Memoirs of the Wilkinson Family in America, published 1869

Memoirs of the Wilkinson Family in America, 1869

Biography of Samuel Wilkinson, cont.

From mount Hope, King Philip and his warriors had crossed over Narragansett Bay near Providence, into Connecticut making friends of every tribe, rallying them around his standard; even visiting in person the distant Mohawks, to whom he portrayed in vivid colors the encroachments of the whites, and enlisting them in the common cause. Then commenced in good earnest the work of death. At Brookfield, Deerfield, Hatfield, Springfield, Hadley, and a number of other places, the savage war-whoop rang out, and the rushing flames of their dwellings became the winding sheet of many a settler in this wilderness of New England. Nearer and nearer rolled the tide of war. And when that terrible battle,

Pierce's Fight

was going on, the yells of the savages, and the rattle of musketry could be distinctly heard at the humble dwelling of Samuel and Plain. This battle was fought on Sunday, March 26, 1675, on the river between Pawtucket and Valley Falls, some say near where the Providence and Boston railroad now crosses the river. Others have located the battle-ground further up the river between Whipple's bridge and Study Hill, opposite Blackstone's residence.* We incline to the latter opinion, and it must have been on, or near the land owned at one time by John Wilkinson. The fight commenced on the east side, but was transferred to the west by the headlong daring of Capt. Pierce and his men, where many a brave fellow fell overpowered by numbers. An ancient chronicler relates the story as follows:

"Capt. Pierce, of Scituate, Plymouth Colony, having received intelligence in his garrison at Seekonk, that a party of the enemy lay near Blackstone's, went forth with sixty-three English, and twenty friendly Cape Indians, and in their march, discovered rambling in an obscure, woody place, four or five Indians, who in getting away halted as if they had been lame or wounded, but our men had pursued them but a little way into the woods before they found them to be only decoys to draw them into their ambuscade. For on a sudden they discovered about five hundred Indians, who, in very good order, furiously attacked them, being as readily received by ours; so that the fight began to be very fierce and dubious, and our men had made the enemy begin to retreat, but so slowly that it scarce deserved that name; when a fresh company of about four hundred Indians came in, so that the English and their few Indian friends were quite surrounded and beset on every side. Yet they made resistance for about two hours, during all which time they did great execution upon the enemy, whom they kept at a distance, and themselves in order. For Capt. Pierce cast his sixty-three English and twenty Indians into a ring, and fought back to back, and were double-double distance all in one ring; whilst the Indians were as thick as they could stand, thirty deep."*

Just gaze in imagination upon the scene. That little company of eighty-three men formed into a ring, surrounded by nearly a thousand savages whose hideous yells echoing amidst the forest are enough to make the knees of terror quake. The shrieks and groans of their wounded and dying comrades is enough to appal sic the stoutest heart. While above the rapid roll of musketry which envelops that little circle in a wheel of fire is heard the strong clear voice of Capt. Pierce—"Steady, men!" But courage and valor are unavailing. One after another of this Spartan band falls and expires. They close up. The ring becomes smaller and smaller. Still the wheel of fire with its radiating spokes of lightening stands firm as a rock in mid-ocean with the tempest raging around it. There is no disorderly conduct, no cowardice. Every man is true steel. It is a life and death struggle, and if despair, like a black cloud settles upon them admitting no ray of hope, then will they sell life at the dearest rate. Still they load and fire, and many a savage bites the dust. For two mortal hours this unequal strife is carried on. Overpowered at last, for the little circle is reduced to twenty only, who can wield a musket; resistance ceases. Fifty-five English and ten friendly Indians have fallen upon this fatal spot! The rest break and flee and some escape! Brave men! Gallantly did they fight and defend the life of the infant Colony. Their gory bed was truly a bed of honor. "They sold their lives at a gallant rate"—says the author just quoted. "It being affirmed by those few who did escape, that the Indians lost three hundred fighting men in this battle."

Why does not Rhode Island raise a monument commemorating the valor of these noble men, who fell on her soil in defence sic of her precious life?

Scenes like these would naturally awaken revenge in every heart. Samuel bears the title of Captain, and these were the events that paved the way, and created the necessity for such military honors. These were not piping times of peace, but of busy, bustling, sanguinary war—war to the knife, and the knife to the hilt, in the fierce encounter of the ruthless savage. Every able-bodied man shouldered his musket, and held himself in readiness to march to the scene of conflict. Samuel and his brothers John and Josias were in this war, and fought valiantly. Many people fled from their homes, and situated as Samuel was, some distance in the country alone, it is probable his wife and child fled to the garrison house in Providence for greater safety. For a time it seemed the Colonists would be annihilated. While many of the people of Providence fled to Rehoboth, and other places for safety, Roger Williams, Major William Hopkins and Lawrance Wilkinson remained at home determined to defend their own town if attacked. Roger Williams, though seventy-six years of age, accepted a captain's commission of the militia of the Colony and kept the companies in constant readiness for active service. Though the best possible arrangements were made for the defence sic of the town, yet the Indians emboldened by their success over Capt. Pierce two days after (March 29) attacked the town and burnt thirty houses. It is said when they appeared on the heights north of the town, Mr. Williams went out to meet them thinking his influence might prevail with them as it had done in other cases; but though some of the older chiefs seemed kindly disposed to him, they assured him that the young men were much too exasperated for him to venture among them with safety. He retired to the garrison house, and soon saw the town in flames. This terrible war which cost the Colonies an immense amount of treasure and blood, was brought to a close by the death of King Philip in August, 1676. He was shot by a friendly Indian, and his head was cut off by Capt. Church with a rude sword made by a blacksmith of the Colony. The sword is in the possession of the Mass. Historical Society.*

Peace again spread her wings over the Colony of Rhode Island. The people returned to their homes, but alas! the family circle in many a household had been broken, and in a multitude of instances a heap of ashes marked the place of their once happy abode.* Samuel's home was unmolested, and he returned to the quiet labors of his farm where for many long years he enjoyed the bliss of connubial felicity in the bosom of his family. Six as fine children as ever surrounded the old hearthstone of any mansion, Patience bore him, of whom neither parent never sic had occasion to be ashamed, but on the contrary, had ample reasons to feel proud. There was Samuel, the honest farmer of Smithfield, and John who went to Pennsylvania and became the father of numerous progeny, who rise up and call him blessed; and William the Quaker Preacher, who returned to his grandfather's native land, England, and whose controversial and epistolary writings bespeaks a mind well stored with knowledge, and rich in divine grace; and Joseph the solid farmer of Scituate; and Ruth, the mother of Stephen and Esek Hopkins, both representative men on land and water; and Susanna, the mother of many Angells—truly this is a remarkable family; and if ever parents had reason to rejoice that their childen were well behaved and respectable, honored and loved by the community and the nation, it was Samuel and Plain, the heads of this family.

Samuel was a Quaker, and is mentioned among the "eminent men of the town of Providence" in a letter sent by an "Association of Massachusetts Ministers" to the people of Rhode Island, making an offer of Preaching the Gospel to them gratuitously. The reply to this letter must be regarded as the sharpest, boldest, most polite note declining a proffered gift, or service ever penned in the English language.*

Samuel was for many years a member of the Legislature of Rhode Island, and aided in enacting some of her most important laws. He was an ardent advocate of liberty of conscience, and the mention of his name by Honeyman indicates the esteem in which he was held by his fellow-citizens.*

Samuel and Plain lived to be quite aged, and as the shadows of their declining years began to lengthen, and they took a retrospective glance over all the way they had come in their earthly pilgrimage, and beheld from the hills of age their children uniting their fortunes with suitable partners, and launching forth on the ocean of life, with one of old they could exclaim, "Now, let thy servants depart, for our eyes have beheld the salvation of the Lord," and we long to be at rest.

At what time Plain departed this life we are not informed, but Samuel died Aug. 27, 1726.† He was probably, buried on his farm, as there are graves to be found there, but no inscription or monument tells the passer by where sleeps the dust of this early pioneer of the American wilderness.

We know not their place beneath the green sod,
But they sweetly repose on the bosom of God.

*It is said Blackstone's house and all his papers were burned by the Indians during the war.
†See Hubbard's Narrative, p. 150, et seq.
*Lossing's Pictorial History U.S., p. 102, n. 9
*Lossing's Pictorial History U.S., p. 102, n. 9
†Benedict's Hist. of the Baptist, p. 467-471.
*History of Narragansett Church, p. 53.
†Savage refers to Samuel as follows: "Samuel, Providence. Son of Lawrance. Engaged allegiance to the King, 29 May, 1682, married 1672, Plain, daughter of Wm. Wickenden, had Samuel, born 18 Sept. 1674; John, 25 Jan., 1678; William, 1 Aug., 1680; Joseph, 22 Jan., 1683; Ruth, 31 Jan., 1685; Susanna, 27 Apr., 1688. Ruth married William Hopkins, and thus become sic mother of Esek, the first Commodore of an American fleet in 1776, and of the more distinguished Gov. Hopkins, whose chirography is so sacredly legible on the Declaration of Independence." Savage's Gen. Dict. of N.E., pp. 551-2

Biography No. III — John Wilkinson

John Wilkinson,* the second son of Lawrance, was born in Providence, R. I., March 2, 1654, died April 10, 1708. Nurtured in the wilderness amid trying scenes and hardships of border life, it is nothing strange he grew up a hardy and fearless man, always ready for any emergency, whether the athletic exercises of wrestling and boxing, or the deadly hand to hand encounter with the red men of the forest; and it was not his fate to be conquered whatever the strife. He was noted for his physical prowess, and no man in the Colony was an overmatch for him. The early records exhibit a peculiar trait of his character, and that is—an aggressive spirit. Never satisfied with present attainments he was constantly reaching out for greater acquisitions, and he was generally successful in obtaining the object of his desire. Perfectly honorable and upright, he used no artifice to accomplish his purposes. His father Lawrance, entertaining the correct idea for a settler in a new country, took up from time to time about a thousand acres of land in and around Providence, and thus set an example which his sons were not slow to follow; but by the time they came of age it was necessary to go out several miles into the surrounding forests, as all the land in the immediate vicinity was appropriated by the older men and earlier settlers.

John went up the Blackstone about seven miles, and settled on the west side of the river in a very pleasant locality near what was then, and is now, called "Martin's Wade." The whole country was called Providence at this time, and the divisions of towns and counties were unknown. The road from Providence to Woonsocket runs near the river at this place, and another road coming from the west past the "Dexter Lime Rock" meets it at right angles. Directly opposite on the east side of the river road stands a house embowered with trees—the present residence of Mr. Hale, who married Elizabeth Wilkinson, a lineal descendant of John. Here it was that John pitched his tent, and built his humble dwelling. At what time he settled at this beautiful, quiet, and really romantic place, we are not able now to determine, probably between 1680 and 1690. The present occupants affirm that the old part of a very ancient house was taken down many years ago when a new addition was put up—that said addition was taken down when another part was erected, and that the present house was built on the original site—being the fourth house that has been built on the ruins of its predecessors.

The view down the river from this place is decidedly picturesque and beautiful. The Blackstone is nearly straight to Lonsdale, and the green flats though narrow, are bordered by gentle declivities on either side. In the distance, and on the west side shoot up the spires of churches, and the many windowed factories of the Lonsdale company, while on the east side looms up that magnificent brick mill recently erected, and within a few rods of the far-famed "Study Hill"—the historic retreat of the eccentric Blackstone.

But how changed is the scene since the days of John's first settlement! Then the primitive forests bordered the river, and the heavy foilage hid the only human habitation in that direction, viz: the distinguished Richard Scott's. No railroads, no telegraphs, no villages, and no dams obstructed the waters of the river, and the only mode of conveyance through the woods by blazed trees, or with the light canoe on the bosom of the gentle flowing Blackstone.

John's neighbors in this sylvan retreat at a later period were the Whipples and the Dexters, sons of the Rev. Gregory Dexter—and from whom the "Dexter Lime Rock" takes its name—and the aborigines. The latter were very numerous, and frequently very hostile. They looked with jealous eyes on the encroachments of the white men, and used every means in the sic power to prevent the advancement of civilization. They did not hold John in very high esteem, although they feared him. The Narragansett tribe had a camp in a swamp east of the river, and John had taken up land which extended into the swamp and included a part of their camp. Although he did not molest them, yet the very presence of the pale faces was an offence sic to these lords of the soil. Whoever will take the pains to examine the old records will find a description of this land purchased at a later date by John's son, a part of which runs as follows: "one messauge or tract of land * * lying by said Wilkinson's at the 'Camp Swamp.'"*

This place has a historical reputation in R. I., and is remembered as being one of the strongholds of the savages during King Philip's War, in 1676, one hundred years before the Revolution. "Nine Men's Misery" is in this swamp, and is so named from fact that nine men were cruelly murdered, and shockingly mutilated by the Indians. Bliss in his "History of Rehoboth,"† gives three traditions concerning the time, place and manner of this deed of horror. He says: "The third tradition respecting this event, and the one which seems the most probable, and the best supported by circumstances, is, that these nine men were a remnant of Pierce's brave band, who were taken prisoners by the Indians, and reserved for torture. They were carried to a sort of peninsular of upland, nearly surrounded by Camp Swamp, and seated upon a rock in a kind of natural amphitheater, formed by the elevated ground around it. The savages commenced the war dance around them, and were preparing to torture them; but disagreeing about the manner of torture, they fell into a quarrel among themselves in which some of the Indians despatched sic the prisoners with their tomahawks. This story is said to have been related to the English by an Indian who was soon after this taken prisoner. The Indians having scalped them, left their bodies upon the rock where they had slain them, and here they remained unburied till they were discovered by the English some weeks after. They were then buried, all in one grave, on the higher ground, fifteen or twenty rods from the rock on which they were slain. A heap of small stones in a shape of the earth on a newly made grave still marks the spot where they lie." Daggett also, mentions this affair.*

There is still another tradition among the descendants of John in Cumberland, which says, these men were tortured—that they were bound to trees, and then ripped open, and their bowels wound around them and the trees together, and that they were afterwards tomahawked! The heart sickens with horror, as we contemplate the scene.

It is nothing strange that John became a terror to the Indians. Such scenes as these transpiring on his own farm, or at least so contiguous to it, and the sufferers being his neighbors, and his acquaintances, and one of them perhaps, a near relative, would be apt to arouse revenge and the most deadly hate. He was in King Philip's War, and was noted for his bravery and rashness. He was but twenty-two years of age, but he feared nothing in human form. His brother Samuel was a captain, but whether John was an officer or a private, we are not informed.

Some five or six years after King Philip's War became more turbulent again, and a battle was fought not far from the old Quaker meeting-house in the south part of the town of Smithfield, a little north-west of Scott's pond. The town of Providence was alarmed, and immediately every able-bodied man was under arms and marching to the scene of conflict. Arriving in the vicinity the crack of the musket and the whizzing of bullets warned them of the presence of the enemy. Down among the tall grass, thick as grasshoppers; behind rocks, trees, and knolls of earth were the wily savages pouring in a destructive fire upon the unprotected band of settlers. The troops were under the immediate command of Major S______. The Indians were crowding nearer and nearer, and the white men were falling here and there, killed or wounded, the prospect appeared gloomy enough. The savages were evidently flushed with success, and were making progress against the English, when the commander seizing a favorable opportunity put spurs to his horse and fled towards Providence. The old men of the town, including Lawrance Wilkinson whose three sons, Samuel, John, and Josias were in the fight, had gone out as far as the burying-ground to the north of the town, and there upon an elevation were anxiously listening to the battle. The Major out of breath, and in the greatest trepidation rode up, and with fear-oppressed utterance announced the entire overthrow and extinction of all our forces by swarms of savages. "Our men are all killed," said he. Some of the aged men hastened to ascertain the truth of the matter, and soon came within sound of the firing which was still going on with considerable energy. An old man with sorrowful countenance addressed the venerable Lawrance, expressing his sympathy for the loss of his sons. "I would much rather they should all perish like brave men, than to run away like Major S_____" replied he. His own conduct at the battle of New Castle was a confirmation of this sentiment.

The battle continued nearly all day. As the savages secreted themselves in the tall grass, the Rhode Islanders did the same. The firing was promiscuous and broken. Near sun-down the the senior officer gave orders to rise and discharge their pieces and fall in the rear. An awkward fellow cried out—"We are all discharged already." The Indians understanding that the ammunition of the whites was expended, immediately arose from their covert, whereupon the Rhode Islanders poured in a destructive fire. The savages terror-striken, turned and fled in confusion from the field—and the day was won.

John was severely wounded in this fight, and in the "Proceedings of the Generall Assembly of R. I., 25th Oct., 1682," the following entry is made:

"Voted, upon the petition of John Wilkinson of the towne of Providence, who was wounded in the late warr with the Indians, this Assembly doe allow him the sum of tenn pounds in, or as money, to be paid out of the Generall Treasury.*

John married at the age of thirty-five, Deborah Whipple and had three sons and three daughters. From this family descended most of the name in Cumberland, and several in Smithfield. The Pawtucket Wilkinsons trace their descent from the oldest son, John, who married Rebecca Scott; and a numerous branch of the New York Wilkinsons, who settled in Syracuse and Skaneateles, are the lineal descendants of Daniel, who married Abigail Inman—and the famous Jemima of New Jerusalem notoriety, was the daughter of Jeremiah, who married Elizabeth A. Whipple.

Morton S. Wilkinson, U.S. Senator from Minnesota is a descendant from Daniel—and Jeptha A., the renowned inventor of a machine to manufacture weaver's reeds, and also of the "Rotary Cylindrical Printing Press," is a descendant of Jeremiah, John's youngest son. For enterprise and business talent—money making and invention, no branch of the Wilkinson family excels or even equals this.

John was frequently honored by his fellow-citizens, who imposed upon him many offices of trust. He was Deputy for Providence to the General Court for several years, and his service was always acceptable to his constituency. He served his day and generation well.

The locality where he first settled has undergone the changes so beautifully and truthfully described by the "Quaker Poet."

"Over the roofs of the pioneers
Gathers the moss of a hundred years;
On man and his works has passed the change
Which needs must be in a century's range.
The land lies open and warm in the sun,
Anvils clamor and mill-wheels run—
Flocks on the hill-sides, herds on the plain,
The wilderness gladdened with fruit and grain
But the living faith of the settlers old
A dead profession their children hold."

John died suddenly in his 55th year, and was found sitting upon a stone by the wayside—dead.

*Savage mentions John as follows: "John, Providence. Son (perhaps the youngest) of Lawrance, by his wife Deborah, married 16th April, 1689; had John born March, 1690; Mercy, 30 June, 1694; Sarah, 22 June, 1696; Freelove, 25 July, 1701; Daniel, 8 June, 1703, and Jeremiah, 4 June, 1707. This last was ancestor of the distinguished prophetess, Jemima Wilkinson. His eldest son married Rebecca, dau. of the second Richard Scott." James Savage's Genealogical Dictionary of New England, Vol. IV., pp. 551-2.

*2 Book Records 223, Cumberland, R. I.

†Bliss History of Rehoboth, p. 94.

*Daggett's History of Attleboro, p. 52.

*Records of the Colony of R. I., Vol. III

Biography No. IV — Joseph Wilkinson

Joseph Wilkinson was one of the most active, energetic sons of Samuel. He improved every opportunity to prepare himself for business—reading every book—listening to every story with an earnestness that bespoke a hungering and thirsting after knowledge. He learned surveying from his father, who was an expert in that art and frequently called upon his boys to carry the chain. He had no school advantages; the schoolmaster was not abroad in those days. In fact the country was a wilderness—the distance from one neighbor to another precluded the idea of schools. Children, if taught at all, were instructed by their parents at home. Books were rare, but those possessed were valuable, and were well read. And here is the secret of success of those men—a few good books thoroughly read, and enough to do. The result was: energetic, practical business men—farmers, mechanics, statesmen, with unblemished moral characters. "There were giants in those days." The trouble with us at the present time—the trouble with our children is, we have to sic many books—read too many and do not thoroughly digest what we do read; too much surface work and not enough going to the bottom of things; we are satisfied with an outside view, and do not stop to pry into the cause, the reason why and wherefore of natural and spiritual phenomena. More thought is necessary. The man who thinks a good deal, will do a good deal. Your intellectual drone will never amount to anything. Joseph was a hard thinker as well as a hard worker. Situated as he was, about ten miles from the "Harbor of Providence," in the wilderness of what is now Smithfield, he enjoyed no advantages which the present day affords. But his father's house contained books, and mechanical and surveying implements. The hills, the forests, the rocks and running brooks—Nature's great Book—was open for instruction, and furnished abundant pabulum for a hungry soul. The red man of the woods, the wild animals, the sweet warblers of the groves, all were objects of attraction, and taught him many a lesson never to be forgotten. He frequently went "to town" with his father, and saw the "big ship," and the sailors and cargoes, and heard their long yarns of lands far away. He treasured all, and when he came to be a man, used all he had learned in boyhood and turned it to good account.

He was a pioneer in Scituate—one of the first men on the ground. He was there in 1700, perhaps, when he was but a youth. He early assumed responsibility, and acted well his part. When the town was set off from Providence in 1730, he was elected a member of the Town Council. His opinions were honored by his compeers—his advice was sought and followed. He was a thorough going business man. He did his own business well, and therefore the town called him to do their business. He did not disappoint them—their expectations were realized. He was a good financier, and husbanded well his own resources; hence they made him Town Treasurer. His views of civil government and law were founded in justice, therefore, they elected him to the Legislature. Judge Westcott says Joseph was the first representative to the General Assembly from Scituate. In whatever position they placed him, he met the expectations of his friends.

Joseph was a good husband—he loved his wife. She was a notable woman and deserved to be loved. On one occasion in mid-winter a daughter was lying sick, not expected to live. The snow was very deep, teams could not go. She equipped herself with snow shoes and walked twelve miles over the deep snow to see the invalid and care for her. Joseph esteemed her above gold. On another occasion while her husband was two miles away at work, she heard a noise in the sweet apple tree near the house. It was rare, choice fruit, and highly prized by all the family. Upon looking out she espied a large black bear up in the tree shaking off the apples. Bears like sweet apples, and Martha thought Bruin was getting more than his share. Her ire arose, and she determined to protect her property at whatever hazard. She seized the gun which was loaded for such occasions, and went out and fired. The explosion and springing of the gun alarmed her—she let it fall—ran into the house and bolted the door. When her husband came home from work, Bruin was stark dead! and they had bear's meat for some time after that. Joseph prized his wife above rubies. So common were bears at this time that log folds were built to protect the sheep from their predatory incursions. Joseph built his near the house, and when these prowlers in quest of mutton were heard rolling the logs, the old gun would awaken mid-night echoes among the hills of Scituate.

Joseph was a kind father—he loved his children and made provision for them by giving them good farms, and starting them with a respectable outfit in life. He gave Benjamin one hundred acres and Ishmael, eighty acres of land.*

The consideration of those deeds was the "love, good-will and affection" he bore "his loving sons."

Joseph had something to do with military matters. He is called Lieutenant in public documents. Frequent collisions with the Indians rendered it necessary to equip, train and observe military discipline. Personally he was on good terms with the red-men. They rendezvoused near his dwelling. On one occasion they held a pow-wow and dance on his premises. A thunder-storm drove them all into the house. They consumed everything they could find and departed without even so much as thanking the proprietor for their entertainment. Sometime afterwards they called and left some very fine venison.

Joseph built one of the finest houses in Scituate, and the first one finished off in panel work. It was erected in 1725, or thereabouts, a little north of the Drew place. It was two stories high with two square rooms below—an entry in front, and three rooms and a pantry in the back part. The second story had six rooms. This house was burned in the winter of 1854-5, having stood one hundred and twenty years sic. So well did they build in those days.

His application to business—his perseverence and industry, coupled with the natural rise in real estate as the country became more settled, made Joseph a rich man. His cattle increased, his sheep and goats multiplied, and, like Joseph of old he was greatly prospered in this world's goods. During his life-time he owned nearly a thousand acres of land.

He died in 1740, aged fifty-eight, and his inventory of personal property enumerates five horses, fifty cattle, a large number of sheep, goats, &c., &c., all amounting to over £1200. He was buried in a field near his first residence in Scituate, where his remains still repose marked by two rought stones. The time will soon come when the last resting place of this pioneer of Scituate will be entirely forgotten, unless some of his lineal descendants erect to his memory a suitable tombstone.

Posterity of Joseph! your ancestor is worthy of this honor.

I visited this place in 1865, and as I paused at the grave of Joseph my attention was arrested by the surroundings. There stood the house as it stood in days of yore with the smoke curling from the chimney top—and there the barn with swallows twittering around it, and the feathery tribe within making the day vocal with their clarion sounds, and at my feet the mound which had for more than one hundred and twenty-five years held the sacred reliques of the departed in their calm, still sleep.

As I mused upon the mystery of life and death, and was revolving the question—"If a man die shall he live again?" the dinner horn blew, and the picture painted in Gray's Elegy was complete—

"The breezy call of inscence-breathing morn,
The swallow twittering from her straw-built shed,
The cock's shrill clarion, or the echoing horn
No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed."

*See 2 Book of Deeds, p.__, Scituate.