At the close of these exercises, the family proceeded on foot and in carriages to view the site of the homestead of our first parents, Zachary and Agnes. Those possessed of vivid imaginations undoubtedly saw, or thought they saw, the old roof-tree, under which they lived, wrought and died, and the following lines written by another Bicknell bard testified to the devotion which the spot holds in his affections.
In sixteen hundred thirty-five or that time near,
Our Grandfather’s Grandfather settled here.
We know not for certain, but believe ‘tis the spot,
Where our Grandfather’s Grandfather built him his cot.
And we his descendants have met here to day,
To bow at the shrine, where he used to pray;
And drop a loving tear on this dear old spot
Where our Grandfather’s Grandfather built him his cot.
We have come, dear friends, from far, far away,
To spend in communion, this one short day;
And we trust the occasion will ne’er be forgot
That we spent where our Grandfather built him his cot.
And oh! may we carry away from here,
A loving regard for our Grandfather dear;
And may we be found to stand in our lot
As did our Grandfather, who died on this spot.
And now, dear friends, before we part,
Let each of us pledge, from our own true heart,
To keep in remembrance this day and this spot,
Where our Grandfather’s Grandfather dwelt in his cot.
We are passing away, passing away,
Some of our friends going most every day;
Who of us may be called on the morrow
To leave fond, fond hearts, breaking with sorrow?
Let us be looking to mansions above
Where the just ever dwell in the presence of Love;
Where our Grandfather’s Grandfather lives evermore,
Who went from this cot to the evergreen shore.
JOSEPH G. BICKNELL.
From thence the party proceeded to King Oak Hill, a commanding eminence, near the fine residence of W. E. Bicknell. Here the magnificent landscape and waterscape, with the long coast line of Massachusetts Bay, from Nantasket Beach to Cape Ann, were admired by all lovers of grandly picturesque scenery, while the beauties were more carefully explored by the fine telescope of Alfred Bicknell, and the points of historic interest were pointed out and explained by Rev. Mr. Titus of the Weymouth Historical Society. One of the attractions at King Oak Hill was W. E. Bicknell’s grapery, which offered a free lunch to all lovers of nice fruits. After an hour spent in surveying the natural scenery of Weymouth, Hingham, Abington, Braintree, Quincy, Dorchester, Boston, the Blue Hills, the Atlantic, with its bays and harbors, and all near and adjacent parts, the company proceeded to the Old North Church, founded by the emigrants under Rev. Joseph Hull, and thence to the cemetery, where "the forefathers of the village sleep." Here among the old graves, were found slate-stone slabs, to the memory of John Bicknell3, Joseph4 and Mary5, with other mounds, marked only by the autumn golden rod, and the evergreen junipers. Our thoughts were only filled with gratitude to God that He gave to us so goodly an ancestry, while from the heavens, may be, looked down and hovered near, the spirits of those who were rejoicing in a posterity, not wholly unmindful of the rich blessings flowing from such a heritage. One thought lingered with us as we separated with hearty hand-shakings and warm fraternal feelings from this first family re-union, that perhaps on the two hundred and fiftieth anniversary of the year of our American life as Bicknells, a thousand of our name and descent might gather on that consecrated spot to erect a substantial monument in memory of
ZACHARY AND AGNES BICKNELL,