. While with us in Boston, he won the hearts of our people by his sweet, genial spirit, his religious interest, and his reverent Christian bearing. All who be- came acquainted v/ith him honored and loved him, and the day he and his good wife were obliged to leave us was a day of sorrow. Their occasional visits, afterward, were occa- sions of joy. He was a genial man. He loved companion- ship. He was full of wit and humor. His conversational II power was remarkable. He loved a good story, and could tell it admirably. But his wit, if sharp, was always kind, and his humor, if jubilant, was unstained and pure ; for, under all this exuberance of spirits, he had a religious nature, kept alive and active by an interest in the worship and work of that branch of the Church to which he belonged, — an inter- est which never failed until the infirmities of years rendered him too feeble to go up to the house of prayer and praise, to keep holy time with those he loved. Yes, Deacon Kent loved his Church. It was during the great Unitarian controversy of fifty years ago, and more, that he became interested in liberal views of religion. He was among the first to obtain liberal preaching for Concord, before any society was formed, and still among the first to organize a church and build a place of worship. He was its first deacon, when the office meant more than it does now, and its constant friend and supporter. He was an old- school Unitarian, as he was an old-school gentleman, "^r Chamwig Unitarian!'^ — a phrase as difficult to define as " liberal Christianity." But it was a phrase our friend loved and honored. To him, it defined itself. With no bigotry and no intolerance for what are called advance views, he yet clung to that early phase of liberal thought which first won his love. He was very fond of our Unitarian literature. He was not only a subscriber to the Christian Register from the beginning, but a constant reader of it to the last, desiring each new issue should be read to him when his own eyesight failed. But, while he loved very deeply his own faith, he was little of a sectarian. He loved all Christians. He took great pleasure in attending the conference meetings of other de- nominations, — Methodist, Baptist, Orthodox, whatever the name, — to join in their songs and prayers and interchange of Christian thought, and to bear his testimony to the great truths all hold in common. And he never failed of a wel- come in these meetings. There was something so venerable in his appearance, so sweet in his spirit, so tender and sym- pathetic in his voice, that it was sure to find a response. 12 The esteem in which he was held as a citizen is shown in a beautiful tribute to his memory in the Concord Monitor, which I read with pleasure last evening, — a tribute which will be greatly and gratefully prized by his children and friends. What he was to his large family of sons and daughters they knew better than I or any one outside can tell. But we outsiders can judge of what he was to them all, not only by the general worth of his character, but by their gen- erous provision for his wants in his old age, and their tender solicitude to do everything possible to make his declining years happy as well as tranquil. I counted it a rich privilege to be present, as an invited guest, at that " ninetieth birth anniversary " of our friend, celebrated by his children. It was a charming occasion, as beautiful and impressive as it was rare. Here was the re- vered and honored father, still bright, with eye scarcely dimmed, though with natural force abated, yet with steady step ; his beloved wife beside him, who, though failing in mind, seemed preternaturally quickened for the enjoyment of the occasion ; surrounded by their children, full of filial love and devotion.; with letters and bouquets from absent friends, sent from far and near with congratulations and happy wishes; with rich gifts from precious children, the richest of all being their tender, reverent love. Oh, it was indeed an occasion never to be forgotten ; an occasion hon- orable alike to parents and children ; an occasion the mem- ory of which must have given great comfort to our friend, as the shadow still lengthened and the sunset hour drew nigh ! And, still, filial love watched over him with provident care, and a dear sister's bright mind, patient hand, and loving heart ministered to his gradually declining strength. But the decline was very gradual. Even after his ninety-third birthday, he signed his name to a petition for some city im- provement with the same firm, graceful hand peculiar to him through life ; and, of all the names appended to the paper, his was pronounced the finest specimen of penmanship. 13 At last, when the public house, where he had enjoyed so many years, seemed no longer a fit place for one so feeble, he was taken to the home of an own daughter, in another State, where he was tenderly cared for till the " silver cord was loosed, and the golden bowl broken," and the immortal spirit set free. He had longed to go for many months. He felt that his work was done, that more were waiting for him there than would miss him here. He who had kept him in life would keep him still in death, and lead him through the valley, lighted by his love, to the golden shore. Not knowing that his eyesight was failing, he spoke to those about him of the mistiness of the atmosphere, and wondered at it. So gently the dear God drew the veil as the hour of rest came on, as gently as a mother sings the eyelids of her babe together, while resting in her arms. His last act was to cross his hands upon his breast. And so he lay all night, breathing as gently as an infant, till the immortal day broke. The mist has cleared now, the vision is restored, the risen life begun. Who will venture to weep ? Not sorrow, but sacred joy befits such a rising. " We will be glad that he hath lived thus long, And glad that he hath gone to his reward, Nor deem that kindly nature did him wrong Gently to disengage the vital cord ; For, when his step grew feeble and his eye Dim with the mist of age, it was his time to die." lEoa'12 ./y^^f