In the younger days of the colonies,
When minions of the king held sway,
Ere the towns in pride began to rise
By swift Piscataqua,

Beside its ever-restless tide
Lay two plantations fiar;
A fertile point did them dividie,
Of excellence most rare.

Then out spoke Captian Wiggin, bold,--
Captian Thomas was he hight,--
'This point is goodly to behold,
With richest worth bedight;

'And here I’ll plant the yellow grain,
And here the axe shall sound,
And golden crops shall crowd my wain,
And plenty aye abound.'

Then up spake Captain Walter Neal—
'Now, by my faith, not so!
To weapons dire I’ll make appeal,
Ere onward thus thou ‘lt go.

'For unto the Lower Plantation
Doth this fair point belong,
And I, for its full possessions,
Will battle long and strong.'

Then stoutly spoke Captain Thomas,
For a gallant man was he:
'When you’re able to take it from us,
To yield it I’ll agree.'

Then Captain Neal turned deadly white,
Brim full was he of rage;
He ground his teeth in fearful spite,
And threatened war to wage.

And Captain Thomas Wiggin, he
Looked stern and very wroth,
And vowed a fight he’d like to see,
For combat nothing loth.

Great woe did seize good people then,
Such sad thing for to see,
As two so gallant gentlemen
Thus sorely disagree.

And interpose?d did their word,
The discord to allay;
And peace again their bosoms stirred,
Before so fierce for fray.

Then 'Bloody Fight Point,' that spot was hight;
Not from its hue, I ween,
Nor yet for its ensanguined fight,
But ofr blood it might have seen,

Had Captain Wiggin and Captain Neal
There met in mortal fight,
And the artbitration of biting steel
Had settled their quarrel right.

Now Bloody Fight Point is a peaceful spot,
On Newington’s tranquil shore,
And Neal and Wiggin are both forgot,
Save in history’s musty lore.