§4 Poems on Hammertown

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HAMMERTOWN

Written for The Herald by Charles Knickerbocker

Tis winter now, but spring is near,
And A-teen A. T. 5 is here;
And nineteen hundred soon will be
A welcome guest on land and sea.
Old Dutchess County true and tried
Is yet today the nation's pride.

New York State has a claim on thee,
But thou hast none to royalty.
Our famous Hudson marks a line,
A boundary for future time.
Thou art a country rich and strong
For right contending, not for wrong.

Near the Columbia County line,
A factory stood in "fifty-nine" -
But when the civil war began
It changed the entire future plan.
The Colonel died and business ceased
Except the factory farther east.

This, did a corporation buy,
And thought they would the business try;
They built an office, and beside
Repairing did, displaying pride,
And for a while went matters well
But troubles soon the firm befell.

These works at home, no person bought,
And very soon they came to naught.
Of brick and stone were they, and fine,
With wheels and shafts of oak and pine,
But steadily they went to rot
And in a short time they were not.
The hammer's stroke we failed to hear,
It came not ringing on the ear;
The hum and buzz of wheels had ceased,
From duty was the works released.
Distress lay pictured soon around,
And quiet reigned in Hammertown.

The tannery across the way
Fine workmanship did then display;
Now, workmen there have few become,
But yet the place the people shun.
The chimney tall doth trav'lers spy
But perfumes never gratify.

The Colonel's residence was sold
A little cottage quaint and old;
The workmen's dwelling also went,
But not without the heirs' consent.
The grinding works were sold for ought,
With soldier's bounty money bought.

The building built of stone yet stands,
And seems to satisfy demands;
A farmer keeps his milk in it,
And possibly with benefit.
The roof is gone, the dyke is dry,
And marvels man when passing by.

Here, scythes were made the grass to mow,
Before machines were all the go.
Here, labor triumphed in its day;
The men worked not alone for pay.
here goods as fine as any made
Found market with the jobbing trade.

For many years did business thrive,
The men were daily on the drive;
The firm ambitious were and knew
'Twas policy good work to do.
Harris & Knickerbocker's scythes
Were first to carry off the prize.

But now what doth the passer spy?
Nothing but ruins meet his eye;
The label bore date when the land
Was wrenched from old King George's hand.
In eighteen thirty-five were they
Rebuilt, and most substantially.

The goods were welcomed near and far,
The heart stamp always stood at par,
Throughout this land could they be seen
And second were to none, I ween.
Upon the broad Pacific coast
Did tradesmen of their merits boast.

Australia also for them sought,
And of the New York jobbers bought;
They market on the Gulf coast found
In short, the whole world well around.
But now they wield no longer sway,
Machines are all the rage today.

C.E.K.1

The above was copied from The Pine Plains Herald, dated January 30, 1885.

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HAMMERTOWN

Twas three and thirty years ago
When I was but a lad,
That Hammertown was all aglow,
A reputation had.
Here men of business could be found,
One Culver did here dwell;
Eight healthy children did abound.
And for them all went well.

One daughter died while young in years,
And Mary was her name;
A son, the eldest as appears,
Died in his search for fame.
The balance moved twelve miles away,
To Harlem railroad near;
The eldest daughter, cheerful, gay,
Was married here -- right here.

They were at this date growing gray,
The old folks do 1 mean;
And Laura soon did move away
Where cares were little seen,
And soon the others married got,
And all things changed became;
New parties anchored to the spot,
Duxbury was their name.

Old Colonel Harris lived across
The road at just this date;
A scythe works had he, they were "boss"
He had a clever mate.
The twain did some fine work here do,
Their goods stood well and high;
And many who these works did view
Will not these facts deny.

Harris and Knickerbocker's scythes
Were not a scanty few;
For years were they truly a prize
Until machines we view.
And then the scythe works went to rack
As fast as they could go;
The cradle works take the same track,
With horses now they mow.

These scythes all round the country went
A good name did they bear;
But they at home were not content,
Few could with them compare.
In California were they found,
And other lands as well;
Success has all their efforts crowned.
But now no more they sell.

Another Hammertown there stood
Some eighteen miles away;
Eight hammers that were truly good
Did then their call obey.
But after Colonel died they went
To ruin very fast;
The heirs doubtless his money spent,
The income was not vast.

At home we had a place to grind
Some three miles up the stream:
Here did I work, employment find,
Of care I here could dream.
I drove the team when large enough,
Hauling the scythes about;
The hill was steep, the road oft rough,
And here we fished for trout.

One Henry Husted lived next door
To Colonel's cot, and then
Across the bridge ten rods or more
Had Peter's tannery been.
here did the boys run in when cold
To warm their feet and hands;
But long ago the place was sold
And Sadler changes plans.

In winter here I rode down hill,
And girls oft with us did;
here noise was rife, 'twas seldom still,
Here now lives soldier Sid.
He fought for colored men and he
Lost in the war a leg;
He fought for black man's liberty,
And made the fellows beg.

A carpenter one dwelling bought,
But he works little now;
The tanner our old dwelling sought,
'Twas homely anyhow;
A colored gentleman bought one,
A cousin did the same;
A farmer here life's cares begun,
McClellan was his name.

An engine in the tan-shop stands,
And ten horse power is it;
This place is now in other hands,
Do not this fact forget.
But Hammertown is quiet now,
No racket there we hear;
The people for a living plow,
And cider make each year.

The world moves on and soon will we
Be called from earth away,
Into that vast eternity
Where comes no night or day.
And all should aim our Lord to please,
Should for salvation try;
Remember He our actions sees,
All flesh are born to die.

C.E.K.

Notes:

1. << C.E.K. was Charles E. Knickerbocker
2. << In Taconic, Salisbury, Conn.

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