Excerpt from Address at the Centennial Celebration of the Settlement of the Town of Lancaster, N. H: July 14, 1864 Ladies and Gentlemen A hundred years ago, the last act in the drama of the French and Indian war had just closed. France and Spain had ceded all claimed rights to the possession of territory east of the Mississippi river, and England held nu disturbed sway in the vast country, stretching from the Gulf to the Arctic sea, and from the Atlantic to the Pacific ocean. The last great struggle of the native Indians ...
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Excerpt from Address at the Centennial Celebration of the Settlement of the Town of Lancaster, N. H: July 14, 1864 Ladies and Gentlemen A hundred years ago, the last act in the drama of the French and Indian war had just closed. France and Spain had ceded all claimed rights to the possession of territory east of the Mississippi river, and England held nu disturbed sway in the vast country, stretching from the Gulf to the Arctic sea, and from the Atlantic to the Pacific ocean. The last great struggle of the native Indians to recover their hunting grounds was over. The brave Pontiac, with his five and twenty Indian tribes, scattered all along from the Shenandoah to the great lakes, and down the Ohio to the very banks of the Mississippi, over the mountains and through the prairies, had buried the tomahawk and the scalping-knife, and smoked the pipe of peace. At the first dawn of security the indomitable sons of the Pilgrims plunged into the wilderness with their axes and their rifles, to plant new homes for themselves and their posterity. On the 19th of April, A. D. 1764, Captain David Page, his son David Page, Jr., about 18 years of age, and Emmons Stockwell, with perhaps one or two others, having pushed up the Connecticut valley from Petersham, Massachusetts, through the town of Haverhill, reached the spot where we now are. They were charmed by the natural loveliness of this valley, and their fondest desires were gratified. Standing on yonder elevation, with those majestic mountains behind them, the unrivaled Pilot range on their right hand and the green hills on their left, with those bald sentinels guarding the pas sage before them, they gazed down into this paradise of meadows, with the meandering river, like a silver cord, run ning through them, all clothed in the fresh verdure of the opening Spring. What a heaven was here spread out before them! With hearts full of gratitude, they thanked the God of nature that his mysterious providence had guided them here. About the Publisher Forgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at ... This book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.
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