QJartiell Hniuctaitji Hihtary FROM Henry Woodward Sackett, 75 A BEQUEST Cornell University Library F7 .F54 1898 as of New England : olin 3 1924 030 935 435 Cornell University Library The original of tiiis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924030935435 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND OR THE PURITAN THEOCRACY IN ITS RELATIONS TO CIVIL AND RELIGIOUS LIBERTY BY JOHN FISKE ' w JnA^u 'p THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND OR THE PURITAN THEOCRACY IN ITS RELATIONS TO CIVIL AND RELIGIOUS LIBERTY BY JOHN FISKE ILLUSTRATED WITH PORTRAITS, MAPS, FACSIMILES CONTEMPORARY VIEWS, PRINTS, AND OTHER HISTORIC MATERIALS The Lord Christ intends to achieve greater matters by this little handful than the world is aware of. — Edward Johnson, Wonder-Working Providence of Zion^s Saviour in New England^ ibS4 BOSTON AND NEW YORK HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY atfte jRitJei-iibe II^kH, Cambciboe MDCCCXCVTII A7f ^-^7^ COPYRIGH'Jj l88g, BY JOHN KISKE COPYRIGHT, 189S, EY HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND CO. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO MY DEAR CLASSMATES BENJAMIN THOMPSON FROTHINGHAM WILLIAM AUGUSTUS WHITE AND FREDERIC CROMWELL / DEDICATE THIS BOOK PREFACE In applying to the present work the same principle of illustration that was. adopted in the case of " The American Revolution," in admitting nothing for the mere sake of em- bellishment, it must be pointed out that the conditions are in some respects less favourable. Of the kind of illustra- tions that possess real historical value, authentic portraits are among the most important. Now the portraits of emi- nent Americans of the latter half of the eighteenth century are abundant. The works of Copley, Stuart, Trumbull, and the elder Peale are legion, and they include most of the leading men of their time. With the founders of New Eng- land the case is different. Well-authenticated portraits of many of them have been preserved ; but of some of- the most eminent none are now known to be in existence, and in some cases probably none were ever made. It is my rule to select for full-page photogravures the portraits of the most notable or most interesting personages who play- a part in the narrative. The preeminence of such rnen, for exam- ple, as Winthrop, Cotton, Davenport, and Vane is thus em- phasized. How sad it is, then, to mi^s from the front rank of our gallery such men as William Bradford and Roger Wil- liams and Thomas Hooker ! The most painstaking research has failed to discover any portraits of these worthies. ^ 1 A portrait purporting to be that of Roger Williams was engraved in Benedict's History of the Baptists, 1847, and may have been fre- quently reproduced, but it has been proved to be a mere fraud. See Memorial History of Boston, i. 173. viii PREFACE Again, how delightful it would be to have before us the features of stout-hearted John Wise, of the enthusiastic Edward Johnson, of the pungent " Simple Cobler of Agga- wam," of the much-tried Samuel Gorton, of the martyred Mary Dyer, or the gentle rhymer, Anne Bradstreet ! As for poor Anne Hutchinson, I have not found even her au- tograph signature, though it is hard to believe that it is not in existence. On the other hand, I have been so fortunate as to get some portraits which I believe are now published for the first time, — chief among them that of the regicide, William Goffe. Of caricatures and satirical prints there were plenty in the seventeenth century, but such opportunities for research as I have had in this direction have not elicited much that is of interest in relation to the founders of New England. The only thing that has seemed worth reproducing is the wicked portrait of Rev. Hugh Peters (p. 127), with the windmill buzzing in his head, while an imp is prompting him to words of blasphemy. On the other hand, the first two generations of New Eng- land were characterized by a superabundance of literature, such as it was, chiefly relating to questions of theology or of ecclesiastical and civil polity. Nobody can understand the seventeenth century without reading so many of these books as to become thoroughly familiar with their turns of thought and expression, and it has seemed to me that even their quaint title-pages must be fraught with suggestiveness to the general reader. I have therefore given photographic repro- ductions of several such titles. Quite a good clue to the social condition of a people is furnished by their domestic architecture. Accordingly, though the text of my narrative has little to do with that PREFACE ix subject, I have given several views of seventeenth century dweUing-houses, of which all are still standing (except the Bridgham house, p. 177, which was pulled down in 1873), and all have been photographed. Of public buildings in Boston long since vanished, the original King's Chapel of 1689 has left its likeness in an old print made while it was still standing ; that of the original Town-House of 1658 has been most ingeniously restored for us from sound contem- porary data ; while of the original Old South Meeting-House of 1669, in which it was voted not to surrender the charter, apparently no sketch or simulacrum exists. Especially in- teresting as a specimen of the very oldest public buildings, erected in the wilderness, is the Salem church of 1633 (p. 125) ; the contrast between it and the lordly St. Botolph's (p. 115) is an impressive index to the change of environ- ment which the exodus from merry England immediately entailed. For aid and advice I have especially to thank Mr. Wil- berforce Eames, of the Lenox Library in New York ; Mr. William E. Foster, of the Public Library of Providence ; Dr. Richard Garnett, of the British Museum ; and Mr. G. W. B. Nicholson, of the Bodleian Library at Oxford. To many ladies and gentlemen who have kindly assisted me I have made specific acknowledgments in my annotated list of illustrations. The text of this edition has been carefully revised, and in some places important additions or changes have been made. Cambridge, October 21, 1898. PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION This book contains the substance of the lectures origi- nally given at the Washington University, St. Louis, in May, 1887, in the course of my annual visit to that institution as University Professor ■ of American History. The lectures were repeated in the following month of June at Portland, Oregon, and since then either the whole course, or one or more of the lectures, have been given in Boston, Newton, Milton, Chelsea, New Bedford, Lowell, Worcester, Spring- field, and Pittsfield, Mass. ; Farmington, Middletown, and Stamford, Conn. ; New York, Brooklyn, and Tarrytown, N. Y. ; Philadelphia and Ogontz, Pa. ; Wilmington, Del. ; Chicago, 111. ; San^ Francisco and Oakland, Cal. In this sketch of the circumstances which attended the settlement of New England, I have purposely omitted many details which in a formal history of that period would need to be included. It has been my aim to give the outline of such a narrative as to indicate the principles at work in the history of New England down to the Revolution of 1689. When I was writing the lectures I had just been reading, with much interest, the work of my former pupil, Mr. Brooks Adams, entitled "The Emancipation of Massa- chusetts." With the specific conclusions set forth in that book I found myself often agreeing, but it seemed to me that the general aspect of the case would be considerably modified and perhaps somewhat more adequately presented by enlarging the field of view. In forming historical judg- xii PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION merits a great deal depends upon our perspective. Out of the very imperfect human nature which is so slowly and painfully casting off the original sin of its inheritance from primeval savagery, it is scarcely possible in any age to get a result which will look quite satisfactory to the men of a riper and more enlightened age. Fortunately we can learn something from the stumblings of our forefathers, and a good many things seem quite clear to us to-day which two centuries ago were only beginning to be dimly discerned by a few of the keenest and boldest spirits. The faults of the Puritan theocracy, which found its most complete develop- ment in Massachusetts, are so glaring that it is idle to seek to palhate them or to explain them away. But if we would really understand what was going on in the Puritan world of the seventeenth century, and how a better state of things has grown out of it, wff must endeavour to distinguish and define the elements of wholesome strength in that theo- cracy no less than its elements of crudity and weakness. The first chapter, on " The Roman Idea and the English Idea," contains a somewhat more developed statement of the points briefly indicated in the thirteenth section (pp. 85-95) of "The Destiny of Man." As all of the present book, except the first chapter, was written here under the shadow of the Washington University, I take pleasure in dating it from this charming and hospitable city where I have passed some of the most delightful hours of my life. St. Louis, April 15, 1889. CONTENTS CHAPTER I THE ROMAN IDEA AND THE ENGLISH IDEA PAGE When did the Roman Empire come to an end? . . . ■ i, 2 Meaning of Odovakar's work 2, 3 The Holy Roman Empire 3, 4 Gradual shifting of primacy from the men who spoke Latin, and their descendants, to the men who speak English . . . 5-7 Political history is the history of nation-making . . . . 7, 8 The Oriental method of nation-making; conquest without in- corporation 8 Illustrations from eastern despotisms 8 And from the Moors in Spain 9 The Roman method of nation-making ; conquest with incorpora- tion, but without representation . . . . . .10,11 Its slow development . . .11 Vices in the Roman system 11, 12 Its fundamental defect 12 It knew nothing of political power delegated by the people to re- presentatives 13 And therefore the expansion of its dominion ended in a centralized despotism -13 Which entailed the danger that human life might come to stagnate in Europe, as it had done in* Asia 14 The danger was warded off by the Germanic invasions, which, however, threatened to undo the work which the Empire had done in organizing European society . .... 14 But such disintegration was prevented by the sway which the Ro- man church had come to exercise over the European mind . 1 5 The wonderful thirteenth century 16 The English method of nation-making ; incorporation with repre- sentation 17- Pacific tendencies of federalism 18- Failure of Greek attempts at federation 19 xiv CONTENTS ' Fallacy of the notion that republics must be small . . • ip " It is not the business of a government to support its people, but of the people to support their government " .... 20 Teutonic March-meetings and representative assemblies . . 21 Peculiarity of the Teutonic conquest of Britain . . .21, 22 Survival and development of the Teutonic representative assembly in England 23 Primitive Teutonic institutions less modified in England, than in Germany 23, 24 Some effects of the Norman conquest of England . . . -25 The Barons' War and the first House of Commons ... 26 Eternal vigilance is the price of liberty 26 Conflict between Roman Idea and English Idea begins to become clearly visible in the thirteenth century 27 Decline of mediaeval Empire and Church with the growth of mod- ern nationalities 28 Overthrow of feudalism, and increasing power of the crown . 29 Formidable strength of the Roman Idea 30 Had it not been for the Puritans, political liberty would probably have disappeared from the world 30 Beginnings of Protestantism in the thirteenth century . . 32 The Cathari, or Puritans of the Eastern Empire . . . -32 The Albigenses 33 Effects of persecution ; its feebleness in England . . . -34 Wyclif and the Lollards 3S Political character of Henry VIII. 's revolt against Rome . 36,37 The yeoman Hugh Latimer 38 The moment of Cromwell's triumph was the most critical moment in history 39 Contrast with France ; fate of the Huguenots .... 39-41 Victory of the English Idea 41,42 Significance of the Puritan Exodus 43 CHAPTER II THE PURITAN EXODUS Influence of Puritanism upon modern Europe .... 44-46 Work of the Lollards 46 They made the Bible the first truly popular literature in Eng- land . . . ' 48 The Enghsh version of the Bible 49 Secret of Henry VIII.'s swift success in his revolt against Rome . 50 Effects of the persecution under Mary . . . . . 51 CONTENTS XV Calvin's theology in its political bearings 52-547 Elizabeth's policy and its effects 54-^6^ Puritan sea-rovefs 56 Geographical distribution of Puritanism in England; it was strong- est in the eastern counties -57 Preponderance of East Anglia in the Puritan exodus . . 57 Familiar features of East Anglia to the visitor from New Eng- land . . . - 58 Puritanism was not intentionally allied with liberalism . . 59, 60 — Robert Browne and the Separatists 61 Persecution of the Separatists 61, 62 Recantation of Browne; it was reserved for William Brewster to take the lead in the Puritan exodus . . . . . • 63 ' James Stuart, and his encounter with Andrew Melville . . 64 What James intended to do when he became King of England . 65 His view of the political situation, as declared in the conference at Hampton Court 65-67 The congregation of Separatists at Scrooby ... 67, 68 The flight to Holland, and settlement at Leyden in 1609 . . 68 Systematic legal -toleration in Holland 69 Why the Pilgrims did not stay there ; they wished to keep up their distinct organisation and found a state . . . . .70 And to do this they must cross the ocean, because European terri- tory was all preoccupied 70 The London and Plymouth companies ..... 71-73 • First explorations of the New England coast: Bartholomew Gos- nold (1602), and George Weymouth (1605) 73 The Popham colony (1607) 74 Captain John Smith gives to New England its name (1614) . . 74 The Pilgrims at Leyden decide to make a settlement near the Del- aware river 78 How King James regarded the enterprise 80 Voyage of the Mayflower ; she goes astray and takes the Pilgrims to Cape Cod bay 81 Founding of the Plymouth colony (1620) 82, 83 Why the Indians did not molest the settlers .... 84-88 The chief interest of this beginning of the Puritan exodus lies not so much in what it achieved as in what it suggested . . 88-90 xvi CONTENTS CHAPTER III THE PLANTING OF NEW ENGLAND Sir Ferdinando Gorges and the Council for New England . 91, 92 Wessagusset and Merrymount 95, 96 The Dorchester adventurers 96, 97 John White wishes to " raise a bulwark against the Kingdom of Antichrist " 98 And John Endicott undertakes the work of building it . . .98 Conflicting grants sow seeds of trouble ; the Gorges and Mason claims loi Endicott's arrival in New England, and the founding of Salem . loi The Company of Massachusetts Bay; Francis Higginson takes a powerful reinforcement to Salem 102 The development of John White's enterprise into the Company of Massachusetts Bay coincided with the first four years of the , reign of Charles 1 103, 104 Extraordinary scene in the House of Commons (June 5, 1628) 104-106 The king turns Parliament out of doors (March 2, 1629) . . 107 Desperate nature of the crisis 107, 108 The meeting at Cambridge (Aug. 26, 1629), and decision to trans- fer the charter of the Massachusetts Bay Company, and the gov- ernment established under it, to New England .... 108 Leaders of the great migration ; John Winthrop . . . 108 And Thomas Dudley . 109 Founding of Massachusetts ; the schemes of Gorges over- whelmed .• ~ no Beginnings of American constitutional history ; the question as to self-government raised at Watertown . . . . . in 112 Representative system estabhshed U2 Bicameral assembly ; story of the stray pig .... 112-114 Ecclesiastical polity; the triumph of Separatism . . 115,116 Restriction of the suffrage to members of the Puritan congrega- tional churches 116 117 Founding of Harvard Collfege 1 18-120 Threefold danger to the New England settlers in 1636: — 1. From the king, who prepares to attack the charter, but is foiled by dissensions at home 120-122 2. From religious dissensions ; Roger Williams . 122-126 Henry Vane and Anne Hutchinson .... 126-128 Beginnings of New Hampshire and Rhode Island . . 129 3. From the Indians ; the Pequot supremacy . . . 130,131 First movements into the Connecticut valley, and disputes with the Dutch settlers of New Amsterdam 132 CONTENTS xvii Restriction of the suffrage leads to disaffection in Massachusetts ; profoundly interesting opinions of Winthrop and Hoolcer 133, 134 Connecticut pioneers and their hardships 135 Thomas Hooker, and the founding of Connecticut . . 135, 136 William Pyhchon at Springfield 136 The Fundamental Orders of Connecticut (Jan. 14, 1639); the first written constitution that created a government . . . .136 Relations of Connecticut to the genesis of the Federal Union 137-140 Origin of the Pequot War ; Sassacus tries to unite the Indian tribes in a crusade against the English 140, 141 The schemes of Sassacus are foiled by Roger Williams . . 142 The Pequots take the war-path alone .... 142, 143 And are exterminated 144 John Davenport, and the founding of New Haven . . 145, 146 New Haven legislation, and legend of the " Blue Laws " . . 148 With the meeting of the Long Parliament, in 1640, the Puritan exodus comes to its end 148 What might have been 149-152 CHAPTER IV THE NEW ENGLAND CONFEDERACY The Puritan exodus was purely and exclusively English . • 1 53 And the settlers were all thrifty and prosperous ; chiefly country squires and yeomanry of the best and sturdiest type . . 154,155 In all history there has been no other instance of colonization so exclusively effected by picked and chosen men . . . . 1 56 What, then, was the principle of selection? The migration was not intended to promote what we call rehgious liberty . 159, 160 Theocratic ideal of the Puritans 160 The impulse which sought to realize itself in the Puritan ideal was an ethical impulse 161, 162 In interpreting Scriptures, the Puritan appealed to his reason 162-164 Value of such perpetual theological discussion as was carried on in early New England 164-166 Comparison with the history of Scotland 166 Bearing of these considerations upon the history of the New Eng- land confederacy 167 The existence of so many colonies (Plymouth, Massachusetts, Con- necticut, New Haven, Rhode Island, the Piscataqua towns, etc.) was due to differences of opinion on questions in which men's religious ideas were involved 167, 168 And this multiplication of colonies led to a notable and significant attempt at confederation 168, 169 xviii CONTENTS Turbulence of dissent in Rhode Island 170 The Earl of Warwick and his Board of Commissioners . . 171 Constitution of the Confederacy 171 It was only a league, not a federal union I73 Its formation involved a tacit assumption of sovereignty . 173,174 The fall of Charles I. brought up, for a moment, the question as to the supremacy of Parhament over the colonies . . 174,175 Some interesting questions 176 Genesis of the persecuting spirit 176 Samuel Gorton and his opinions I77-I79 He flees to Aquedneck and is banished thence .... 180 Providence protests against him 181 He flees to Shawomet, where he buys land of the Indians . 182 iVTiantonomo and Uncas 183, 184 Death of Miantonomo 185 Edward Johnson leads an expedition against Shawomet . . 186 Trial and sentence of the heretics 186 Winthrop declares himself in a prophetic opinion . . . 187 The Presbyterian cabal 1 88-191 The Cambridge Platform 192 Dr. John Clarke . .' 194 The edict against Baptists 195 Rev. Obadiah Holmes 19S, 196 Arrest of the Baptists at Swampscott 197 Trial of the Baptists, and unseemly demeanour of Rev. John Wilson 198 Dr. Clarke's unavailing challenge 199 Brutal treatment of Holmes 199 Rebukes from Roger Williams and Sir Richard Saltonstall . 200 Deaths of Winthrop and Cotton ; their views as to toleration in matters of religion . . . ' 202 After their death, the leadership in Massachusetts was in the hands of Endicott and Norton . . 202 The Quakers ; their opinions and behaviour . . . 205, 206 Violent manifestations of dissent 207 Anne Austin and Mary Fisher; how they were received in Boston 208 The confederated colonies seek to expel the Quakers; noble atti- tude of Rhode Island 211 Roger Wilhams appeals to his friend, Oliver Cromwell . . 212 The " heavenly speech " of Sir Harry Vane 212 Laws passed against the Quakers 213 How the death penalty was regarded at that time in New England 213 Executions of Quakers on Boston Common . . . . 214, 215 Wenlock Christison's defiance and victory . . . 215,216 His alleged " recantation " 217 CONTENTS xix The " King's Missive " 218 Why Charles II. interfered to protect the Qual i45 The original is a drawing by Captain Underbill himself, engraved in his Newes from America, London, 1637. The present illustration is photo- graphed from the copy of this boolc in the Lenox Library. The Old Stone House at Guilford 146 From S. A. Drake's Our Colonial Homes. The house was built in 1639, for Rev. Henry Whitfield, one of the founders of Guilford. Facsimile Title-Page of New Haven's Settling . . 147 Photographed from an original in the Lenox Library. A Chronological Table .... I5°^ li' Two pages from the 1649 Almanac, printed at Samuel Green's press in Cambridge. Photographed from an original in the Lenox Library. Autograph of William Stoughton iS5 From Winsor's America. House in Plymouth, England, where the Mayflower Pil- grims were entertained before sailing for America i 56 From a recent photograph taken by H. F. W. Lyouns, Esq., of Boston, who was born in old Plymouth. NOTES ON THE ILLUSTRATIONS Facsimile Title-Pages of-' 'John Fiske's Watering of the Olive- Plant 157 John Cotton's Spiritual Milk FOR Boston Babes 158 Photographed from originals in the Lenox Library. This John Fiske, M. A., Emmanuel College, Cambridge, was the first of my family who came to America (1637). He usually spelled his name with the final e, and its occurrence in a truncated form upon his title-page is a good illustration of what was said above, on p. xxviii, in the remarks on Standish. The Cradock House in Medford, cir. 1634 161 From a photograph. See Jones, Under Colonial Roofs, p. no. The Minot House in Dorchester, cir. 1633-40 . ... 163 From a photograph. See Memorial History of Boston, 1. 423. The Old Meeting-House in Hingham, 1681 165 . From a photograph. This is probably the oldest meeting-house in New England that is still in use. See Commemorative Services of the First Parish, Hingham, 1882. The Fairbanks House in Dedham, cir. 1636 . . . 169 From a photograph. See Jones, Under Colonial Roofs, p. 184. Facsimile Title-Page of the Bay Psalm Book . . . .171 Photographed from an original in the Lenox Library. The Spencer-Pierce House in Newbury, cir. 1650 . . 175 From a photograph. See Jones, Under Colonial Roofs, p. 73. The Bridgham House in Dorchester, cir. 1636 .... 177 From a photograph. See Memorial History of Boston, i. 435. Autograph of Samuel Gorton . ... 181 From Winsor's America. Miantonomo, his Mark .... 182 From the Memorial History of Boston. Uncas and his Squaw, their Marks 184 From American Historical and Literary Curiosities, in Boston Athe- naeum. r Gorton's Simplicitie's De- Facsimile Title-Pages of I fence . . 189 [Child's New England's Jonas 190 Photographed from originals in the Lenox Library. Facsimile Title-Pages of \ ^"^ Cambridge Platform . .93 ( Pynchon's Meritorious Price 194 Photographed from originals in the Lenox Library. The nature of the heresies of William Pynchon, founder of Springfield, is apparent from the summary of arguments given on his title-page. Some copies of the book, arriving in Boston in October, 1650, were instantly seized, and, by order of the General Court, were publicly burned next day by the common hangman. Pynchon was in various ways so annoyed and badgered that in 1652 he NOTES ON THE ILLUSTRATIONS xxxiii returned to England and spent the rest of his days tliere in peace. His book was answered by Rev. John Norton's Discussion of that Great Point in Divinity, the Sufferings of Christ, 1653, to wliicli Pynchon published a re- joinder in his Covenant of Nature, 1662. / Dr. John Clarke 196 From a portrait in the gallery of the Massachusetts Historical Society, concerning which there is some doubt as to whether it is the likeness of our Rhode Island friend, or of another physician. Dr. John Clarke, of Newbury, who died in 1664. See Thacher's American Medical Biography ; Coffin's History of Newbury ; Mass. Hist. Soc. Collections, 3d series, vii. 287, and Proceedings, July, 1844. The shadow of doubt does not extend to the auto- graph, which I have taken from the Memorial History of Boston- Sir Richard Saltonstall 2or From the original portrait, painted by Rembrandt about 1644, when Sir Richard was ambassador at the Hague, and now in possession of his descend- ant, Richard M. Saltonstall, Esq., of Chestnut Hill, Boston, who has also kindly furnished me with the autograph. Facsimile of Parts of a Letter from Oliver Cromwell TO John Cotton .... 203, 204 Photographed from the original MS. letter in the Lenox Library. I give only the conclusion of the letter, and the superscription. Autograph of John Norton 206 From Winsor's America. Autograph of Richard Bellingham 208 From the Memorial History of Boston. ("Norton's Heart of New Facsimile Title-Pages of J , England Rent 209 1 A Declaration of the Sad L Persecution 210 Photographed from originals in the Lenox Library. John Endicott {photogravure) facing 212 From the original painting (1665), in the possession of Hon. William Crowninshield Endicott, of Danvers, Mass. Autograph from Winsor's America. Autograph of William Dyer 214 From the signature of his MS. letter to the magistrates in Boston, inter- ceding for his wife ; now in the MS. collection of Hon. Mellen Chamberlain. Facsimile of Christison's Autograph Letter from the Jail 216 From the Memorial History of Boston. The original MS. is in the State Archives. Charles II 218 From an ehgraving by Blooteling, in the Gardiner Greene Hubbard collec- tion in the Library of Congress, after the original painting by Sir Peter Lely. Autograph from the MS. collection of Hon. Mellen Chamberlain. , xxxiv NOTES ON THE ILLUSTRATIONS A Pine-Tree Shilling 219 Photographed from a coin in the possession of the Bostonian Society. William Goffe 220 After a drawing by W. N. Gardiner, from the great interleaved edition of Clarendon in the Bodleian Library at Oxford, through the kindness of the librarian, G. W. B. Nicholson, Esq. The original is, I believe, at Dr. Brooke's, Leadenhall Street, London. Autograph from a MS. in the Lenox Library. Regicides hiding under a Bridge 221 From Barber's Interesting Events in the History of the United States^ New Haven, 1829 ; a quaint little book, with many quaint pictures. Autograph of Edward Whalley 222 From a MS. in the Lenox Library. John Davenport {photogravure) .' . facing ■ziz From an original portrait (artist unknown) in Alumni Hall, Yale Univer- sity. Autograph from Winsor's America. Autograph of John Dixwell 223 From a photograph (kindly lent by my friend, Epes Sargent Dixwell, Esq., of Cambridge) of an original MS. in the. possession of the New Haven His- torical Society. 'Autographs of the Royal Commissioners 224. From Winsor's America. Autograph of Abraham Pierson 225 From a MS. in Yale University Library. Facsimile of the King's Proclamation for the Arrest OF Whalley and Goffe ,. ... 226,227 Reduced from an original broadside in the Lenox Library. Facsimile Title-Page of Eliot's Algonquin New Testa- ment .... 331 Photographed from an original in Harvard University Library. Facsimile Title-Page of Morton's New England's Me- morial ... 232 Photographed from an original in the Lenox Library. Chair belonging to Eliot 235 After a drawing by Rev. S. J. Barrows, pastor of the First Church in Dor- chester, engraved in Memorial History of Boston, i. 415. The chair was the one commonly used by Eliot in his study. After his death in 1690 it was preserved as a keepsake for about a century and a half, and was then given to Mr. Barrows's predecessor. Rev. T. M. Harris, who placed it in the church below the pulpit. John Eliot {photogravure) facing 236 From a painting in the Boston Museum of Fine Arts, which has no other evidence of authenticity than the inscription in the upper left-hand comer. Eliot came to New England at the age of twenty-seven, and never crossed the NOTES ON THE ILLUSTRATIONS xxxv ocean again, but the portrait of so famous a missionary might have been painted in Boston. The late Hon. William Whiting, of Roxbury, found this picture in 1S51 in the shop of a London dealer, who could give no information as to its source. The autograph is from Winsor's America. Paul Revere's Fanciful Portrait of King Philii^ . . .239 This was engraved by Revere for the edition of Church's Entertaining History of King Philifs War, printed at Newport in 1772. King Philip, his Mark 240 From his signature to a MS. deed of land in Taunton, of which the original belonged to the late Samuel Gardner Di'ake. Autograph of Edward Hutchinson ., 243 From the Memorial History of Boston. Autograph of Simon Willard 244 From the MS. collection of Hon. Mellen Chamberlain. The Mysterious Visitor at Hadley {photogravure) facing 244 From an engraving kindly lent by W. H. Whitcomb, Esq., of Northampton, Mass. The engraving, by John McRae, is from a paintmg by F. A. Chap- man, of New York ; and was published under the title, " The Perils of our Forefathers." Autograph of Robert Treat . 246 From Trumbull's History of Hartford County, Boston, 1886. Autographs of the Federal Commissioners in 1675 ■ • 247 From the Memorial History of Boston. Autograph of Daniel Gookin . . . 248 From the same. JOSIAH WiNSLOW 249 After the original painting, now in Pilgrim Hall, Plymouth. Autograph from the Memorial History of Boston. Autograph of Benjamin Church 250 From Winsor's America. Map of the Narragansett Campaign of 1675 251 In making this epitomized map I have used the Road Map of Rhode Island, revised from the U. S. Geological Survey, published by C. A. Pabodie & Son, Providence ; the map in Bodge's Soldiers in King Philifs War, Leom- inster, 1896, p. 184 ; the map pre^fixed to Miss Caroline Hazard's College Tom : a Study of Narragansett Life in the XVUIih Century ; and a pen- cil map of the Tower Hill neighbourhood, kindly sketched for the occasion by Miss Hazard. 1 have also to thank Mr. W. E. Foster, of the Providence Public Library, for some extremely valuable and interesting suggestions con- cerning the campaign. In consulting Map No. lo of the elaborate and beautiful Century Atlas of the World, I find a very serious blunder in placing the crossed swords which indicate the location of the Great Swamp Fight. The battlefield, as there indicated, comes south of the Narragansett Pier railroad and about midway between the Saugatucket river and the northeast corner of Worden's pond. xxxvi NOTES ON TflE ILLUSTRATIONS In other words it is four miles out of place, and might be sought in vain by anybody who should put his trust in the Century map. Autograph of Samuel Appleton 252. From the Memorial History of Boston. Storming of the Narragansett Fort 253. From Barber's Interesting Events^ already cited. Autograph of William Hubbard 257 From Winsor's America. t Mrs. Rowlandson's Captivity 259 Facsimile Title-Pages of J Increase Mather's Indian ( War 260 Photographed from originals in the Lenox Library. Autograph of William Turner 262 From the Memorial History of Boston. Autographs of George Denison and John Talcott . . 263. The former is from Trumbull's History of Hartford County: the latter is from the Colonial Records of Connecticut, through the kindness of Arthur Perkins, Esq., of Hartford. Facsimile Title-Page of The Wicked Man's Portion . 267 Photographed from an original in the Lenox Library. Hubbard's Map of New England 268, 269 Photographed from an original in the Lenox Library. The Austin House in Cambridge, 1657 271 From a photograph, kindly lent by the present occupant. Dr. Austin Hol- den, librarian of the American Academy of Sciences. The house. No. 21 Linnaean Street, was built in 1657 by my great-great-great-great-great-grand- father. Deacon John Cooper, town-clerk of Cambridge. It has been known successively as the Cooper, the Hill, the Frost, and the Austin House, but still remains in the possession of descendants of John Cooper. The Lee House in Cambridge, cir. 1660 275 From a photograph. The framework of ibis house, No. 159 Brattle Street, is said to have been brought from England. For nearly a century it stood in Watertown, the eastern boundary of which was at Sparks Street until 1754, when it was shifted about half a mile westward. In the days which ushered in the Revolution the house belonged to Judge Joseph Lee, who was one of the " mandamus councillors "of 1 774. But unlike most of the famous Tory houses on Brattle Street, the Lee house was not confiscated. Its owner's Toryism was mild and his temper conciliatory, and after the siege of Boston he was allowed to return to his home, where he died in 1S02. The house now belongs to Colonel Henry Lee, of Boston. The House at North and Smith Streets, Boston, cir. 1674 277 From a photograph — kindly lent by Miss H. Williams — of a painting by Miss S. M. Lane, showing the place as it looked in 1881. AccordingJo Mr. S. A. Drake, this is probably the oldest house now standing in its ori- ginal form, in Boston. NOTES ON THE ILLUSTRATIONS xxxvii John Wilson 279 After the portrait in the gallery of the Massachusetts Historical Society. Autograph from the Memorial History of Boston. Specimen of Indian Wampum 282 From a drawing of Penn's wampum belt, in the possession of the Pennsyl- vania Historical Society. Autograph of Edward Randolph 282 From the Memorial History of Boston. John Leverett 283 From a miniature in the possession of Richard M. Saltonstall, Esq., of Chestnut Hill, Boston. Autograph from Winsor's America. Joseph Dudley 285 From a painting (artist unknown) in the possession of Robert Charles Win- throp, Esq., of Boston. Autograph from Winsor's America. James, Duke of Monmouth 287 After the engraving in British Mezzotinio Portraits, from the original painting by Sir Peter Lely. Autograph from Thane's British Autography. Simon Bradstreet 289 From the painting in the senate chamber in the Massachusetts State House. Autograph from Winsor's America. Autograph of Anne Bradstreet 289 From the Memorial History of Boston. Facsimile Title-Page of The Tenth Muse 291 Photographed from an original in the Lenox Library. Louise de Keroualle, Duchess of Portsmouth .... 293 From the original painting by Varelst in the Royal Gallery at Hampton Court. Autograph from a fragment of a MS. letter preserved in the French National Archives (G^ Contrdle general des finances), engraved in Forne- ron's Louise de Keroualle, Paris, 1886. Increase Mather {^photogravure) . facing 294 From the frontispiece to Mem.oirs of the Life of Increase Mather, Lon- don, 1725, after an original painting by Vanderspirit, in the possession of the Massachusetts Historical Society. Autograph from the Memorial History of Boston. George Jeffreys 295 From an engraving in South Kensington National Portraits, after the original painting by Sir Godfrey Kneller. Autograph from facsimile of his letter to the mayor of Pomfret, in Yorkshire, 1684, in the Autographic Mirror. James II 297 From Lord Ronald Gower's Great Historic Galleries of England, Lon- don, 1881. Autograph from the MS. collection of Hon. Mellen Chamberlain. The Charter Oak 298 After a picture of the tree painted by Brownell in 1855, the year before it xxxviii NOTES ON THE ILLUSTRATIONS was blown down. The picture was painted for Hon. Marsliall Jewell, at one time governor of Connecticut, and is now in the possession of his grandson, Marshall Jewell Dodge, Esq., of Simsbury. The present illustration is taken from a photograph of this painting, kindly procured by Arthur Perkins, Esq., of Hartford. It is said to be the best likeness of the tree in existence, but it does not show the hole in which the charter was hidden, which was on the further side of the tree. Autograph of John Allyn 299 From Winsor's America. Samuel Willard 3°° After an engraving by Van der Gucht (source unknown) in the Gardiner Greene Hubbard collection in the Library of Congress. Autograph from the Memorial History of Boston. The First King's Chapel, Boston, 1689 301 From Greenwood's History of King's Chafel, Boston, 1833. The ori- ginal source is probably an old print known as Price's View of Boston, cir. 1720. Autograph of John Wise 302 From a MS. in the Lenox Library. Sir Edmund Andros 303 From an engraving in Andros Tracts, vol. i,, after a photograph from an original painting, now in the possession of Amyas Charles Andros, Esq., of London. Autograph from the MS. collection of Hon. Mellen Chamber- lain. - Great Seal of New England under Andros 304 From the Memorial History of Boston. The First Town-House of Boston, 1658 305 From a tracing kindly lent by Mr. George A. Cloiigh, a well-known archi- tect of Boston. The picture is a reconstruction. The excellent seventeenth century architect, Thomas Joy, who built this Town-House, built also the Meeting-House at Hingham (see above, p. 165), the Aspinwall house in Brooklinfe, and the old feather store in Dock Square, and had a characteristic style. Following these clues, with the aid of the builder's specifications in the town records for 1657, Mr. Clough arrived at this drawing, which is an excellent specimen of historical research. This Town-House stood upon the same site as its successor, now commonly called the Old State House, at State and Washington streets. Mr. Clough was the architect employed by the city of Boston to restore that noble building to its present condition. See the Old State House Memorial, Boston, 1882, pp. 125, 153. William III. . . . . .... 306 From an engraving (after the original portrait by Sir Godfrey Kneller) in the Gardiner Greene Hubbard collection in the Library of Congress. Auto- graph from the Memorial History of Boston. Autographs of the Plymouth Governors 308 From Winsor's America. These five were all the governors of the Plym- outh colony except the first one, John Carver, of whom no autograph is known. NOTES ON THE ILLUSTRATIONS xxxix Facsimile of the Massachusetts Charter of 1691 . 308, 309 Photographed from the original document in the Massachusetts State House, by the kind permission of Hon. W. M. Olin, Secretary of State. Autograph of Sir William Phips, First Royal Gov- ernor OF Massachusetts 309 From the Memorial History of Boston. Tailpiece of Swords 311 From Winsor's America^ iii. 274. All these swords are in the possession of the Massachusetts Historical Society. Four of them belong to the history of the seventeenth century, and five are associated with the Mayflower colony. The middle sword belonged to Governor Carver. The next, descending left- ward, is that of General John Winslow, grandson of the doughty Josiah, mal- leus Narragansetiorum-. Next comes that of Miles Standish, and then that of General John Broolcs, governor of Massachusetts 1816-23. Starting anew at the top and descending to the right, we have first the sword of Sir William Pepperell, second, that of William Brewster, and third, that of Colonel Ben- jamin Church, the fighter and chronicler of King Philip's War. KEW ENGLAND MAINE ^ NEW HAMPSHIRE MASSACHUSETTS PLYMOUTH 1^ RHODE ISLAND CONNECTICUT f-n NEW HAVEN fefjiiitiuiket Iio-n-gitude East frtnn. Woshin^tmx THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND CHAPTER I THE ROMAN IDEA AND THE ENGLISH IDEA COIN OF "LITTLE AUGUSTUS' It used to be the fashion of historians, looking super- ficially at the facts presented in chronicles and tables of dates, without analyzing and comparing vast groups of facts distributed through centuries, or even suspecting the need for such analysis and comparison, to assign the date 476 A. d. as the moment at which the Roman Empire came to an end. It was in that year that the soldier of fortune, Odovakar, commander of the Herulian mercenaries in Italy, sent the handsome boy Romulus, son of Orestes, better known as "little Augustus," from his imperial throne to the splendid villa of Lucullua near Naples, and gave him a yearly pension of $35,000 [6,000 solidi] to console him for the loss of a world. As 324 years elapsed before another emperor was crowned at Rome, and as the political headship of Europe after the Roman that happy restoration remained upon the German come'to an soil to which the events of the eighth century had ^" ' shifted it, nothing could seem more natural than the habit which historians once had, of saying that the mighty career of Rome had ended, as it had begun, with a Romulus. Sometimes the date 476 was even set up as a great landmark .dividing modern from ancient history. For those, however. 2 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND who took such a view, it was impossible to see the events of the Middle Ages in their true relations to what went before and what came after. It was impossible to understand what went on in Italy in the sixth century, or to explain the posi- tion of that great Roman power which had its centre on the Bosphorus, which in the code of Justinian left us our grand- est monument of Roman law, and which for a thousand years was the staunch bulwark of Europe against the suc- cessive aggressions of Persian, Saracen, and Turk. It was equally impossible to understand the rise of the Papal power, the all-important politics of the great Saxon and Swabian emperors, the relations of mediaeval England to the Conti- nental powers, or the marvellously interesting growth of the modern European system of nationalities. Since the middle of the nineteenth century the study of history has undergone changes no less sweeping than those which have in the same time affected the study of the physical sciences. , Vast groups of facts distributed through various ages and countries have been subjected to compari- son and analysis, with the result that they have not only thrown fresh light upon one another, but have in many cases enabled us to recover historic points of view that had long been buried in oblivion. Such an instance was furnished about twenty-five years ago by Dr. Bryce's epoch-making work on the Holy Roman Empire. Since then historians Meaning of ^^^^^ rccognize the importance of the date 476 as odovakar's that which left the Bishop of Rome the dominant personage in Italy, and marked the shifting of the political centre of gravity from the Palatine to the Lateran. This was one of those subtle changes which escape notice until after some of their effects have attracted attention. The most important effect, in this instance, realized after three centuries, was not the overthrow of Roman power in the West, but its indefinite extension and expansion. The men of 476 not only had no idea that they were entering upon a new era, but least of all did they dream that the Roman Empire had come to an end, or was ever likely to. THE ROMAN IDEA AND THE ENGLISH IDEA 3 Its cities might be pillaged, its provinces overrun, but the supreme imperial power itself was something without which the men of those days could not imagine the world as exist- ing. It must have its divinely ordained representative in one place if not in another. If the throne in Italy was vacant, it was no more than had happened before ; there was still a throne at Constantinople, and to its occupant Zeno the Roman Senate sent a message, saying that one emperor was enough for both ends of the earth, and begging him to confer upon the gallant Odovakar the title of patri- cian, and entrust the affairs of Italy to his care. So when Sicambrian Chlodwig set up his Merovingian kingdom in northern Gaul, he was glad to array himself in the robe of a Roman consul, and obtain from the eastern emperor a formal ratification of his rule. Countless examples show that the event of 476 was under- stood as the virtual reunion of West and East under a single head ; whereas, on the other hand, the impressive scene in the basilica of St. Peter's on the Christmas of 800, when Pope Leo III. placed the diadem of the Cassars upon the Prankish brow of Charles the Great, was regarded, not as the restoration of an empire once extinguished, but as a new separation between East and West, a re-transfer of the world's political centre from the Bosphorus to the Tiber. When after two centuries more the sceptre had ^ passed from the line of Prankish Charles to the Roman line of Saxon. Otto, this Holy Roman Empire, ™^"^ shaped by the alliance of German king with Italian pontiff, acquired such consistency as to outlast the whole group of political conditions in which it originated. These conditions endured for five centuries after the coronation in 800 ; the empire preserved a continuous existence for yet five cen- turies more. Until after the downfall of the great Hohen- stauffen emperors, late in the thirteenth century, soon followed by the Babylonish exile of the popes at Avignon, the men of western Europe felt themselves in a certain sense members of a political whole of which Rome was the 4 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND centre. By the beginning of the sixteenth century this feeling had almost disappeared. Men's world had enlarged till Rome no longer seemed so great to them as it had seemed to their forefathers who had lived under its mighty spell, or as it seems to us who view it through the lenses of history. Within its own imperial domains powerful nations had slowly grown up, whose speech would have sounded strange to Cicero ; while beyond ocean were found new lands where the name of Caesar had never been heard. By the side of Louis XII. or Ferdinand of Aragon, it was not easy to recognize a grander dignity in the Hapsburg suc- cessor of Augustus ; and the mutterings of revolt against papal supremacy already heralded the storm which was soon to rend all Christendom in twain. After the Reformation, the conception of a universal Christian monarchy, as held whether by St. Augustine or by Dante, had ceased to have a meaning and faded from men's memories. Yet in its forms and titles the Holy Roman Empire continued to sur- vive, until, as Voltaire said, it had come to be neither holy, nor Roman, nor an empire. So long did it remain upon the scene that in 1790 an illustrious American philosopher, Benjamin Thompson, a native of Woburn in Massachusetts and sometime dweller in Rumford, New Hampshire, was admitted to a share in its dignities as Count Rumford. When at last in 1 806, among the sweeping changes wrought by the battle of Austerlitz, the Emperor Francis II. resigned his position as head of the Germanic body, there were per- haps few who could have told why that head should have been called emperor rather than king ; fewer still, no doubt, who realized that the long succession of Caesars had now first come to an end. I cite this final date of 1806 as interesting, but not as important, in connection with a political system which had already quite ceased to exist, save in so far as one might say that "the spirit of it still survives in political methods and habits of thought that will yet be long in dying out. With great political systems, as with typical forms of organic life, THE ROMAN IDEA AND THE ENGLISH IDEA the processes of development and of extinction are ingly slow, and it is seldom that the stages can be sharply marked by dates. The processes which have gradually shifted the seat of empire until the prominent part played nineteen centuries ago by Rome and Alexandria, on opposite sides of the Mediterranean, has been at length assumed by Lon- don and New York, on opposite sides of the Atlan- tic, form a most interesting subject of study. But to understand them, one must do much more than exceed- Gradual shifting of primacy from the men who spoke Latin, and their de- scendants, to the men who speak English merely ^y^W/-^^>^?^c?7-S::?£^ catalogue the facts of political history ; one must acquire a knowledge of the drifts and tendencies of human thought and feeling and action from the earliest ages to the times in 6 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND which we live. In covering so wide a field we cannot of course expect to obtain anything like complete results. In order to make a statement simple enough to be generally intelligible, it is necessary to pass over many circumstances and many considerations that might in one way and another qualify what we have to say. Nevertheless it is quite pos- sible for us to discern, in their bold general outlines, some historic truths of supreme importance. In contemplating the salient features of the change which has now for a long time been making the world more English and less Roman, we shall find not only intellectual pleasure and profit but practical guidance. For in order to understand this slow but mighty change, we must look a little into that pro- cess of nation-making which has been going on since prehis- toric ages and is going on here among us to-day, and from the recorded experience of men in times long past we may gather lessons of infinite value for ourselves and for our children's children. As in all the achievements of mankind, it is only after much weary experiment and many a heart- sickening failure that success is attained, so has it been especially with nation-making. Skill in the political art is the fruit of ages of intellectual and moral discipline ; and just as picture-writing had to come before printing and canoes before steamboats, so the" cruder political methods had to be tried and found wanting, amid the tears and groans of unnumbered generations, before methods less crude could be put into operation. In the historic survey upon which we are now to enter, we shall see that the Roman Empire represented a crude method of nation-making which began with a masterful career of triumph over earlier and cruder methods, but has now for several centuries been giving way before a more potent and satisfactory method. And just as the merest glance at the history of Europe shows us Germanic peoples wresting the supremacy from Rome, so in this deeper study we shall discover a grand and far-reaching Teutonic Idea of political life overthrowing and supplanting the Roman Idea. Our attention will be THE ROMAN IDEA AND THE ENGLISH IDEA 7 drawn toward England as the battle-ground and the seven- teenth century as the critical moment of the struggle ; we shall see in Puritanism the tremendous militant force that determined the issue ; and when our perspective has thus become properly adjusted, we shall b^gin to realize for the first time how truly wonderful was the age that witnessed the Beginnings of New England. We have long had before our minds the colossal figure of Roman Julius as " the fore- most man of all this world," but as the seventeenth century recedes into the past the figure of English Oliver begins to loom up as perhaps even more colossal. In order to see -these world-events in their true perspective, and to make perfectly clear the manner in which we are to estimate them, we must go a long distance away from them. We must even go back, as nearly as may be, to the beginning of things. If we look back for a moment to the primitive stages of society, we may picture to ourselves the surface of the earth sparsely and scantily covered with wandering tribes of sav- ages, rude in morals and manners, narrow and monotonous in experience, sustaining life very much as lower anima:ls sustain it, by gathering wild fruits or slaying wild game, and waging chronic warfare alike with powerful beasts and with rival tribes of men. In the widest sense the subject of political history is the description of the processes p^n^i^^ by which, under favourable circumstances, innumer- history is , 111 *he history- able such primitive tribes have become welded of nation- together into mighty nations, with elevated stand- ""^ '"^ ards of morals and manners, with wide and varied experience, sustaining life and ministering to human happiness by elabo- rate arts and sciences, and, putting a curb upon warfare by limiting its scope, diminishing its cruelty, and interrupting it by intervals of peace. The story, as laid before us in the records of three thousand years, is fascinating and absorbing in its human interest for those who content themselves with the study of its countless personal incidents, and neglect its profound philosophical lessons. But for those who study it in the scientific spirit, the human interest of its details 8 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND becomes still more intensely fascinating and absorbing. Bat- tles and coronations, poems and inventions, migrations and martyrdoms, acquire new meanings and awaken new emo- tions as we begin to discern their bearings upon the solemn work of ages that is slowly winning for humanity a richer and more perfect life. By such meditation upon men's thoughts and deeds is the understanding purified, till we beconie better able to comprehend our relations to the world and the duty that lies upon each of us to shape his conduct rightly. In the welding together of primitive shifting tribes into stable and powerful nations, we can seem to discern three different methods that have been followed at different times and places, with widely different results. In all cases the fusion has been effected by war, but it has gone on in three broadly contrasted ways. The first of these methods, which has been followed from time immemorial in the Oriental world, may be roughly described as conquest without tai method incorporation. A tribe grows to national dimensions making" ^y Conquering and annexing its neighbours, with- out admitting them to a share in its political life. Probably there is always at first some incorporation, or even perhaps some crude germ of federative alliance; but this goes very little way, — only far enough to fuse together a few closely related tribes, agreeing in speech and habits, into a single great tribe that can overwhelm its neighbours. In early society this sort of incorporation cannot go far with- out being stopped by some impassable barrier of language or religion. After reaching that point, the conquering tribe simply annexes its neighbours and makes them its slaves. It becomes a superior caste, ruling over vanquished peoples, whom it oppresses with frightful cruelty, while living on the fruits of their toil in what has been aptly termed Oriental luxury. Such has been the origin of many eastern despot- isms, in the valleys of the Nile and Euphrates, and else- where. Such a political structure admits of a very consider- able development of material civilization, in which gorgeous THE ROMAN IDEA AND THE ENGLISH IDEA 9 palaces and artistic temples may be built, and perhaps even literature and scholarship rewarded, with money wrung from millions of toiling wretches. There is that sort of brutal strength in it, that it may endure for many long ages, until it comes into collision with some higher civilization. Then it is likely to end in sudden collapse, because the fighting quality of the people has been destroyed. Populations that have lived for centuries in fear of impalement or crucifixion, and have known no other destination for the products of their labour than the clutches of the omnipresent tax-gatherer, are not likely to furnish good soldiers. A handful of free- men will scatter them like sheep, as the Greeks did twenty- three centuries ago at Kynaxa, as the English did the other day at Tel el-Kebir. On the other hand, where the manli- ness of the vanquished people is not crushed, the sway of the conquerors who cannot enter into political union with them is likely to be cast off, as in the case of the Moors in Spain. There was a civilization in many respects admirable. It was eminent for industry, science, art, and poetry ; its annals are full of romantic interest ; it was in some respects superior to the Christian system which supplanted it ; in many ways it contributed largely to the progress of the human race ; and it was free from some of the worst vices of Oriental civilizations. Yet because of the fundamental defect that between the Christian Spaniard and his Mussul- man conqueror there could be no political fusion, this brilliant civilization was doomed. During eight centuries of more or less extensive rule in the Spanish peninsula, the Moor was from first to last an alien, just as after four centuries the Turk is still an alien in the Balkan peninsula. The natural result was a struggle that lasted age after age till it ended in the utter extermination of one of the parties, and left behind it a legacy of hatred and persecution that has made the his- tory of modern Spain a dismal record of shame and disaster. In this first method of nation-making, then, which we may call the Oriental method, one now sees but little to com- mend. It was better than savagery, and for a long time no 10 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND more efficient method was possible, but the leading peoples of the world have long since outgrown it ; and although the resulting form of political government is the oldest we know and is not yet extinct, it nevertheless has not the elements of permanence. Sooner or later it will disappear, as sav- agery is disappearing, as the rudest types of inchoate human society have disappeared. The second method by which nations have been made The Roman may be called the Roman method; and we may JJSion-mak- briefly describe it as conquest with incorporation, i"g but without representation. The secret of Rome's wonderful strength lay in the fact that she incorporated the vanquished peoples into her own body politic. In the early time there was a fusion of tribes going on in Latium, which, if it had gone no further, would have been similar to the early fusion of Ionic tribes in Attika or of Iranian tribes in Media. But whereas everywhere else this political fusion soon stopped, in the Roman world it went on. One after another Italian tribes and Italian towns were not merely overcome but admitted to a share in the political rights and privileges of the victors. By the time this had gone on until the whole Italian peninsula was consolidated under the headship of Rome, the result was a power incomparably greater than any other that the world had yet seen. Never before had so many people been brought under one govern- ment without making slaves of most of them. Liberty had existed before, whether in barbaric tribes or in Greek cities. Union had existed before, in Assyrian or Persian despotisms. Now liberty and union were for the first time joined together, with consequences' enduring and stupendous. The whole Mediterranean world was brought under one government ; ancient barriers of religion, speech, and custom were over- thrown in every direction ; and innumerable barbarian tribes, from the Alps to the- wilds of northern Britain, from the Bay of Biscay to the Carpathian mountains, were more or less completely transformed into Roman citizens, protected by Roman law, and sharing in the material and spiritual benefits THE ROMAN IDEA AND THE ENGLISH IDEA ii of Roman civilization. Gradually the .whole vast structure became permeated by Hellenic and Jewish thought, and thus were laid the lasting foundations of modern society, of a common Christendom, furnished with a common stock of ideas concerning man's relation to God and the world, and acknowledging a common standard of right and wrong. This was a prodigious work, which raised human life to a much higher plane than that which it had formerly occupied, and endless gratitude is due to the thousands of steadfast men who in one way or another devoted their lives to its accomplishment. This Roman method of nation-making had nevertheless its fatal shortcomings, and it was only very slowly, moreover, that it wrought out its own best results. It was , , ° . . Its slow- but gradually that the rights and privileges of Ro- deveiop- man citizenship were extended over the whole Roman world, and in the mean time there were numerous instances where conquered provinces seemed destined to no better fate than had awaited the victims of Egyptian or Assyjrian conquest. The rapacity and cruelty of Caius Verres could hardly have been outdone by the worst of Persian satraps ; but there was a difference. A moral sense and political sense had been awakened which could see both the wickedness and the folly of such conduct. The voice of a Cicero sounded with trumpet tones against the oppressor, who was brought to trial and exiled for deeds which under the Oriental system, from the days of Artaxerxes to those of the Grand Turk, would scarcely have called forth a reprov- ing word. It was by slow degrees that the Roman came to understand the virtues of his own method, and learned to apply it consistently until the people of all parts of the empire were, in theory at least, equal before the law. In theory, I say, for in point of fact there was enough of viciousness in the Roman system to prevent it from achiev- ing permanent success. Historians have been fond of show- ing how the vitality of the whole system was impaired by wholesale slave-labour, by the false political economy which 12 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND taxes all for the benefit of a few, by the debauching view of civil office which regards it as private perquisite and not as public trust, and — worst of all, perhaps — by the commu- nistic practice of feeding an idle proletariat out of the im- perial treasury. The names of these deadly social evils are not unfamiliar to American ears. Even of the last we have heard ominous whispers in the shape of bills to promote mendicancy under the specious guise of fostering education or rewarding military services. And is it not a striking illustration of the slowness with which mankind learns the plainest rudiments of wisdom and of justice, that only in the full light of the nineteenth century, and at the cost of a terrible war, should the people of the United States have got rid of a system of labour devised in the crudest ages of antiquity and fraught with misery to the employed, degra- dation to the employers, and loss to everybody ? These evils, we see, in one shape or another, have existed almost everywhere ; and the vice of the Roman system did Its essen- ^^^ cousist in the fact that under it they were fully tiai defect developed, but in the fact that it had no adequate means of overcoming them. Unless helped by something supplied from outside the Roman world, civilization must have succumbed to these evils, the progress of mankind must have been stopped. What was needed was the intro- duction of a fierce spirit of personal liberty and local self- government. The essential vice of the Roman system was that it had been unable to avoid weakening the spirit of personal independence and crushing out local self-govern- ment among the peoples to whom it had been applied. It owed its wonderful success to joining Liberty with Union, but as it Went on it found itself compelled gradually to sacrifice. Liberty to Union, strengthening the hands of the central government and enlarging its functions more and more, until by and by the political life of the several parts had so far died away that, under the pressure of attack from without, the Union fell to pieces and the whole political system had to be slowly and painfully reconstructed. THE ROMAN IDEA AND THE ENGLISH IDEA 13 Now if we ask why the Roman government found itself thus obliged to sacrifice personal liberty and local independ- ence to the paramount necessity of holding the empire together, the answer will point us to the essential and fun- damental vice of the Roman method of nation-making. It lacked the principle of representation. The old Roman world knew nothing of representative assemblies, it knew Its senates were assemblies of notables, constitut- rfreprl ing in the main an aristocracy of men who had held sentation high office ; its popular assemblies were primary assemblies, — town meetings. There was no notion of such a thing as political power delegated by the people to representatives who were to wield it away from home and out of sight of their constituents. The Roman's only notion of delegated power was that of authority delegated by the government to its generals and prefects who discharged at a distance its military and civil functions. When, therefore, the Roman popular government, originally adapted to a single city, had come to extend itself over a large part of the world, it lacked the one institution by means of which government could be carried on over so vast an area without degenerating into despotism. Even could the device of repre- AndtUere- sentation have occurred to the mind of some states- [n'^despot-^ man trained in Roman methods, it would probably '^™ have made no difference. Nobody would have known how to use it. You cannot invent an institution as you would invent a plough. Such a notion as that of representative government must needs start from small beginnings and grow in men's minds until it should become part and parcel of their mental habits. For the want of it the home govern- ment at Rome became more and more unmanageable until it fell into the hands of the army, while at the same time the administration of the empire became more and more centralized ; the people of its various provinces, even while their social condition was in some respects improved, had less and less voice in the management of their local affairs, and thus the spirit of personal independence was gradually 14 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND weakened. This centralization was greatly intensified by the perpetual danger of invasion on the northern and eastern frontiers, all the way from the Rhine to the Euphrates. Do what it would, the government must become more and more a military despotism, must revert toward the Oriental type. The period extending from the third century before Christ to the third century after was a period of extraordinary in- tellectual expansion and moral awakening ; but when we observe the governmental changes introduced under the emperor Diocletian at the very end of this period, we realize ■ how serious had been the political retrogression, how grave the danger that the stream of human life might come to stagnate in Europe, as it had long since stagnated in Asia. Two mighty agents, cooperating in their opposite ways to prevent any such disaster, were already entering upon the scene. The first was the colonization of the empire by Ger- manic tribes already far advanced beyond savagery, already somewhat tinctured with Roman civilization, yet at the same time endowed with an intense spirit of personal and local independence. With this wholesome spirit they were about to refresh and revivify the empire, but at the risk of undoing its work of political organization and reducing it to barbarism. The second was the establishment of the Roman church, an institution capable of holding European society German together in spite of a political disintegration that anTthf ■'^^s widespread and long-continued. While wave diurch" after wave of Germanic colonization poured over romanized Europe, breaking down old boundary- lines and working sudden and astonishing changes on the map, setting up in every quarter baronies, dukedoms, and kingdoms fermenting with vigorous political life ; while for twenty generations this salutary but wild and dangerous work was going on, there was never a moment when the imperial sway of Rome was quite set aside and forgot- ten, there was never a time when union of some sort was not maintained through the dominion which the church had established over the European mind. When we duly THE ROMAN IDEA AND THE ENGLISH IDEA 15 consider this great fact in its relations to what went before and what came after, it is hard to find words fit to express the debt of gratitude which modern civilization owes to the Roman Catholic church. When we think of all the work, big with promise of the future, that went on in those centuries which modern writers in their ignorance used once to set apart and stigmatize as the " Dark Ages"; when we con- sider how the seeds of what is noblest in mod- ern life were then pain- fully sown upon the soil which imperial Rome had prepared ; when we , think of the various work of a Gregory, a Benedict, a Boniface, an Alfred, a Charlemagne ; we feel that there is a sense in which the most brilliant achievements of pagan antiquity are dwarfed in comparison with these. Until quite lately, indeed, the student of history has had his attention too narrowly confined to the ages that have been preeminent for literature and art — the so-called classical ages — and thus his sense of historical perspective has been impaired. When Mr. Freeman uses Gregory of Tours as a text-book, he shows that he realizes how an epoch may be none the less portentous though it has not had a Tacitus to describe it, and certainly no part of history is more full of human interest than the troubled period in which the powerful streams of Teutonic life pouring into Roman Europe were curbed in their destructiveness and guided to noble ends by the Catholic church. Out of the interaction between these two mighty agents has come the political system of the ALFRED THE GREAT i6 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND modern world. The moment when this interaction might have seemed on the point of reaching a complete and har- The monious result was the glorious thirteenth century, thirteenth ^he Culminating moment of the Holy Roman Em- century pire. Then, as in the times of Caesar or Trajan, there might have seemed to be a union among civilized men, in which the separate life of individuals and localities was not submerged. In that golden age alike of feudal system, of empire, and of church, there were to be seen the greatest monarchs, in fullest sympathy with their peoples, that Christendom has known, — an Edward I., a St. Louis, a Frederick II. Then, when in the pontificates of Innocent III. and his successors the Roman church reached its apogee, the religious yearnings of men sought expression in the sublimest architecture the world has seen. Then Aquinas summed up in his profound speculations the substance of Catholic theology, and while the morning twilight of modern science might be discerned in the treatises of Roger Bacon, while wandering minstrelsy revealed the treasures of modern speech, soon to be wrought under the hands of Dante and Chaucer into forms of exquisite beauty, the sacred fervour of the apostolic ages found itself renewed in the tender and mystic piety of St. Francis of Assisi. It was a wonderful time, but after all less memorable as the culmination of mediaeval empire and mediaeval church than as the dawning of the new era in which we live to-day, and in which the development of human society proceeds in accordance with more potent methods than those devised by the genius of pagan or Christian Rome. For the origin of these more potent methods we must look back to the early ages of the Teutonic people ; for their development and application on a grand scale we must look chiefly to the history of that most Teutonic of peoples in its institutions, though perhaps not more than half-Teutonic in blood, the English, with their descendants in the New World. The third method of nation-making may be called the Teutonic or preeminently the English method. It dif- THE ROMAN IDEA AND THE ENGLISH IDEA 17 fers from the Oriental and Roman methods which we have been considering in a feature of most profound xheEng- significance ; it contains the principle of represen- ^^^^ method tation. For this reason, though like all nation- making making it was in its early stages attended with war and conquest, it nevertheless does not necessarily require war and conquest in order to be put into operation. Of the other two methods war was an essential part. In the typical EDWARD I Oriental nation, such as Assyria or Persia, we see a conquer- ing tribe holding down a number of vanquished peoples, and treating them like slaves : here the nation is very imperfectly made, and its government is subject to sudden and violent changes. In the Roman empire we see a conquering people hold sway over a number of vanquished peoples, but instead i8 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND of treating them like slaves, it gradually makes them its equals before the law ; here the resulting political body is rhuch more nearly a nation, and its government is much more stable. A Lydian of the fifth century before Christ felt no sense of allegiance to the Persian master who simply robbed and abused him ; but the Gaul of the fifth century after Christ was proud of the name of Roman and ready to fight for the empire of which he was a citizen. We have seen, nevertheless, that for want of representation the Roman method failed when applied to an immense territory, and the government tended to become -more and more despotic, to revert toward the Oriental type. Now of the English or Teutonic method, I say, war is not an essential part ; for where representative government is once established, it is possible for a great nation to be formed by the peaceful coalescence of neighbouring states, or by their union into a „ „ ^ federal body. An instance of the former was the Pacific ten- ■' dencies of coalesccnce of England and Scotland effected early in the eighteenth century after ages of mutual hostility ; for instances of the latter we have Switzerland and the United States. Now federalism, though its rise and establishinent may be incidentally accompanied by warfare, is nevertheless in spirit pacific. Conquest in the Oriental sense is quite incompatible with it ; conquest in the Roman sense is hardly less so. At the close of our Civil War there were now and then zealous people to be found who thought that the southern states ought to be treated as conquered territory, governed by prefects sent from Washington, and held down by military force for a generation or so. Let us hope that there are few to-day who can fail to see that such a course would have been fraught with almost as much danger as the secession movement itself. At least it would have been a hasty confession, quite uncalled for and quite untrue, that American federalism had thus far proved itself incompetent, — that we had indeed preserved our national unity, but only at the frightful cost of sinking to a lower plane of national life. THE ROMAN IDEA AND THE ENGLISH IDEA 19 But federalism, with its pacific implications, was not an invention of the Teutonic mind. The idea was familiar to the city communities of ancient Greece, which, along with their intense love of self-government, felt the need of com- bined action for warding off external attack. In their Acha- ian and Aitolian leagues the Greeks made brilliant attempts toward founding a nation upon some higher principle than that of mere conquest, and the history of these attempts is exceedingly interesting and instructive. They failed for lack of the principle of representation, which was practically unknown to the world until introduced by the Teutonic colonizers of the Roman empire. Until the idea of power delegated by the people had become familiar to men's minds in its practical bearings, it was impossible to create a great nation without crushing out the political life of some of its parts. Some centre of power was sure to absorb all the political life, and grow at the expense of the outlying parts, until the result was a centralized despotism. Hence it came to be one of the commonplace assumptions of political writers that republics must be small, that free government paHacy of is practicable only in a confined area, and that the '}J« notion only strong and durable government, capable of lies must maintaining order throughout a vast territory, is some form of absolute monarchy. It was quite natural that people should formerly have held this opinion, and it is indeed not yet quite obsolete, but its fallaciousness will be- come more and more apparent as American history is better understood. Our experience has now so far widened that we can see that despotism is not the strongest but wellnigh the weakest form of government ; that centralized adminis- trations, like that of the Roman empire, have fallen to pieces, not because of too much but because of too little freedom ; and that the only perdurable government must be that which succeeds in achieving national unity on a grand scale, with- out weakening the sense of personal and local independence. For in the body politic this spirit of freedom is as the red corpuscles in the blood ; it carries the life with it. It makes 20 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND the difference between a society of self-respecting men and women and a society of puppets. Your nation may have art, poetry, and science, all the refinements of civilized life, all the comforts and safeguards that human ingenuity can devise; but if it lose this spirit of personal and local inde- pendence, it is doomed and deserves its doom. As President Cleveland has well said, it is not the business of a govern- ment to support its people, but of the people to support their government ; and once to lose sight of this vital truth is as dangerous as to trifle with some stealthy narcotic poison. Of the two opposite perils which have perpetually threatened the welfare of political society — anarchy on the one hand, loss of self-government on the other — Jefferson was right in maintaining that the latter is really the more to be dreaded because its beginnings are so terribly insidious. Many will understand what is meant by a threat of secession, where few take heed of the baneful principle involved in a Texas Seed-bill. That the American people are still fairly alive to the importance of these considerations is due to the weary ages of struggle in which our forefathers have manfully contended for the right of self-government. From the days of Armin- ius and Civilis in the wilds of lower Germany to the days of Franklin and Jefferson in Independence Hall, we have been engaged in this struggle, not without some toughening of our political fibre, not without some refining of our moral sense. Not among our English forefathers only, but among all the peoples of mediaeval and modern Europe has the struggle gone on, with various and instructive results. In all parts of romanized Europe invaded and colonized by Teutonic tribes, self-government attempted to spring up. What may have been the origin of the idea of representation we do not know ; like most origins, it seems lost in the, prehistoric darkness. Wherever we find Teutonic tribes settling down over a wide area, we find them holding their primary assemblies, usually their annual March-meetings, like those in which Mr. Hosea Biglow and others like him THE ROMAN IDEA AND THE ENGLISH IDEA 21 have figured. Everywhere, too, we find some attempt' at representative assembhes, based on the principle of the three estates, clergy, nobles, and commons. March"'" But nowhere save in England does the represent- ^^^ r"^^ ative principle become firmly established, at first sentat™ ■ Rsscmbllcs m county-meetings, afterward in a national parlia- ment limiting the powers of the national monarch as the pri- mary tribal assembly had limited the powers of the tribal chief. It is for this reason that we must call the method of nation-making by means of a representative assembly the English method. While the idea of representation was perhaps the common property of the Teutonic tribes, it was only in England that it was successfully put into prac- tice and became the dominant political idea. We may there- fore agree with Dr. Stubbs that in its political development England is the most Teutonic of all European countries, — the country which in becoming a great nation has most fully preserved the local independence so characteristic of the ancient Germans. The reasons for this are complicated, and to try to assign them all would needlessly encumber our exposition. But there is one that is apparent and extremely instructive. There is sometimes a great advantage in being able to plant political institutions in a virgin soil, where they run no risk of being modified or perhaps metamorphosed through contact with rival institutions. In America the Teutonic idea has been worked out even more completely than in Britain ; and so far as institutions are concerned, our English forefathers settled here as in an empty country. They were not obliged to modify their political ideas so as to bring them into harmony with those of the Indians ; the disparity in civilization was so great that the Indians were simply thrust aside, along with the wolves and buffaloes. This illustration will help us to understand the peculiar features of the Teutonic settlement of Britain. Whether the English invaders really slew all the romanized Kelts who dwelt in the island, except those who found refuge in the mountains of Cumberland, Wales, and Cornwall, or fled 22 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND across the channel to Brittany, we need not seek to decide. It is enough to point out one respect in which the Teutonic Peculiarity conquest was immeasurably more complete in Brit- of the Ten- ain than in any other part of the empire. Every- tonic con- ■' '■ quest of where else the tribes who settled upon Roman soil — Goths, Vandals, Suevi, and Burgundians — were christianized, and so to some extent romanized, before they came to take possession. Even the more distant Franks had been converted to Christianity before they had completed their conquest of Gaul. Everywhere except in Britain, therefore, the conquerors had already imbibed Ro- man ideas, and the authority of Rome was in a certain sense acknowledged. There was no break in the continuity of political events. In Britain, on the other hand, there was a complete break, so that while on the continent the. fifth and sixth centuries are seen in the full midday light of history^ in Britain they have lapsed into the twilight of half-legendary tradition. The Saxon and English tribes, coming from the remote wilds of northern Germany, whither Roman mission- aries had not yet penetrated, still worshipped Thor and Wodan ; and their conquest of Britain was effected with such deadly thoroughness that Christianity was destroyed there, or lingered only in sequestered nooks. A land once christianized thus actually fell back into paganism, so that the work of converting it to Christianity had to be done over again. From the landing of heathen Hengest on the isle of Thanet to the landing of Augustine and his monks on the same spot, one hundred and forty-eight years elapsed, during which English institutions found time to take deep root in British soil with scarcely more interference, as to essential points, than in American soil twelve centuries afterward. The century and a half between 449 and 597 is therefore one of the most important epochs . in the history of the people that speak the English language. Before settling in Britain our forefathers had been tribes in the upper stages of barbarisin; now 'they began the process of coalescence into a nation in which the principle of self-government should THE ROMAN IDEA AND THE ENGLISH IDEA 23 be retained and developed. The township and its town meeting we find there, as later in New England. The county meeting we also find, while the county is a little state in itself and not a mere ■ administrative district. . , . 1 . . . Survival And m this county meetmg we may observe a sm- and devei- gular feature, something never seen before in the i^utonic world, something destined to work out vaster polit- atfveas"*' ical results than Csesar ever dreamed of. This semWyin ,1 n 1 England county meetmg is not a primary assembly ; all the freemen from all the townships cannot leave their homes and their daily business to attend it. Nor is it merely an assem- bly of notables, attended by the most important men of the neighbourhood. It is a representative assembly, attended by select men from each township. We may see in it the germ of the British parliament and of the American con- gress, as indeed of all modern legislative bodies, for it is a most suggestive commentary upon what we are saying that ' in all other countries which have legislatures, they have been copied, within quite recent times, from English or American models. We can seldom if ever fix a date for the beginning of anything, and we can by no means fix a date for the begin- ning of representative assemblies in England. We can only say that where we first find traces of county organization, we find traces of representation. Clearly, if the English conquerors of Britain had left the framework of Roman institutions standing there, as it remained standing in Gaul, there would have been great danger of this principle of rep- resentation not surviving. It would most likely have been crushed in its callow infancy. The conquerors would insen- sibly have fallen into the Roman way of doing things, as they did in Gavil. From the start, then, we find the English nationality grow- ing up under very different conditions from those which obtained in other parts of Europe. So far as institutions are concerned, Teutonism was less modified in England than in the German fatherland itself. For the gradual con- quest and christianization of Germany which began with 24 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND Charles the Great, and went on until in the thirteenth cen- tury the frontier had advanced eastward to the Vis- Primitive , ., , . . . Teutonic tula, entailed to a certain extent the romanization less'moS-^ of Germany. For a thousand years after Charles fanli th^n^ the Great, the political head of Germany was also in Ger- the political head of the Holy Roman Empire, and the civil and criminal code by which the daily life of the modern German citizen is regulated is based upon the jurisprudence of Rome. Nothing, perhaps, could illus- trate more forcibly than this sheer contrast the peculiarly Teutonic character of English civilization. Between the eighth and the eleventh centuries, when the formation of English nationality was approaching completion, it received a fresh arid powerful infusion of Teutonism in the swarms of heathen Northmen or Danes who occupied the eastern coasts, struggled long for the supremacy, and gradually be- coming christianized, for a moment succeeded in seizing the crown. Of the invasion of partially romanized Northmen from Normandy which followed soon after, and which has so profoundly affected English society and English speech, we need notice here but two conspicuous features. First, it increased, the power of the crown and the clergy, brought all England more than ever under one law, and strengthened the feeling of nationality. It thus made England a formid- able military povver, while at the same time it brought her into closer relations with continental Europe than she had held since the fourth century. Secondly, by superposing a new feudal nobility as the upper stratum of society, it trans- formed the Old-English thanehood into the finest middle- class of rural gentry and yeomanry that has ever existed in any country; a point, of especial interest to Americans, since it was in this stratum of society that the two most powerful streams of English migration to America — the Virginia stream and the New England stream — alike had their source. By the thirteenth century the increasing power and pre- tensions of the crown, as the unification of English nation- THE ROMAN IDEA AND THE ENGLISH IDEA 25 ality went on, brought about a result unlike anything known on the continent of Europe ; it brought about a resistless coalition between the great nobles, the rural gentry and yeo- manry, and the burghers of the towns, for the purpose of curbing royalty, arresting the progress of centralization, and setting up representative government on a truly national scale. This grand result was partly due to peculiar circum- stances which had their origin in the Norman conquest ; but it was largely due to the political habits generated by long experience of local representative assemblies, — habits which made it comparatively easy for different classes of SEAL OF SIMON DE MONTFORT society to find their voice and use it for the attainment of ends in common. On the continent of Europe the encroach- ing sovereign had to contend with here and there an arrogant vassal, here and there a high-spirited and rebellious town^ in England, in this first great crisis of popular government, he found himself confronted by a united people. The fruits of the grand combination were first, the wresting of Magna Charta from King John in 12 15, and secondly, the meeting 26 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND of the first House of Commons in 1265. Four years of civil war were required to secure these noble results. OTs' wi" The Barons' War, of the years 1263 to 1267, was fir^t House ^" evcut of the same order of importance as the of Com- Great Rebellion of the seventeenth century and the American Revolution ; and among the founders of that political freedom which is enjoyed to-day by all Eng- lish-speaking people, the name of Simon de Montfort, Earl of Leicester, deserves a place in our grateful remembrance beside the names of Cromwell and Washington. Simon's great victory at Lewes in 1264 must rank with Naseby and York-town. The work begun by his House of Commons was the same work that has continued to go on without essential interruption down to the days of Cleveland and Gladstone. The fundamental principle of political freedom is "no taxation without representation" ; you must not take a farthing of my money without consulting my wishes as to the use that shall be made of it. Only when this principle of justice was first practically recognized, did government begin to divorce itself from the primitive bestial barbaric system of tyranny and plunder, and to ally itself with the forces that in the fulness of time are to bring peace on earth and good' will to men. Of all dates in history, therefore, there is none more fit to be commemorated than 1265 ; for in that year there was first asserted and applied at West- minster, on a national scale, that fundamental principle of " no taxation without representation," that innermost kernel of the English Idea, which the Stamp Act Congress de- fended at New York exactly five hundred years afterward. When we think of these dates, by the way, we realize the import of the saying that in the sight of the Lord a thousand years are but as a day, and we feel that the work of the Lord cannot be done by the hstless or the slothful. So much Eternal time and so much strife by sea and land has it thi'priceof taken to secure beyond peradventure the boon to liberty mankind for which Earl Simon gave up his noble life on the field of Evesham ! Nor without unremitting THE ROMAN IDEA AND THE ENGLISH IDEA 27 watchfulness can we be sure that the day of peril is yet past. From kings, indeed, we have no more to fear ; they have come to be as spooks and bogies of the nursery. But the gravest dangers are those which present themselves in new forms, against which people's minds have not yet been fortified with traditional sentiments and phrases. The inherited predatory tendency of men to seize upon the fruits of other people's labour is still very strong, and while we have nothing more to fear from kings, we may yet have trouble enough from commercial monopolies and favoured industries, marching to the polls their hordes of bribed retainers. Well indeed has it been said that eternal vigilance is the price of liberty. God never meant that in this fair but treacherous world in which He has placed us we should earn our salvation without steadfast labour. To return to Earl Simon-, we see that it was just in that wonderful thirteenth century, when the Roman idea of gov- ernment might seem to have been attaining its richest and most fruitful development, that the richer and more fruitful English idea first became incarnate in the political constitu- tion of a great and rapidly growing nation. It was not long before the struggle between the Roman Idea and the Eng- lish Idea, clothed in various forms, became the dominating issue in European history. We have between now to observe the rise of modern nationalities, as ^""l^^ new centres of political life, out of the various pro- j^^f^'^''^^ j^^ vinces of the Roman world. In the course of this to become . . , , clearly visl- development the Teutonic representative assembly bie in the is at first everywhere discernible, in some form or century other, as in the Spanish Cortes or the States-Gen- eral of France, but on the continent it generally dies out. Only in such nooks as Switzerland and the Netherlands does it survive. In the great nations it succumbs before the encroachments of the crown. The comparatively novel Teu- tonic idea of power delegated by the people to their repre- sentatives had not become deeply enough rooted in the' political soil of the continent; and accordingly we find it 28 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND more and more disused and at length almost forgotten, while the old and deeply rooted Roman idea of power delegated by the governing body to its lieutenants and prefects usurps its place. Let us observe some of the most striking features of this growth of modern nationalities. The reader of mediaeval history cannot fail to be impressed by the suddenness with which the culmination of the Holy Roman Empire, in the thirteenth century, was followed by a swift decline. The imperial position of the Hapsburgs was far less splendid than that of the Hohenstauffen ; it rapidly became more German and less European, until by and by people began to forget what the empire originally meant. The change which came over the papacy was even more remarkable. The grandchildren of the men who had witnessed the spectacle of a king of France and a king of England humbled at the feet of Innocent III., the children of the men who had found the gigantic powers of a Fred- erick II. unequal to the task of curbing the papacy, now beheld the successors of St. Peter carried away to Avignon, there to be kept for seventy years under the supervision of the kings of France. Henceforth the glory of the papacy in its political aspect was to be but the faint shadow of that with which it had shone before. This sudden change in its position showed that the mediaeval dream of a world-empire was passing away, and that new powers were com- modern na- ing Uppermost in the shape of modern nationalities with their national sovereigns. So long as these nationalities were in the weakness of their early formation, it was possible for pope and emperor to assert, and some- times to come near maintaining, universal supremacy. But the time was now at hand when kings could assert their independence of the pope, while the emperor was fast sink- ing to be merely one among kings. As modern kingdoms thus grew at the expense of empire and papacy above, so they also grew at the expense of feudal dukedoms, earldoms, and baronies below. The fourteenth and fifteenth centuries were as fatal to feudalism as to world- THE ROMAN IDEA AND THE ENGLISH IDEA 29 empire and world-church. A series of wars occurring at this time were especially remarkable for the wholesale slaughter of the feudal nobility, whether on the field or under the headsman's axe. This was a conspicuous feature of the feuds of the Trastamare in Spain, of the English invasions of France, followed by the quarrel between Burgundians and Armagnacs, and of the great war of the Roses in England. So thorough-going was the butchery in England, for exam- ple, that only twenty-nine lay peers could be found to sit in the first parliament of Henry VII. in 1485. The old nobil- ity was almost annihilated, both in person and in property ; for along with the slaughter there went wholesale confisca- tion, and this added greatly to the disposable wealth of the crown. The case was essentially similar in France and Spain. In all three countries the beginning of the sixteenth century saw the power of the crown increased and , -' •' . Increasing increasing. Its vast accessions of wealth made it power of more independent of legislative assemblies, and at the same time enabled it to make the baronage more sub- servient in character by filling up the vacant places with new creations of its own. Through the turbulent history of the next two centuries we see the royal power aiming at un- checked supremacy and in the principal instances attaining it except in England. Absolute despotism was reached first in Spain, under Philip II. ; in France it was reached a cen- tury later, under Louis XIV. ; and at about the same time in the hereditary estates of Austria ; while over all the Ital- ian and German soil of the disorganized empire, except among the glaciers of Switzerland and the dykes of the Netherlands, the play of political forces had set up a host of petty tyrannies which aped the morals and manners of the great autocrats at Paris and Madrid and Vienna. As we look back over this growth of modern monarchy, we cannot but be struck with the immense practical difficulty of creating a strong nationality without sacrificing self-gov- ernment. Powerful, indeed, is the tendency toward over^ centralization, toward stagnation, toward political death. 30 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND Powerful is the tendency to revert to the Roman, if not to Formidable the, Oriental method. As often as we reflect upon the™Roraan ^^^ general state of things at the end of the seven- idea teenth century — the dreadful ignorance and misery which prevailed among most of the people of continental Europe, and apparently without hope of remedy — so often must we be impressed anew with the stupendous signifi- cance of the part played by self-governing England in over- coming dangers which have threatened the very existence of modern civilization. It is not too much to say that in the seventeenth century the entire political future of mankind was staked upon the questions that were at issue in England. To keep the sacred flame of liberty alive required such a rare and wonderful concurrence of conditions that, had our forefathers then succumbed in the strife, it is hard to imagine Had it not how or whcre the failure could have been repaired. p^urita°ns*^ Some of these conditions we have already consid- P°^'*j<=^' ered ; let us now observe one of the most important would of all. Let us note, the part played by that most have^disap- trcmendous of social forces, the religious sentiment. From fhe ^^ ^^^ relation to the political circumstances which world -^ye have passed in review. If we ask why it was that among modern nations absolute despotism was soonest and most completely established in Spain, we find it instruc- tive to observe that the circumstances under which the Span- ish monarchy grew up, during centuries of deadly struggle with the Mussulman, were such as to enlist the religious sentiment on the side of despotic methods in church and state. It becomes interesting, then, to observe by contrast how it was that in England the dominant religious sentiment came to be enlisted on the side of pplitical freedom. In such an inquiry we hav6 nothing to do with the truth or falsity of any system of doctrines, whether Catholic or Protestant. The legitimate purposes of the historian do not require him to intrude upon the province of the theologian. Our business is to trace the sequence of political cause and effect. Nor shall we get much help from crude sweeping THE ROMAN IDEA AND THE ENGLISH IDEA 31 generalizations which set forth Catholicism as always; the enemy and Protestantism as always the ally of human lib- erty. The Catholic has a right to be offended at state- ments which would involve a Hildebrand or a St. Francis in the same historical judgment with a Sigismund or a Torquemada. The character of ecclesiastical as of all other institutions has varied with the character of the men who have worked them and the varying needs of the times and places in which they have been worked ; and our intense feeling of the gratitude we owe to English Puritanism need in nowise diminish the enthusiasm with which we praise the glorious work of the mediaeval church. It is the duty of the historian to learn how to limit and qualify his words 32 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND of blame or approval ; for so curiously is human nature compounded of strength and weakness that the best of human institutions are likely to be infected with some germs of vice or folly. Of no human institution is this more true than of the great mediasval church of Gregory and Innocent when viewed in the light of its claims to unlimited temporal and spiritual sovereignty. In striking down the headship of the emperors, it would have reduced Europe to a sort of Ori- ental caliphate, had it not been checked by the rising spirit of nationality already referred to. But there was Beginnings , , . • , • . . of Protest- another and even mightier agency coming m to the'twr-" ^^I't) its unduc pretensions to absolute sovereignty. centS That same thirteenth century which witnessed the culmination of its power witnessed also the first bold and determined manifestation of the Protestant temper of revolt against spiritual despotism. It was long before this that the earliest Protestant heresy had percolated into Europe, having its source, like so many other heresies, in that eastern world where the stimulating thought of the Greeks busied itself with the ancient theologies of Asia, From Armenia in the eighth century came the Manichsean sect of Paulicians into Thrace, and for twenty generations played a considerable part in the history of the Eastern Empire. In the Bulgarian tongue they were known as Bogomilians, or men constant in prayer. In Greek they The were called Cathari, or "Puritans." They accepted pSs°of the New Testament, but set little store by the Em^rf" ^^'^' *^y laughed at transubstantiation, denied any mystical efficiency to baptism, frowned upon image worship as no better than idolatry, despised the inter- cession of saints, and condemned the worship of the Virgin Mary. As for the symbol of the cross, they scornfully asked, " If any man slew the son of a king with a bit of wood, how could this piece of wood be dear to the king ? " Their eccle- siastical government was in the main presbyterian, and in politics they showed a decided leaning toward democracy. THE ROMAN IDEA AND THE ENGLISH IDEA 33 They wore long faces, looked askance at frivolous amuse- ments, and were te;ribly in earnest. Of the more obscure pages of mediaeval history, none are fuller of interest than those in which we decipher the westward progress of these sturdy heretics through the Balkan peninsula into Italy, and thence into southern France, where toward the end of the twelfth century we find their ideas coming to full blossom in the great Albigensian heresy. It was no light affair to assault the church in the days of Innocent III. The ter- rible crusade against the Albigenses, beginning in ^he 1207, was the joint work of the most powerful of Albigenses popes and one of the most powerful of French kings. On the part of Innocent it was the stamping out of a revolt that threatened the very existence of the CathoHc hierarchy ; on the part of Philip Augustus it was the suppression of those too independent vassals the Counts of Toulouse, and the decisive subjection of the southern provinces to the govern- ment at Paris. Nowhere in European history do we read a more frightful story than that which tells of the blazing fires which consumed thousand after thousand of the most intel- ligent and thrifty people in France. It was now that the Holy Inquisition came into existence, and after forty years of slaughter these Albigensian Cathari or Puritans seemed exterminated. The practice of burning heretics, first enacted by statute in Aragon in 1197, was adopted in most parts of Europe during the thirteenth century, but in England not until the beginning of the fifteenth. The Inquisition was never established in England. Edward II. attempted to introduce it in 131 1 for the purpose of suppressing the Templars, but his utter failure showed that the instinct of self-government was too strong in the English people to tolerate the entrusting of so much power over men's lives to agents of the papacy. Mediaeval England was ignorant and bigoted enough, but under a representative government which so strongly permeated society, it was impossible to set the machinery of repression to work with such deadly thoroughness as it worked under the guidance of Roman 34 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND methods. When we read the history of persecution in England, the story in itself is dreadful enough ; but when we compare it with the horrors enacted in other countries; we arrive at some startling results. During the two centu- ries of English persecution, from Henry IV. to James I., some 400 persons were burned at the stake, and three fourths of these cases occurred in 1555-57, the last three years of Mary Tudor. Now in a single province of Spain, in the single year 1482, about 2000 persons were burned. The lowest estimates of the number slain for heresy in the Neth- erlands in the course of the sixteenth century place it at 75,000. Very likely such figures are in many cases grossly exaggerated. But after making due allowance for this, the Effects of contrast is sufficiently impressive. In England the persecu- persecution of heretics was feeble and spasmodic, tion: its - , ,.,.,, feebleness and Only at one moment rose to anything like the inEngan appalling vigour which ordinarily characterized it in countries where the Inquisition was firmly established. Now among the victims of religious persecution must neces- sarily be found an unusual proportion of men and women more independent than the average in their thinking, and more bold than the average in uttering their thoughts. The Inquisition was a diabolical winnowing machine for removing from ^ciety the most flexible minds and the stoutest hearts ; and among every people in which it was established for a length of time it wrought serious damage to the national character. It ruined the fair promise of Spain, and inflicted incalculable detriment upon the fortunes of France. No nation could afford to deprive itself of such a valuable ele- ment in its political life as was furnished in the thirteenth century by the intelligent and sturdy Cathari of southern Gaul. The spirit of revolt against the hierarchy, though broken and repressed thus terribly by the measures of Innocent III., continued to live on obscurely in sequestered spots, in the mountains of Savoy, and Bosnia, and Bohemia, ready on occasion to spring into fresh and vigorous life. In the THE ROMAN IDEA AND THE ENGLISH IDEA 35 following century Protestant ideas were rapidly germinating in England, alike in baron's castle, in yeoman's farmstead, in citizen's shop, in the cloistered walks of the monastery. Henry Knighton, writing in the time of Richard II., declares, with the exaggeration of impatience, that every second man you met was a Lollard, or "babbler," for such was the nickname given to these free-thinkers, of whom the most ,' / 1/ JdUX W\C[.IF eminent was John Wyclif, professor at Oxford, and rector of Lutterworth, greatest scholar of the age. The career of this man is a striking commentary upon the difference between England and continental Europe in the and the Middle Ages. Wyclif denied transubstantiation, disapproved of auricular confession, opposed the payment of Peter's pence, taught that kings should not be subject to prelates, translated the Bible into English and circulated it among the people, and even denounced the reigning pope 36 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND as Antichrist ; he could do all this and live, because there was as yet no act of parliament for the burning of heretics, and in England things must be done according to the laws which the people had made.^ Pope Gregory XI. issued five bulls against him, addressed to the king, the archbishop of Canterbury, and the university of Oxford ; but their dicta- torial tone offended the national feeling, and no heed was paid to them. Seventeen years after Wyclif's death, the statute for burning heretics was passed, and the persecution of Lollards began. It was feeble and ineffectual, however. Lollardism was never trampled out in England as Catharism was trampled out in France. Tracts of Wyclif and passages from his translation of the Bible were copied by hand and secretly passed about to be read on Sundays in the manor- house, or by the cottage fireside after the day's toil was over. The work went on quietly, but not the less effectively, until when the papal authority was defied by Henry VIIL, it soon became apparent that England was half-Protestant already. It then appeared also that in this Reformation there were two forces cooperating, — the sentiment of na- tional independence which would not brook dictation from Rome, and the Puritan sentiment of revolt against the hierarchy in general. The first sentiment had found expres- sion again and again in refusals to pay tribute to Rome, in defiance -of papal bulls, and in the famous statutes of pramu- 7iire, which made it a criminal offence to acknowledge any authority in England higher than the crown. The revolt of Henry VIII. was simply the carrying out of these character acts of Edward I. and Edward III. to their logical viii™7e- conclusion. It completed the detachment of Eng- TOitagainst j^nd from the Holy Roman Empire, and made her free of all the world. Its intent was political rather than religious. Henry, who wrote against Martin Luther, was far from wishing to make England a Protestant country. Elizabeth, who differed from her father in not caring a straw for theology, was by temperament and policy conservative. 1 Milman, Lat. Christ, vii. 395. THE ROMAN IDEA AND THE ENGLISH IDEA 37 Yet England could not cease to be Papist without ceasing in some measure to be Catholic ; nor could she in that day- carry on war against Spain without becoming a leading champion of Protestantism. The changes in creed and ritual wrought by the government during this period were cautious and skilful ; and the resulting church of England, with its long line of learned and liberal divines, has played a noble part in history. But along with this moderate Protestantism espoused by 38 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND the English government, as consequent upon the assertion of English national independence, there grew up the fierce uncompromising democratic Protestantism of which the persecuted Lollards had sown the seeds. This was not the work of government. By the side of Henry VIII. stands the The sublime figure of Hugh Latimer, most dauntless HuST"' °f preachers, the one man before whose stern re- Latimer bukc the headstrong and masterful Tudor monarch quailed. It was Latimer that renewed the work of Wyclif, and in ^is life as well as in his martydom — to use his own words of good cheer uttered while the fagots were kindling around him — lighted " such a candle in England as by God's grace shall never be put out." This indomitable man belonged to that middle-class of self-governing, self-respect- ing yeomanry that has been the glory of free England and free America. He was one of the sturdy race that over- threw French chivalry at Crecy and twice drove the soldiery of a tyrant down the slope of Bunker Hill. In boyhood he worked on his father's farm and helped his mother to milk the thirty kine ; he practised archery on the village green, studied in the village school, went to Cambridge, and became the forem.ost preacher of Christendom. Now the most thorough and radical work of the English Reformation was done by this class of men of which Latimer was the type. It was work that was national in its scope, arousing to fervent heat the strong religious and moral sentiment of the people, and hence it soon quite outran the cautious and conservative policy of the government, and tended to intro- duce changes extremely distasteful to those who wished to keep England as nearly Catholic as was consistent with in- dependence of the pope. Hence before the end of Eliza- beth's reign, we find the crown set almost as strongly against Puritanism as against Romanism. Hence, too, when under Elizabeth's successors the great decisive struggle between despotism and liberty was inaugurated, we find all the tre- mendous force of this newly awakened religious enthusiasm cooperating with the English love of self-government and ^ THE ROMAN IDEA AND THE ENGLISH IDEA 39 carrying it under Cromwell to victory. From this fortunate alliance of religious and political forces has come all the noble and fruitful work of the last two centuries in which men of English speech have been labour- ment of ing for the political regeneration of mankind. But trfumjh for this alliance of forces, it is quite possible that ™os*criti- the fateful seventeenth century miarht have seen cai moment . . . -' ° in history despotism triumphant m England as on the conti- nent of Europe, and the progress of civilization indefinitely arrested. In illustration of this possibility, observe what happened in France at the very time when the victorious English ten- dencies were shaping themselves in the reign of Elizabeth. In France there was a strong Protestant movement, but it had no such independent middle-class to support it as that which existed in England ; nor had it been able to profit by such indispensable preliminary work as that which Wyclif had done; the horrible slaughter of the Albigenses had de- prived France of the very people who might have played a part in some way analogous to that of the Lollards. Consequently the Protestant movement in France wiu/^^ failed to become a national m&vement. Against the fote"of ihe wretched Henry III. who would have temporized Hugue- with it, and the gallant Henry IV. who honestly espoused it, the oppressed peasantry and townsmen made common cause by enlisting under the banner of the ultra- Catholic Guises.' The mass of the people saw nothing in Protestantism but an idea favoured by the aristocracy and which they could not comprehend. Hence the great king who would have been glad to make France a Protestant country could only obtain his crown by renouncing his reli- gion, while seeking to protect it by his memorable Edict of Nantes. But what a generous despot could grant, a bigoted despot might revoke; and before another century had elapsed, the good work done by Henry IV. was undone by Louis XIV., the Edict of Nantes was set aside, the process of casting out the most valuable political element in the 40 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND community was carried to completion, and seven per cent, of the population of France was driven away and added to the Protestant populations of northern Germany and England and America. The gain to these countries and the dam- age to France was far greater than the mere figures would imply ; for in determining the character of a community a hundred selected men and women are more potent than THE ROMAN IDEA AND THE ENGLISH IDEA 41 a thousand men and women taken at random. Thus while the Reformation in France reinforced to some extent the noble army of freemen, its triumphs were not to be the tri- umphs of Frenchmen, but of the race which has known how to enlist under its banner the forces that fight for free thought, free speech, and self-government, and all that these phrases imply. In view of these facts we may see how tremendous was the question at stake with the Puritans of the seventeenth century. Everywhere else the Roman idea seemed to have conquered or to be conquering, while they seemed to be left as the forlorn hope of the human race. But from the very day when Oliver Cromwell reached forth his mighty arm to stop the persecutions in Savoy, the victorious English idea began to change the face of things. The next century saw William'Pitt allied with Frederick of Prussia to the Eng- save the work of the Reformation in central Europe and set in motion the train of events that were at last to make the people of the Teutonic fatherland a nation. At that same moment the keenest minds in France were awak- ing to the fact that in their immediate neighbourhood, separated from them only by a few miles of salt water, was a country where people were equal in the eye of the law. It was the ideas of Locke and Milton, of Vane and Sidney, that, when transplanted into French soil, produced that vio- lent but salutary Revolution which has given fresh life to the European world. And contemporaneously with all this, the American "nation came upon the scene, equipped as no other nation had ever been, for the task of combining sov- ereignty with liberty, indestructible union of the whole with indestructible life in the parts. The English idea has thus come to be more than national, it has become imperial. It has come to rule, and it has come to stay. We are now in a position to answer the question when the Roman Empire came to an end, in so far as it can be answered at all. It did not come to its end at the hands of an Odovakar in the year 476, or of a Mahomet II. in 1453, or 42 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND of a Napoleon in 1806. It has been coming to its end as the Roman idea of nation-making has been at length decisively- overcome by the English idea. For such a fact it is impos- sible to assign a date, because it is not an event but. a stage in the endless procession of events. But we can point to ^ofCyi' (y^ClCfaTly landmarks on the way. Of movements significant and pro- phetic there have been many. The whole course of the Protestant reformation, from the thirteenth century to the nineteenth, is coincident with the transfer of the world's political centre of gravity from the Tiber and the Rhine to the Thames and the Mississippi. The whole career of the men who speak English has within this period been the most THE ROMAN IDEA AND THE ENGLISH IDEA 43 potent agency in this transfer. In these gigantic processes of evolution we cannot mark beginnings or endings by- years, hardly even by centuries. But among the .significant events which prophesied the final triumph of the English over the Roman idea, perhaps the most signifi- signifi- cant — the one which marks most incisively the purUan"'^ dawning of a new era — was the migration of Eng- Exodus lish Puritans across the Atlantic Ocean, to repeat in a new environment and on a grander scale of dimensions the work which their forefathers had wrought in Britain. The voy- age of the Mayflower was not in itself the greatest event in this migration ; but it serves to mark the era, and it is only when we study it in the mood awakened by the general considerations here set forth that we can properly estimate the historic importance of the great Puritan Exodus. CHAPTER II THE PURITAN EXODUS In the preceding chapter I endeavoured to set forth and illustrate some of the chief causes which have shifted the world's political centre of gravity from the Mediterranean and the Rhine to the Atlantic and the Mis- sissippi ; from the men who spoke Latin to the men who speak English. In the course of the expo- sition we began to catch glimpses of the wonderful signifi- cance of the fact that — among the people who had first sug- gested the true solu- t^'f^K^'^^^^^WV^' ^^°^ °^ ^^^ difficult w^ -^^^ ^ problem of making a powerful nation without sacrificing local self-government — when the supreme day of trial came, the dominant religious sentiment was ar- rayed on the side of political freedom and against political despotism. If we consider merely the territorial area which it covered, or the numbers of men slain in its battles, the war of the English parliament against Charles I. seems a trivial THE PURITAN EXODUS 45 affair when contrasted with the gigantic but comparatively insigniiicant work of barbarians like Jinghis or Tamerlane. But if we consider the moral and political issues involved, and the influence of the struggle upon the future welfare of man- kind, we soon come to see that there never was a influence conflict of more world-wide importance than that ?f Purftan- from which Oliver Cromwell came out victorious, modem It shattered the monarchical power in England at "™^^' a time when monarchical power was bearing down all oppo- sition in the other great countries of Europe. It decided that government by the people and for the people should not then perish from the earth. It placed free England in a position of such moral advan- tage that within an- other century the Eng- lish Idea of political life was able to react most powerfully upon continental Europe. It was the study of Eng- lish institutions by such men as Montesquieu and Turgot, Voltaire and Rousseau, that gave shape and direc- tion to the French Re- volution. That violent but wholesome clearing of the air, that tremen- dous political and moral awakening, which ushered in the nineteenth century in Eu- rope, had its sources in the spirit which animated the preach- ing of Latimer, the song of Milton, the solemn imagery of Bunyan, the political treatises of Locke and Sidney, the po- litical measures of Hampden and Pym. The noblest type of J^Sr^ :- 46 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND modern European statesmanship, as represented by Mazzini and Stein, is the spiritual offspring of seventeenth-century Puritanism. To speak of Naseby and Marston Moor as merely English victories would be as absurd as to restrict the significance of Gettysburg to the state of Pennsylvania. If ever there were men who laid down their lives in the cause of all mankind, it was those grim old Ironsides whose watchwords were texts from Holy Writ, whose battle-cries were hymns of praise. It was to this unwonted alliance of intense religious enthu- siasm with the instinct of self-government and the spirit of personal independence that the preservation of English free- dom was due. When James I. ascended the English throne, the forces which prepared the Puritan revolt had been slowly and quietly gathering strength among the people for at least two centuries. The work which Wyclif had begun in the fourteenth century had continued to go on in spite of occasional spasmodic attempts to destroy it with the aid of the statute passed in 1401 for the burning of heretics. The Lollards can hardly be said at any time to have constituted a sect, marked off from the established church by the posses- sion of a system of doctrines held in common. The name by which they were known was a nickname which might Work cover almost any amount of diversity in opinion, of the like the modern epithets "free-thinker" and "ag- nostic." The feature which characterized the Lol- lards in common was a bold spirit of inquiry which led them, in spite of persecution, to read Wyclif's English Bible and call in question such dogmas and rites of the church as did not seem to find warrant in the sacred text. Clad in long robes of coarse red wool, barefoot, with pilgrim's staff in hand, the Lollard preachers fared to and fro among the quaint Gothic towns and shaded hamlets, setting forth the word of God wherever they could find listeners, now in the parish church or under the vaulted roof of the cathe- dral, now in the churchyard or market-place, or on some green hillside. During the fifteenth century persecution did TITLE or FIRST EDITION Ol' KING JAMES'S BIBLE 48 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND much to check this open preaching, but passages from Wy- clif' s tracts and texts from the Bible were copied by hand and passed about among tradesmen and artisans, yeomen and plough-boys, to be pondered over and talked about and learned by heart. It was a new revelation to the English people, this discovery of the Bible. Christ and his disciples seemed to come very near when the beautiful story of the gospels was first read in the familiar speech of every-day life. Heretofore they might well have seemed remote and unreal, just as the school-boy hardly realizes that the Cato and Cassius over whom he puzzles in his Latin lessons were once living men like his father and neighbours, and not mere nominatives governing a verb, or ablatives of means or in- strument. Now it became possible for the layman to con- trast the pure teachings of Christ with the doctrines and demeanour of the priests and monks to whom the spiritual guidance of Englishmen had been entrusted. Strong and self-respecting men and women, accustomed to manage their own affairs, could not but be profoundly affected by the contrast. While they were thus led more and more to appeal to the Bible as the divine standard of right living and right think- ing, at the same time they found in the sacred volume the treasures of a most original and noble literature unrolled before them ; stirring history and romantic legend, cosmical theories and priestly injunctions, profound metaphysics and pithy proverbs, psalms of unrivalled grandeur and pastorals of exquisite loveliness, parables fraught with solemn mean- ing, the mournful wisdom of the preacher, the exultant faith of the apostle, the matchless eloquence of Job and Isaiah, the apocalyptic ecstasy of St. John. At a time when there was as yet no English literature for the common people, this untold wealth of Hebrew literature was implanted in the English mind as in a virgin soil. Great consequences have flowed from the fact that the first truly popular literature in England — the first which stirred the hearts of all classes of people, and filled their minds with ideal pictures and their THE PURITAN EXODUS 49 every-day speech with apt and telling phrases — was the literature comprised within the Bible. The supe- The riority of the common English version of the Bible, vers^o?of made in the reign of James I., over all other ver- the Bible sions, is a fact generally admitted by competent critics. The sonorous Latin of the Vulgate is very grand, but in sublimity of fervour as in the unconscious simplicity of strength it is surpassed by the English version, which is scarcely if at all inferior to the original, while it remains to-day, and will long remain, the noblest monument of English speech. The rea- son for this is obvious. The common English version of the Bible was made by men who were not aiming at literary ef- fect, but simply gave natural expression to the feelings which for several generations had clustered around the sacred text. They spoke with the voice of a people, which is more than the voice of the most highly gifted man. They spoke with the voice of a people to whom the Bible had come to mean all that it meant to the men who wrote it. To the English- men who listened to Latimer, to the Scotchmen who listened to Knox, the Bible more than filled the place which in mod- ern times is filled by poem and essay, by novel and newspaper and scientific treatise. To its pages they went for daily in- struction and comfort, with its strange Semitic names they baptized their children, upon its precepts, too often misun- derstood and misapplied, they sought to build up a rule of life that might raise them above the crude and unsatisfying world into which they were born. It would be wrong to accredit all this awakening of spirit- ual life in England to Wyclif and the Lollards, for it was only after the Bible, in the translations of Tyndall and Coverdale, had been made free to the whole English people in the reign of Edward VI. that its significance began to be apparent ; and it was only a century later, in the time of Cromwell and Milton, that its full fruition was reached. It was with the Lollards, however, that the spiritual awakening began and was continued until its effects, when they came, were marked by surprising maturity and suddenness. Because the Lol- d^^ (^CtXtM^ . THE PURITAN EXODUS 51 followed under Mary did much to strengthen the extreme Protestant sentiment by allying it with the outraged feeling of national independence. The bloody work of ^f^^^^^^f the grand-daughter of Ferdinand and Isabella, the the perse- doting wife of Philip II., was rightly felt to be under Spanish work; and never, perhaps, did England ^^^ feel such a sense of relief as on the auspicious day which welcomed to the throne the great Elizabeth, an English- woman in every fibre, and whose mother withal was the daughter of a plain country gentleman. But the Marian persecution not only increased the strength of the extreme Protestant sentiment, but indirectly it supplied it with that Calvinistic theology which was to make it indomitable. Of the hundreds of ministers and laymen who fled from England in 1555 and the two following years, a great part found their way to Geneva, and thus came under the immediate personal influence of that man of iron who taught the very doctrines for which their souls were craving, and who was then at the zenith of his power. Among all the great benefactors of mankind the figure of Calvin is perhaps the least attractive. He was, so to speak, the constitutional lawyer of the Reformation, with' vision as clear, with head as cool, with soul as dry, as any old solicitor in rusty black that ever dwelt in chambers in Lincoln's Inn. His sternness was that of the judge who dooms a criminal to the gallows. His theology had much in it that is in strik- ing harmony with modern scientific philosophy, and much in it, too, that the descendants of his Puritan converts have learned to loathe as sheer diabolism. It is hard for us to forgive the man who burned Michael Servetus, even though it was the custom of the time to do such things and the • tender-hearted Melanchthon found nothing to blame in it. It is not easy to speak of Calvin with enthusiasm, as it comes natural to speak of the genial, whole-souled, many- sided, mirth-and-song-loving Luther. Nevertheless it would be hard to overrate the debt which mankind owe to Calvin. The spiritual father of Coligny, of William the Silent, and 52 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND of Cromwell must occupy a foremost rank among the cham- pions of modern democracy. Perhaps not one of the medi- eval popes was more despotic in temper than Calvin ; but Calvin's it is not the less true that the promulgation of his Us^poHtol theology was one of the longest steps that mankind bearings have taken toward personal freedom. Calvinism left the individual man alone in the presence of his God. His salvation could not be wrought by' priestly ritual, but only by the grace of God abounding in his soul ; and wretched creature that he felt himself to be, through the intense moral awakening of which this stern theology was in part the expression, his soul was nevertheless of infinite value, and the possession of it was the subject of an ever- lasting struggle between the powers of heaven and the powers of hell. In presence of the awful responsibility of life, all distinctions of rank and fortune vanished ; prince and pauper were alike the helpless creatures of Jehovah and suppliants for his grace. Calvin did not originate these doc- trines ; in announcing them he was but setting forth, as he said, the Institutes- of the Christian religion; but in empha- sizing this aspect of Christianity, in engraving it upon ihen's minds with that keen-edged logic which he used with such unrivalled skill, Calvin made them feel, as it had perhaps never been felt before, the dignity and importance of the individual human soul. It was a religion fit to inspire men who were to be called upon to fight for freedom, whether in the marshes of the Netherlands or on the moors of Scotland. In a church, moreover, based upon such a theology there, was no room for prelacy. Each single church tended to become an independent congregation of worshippers,, con- stituting one of the most effective schools that has ever existed for training men in local self-government. When, therefore, upon the news of Elizabeth's accession to the throne, the Protestant refugees made their way back to England, they came as Calvinistic Puritans. Their stay upon the Continent had been short, but it had been just enough to put the finishing touch upon the work that had 54 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND been going on since the days of Wyclif. Upon such men and their theories EHzabeth could not look with favour. With all her father's despotic temper, Elizabeth possessed her mother's fine tact, and she represented so grandly the feeling of the nation in its life-and-death-struggle with Spain and the pope, that never perhaps in English- history has the crown wielded so much real power as during the five-and- forty years of her wonderful reign. One dky Elizabeth asked a lady of the court how she contrived to retain her husband's affection. The lady replied that " she had confi- dence in her husband's understanding and courage, well founded on her own steadfastness not to offend or thwart, but to cherish and obey, whereby she did persuade her hus- band of her own affection, and in so doing did command his." " Go to, go to, mistress," cried the queen. " You are wisely bent, I find. After such sort do I keep the good will of all my husbands, my good people ; for if they did not rest assured of some special love towards them, they would not readily yield me such good obedience." ^ Such a theory of government might work well in the hands ^,. , , , of an Elizabeth, and in the circumstances in which Elizabeth's policy, and England was then placed ; but it could hardly be its £r[£c1is worked by a successor. The seeds of revolt were already sown. The disposition to curb the sovereign was growing and would surely assert itself as soon as it should have some person less loved and respected than Elizabeth to deal with. The queen in some measure foresaw this, and in the dogged independence and uncompromising enthusiasm of the Puritans she recognized the rock on which monarchy might dash itself into pieces. She therefore hated the Puri- tans, and persecuted them zealously with one hand, while circumstances forced her in spite of herself to aid and abet them with the other. She could not maintain herself against Spain without helping the Dutch and the Huguenots ; but every soldier she sent across the channel came back, if he came at all, with his head full of the doctrines of Calvin ; ' Gardiner, The Puritan Revolution^ p. 12. THE PURITAN EXODUS 5S and these stalwart converts were reinforced by the refugees frpm France and the Netherlands who came flocking into English towns to set up their thrifty shops and hold prayer- meetings in their humble chapels. To guard the kingdom S6 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND against the intrigues of Philip and the Guises and the Queen , of Scots, it was necessary to choose the most zealous Pro- testants for the most responsible positions, and such men were more than likely to be Calvinists and Puritans. Eliza- beth's great ministers, Burghley, Walsingham, and Nicholas Bacon, were inclined toward Puritanism ; and so were the naval heroes who won the most fruitful victories of that cen- tury, by shattering the maritime power of Spain and thus opening the way for Englishmen to colonize North America. If we would reahze the dangers that would have beset the Mayflower and her successors but for the preparatory work of these immortal sailors, we must remember the dreadful fate of Ribault and his Huguenot followers in Florida, twenty-three years before that most happy and glorious event, the destruction of the Spanish Armada. But not even the devoted men and women who held their prayer- meetings in the Mayflower's cabin were more constant in Puritan prayer or more assiduous in reading the Bible than sea-rovers ^j^g dauntless rovers, Drake and Hawkins, Gilbert ' and Cavendish. In the church itself, too, the Puritan spirit grew until in 1575-83 it seized upon Grindal, archbishop of Canterbury, who incurred the queen's disfavour by refusing to meddle with the troublesome reformers or to suppress their prophesyings. By the end of the century the majority of country gentlemen and of wealthy merchants in the towns had become Puritans, and the new views had made great headway in both universities, while at Cambridge they had become dominant. This allusion to the universities may serve to introduce the very interesting topic of the geographical distribution of Puritanism in England. No one can study the history of the two universities without being impressed with the greater conservatism of Oxford, and the greater hospitality of Cam- bridge toward new ideas. Possibly the explanation may have some connection with the situation of Cambridge upon the East Anglian border. The eastern counties of England have often been remarked as rife in heresy and independ- THE PURITAN EXODUS 57 ency. For many generations the coast region between the Thames and the H umber was a veritable litus hcBreticum} Longland, bishop of Lincoln in 1520, reported Lollardism as especially vigorous and obstinate in -his diocese, where more than two hundred heretics were once brought before him in the course of a single visitation. It was in Lincolnshire, Norfolk, Suffolk, and Essex, and among the fens of Ely, Cambridge, and Huntingdon, that Puritanism was strongest at the end of the sixteenth century. It was as pujjtanjsnj member and leading spirit of the Eastern Counties wasstrong- . . . . est in the Association that Oliver Cromwell began his military eastern career ; and in so far as there was anything sec- "^"^ '^^ tional in the struggle between Charles I. and the Long Par- liament, it was a struggle which ended in the victory of east over west. East Anglia was from first to last the one region in which the supremacy of Parliament was unquestionable and impregnable, even after the strength of its population had been diminished by sending some thousands of picked men and women to America. While every one of the forty counties of England was represented in the great Puritan exodus, the East Anglian counties contributed to it far more than all the rest. Perhaps it would not be far out of the way to say that two thirds of the American people who can trace their ancestry to New England might follow it back to the East Anglian shires of the mother-country ; one sixth might follow it to those southwestern counties — Devon- shire, Dorset, and Somerset — which so long were foremost in maritime enterprise ; one sixth to other parts of T, , , T t T . ■ 1 i Preponder- England. I would not insist upon the exactness anceof of such figures, in a matter where only a rough g^^ in the approximation is possible ; but I do not think they f^J^^^ overstate the East Anglian preponderance. It was not by accident that the earliest counties of Massachusetts 1 In my forthcoming book, " The Dutch and Quaker Colonies in America," I hope to prove that this was due to the close and long- continued intercourse between the eastern counties and the Nether- lands. S8 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND were called Norfolk, Suffolk, and Essex, or that Boston in Lincolnshire gave its name to the chief city of New England. The native of Connecticut or Massachusetts who wanders about rural England to-day finds no part of it so homelike as the cosy villages and smiling fields and quaint market towns as he fares leisurely and in not too straight a line from Ipswich toward Hull. Countless little unobtrusive features remind him of home. The very names on the sign-boards over the sleepy shops have an unwontedly familiar look. In many instances the homestead which his forefathers left, when they followed Winthrop or Hooker to America, is still to be found, well-kept and comfortable ; the ancient manor-house built of massive unhewn stone, yet in other respects much like the New England farmhouse, with its long sloping roof and gable end toward the road, its staircase with twisted balusters running across the shallow entry-way, its low ceil- ings with their sturdy oaken beams, its spacious chimneys, and its narrow casements from which one might have looked out upon the anxious march of Edward IV. from Ravenspur to the field of victory at Barnet in days when America was unknown. Hard by, in the little parish church which has stood for perhaps a thousand years, plain enough and bleak enough to suit the taste of the sternest Puritan, one may read upon the cold pavement one's own name and the names of one's friends and neighbours in startling proximity, some- what worn and effaced by the countless feet that have trod- den there. And yonder on the village green one comes with bated breath upon the simple inscription which tells of some humble hero who on that spot in the evil reign of Mary suf- fered death by fire. Pursuing thus our interesting journey, we may come at last to the quiet villages of Austerfield and Scrooby, hard by the banks of the little rivers Ryton and Idle, just at the corner of the three shires of Lincoln, York, and Nottingham. It was from this neighbourhood that the Puritan exodus to America was begun. It was not, however, in the main stream of Puritanism, but in one of its obscure rivulets that this world-famous move- THE PURITAN EXODUS S9 ment originated. During the reign of Elizabeth it was not the purpose of the Puritans to separate themselves from the established church of which the sovereign was the head, but to remain within it and reform it according to their own notions. For a time they were partially successful in this SCROOBY AND AUSTERFIELD work, especially in simplifying the ritual and in giving a Calvinistic tinge to the doctrines. In doing this they showed no conscious tendency toward freedom of thought, but rather a bigotry quite as intense as that which animated the system against which they were fighting. The most ad- purit^nism vanced liberalism of Elizabeth's time was not to be was not in- found among the Puritans, but in the magnificent aiUedwith treatise on " Ecclesiastical Polity " by the church- ^''^'^'^'^ man Richard Hooker. But the liberalism of this great writer, like that of Erasmus a century earlier, was not mili- tant enough to meet the sterner demands of the time. It could not then ally itself TArith the democratic spirit, as Puri- 6o THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND tanism did. It has been well said that while Luther was the prophet of the Reformation that has been, Erasmus was the prophet of the Reformation that is to come, and so it was to some extent with the Puritans and Hooker. The Puritan fight against the hierarchy was a political necessity of the time, something without which no real and thorough refor- mation could then be effected. In her antipathy to this democratic movement, Elizabeth vexed and tormented the Puritans as far as she deemed it prudent ; and in the con- servative temper of the people she found enough support to prevent their transforming the church as they would have liked to do. Among the Puritans themselves, indeed, there was no definite agreement on this point. Some would have stopped short with Presbyterianism, while others held that "new presbyter was but old priest writ large," and so pressed on to Independency. It was early in Eliza- beth's reign that the zeal of these extreme brethren, inflamed by persecution, gave rise to the sect of Sepa- ratists, who flatly de- nied the royal supremacy over ecclesiastical affairs, and asserted the right to set up churches of their own, with pastors and elders and rules of discipline, independent of queen or bishop. In 1567 the first congregation of this sort, consisting of about a hundred persons assembled in a hall in Anchor Lane in London, was forcibly broken up and thirty-one of the number were sent to jail and kept there for nearly a year. RICHARD HOOKER THE PURITAN EXODUS 6i By 1576 the Separatists had come to be recognized as a sect, under the lead of Robert Browne, a man of high Robert social position, related to the great Lord Burgh- f^dtht ley. Browne fled to Holland, where he preached Separatists to a congregation of English exiles, and wrote books which were smuggled into England and privately circulated there, much to the disgust, not only of the queen, but of all parties, Puritans as well as High Church- CRo^tSlf^ ^to^-n.^ men. The great majority of Puri- tans, whose aim was not to leave the church, but to stay in it and control it, looked with dread and disapproval upon these extremists who seemed likely to endanger their success by forcing them into deadly opposition to the crown. Just as in the years which ushered in our late Civil War, the opponents of the Republicans sought to throw discredit upon them by confusing them with the little sect of Abolitionists ; and just as the Repub- licans, in resenting the imputation, went so far as to frown upon the Abolitionists, so that in December, i860, men who had just voted for Mr. Lincoln were ready to join in break- ing up "John Brown meetings" in Boston ; so it was with religious parties in the reign of Elizabeth. The opponents of the Puritans pointed to the Separatists, and cried, "See whither your anarchical doctrines are leading! " and in their eagerness to clear themselves of this insinuation, the leading Puritans were as severe upon the Separatists as anybody. It is worthy of note that in both instances the imputation, so warmly resented, was true. Under the pressure of actual hostilities the Republicans did become Abolitionists, and in like manner, when in England it came to downright warfare the Puritans became Separatists. But meanwhile it fared ill with the little sect which everybody hated and despised. Their meetings were broken up by mobs. In an old pam- phlet describing a "tumult in Fleet Street, raised by the disorderly preachment, pratings, and prattlings of a swarm of Separatists," one reads such sentences as the following : " At length they catcht one of them alone, but they kickt 62 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND him so vehemently as if they meant to beat him into a jelly. It is ambiguous whether they have kil'd him or no, but for a certainty they did knock him about as if they meant to pull him to pieces. I confesse it had been no matter if they had beaten the whole tribe in the like manner." For their leaders the penalty was more serious. The denial of the queen's ecclesiastical supremacy could be treated as high treason, and two of Browne's friends, convicted of circulating THE PURITAN EXODUS 63 his books, were sent to the gallows. In spite of these dan- gers Browne returned to England in 1585. William the Silent had lately been murdered, and heresy in Holland was not yet safe from the long arm of the Spaniard. Browne trusted in Lord Burghley's ability to protect him, but in 1588, finding himself in imminent danger, he suddenly recanted and accepted a comfortable living under the bish- ops who had just condemned him. His followers were already known as Brownists ; henceforth their enemies took pains to call them so and twit them with holding doctrines too weak for making martyrs. The flimsiness of Browne's moral texture prevented him from becoming the leader in the Puritan exodus to New England. That honour was reserved for William wiUiam Brewster, son of a country gentleman who had for ^''^"^'^'^ many years been postmaster at Scrooby. The office was then one of high responsibility and influence. After taking his degree at Cambridge, Brewster became private secre- tary to Sir William Davison, whom he accompanied on his mission to the Netherlands. When Davison's public career came to an end in 1587, Brew- ster returned to Scrooby, and "t^^ soon afterward succeeded his father as postmaster, in which position he remained until 1607. During the interval Eliza- beth died, and James Stuart came from Scotland to take her place on the throne. The feelings with which the late queen had regarded Puritanism were mild compared with the sentiments entertained by her successor. For some years he had been getting worsted in his struggle with the Presbyterians of the northern kingdom. His vindictive mem- ory treasured up the day when a mighty Puritan preacher had in public twitched him by the sleeve and called him "God's silly vassal." "I tell you, sir," said Andrew Mel- ville on that occasion, " there are two kings and two king- doms in Scotland. There is Christ Jesus the King, and his kingdom the Kirk, whose subject James VI. is, and of whose Mn iiM 64 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND ?^ AUSTERFIELD CHURCH J kingdom not a king, nor a lord, nor a head, but a member. And they whom Christ hath called to watch over his kirk and govern his spiritual kingdom have sufficient power and authority so to do both together and severally." In this bold and masterful speech we have the whole political phi- losophy of Puritanism, as in a nutshell. Under the guise of theocratic fanaticism, and in words as arrogant as ever fell James from pricstly lips, there was couched the assertion Andrew"'^ of the popular will against despotic privilege. Mel- Meiviiie yiUg could Say such things to the king's face and walk away unharmed, because there stood behind him a people fully aroused to the conviction that there is an eternal law of God, which kings no less than scullions must obey.^ Melville knew this full well, and so did James know it in the bitterness of his heart. He would have no such mischievous ^ Green, History of the English People, iii. 47. THE PURITAN EXODUS 65 work in England. He despised Elizabeth's grand national policy which his narrow intellect could not comprehend. He could see that in fighting Spain and aiding Dutchmen and Huguenots she was strengthening the very spirit that sought to pull monarchy down. In spite of her faults, which were neither few nor small, the patriotism of that fearless woman was superior to any personal ambition. It was quite otherwise with James. He was by no means fearless, and he cared more for James Stuart than for either England or Scotland. He had an overweening opinion of his skill in kingcraft. In coming to Westminster it was his policy to use his newly acquired power to break down the Puritan party in both kingdoms and to fasten episcopacy upon Scotland. In pursuing this policy he took no heed of English national sentiment, but was quite ready to defy and insult it, even to the point of making — before children who remembered the Armada had yet reached middle age — an alliance with the hated Spaniard. In such wise James suc- ceeded in arraying against the monarchical principle the strongest forces of English life, — the sentiment of nation- ality, the sentiment of personal freedom, and the uncom- promising religious fervour of Calvinism ; and out of this invincible combination of forces has been wrought the nobler and happier state of society in which we live to-day. • Scarcely ten months had James been king of England when he invited the leading Puritan clergymen to meet him- self and the bishops in a conference at Hampton Court, as he wished to learn what changes they would like to make in the government and ritual of the church. In the course of the discussion he lost his temper and stormed, as was his wont. The mention of the word " presbytery " lashed him into fury. "A Scottish presbytery," he cried, "agreeth as well with a monarchy as God and the Devil. Then ^,. -' King Jack and Tom and Will and Dick shall meet, and James's at their pleasures censure me and my council, and political all our proceedings. . . . Stay, I pray you, for one =''"*''™ seven years, before you demand that from n^e, and if then 66 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND you find me pursy and fat, and my windpipes stuffed, I will perhaps hearken to you. . . . Until you find that I grow lazy, let that alone." One of the bishops declared that in this significant tirade his Majesty spoke by special inspira- tion from Heaven ! The Puritans saw that their only hope lay in resistance. If any doubt remained, it was dispelled C^. /Uz^^i^ THE PURITAN EXODUS 67 by the vicious threat with which the king broke up the conference. "I will make them conform," said he, "or I will harry them out of the land:" These words made a profound sensation in England, as well they might, for they heralded the struggle which within half a century was to deliver up James's son to the execu- tioner. The Parliament of 1604 met in angrier mood than any Parliament which had assembled at Westminster since the dethronement of Richard II. Among the churches non-conformity began more decidedly to assume the form THE MANOR HOUSE AT ' SCROOBY, WILLIAM BREWSTER'S RESIDENCE of secession. The keynote of the conflict was struck at Scrooby. Staunch Puritan as he was, Brewster had not hitherto favoured the extreme measures of the Separatists. Now he withdrew from the church, and gathered together a company of men and women who met on Sundays for divine service in his own drawing-room at Scrooby ji,g ^^^_ Manor. In organizing this independent Congrega- gregation tionalist society, Brewster was powerfully aided by ratists at John Robinson, a native of Lincolnshire. Robin- son was then thirty years of age, and had taken his mas- ter's degree at Cambridge in 1600. He was a man of great learning and rare sweetness of temper, and was moreover distinguished for a broad and tolerant habit of mind too sel- dom found among the Puritans of that day. Friendly and unfriendly writers alike bear witness to his spirit of Christian 68 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND charity.and the comparatively slight value which he attached to orthodoxy in points of doctrine ; and we can hardly be wrong in supposing that the comparatively tolerant behav- iour of the Plymouth colonists, whereby they were contrasted with the settlers of Massachusetts, was in some measure due to the abiding influence of the teachings of this admirable man. (o^^yi^.^_ Another important member of the Scrooby congregation was William Bradford, of the neighbouring village of Austerfield, then a lad of seventeen years, but already remarkable for maturity of intelligence and weight of character. Afterward governor of Plymouth for nearly thirty years, he became the histo- rian of his colony ; and to his picturesque chronicle, written in pure and vigorous English, we are indebted for most that we know of the migration that started from Scrooby and ended in Plymouth. It was in 1606 — two years after King James's truculent threat — that this independent church of Scrooby was or- ganized. Another year had not elapsed before its members had suffered so much at the hands of officers of the law, that they began to think of following the example of former heretics and escaping to Holland. After an unsuccessful attempt in the autumn of 1607, they at length succeeded a few months later in accomplishing their flight to Amster- dam, where they hoped to find a home. But here they found the English exiles who had preceded them so fiercely involved in doctrinal controversies, that they decided to go further in search of peace and quiet. This decision, which we may ascribe to Robinson's wise counsels, served to keep the society of Pilgrims from getting divided and scattered. They reached Leyden in 1609, just as the Spanish govern- ment had sullenly abandoned the hopeless task of conquer- ing the Dutch, and had granted to Holland the Twelve The flight Years Truce. During eleven of these twelve years ■ to Holland the Pilgrims remained in Leyden, supporting them- selves by various occupations, while their numbers increased It ^^"^ I ^ J i tt) ^ ^ "- ^ >^"1>|>'$^ !^ ^ »^ g It" 5! K ~ ^>j?^ ^)« ^ •'a'-m^ Hi ^ V ^ <^ "^ ^ s 4 THE PURITAN EXODUS 69 to three hundred or more. There was also, during the same years, a congregation of Englishmen at Amsterdam. Brewster opened a publishing house, devoted mainly to the issue of theological books. Robinson accepted a professor- ship in the university, and engaged in the defence of Cal- vinism against the attacks of Episcopius, the successor of PLAN OK LEYDEN Arminius. The youthful Bradford devoted himself to the study of languages, — Dutch, French, Latin, Greek, and finally Hebrew ; wishing, as he said, to " see with his own eyes the ancient oracles of God in all their native beauty." During their sojourn in Leyden, the Pilgrims were intro- duced to a strange and novel spectacle, — the systematic legal toleration of all persons, whether Catholic or Protes- tant, who called themselves followers of Christ. All persons who came to Holland, and led decorous lives there, were protected in their opinions and customs. By contempo- rary writers in other countries this eccentric behaviour of the Dutch government was treated with unspeakable scorn. "All strange religions flock thither," says one ; it is "a com- 70 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND mon harbour of all heresies," a "cage of unclean birds," says another; "the great mingle mangle of religion," says a third.^ In spite of the relief from persecution, however, the Pilgrims were not fully satisfied with their new home. The expiration of the truce with Spain might prove that this relief was only temporary ; and at any rate, complete toleration did not fill the measure of their wants. Had they come to Holland as scattered bands of refugees, they might have been absorbed into the Dutch population, as Huguenot refugees have been absorbed in Germany, England, and Why the America. But they had come as an organized didToT^ community, and absorption into a foreign nation stay there -^yas something to be dreaded. They wished to preserve their English speech and English traditions, keep up their organization, and find some favoured spot where they might lay the corner-stone of a great Christian state. The spirit of nationality was strong in them ; the spirit of self-government was strong in them ; and the only thing which could satisfy these feelings was such a migration as had not been seen since ancient times, a migration like that of Phokaians to Massilia or Tyrians to Carthage. It was too late in the world's history to carry out such a scheme upon European soil. Every acre of territory there was appropriated. The only favourable outlook was upon the Atlantic coast of America, where English cruisers had now successfully disputed the pretensions of Spain, and where after forty years of disappointment and disaster a flourishing colony had at length been founded in Virginia. The colonization of the North American coast had now become part of the avowed policy of the British govern- ment. In 1606 a great joint-stock company was formed for the establishment of two colonies in America. The branch which was to take charge of the proposed southern colony had its headquarters in London ; the management of the northern branch was at Plymouth in Devonshire. Hence the two branches are commonly spoken of as the London 1 Steele's Life of Brewster, p. 161. E llr t:" JS ^ ftS|| ■ 'Captaine B<«»t/«Io»»»> Gofmld , Cap- *]!^' ■ |,n Uine Bartholowmw GMen, and diuers gi'ii *s ortiergentlemen their aflbcia^^bytbe g3 i5-yji is. Bricfe aria mje Relation of the DiftoDKieof the North ^0$pleai'ant,&uitruU ' .. aadtommodieus i . fpile: . permi^on of >Iie honotirabic knight^ Sit WaXtek Raleghj&c. e^e of the voyage. Whereunto is annexedaTrcatife, ssiij bfM. £(scffitci4Umi»tiit- tuwly aidei in thiifetoi:d wi- I. ON DIN I, mi >i^ m>. EARLIEST ENGLISH BOOK RELATING T.O NEW ENGLAND SECOND ENGLISH BOOK RELATING TO NEW ENGLAND THE PURITAN EXODUS 73 and Plymouth companies. The former was also called the Virginia Company, and the latter the North Vir- xhe Lon- ginia Company, as the name of Virginia was then p°yn^o^th loosely applied to the entire Atlantic coast north of companies Florida. The London Company had jurisdiction from 34° to 38° north latitude ; the Plymouth Company had jurisdiction from 45° down to 41" ; the intervening territory, between 38° and 41°, was practically to go to whichever company should first plant a self-supporting colony. The local government of each colony was to be entrusted to a council resident in America and nominated by the king ; while general super- vision over both colonies was to be exercised by a council resident in England. In pursuance of this general plan, though with some variations in detail, the settlement of Jamestown had been begun, in 1607, and its success was now beginning to seem assured. Qn the other hand, all the attempts which had been made to the north of the fortieth parallel had- failed miserably. As early as 1602 Bartholomew Gosnold, with 32 men, had landed on the headland which they named Cape Cod from the fish found thereabouts in great numbers. This was the first English name given to any spot in that part of Anaerica, and so far as known these were the first Englishmen that ever set foot there. They went on and gave names to Martha's Vineyard and the Eliza- pji-stex- beth Islands in Buzzard's Bay ; and on Cuttvhunk pjoration ■' ■' of the New they built some huts with the intention of remain- England ing, but after a month's experience they changed their mind and went back to England. Gosnold's story interested other captains, a!nd on Easter Sunday, 1605-, George Weymouth set sail for North Virginia, as it was called. He found Cape Cod and coasted northward as far as the Kennebec river, up which he sailed for many miles. Weymouth kidnapped five Indians and carried them to Eng- land, that they might learn the language and acquire a whole- some respect for the arts of civilization and the resistless power of white men. His glowing accounts of the spacious 74 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND harbours, the abundance of fish and game, the noble trees, the hixuriant herbage, and the balmy climate, aroused gen- eral interest in England, and doubtless had some influence upon the formation, in the following year, of the great joint- stock company just described. The leading spirit of the Plymouth Company was Sir John Popham, chief-justice of England, and he was not disposed to let his friends of the southern branch excel him in promptness. Within three months after the founding of Jamestown, a party of 120 colonists, led by the judge's kinsman, George Popham, landed at the mouth of the Kenn'ebec, and proceeded to build a rude village of some fifty cabins, with storehouse, chapel, and blockhouse. When they landed in August they doubt- less shared Weymouth's opinion of the climate. These Englishmen had heard of warm countries like Italy and cold countries like Russia ; harsh experience soon taught them that there are climates in which the summer of Naples may alternate with the winter of Moscow. The president and many others fell sick and died. News came of the death of Sir John Popham in England, and presently the weary and disappointed settlers abandoned their enterprise and returned to their old homes. Their failure spread abroad in England the opinion' that North Virginia was uninhabitable by reason of the cold, and no further attempts were made upon that coast until in 16 14 it was visited by Captain John Smith. The romantic career of this gallant and garrulous hero did not end with his departure from the infant ■ colony at Jamestown. By a curious destiny his fame is associated John with the beginnings of both the southern and the ^™* northern portions of the United States. To Vir- ginia Smith may be said to have given its very existence as a commonwealth ; to New England he gave its name. In 1614 he came over with two ships to North Virginia, ex- plored its coast minutely from the Penobscot river to Cape Cod, and thinking it a country of such extent and impor- tance as to deserve a name of its own, rechristened it New England. On returning home he made a very good map of THE PURITAN EXODUS 75 the coast and dotted it with EngHsh names suggested by Prince Charles. Of these names Cape Elizabeth, Cape Ann, Charles River, and Plymouth still remain where Smith placed them. In 1615 Smith again set sail for the New World, this time with a view to planting a colony under the 76 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND auspices of the Plymouth Company, but his talent for strange adventures had not deserted him. He was taken prisoner by a French fleet, carried hither and thither on a long cruise, and finally set ashore at Rochelle, whence, without a penny in his pocket, he contrived to make his way back to Eng- land. Perhaps Smith's life of hardship may have made him prematurely old. After all his wild and varied experi- ence he was now only in his thirty-seventh year, but we do not find him going on any more voyages. The remaining sixteen years of his life were spent quietly in England in writing books, publishing maps, and otherwise stimulating the public interest in the colonization of the New World. But as for the rocky coast of New England, which he had explored and named, he declared that he was not so simple as to suppose that any other motive than riches would " ever erect there a commonwealth or draw company from their ease and humours at home, to stay in New England." In this opinion, however, the bold explorer was mistaken. Of all migrations of peoples the settlement of New England is preeminently the one in which the almighty dollar played the smallest part, however important it may since have be- come as a motive power. It was left for religious enthusi- asm to achieve what commercial enterprise had failed to accomplish. By the summer of 1617 the Pilgrim society at Leyden had decided to send a detachment of its most vigorous members to lay the foundations of a Puritan state in America. There had been much discussion as to the fit- test site for such a colony. Many were in'favour of Guiana, which Sir Walter Raleigh had described in such glowing colours ; but it was thought that the tropical climate would be ill-suited to northern men of industrious and thrifty habit, and the situation, moreover, was dangerously exposed to the Spaniards. Half a century had scarcely elapsed since the wholesale massacre of Huguenots in Florida. New England, on the other hand, was considered too cold. Popham's ex- perience was not encouraging. Virginia was then talked of, but while the subject was under discussion an attempt was THE PURITAN EXODUS n made to send a company of Pilgrims thither from Amster- dam, and it ended in disaster. In 1618 a certain Mr. Black- well, elder of the church at Amsterdam, made arrangements with the London Company for settling such a colony in Vir- ginia. The details of the affair are obscure. It appears that Blackwell and some friends were arrested in London, but the / Gimii^- 78 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND astute elder contrived so to represent things — perhaps with some violence to truth — as to obtain Archbishop Abbot's blessing on his enterprise. But the blessing, as Bradford pithily suggests, proved ineffectual. A company of i8o emigrants were "packed together like herrings" in a small ship, whereat "the marchants upbraided Mr. Blackwell" for these inadequate arrangements, and he retorted upon them ; " yea, y= streets at Gravesend runge of their extreame quarrelings, crying out one of another, thou hast brought me to this." When Captain Argall returned from Virginia, in May, 1619, he reported the arrival of the little weather- beaten ship in Chesapeake Bay, with less than fifty surviv- ors ; the rest, including Blackwell himself, had died on the voyage. " Heavy news it is, and I would be glad to heare how farr it will discourage." ^ Our narrator goes on to inform us that this calamity, in- stead of causing discouragement, only begat a firm resolve to " amend that wherein we had failed." The famous election of April, 16 19, in which the party of Sir Thomas Smith in the London Company was decisively overthrown by the party of Sir Edwin Sandys,^ was emi- nently favourable to the negotiations of the Pilgrims for a home in Virginia. It was not their wish to add one more to the little group of plantations on James river. Such an arrangement would be likely to leave them with less auton- The Pii- °™y than they desired. But the country about the grimsat Delaware river afforded an opportunity for erect- decideto ing an independent colony under the jurisdiction of settlement the Loudon Company, and this seemed the best Delaware course to pursue. Sir Edwin Sandys, now the river leading spirit in the London Company, was favour- ably inclined toward Puritans, and through him negotiations were begun. Capital to the amount of ;^7000 was furnished by seventy merchant adventurers in England, and the earn- ings of the settlers were to be thrown into a common stock 1 Bradford MS. p. 24. ° See my Old Virginia and Her Neighbours, i. 84, 200. A DESCRIPTION of ^J\(ew England: OR THE OBSERVATIONS, AND difcoucries, of Captain IohnSmtfb(hdmiT3i]l ©f that Counrry) in the North o^ Ainerica^ in the year ^yur Lord 1 6 1 4 : with ihefuccejfe of Jixe Shi^s^ that went the nextyeare 1 6 1 5 v Mi the accidents bt fell him among the frtnch men efivarrei With the proofc of the prcfent benefit this CountfcyafFoordt! whither this prcfent ycare, H6l6, eight volnntarj Shift begone to raakf further trjiilL At LONDON Printed by Humfrey Lownes, for Rfben CUrket, and are to be (ould at his houfe called the Lodge, in Chancer/ lane, oucr againftLla- colneslnne. I<5it .S^n^;/ that when they caught sight of land on the 9th of November, it was to Cape Cod that they had come. Thesir patent gave them no authority to settle here, as it was beyond the juris- diction of the London Company. They turned their prow southward, but encountering perilous shoals and a stiff headwind they desisted and sought shelter in Cape Cod bay. On the nth they decided to find some place of abode in 82 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND this neighbourhood, anticipating, no difficulty in getting a patent from the Plymouth Company, which was anxious to obtain settlers. For five weeks they stayed in the ship while little parties were exploring the coast and deciding Foundin upon the best site for a town. It was perhaps a of mere coincidence that the spot which they chose had already received from John Smith the name of Plymouth, the beautiful port in Devonshire from which the Mayflower had sailed.^ There was not much to remind them of home in the snow-covered coast on which they landed. They had hoped to get their rude houses built before the winter should set in, but the many delays and mishaps had served to bring them ashore in the coldest season. When the long winter came to an end, fifty-one of the hundred Pilgrims had died, — a mortality even greater than that before which the Pop- ham colony had succumbed. But Brewster spoke truth when he said, " It is not with us as with men whom small things can discourage or small discontentments cause to wish themselves at home again." At one time the living were scarcely able to bury the dead ; only Brewster, Stan- dish, and five other hardy ones were well enough to get about. At first all were crowded under a single roof, and as glimpses were caught of dusky savages skulking among the trees, a platform was built on the nearest hill and a few cannon were placed there in such wise as to command the neighbouring valleys and plains. By the end of the first summer the platform had grown to a fortress, down from which to the harbour led a village street with seven houses finished and others going up. Twenty-six acres had been cleared, and a plentiful harvest gathered in ; venison, wild ^ Nathaniel Morton says that the name Plymouth was adopted as that of the last town the Pilgrims had left in their native country (JS/ew England's Memorial, p. 56). Some of the emigrants may have had a copy of Smith's map, but it was a curious coincidence that he should have written just in this place, where the Pilgrims were to come, the name of the English port from which they were to sail. JOHN SMITH'S MAP OF NEW ENGLAND THE PURITAN EXODUS 83 fowl, and fish were easy to obtain. When provisions and fuel had been laid in for the ensuing winter, Governor Brad- ford appointed a day of Thanksgiving. Town meetings had already been held, and a few laws passed. The history of New England had begun. This had evidently been a busy summer for the forty-nine survivors. On the 9th of November, the anniversary of the SHIP OF SEVENTEENTH CENTURY day on which they had sighted land, a ship was descried in the offing. She was the Fortune, bringing some fifty more of the Leyden company. It was a welcome reinforcement, but it diminished the rations of food that could be served during the winter, for the Fortune was not well supplied. When she set sail for England, she carried a little cargo of beaver-skins and choice wood for wainscoting to the value of ;£^500 sterling, as a first instalment of the sum due to the merchant adventurers. But this cargo never' reached Eng- land, for the Fortune was overhauled by a French cruiser and robbed of everything worth carrying away. For two years more it was an anxious and difficult time 84 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND MAP OF PLYMOUTH HARBOUR for the new colony. By 1624 its success may be said to have become assured. That the Indians in the neighbourhood had not taken advantage of the distress of the settlers in that first winter, and massacred every one of them, was due to a remarkable circumstance. Early in 161 7 a frightful pestilence had swept over New England and slain, it is AUTOGRAPHS OF THE MAYFLOWER PILGRIMS 86 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND thought, more than half the Indian population between the Penobscot river and Narragansett bay. Many of the Indi- ans were inclined to attribute this calamity to the murder of two or three white fishermen the year before. They had not got over the superstitious dread with which the first sight of white men had inspired them, and now they believed that the strangers held the demon of the plague at their disposal and had let him loose upon the red men in revenge Why the ^°^ ^^^ murdcrs they had committed. This whole- colony some delusion kept their tomahawks quiet for a was not ^ , T , attacked by while. When they saw the Englishmen establish- ing themselves at Plymouth, they at first held a powwow in the forest, at which the new-comers were cursed with all the elaborate ingenuity that the sorcery of the medi- cine-men could summon for so momentous an occasion ; but it was deemed best to refrain from merely human methods of attack. It was not until the end of the first winter that any of them mustered courage to visit the palefaces. Then an Indian named Samoset, who had learned a little English from fishermen and for his own part was inclined to be friendly, came one day into the village with words of wel- come. He was so kindly treated that presently Massasoit, principal sachem of the Wampanoags, who dwelt between Narragansett and Cape Cod bays, came with a score of painted and feathered warriors and squatting on a green rug and cushions in the governor's log-house smoked the pipe of peace, while Standish with half-a-dozen musketeers stood quietly by. An offensive and defensive alliance was then and there made between King Massasoit and King James, and the treaty was faithfully kept for half a century. Some time afterward, when Massasoit had fallen sick and lay at death's door, his life was saved by Edward Winslow, , who came to his wigwam and skilfully nursed him. Hence- forth the Wampanoag thought well of the Pilgrim. The powerful Narragansetts, who dwelt on the farther side of the bay, felt differently, and thought it worth while to try the effect of a threat. A little while after the Fortune THE PURITAN EXODUS 87 «-o5™X^r«iJii? TITLE OF THOMAS MORTON'S BOOK f' EVVENGLANDS PLANTATION. OR. A SHORT AND TRVE DESCRIPTION OF THE COMMODITIES AND PISCOMMODITIES of that Countfcy. --.^ •■ — r- Written by a rcuerend Diuine now there rcfidem. ^,, LONDON, Printed by T.C %n^ %C for Michael Sparhf dwellitig at the Signe of the Sksv BihU in Creef$e Jrhr in the little OfdBaikp 1630, TITLE OF FRANCIS HlGGINSON's HOOK THE PLANTING OF NEW ENGLAND 95 the shores of Massachusetts bay. One of the merchant adventurers, Thomas Weston, took it into his head in 1622 to separate from his partners and send out a colony of sev- enty men on his own account. These men made a settle- ment at Wessagusset, some twenty-five miles north of Plymouth. They were a disorderly, thriftless, rabble, picked up from the London streets, and soon got into trouble with the Indians ; after a year CT^OTntlS CyfiOff^^ they were glad to get back to England as best they could, and in this the Plymouth settlers willingly aided them. In June of that same year 1622 there arrived on the spene a picturesque but ill understood personage, Thomas Morton, " of Clifford's Inn, Gent.," as he tells on the title- page of his quaint and delightful book, the " New English Canaan." Bradford disparagingly says that he "had been a kind of petie-fogger of Furnifell's Inn " ; but the wessagus- churchman Samuel Maverick declares that he was Meny- a "gentleman of good qualitie." He was an agent ™°""' of Sir Ferdinando Gorges, and came with some thirty fol- lowers to make the beginnings of a royalist and Episcopal settlement in the Massachusetts bay. He was naturally regarded with ill favour by the Pilgrims as well as by the later Puritan settlers, and their accounts of him will proba- bly bear taking with a grain or two of salt. In 1625. there came one Captain Wollaston, with a gang of indented white servants, and established himself on the site of the present town of Quincy. Finding this system of industry ill suited to northern agriculture, he carried most of his men off to Virginia, where he sold them. Mor- ton took possession of the site of the settlement, which he called Merrymount. There, according to Bradford, he set up a " schoole of athisme," and his men did quaff strong waters and comport themselves " as if they had anew revived and celebrated the feasts of y^ Roman Goddes Flora, or the beastly practices of y^ madd Bachanalians." Charges of atheism have been freely hurled about in all ages. In Mor- 96 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND ton's case the accusation seems to have been based upon the fact that he used the Book of Common Prayer. His men so far maintained the ancient customs of merry Eng- land as to plant a Maypole eighty feet high, about which they frolicked with the redskins, while furthermore they taught them the use of firearms and sold them muskets and rum. This was positively dangerous, and in the summer of 1628 the settlers at Merrymount were dispersed by Miles Standish. Morton was sent to England, but returned the next year, and presently again repaired to Merrymount. By this time other settlements were dotted about the coast. There were a few scattered cottages or cabins at Nantasket and at the mouth of the Piscataqua, while Sam- uel Maverick had fortified himself on Noddle's Island, and William Blackstone already lived upon the Shawmut penin- sula, since called Boston. These two gentlemen were no friends to the Puritans ; they were churchmen and repre- sentatives of Sir Ferdinando Gorges. The case was very different with another of these earliest settlements, which deserves especial mention as coming directly in the line of causation which led to the founding of Massachusetts by Puritans. For some years past Dorchester the Dorchcstcr adveuturcrs — a small company of merchants in the shire town of Dorset' — had been sending vessels to catch' fish off the New England coast. In 1623 these men conceived the idea of planting a small village as a fishing station, and setting up a church and preacher therein, for the spiritual solace of the fishermen and sailors. In pursuance of this scheme a small party occupied Cape Ann, where after two years they got into trouble ^^f}^ayn $'fa^6rv- with the men of Plymouth. Sev- eral grants and assignments had made it doubtful where the ownership lay, and although this place was not near their own town, the men of Plymouth claimed it. The dis- pute was amicably arranged by Roger Conant, an independ- ent settler who had withdrawn from Plymouth because he THE PLANTING OF NEW ENGLAND 97 did not fully sympathize with the Separatist views of the people there. The next step was for the Dorchester adven- turers to appoint Conant as their manager, and the next was for them to abandon their enterprise, dissolve their partnership, and leave the remnant of the little colony to shift for itself. The settlers retained their tools and cattle, )1^ s/itiuL&^u. and Conant found for them a new and safer situation at Naumkeag, on the site of the present Salem. So far little seemed to have been accomplished ; one more seemed added to the list of failures. But the- excellent John White,, the Puritan rector of Trin- ity Church in Dorchester, had meditated carefully about these things. He saw that many attempts at colonization 98 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND had failed because they made use of unfit instruments, "a multitude of rude ungovernable persons, the very scum of the land." So Virginia had failed in its first years, and only succeeded when settled by worthy and industrious peo- ple under a strong government. The example of Plymouth, as contrasted with Wessagusset, taught a similar lesson. We desire, said White, " to raise a bulwark against the king- dom of Antichrist." Learn wisdom, my countrymen, from the ruin which has befallen the Protestants at Rochelle and John in the Palatinate ; learn " to avoid the plague hi^noUe'^ while it is foreseen, and not to tarry as they did schemfe tjn jt overtook them." The Puritan party in Eng- land was- numerous and powerful, but .the day of strife was not far off and none might foretell its issue. Clearly it was well to establish a strong and secure retreat in the New World, in case of disaster in the Old. What had been done at Plymouth "by a few men of humble means might be done on a much greater scale by an association of leading Puri- tans, including men of wealth and wide social influence. Such arguments were urged in timely pamphlets, of one of which White is supposed to have been the author. The matter was discussed in London, and inquiry was made whether fit men could be found " to engage their, persons in the voyage." "It fell out that among others they lighted at last on Master Endicott, a man well known to' divers per- sons of good note, who manifested much willingness to accept of the offer as soon as it was tendered." All jvere thereby much encouraged, the schemes of White took defi- nite shape, and on the 19th of March, 1628, a tract of land was obtained from the Council for New England, consisting of all the territory included between three miles north of the Merrimack and three miles south of the Charles in one direction, and the Atlantic and Pacific oceans in the other. This liberal grant was made at a time when people still supposed the Pacific coast to be not far west' of Henry Hudson's river. The territory was grarited to an associa- tion of six gentlemen, only one of whom — John Endicott 9 ; -.-,r. ' O.V? ^ K-'j I ■llij -^icf^zdirKj MILES STANDISH'S LETTER TO GOVERNOR BRADFORD lournall of the beginning m^^rocccdni^^ oftheEngliili Plantation fctlcd at 'P/iwKjf^ in N E W :' .' E N (3 r, A N D, by cercaine Eng!i(h Aduemurers both Merchants and others. VVich their difficuk pafTagc.thcir Mc ariuall, their ioyfull building of, and comfortable plancing then> felucs in the i:ow well dtiencicj Xovvnc of Ne w Plim ot H, AS ALSO A P.ELATION OF FOVRE fcucrall difcoucrics (ince made by fome of the. ■fcmeEiig!iniPl;.ntcn there rcfidcnr. , /. Ir, ,'. •.iv.rvr^ to P V C V. A N o KICK the hAhttAtion of the Indi.tHS ^ed- trfl Kir.'T MalVafoyt : i:uilf^thfi-/mcjfitgc, the .infivcr and cute riiti;mte>;f ti::j h^dof hin). [I. !it,i-j]\,'icm.idchy tcr.oftbcfffio t',):: Ki'{i/>''}''.': "''N ;V.'i1.', rofceke !tlic-1 j'jiit h.idUftmmfc/Jc i/ithewcods ■ wiJf.l.tn ■.-..;■,-■:;.•;>';.. ■.■r,e'ii.lhetnj in;l)Jt-;jiiy.i^.'. I J I , futhctriatirncy to the Ktnf^'hmc rf N.imafclKt, md.-fence ef their r;\'ri:-i} KtuirKhihCoy., aga:f:[lthc Nanohigjjciiicrs, itndtircHtnf^ethf 'jripp.iCin'iAlhofthctr /iitirpreterTifquuvwr,. II 1 i. 'their voydge :> the AlarfaclmfctS;, a-u: !):,r oitcrtai^tmeKt there. Wichan :^nr\vcrtb al! fiichobicifHonsasnre any wa*y made sgiiiiiltlKlavvruliicilcof liiigiifh plania'.\oi,s jncholc p.irts, ^^^^ 4^\ -«' 5 r, f) N D O N, P.rinted for h'm Bt:lLm.'c\ am! ;irc to be f^ldac his (liop at the two MOUKT S RELATION ; 'jy/e e,u-lic i f'liMlslu'd boi^k r'!lating to P/ynwJifh Colotiy THE PLANTING OF NEW ENGLAND loi — figures conspicuously in the history of New England. The grant was made in the usual reckless style, conflicting and conflicted" with various patents which had been feedfof°" issued before. In 1622 Gorges and John Mason trouble had obtained a grant of all the land between the rivers Kennebec and Merrimack, and the new grant encroached somewhat upon this. The difficulty seems to have been temporarily adjusted by some sort of compromise which restricted the new grant to the Merrimack, for in 1629 we find Mason's title confirmed to the region between that river' and the Piscataqua, while later on Gorges appears as proprietor of the territory between the Piscataqua and the Kennebec. A more serious difficulty was the claim of Robert Gorges, son of Sir Ferdinando. That young man had in 1623 obtained a grant of some 300 square miles in Massachusetts, and had gone to look after it, but had soon returned discouraged to England and shortly afterward died. But his claim devolved upon his surviving brother, John Gorges, and Sir Ferdinando, in consenting to the grant to Endicott and his friends, expressly reserved the rights of his sons. No such reservation, however, was mentioned in the Massachusetts charter, and the colonists never paid the slightest heed to it. In these conflicting claims were sown seeds of trouble which bore fruit for more than half a cen- tury. In such cases actual possession is apt to make nine points in the law, and accordingly Endicott was sent over, as soon as possible, with sixty persons, to reinforce the jp,,„ party at Naumkeag and supersede Conant as its Endicott leader. On Endicott's arrival in September, 1628, founding the settlers were' at first inclined to dispute his authority, but they were soon conciliated, and in token of this amicable adjustment the place was called by the He- brew name of Salem, or "peace." Meanwhile Mr. White and the partners in England were pushing things vigorously. Their scheme took a wider scope. They were determined to establish something more 102 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND than a trading company. From Charles I. it was some- time easy to get promises because he felt himself under no obligation to keep them. In March, 1629, a royal charter was granted, creating a corporation, under the legal style of the Governor and Company of Massachusetts Bay in The Com- New England. The affairs of this corporate body M^s^sachu- were to be managed by a governor, deputy-gov- setts Bay ernor, and a council of eighteen assistants, to be elected annually by the company. They were empowered to make such laws as they liked for their settlers, provided they did not contravene the laws of England, — a proviso susceptible of much latitude of interpretation. The place where the company was to hold its meetings was not men- tioned in the charter. The law-ofi&cers of the crown at first tried to insert a condition that the government must reside in England, but the grantees with skilful argument suc- ceeded in preventing this. Nothing was said in the charter, about religious liberty, for a twofold reason : the crown would not have granted it, and it was not what the grantees wanted ; such a provision 'would have been liable to hamper them seriously in carrying out their scheme. They pre- ferred to keep in their own hands the question as to how much or how little religious liberty they should claim or allow. Six small ships were presently fitted out, and upon them were embarked 300 men, 80 women, and 26 children, with 140 head of cattle, 40 goats, and abundance of arms, ammunition, and tools. The principal leader of this com- pany was Francis Higginson, of St. John's College, Cam- bridge, rector of a church in Leicestershire, who had been deprived of his living for non-conformity. With him were associated two other ministers, also graduates of Cambridge. All three were members of the council. By the arrival of this company at Salem, Endicott now became governor of a colony larger than any yet started in New England, — larger than Plymouth after its growth of nearly nine years. The time was at length ripe for that great Puritan exodus of which the voyage of the Mayflower had been the pre- THE PLANTING OF NEW ENGLAND 103 monitory symptom. The grand crisis for the Puritans had come, the moment when decisive action could no longer be deferred. It was not by accident that the rapid develop- ment of John White's enterprise into- the Company of Mas- 104 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND sachusetts Bay coincided exactly with the first four years of the reign of Charles I. They were years well fitted to bring such a scheme to quick maturity. The character of Charles was such as to exacerbate the evils of his father's reign. James could leave some things alone "in the com- fortable hope that all would by and by come out right, but Charles was not satisfied without meddling everywhere. Both father and son cherished some good intentions ; both were sincere believers in their narrow theory of kingcraft. For wrongheaded obstinacy, utter want of tact, and bottom- less perfidy, there was little to choose between them. The humorous epitaph of the. grandson "whose word no man relies on " might have served for them all. But of this un- happy family Charles I. was eminently the dreamer. He lived in a world of his own, and was slow in rendering thought into action ; and this made him relyupon the quick-witted but unwise and unscrupulous Buckingham,^ who was silly enough to make feeble attempts at unpopular warfare without consulting Parliament. During each of Charles's first four years there was an angry session of Par- liament, in which, through the unwillingness of the popular leaders to, resort to violence, the king's policy seemed able to hold its ground. Despite all protest the king persisted in levying strange taxes and was to some extent able to collect them. Men who refused to pay enforced loans were thrown into jail and the writ of habeas corpus was denied them. Meanwhile the treatment of Puritans became more and more vexatious. It was clear enough that Charles meant to become an absolute monarch, like Louis XIII., but Parliament began by throwing' all the blame upon the unpopular minister and seeking to impeach him. On the 5th of June, 1628, the House of Commons pre- sented the most extraordinary spectacle, perhaps in all its history. The famous Petition of Right had been passed by both Flouses, and the royal answer had just been received. Its tone was that of gracious assent, but it omitted the ^ Gardiner, Puritan Revolution, p. 50. Ti b D- N E VV E S FROM N E VV E N G L A N D.- ^ A' true Relation of things very re- markable at the Plantation of ^'Plimoth in N E VV - E N C L A N D. shewing the wondrous providence and good- nes of G o D,in their prcltrvation and continuance, bd»g delivered frem many a^pamnt deaths and datigerj. Together with a Relation of fuch religious and civill Lawes and Cuftomes, as arc- in praftilc ara'ongQ the Indians^ ndjoyning to them at this day. As alio ' yshut Cowmodiues arc there tu be rayfed for the , maintenance of that and other P/artta- ttens in the fatd Country. Written by E. W. who hath borne a part in the lojc-iiamed troubles, and there liucd fiiice their hfrt Arnvall, L O N D O N Printed by /. D. (or IVillta'v BLaUn and fehnBellimie,znii are uj oe fold at tlitir Shops, at the 'Bible in ^,i«A Church- yj; Jj and at th^ ihrcr Goldtn Lyons in Coin-hiU, nscie the ^jMl hxih.ifgi. 16x4. >. TITLE OV EDWARD WINSLOWS BOOK io6 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND necessary legal formalities, and the Commons well knew Remark- what this meant. They were to be tricked with able scene sweet words, and the petition was not to acquire in the . . ^ House of the force of a statute. How was it possible to deal oramons ^.^j^ ^^^j^ ^ slippery creature.? There was but one way of saving the dignity of the throne without sacrifi- cing the liberty of the people, and that was to hold the king's ministers responsible to Parliament, in anticipation of modern methods. It was accordingly proposed to impeach the Duke of Buckingham before the House of Lords. The Speaker now " brought an imperious message from the king, . . . warning them . . . that he would not tolerate any aspersion upon his ministers." Nothing daunted by this, Sir John Eliot arose to lead the debate, when the Speaker called him to order in view of the king's message. " Amid a deadly stillness " Eliot sat down and burst into tears. For a moment the House was overcome with despair. Deprived of all constitutional methods of redress, they suddenly saw yawning before them the direful alternative — slavery or civil war. Since the day of Bosworth a hundred and fifty years had passed without fighting worthy of mention on English soil, such an era of peace as h^d hardly ever before been seen on the earth ; now half the nation was to be pitted against the other half, families were to be divided against themselves, as in the dreadful days of the Roses, and with what consequences no one could foresee. " Let us sit in silence," quoth Sir Dudley Digges, "we are miserable, we know not what to do ! " Nay, cried Sir Nathaniel Rich, "we must now speak, or forever hold our peace." Then did grim Mr. Prynne and Sir Edward Coke mingle their words with sobs, while there were few dry eyes in the House. Presently they found their voices, and used them in a way that wrung from the startled king his formal assent to the Petition of Right. There is something strangely pathetic and historically significant ^ in the emotion of these stern, fearless men. ^ It is now more than two hundred years since a battle has been FACSIMILE OF MASS TTS CHARTER OF 1629 THE PLANTING OF NEW ENGLAND 107 The scene was no less striking on the 2d of the following March, when, " amid the cries and entreaties of the Speaker held down in his chair by force,'" while the Usher of the Black Rod was knocking loudly at the bolted door, and the tramp of the king's soldiers was heard in the courtyard, Eliot's clear voice rang out the defiance that whoever advised the levy of tonnage and poundage without a grant from Par- liament, or whoever voluntarily paid those duties, was to be counted an enemy to the kingdom and a betrayer of its liberties. As shouts of "Aye, aye," resounded on every side, " the doors were flung open, and the members poured forth in a throng." The noble Eliot went to, end his days in the Tower, and for eleven years no Parliament sat again in England.^ It was in one and the sarrle week that Charles I. thus began his experiment of governing without a Parliament, and that he granted a charter to the Company of Massa- chusetts Bay. He was very far, as we shall see. Desperate from -realizing the import of what he was doing, nature of o i^ & the crisis To the Puritan leaders it was evident that a great struggle was at hand. Affairs at home might well seem de- sperate, and the news from abroad was not encouraging. It was only four months since the surrender of Rochelle had ended the existence of the Huguenots as an armed political party. They had now sunk into the melancholy condition of a tolerated sect which may at any moment cease to be tolerated. In Germany the terrible Thirty Years War had fought in England. The last was Sedgmoor in 1685. For four cen- turies, since Bosworth, in 1485, the English people have lived in peace in their own homes, except for the brief episode of the Great Rebel- lion, and Monmouth's slight affair. This long peace, unparalleled in history, has powerfully influenced the English and American character for good. Since the Middle Ages most English warfare has been war- fare at a distance, and that does not nourish the brutal passions in the way that warfare at home does. An instructive result is to be seen in the mildness of temper which characterized the conduct of our stupen- dous Civil War. Nothing like it was ever seen before. 1 Picton's Cromwell, pp. 61, 67 ; Gardiner, Puritan Revolution, p. 72. lo8 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND just reached the darkest moment for the Protestants. Fif- teen months were yet to pass before the immortal Gustavus was to cross the Baltic and give to the sorely harassed cause of liberty a fresh lease of life. The news of the cruel Edict of Restitution in this same fateful month of March, 1629, could not but give the English Puritans great concern. Everywhere in Europe the champions of human freedom seemed worsted. They might well think that never had the prospect looked so dismal ; and never before, as never since, did the venture of a wholesale migration to the New World so strongly recommend itself as the only feasible escape from a situation that was fast becoming intolerable. Such were the anxious thoughts of the leading Puritans in the spring of 1629, and in face of so grave a problem different minds came naturally to different conclusions. Some were for staying in England to fight it out to the bitter end ; some were for crossing the ocean to create a new England in the wilderness. Either task was arduous enough, and not to be achieved without steadfast and sober heroism. On the 26th of August twelve gentlemen, among the most eminent in the Puritan party, held a meeting at Cam- bridge, and resolved to lead a migration to New England, provided the charter of the Masachusetts Bay Company and Transfer of ^^^ government established under it could be trans- the char- ferred to that country. On examination it appeared wi'nthrop that no legal obstacle stood in the way. Accord- Thomas ingly such of the old officers as did not wish to °" ^^ take part in the emigration resigned their places, which were forthwith filled by these new leaders. For gov- ernor the choice fell upon John Winthrop, a wealthy gentle- man from Groton in Suffolk, who was henceforth to occupy the foremost place among the_ founders of New England. Winthrop was at this time forty-one years of age, having been boTn in the memorable year of the Armada. He was a man of remarkable strength and beauty of character, grave and modest, intelligent and scholarlike, intensely religious and endowed with a moral sensitiveness that was almost A rrival of the Winthrop Colony in Boston Harbor THE PLANTING OF NEW ENGLAND 109 morbid, yet liberal withal in his opinions and charitable in disposition. When his life shall have been adequately writ- ten, as it never has been, he will be recognized as one. of the very noblest figures in American history. From early youth he had that same power of winning confidence and com- manding respect for which Washington was so remarkable ; and when he was selected as the Moses of the great Puri- tan exodus, there was a wide-spread feeling that extraordi- nary results were likely to come of such an enterprise. In marked contrast to Winthrop stands the figure of the man associated with him as deputy-governor. Thomas Dud- ley came of an ancient family, the history of which, alike in the old and in the new England, has not been altogether creditable. He represented the elder branch of that Nor- man family, to the younger branch of which belonged the unfortunate husband of Lady Jane ^ Grey and the unscrupulous hus- f^ ^N z» band of Amy Robsart. There ^/f^ '■ ,^^*^2^. was, however, very little likeness ^/ ^r to Ehzabeth's gay lover in grim Thomas Dudley. His Puritanism was bleak and stern, and for Christian charity he was not eminent. He had a foible for making verses, and at his death there was found in his pocket a poem of his, containing a quatrain wherein the intolerance of that age is neatly summed up : — " Let men of God in courts and churches watch O'er such as do a Toleration hatch, Lest that ill egg bring forth a cockatrice To poison all in heresy and vice." Such was the spirit of most of the Puritans of that day, but in the manifestation of it there were great differences, and here was the strong contrast between Dudley and Winthrop. In the former we have the typical narrow-minded, strait- laced Calvinist for whom it is so much easier to entertain respect than affection. i3ut Winthrop's character, as we look, at the well-known portrait ascribed to Van Dyck, is revealed in a face expressive of what was finest in the age of no THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND Elizabeth, the face of a spiritual brother of Raleigh and ' Sidney. The accession of two men so important as Winthrop and Dudley served to bring matters speedily to a crisis. Their embarkation in April, 1630, was the signal for a general movement on the part of the English Puritans. Before Christmas of that year seventeen ships had come to New England, bringing more than 1000 passengers. This large wave of immigration quite overwhelmed and bore Founding ° '■ of Massa- away the few links of possession by which Gorges had thus far kept his hold, upon the country. In January, 1629, John Gorges had tried to assert the validity of his late brother's claim by executing conveyances cover- ing portions of it. One of these was to John Oldham, a man who had been harshly treated at Plymouth, and might be supposed very ready to defend his rights against settlers of the Puritan company. Gorges^ further maintained that he retained possession of the country through the presence of his brother's tenants, Blackstone, Maverick, Walford, and others on the shores of the bay. In June, 1629, Endicott had. responded by sending forward some fifty persons from Salem to begin the settlement of Charlestown. Shortly before Winthrop's departure from England, Gorges had sent that singular personage. Sir Christopher Gardiner, to look after -his interests in the New World, and there he was presently found established near the mouth of the Neponset river, in company with " a comly yonge woman whom he caled his cousin." But these few claimants were now at once lost in the human tide which poured over Charlestown, Boston, Roxbury, Dorchester, Watertown, and "the New Town," as Cambridge was first called. The settlement at Merrymount was again dispersed, and Morton sent back to London ; Gardiner fled to the coast of Maine and thence sailed for England in 1632. The Puritans had indeed occu- pied the country in force. , Here on the very threshold we are confronted by facts which show, that not a mere colonial plantation, but a defi- THE PLANTING OF NEW ENGLAND nite and organized state, was in process of formation. This emigration sufificed to make the beginnings of half a dozen towns, and the question as to self-government immediately sprang up. Early in 1632 a tax of ;^6o was assessed upon '>■"'■ ^. STA'lUE OF JOHN WINTHKOP, aCOLLAY SQUARE, BOSTON the settlements, in order to pay for building frontier fortifi- cations at NcAVtown. This incident was in itself of small dimensions, as incidents in newly founded states are apt to be. But in its historic import it may serve to connect the England of John Hampden with the New England of Samuel Adams. The inhabitants of Watertown at first 113 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND declined to pay this tax, which was assessed by the Board of Assistants, on the ground that English freemen cannot rightfully be taxed save by their own consent. This protest led to a change in the constitution of the infant colony, and here, at once, we are introduced to the beginnings tion^^tT of American constitutional history. At first it ment rai'sed ^^^ thought that public busincss could be trans- at wkter- actcd by a primary assembly of all the freemen in the colony an^eeting four times in the year ; but the number of freemen increased so fast that this was almost at once (in October, 1630) found to be impracticable. The right of choosing the governor and making the laws was then left to the Board of Assistants; and in May, 163 1, it was further decided that the assistants, need not be chosen afresh every year, but might keep their seats during good behaviour or until ousted by special vote of the freemen. If the settlers of Massachusetts had been ancient Greeks or Romans, this would have been about as far as they could go in the matter ; the choice would have been between a primary assembly and an assembly of notables. It is curi- ous to see Englishmen passing from one of these alternatives to the other. But it was only for a moment. The protest of the Watertown men came in time to check these proceed- ings, which began to have a decidedly oligarchical look. To settle the immediate question of the tax, two deputies were sent from each settlement to advise with the Board of Assist- ants ; while the power of choosing each year the governor and assistants was resumed by the freemen. Two years later, in order to reserve to the freemen the power of ' mak- ing laws without interfering too much with the ordinary business of life, the colonists fell back upon the old English rural plan of electing deputies or representatives to a gen- eral court. At first the deputies sat in the same chamber with the assistants, but at length, in 1644, they were formed into a second chamber with increased powers, and the way in which this important constitutional change came about is "4 a) J I- a* > * rvt i >- ftii ^j! ^H ,^ 5 ^ '^ tJ 'V=f 5?<::4.,. ■4 '^ .J « ^ •** J. -^ --' ^ ^ ^ ;-x u ■ ■-, '^. *■ P p' ,^^ ^4^ •0 -t- |N f^ » ft fi" ^^^ P r* » C^ |g|g liii 114 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND worth remembering, as an illustration of the smallness of the state which so soon was to play a great part in history. As Winthrop puts it, "there fell out a great business upon a very small occasion." To a certain Captain Keayne, the stray of Boston, a rich man deemed to be hard and over- ^'^ bearing toward the poor, there was brought a stray pig, whereof he gave due public notice through the town crier, yet none came to claim it till after he had killed a, pig of his own which he kept in the same stye with the stray. A year having passed by, a poor woman named Sherman came to see the stray and to decide if it were one that she had lost. Not recognizing it as hers, she forthwith laid claim to the slaughtered pig. The case was brought before the elders of the church of Boston, who decided that the woman was mistaken. Mrs. Sherman then accused the captain of theft, and brought the case before ^flcS/»X" >^*2/ltl»- a jury, which exonerated the de- fendant with £1 costs. The cap- tain then sued Mrs. Sherman for defamation of character and got a verdict for ;^20 damages, a round sum indeed to assess upon the poor woman. ^ But long before this it had appeared that she had many partisans and supporters; it had become a political question, in which the popular pro- test against aristocracy was implicated. Not yet brow- beaten, the warlike Mrs. Sherman appealed to th*e General Court. The length of the hearing shows the importance which was attached to the case. After seven days of dis- cussion the vote was taken. Seven assistants and eight deputies approved the former decisions, two assistants and fifteen deputies condemned them, while seven deputies refrained from voting. In other words. Captain Keayne had a decided majority among the more aristocratic assist- ants, while Mrs. Sherman seemed to prevail with the more democratic deputies. Regarding the result as the vote of a single body, the woman had a plurality of two ; regarding it as the vote of a double body, her cause had prevailed in the 1 It was about equivalent to 500 gold dollai's of the present day. THE PLANTING OF NEW ENGLAND "S ST. BOTOLPH S CHURCH, BOSTON. ENGLAND lower house, but was lost by the veto of the upper. No decision was reached at the time, but after a year of discus- sion the legislature was permanently separated into two houses, each with a veto power upon the other ; and this was felt to be a victory for the assistants. As for the ecclesiastical polity of the new colony, it had begun to take shape immediately upon the arrival of Endi- cott's party at Salem. The clergymen, Samuel Skelton and ii6 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND Francis Higginson, consecrated each other, and a church covenant and confession of faith were drawn up by Higgin- son. Thirty persons joining in this covenant constituted the first church in the colony ; and several brethren ap- pointed by this church proceeded formally to ordain the two ministers by the laying on of hands. In such simple wise was the first Congregational church in Massachusetts founded. The simple fact of removal from England con- verted all the Puritan emigrants into Separatists, as Robinson had already predicted. Some, however, were not yet quite prepared for so radical a measure. These proceedings gave umbrage to two of the Salem party, who attempted forth- with to set up a separate church in conformity with episco- pal models. A very important question was thus raised at once, but it was not allowed to disturb the peace of the colony. Endicott was a man of summary methods. He immediately sent the two malcontents back to England ; Thetri- and thus the colonial church not only seceded ™p'ara-^ from the national establishment, but the principle tism -^^a^s virtually laid down that the Episcopal form of worship would not be tolerated in the colony. For the present such a. step was to be regarded as a measure of self-defence on the part of the colonists. Episcopacy to them meant actual and practical tyranny, — the very thing they had crossed the ocean expressly to get away from, — and it was hardly to be supposed that they would encourage the growth of it in their new home. One or two surpliced priests, conducting worship in accordance with the Book of Common Prayer, might in themselves be excellent members of society ; but behind the surpliced priest the colonist saw the intolerance of Laud and the despotism of the Court of High Commission. In 163 1 a still more searching measure of self-protection was adopted. It was decided that "no man shall be admitted to the freedom of this body politic, but such as are members of some of the churches within the limits of the same." Into the merits of this measure as illustrating the theocratic ideal of society which the Puri- THE PLANTING OF NEW ENGLAND 117 tans sought to realize in New England, we shall inquire here- after. At present we must note that, as a measure of self- protection, this decree was intended to keep out of the new community all emissaries of Strafford and Laud, as well as such persons as Morton and Gardiner and other agents of Sir Ferdinando Gorges. By the year 1634 the scheme of the Massachusetts Com- pany had so far prospered that nearly 4000 Englishmen had come over, and some twenty villages on or near the shores of the bay had been founded. The building of permanent houses, roads, fences, and bridges had begun to go on quite iaCr^:"^^*^, cotton's vicai^age briskly ; farms were beginning to yield a return for the labour of the husbandman ; lumber, furs, and salted fish were begin- ning to be sent to England in exchange for manufactured articles ; 4000 goats and 1 500 head of cattle grazed in the pastures, and swine innumerable rooted in the clearings and helped to make ready the land for the ploughman. Political meetings were held, justice was administered by magistrates after old English precedents, and church services were per- THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND formed by a score of clergymen, nearly all graduates of Cam- bridge, though one or two had their degrees from Oxford, and nearly all of whom had held livings in the Church of England. The most distinguished of these clergymen, John Cotton, in his youflger days a Fellow and Tutor of Emmanuel College, had for more than twenty years been rector of St. Botolph's, when he left the most magnificent parish church in England to hold service in the first rude meeting-house of the new Boston. From Emmanuel Col- lege came also Thomas Hooker and John Harvard. Besides these clergymen, so many of the leading persons concerned in the emigration were university men that it was not long before a university began to seem indispensable to the colony. In 1636 the General Court appropriated ^£^400 toward the establishment of a college at the New Town. In 1638 John Found" Harvard, dying childless, bequeathed his library of Harvard and the half of his estate to the new college, which ° ^^^ the Court forthwith ordered to be called by his name ; while in honour of the mother university the New Town received the name of Cambridge. THE PLANTING OF NEW ENGLAND 119 WEST GATE OF HAKVARD COLLEGE (1^90)' It has been said that the assembly which decreed the establishment of Harvard College was "the first body in which the people, by their representatives, ever gave their own money to found a place of education." The state- ment is incorrect,^ for before 1609, when the Pilgrims began their sojourn in Leyden, the system of public schools, paid for' out of the municipal or parochial taxes, had become thoroughly established in the Netherlands ; there were not only public common schools, but every city and many rural 1 The building on the right, Massachusetts Hall, is the same that is shown on the right of the preceding picture, engraved in 1726. 2 This statement, which has been often repeated, was made by- Edward Everett, in his speech on the second centennial celebration of the founding of Harvard, September 8, 1836. See Quincy, History of Harvard University, ii. 654. The orator went on to say : " If there is such a thing as a precedent for such a foundation as is this day com- memorated, it must, of course, be in England ; " and as no such Eng- lish precedent could be cited, he concluded that on September 8, 1636, " this auspicious precedent was established, of malcing the support of education a public charge." Until the publication of Motley's books, the English-speaking world knew very little of Dutch history. 120 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND places had their pubhc Latin schools. ^ Nevertheless, the founding of Harvard College, though not an unprecedented act, was surely a most memorable one if we have regard to all the circumstances of the year in which it was done. On every side danger was in the air. Threatened at once with Threefold an Indian war, with the enmity of the home gov- thr^ear"^ ernment, and with grave dissensions among them- '636 selves, the year 1636 was a trying one indeed for the little community of Puritans, and their founding a col- lege by public taxation just at this time is a striking illus- tration of their unalterable purpose to realize, in this new home, their ideal of an educated Christian society. That the government of Charles I. should view with a hostile eye the growth of a Puritan state in New England is not at all surprising. The only fit ground for wonder would seem to be that Charles should have been willing at the outset to grant a charter .to the able and influential I Fromthe Puritaus who Organized the Company of Massachu- king, who getts Bay. Probably, however, the king thought attack the at first that it would relieve him at home if a few onybatis dozeu of the Puritau leaders could be allowed to diss^^s^ns Concentrate their minds upon a project of coloniza- at home tiou in America. It might divert attention for a moment from his own despotic schemes. Very likely the scheme would prove a failure and the Massachusetts colony incur a fate like that of Roanoke Island ; at all events, the wealth of the Puritans might better be sunk in a remote and perilous enterprise than employed at home in organizing resistance to the crown. Such, very likely, may have been the king's motive in granting the Massachusetts charter two days after turning his Parliament out of doors. But the events of the last half-dozen years had come to present the case in a new light. The young colony was not languishing. It was full of sturdy life ; it had wrought mischief to the schemes of Gorges ; and what was more, it had begun to take unheard-of liberties with things ecclesiastical and politi- ' Motley's United Netherlands, iv. 567. (2- C^^tton THE PLANTING OF NEW ENGLAND cal. Its example was getting to be a dangerous one. It was evidently worth while to put a strong curb upon Massa- chusetts. Any promise made to his subjects Charles re- garded as a promise made under duress which he was quite justified in breaking whenever it suited his purpose to- do so. Enemies of Massachusetts were busy in England. Schis- matics from Salem and revellers from Merrymount were ready with their tales of woe, and now Gorges and Mason were vigorously pressing their territorial claims. They bar- gained with the king. In February, 1635, the moribund Council for New England surrendered its charter and all its corporate rights in America, on condition that the king should disregard all the various grants by which these rights had from time to time been alienated, and should divide up the territory of New England in severalty among the mem- bers of the Council. In pursuance of this scheme Gorges and Mason, together with half a dozen noblemen, were al- lowed to parcel out New England among. themselves as they should see fit. In this way the influence of the Marquis of Hamilton, with the Earls of Arundel, Surrey, Carlisle, and Stirling, might be actively enlisted against the Massachu- setts Company. A writ of qtio warranto was brought against it ; and it was proposed to send Sir Ferdinando to gov- ern New England with vicere- gal powers like those afterward exercised by Andros. For a moment the danger seemed alarming ; but, as Win- throp says, "the Lord frus- trated their design." It was noted as a special providence that the ship in which Gorges was to sail was hardly off the stocks when it fell to pieces. Then the most indefatigable enemy of the colony, John SEAL OF THE COUNCIL FOR NEW ENGLAND THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND Mason, suddenly died. The king issued his famous writ of ship-money and set all England by the ears ; and, to crown all, the attempt to read the Episcopal liturgy at St. Giles's church in Edinburgh led straight to the Solemn League and Covenant. Amid the first mutterings of the Great Rebellion the proceedings against Massachusetts were dropped, and the unheeded colony went on thriving in its independent course. Possibly too some locks at Whitehall may have been turned with golden keys,^ for the company was rich, and the king was ever open to such arguments. But when the news of his evil designs had first reached THE TRAMOUNT, OR SUMMIT OF BEACON BILL, 1636 Boston the people of the infant colony showed no readiness to yield to intimidation. In their measures there was a de- cided smack of what was to be realized a hundred and forty years later. Orders were immediately issued for fortifying Castle Island in the harbour and the heights at Charles- town and Dorchester. Militia companies were put in train- ing, and a beacon was set up on the highest hill in Boston, to give prompt notice to all the surrounding country of any approaching enemy. While the ill-will of the home government thus kept the colonists in a state of alarm, there were causes of strife at work at their very doors, of which they were fain to rid themselves as soon as possible. Among all the Puritans who came to New Eng- land there is no more interesting figure than the learned, quick-witted pugnacious Welshman, Roger Williams. 1 C. F. Adams, Sir Christopher Gardiner, Knight., p. 31. 2. From religious dissen- sions ; Roger Williams A Kei into the LANGUAGE AMERICA^ U An help to the La-^g^ige of the Nathef m that part of America, called • NEiV^ENGL AND, S^ c * ■ *■ ' |Together. with briefe Oifer'VathHs of the Cu-» ftonies Manners and v\' or/hips, (^f of the |,'^, arorcidul -ynvej. In Peace and Warrc, # |l inLifc nnd Dcach. p^^ all which are a'dtfled Spirkuali Obferva^mt, fe Gencrall«nd Particular l>y the ^Amhmr, of Kjl ciiictc and ipccrdirule(upona!locca{ioii!. jto * M^ ail che Bngli^ I riiiabicing thole pans s PI yccpicafantand pionEibleco ' - |;4, ciie V ic vv oi al i u 'Cn : ■ *: iSr ROGER WiLLlAiMS Pikjed by Gregory Dexter^ 1^43, FIRST ENGLISH HOOK OF AMERICAN PHILOLOGY 124 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND He was over-fond of logical subtleties and delighted in con- troversy. There was scarcely any subject about which he did not wrangle, from the sinfulness of persecution to the propriety of women wearing veils in church. Yet, with all this love of controversy, there has perhaps never lived a more gentle and kindly soul. Within five years from the settlement of Massachusetts this young preacher had an- nounced the true principles of religious liberty with a clear- ness of insight quite remarkable in that age. Roger Wil- liams had been aided in securing an education by the great lawyer, Sir Edward Coke, and had lately taken his degree at Pembroke College, Cambridge ; but the boldness with which he declared his opinions had aroused the hostility of Laud, and in 163 1 he had come over to Plymouth, whence he removed two years later to Salem, and became pastor of the church there. The views of Williams, if logically carried out, involved the entire separation of church from state, the equal protection of all forms of religious faith, the repeal of all laws compelling attendance on public worship, the aboli- tion of tithes and of all forced contributions to the sjiipport of religion. Such views are to-day quite generally adopted by the more civilized portions of the Protestant world ; but it is needless to say that they were not the views of the seventeenth century, in Massachusetts or elsewhere. For declaring such opinions as these on the continent of Europe, anywhere except in Holland, a man like Williams would in that age have run great risk of being burned at the stake. In England, under the energetic misgovernment of Laud, he would very likely have had to stand in the pillory with his ears cropped, or perhaps, like Bunyan and Baxter, would have been sent to jail. In Massachusetts such'views were naturally enough regarded as anarchical, but in Williams's case they were further complicated by grave political im- prudence. He wrote a pamphlet in which he denied the right of the colonists to the lands which they held in New England under the king's grant. He held that the soil belonged to the Indians, that the settlers could only obtain THE PLANTING OF NEW ENGLAND IZJ a valid title to it by purchase from them, and that the ac- ceptance of a patent from a mere intruder, like the king, was a sin requiring public repentance. This doctrine was sure to be regarded in England as an attack upon the king's supremacy over Massachusetts, and at the same time an incident occurred in Salem which made it all the more un- fo-rtunate. The royal colours under which the little com- panies of militia marched were emblazoned with the red cross of St. George. The uncompromising Endicott loathed this emblem as tainted with Popery, and one day he publicly de- faced the flag of the Salem Company by cutting out the cross; The enemies of Mas- sachusetts misinter- preted this act as a defiance aimed at the royal authority, and they attributed it to the teachings of Wil- liams. In view of the king's unfriendliness ■ these were dangerous proceedings. Endicott was summoned before the General Court at Boston, where he was publicly reprimanded and declared incapable of holding office for a year. A few months afterward, in January, 1636, Williams was ordered by the General Court to come to Boston and embark in a ship that was about to set sail for England. But he escaped into the forest, and made his way through the snow to the wigwam of Massasoit. He was a rare lin- guist, and had learned to talk fluently in the language of the Indians, and now he passed the winter in trying to instill into their ferocious hearts something of the gentleness of ROGER Williams's church in salem (1633) 126 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND Christianity. In the spring he was privately notified by Winthrop that if he were to steer his course to Narragan- sett bay he would be secure from molestation ; and such was the beginning of the settlement of Providence.^ ^^00^ S^j^amA Shortly before the departure of Williams, there came to Boston one of the greatest Puritan statesmen of that heroic Henry ^^^' *^^ younger Henry Vane. It is pleasant to Vane and remember that the man who did so much to over- Hutchin- throw the tyranny of Strafford, who brought the ^°" military strength of Scotland to the aid of the hard-pressed Parliament, who administered the navy with which Blake won his astonishing victories, who dared even withstand Cromwell at the height of his power when his measures became too violent, — it is pleasant to remember that this admirable man was once the chief magistrate of an American commonwealth. It is pleasant for a Harvard man to remember that as such he presided over the assembly that founded our first university. Thorough republican and en- thusiastic lover of liberty, he was spiritually akin to Jefferson and to Samuel Adams. Like Williams he was a friend to toleration, and like Williams he found Massachusetts an uncomfortable home. In 1636 he was only twenty-four years of age, "young in years," and perhaps not yet "in ^ The successor of Williams as pastor of the church in Salem was the eccentric Hugh Peters, a man of much ability, whose preaching was popular by reason of its coars^ but vivid imagery and quaint jests. He was afterward a preacher in the Parliamentary army. After the return of Charles II. in 1660, he was executed for high treason. THE PLANTING OF NEW ENGLAND 127 sage counsel old." 1 He was chosen governor for that year, and his administration was stormy. Among those persons who had followed Mr. Cotton from Lincoln- shire was Mrs. Anne Hutchinson, a very bright and capable lady, if perhaps some- what impulsive and indiscreet. She had brought over with her, says Winthrop, " two dangerous errors : first, that the person of the Holy Ghost dwells in a justified person ; second, that no sanctification can help to evidence to us our justification." Into the merits of such abstruse doctrines it is not necessary for the historian to enter. One can hardly repress a smile as one reflects how early in the history of Boston some of its characteristic soci,al features were de- veloped. It is curious to read of lectures there in 1636, lectures by a lady, and transcendentalist lectures withal ! Never did lectures in Boston arouse greater excitement than Mrs. Hutchinson's. Many of her- hearers ' forsook the teachings of the regu- /jx* lar ministers, to follow ' her. She was very ef- fectively supported by her brother-in-law, Mr. Wheelwright, an eloquent preacher, and for a while she seemed to be carrying everything before ^ Milton's noble sonnet is perhaps the finest tribute ever paid by a man of letters to a statesman. \huqli v^eXers ^ohn. 'ufi^'iAi mJ "U^JCi 128 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND her. She won her old minister, Mr. Cotton, she won the stout soldier, Captain Underhill, she won Governor Vane himself j while she incurred the deadly hatred of such men as Dudley and Cotton's associate, John Wilson. The church at Boston was divided into two hostile camps. The sensible Winthrop marvelled at hearing men distinguished "by being under a covenant of grace or a covenant of works, as in other countries between Protestants and Papists," and he ventured to doubt whether any man could really tell what the differ- ence was. The theological strife went on until it threatened to breed civil disaffection among the followers of Mrs. Hutchinson. A peculiar bitterness was given to the affair, from the fact that she professed to be endowed with the spirit of prophecy and taught her partisans that it was their duty to follow the biddings of a supernatural light ; and there was nothing which the orthodox Puritan so stead- fastly abhorred as the anarchical pretence of living by the aid of a supernatural light. In a strong and complex society the teachings of Mrs. Hutchinson would have awakened but a languid speculative interest, or perhaps would have passed by unheeded. In the simple society of Massachusetts- in 1636, physically weak , and as yet struggling for very exist- encej the practical effect of such teachings rriay well have been deemed politically dangerous. When things came to such a pass that the forces of the colony were mustered for an Indian campaign and the men of Boston were ready to shirk the service because they suspected their chaplain to be "under a covenant of works," it was naturally thought to be high time to put Mrs. Hutchinson down. In the. spring . of 1637 Winthrop was elected governor, and in August Vane returned to England. His father had at that moment more influence with the king than any other person except Strafford, and the young man had indiscreetly hinted at an appeal to the home government for the protection of the Antinomians, as Mrs. Hutchinson's followers were called. But an appeal from America to England was something which Massachusetts would no more tolerate in the days of •1 i'J 4 ^ 1^ pi « Pi 4 THE PLANTING OF NEW ENGLAND 129 Winthrop than in the days of Hancock and Adams. Soon after Vane's departure, Mrs. Hutchinson and her friends were ordered to leave the colony. It was doubtless an odious act of persecution, yet of all such acts which stain the history of Massachusetts in the seventeenth century, it is just the one for which the plea of political necessity may really be to some extent accepted. We now begin to see how the spreading of the New Eng- land colonization and the founding of distinct communities were hastened by these differences of opinion on theological questions or on questions concerning the relations between church and state. Of Mrs. Hutchinson's friends and adher- ents, some went northward, and founded the towns of Exeter and Hampton. Some time before Portsmouth had been set- tled by followers of Mason and Gorges, and Dover by the the Hilton brothers, Puritans. In 1641 these towns were added to the domain of Massachusetts, and so the matter stood until 16.79, when we shall see Charles II. marking them off as a separate province, under a royal government. Such were the beginnings of New Hampshire. Mrs. Hutch- inson herself, however, with William Coddington and other adherents,. bought the island of Aquedneck from the Indians^ and settlements were made at Portsmouth and Newport! After a quarter of a century of turbulence, these settlements coalesced with Williams's col- ony at Provi- dence, and thus was formed the state of Rhode Island. After her husband's death in 1642, Mrs. Hutchinson left Aqued- neck and settled upon some land to the west of Stamford and supposed to be within the territory of New Netherland. There in the following year she was cruelly murdered by Indians, together with nearly all her children and servants, sixteen victims in all. One of her descendants was the Q^ ^cjl^^fin^^^TL-^ 130 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND illustrious Thomas Hutchinson, the first great American his- torian, and last royal governor of Massachusetts. To the dangers arising from the ill-will of the crown, and from these theological quarrels, there was added the danger of a general attack by the savages. Down to this time, since the landing of the Pilgrims at Plymouth, the settlers of New- England had been in no way molested by the natives. Mas- sasoit's treaty with the Pilgrims was scrupulously observed on both sides, and kept the Wampanoags quiet for fifty- four years. The somewhat smaller tribe which took its name from the Massa-wachusett, or Great Hill, of Milton (now called Blue Hill), kept on friendly terms with the set- tlers about Boston, because these red men coveted the Sfsm^^sv^" I OLD VIEW OF BOSTON NECK, WITT! BLUE HILL IN THE DISTANCE powerful aid of the white strangers in case of war with their hereditary foes the Tarratines, who dwelt in the Piscataqua country. It was only when the English began to leave 3. From these coast regions and press into the interior that diaJs" the ^'^^^t)!^ arose. The western shores of Narragansett Pequot su- bay were possessed by the numerous and warlike tribe of that name, which held in partial subjection the Nyantics near Point Judith. To the west of these, and THE PLANTING OF NEW ENGLAND 131 about the Thames river, dwelt the still more formidable Pequots, a tribe which for bravery and ferocity asserted a preeminence in New England not unlike that which the Iroquois league of the Mohawk valley was soon to win over all North America east of the Mississippi. North of the Pequots, the squalid villages of the Nipmucks were scattered over the beautiful highlands that stretch in long ridges from Quinsigamond ^ to Nichewaug,^ and beyond toward blue Monadnock. Westward, in the lower Connecticut valley, lived the Mohegans, a small but valiant tribe, now for some time held tributary to their Pequot cousins, and very restive under the yoke. The thickly wooded mountain ranges be- tween the Connecticut and the Hudson had few human inhabitants. These hundred miles of crag and forest were a bulwark none too wide or strong against the incursions of the terrible Mohawks, whose name sent a shiver of fear throughout savage New England, and whose forbearance the Nipmucks and Mohegans were fain to ensure by a yearly payment of blackmail. Each summer there came two Mo- ' hawk elders, secure in the dread that Iroquois prowess had everywhere inspired ; and up and down the Connecticut val- ley they seized the tribute of weapons and wampum, and proclaimed the last harsh edict issued from the savage coun- cil at Onondaga. The scowls that greeted their unwelcome visits were doubtless ilowhere fiercer than among the Mohe- gans, thus ground down between Mohawk and Pequot as between the upper and the nether millstone. Among the various points in which civilized man surpasses the savage none is more conspicuous than the military brute force which in the highest civilization is always latent though comparatively seldom exerted. The sudden intrusion of Eng- lish warfare into the Indian world of the seventeenth century may wfell have seemed to the red men a supernatural visita- tion, like the hurricane or the earthquake. The uncompro- mising vigour with which the founders of Massachusetts carried on their work was viewed in some quarters with a ' Worcester. '' Petersham. 132 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND IhJ) ^-^ |(o // --^)\ mftCi^ //C/^ 1 // X. 1 v^ iL-/--^^i lf^^'% ^/^f#C 1 ^^^^ 5j» ^/^ / L%-^^ "^vf^^^ -^S^k /^^ ^^•^ <^J^ m \ '"'"^^^c y^ n Uflt Cw W^ yt ^^^w\ |\ ' 1"^ y^kj ^\ /^b i^ IW l-w% ■^^^-^ 11 JK »! s^'f' ,>' 1W\ j w^- iW — v^ -l^r-¥r — \Il — 1^^ \h^^\ #^ \'^\^^ M/^9S Vr*^ v^^SM c - W I » "W \V^' \ *" ^-^^ dissatisfaction which soon thrust the Enghsh migration into the very heart of the Indian country. The first movement, however, was directed against the en- croachments of New Nether- land. In October, 1634, some men of Plymouth, led by Wil- liam Holmes, sailed up the Con- necticut river, and, after bandy- First move- ing threats with a ^o^^ert? party of Dutch who "="* had built a rude fort on the site of Hartford, passed on and fortiiied themselves on the site of Windsor. Next year Wouter Van Twiller, Director of New Netherland, sent a com- pany of seventy men to drive away these intruders, but after reconnoitring the situation the Dutchmen thought it best 'not to make an attack. Their little stronghold at Hartford remained uninolested by the English, and, in order to secure the communi- cation between this advanced outpost and New Amsterdam, Van Twiller decided to build an- other fort at the mouth of the river, but this time the English were beforehand. Rumours of Dutch designs may have reached the ears of Lord Say-and-Sele and Lord Brooke — " fanatic Brooke," as Scott calls him in " Marmion " — who had obtained THE PLANTING OF NEW ENGLAND 133 from the Council for New England a grant of territory on the shores of the Sound. These noblernen chose as their agent the younger John Winthrop, son of the Massachu- setts governor, and this new-comer arrived upon the scene just in time to drive away Van Twiller's vessel and build an English fort which in honour of his two patrons he called "Say-Brooke." Had it not been for seeds of discontent already sown in Massachusetts, the English hold upon the Connecticut val- ley might perhaps have been for a few years con- Disaffec- fined to these two military outposts at Windsor M°"'"h and Saybrook. But there were people in Massa- ^^tts chusetts who did not look with favour upon the aristocratic 134 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND and theocratic features in its polity. The provision that none but church-members should vote or hold office was by- no means unanimously approved. We shall see it in the course of another generation putting altogether too much temporal power into the hands of the clergy, and we can trace the growth of the opposition to it until in the reign of Charles II. it becomes a dangerous source of weakness to Massachusetts. At the outset the opposition seems to have been strongest in Dorchester, Watertown, and "the New Town " (Cambridge). When the Board of Assistants undertook to secure for themselves permanency of "tenure, together with the power of choosing the governor and mak- ing the laws, these three towns sent deputies to Boston to inspect the charter and see if it authorized any such stretch of power. They were foremost in insisting that representa- tives chosen by the towns must have a share in the general government. Men who held such opinions were naturally unwilling to increase the political weight of the clergy, who, during these early disputes and indeed until the downfall of the charter, were inclined to take aristocratic views and to sympathize with the Board of Assistants. Cotton declared that democracy was no fit government either for church or for commonwealth, and the majority of the ministers agreed with him. Chief among those who did not was the learned and eloquent Thomas Hooker, pas- / • ri'^'^fljiA ^°^ °^ ^^ church at the New Town. When Winthrop, in a letter to Hooker, defended the restriction of the suffrage on the ground that " the best part is always the least, and of that best part the wiser part is always the lesser," Hooker replied that "in matters which concern the common good, a general council, chosen by all, to transact businesses which concern all, I conceive most suitable to rule and most safe for relief of the whole." It is interesting to meet, on the very thres- hold of American history, with such a lucid statement of the strongly contrasted views which a hundred and fifty years later were to be represented on a national scale by Hamilton THE PLANTING OF NEW ENGLAND 135 and Jefferson. There were many in the New Town who took Hooker's view of the matter ; and there, as also in Water- town and Dorchester, which in 1633 took the initiative in framing town governments with selectmen, a strong disposi- tion was shown to evade the restrictions upon the suffrage. While such things were talked, about in the summer of 1633 the adventurous John Oldham was making his way- through the forest and over the mountains into the Con- necticut valley, and when he returned to the coast his glowing accounts set some people to thinking. Two years afterward a few pioneers from Dorchester pushed „ , , , ., Connecti- through the wilderness as far as the Plymouth cut pie- men's fort at Windsor, while a party from Water- town went farther and came to a halt upon the site of Wethersfield. A larger party, bringing cattle and such goods as they could carry, set out in the autumn and succeeded in reaching Windsor. Their winter supplies were sent around by water to meet them, but early in November the ships had barely passed the Saybrook fort when they found the river blocked with ice and were obliged to return to Boston. The sufferings of the pioneers, thus cut off from the world, were dreadful. Their cattle perished, and they were reduced to a diet of acorns and ground-nuts. Some seventy of them, walking on the frozen river to Saybrook, were so fortunate as to find a crazy little sloop jammed in the ice. They suc- ceeded in cutting her adrift, and steered themselves back to Boston. Others surmounted greater obstacles in struggling back through the snow over the region which the Pullman car now traverses, regardless of seasons, in three hours. A few grim heroes, the nameless founders of a noble common- wealth, stayed on the spot and defied starvation. In the next June, 1636, the New Town congregation, a hundred or more in number, led by their sturdy pastor, and bringing with them 160 head of cattle, made the pilgrimage to the Connecticut valley. Women and children took part in this pleasant summer journey ; Mrs. Hooker, the pastor's wife, being too ill to walk, was carried on a litter. Thus, in the 136 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND memorable year in which our great university was born, did Cambridge become, in the true Greek sense of a much- abused word, the metropolis or "mother town " of Hartford. The migration at once became strong in numbers. During the past twelvemonth a 'score of ships had brought from England to Massachusetts more than 3000 souls, and so great an accession made further movement easy. Hooker's pilgrims were soon followed by the Dorchester and Water- town congregations, and by the next May 800 people were .living in Windsor, Hartford, and Wethersfield. As we read of these movements, not of individuals, but of organic communities, united in allegiance to a church and its pastor, and fervid with the instinct of self-government, we seem to see Greek history renewed, but with centuries of added political training. For one year a board of commissioners from Massachusetts governed the new towns, but at the end of that time the tovvns chose representatives and held a General Court at Hartford, and thus the separate existence of Connecticut was begun. As for Springfield, which was settled about the same time by a party from Roxbury, led by William Pynchon, it remained for some years doubtful to which state it belonged. At the opening session of the General Court, May 31, 1638, Mr. Hooker preached a ser- mon of wonderful power, in which he maintained that " the foundation of authority is laid in the free consent of the people," "that the choice of public magistrates belongs unto the people by God's own allowance," and that "they who have power to appoint officers and magistrates have the right also to set the bounds and limitations of the power and place unto which they call them." On the 14th of January, 1639, all the freemen of the three towns assembled at Hartford and adopted a written constitution in which The first the hand of the great preacher is clearly discern- ronsdtu- '^^^- ^'^ ^^ worthy of note that this document t'°" contains none of the conventional references to a "dread sovereign" or a "gracious king," nor the slightest allusion to the British or any other government outside of THE PLANTING OF NEW ENGLAND 137 Connecticut itself, nor does it prescribe any condition of church-membership for the right of suffrage. It was the first written constitution known to history, that created a government,! and it marked the beginnings of American tyO-i^&xm- ^YruQtOTL^ democracy, of which Thomas Hooker deserves more than any other man to be called the father. The government of the United States to-day is in lineal descent more nearly ^ The compact drawn up in the Mayflower's cabin was not, in the strict sense, a constitution, which is a document defining and limiting the functions of government. Magna Charta partook of the nature of a written constitution, as far as it went, but it did not create a govern- ment. I I ! - I I h I 11.11 IV I I I I WILLIAM WOOD'S MAP 1 1 1^ 1 1 "1 r 1 \-4^ 1 1 1 -| 1 is 1 - t, 1 -n. OF NEW ENGLAND (1634) 140 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND related to that of Connecticut than to that of any of the other thirteen colonies. The most noteworthy feature of the Connecticut republic was that it was a federation of in- dependent towns, and that all attributes of sovereignty not expressly granted to the General Court remained, as of origi- nal right, in the towns. Moreover, while the governor and council were chosen by a majority vote of the whole people, and by a suffrage that was almost universal, there was for each township an equality of representation in the assem- bly.i This little federal republic was allowed to develop peacefully and normally ; its constitution was not violently wrenched out of shape like that of Massachusetts at the end of the seventeenth century. It silently grew till it became the strongest political structure on the continent, as was illustrated in the remarkable military energy and the un- shaken financial credit of Connecticut during the Revolu- tionary War ; and in the chief crisis of the Federal Con- vention of 1787 Connecticut, with her compromise which secured equal state representation in one branch of the national government and popular representation in the other, played the controlling part. Before the little federation of towns had framed its govern- ment, it had its Indian question to dispose of. Three years before the migration led by Hooker, a crew of eight traders, 'while making their way up the river to the Dutch station on the site of Hartford, had been murdered by a party of Indians subject to Sassacus, head war-chief of the Pequots. Negotiations concerning this outrage had gone on between Sassacus and the government at Boston, and the Pequots ■ had promised to deliver up the murderers, but had neglected . . . to do so. In the summer of 1636 some Indians on itheTequot Block Island subject to the Narragansetts mur- ^^'' dered the pioneer John Oldham, who was sailing on the Sound, and captured his little vessel. At this, says Underbill, " God stirred up the hearts " of Governor Vane and the rest of the magistrates. They were determined to 1 See Johnston's Connecticut, p. 321, a brilliant book. THE PLANTING OF NEW ENGLAND 141 make an end of the Indian question and show the barbarians that such things would not be endured. First an embassy- was sent to Canonicus and his nephew Miantonomo, chief sachems of the Narragansetts, who hastened to disclaim all responsibility for the murder, and to throw the blame entirely upon the Indians of the island. Vane then sent out three ves- sels under command of Endi- cott, who ravaged Block Island, burning wigwams, sinking ca- noes, and slaying dogs, for the men had taken to the woods. Endicott then crossed to the mainland to reckon with the Pequots. He demanded the surrender of the murderers, with a thousand fathoms of wampum for damages ; and not getting a satisfactory answer, he attacked the Indians, killed a score of them, seized their ripe corn, and burned and spoiled what he could. But such reprisals served only to enrage the red men. Lyon Gardiner, commander of the Saybrook fort, complained to Endicott : " You come hither to raise these wasps about my ears ; then you will take wing and flee away." The immediate effect was to incite Sassacus -to do his utmost to compass the ruin of the English. The super- stitious awe with which the white men were at first regarded had been somewhat lessened by fa- miliar contact with them, as in yEsop's fable of the fox and the lion. The resources of Indian diplomacy were exhausted in the attempt to unite the Narragansett warriors with the Pequots in a grand crusade against the white men. Such a combination could hardly have been as for- midable as that which was effected forty years afterward in King Philip's war ; for the savages had not as yet become accustomed to firearms, and the English settlements did SEAL OF' HARVARD COLLEGE 142 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND not present so many points exposed to attack; but there is no doubt that it might have wrought fearful havoc. We can, at any rate, find no difficulty in comprehending the manifold perplexity of the Massachusetts men at this time, threatened as they were at once by an Indian crusade, by the machinations of a faithless king, and by a bitter theo- logical quarrel at home, in this eventful year when they laid aside part of their incomes to establish Harvard College. The schemes of Sassacus were unsuccessful. The hered- itary enmity of the Narragansetts toward their Pequot rivals was too strong to be lightly overcome. Roger Wil- Sassaciis liams, taking advantage of this feeling, so worked b ^Rcfer upon the minds of the Narragansett chiefs that in Williams the autumn of 1636 they sent an embassy to Boston and made a treaty of alliance with the English. The Pequots were thus left to fight out their own quar- rel ; and had they / 1 d/l/Ji' still been separated from the English by the distance between Boston and the Thames river, the feud might very likely have smouldered until the drift of events had given a different shape to it. But as the English had in this very year thrown out their advanced posts into the lower Connecticut valley, there was clearly no issue from the situation save in deadly war. All through the winter of 1636-37 the Connecticut towns were kept in a state of alarm by the savages. Men going to their work were killed and horribly mangled. A Wethersfield man was kidnapped and roasted alive. Embold- ened by the success of this feat, the Pequots attacked The Pe- Wcthersfield, massacted ten people, and carried ?he°wa*r^^ away two girls. Wrought up to desperation by ipath alone thcsc atrocitics, the Connecticut men appealed to Massachusetts and Plymouth for aid, and put into service ninety of their own number, under command of John Mason, an excellent and sturdy officer who had won golden opinions ^;^n^^-/iri*rr toUlt-n.Kw. if,!*?. . • , ] '30 If'uc JoJinfon f/I.-oDisif oBtM.-iEi|fe t« .a Genvk-! sr.iTierrinfrit fi.ific'ty & vin«<-'.de<"«<^-""-'' "> */ 1 » 1 r Si-'aroii MefiipplyeJof j'rovif.rtSifroffiEnjjlan-i. 'Ri J ;*. ?rMr p ortduie atrongi' the Jn.'ijins'by t!ie 'ir.^i j * f.'x'when TChickatabut batlicfsx^fK-iPoiilctcyci^s |T ^ (5 1 Mr S.ii.uasii.-dton Fiftor to the ChuicbstS^an ij A preitMir-<-'»e . wJrtrin At' gTc^t.Hcpe tit4D0tti» «'a?3rfvt-n<.yih-- inaliihtif >5h-'-.- (I; j BxicV-Hl ndfcbvu.- 7 TKcfiiftSvnodat Cm ,.;, V. !■ j VtTi. Hutci-iir.foT) & her c;; ors bai'iV-, ■ <> 3 A-eiok-ntte(r.p.;ft which bi.jfecJoKT.-; ;^ St Chari0t«TO, & c-'U'fc<3 two flits Jr; T - yi4 ^ohn Hjtvar.t maf^c-rof ArrSjof EnTf;\:rM _ ' j in C._n.bf idjicdecc-f -d : Si bj ■.villeav".' tii>.' -v - S *'?5i; I tft-rtc (v.hif'p ■arrtou»ti-dto-.}bwPa(fi«!(is. )ilieiW.ei.i,ij50». aa»nwF«4<:»«af l'ii»»«s «athw?>i i^oij5*Se. . > ■- j isiifiBytoienii fjiWcoagJi through tb«Oo»5js&5 ,.|if.'ri)e, Hooh«r, 5',j;^!-'!»rof the<.hsfeh jtH«|tf»t, r.Sedfri'iwWslebonre, .' v J, fit . S'eei< V.tfcJiu t»tl»« CiiKtuijM Ks^djif^, «wi. \ I / AT SAMUEL GKliEN'S PKIiSS IN CAMBRIDf^E ^^ -O^ IS2 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND have goaded her into rebellion. The war of independence might have been waged a century sooner than it was. It is not easy to point to any especial advantage that could have come to America from this ; one is rather inclined to think of the peculiarly valuable political training of the eighteenth century that would have been lost. Such surmises are for the most part idle. But as concerns Europe, it is plain to be seen, for reasons stated in my first chapter, that the decisive victory of Charles I. would have been a calamity of the first magnitude. It would have been like the Greeks losing Marathon or the Saracens winning Tours, supposing the worst consequences ever imagined in those hypothetical cases to have been realized. Or taking a more contracted view, we can see how England, robbed of her Puritan ele- ment, might still have waxed' in strength, as France has done in spite of losing the Huguenots ; but she . could not have taken the proud position that she has come to occupy as mother of nations. Her preeminence since Cromwell's time has been chiefly due to her unrivalled power of planting self-supporting colonies, and that power has had its roots in English self-government. It is the vitality of the English Idea that is making the language of Cromwell and Washing- ton dominant in the world. CHAPTER IV THE NEW ENGLAND CONFEDERACY The Puritan exodus to New England, which came to an end about 1640, was purely and exclusively English. There was nothing in it that came from the continent of Europe, nothing that was either Irish or Scotch, very little that was Welsh. As Palfrey says, the population of 26,000 ^^. that had been planted in New England by 1640 was purely " thenceforward continued to multiply on its own soil for a century and a half, in remarkable seclusion from other communities." During the whole of this period New England received but few immigrants ; and it was not until after the Revolutionary War that its people had fairly started on their westward march into the state of New York and beyond, until now, after yet another century, we find some of their descendants dwelling in a homelike Salem and a Portland of charming beauty on the Pacific coast. Three times between the meeting of the Long Parliament and the meeting of the Continental Congress did the New England colonies receive a slight infusion of non-English blood. In 1652, after his victories at Dunbar and Worcester, Crom- well sent 270 of his Scottish prisoners to Boston, where the descendants of some of them still dwell. After the revoca- tion of the Edict of Nantes in 1685, 150 families of Hugue- nots came to Massachusetts. And finally in 1719, 120 Presbyterian families came over from the north of Ireland, and settled at Londonderry in New Hampshire, and else- where. In view of these facts it may be said that there is not a county in England of which the population is more purely English than the population of New England at the end of the eighteenth century. From long and careful re- 154 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND search, Mr. Savage, the highest authority on this subject, concludes that more than 98 in 100 of the New England people at that time could trace their origin to England iii the narrowest sense, excluding even Wales. As already observed, every English shire contributed something to the emigration, but there was a marked preponderance of people from the East Anglian counties. The population of New England was nearly as homoge- neous in social condition as it was in blood. The emigra- tion was preeminent for its respectability. Like the best Respecta- part of the emigration to Virginia, it consisted ter of thT largely of country squires and yeomen. The men emigration ^^q followed Winthrop were thrifty and prosper- ous in their old homes from which their devotion to an idea made them voluntary exiles. They attached so much importance to regular industry and decorous behaviour that for a long time the needy and shiftless people who usually make trouble in new colonies were not tolerated among them. Hence the early history of New England is remark- ably free from those scenes of violence and disorder which have so often made hideous the first years of new commu- nities. Of negro slaves there were very few, and these were employed wholly in domestic service ; there were not enough of them to affect the industrial life of New England or to be worth mentioning as a class. Neither were there many of the wretched people, kidnapped from the jails and slums of English seaports, such as in those early days when negro labour was scarce, were sent by ship-loads to Virginia, to become the progenitors of the "white trash." There were a few indented white servants, usually of the class known as " redemptioners," or immigrants who voluntarily bound themselves to service for a stated time in order to defray" the cost of their voyage from Europe. At a later time there were many of these "redemptioners " in the mid- dle colonies, but in New England they were very few ; and as no stigma of servitude was attached to manual labour, they were apt at the end of their terms of service to become THE NEW ENGLAND CONFEDERACY 155 independent farmers ; thus they ceased to be recognizable as a distinct class of society. Nevertheless the common statement tTiat no traces of the " mean white " are to be found in New England is perhaps somewhat too sweeping. Interspersed among those respectable and tidy mountain villages, once full of such vigorous life, one sometimes comes upon little isolated groups of wretched hovels whose local reputation is sufficiently indicated by such terse epi- thets as "Hardscrabble " or " Hellhuddle." Their denizens may in many instances be the degenerate offspring of a sound New England stock, but they sometimes show strong points of resemblance to that "white trash" which has come to be a recognizable strain of the English race ; and one cannot help suspecting that while the New England colonies made every effort to keep out such riff raff, it may nevertheless have now and then crept in. However this may be, it cannot be said that this element ever formed a noticeable feature in the life of colonial New England. As regards their social derivation, the settlers of New England were homogeneous in character to a remarkable degree, and they were drawn from the sturdiest part of the English stock. In all history there has been no other instance of colonization so exclu- sively effected by « 1 1 O picked and chosen vtn^'fl.?ja. jyou^j^U'Cm.. men. The colonists (^ knew this, and were proud of it, as well they might be. It was the simple truth that was spoken by William Stoughton when he said, in his election sermon of 1688: "God sifted a whole nation, that He might send choice grain into the wilderness." This matter comes to have more than a local interest, when we reflect that the 26,000 New Englanders of 1640 have in two centuries and a half increased to something like 2S,ooo,ooo. From these men halve come at least one fourth of the present population of the United States. Striking as this fact may seem, it is perhaps less striking than the 156 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND fact of the original migration when duly considered. In these times, when great steamers sail every day from Eu- ropean ports, bringing immigrants to a country not less advanced in material civilization, than the country which they leave, the daily arrival of a thousand new citizens has come to be a commonplace event. But in the seventeenth HOUSE IN PLYMOUTH, ENGLAND, WHERE THE MAYFLOWER PILGRIMS WERE ENTERTAINED BEFORE SAILING" FOR AMERICA century the transfer of more than twenty thousand well- to-do people within twenty years from their comfortable homes in England to the American wilderness was by no means a commonplace event. It reminds one of the migra- tions of ancient peoples, and in the quaint thought of our forefathers it was aptly likened to the exodus of Israel from the Egyptian house of bondage. In this migration a principle of selection was at w;ork which insured an extraordinary uniformity of character and of purpose among the settlers. To this uniformity of pur- pose, combined with complete homogeneity of race, is due ».l.|l^.,Ji 111 I I " > ""»""»«»» l ^ "Ml IJ: WATERING OF || <^^ the 1 OLIVE PLANT II il IN CHR1S7S qAKDEN. |* •9* ,, .-, •*^* ** 4^/i?i*'*^ OR C^J<^fi>^ ^'9 «^^ ^-^ w ix - »^ , ^X A SHQ-RJ CATFXHISM || For the firft Entrance of oyr «^g, ChdmesforU LhUdrcn: •^"| »> i^r Enlafgcd bjr ,;?^ " ff j^ ^ three- jM ui^)pcndix ,j^^ J| By T^Oi^A; F/5A: P.iftour of the -il* 2^ Church of Chrift at CueliiiCilord |j^ %^ ia N'e\r~tH[iLind. »i^ t* A ^ -Sfl- !*£ T/^ Children flj'all be like 01 v:-p'..nts ■Slc' II round Abm thj Tdle. Pfol. 128. ?. || <^* T'hofstlMtbe pUntedmthe tlo jc jj i-Ji ^i^f "^^ Lord'jhall fio:4nJh in the Caitrts ofjur otj't.f' «jtioj.f/ grttn at CAMBRIDCT , , TITLE OK JOHN FISKE'S CATECHISM ~V t^ ■^^■^H^i'»l^'H<<'44^t44^^fh>p\'f ''^m ♦J' t spiritual M i L K I ;X)STON, BABES |'|t| t In cither England, • |: 4^' >J Drawn out of the ■ '^ ^^ 4> /jut may he of !;ke ufetoa'riy 1 ?- *■ gv liVrlN COTTON, •5. Z>. I:- A> ... ., .''» ^. — '■-';:, •• VV ±' ^?7''l-?v/if Ji R > D G ^ 7' 5v ONE OF JOHN cotton's THE()|Jm;H AL TKI.AIISES THE NEW ENGLAND CONFEDERACY 159 the preponderance early acquired by New England in the history of the American people. In view of this, it is worth while to inquire what were the real aims of the settlers of New England. What was the common purpose which brought these men together in their resolve to create for themselves new homes in the wilderness ? This is a^ point concerning which there has been a great deal of popular misapprehension, and there has been no end of nonsense talked about it. It has been customary first to assume that the Puritan migration was under- ^j^g ^i„^. taken in the interests of religious liberty, and then t'on was to upbraid the Puritans for forgetting all about re- tended to ligious liberty as soon as people came among them what" ^ who disagreed with their opinions. But this view J^^igfous of the case is not supported by history. It is quite liberty true that the Puritans were chargeable with gross intoler- ance ; but it is not true that in this they were guilty of inconsistency. The notion that they came to New England for the purpose of establishing religious liberty, in any sense in which we should understand such a phrase, is entirely incorrect. It is neither more nor less than a bit of popular legend. If we mean by the phrase "religious liberty" a state of things in which opposite or contradictory opinions on questions of religion shall exist side by side in the same community, and in which everybody shall decide for himself how far he will conform to the customary religious observ- ances, nothing could have been further from their thoughts. There is nothing they would have regarded with more gen- uine abhorrence. If they could have been forewarned by a prophetic voice of the general freedom — or, as they would have termed it, license — of thought and behaviour which prevails in this country to-day, they would very likely have abandoned their enterprise in despair.^ The philosophic student of history often has occasion to see how God is wiser than man. In other words, he is often brought to realize how fortunate it is that the leaders in great historic 1 See the passionate exclamation of Endicott, below, p. 216. i6o THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND events cannot foresee the remote results of the labours to which they have zealously consecrated their lives. It is part of the irony of human destiny that the end we really accom- plish by striving with might and main is apt to be some-' thing quite different ■ from the end we dreamed of as we started on our arduous labour. So it was with the Puritan' settlers of N ew - England. The religious liberty that we enjoy to-day is largely the consequence of their work ; but it is a consequence that was unforeseen, while the direct and conscious aim of their labours was something that has never been realized, and probably never will be. The' aim of Winthrop and his friends in coming to Mas-- sachusetts was the construction of a theocratic state which should be to Christians, under the New Testament dispen- sation, all' that the theocracy of Moses and Joshua and' Samuel had been to the Jews in Old Testament ideal of the days. They should be to all intents and purposes freed from the jurisdiction of the Stuart king, and so far as possible the text of the Holy Scriptures should be their guide both in weighty matters of general legislation and in the shaping of the smallest details of daily life. In such a scheme there was no room for religious liberty as we understand it. ' No doubt the text of the Scriptures may be interpreted in many ways, but among these men there was a substantml agreement as to the important points, and nothing could have been further from their thoughts than to found a colony which should afford a field for new experi- ments in the art of right living. The state they were to found was to consist of a united body of believers ; citizen- ship itself was to be co-extensive with church-membership ; and in such a state there was apparently no more room for heretics than there was in Rome or Madrid. This was the idea which drew Winthrop and his followers from England at a time when — as events were soon to show ■ — they might have stayed there and defied persecution with , less trouble than it cost them to cross the ocean and found a new state. Such an ideal as this, considered by itself and apart from THE NEW ENGLAND CONFEDERACY i6i CRADOCK HOUSE, MEDFORD (CIR. 1634) the concrete acts in which it was historically manifested, may seem like the merest fanaticism. But we cannot dis- miss in this summary way a movement which has been at the source of so much that is great in American history : mere fanaticism has never produced such substantial results. Mere fanaticism is sure to aim at changing the constitution of human society in some essential point, to undo the work of evolution, and offer in some indistinctly apprehended fashion to remodel human life. But in these respects the Puritans were intensely conservative. The impulse by which they were animated was a profoundly ethical -j-^^^ ^^_ impulse — the desire to lead godly lives, and to p"ise which drive out sin from the community — the same realize it- ethical impulse which animates the glowing pages puritan of Hebrew poets and prophets, and which has given ^'^f e^Mcai to the history and literature of Israel their com- impulse manding influence in the world. The Greek, says Matthew i62 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND Arnold, held that the perfection of happiness was to have one's thoughts hit the mark ; but the Hebrew held that it was .to serve the Lord day and night. It was a touch of this inspiration that' the Puritan caught from his earnest and reverent study of the sacred text, and that served to justify and intensify his yearning for a better life, and to give it the character of a grand and holy ideal. Yet with all this religious enthusiasm, the Puritan was in every fibre a practical Englishman with his full share of plain com- mon-sense. He avoided the error of mediaeval anchorites and mystics in setting an exaggerated value upon other- worldliness. In his desire to win a crown of gl6ry hereafter he did not forget that the present life has its simple duties, in the exact performance of which the welfare of society mainly consists. He likewise avoided the error of modern radicals who would remodel the fundamental institutions of property and of the family, and thus disturb the very ground- work of our ethical ideals. The Puritan's ethical conception of society was simply that which has grown up in the natural course of historical evolution, and which in its essential points is therefore intelligible to all men, and approved by the common-sense of men, however various may be the ter- minology — whether theological or scientific — in which it is expounded. For these reasons there was nothing essen- tially fanatical or impracticable in the Puritan scheme : in substance it was something that great bodies of men could at once put into practice, while its quaint and peculiar form was something that could be easily and naturally outgrown and set aside. Yet another point in which the Puritan scheme of a theo- cratic society was rational and not fanatical was its method of interpreting the Scriptures. That method was preting essentially rationalistic in two ways. First, the fhe'puritan Puritan laid no claim to the possession of any appealed to peculiar inspiration or divine light whereby he might be aided in ascertaining the meaning of the sacred text ; but he used his reason just as he would in THE NEW ENGLAND CONFEDERACY 163 any matter of business, and he sought to convince, and ex- pected to be convinced, by rational argument, and by nothing else. Secondly, it followed from this denial of any peculiar inspiration that there was no room in the Puritan common- wealth for anything like a priestly class, and that every individual must hold his own opinions at his own personal risk. The consequences of this rationalistic spirit have been far-reaching. In the conviction that religious opinion must V^^^ p MINOT HOUSE IN DQRCHESTER, MASS. (1633-1640) be consonant with reason, and that religious truth must be brought home to each individual by rational argument, we may find one of the chief causes of that peculiarly conserva- tive yet flexible intelligence which has enabled the Puritan countries to take the lead in the civilized world of to-day. Free discussion of theological questions, when conducted with earnestness and reverence, and within certain generally acknowledged limits, was never discountenanced in New England. On the contrary, there has never been a society in the world in which theological problems have been so seriously and persistently discussed as in New England in the colonial period. The long sermons of the clergymen were usually learned and elaborate arguments of doctrinal points, bristling with quotations from the Bible, or from i64 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND famous books of controversial divinity, and in the long winter evenings the questions thus raised afforded the occa- sion for lively debate in every household. The clergy were, as a rule, men of learning, able to tead both Old and New Testaments in the original languages, and familiar with the best that had been talked and written, among Protestants at least, on theological subjects. They were also, for the most part, men of lofty character, and they were held in high social esteem on account of their character and scholarship, as well as on account of their clerical position. But in spite of the reverence in which they were commonly held, it would have been a thing quite unheard of for one of these pastors to urge an opinion from the pulpit on the sole ground of his personal authority or his superior knowledge of Scriptural exegesis. The hearers, too, were quick to detect novelties or variations in doctrine ; and while there was perhaps no more than the ordinary human unwillingness to listen to a new thought merely because of its newness, it was above all things needful that the orthodox soundness of every new suggestion should be thoroughly and severely tested. This intense interest in doctrinal theology was part and parcel of the whole theory of New England life ; be- cause, as I have said, it was taken for granted that each individual must hold his own opinions at his own personal risk in the world to come. Such perpetual discussion, conducted under such a stimu- vaiue of ^^^> afforded in itself no mean school of intellectual theological training. Viewed in relation to the subsequent discussion ^ mental activity of New England, it may be said to have occupied a position somewhat similar to that which the polemics of the mediaeval schoolmen occupied in relation to the European thought of the Renaissance, and of the age of Hobbes and Descartes. At the same time the Puritan the- ory of life lay at the bottom of the whole system of popular education in New England. According to that theory, it was absolutely essential that every one should be taught from early childhood how to read and understand the Bible. THE NEW ENGLAND CONFEDERACY 165 MEETING-HOUSE AT HINGHAM (1681) So much instruction as this was assumed to be a sacred duty which the community owed to every child born within its jurisdiction. In ignorance, the Puritans maintained, lay the principal strength of popery in religion as well as of despotism in politics ; and so, to the best of their lights, they cultivated knowledge with might and main. But in this energetic diffusion of knowledge they were unwittingly preparing the complete and irreparable destruction of the theocratic ideal of society which they had sought to realize by crossing the ocean and settling in New England. This universal education and this perpetual discussion of theologi- cal questions were no more compatible with rigid adherence i66 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND to the Calvinistic system than with submission to the abso- lute rule of Rome. The inevitable result was the liberaJ. and enlightened Protestantism which is characteristic of the best American society at the present day, and which is con- tinually growing more liberal as it grows more enlightened — a Protestantism which, in the natural course of develop- ment, is coming to realize the noble ideal of Roger Williams, but from the very thought of which such men as Winthrop and Cotton and Endicott would have shrunk with dismay. In this connection it is interesting to note the similarity between the experience of the Puritans in New England and in Scotland with respect to the influence of their reli- gious theory of life upon general education. Nowhere has Puritanism, with its keen intelligence and its iron tenacity of purpose, played a greater part than it has played in the history of Scotland. And one need not fear contradiction in saying that no other people in modern times, in proportion to their numbers, have achieved so much in all departments Compari- of human activity as the people of Scotland have theclse'of achieved. It would be superfluous to mention the Scotland preeminence of Scotland in the industrial arts since the days of James Watt, or to recount the glorious' names in philosophy, in history, in poetry and romance, and in every department of science, which since the middle of the eigh- teenth century have made the country of Burns and Scott, of Hume and Adam Smith, of Black and Hunter and Hutton and Lyell, illustrious for all future time. Now this period of magnificent intellectual fruition in Scotland was preceded by a period of Calvinistic orthodoxy quite as rigorous as that of New England. The ministers of the Scotch Kirk in the seventeenth century cherished a theocratic ideal of society not unlike that which the colonists of New England aimed at realizing. There was the same austerity, the same intol- erance, the same narrowness of interests, in Scotland that there was in New England. Mr. Buckle, in the book which forty years ago seemed so great and stimulating, gave us a graphic picture of this state of society, and the only thing THE NEW ENGLAND CONFEDERACY 167 which he could find to say about it, as the result of his elaborate survey, was that the spirit of the Scotch Kirk was as thoroughly hostile to human progress as the spirit of the Spanish Inquisition ! If this were really so, it would be difficult indeed to account for the period of brilliant mental activity which immediately followed. But in reality the Puritan theory of life led to general education in Scotland as it did in New England, and for precisely the same rea- sons, while the effects of theological discussion in breaking down the old Calvinistic exclusiveness have been illustrated in the history of Edinburgh as well as in the history of Boston. It is well for us to bear in mind the foregoing considera- tions as we deal with the history of the short-lived New England Confederacy. The story is full of instances of an intolerant and domineering spirit, especially on the part of Massachusetts, and now and then this spirit breaks forth in ugly acts of persecution. In considering these facts, it is well to remember that we are observing the workings of a system which contained within itself a curative principle ; and it is further interesting to observe how political circum- stances contributed to modify the Puritan ideal, gradually breaking down the old theocratic exclusiveness and strength- ening the spirit of religious liberty. Scarcely had the first New England colonies been estab- lished when it was found desirable to unite them into some kind of a confederation. It is worthy of note that the separate existence of so many colonies was at the outset largely the result of religious differences. The uniformity of purpose, great as it was, fell far short of completeness. Could all have agreed, or had there been religious Existence toleration in the modern sense, there was still room ll^°^^l'^^ enough for all in Massachusetts ; and a compact due to sliffht rcli" settlement would have been in much less danger gious dif- from the Indians. But in the founding of Connect- '«■■?""= icut the theocratic idea had less weight, and in the found- ing of New Haven it had more weight, than in Massachu- i68 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND setts. The existence of Rhode Island was based upon that principle of full toleration which the three colonies just mentioned alike abhorred, and its first settlers were people banished from Massachusetts. With regard to toleration Plymouth occupied a middle ground ; without admitting the principles of Williams, the people of that colony were still fairly tolerant in practice. Of the four towns of New Hamp- shire, two had been founded by Antinomians driven f-rom Boston, one by other Puritans, and one by Episcopal friends of Mason and Gorges. It was impossible that neighbouring communities, characterized by such differences of opinion, but otherwise homogeneous in race and in social condition, should fail to react upon one another and to liberalize one another. Still more was this true when they attempted to enter into a political union. When, for example, Massachu- setts in 1641-43 annexed the New Hampshire townships, she was of necessity obliged to relax in their case her policy of insisting upon religious conformity as a test of citizenship. So in forming the New England Confederacy, there were some matters of dispute that had to be passed over by mutual consent or connivance. The same causes which had spread the English settle- ments over so wide a territory now led, as an indirect result, to their partial union into a confederacy. The immediate consequence of the westward movement had been an Indian war. Several barbarous tribes were now interspersed be- tween the settlements, so that it became desirable that the It led to a military force should be brought, as far as possible, attempt at Under one management. The colony of New Neth- federation erland, morcover, had begun to assume importance, and the settlements west of the Connecticut river had already occasioned hard words between Dutch and English, which might at any moment be followed by blows. In the French colonies at the north, with their extensive Indian alliances under Jesuit guidance, the Puritans saw a rival power which was likely in course of time to prove troublesome. With a view to more efficient self-defence, therefore, in 1643 the THE NEW ENGLAND CONFEDERACY 169 four colonies of Massachusetts, Plymouth, Connecticut, and New Haven formed themselves into a league, under the style of "The United Colonies of New England." These four little states now contained thirty-nine towns, with an aggregate population of 24,000. To the northeast of Massa- chusetts, which now extended to the Piscataqua, a small colony had at length been constituted under a proprietary charter somewhat similar to that held by the Calverts in Ma,ryland. Of this new province or palatinate of Maine the FAIRBANKS HOUSE, DEDHAM (CIR. 1636) aged Sir Ferdinando Gorges was Lord Proprietary, and he had undertaken not only to establish the Church of England there, but also to introduce usages, of feudal jurisdiction like those remaining in the old country. Such a community was not likely to join the Confederacy; apart from other rea- sons, its proprietary constitution and the feud between the Puritans and Gorges would have been sufficient obstacles. As for Rhode Island, on the other hand, it was regarded 170 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND with strong dislike by the other colonies. It was a curious and noteworthy consequence of the circumstances under which this little state was founded, that for a long time it Turbulence became the refuge of all the fanatical and turbu- in Rhode ^^^* people who could not submit to the strict and Island orderly governments of Connecticut or Massachu- setts. All extremes met on Narragansett bay. There were not only sensible advocates of religious liberty, but theocrats as well who saw flaws in the theocracy of other Puritans. The English world was then in a state of theological fermen- tation. People who fancied themselves favoured with direct revelations from Heaven ; people who thought it right to keep the seventh day of the week as a Sabbath instead of' the first day; people who cherished a special predilection for the Apocalypse and the Book of Daniel ; people with; queer views about property and government ; people who advocated either too little marriage or too much marriage ; all such eccentric characters as are apt to come to the sur- face in periods of religious excitement found in Rhode Island a favoured spot where they could prophesy without let or hindrance. But the immediate practical result of so much discordance in opinion was the impossibility of founding a strong and well-ordered government. The early history of Rhode Island was marked by enough of turbulence to sug- gest the question whether, after all, at the bottom of the Puritan's refusal to recognize the doctrine of private inspira- tion, or to tolerate indiscriminately all sorts of opinions, there may not have been a grain of shrewd political sense not ill adapted to the social condition of the seventeenth century. In 1644 and again in 1648 the Narragansett set- tlers asked leave to join the Confederacy ; but the request was refused on the ground that they had no stable govern- ment of their own. They were offered the alternative of voluntary annexation either to Massachusetts or to Plymouth, or of staying out in the cold ; and they chose the latter course. Early in 1643 they had sent Roger Williams over to England to obtain a charter for Rhode Island. In that r d tii& ^"^ '^^ htWYHOLE # ^^ BOOKE OFPSALMES pH ' }*• TRANSLATED mto ENGLISH \ '^h- ' K^ UHetre, 2^'^ \^tf Wfiercunto is prefixed a difcourfede- ^v^ ■jTj^claring notoolychc lawfullnes, butalfopjUi ^f5 the neccffity of the heavenly Ordinance ^|«fi I 7I ^ of ficging scripture PWmes in r!^L \r)(j the Churches of ■eJ'^.2 ■^A^*», God. CAfSj i^'if-'j Letth'etvurdcfGoddtveSfleateouflyin ^fp, ; V>" y 01*, in all vet fdomeyte*chitt£ and exhort- r rr'j , • ' ;*'n *>'^ f?**^ amther inVfa/mes^ Htmnif, and ^\^, ^'f^ i}>^>ritft»ll^e»fs^pngingtothe Lordvfitb ^^| **i '■ ^i r fracc inltsur heUrts, , y^. f r-^,r3 Umts v. i^p ,-'*'f/'^ }fanjheKffllcttdJfthimf>ray\mdif 11,0^ ^plt^ft «»j bemerrj let bimf»gff0lmf$, ^k '> ^f?'^ «^4o QPi THE BAY PSALM BOOK, PRINTED IN CAMBHIDGE BY STEPHEN DAYE, THE FIRST PRINTER IN ENGLISH AMERICA 172 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND year Parliament created a Board of Commissioners, with the Earl of Warwick at its head, for the superin- of war^"^ tendence of colonial affairs ; and nothing could Ms'^Boafd better illustrate the loose and reckless manner in of Commis- which American questions were treated in England sioners ^ - ^ than the first proceedings of this board. It gave an early instance of British carelessness in matters of Ameri- can geography. In December, 1643, it granted to Massa- chusetts all the territory on the mainland of Narragansett bay ; and in the following March it incorporated the town- ships of Newport and Portsmouth, which stood on the island, together with Providence, which stood on the mainland, into an independent colony empowered to frame a government and make laws for itself. With this second document Williams returned to Providence in the autumn of 1644. Just how far it was intended to cancel the first one, nobody could tell, but it plainly afforded an occasion for a conflict of claims. The league of the four colonies is interesting as the first American experiment in federation. By the articles it was agreed that each colony should retain full independence so far as concerned the management of its internal affairs, but that the confederate government should have entire control over all dealings with the Indians or with foreign powers. Constitu- The administration of the league was put into the Confed-*^ hands of a board of eight Federal Commissioners, eracy ^^o from each colony. The commissioners were required to be church-members in good standing. They could choose for themselves a president or chairman out of their own number, but such a president was to have no more power than the other members of the Board. If any mea- sure were to come up concerning which the commissioners could not agree, it was to be referred for consideration to the legislatures or general courts of the four colonies. Ex- penses for war were to be charged to each colony in propor- tion to the number of males in each between sixteen years of age and sixty. A meeting of the Board might be sum- THE NEW ENGLAND CONFEDERACY 173 moned by any two magistrates whenever the public safety might seem to require it ; but a regular meeting was to be held once every year. In this scheme of confederacy all power of taxation was expressly left to the several colonies. The scheme provided for a mere league, not for a federal union. The it was only government of the Commissioners acted only upon not a^fed- the local governments, not upon individuals. The ^"^^ ""°° Board had thus but little executive power, and was hardly more than a consulting body. Another source of weakness in the confederacy was the overwhelming preponderance of Massachusetts. Of the 24,0(00 people in the confederation, 15,000 belonged to Massachusetts, while the other three, colonies had only about 3,000 each. Massachusetts accord- ingly had to carry the heaviest burden, both in the furnishing of soldiers and in the payment of war expenses, while in the direction of affairs she had no more authority than one of the small colonies. As a natural consequence, Massachu- setts tried to exert more authority than she was entitled to by the articles of confederation ; and such conduct was not unnaturally resented by the small colonies, as betokening an unfair and domineering spirit. In spite of these drawbacks, however, the league was of great value to New England. On many occasions it worked well as a high court of juris- diction, and it made the military strength of the colonies more available than it would otherwise have been. But for the interference of the British government, which brought it to an untimely end, the Confederacy might have been gradually amended so as to become enduring. After its downfall it was pleasantly remembered by the people of New England ; in times of trouble their thoughts reverted to it ; and the historian must in fairness assign it some share in preparing men's minds for the greater work of federation which was achieved before the end of the following century. The formation of such a confederacy certainly involved something very like a tacit assumption of sovereignty on the part of the four colonies. It is worthy of note that they did 174 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND not take the trouble to ask the permission of the home gov- jf3 ernment in advance. They did as they pleased, and formation then defended their action afterward. In England involved a . _ ° _ tacit as- the act of confederation was' regarded with jeal- ofTov-°" ousy and distrust. But Edward Winslow, who was ereignty ^^^^ ^^^^ ^^ London to defend the colonies, pithily said : " If we in America should forbear to unite for offence and defence against a common enemy till we have leave from England, our throats might be all cut before the. messenger would be half seas through." Whether such considerations would have had weight with Charles I. or not was now of little consequence. His power of making mischief soon came to an end, and from the liberal and sagacious policy of Cromwell the Confederacy had not much to fear. Never- theless the fall of Charles I. brought up for the first time that question which a century later was to acquire surpassing interest, — the question as to the supremacy of Parliament over the colonies. Down to this time the supreme control over colonial affairs had been in the hands of the king and his privy coun- cil, and the Parliament had not disputed it. In 1624 they had grumbled at James I.'s high-handed suppression of the Virginia Company, but they had not gone so far as to call in question the king's supreme authority over the colonies. In 1628, in a petition to Charles I. relating to the Bermudas, they had fully admitted this royal authority. But the fall of p^jj ^j Charles I. for the moment changed all this. Among Charles I. the royal powers devolved upon Parliament was the brings up . _ . , . theques- prerogative of supermtendmg the affairs of the supremacy colouies. Such, at least, was the theory held in ment over England, and it is not easy to see how any other the coio- theory could logically have been held ; but the Americans never formally admitted it, and in prac- tice they continued to behave toward Parliament very much as they had behaved toward the crown, yielding just as little obedience as possible. When the Earl of Warwick's com- missioners in 1644 seized upon a royalist vessel in Boston THE NEW, ENGLAND CONFEDERACY I7S SPENCER-PIERCE HOUSE, NEWBURY (CIR. 1650) harbour, the legislature of Massachusetts debated the ques- tion whether it was compatible with the dignity of the colony to permit such an act of sovereignty on the part of Parlia- ment. It was decided to wink at the proceeding, on account of the strong sympathy between Massachusetts and the Par- liament which was overthrowing the king. At the same time the legislature sent over to London a skilfully worded protest against any like exercise of power in future. In 165 1 Parliament ordered Massachusetts to surrender the charter obtained from Charles I. and take out a new one from , Parliament, in which the relations of the colony to the home government should be made the subject of fresh and more precise definition. To this request the colony for more than a year vouchsafed no answer ; and finally, when it be- came necessary to do something, instead of sending back the charteri the legislature sent back a memorial, setting forth that the people of Massachusetts were quite contented with their form of government, and hoped that no change would be made in it. War between England and Holland, and 176 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND the difficult political problems which beset the brief rule of Cromwell, prevented the question from coming to an issue, and Massachusetts was enabled to preserve her independent and somewhat haughty attitude. During the whole period of the Confederacy, however, disputes kept coming up which through endless crooked ramifications were apt to end in an appeal to the home gov- ernment, and thus raise again and again the question as to the extent of its imperial supremacy. For our present pur- pose, it is enough to mention three of these cases : i, the adventures of Samuel Gorton ; 2, the Presbyterian cabal ; 3, the persecution of the Quakers ; while in passing we shall find a strong side-light thrown upon the whole by the sum- mer visit of Dr. John Clarke and his friends to Swampscott. The first case shows, in a curious and instructive way, how religious dissensions were apt to be complicated with threats of an Indian war on the one hand and peril from Great Britain on the other ; and as we come to realize the triple danger, we can perhaps make some allowances for the high- handed measures with which the Puritan governments some- times sought to avert it. As I have elsewhere tried to show. Genesis of the genesis of the persecuting spirit is to be found cutins"^' in the conditions of primitive society, where " above sp™* all things the prime social and political necessity is social cohesion within the tribal limits, for unless such social cohesion be maintained, the very existence of the tribe is likely to be extinguished in bloodshed." The persecuting spirit " began to pass away after men had become organized into great nations, covering a vast extent of territory, and secured by their concentrated military strength against the gravest dangers of barbaric attack." ^ Now as regards these considerations, the Puritan communities in the New England wilderness were to some slight extent influenced by such conditions as used to prevail in primitive society ; and this will help us to -understand the treatment of the Antinomians arid such cases as that with which we have now to deal. ^ Excursions of an Evolutionist, pp. 250, 255. THE NEW ENGLAND CONFEDERACY 177 Among the companions of Mrs. Hutchinson, for a short time after her arrival at Aquedneck, was a sincere and cour- ageous, but incoherent and crotchetty man named samuei Samuel Gorton. In the denunciatory language of Gorton that day he was called a " proud and pestilent seducer," or, as the modern newspaper would say, a " crank." It is well to make due allowances for the prejudice so conspicuous in the accounts given by his enemies, who felt obliged to jus- tify their harsh treatment of him. But we have also his BRIDGHAM HOUSE, DORCHESTER (CIR. 1636) own writings from which to form an opinion as to his char- acter and views. Lucidity, indeed, was not one of his strong points as a writer, and the drift of his argument is not always easy to decipher ; but he seems to have had some points of contact with the Familists, a sect established in the sixteenth century in Holland. The Familists held that the essence of religion consists not in adherence to any 178 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND particular creed or ritual, but in cherishing the spirit of divine love. The general adoption of this point of view was to inaugurate a third dispensation, superior to those of Moses and Christ, the dispensation of the Holy Ghost. The value of the Bible lay not so much in the literal truth of its texts as in their spiritual import ; and by the union of believers with Christ they came to share in the ineffable perfection of the Godhead. There is much that is modern and enlightened in such views, which Gorton seems to some extent to have shared. He certainly set little store by ritual observances and maintained the equal right of laymen with clergymen to preach the gospel. Himself a London clothier, and thanking God that he had not been brought up in " the schools of human learning," he set up as a preacher without ordination, and styled himself "professor of the mysteries of Christ." ^ Some passages in his writings would lead one to suppose that he . cherished that doctrine of pri- vate inspiration which the Puritans especially abhorred. Yet he attacked the doctrifte of the " inner light," as it was held by the Quakers. An atmosphere of Unitarianism per- vades many of his arguments, and now and then we get a [ touch of pantheism. Perhaps he had not an entirely dis- tinct comprehension of his own views, for distinctness in, expression was surely what they lacked.^ But they were 1 Though a craftsman, he .was of gentle blood, no unusual thing in England at that time, and was addressed as " Mr." He seems to have been sufficiently learned to read the Old and New Testaments in the original tongues. 2 A glimmer of light upon Gorton may be got from reading the title- page of one of his books : " An Incorruptible Key, composed of the CX PsALME, wherewith you may open the Rest of the Holy Scrip- tures ; Turning itself only according to the Composure and Art of that Lock, of the Closure and Secresie of that great Mystery of God man- ifest in the Flesh, but justified only by the Spirit, which it evidently openeth and revealeth, out of Fall and Rfesurrection, Sin and Right- eousness, Ascension and Descension, Height and Depth, First and Last, Beginning and Ending, Flesh and Spirit, Wisdome and Foolish- nesse, Strength and Weakness, Mortality and Immortality, Jew and Gentile, Light and Darknesse, Unity and Multiplication, Fruitfulness THE NEW ENGLAND CONFEDERACY 179 such as in the seventeenth century could not fail to arouse fierce antagonism, and if it was true that wherever there was a government Gorton was against it, perhaps that only shows that wherever there was a government it was sure to be against him. In the case of such men as Gorton, however, — and the type is by no means an uncommon one, — their tempera- ment usually has much more to do with getting them into trouble than their opinions. Gorton's temperament was such as to keep him always in an atmosphere , of strife.^ Other heresiarchs suffered persecution in Massachusetts, but Gorton was in hot water everywhere. His troubles be- gan in 1638, in Plymouth, where one of his wife's servants, a Mrs. Aldredge, was tried for the dreadful crime of smiling and Barrenness, Curse and Blessing, Man and Woman, Kingdom and Priesthood, Heaven and Earth, Allsufficiency and Deficiency, God and Man. And out of every Unity made up of twaine, it openeth. that great two-leafed Gate, which is the sole Entrie into the City of God, of New Jerusalem, into which none but the King of glory can enter; and as that Porter openeth the Doore of the Sheepfold, by which who- soever entreth is the Shepheard of the Sheep; See Isa. 45. i. Psal. 24. 7, 8, 9, 10. John 10. I, 2, 3; Or, (according to the Signification of the Word translated Psalme,) it is a Pruning-Knife, to lop off from the Church of Christ all superfluous Twigs of earthly and carnal Com- mandments, Leviticall Services or Ministery, and fading and vanishing Priests, or Ministers, who are taken away and cease, and are not estab- lished and confirmed by Death, as holding no Correspondency with the princely Dignity, Office, and Ministry of our Melchisedek, who is the only Minister and Ministry of the Sanctuary, and of that true Taber- nacle which the Lord pitcht, and not Man. For it supplants the Old Man, and implants the New ; abrogates the Old Testament or Cove- nant, and confirms the New, unto a thousand Generations, or in Gen- erations forever. By Samuel Gorton, Gent., and at the time of penning hereof, in the Place of Judicature (upon Aquethneck, alias Road Island) of Providence Plantations in the Nanhyganset Bay, New England. Printed in the Yeere 1647." 1, At Plymouth "his conduct was most abusive and his language insulting to the Court." At Portsmouth he " contumeliously reproached the magistrates, calling them just asses [justices]," accused them of bribery and shook his fist at them in open court, etc. Arnold, History of Rhode Island, i. 166, 171. i8o THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND. in the meeting-house during service. Gorton had studied law enough to know its principles and methods. He denied the competency of the Plymouth magistrates to try persons for breaking laws of their own devising, and quite properly urged that the act of the defendant, though it might offend their theocratic notions, was not punishable by the common law of England. For this audacious protest Gorton was ordered to leave the colony within a fortnight. Thereupon he fled to Aquedneck, where his first achieve- „ ^ , ment was a schism among Mrs. Hutchinson's fol- He flees to ■ r i i Aquedneck lowcrs, whlch ended in some staymg to found the .banished town of Portsmouth while others went away to thence found Ncwport. Presently Portsmouth found him intolerable and banished him, and after his departure was able to make up its quarrel with Newport. He next made his way with a few followers to Pawtuxet, within the juris- diction of Providence, and now it is the broad-minded and gentle Roger Williams who complains of his "bewitching and madding poor Providence." The question is here sug- gested. What could it have been in Gorton's teaching that enabled him thus to " bewitch " these little communities ? We may be sure that it could not have been the element of modern liberalism suggested in the Familistic doctrines above cited. That was the feature then least likely to appeal to the minds of common people, and most likely to appeal to Williams. More probably such success as Gorton had in winning followers was due to some of the mystical rubbish which abounds in his pages and finds in a modern mind no doorway through which to enter. Another point, however, quite unconnected with abstruse questions of theology, was involved. In most of the serious disputes in which Gorton was concerned, he maintained that colonial society in America must rest upon the unshakable foundations of the English common law and not upon flimsy theories of what society ought to be like. He also insisted that the surest guarantee of American liberties was to be furnished by charters explicitly sanctioned by the home government. In these conservative views Gorton showed THE NEW ENGLAND CONFEDERACY i8i rare political sagacity. Upon these views both Connecticut and the Narragansett settlements — though Roger Williams did not at first feel the need of it — came ultimately to act. Of their great importance, in the development of American liberty along constitutional lines, there can be no doubt.^ Though Williams more or less disapproved of Gorton, he was true to his own principles of toleration and would not take part in any attempt to silence him. But in 1641 we find thirteen leading citizens of Providence, headed by Wil- liam Arnold,^ sending a memorial to Boston, asking for assistance and counsel in regard to this disturber of the peace. How was Massachusetts to treat such an appeal .■■ She could not presume to meddle with the affair „ .^ ■^ ^ ^ Providence unless she could have permanent jurisdiction over protests Pawtuxet ; otherwise she was a mere intruder. How strong a side-light does this little incident throw upon the history of the Roman republic, and of all relatively strong communities when confronted with the problem of preserving order in neighbouring states that are too weak to preserve it for themselves ! Arnold's argument, in his appeal to Massachusetts, was precisely the same as that by which the latter colony excused ^ ^^ /^ herself for banishing the Antino- ^» Wnjte/L -Xffiri^fL,^ mians. He simply says that Gor- %J ton and his company " are not fit persons to be received, and made members of a body in so weak a state as our town is in at present ; " and he adds, " There is no state but in the first place will seek to preserve its own safety and peace." What- ever might be the abstract merits of Gorton's opinions, his conduct was held to be politically dangerous; and accord- 1 This point has been well brought out by Dr. Lewis Janes, in his Samuell Gorton : a Forgotten Founder of otir Liberties, Providence, 1896, a book which contains many valuable suggestions. ^ Father of Benedict Arnold, afterward governor of Rhode Island, and owner of the stone windmill (apparently copied from one in Ches- terton, Warwickshire) which was formerly supposed by some antiqua- rians to be'a vestige of the Northmen. Governor Benedict Arnold was great-grandfather of the traitor. i82 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND ingly the jurisdiction over Pawtuxet was formally conceded to Massachusetts. Thereupon that colony, assuming juris- diction, summoned Gorton and his men to Boston, to prove their title to the lands they occupied.- They of course re- garded the summons as a flagrant usurpation of authority, and instead of obeying it they withdrew to Sha- shawomet, womct, on the western shore of Narragansett bay, buvTiand where they bought a tract of land from the princi- °f '^^ pal sachem of the Narragansetts, Miantonomo. The immediate rule over this land belonged to two inferior chiefs, who ratified the sale at the time, but six months afterward disavowed the ratification, on the ground that it had been given under duress from their overlord Miantonomo. Here was a state of things which might easily bring on an Indian war. The two chiefs appealed to Massachusetts for protection, and were accordingly sum- moned, along with Miantonomo, to a hearing at Boston. Here we see how a kind of English protectorate over the native tribes had begun to grow up so soon after the destruc- tion of the Pe- JT quots. Such . ^ Ql a result was in- arguments, the legislature decided to defend the two inferior chiefs, pro- vided they would put themselves under the jurisdiction of Massachusetts. This was done, while further complaints against Gorton came from the citizens of Providence. Gor- ton and his men were now peremptorily summoned to Boston to show cause why they should not surrender their land at Shawomet and to answer the charges against them. On receiving from Gorton a defiant reply, couched in terms which some thought blasphemous,^ the government of Mas- sachusetts prepared to use force. 1 The ingenious Boston ministers discovered at least six-and-twenty instances of flat " blasphemy " in poor Gorton's letter ! THE NEW ENGLAND CONFEDERACY 183 Meanwhile the unfortunate Miantonomo had rushed upon his doom. The annihilation of the Pequots had left the Mohegans and Narragansetts contending for the foremost place among the native tribes. Between the rival sachems, Uncas and Miantonomo, the hatred was deep and deadly. As soon as the Mohegan perceived that trouble was brewing between Miantonomo and the government at Boston, he im- proved the occasion by gathering a few Narragansett. scalps. Miantonomo now took the war-path and was totally defeated by Uncas in a battle on the Great Plain in the present town- ship of Norwich. Encumbered with a coat of mail which his friend Gorton had given him, Miantonomo was overtaken and captured. By ordinary Indian usage he would have been put to death with fiendish torments, as mo and T_Jnc&s soon as due preparations could be made and a fit company assembled to gloat over his agony ; but Gorton sent a messenger to Uncas, threatening dire vengeance if harm were done to his ally. This message puzzled the Mo- hegan chief. The appearance of a schism in the English counsels was more than he could quite fathom. When the affair had somewhat more fully developed itself, some of the Indians spoke of the white men as divided into two rival tribes,, the Gortonoges and Wattaconoges.^ Roger Williams tells us that the latter term, applied to the men of Boston, meant coat-wearers. Whether it is to be inferred that the Gortonoges went about in what modern parlance would be called their " shirt-sleeves," the reader must decide.^ In his perplexity Uncas took his prisoner to Hartford, and afterward, upon the advice of the governor and council, sent him to Boston, that his fate might be determined by the Federal Commissioners, who were there holding their first regular meeting. It was now the turn of the commissioners to be perplexed. According to English law there was no 1 Gorton, Simplicitie's Defence agamst Seven-headed Policy, p. 88. ^ I see that my bit of pleasantry here has proved unsuccessful ; for my good friend Dr. Janes seems to understand me as raising the ques- tion in sober earnest! See his Samuell Gorton, p. 57, note. i84 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND good reason for putting Miantonomo to death. The question was whether they should interfere with the Indian custom by which his life was already forfeit to his captor. The magistrates already suspected the Narragansetts of cherish- ing hostile designs. To set their sachem at liberty, espe- cially while the Gorton affair remained unsettled, might be dangerous ; and it would be likely to alienate Uncas from the English. In their embarrassment the commissioners sought spiritual guidance. A synod of forty or iifty clergymen, from all parts of New England, was in session at Boston, and the question was referred to a committee of five of their Q;rtca^ < NEW-ENGLi#JE): OR • •■ ; • ■:■ ■ .,.;■■•;,»•/■ That Servant fo Imperious in his MaflersAbfence Revived, ^^nd now thus fe-ading in New-En gland. - OR ■ Tliecombate of the. United Colonies, not onely againft fomeofclje Natives and Sub/eifts.buc againft the Authority alfo oftheKingJaie tA'Bmlmi, with ili$r executioh of Laws, ^in the name and Attdioritjf of the fefvant, Cor of dl^nifclVcs) and not in the Name and ^ ; : ; Aufliotity of the LoidjOrltHlntaiBof the GoverniHent. Wherdnis.declartdan Aiafif?i|leac people and Country of the Indium in thofe parcs.both Princes and People CunanimoadyJ in their.voluntary Subiniflioil and Subie(5lion unto the Proteftion and Government of Old Esi^lani^ flora the Fame they hear thereof) toge- tUetwith the true manner anJ to^ebf it, as kappcars under their own . haiids and feals, being fcij-red up, and provoked thereto, hy the Combats and courfes above-faid. Throughout which Treacift is fecretly intermingled, that great Oppofition,which,is in the goings forth of thofe two grand Spirits, that are, and ever have been, extant in the World ' (through the fsns of mcn^ from the beginning and foundation thereof. frnprim^tuf, e^»f>i^. 16^6. Diligently petuled, approvedyand . Jjicenfed to the ^.reffe, according to Order by publifec Aiitho itv. '■ .^ .^.^.^ — 1 -. « — -« ^ 1 — ! ■ LONDO N,-* Printed by yfl^« /^<»<^««'4' and are to be fold' by Luke Favvne, athis ihop in Pauls churchyard, at the fign of the Var/ut. i tf 4 ff. iiiiiiimuijitmm TM-'T'rr rTfrrrmr » ■ TITLE OF GORTON'S MOST FAMOUS BOOK l^ NEPV-ENGLANDS f Caft up at i LONDON:! O R, ; A R E L A T I o N of the Proceedings of J the Court at Bojlon in Nerv-England againft di- A vers honeft and godly perfon-Sjfor Petitioning for Go- vernmcnc in the Common-weaIth,according to the Lawes of EngLiiid-, and for admittance of themfelres and children » CO the Sacraments in their Churchesj and in cafe that iTiould not be granted , for leave to have Minifkrs and Church- govern- i ment according to the beft i Reformation of F.-,-.- , glitnd:inA Scot land. , Together with a Confutation of fomc Reports of a fained Miracle upon the forefaid Petition, being thrown over-board at Sea; As aUo a breif Anfwer to fome ■ paflages in a late Book(entitulcd HypocHfic unm.isked), fee cue by Mr. v/infliivt, lOncciiiing the Inde- pendent Cliurches holding ccuiimunian with I he Re fotir.ed Churches, By Major John Child. W Lo}:dor., Vi'mttiiot T,R. mA E.M. 1647. ^A child's attack upon winslow THE NEW ENGLAND CONFEDERACY 191 the world had lately taken it into his head to come and see what sort of a place Massachusetts was. Although these names were therefore not such as to lend weight to such a petition, their request would seem at first sight reasonable enough. At a superficial glance it seems conceived in a modern spirit of liberalism. In reality it was nothing of the sort. In England it was just the critical moinent of the struggle between Presbyterians and Independents which had come in to complicate the issues of the great civil war. Vassall, Child, and Maverick seem to have been the leading spirits in a cabal for the establishment of Presbyterianism in New England, and in their petition they simply took advan- tage of the discontent of the disfranchised citizens in Mas- sachusetts in order to put in an entering wedge. This was thoroughly understood by the legislature: of Massachusetts, and accordingly the petition was dismissed and the petition- ers were roundly fined. Just as Child was about to start for England with his grievances, the magistrates overhauled his papers and discovered a petition to the parliamentary , Board of Commissioners, suggesting . that Presbyterianism should be established in New England, and that a, viceroy or governor-general should be appointed to rule there., To the men of Massachusetts this last suggestion was a crown- ing horror. It seemed scarcely less than treason. The signers of this petition were the same who had signed the petition to the General Court. They were now fined still more heavily and imprisoned for six months. By and by they found their way, one after another, to London, while the colonists sent Edward Winslow, of Plymouth,' as an ad- vocate to thwart their schemes. Winslow was assailed by Child's brother in a spicy pamphlet entitled "New England's Jonas cast up at London," and replied after: the same sort, entitling his pamphlet " New England's Salamander discov- ered." The cabal accomplished nothing because of the decisive defeat of Presbyterianism in England. "Pride's Purge " settled all that. The petition of Vassall and his friends was the occasion 192 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND for the meeting of a synod of churches at Cambridge, in order to complete the organization of Congregationalism. In 1648 the work of the synod was embodied in the famous Cambridge Platform, which adopted the Westmin- Cambridge stcr Confcssion as its creed, carefully defined the powers of the clergy, and declared it to be the duty of magistrates to suppress heresy. In 1649 the Gen- eral Court laid this platform before the congregations ; in 165 1 it was adopted; and this event may be regarded as completing the theocratic organization of the Puritan com- monwealth in Massachusetts. It was immediately followed by a case of persecution pure and simple. The story of the visit of three Baptist gentlemen to Swampscott, in the summer of 165 1, leads us into no such complications of motive as the stories of Anne Hutchinson, of Samuel Gor- ton, and of Robert Child. The persecution of Dr. John Clarke illustrates nothing but the noxious effect upon nar- row minds and hardened hearts of the theocratic endeavour to make Massachusetts a strictly orthodox community. John Clarke, one of the worthiest and most Mgh-minded among the founders of New England, was born in Suffolk in i6og. It is not known where he obtained his excellent education ; but he was esteemed a learned physician and good classical scholar, while it is clear that he could read his Old Testament familiarly in Hebrew, for he was the Dr. John author of a manuscript concordance and lexicon to Clarke ^]^g same. He seems to have become a Baptist before his arrival in Boston, in 1637, in the heat of the Antinomian controversy. Not liking the peculiar fragrance of the ecclesiastical atmosphere into which he had come, he went to Aquedneck and took part with William Codding- ton and Anne Hutchinson in establishing the colony of Rhode Island. In 1639 ^ Baptist church was founded at Newport, and Dr. Clarke was for many years its teacher. His ser- vices to the commonwealth were so great that history must place him by the side of Roger Williams. What Williams was for the mainland colony, that was Clarke for the colony ^h^M>^^JkfMk^^ PLATFORM OF CHURCH DISCIPLINE (jATHERED OVT OF THE WORD OF GOD: -t^T^'D yiCikEET) VPON BT THE ELDERS: AND MESSENGERS OF THE CHUR.CHES ASSfciiBl-tt) IN THE SYNOD AT CAMbMDuh To be pretented to the Churches and Geiierall Court for their confider.u.on and acceptance, in the Lord. The Eight Moneth Anno 1^49 cv^ Piil: Z7. , Ilovf AmUb'.e are thy lAbermdcsO Lurdof thfis ? ^j>i I Lord I h.i'je loyed.'K n.ionMiin of ihy h).ij'e iS the J*J ptAce^Wj^re thne hjtimr dvf^lUth , *^ One :kng h-ive I defired fj i/jj.Li, d rh-ti ;r;// / ^c^^ e^j afle , hut i m^f dir-'l in ihe honfe if ike Lrrd all I be ^^j ^. f.i oj my lifrr) beh'jtdihi; ii^.mii oj the L9idiy ti *-i^ iiitjuiit m hii TcmpL « <^j Printed hy S Cj .at (^.imhridge in T^nv € upland ^. v and are to be fold at Cjmt>---uhr and 'B.'JaH tSSj ^■imu Djih: I (J 4. 9 . ^^! -», ^ Tin; LAMURIUGE PI.ATFORJI ■* y »ll» - .8jio. Ight tc do thy vtiUO ny Gci,yci thy Ltm is within my heart : (vii-) I delight to do thy wiUj or Law, as a Mediator. I b-i-'-'c not hid thy riehtcoufnclJc withinmy hart, T hi~jc declared thy fjiihfulxcjj'c , n-.td thy f.:lx:i!io)i: Namely,! have not hid thy rightcoiifncfli, or thy way of mal MoxoTi, and arc to be Ibid at j[i tilt blue Anchor in Corn. hili necr the Koyall i:\changc. 1650. '• »' \\■|I.LI.\^f l'\NCHI)N S UnKETlCAL I;<1()K, WHICH WAS liL'RNEl* IN THE MARKET- I'l.ACI'l IN JtOSTON, HY ORIJEli Ot-' THE GENEKAL fOURT THE NEW ENGLAND CONFEDERACY 195 upon the island, its leading spirit in all that was noblest and best. Upright and capable in all the relations of life, he never failed of the courtesy and dignity that mark the perfect gentleman. In 1644 the General Court of Massachusetts passed an act banishing from the colony all persons who should either openly or privately oppose the baptism of infants. Ban- -ishment, however, did not always occur. Thomas Painter, of Hingham, for refusing to have his child bap- tized, was savagely whipped. William Witter was against , . . , „ . 1 . . . , Baptists twice arraigned tor expressing his opinion on such subjects, but he was not banished, and in the summer of 165 1 we find him living quietly at Swampscott. Being nearly seventy years of age, blind and otherwise infirm, so that he could not make the journey to Newport in quest of spiritual consolation, he "requested an interview with some of the brethren " ; in other words, he asked that some of the brethren might come and visit him. In response to this appeal Dr. Clarke;, with two compan- ions, undertook the journey to Swampscott. One of these friends was John Crandall, a deputy or representative from Newport in the General Court of Rhode Island, The other was Rev. Obadiah Holmes, born of a respectable family at Preston in Lancashire and educated at Oxford. He had lately been pastor of a church at Seekonk, in the Plymouth colony, where there had been " thirteene or fower- obadiaii teen persons rebaptized " ; an incident which called Holmes forth an energetic protest from Massachusetts. The Bos- ton magistrates declared themselves in danger "from the infection of such diseases, being so near," and they expressed a hope that the danger might be averted. They looked upon Baptists as moral lepers, unfit to associate with their fellow men. Similar views were entertained in Plymouth, for Holmes was presented by the grand jury of that colony for " holding a disorderly meeting " [i. e., a meeting of dis- believers in infant baptism] on the Lord's day. But the mild rebuke which Plymouth deemed sufficient for the 196 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND emergency was far from satisfactory to the sterner temper of Massachusetts. Under these circumstances it required courage for Holmes to show himself in the neighbourhood ^>Cc r^Lr^ of Boston. It was a brave Christian act and fraught with some peril. On Saturday evening, July 19, 1651, the three Baptist worthies arrived in Swampscott and passed the night at the house of the venerable Witter. On Sunday morning, "not having freedom in our Spirits for want of a clear Call from THE NEW ENGLAND CONFEDERACY 197 God to goe unto the Publick Assembly " — which was at Lynn, two or three miles away — Dr. Clarke and his friends held a service at Witter's house. Four or five men from the neighbourhood, came in and listened, perhaps from mere curiosity ; but presently two constables entered with a war- rant for the arrest of the visitors from Rhode . ■ , Arrest of Island. Dr. Clarke, with his wonted urbanity, in- the Bap- ' tists at vited the officers to stay and hear the service com- Swamp- pleted, but they grimly retorted by haling him ^™" and his friends off to the village ale-house for safe keeping. In the afternoon, said the constables, they should be made to go to the meeting-house at Lynn. Nay, quoth the doc- tor : " If thou forcest us into your assembly, then shall we be constrained to declare ourselves that we cannot enter into communion with them." He was as good as his word. To characterize his conduct in church as rudeness would be to show oneself wanting in the historical spirit which understands a vanished age. Just as it was a matter of conscience with the magistrate to drag these Baptists into the meeting-house, it was a matter of conscience with the Baptists to make some public sign of disapproval. Their demeanour was quiet, for they were gentlemen and not brawlers.- On entering the church they raised their hats, bowed politely to minister and congregation, then sat down and put on their hats. Dr. Clarke took a book from his pocket and- "fell to reading," while the three offending hats were removed by the constables. When service was over Clarke asked and obtained permission to speak to the con- gregation, but after a few words he was silenced and taken, with his friends, to the tavern. Next morning the three were committed to the jail in Boston and kept there till July 31, when they were brought before the General Court for trial. The spirit of the pro- ceedings was like that which was shown in the trial of Bunyan's Faithful at Vanity Fair. Governor Endicott ac- cused the prisoners of being Anabaptists, which gave Dr. Clarke a chance for a little Greek pleasantry; he assured ipS THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND the governor that he was "neither an Anabaptist, nor a Pasdobaptist, nor a Catabaptist." ^ He admitted that he had baptized grown-up persons who had been in their baby- Triai of the hood taken to church and had water sprinkled on Baptists their foreheads ; but since such early wetting was in no true sense baptism, he could not be accused of re- baptizing. But this ingenious logic did not avail him or his friends. They were sentenced with varying degrees of severity/ each to pay a fine or in ,default of payment to be "well whipt." Crandall was the least important of the three victims, and his fine was only ;£s- Clarke's fine was ;£20 and that of Holmes was £,T)0.^ When sentence had been pronounced Dr. Clarke asked if he might be allowed to see the law by which he had been judged. Then Endicott, in a towering passion, " broke forth and told me I had deserved death, and said he would not have such trash brought into their jurisdiction : moreover, he ' said, you go up and down, and secretly insinuate into those that are weak ; but you cannot maintain it before our Ministers : you may try and discourse or dispute with them." Clarke was eager to accept this challenge, but was imme- diately hurried away to jail. Holmes, on hearing his sen- tence, exclaimed, " I bless G6d I am counted worthy to suffer for the name of Jesus " ; whereupon the Rev. John Wilson, quite overcome with rage, struck him and shouted, " The curse of Jesus go with thee ! " ' In other words, neither a rebaptizer, nor a baptizer of babes, nor a reviler of baptism. The epithet " Catabaptist " was sometimes applied to Baptists in opprobrium, but " Anabaptist " was preferred, because Anabaptists were apt to be " unsound " on the doctrine of tlie Trinity, so that the use of the name made it easy to abuse Baptists /br opinions which they did not hold. This Icind of misrepresentation is always in- expressibly dear to the theological hater. The jingle of Dr. Clarke's statement reminds one of Carlyle's gruff reply to some inquisitive crea- ture who wished to know if he was a pantheist : " No, I am neither a pan-theist nor a pot-theist ! " ^ In our modern gold money these fines were equivalent to $125, $500, and $750. THE NEW ENGLAND CONFEDERACY 199 From prison Dr. Clarke sent forth a letter next day, challenging the ministers to a public discussion of the ques- tion as to baptism, and asking that a time and place be appointed. The General Court shuffled and quibbled in the matter. A rumour got abroad that the discussion was to be held at Cambridge on Commencement Day, August 1 2, and that John Cotton was to be Clarke's antagonist. But on August 1 1 Clarke was released from jail, inasmuch as some friends without his consent had paid his fine. He renewed his challenge, but the magistrates refused to allow any public discussion, and so the baffled and insulted doctor returned to breathe the free air of Newport. Crandall's fine was also paid by friends, but Holmes posi- tively refused to accept any such deliverance, and he used arguments which prevailed with his friends. He urged that payment of the fine would look like a confession that he was in the wrong ; a great principle was treatment at stake, and he preferred to take the consequences of refusal. The magistrates also seem to have been unwill- ing to accept payment in this case. They wished to make an example of Holmes, who had been let off so lightly by Plymouth. The punishment meted out to him was thirty lashes, the same as the penalty for rape, adultery, and coun- terfeiting. On a September day this good man was stripped and tied to the post. What followed may be told in his own words : — " In truth, as the stroaks fell upon me, I had such a spir- ituall manifestation of God's presence as the like thereto I never had, nor felt, nor can with fleshly tongue expresse ; and the outward pain waS' so removed from me, that in- deed I am not able to declare it to you ; it was so easy to me that I could well bear it, yea, and in a manner felt it not, although it was grievous ; as the Spectators said, the Man striking with all his strength (yea, spitting on his hands three times, as many affirmed) with a three-coarded whip, giving me therewith thirty stroaks. When he had loosed me from the Post, having joyfulnesse in my heart and cheer- 200 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND fulness in my countenance, as the Spectators observed, I told the Magistrates — You have struck me as with Roses ; and said, moreover. Although the Lord hath made it easy to me, yet I pray it may not be laid to your charge." It was a brutal affair. We are told that for some weeks afterward "Mr. Holmes could take no rest but as he lay upon his knees and elbows, not being able to suffer any part of his body to touch the bed whereon he lay." Several by- standers, for speaking' compassionately to the bleeding victim as he came away from the whipping-post, were arrested, and two were fined. This outrage drew forth from Roger Williams, in a letter to Endicott, sonie of his pithy and memorable sayings : " Sir, I must be humbly bold to say 't is impossible for any man or men to maintain their Christ by their sword, and to wor- ship a true Christ ! to fight against all consciences opposite theirs, and not to fight against God in some of them." One of the most eminent of the early magistrates of the Massa- chusetts colony, Sir Richard Saltonstall, who was then in England, wrote a letter severely reproving the Boston minis- ters : " We hoped the Lord would have given you so much light and love there, that you might have been eyes to God's people here, and not to practise those courses in a wilderness which you went so far to prevent." ^ ^ Our most trustworthy source of information as to this affair is Dr. Clarke's /// Newes frojn New England, London, 1653. The best mod- ern account is H. M. King, A Sum?ner Visit of Three Rhode Islanders to the Massachusetts Bay in fdji, Providence, 1896. Mr. King makes short work of the attempts of Palfrey and Dexter to extenuate the con- duct of Massachusetts. Dr. Palfrey fancied that the visit to Brother Witter concealed a deep-laid political scheme on the part of Clarke. Coddington was entertaining plans which might have brought Rhode Island more or less under the jurisdiction of Massachusetts. Dr. Pal- frey's suggestion is that Clarke went to Swampscott in order to court persecution and thus fire the hearts of the Rhode Island Baptists to resist Coddington's plans. Dexter follows Palfrey. As this theory is purely a priori, unsupported by a scrap of evidence, it is hardly worthy of such excellent scholars. Why should it be thought necessary to slur over the faults of one's own state or one's own ancestors ? If Dr. Pal- THE NEW ENGLAXU CONFEDERACY ^^^(^A The persecution of these Baptist visitors occurred, as al- ready observed, in the same year which witnessed the adop- tion of the Cambridge Platform, an event which we cited as frey's theory of the case could be established, the conduct of the Mas- sachusetts-authorities would appear not a whit less odious, and it would seem very stupid withal, since it would be playing into Clarke's hand. 202 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND completing the theocratic organization of the Puritan com- monwealth in Massachusetts. It was immediately preceded and followed by the deaths of the two foremost men in that commonwealth. John Winthrop died in 1649 and John Cotton in 1652. Both were men of extraordinary power. Of Winthrop it is enough to say that under his skilful guid- ance Massachusetts had been able to pursue the daring policy which characterized the first twenty years of her his- tory, and which in weaker hands would almost surely have ended in disaster. Of Cotton it may be said that Deaths of . . Winthrop , he was m some respects the most emment among and Cotton ^ gj-Qup of clergymen who for learning and dialec- tical skill have seldom been surpassed. Neither Winthrop nor Cotton approved of toleratioa upon principle. Cotton, in his elaborate controversy with Roger Williams, frankly asserted that persecution is not wrong in itself ; it is wicked for falsehood to persecute truth, but it is the sacred duty of truth to persecute falsehood. This was the theologian's view. Winthrop's was that of a man of affairs. They had come to New England, he said, in order to make a society after their own model ; all who agreed with them might come and join that society ; those .who disagreed with them might go elsewhere ; there was room enough on the American con- tinent. But while neither Winthrop nor Cotton understood the principle of religious liberty, at the same time neither of them had the temperament which persecutes. Both were men of genial disposition, sound common-sense, and exquisite tact. Under their guidance no such tragedy would have been possible as that which was about to leave its inefface- able stain upon the annals of Massachusetts. It was most unfortunate that at this moment the places of these two men should have been taken by two as arrant fanatics as ever drew breath. For thirteen out of the fifteen Endicott years following Winthrop's death, the governor of take'^hr°" Massachusetts was John Endicott, a sturdy pio- ^^^'^ neer, whose services to the colony had been great. He was honest and conscientious, but passionate, domineer- ,-• -.'^ ^:t' FRAG.M ENT OF A LETTER FROM OLIVER CROMWELL TO JOHN COTTON L )■■ ':^ , myUA^"^ L SUPERSCRIPTION OF CROMWELL'S LETTER THE NEW ENGLAND CONFEDERACY 205 ing, and very deficient in tact. At the same time Cotton's successor in position and influence was John Norton, a man of pungent wit, unyielding temper, and melancholy mood. He was possessed by a morbid fear of Satan, whose hirelings he thought were walking up and down over the earth in the visible semblance of heretics and schismatics. Under such leaders the bigotry latent in the Puritan commonwealth might easily break out in acts of deadly persecution. The occasion was not long in coming. Already the preach- ing of George Fox had borne fruit, and the .noble sect of Quakers was an object of scorn and loathing to all such as had not gone so far as they toward learning the true lesson of Protestantism. Of all Protestant sects the Quakers went furthest in stripping off from Christianity its non-essential features of doctrine and ceremonial. Their ideal The was not a theocracy but a separation between ^'^j'^hS church and state. They would abolish all distinc- '''^"'^ tion between clergy and laity, and could not be coaxed or bul- lied into paying tithes. They also refused to render. military service, or to take the oath of allegiance. In these ways they came at once into antagonism both with church and with state. In doctrine their chief peculiarity was the asser- tion of an " Inward Light " by which every individual is to be guided in his conduct of life. They did not believe that men ceased to be divinely inspired when the apostolic ages came to an end, but held that at all times and places the human soul may be enlightened by direct communion with its Heavenly Father. Such views involved the most abso- lute assertion of the right of private judgment ; and when it is added that in th^ exercise of this right many Quakers were found to reject the dogmas of original sin and the resurrection of the body, to doubt the efficacy of baptism, and to call in question the propriety of Christians turning the Ldrd's Day into a Jewish Sabbath, we see that they had in some respects gone far on the road toward modern ration- alism. It was not to be expected that such opinions .should be treated by the Puritans in any other spirit than one of 2o6 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND extreme abhorrence and dread. The doctrine of the " In- ward Light," or of private inspiration, was something espe- cially hateful to the Puritan. To the modern rationalist, looking at things in the dry light of history, it may seem that this doctrine was only the Puritan's own appeal to individual judgment, stated in different form ; but the Puri- tan could not so regard it. To such a fanatic as Norton this inward light was but a reflection from the glare of the bottomless pit, this private inspiration was the beguiling voice of the Devil. As it led the Quakers to strange and novel conclusions, this inward light seemed to array itself in hostility to that final court of appeal for all good Protest- ants, the sacred text of the Bible. The Quakers were accordingly regarded -as infidels who "Jo At\ jCtrf/xtn. sought to deprive Protestantism of its only firm support. They were wrongly accused of blasphemy in their treatment of the Scriptures. Cotton Mather says that the Quakers were in the habit of alluding to the Bible as the Word of the Devil. Such charges, from passionate and uncritical enemies, are worth- less except as they serve to explain the bitter prejudice with which the Quakers were regarded. They remind one of the silly accusation brought against Wyclif two centuries earlier, that he taught his disciples that God ought to obey the Devil ; ^ and they are not altogether unlike the assump- tions of some modern theologians who take it for granted that any writer who accepts the Darwinian theory must be a materialist. But worthless as Mather's statements are, in describing the views of the Quakers, they are valuable as indicating the temper in which these disturbers of the Puritan theo- cracy were regarded. In accusing them of rejecting the Bible and making a law unto themselves, Mather simply put on record a general belief which he shared. Nor can it be doubted that the demeanour of the Quaker enthusiasts was sometimes such as to seem to warrant the belief that ^ Milman, Latin Christianity, vii. 390. THE NEW ENGLAND CONFEDERACY 207 their anarchical doctrines entailed, as a natural consequence, disorderly and disreputable conduct. In those days violent all manifestations of dissent were apt to be vio- "ons rf'^' lent, and the persecution which they encountered "^'s^^"* was likely to call forth strange and unseemly vagaries. When we remember how the Quakers, in their scorn of earthly magistrates and princes, would hoot at the gov- ernor as he walked up the street ; how they used to rush into church on Sundays and interrupt the sermon with untimely remarks ; how Thomas Newhouse once came into the old First Meeting-House with a glass bottle in each hand, and, holding them up before the astonished congregation, knocked them together and smashed them, with the remark, " Thus will the Lord break you all in pieces " ; how Lydia Ward well and Deborah Wilson ran about the streets in the primitive costume of Eve before the fall, and called their conduct "testifying before the Lord" ; ^ we can hardly wonder that people should have been reminded of the wretched scenes enacted at Miinster by the Anabaptists of the preceding century. ' Similar instances occurred now and then in England. " One thing extraordinary was, this day a man, a Quaker, came naked through the [Westminster] Hall, only very civilly tied about the loins to avoid scan- dal, and with a chafing-dish of fire and brimstone burning upon his head, did pass through the Hall, crying, 'Repent! repent!'" — Pepys' Diary, July 29, 1667. Cf. DeFoe's History of the Plague of London, p. 26. As for Thomas Newhouse, his reputation as a disturber seems to have been widespread, if he is the person mentioned in the Records of Lower Norfolk County, Virginia, in August and October, 1683: '■ Whereas W" porten hath Represented to this Court that hee hath been Informed that One Thomas newhouse (beefore a Certane number of people that mett upon fryday last att the house of Gilbert Lewes to heere him Speake) did declare Severall words In derogation of the bible amounting to blasphemy It is therefore ordered that the Shrff take the sd newhouse Into his Custody and him Safely deteyne till hee Enter Into bond w"" good Security to ans' what shall bee objected ag' him in that behalf att the next Court." The entry of October 15 finds the charge " sufitiently prouved," and puts " the sd newhouse " under bonds to appear before the General Court for trial. See William and Mary College Quarterly, ii. 178, 179. 2o8 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND Such incidents, however, do not afford the slightest excuse for the cruel treatment which the Quakers received in Boston, nor do they go far toward explaining it. Persecu- tion began immediately, just as in the case of Dr. Clarke and his friends, before the new-comers had a chance to behave themselves well or ill. Their mere coming to Bos- tonv was taken as an act of invasion. It was indeed an attack upon the Puritan theocratic idea. Of all the sectaries of that age of sects, the Quakers were the most -^;^^^^^ ^£//4«,^<, m aggressive. There were ' ^ ^ ^-txf'»^ynfs * x at one time more than four thousand of them in English jails ; ^ yet when any of them left England, it was less to escape such persecution than to preach their doctrines far and wide over the earth. Their missionaries found their way to Paris, to Vienna ; even to Rome, where they testified under the very roof of the Vatican. In this dauntless spirit they came to New Eng- land to convert its inhabitants, or at any rate to establish the principle that in whatever community it might please them to stay, there they would stay in spite of judge or hangman. At first they came to Barbadoes, whence two Anne of their number, Anne Austin and Mary Fisher, Austin and g^|jg^ j^^. Bogtojj When they landed, on a May Fisher moming in 1656, Endicott happened to be away from Boston, but the. deputy-governor, Richard Bellingham, was equal to the occasion. He arrested the two women and locked them up in jail,' where, for fear they might proclaim their heresies to the crowd gathered outside, the windows were boarded up. There was no law as yet enacted against Quakers, but a council summoned for the occasion pro- nounced their doctrines blasphemous and devilish. The books which the poor women had with them were seized and publicly burned, and tl^e women themselves were kept in ^ A large number of these prisoners, perhaps the majority, were charged with contempt of coiirt for refusing to take an oath, wearing their hats before the magistrates, etc. I hiow thy works , ir THE NEW ENGLAND CONFEDERACY 223 been commonly known in New England for more than a year. For these reasons the wrath of the king was specially roused against New Haven, when circumstances combined to enable him at once to punish this disloyal colony and deal a blow at the Confederacy. We have seen that in restricting the suffrage to church members New Haven had followed the example of Massa- chusetts, but Connecticut had not ; and at this time there was warm controversy between the two younger ^^^, colonies as to the wisdom of such a policy. As ^aven '^ -' annexed yet none of the colonies save Massachusetts had to Con- obtained a charter, and Connecticut was naturally anxious to obtain one. Whether through a complaisant spirit connected with this desire, or through mere accident, Connecticut had been prompt in acknowledging the restora- tion of Charles H. ; and in August, 1661, she dispatched the younger Winthrop to England to apply for a charter. Win- throp was a man of winning address and wide culture. His scientific tastes were a passport to the favour of the king at a time when the Royal Society was being founded, of which Winthrop himself was - A , soon chosen a fellow. In every *pftlyt^ SD/flCHJtflLr* way the occasion was an aus- (Jt^OiAf picious one. The king looked 1} ^ land Confederacy with unfriendly eyes. Massachusetts was as yet the only member of the league that was really troublesome ; and there seemed to be no easier way to weaken her than to raise up a rival power by her side, and extend to it such priv- ileges as might awaken her jealousy. All the more would many. He came to New England four years afterward, and joined his two friends at Hadley February 10, 1655. Some years later he re- moved to New Haven, where he continued to dwell, under the name of James Davids, until his death in 1689. Palfrey says the British gov- ernment never traced 'him to America. See Stiles's History of the Three Judges, Hartford, 1794. 224 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND such a policy be likely to succeed if accompanied by mea- sures of which Massachusetts must necessarily disapprove, and the suppression of New Haven would be such a measure. In accordance with these views, a charter of great liber- ality was at once granted to Connecticut, and by the same instrument the colony of New Haven was deprived of its separate existence and annexed to its stronger neighbour. As if to emphasize the motives which had led to this display of royal favour toward Connecticut, an equally liberal char- ter was granted to Rhode Island. In the summer of 1664 Charles II. sent a couple of ships-of-war to Boston harbour, with 400 troops under command of Colonel Richard Nich- ols, who had been appointed, along with Samuel Maverick v^ ^^ and two others as royal commissioners, to look after the affairs of the New World. Colonel Nichols took his ships to New Amsterdam, and captured that important town. Af- ter his return the commissioners held meetings at Boston, and for a time the Massachusetts charter seemed in danger. But the Puritan magistrates were shrewd, and months were frittered away to no purpose. Presently the Dutch made war upon England, and the king felt it to be unwise to irri- tate the people of Massachusetts beyond endurance. The turbulent state of English politics which followed still fur- THE NEW ENGLAND CONFEDERACY 225 ther absorbed his attention, and New England had another respite of several years. In New Haven a party had grown up which was dissatis- fied with its extreme theocratic policy and approved of the union with Connecticut. Davenport and his followers, the founders of the colony, were beyond measure disgusted. They spurned "the Christless rule" of the sister colony. Many of them took advantage of the recent conquest of New Netherland, and a strong party, led by the Founding Rev. Abraham Pierson, of Branford, migrated to °fN^™* the banks of the Passaic in June, 1667, and laid the founda- tions of Newark. For some years to come the theocratic idea that had given birth to New Haven continued to live on in New Jersey. As for Mr. Davenport, he went to Bos- ton and ended his days there. Cotton Mather, writing at a later date, when the theocratic scheme of the early settlers had been manifestly outgrown and superseded, says of Dav- enport : " Yet, after all, the Lord gave him to see that in this world a Church-State was impossible, whereinto there enters nothing which defiles." The theocratic policy, alike in New Haven and in Massa- chusetts, broke down largely through its inherent weakness. It divided the community, and created among the Breaking people a party adverse to its arrogance and exclu- a^crati?^ siveness. This state of things facilitated the sup- po''<=y pression of New Haven by royal edict, and it made possible the victory of Wenlock Christison in Massachusetts. We can now see the fundamental explanation of the deadly 226 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND hostility with which Endicott and his party regarded the Quakers. The latter aimed a fatal blow at the very root of the idea which had brought the Puritans to New England. Once admit these heretics as citizens, or even as tolerated sojourners, and,therewas an end of the theocratic state con- sisting of a united body of believers. It was a life-and-death struggle, in which no quarter was given ; and the Quakers, aided by popular discontent with the theocracy, even more than by the intervention of the crown, won a decisive victory. As the work of planting New England took place chiefly in the eleven years 1629-1640, during which Charles I. . contrived to reign without a parliament, so the of the Con- prospcrous period of the New England Confeder- acy, 1643-1664, covers the time of the Civil War and the Commonwealth, and just laps on to the reign of Charles II. By the summary extinction of the separate existence of one of its members for the benefit of another, its vigour was sadly impaired. But its constitution was revised so as to make it a league of three states instead of four ; and the Federal Commissioners kept on holding their meetings, though less frequently, until the revocation of the Massachusetts charter in 1684. During this period a great Indian war occurred, in the course of which this concentra- tion of the military strength of New England, imperfect as it was, proved itself very useful. In the history of New England, from the restoration of the Stuarts until their final ^ expulsion, the two most important facts are the military struggle of the "newly founded states with the Indians, and their constitutional struggle against the British government. The troubles and dangers of 1636 were renewed on a much more formidable scale, but the strength of the people had waxed greatly in the mean time, and the new perils were boldly overcome or skilfully warded off ; not, however, un- til the constitution of Massachusetts had been violently wrenched out of shape in the struggle, and seeds of conflict sown which in the following century were to bear fruit in the American Revolution. ti< V < w c » £S 5 ** s " C St w» ©u^* ^ S ** rt c fa c c c t i •I a« - — ■» o S S **^ ±i '^ <* ^ 5 ^ 1*^ S5= s S **^ ^ '^ <* ^ - 5 £i S -S i e c: £ S *n iT & ° ^ " «> 2 2 c= — »>M'»i i " (CS ° C 1= y c B «:i = " -?-r 2J o trf r « M '^ (^ U# ;^S -- ■"s. rt " <* • 5 rt iS » ^ o -^ -zs „ ^ - U-. " 5 o C5 ** O ♦- glO E in 3 '^ Sii^»— • ij '- *^ '^ C "i "^^ '^ O ^ "^^S «*{ e>a> O pf»^ ^ 1^*. ri.. V 5^ J? ^« ^ ^ - g w T O Q 5 O ^ = ° S f*-^ *= S o S c **^ — -^ ** a >-> ' •* O w !_«Sj»«' *^ CHAPTER V KING Philip's war For eight-and-thirty years after the destruction of the Pequots, the intercourse between the English and the In- dians was to all outward appearance friendly. The policy pursued by the settlers was in the main well considered. While they had shown that they could strike with terrible force when blows were needed, their treatment of the natives in time of peace seems to have been generally just puntans and kind. Except in the single case of the con- and Indians quered Pequot territory, they scrupulously paid for every rood of ground on which they settled, and so far as possible they extended to the Indians the protection of the law. On these points we have the explicit testimony of Josiah Wins- low, governor of Plymouth, in his report to the Federal Commissioners in May, 1676 ; and what he says about Plymouth seems to have been equally true of the other colonies. Says Winslow, " I think I can clearly say that before these present troubles broke out, the English did not possess one foot of land in this colony but what was fairly obtained by honest purchase of the Indian proprietors. Nay, because some of our people are of a covetous disposition, and the Indians are in their straits easily prevailed with to part with their lands, we first made a law that none should pur- chase or receive of gift any land of the Indians without the knowledge and allowance of our Court. . . . And if at any time they have brought complaints before us, they have had justice impartial and speedy, so that our own people have frequently complained that we erred on the other hand in showing them overmuch favour." The general laws of Massachusetts and Connecticut as well as of Plymouth bear 228 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND out what Winslow says, and show us that as a matter of policy the colonial governments were fully sensible of the importance of avoiding all occasions for quarrel with their savage neighbours. There can, moreover, be little doubt that the material comfort of the Indians was for a time considerably improved by their dealings with the white men. Hitherto their want of foresight and thrift had been wont to involve them during the long winters in a dreadful struggle with famine. Now the settlers were ready to pay liberally for the skin of every Trade with fur-covercd animal the red men could catch ; and the Indians where the trade thus arising did not suffice to keep off famine, instances of genferous charity were frequent. The Algonquin tribes of New England lived chiefly by hunting, but partly by agriculture. They raised beans and corn, and succotash was a dish which they contributed to the white man's table. They could now raise or buy Eng- lish vegetables, while from dogs and horses, pigs and poul- try, oxen and sheep, little as they could avail themselves of such useful animals, they nevertheless derived some benefit.^ Better blankets and better knives were brought within their reach ; and in spite of all the colonial governments could do to prevent it, they were to some extent enabled to supply themselves with muskets and rum. Besides all this trade, which, except in the article of liquor, tended to improve the condition of the native tribes, there was on the part of the earlier settlers an earnest and dili- gent effort to convert them to Christianity and give them Missionary the rudiments of a civilized education. Missionary Tho'mas work was bcguu in 1643 by Thomas Mayhew on Mayhew ^^.g islands of Nautucket and Martha's Vineyard. The savages at first declared they were not so silly as to barter thirty-seven tutelar deities for one, but after much preaching and many pow-wows Mayhew succeeded in per- suading them that the Deity of the white man was mightier than all their manitous. Whether they ever got much 1 Palfrey, History of New England, iii. 138-140. KING PHILIP'S WAR 229 further than this toward a comprehension of the white man's religion may be doubted ; but they were prevailed upon to let their children learn to read and write, and even to set up little courts, in which justice was administered according to some of the simplest rules of English law, and from which there lay an appeal to the court of Plymouth. In 1646 Massachusetts enacted that the elders of the churches should choose two persons each year to go and spread the gospel among the Indians. In 1649 Parliament established the Society for propagating the Gospel in New England, and presently from voluntary contributions the society was able to dispose of an annual income of ;£2000. Schools were set up in which agriculture was taught as well as religion. It was even intended that Indians should go to Harvard Col- lege, and a building was erected for their accommodation, but as none came to occupy it, the college printing-press was presently set to work there. One solitary Indian student afterward succeeded in climbing to the bachelor's degree, — Caleb Cheeshahteaumuck of the class of 1665. It was this one success that was marvellous, not the failure of the scheme, which vividly shows how difficult it was for the white man of that day to understand the limitations of the red man. The greatest measure of success in converting the Indians was attained by that famous linguist and preacher, the apostle John Eliot. This remarkable man was a ,. graduate of Jesus College, Cambridge. He had come to Massachusetts in 163 1, and in the following year had been settled as teacher in the church at Roxbury of which Thomas Welde was pastor. He had been distin- guished at the -university for philological scholarship and for linguistic talent, — two things not always found in connec- tion, — and now during fourteen years he devoted such time as he could to acquiring a complete mastery of the Algon- quin dialect spoken by the Indians of Massachusetts bay. To the modern comparative philologist his work is of great value. He published not only an excellent Indian grammar. 230 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND but a complete translation of the Bible into the Massachu- setts language, — a monument of prodigious labour. It is one of the most instructive documents in existence for the student of Algonquin speech, though the Massachusetts tribe and its language have long been extinct, and there are very few scholars living who can read the book.^ It has become one of the curiosities of literature and at auction sales of private libraries commands an extremely high price. Yet out of the diction of this- rare book the American public has within the last few years contrived to pick up a word which we shall very likely continue to hear for some time to come. In Eliot's Bible, the word which means a great chief — such as Joshua, or Gideon, or Joab — is " mugwump." ^ It was in 1646 that Eliot began his missionary preaching at a small Indian village near Watertown. President Dun- ster, of Harvard College, and Mr. Shepard, the minister at Cambridge, felt a warm interest in the undertaking. These 1 It is partially intelligible, however, to some Algonquin tribes now in existence, such as the Ojibways. In such a passage, for example, as the following (Matthew v. 1-3) — Nauont moochequshaoh, ogquodchuau wadchuut, kah na matapit, ukkodnetuh ta^- neuraoh peyaudnuk. Kah woshwunum wuttoon, ukkuhkootomauuh noowau. WunninumSog kodtummungeteahoncheg, a newutche wuttaih^cu kesukque ketassoota- mdonk. the general meaning and nearly all the words individually are readily understood by scholars familiar with the Ojibway ; and the passage, when read aloud, is intelligible to the Indians. See Proceedings of the ■American Antiquarian Society, N. S. ix. 314-319. 2 This word has always remained in local use along some parts of the coasts of Massachusetts and Connecticut, with the sense of " a per- son of importance," or otherwise, " a man who does not think small beer of himself." In the Tippecanoe Log-Cabin Songster, a collection of campaign ballads published in 1840, a certain Democratic candidate for county commissioner in Illinois was called " the great Mugwump." The word was used at least once that year in a newspaper editorial ; it appeared in 1872 in the Indianapolis Sentinel, and again in the New York Swn, March 23, 1884. When applied to the Independent Repub- licans who supported Cleveland against Blaine, it happened to hit the popular fancy and came at once into general use. «•« '- ^ so. OS «s «S «6 «c •OS *>s ■•< ••s •>s •OS ■OS •OS •>s •OS •OS •>s •>s ■K •OS «6 •OS •OS *>s ••« «s •OS «s •OS ••s •*s •OS W U S K u WUTTESTAMENTUM N U L-L O R D U M U N JESUS CHRIST Nuppoquohwuffuaencfimun, .4^ ^l ^4i^-/ * _*Jr*A4 CAMBRIDGE: Ffinted by Samuel green and iJMiirm.*duke Jtlmfon^ MDCLXI. •OS •OS •OS •OS ••s •»s ->s TITLE OF ELIOT'S ALGONQUIN VERSION OF THE NEW TESTAMENT S«B 9» S«»| SO* &•» S0» so- »•• s«» SOB »•• s«> s«» s«> S0» so- so* s«» SOB s» s» so» Sfl» S» so* I 'SOB ! so* s«» SO" so* »«* so. s» s«* s«* s» s» so* S«B S» i so* S«i KING PHILIP'S WAR 233 worthy men seriously believed that the aborigines of Amer- ica were the degenerate descendants of the ten lost tribes of Israel, and from this strange backsliding it was hoped that they might now be reclaimed. With rare eloquence and skill did Eliot devote himself to the difficult work of reaching the Indian's scanty intelligence and still scantier moral sense. His ministrations reached from the sands of Cape Cod to the rocky hillsides of Brookfield. But he soon fouiid that single-handed he could achieve but little over ,,.„ " Villages of so Wide an area, and accordingly he adopted the Christian policy of colonizing his converts in village commu- nities near the English towns, where they might be seques- tered from their heathen brethren and subjected to none but Christian influences. In these communities he hoped to train up native missionaries who might thence go and labour among the wild tribes until the whole lump of barbarism should be leavened. In pursuance of this scheme a stock- aded village was built at Natick in 1651. Under the direc- tion of an English carpenter the Indians built log-houses for themselves, and most of them adopted the English dress. Their, simple government was administered by tithing-men, or "rulers of tens^" chosen after methods prescribed in the book of Exodus. Other such communities were formed in the neighbourhoods of Concord and Grafton. By 1674 the number of these "praying Indians," as they were called, was estimated at 4000, of whom about 1500 were in Eliot's vil- lages, as many more in Martha's Vineyard, 300 in Nan- tucket, and 700 in the Plymouth colony. There seems to be no doubt that these Indians were really benefited both materially and morally by the change in their life. In the- ology it is not likely that they reached any higher view than that expressed by the Connecticut sachem Wequash, who "seeing and beholding the mighty power of God in the English forces, how they fell upon the Pequots, . . . from that time was convinced and persuaded that our God was a most dreadful God ; " accordingly, says the author of " New England's First Fruits," "he became thoroughly reformed 234 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND according to his light." Matters of outward observance, too, the Indians could understand ; for we read of one of them rebuking an Englishman "for profaning the Lord's Day by felling of a tree." The Indian's notions of religion were probably confined within this narrow compass ; the notions of some people that call themselves civilized perhaps do not extend much further. From such facts as those above cited we may infer that the early relations of the Puritan settlers to the Algonquin tribes of New England were by no means like the relations between white men and red men in recent times on our western plains. During Philip's War, as we shall see, the Puritan theory of the situation was entirely changed and our forefathers began to act in accordance with the frontiers- man's doctrine that the good Indians are dead Indians. But down to that time it is clear that his intention was to deal honourably and gently with his tawny neighbour. We some- times hear the justice and kindness of the Quakers in Penn- sylvania alleged as an adequate reason for the success with which they kept clear of an Indian war. This explanation, however, does not seem to be adequate ; it does not appear that, on the whole, the Puritans were less just and kind than the Quakers in their treatment of the red men. The true explanation is rather to be found in the relations between the Indian tribes toward the close of the seventeenth cen- tury. Early in that century the Pennsylvania region had been in the hands of the ferocious and powerful syivania"" Susquehannocks, but in 1672, after a frightful rnmoiestel Struggle of twenty years, this great tribe was swept by the In- from the face of the earth by the resistless league mans . -' ° of the Five Nations. When the Quakers came to Pennsylvania in 1682, the only Indians in that neighbourhood were the Delawares, who had just been terribly beaten by the Five Nations and forced into a treaty by which they submitted to be called " women," and to surrender their tomahawks. Penn's famous treaty was made with the- Dela- wares as occupants of the land and also with the Iroquois KING PHILIP'S WAR 23s league as overlords.^ Now the great central fact of early - American history, so far as the relations between white men and red men are concerned, is the unshaken friendship of the Iroquois for the English. This was the natural conse- quence of the deadly hostility between the Iroquois and the French which began with Champlain's defeat of the Mo- hawks in 1609. During the seventy-three years which inter- vened between the founding of Pennsylvania and the defeat of Braddock there was never a moment when the Delawares could have attacked the Quakers without incurring the wrath and vengeance of their overlords the Five Nations. This was the reason why Pennsylvania was Ifeft so long in quiet. No better proof could be desired than the fact that in Pon- tiac's war, after the overthrow of the French and when Indian politics had changed, no state suf- fered so much as Penn- sylvania from the hor- rors of Indian warfare. In New England at the time of Philip's War, the situation was very different from what it was between the Hud- son and the Susquehan- na. The settlers were thrown into immediate relations with several tribes whose mutual hos- tility and rivalry was such that it was simply impossible to keep on good terms with all at once. Such complicated questions as that which involved the English in responsibility for the fate of Miantonomo did not arise in Pennsylvania. Since the destruction of the Pequots we have observed the Narragansetts and Mohegans contending for 1 See Parkman, Consjiiracy of Pontiac, i. 80-85. CHAIR BELONGING TO ELIOT 236 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND the foremost place among New England tribes. Of the two rivals the Mohegans were the weaker, and therefore courted the friendship of the formidable palefaces. The English had .„ , no desire to take part in these barbarous feuds, but Difficulty ^ „ , . of the situ- they could not treat the Mohegans well without m- Ne™Eng- curring the hostility of the Narragansetts. For '*""* thirty years the feeling of the latter tribe toward the English had been very unfriendly and would doubtless have vented itself in murder but for their recollection of the fate of the Pequots. After the loss of their chief Mianto- nomo their attitude became so sullen and defiant that the Federal Commissioners, in order to be in readiness for an outbreak, collected a force of 300 men. At the first news of these preparations the Narragansetts, overcome with ter- ror, sent a liberal tribute of wampum to Boston, and were fain to conclude a treaty in which they promised to behave themselves well in the future. It was impossible that this sort of English protectorate over the native tribes, which was an inevitable result of the situation, should be other than irksome and irritating to the Indians. They could not but see that the white man stood there as master, and even in the absence of provoca- tion, this fact alone must have made them hate him. It is difficult, moreover, for the civilized man and the savage to understand each other. As a rule the one does not know what the other is thinking about. When Mr. Hamilton Gushing a few years ago took some of his Zuni friends into a hotel in Chicago, they marvelled at his entering It IS hard . , , . , ,. , , for the sav- such a mighty palace with so little ceremony, and cmH^ed * their wonder was heightened at the promptness dSstand"" ^^^ which "slaves" came running at his beck and one an- call ; but all at once, on seeing an American eagle ' over one of the doorways, they felt that the mys- tery was solved. Evidently this palace was the communal dwelling of the Eagle Clan of palefaces, and evidently Mr. Cushing was a great sachem of this clan, and as such enti- tled to lordly sway there ! The Zunis are not savages, but 1 fc nn C.U. oi KING PHILIP'S WAR 237 representatives of a remote and primitive phase of what Mr.. Morgan calls the middle status of barbarism. The gulf between their thinking and that of white men is wide be- cause there is a wide gulf between the experience of the two. This illustration may help us to understand an instance in which the Indians of New England must inevitably have misinterpreted the actions of the white settlers and read them in the light of their uneasy fears and prejudices. I refer to the work of the apostle Eliot. His design in founding his villages of Christian Indians was in the highest degree benevolent and noble; but the heathen Indians could hardly be expected to see anything in it but a cunning scheme for destroying them. Eliot's converts were for the most part from the Massachusetts tribe, the smallest and weakest of all. The Plymouth converts came chiefly from the tribe next in weakness, the Pokanokets or Wampanoags. The more powerful tribes — Narragansetts, Nipmucks, and Mohegans — furnished very few converts. When they saw the white intruders gathering members 6f the weaker tribes into villages of English type, and teaching them strange gods while clothing them in strange garments, they prob- ably supposed that the palefaces were simply adopting these Indians into their white tribe as a signs mis- means of increasing their military strength. At any rate, such a proceeding would be perfectly intelligible to the savage mind, whereas the nature of Eliot's design lay quite beyond its ken. As the Indians recovered from their supernatural dread of the English, and began to regard them as using, human means to accomplish their ends, they must of course interpret their conduct in such light as sav- age experience could afford. It is one of the commonest things in the world for a savage tribe to absorb weak neigh- bours by adoption, and thus increase its force preparatory to a deadly assault upon other neighbours. When Eliot in 1657 preached to the little tribe of Podunks near Hartford, and asked them if they were willing to accept of Jesus 238 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND Christ as their saviour, their old men scornfully answered No ! they had parted with most of their land, but they were not going to become the white man's servants. A rebuke administered to Eliot by Uncas in 1674 has a similar im- plication. When the apostle was preaching one evening in a village over which that sachem claimed jurisdiction, an Indian arose and. announced himself as a deputy of Uncas. Then he said, " Uncas is not well pleased that the English should pass over Mohegan river to call his Indians to pray to God." 1 .Thus, no matter how benevolent the white man's inten- tions, he could not fail to be dreaded by the Indians as a powerful and ever encroaching enemy. Even in his efforts It is re- to keep the peace and prevent tribes from taking Sat'peace ^^ war-path without his permission, he was inter- shouid fering. with the red man's cherished pastime of have been *^ > ■*■ so long murder and pillage. The appeals to the court at Plymouth, the frequent summoning of sachems tp Boston, to explain their affairs and justify themselves against accusers, must have been maddening in their effects upon the Indian ; for there is one sound instinct which the savage has in common with the most progressive races, and that is the love of self-government that resents all outside interfer- ence. All things considered, it is remarkable that peace should have been maintained in New England from 1637 to 1675 ; and probably nothing short of the consuming ven- geance wrought upon the Pequots could have done it. But with the lapse of time the wholesome feeling of dread began to fade away, and as the Indians came to use musket instead of bow and arrow, their fear of the English grew less, until at length their ferocious temper broke forth in an epidemic of fire and slaughter that laid waste the land. Massasoit, chief sachem of the Wampanoags and stead- fast ally of the Plymouth colonists, died in 1660, leaving two sons, Wamsutta and Metacom, or as the English nicknamed them, Alexander and Philip. Alexander succeeded to his ^ De Forest, History of the Indians of Connecticut, pp. 252, 257. PHIfJ"P. KING ofMomiiHopc. fe I? FANCIFUL PORTRAIT OF KING PHILIP BY PAUL REVERE 240 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND father's position of savage dignity and influence, but his Deaths of reign was brief. Rumours came to Plymouth that ^d^Aki- ^^ ^^^ plotting mischief, and he was accordingly aniniK(j^^lc^cK m. 252 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND Straight ahead and snatches victory from the jaws of death. His fortress was a strong one, and it was no longer, as in the time of the Pequots, a strife in which firearms were pitted against bow and arrow. Many of the Narragansetts we're equipped with muskets and skilled in their use, and under such circumstances victory for the English was not to be lightly won. On the night of December 18 their little army slept in an open iield at Petty quamscott without other blanket than a " moist fleece of snow," while near them smoked the ruins of Jireh Bull's garrison house, which the Indians had burned a few days before. Thence to the swamp fortress the dis- tance was about seven miles as the crow flies, but no roads led thither. The morrow was a Sunday, but Winslow deemed ^^^^uiof A. f 1 it imprudent to wait, as food *^ ^ Ji^y^*^fi*-' had wellnigh given out. Get- ting up at five o'clock, these kinsmen of Oliver's Ironsides toiled through deep snow, following the high ground in a dubious and wandering course which doubled the length of the march, so that it was past noon when they came within sight of the Narragansett stronghold. First came the 527 men from Massachusetts, led by Major Samuel Appleton, of Ipswich, and next the 158 from Plymouth, under Major Wil- liam Bradford ; while Major Robert Treat, with the 300 from Connecticut, brought up the rear. There were 985 men in all. As the Massachusetts men rushed upon the slippery storming bridge a deadly volley from the blockhouse slew six of the great of their captaius, while of the rank and file there swamp for- tress, De- were many killed or wounded. Nothing daunted, cem er 19 ^j^^^ presscd ou with great spirit till they forced their way into the enclosure, but then the head of their col- umn, overcome by sheer weight of numbers in the hand-to- hand fight, was pushed and tumbled out into the swamp. Meanwhile some of the Connecticut men had discovered a path across the partly frozen swamp leading to a weak spot in the rear, where the palisades were thin and few, as undue KING PHILIP'S WAR 253 reliance had been placed upon the steep bank crowned with a thick rampart of bushes that had been reinforced with clods of turf. In this direction Treat swept along with his' men in a spirited charge. Before they had reached the spot a heavy fire began mowing them down, but with a furious rush they came up, and climbing on each other's. shoulders, some fought their way over the rampart, while others hacked STORMING OF THE NARRAGANSETT FORT Sturdily with axes till such a breach was made that all might enter. This was effected just as the Massachusetts men had recovered themselves and crossed the treacherous log in a second charge that was successful and soon brought the entire English force within the enclosure. In the slaughter which filled the rest of that Sunday afternoon till the sun went down behind a dull gray cloud, the grim and wrathful Puritan, as he swung his heavy cutlass, thought of Saul and Agag, and spared not. The Lord had delivered up to him the heathen as stubble to his sword. As usual the number of the slain is variously estimated. Of the In- dians probably not less than 1000 perished. Some hun- dreds, however, with Canonchet their leader, saved them- selves in flight, well screened by the blinding snowflakes that began to fall just after sunset. Within the fortified area had been stored the greater part of the Indians' winter supply of corn, and the loss of this food was a further deadly 254 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND blow. Captain Church advised sparing the wigwams and using them for shelter, but Winslow doubted the ability of his men to maintain themselves in a position so remote from all support. The wigwams with their tubs of corn were burned, and a retreat was ordered. Through snowdrifts that deepened every moment the weary soldiers dragged themselves along, probably over Rose and McSparran hills,' and thence northward by the Pequot trail, until two hours after midnight, when they reached Smith's garrison house, near the hamlet of Wickford. Nearly one fourth of their number had been killed or wounded, and many of the latter perished before shelter was reached. Forty of these were buried at Wickford in the course of the next three days. Of the Connecticut men eighty were left upon the swamp and in the breach at the rear of the stronghold. Among the spoils which the victors brought away were a number of good muskets that had been captured by the Nipmucks in their assault upon Deerfield. This headlong overthrow of the Narragansett power completely changed the face of things. The question was no longer whether the red men could possibly succeed in making New England too hot for the white men, but simply how long it would take for the white men to exterminate the red men. The shiftless Indian was abandoning his squalid Effect of agriculture and subsisting on the pillage of English the blow farms ; but the resources of the colonies, though severely taxed, were by no means exhausted. The dusky warriors slaughtered in the great swamp fight could not be replaced ; bvit, as Roger Williams told the Indians, there were still ten thousand white men who could carry muskets, and should all these be slain, he added, with a touch of hyperbole, the Great Father in England could send ten thousand more. For the moment Williams seems to have cherished a hope that his great influence with the savages might induce them to submit to terms of peace while there was yet a remnant to be saved ; but they were now as little inclined to parley as tigers brought to bay, nor was the KING PHILIP'S WAR 255 temper of the colonists a whit less deadly, though it did not vent itself in inflicting" torture or in merely wanton orgies of cruelty. To the modern these scenes of carnage are painful to contemplate. In the wholesale destruction of the Pequots, and to a less degree in that of the Narragansetts, the death- dealing power of the white man stands forth so terrible and relentless that our sympathy is for a moment called out for his victim. The feeling of tenderness toward the weak, almost unknown among savages, is one of the finest pro- ducts of civilization. Where murderous emotions are fre- quently excited, it cannot thrive. Such advance in humanity as we have made within recent times is chiefly due to the fact that the horrors of war are seldom brought home to everybody's door. Either war is conducted on ^ , , ■' -' Growth of some remote frontier, or if armies march through humane a densely peopled country the conditions of modern in recent warfare have made it essential to their efficiency '""^^ as military instruments that depredation and riot should be as far as possible checked. Murder and pillage are comparatively infrequent, massacre is seldom heard of, and torture is almost as extinct as cannibalism. The mass of citizens escape physical suffering, the angry emotions are so directed upon impersonal objects as to acquire a strong ethical value, and the intervals of strife may find individual soldiers of hostile armies exchanging kindly services. Mem- bers of a complex industrial society, without direct experi- ence of warfare save in this mitigated form, have their char- acters wrought upon in a way that is distinctively modern, as they become more and more disinclined to violence and cruelty. European historians have noticed, with words of praise, the freedom from bloodthirstiness which characterizes the American people. Mr. Lecky has more than once re- marked upon this humane temperament which is so charac- teristic of our peaceful civilization, and which sometimes, indeed, shows the defects of its excellence and tends to weaken society by making it difficult to inflict due punish- 256 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND ment upon the vilest criminals. In respect of this humanity the American of the nineteenth century has without doubt improved very considerably upon his forefathers of the seventeenth. The England of Cromwell and Milton was not, indeed, a land of hard-hearted people as compared with their contemporaries. The long experience of internal peace since the great War of the Roses had not been without its effect ; and while the Tudor and Stuart periods had atroci- ties enough, we need only remember what was going on at the same time in France and Germany in order to realize how much worse it might have been. In England, as else- where, however, it was, when looked at with our eyes, a rough and brutal time. It was a day of dungeons, whip- ping-posts, and thumbscrews, when slight offenders were maimed and bruised and great offenders cut into pieces by sentence of court. The pioneers of New England had grown up familiar with such things ; and among the towns- people of Boston and Hartford in 1675 were still many who in youth had listened to the awful news from Magdeburg or turned pale over the horrors in Piedmont upon which Milton invoked the wrath of Heaven. When civilized men are removed from the safeguards of civilization and placed in the wilderness amid the hideous dangers that beset human existence in a savage state of society, whatever barbarism lies latent in them is likely to find many opportunities for showing itself. The feelings that stir the meekest of men, as he stands amons Warfare with sav- the smouldering embers of his homestead and gazes t'fte'S "PO'^ the mangled bodies of wife and children, are character f^^lings that he shares with the most bloodthirsty savage, and the primary effect of his higher intelli- gence and greater sensitiveness is only to increase their bitterness. The neighbour who hears the dreadful story is quick to feel likewise, for the same thing may happen to him, and there is nothing so pitiless as fear. With the Puritans such gloomy and savage passions seemed to find justification in the sacred text from which he drew his rules 0^$^^uSEa,l KING PHILIP'S WAR 257 of life. To suppose that one part of the Bible could be less authoritative than another would have been to him an incom- prehensible heresy ; and bound between the same covers that included the Sermon on the Mount were tales of whole- sale massacre perpetrated by God's command. Evidently the red men were not stray children of Israel, after all, but rather Philistines, Canaanites, heathen, sons of Belial, fire- brands of hell, demons whom it was no more than right to sweep from the face of the earth. Writing in this spirit, the chroniclers of the time were completely callous in their accounts of suffering and ruin inflicted upon Indians, and, as has elsewhere been known to happen, those who did not risk their own persons were more truculent in tone than the professional fighters. Of the narrators of the war, perhaps the fairest toward the Indian is the doughty Captain Church, while none is more bitter and cynical than the Ipswich pastor, William Hubbard. While the overthrow of the Narragansetts changed the face of things, it was far from putting an end to the war. It showed that when the white man could find his enemy he could deal crushing blows, but the Indian was not always so easy to find. Before the end of January, Winslow's little army was partially disbanded for want of food, and its three contingents fell back upon Stonington, Boston, and Plymouth. Early in February the Federal Commissioners called for a new levy of 600 men to assemble at Brookfield, for the Nip- mucks were beginning to renew their incursions, and, after an interval of six months the figure of Philip again appears for a moment upon the scene. What he had been doing, or where he had been, since the Brookfield fight in August, was never known. When in February, 1676, he reappeared it was still in company with his allies the Nipmucks, ^tj^^^ in their bloody assault upon Lancaster. On the Ig^ncaster, lOth of that month at sunrise the Indians came February' swarming into the pretty village. Danger had al- ready been apprehended, the pastor, Joseph Rowlandson, the 258 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND only Harvard graduate of 1652, had gone to Boston to solicit aid, and Captain Wadsworth's company was slowly making its way over the difficult roads from Marlborough, but the • Indians were beforehand. Several houses were at once sur- rounded and set on fire, and men, women, and children be- gan, falling under the tomahawk. The minister's house was large and strongly built, and more than forty people found shelter there until at length it took fire and they were driven out by the flames. Only one escaped, a dozen or more were slain, and the rest, chiefly women and children, taken cap- tive. The Indians aimed at plunder as well as destruction ; for they were in sore need of food and blankets, as well as of powder and ball. Presently, as they saw Wadsworth's armed men approaching, they took to flight and got away, with many prisoners and a goodly store of provisions. Among the captives was Mary Rowlandson, the minister's wife, who afterward wrote the story of her sad experiences. The treatment of the prisoners varied with the caprice or the cupidity of the captors. Those for whom a substantial ran- som might be expected fared comparatively well ; to others death came as a welcome relief. One poor woman with a child in. her arms was too weak to endure the arduous tramp over the icy hillsides, and begged to be left behind, till pre- sently the savages lost their patience. They built a. fire, ,, „ asnd after a kind of demon dance killed mother and Mrs. Row- jandson's child with a club and threw the bodies into the narrative n o i .11 flames, buch treatment may seem exceptionally merciful, but those modern observers who best know the Indian's habits say that he seldom indulges in torture except when he has abundance of leisure and a mind quite undis- turbed. He is an epicure in human agony and likes to en- joy it in long slow sips. It is for the end of the march that the accumulation of horrors is reserved ; the victims by the way are usually despatched quickly ; and in the case of Mrs; Rowlandson's captors their irregular and circuitous march indicates that they were on the alert. Their movements seem to have covered mUch of the ground between Wachu- A BRIEF HISTORY O F THE fef With the I!^(T)1J:HJ m EVV-ENGLA (Vtom^'Unet^, 1675. when tliefirft Englifli-manwjs mur- dered by the Indians, to An^ti]} 12. 1676. when Philip, alias MctiP.comtt, the principal Author and Beginner of che Warr, was flain.) Wherein the Grounds, Beginning, and Progrefs of the Warr, is lummarily cxpreffcd, TOGETHER WITH A SERIOUS 'EXHORTATIO ' tothe Inhabita nts of that Land, " By INCREASE MATHER, Teacher of a Church of Chrift, in Bofton in NtW'-EngUni. Lcvit. %&z 5. i-aill hlf^ ti Swrn d hfcn joii, lb,n[h.iU dws^c the .panel of the I'o- Pfil. 107 'ti- "H" « 'I'A ">■''' "■'•- (il>!er'.e thife tbh?,s,iv!n they [hiU irMojl^'id tot Jer. ii.i5'''DJri3NrF£i!^^ > Sejnius irritant snivnos demina per aures, <5ujmqii*fint ocu!i5 co:nmiITi iiilelibus: *^ Lege Hirtofism r.cfiasHlfloria. C\c Uor.tt. BOSTON, Printed and Sold by fnhn Foferoyci Bgainil the Sign of the Dove. 1676. »oa TRUE IS TO O F T H E O F Mrs. MART ROWtANDSON, ^ fi A Adinifter's Wife in Neiv-En?lanJ. ^^ ^1 . . " - li ||g Wherein is fee forth, The Cruel and Inhumane Sg^ •|§g Ufage fhe underwent amongft the Heathens, for |5|, Acg Eleven Weeks time ; And her Deliverance from w> IP them. i^' &^ f^''//?!?^ J^y her own Hawd, for her Priv.its Z/fi i AhJ nowmade ^^ J^ Pitllic'k at the e.irneft Dtfne of feme Friends, fir the Benefit •,'3*' ■*|f oftheAmaed. ' ■ gp- iCtX — — - ^T Whereunto is snriej.'S''',, III A Sermon of the Poffibility c] God's Forfaking-a Peo- 1&*" %?, pie that have been near av:l dear to 'nm. '^ pie that have been near a?;:l dear to him. ,iOa Preached by Mv.'infcpi Roiriv^dfrn, Uus!)3i..i to ihc ftid Mi ,.kirr: itidfou: S^ *^g:s' Il.lxinghisLn!l.S..r:iicji. f^ Vsi? rriiitnl fiift at Nev-Enol,r,hi : And Rc-prir,tccl nc Lo/-,;*, nr.d fold 1^3? *p« by- yo/;,"/; Pocie, a: the /.'/wr £o!r/ in : .'ic Jmi.-- \\ 'Mh bv Chafu- ^St 'o,^ CWW:, Hofpital. 6:-:.' ' J?^r If* «[.j «^ «•;■>. «f» tqx «fs »^ cfj. o>> ejf» tj.,- ijjisr ^.Ttj-T «'ji .-jS^tfivfjcj' KING PHILIP'S WAR 261 sett mountain and the Connecticut river. They knew that the white squaw of the great medicine man of an English village was worth a heavy ransom, and so they treated Mrs. Rowlandson unusually well. She had been captured, when escaping from the burning house, carrying in her arms her little six-year-old daughter. She was stopped by a bul- let that grazed her side and struck the child. The Indian who seized them placed the little girl upon a horse, arid as the dreary march began she kept moaning " I shall die, mamma." " I went on foot after it," says the mother, " with sorrow that cannot be expressed. At length I took it off the horse, and carried it in my arms till my strength failed me, and I fell down with it. . . . After this it quickly began to snow, and when night came on they stopped. And now down I must sit in the snow, by a little fire, and a few boughs behind me, with my sick child in my lap, and calling much -for water, being now, through the wound, fallen into a violent fever. . . . Oh, may I see the wonderful power of God that my spirit did not utterly sink under my affliction ; still the Lord upheld me with his gracious and merciful spirit." The little girl soon died. For three months the weary and heartbroken mother was led about the country by these loathsome savages, of whose habits and manners she gives a vivid description. At first their omnivorousness astonished her. " Skunks and rattlesnakes, yea the very bark of trees " they esteemed as delicacies. " They would pick up old bones and cut them in pieces at the joints, . . . then boil them and drink up the liquor, and then beat the great ends of them in a mortar and so eat them." After some weeks of starvation Mrs. Rowlandson herself was fain to partake of such viands. One day, having made a cap for one of Philip's boys, she was invited to dine with the great sachem. "I went," she says, "and he gave me a pancake about as big as two fingers. It was made of parched wheat, beaten, and fried in bear's grease ; but I thought I never tasted pleasanter meat in my life." Early in May she was redeemed for ;^20, and went to find her husband in 262 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND Boston, where the Old South Church society hired a house for them. Such was the experience of a captive whose treatment was, according to Indian notions, hospitable. There were few who came off so well. Almost every week while she was led hither and thither by the savages, Mrs. Rowlandson heard ghastly tales of fire and slaughter. It was a busy winter and spring for these Nipmucks. Before February was over, their exploit at Lancaster was followed by a shocking massacre at Medfield. They sacked and destroyed the towns of Worcester, Marlborough, Mendon, and Groton, and even burned some houses in Weymouth, within a dozen miles of Boston. Murderous attacks were made upon Sud- bury, Chelmsford, Springfield, Hatfield, Hadley, North- ampton, Wrentham, Andover, Bridgewater, Scituate, and Middleborough. On the i8th of April Captain Samuel Virtual Wadsworth, with 70 men, was drawn into an extermina- ambush near Sudbury, surrounded by 500* Nip- indians, mucks, and killed with 50 of his men ; six unfor- Fcbru.3,rv August, tunate captives were burned alive over slow fires. '^''^ But Wadsworth's party made the enemy pay dearly for his victory ; that afternoon 1 20 Nipmucks bit the dust. In such wise, by killing two or three for one, did the English wear out and annihilate their adversaries. Just one month from that day Captain William Turner^ surprised and slaugh- /piA'/^ ^7XPHf\3f tered 300 of these warriors //'^"^ near the falls of the Connecti- cut river which have since borne his name, and this blow at last broke the strength of the Nipmucks. Meanwhile the Narragansetts and Wampanoags had burned the towns of Warwick and Providence. After the wholesale ruin of the great " swamp fight," Canonchet had still some 600 or 700 warriors left, and with these, on the 26th of 1 Turner was a Baptist who had been banished in 1668. His return and appointment to a position of trust is a good illustration of the fitful- ness with which persecution was carried on. KING PHILIP'S WAR 263 /^^ Xif^ March, in the neighbourhood of Pawtuxet, he surprised a company of 50 Plymouth men under Captain Michael Peirce, and slew them all, but not until he had lost 140 of his best war- riors. Ten days later Captain George Denison, with his Con- necticut company, defeated and captured Canonchet, and the proud son of Miantonomo met the same fate as his father^. He was hai^ded over to the Mohegans and toma- Death of hawked. The Narragansett sachem had shown Canonchet such bravery that it seemed, says the chronicler Hubbard, as if " some old Roman ghost had possessed the body of this western pagan." But next moment this pious clergyman, as if ashamed of the classical eulogy just bestowed upon the hated redskin, alludes to him as a "damned wretch." The fall of Canonchet marked the beginning of the end. In four sharp fights in the last week of June, Major John Talcott, of Hartford, slew from 300 to 400 warriors, being nearly all that were left of the Narragansetts ;• and during the month of July Captain Church patrolled the country about Taunton, making prisoners of the Wampanoags. Once more King Philip, shorn of his prestige, comes upon the scene. We have seen that his agency in these cruel events had been at the outset a potent one. Whatever else it may have been, it was at least the agency of the match that explodes the powder-cask. Under the conditions of that savage society, organized leadership was not to be looked for. In the irregular and disorderly series of murdering raids Philip may have been often pre- sent, but except for Mrs. Rowlandson's narrative we should have known nothing of him since the Brookfield fight. At length in July, 1676, having seen the last of his Nip- muck friends overwhelmed, the tattered chieftain showed himself near Bridgewater, with a handful of followers. In these his own hunting-ground^ some of his former friends 264 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND had become disaffected. The daring and diplomatic Church had made his way into the wigwam of Ashawonks, the squaw sachem of Saconet, near Little Compton, and having first convinced her that a flask of brandy might be tasted without fatal results, followed up his advantage and persuaded her to make an alliance with the English. Many Indians came in and voluntarily surrendered themselves, in order to obtain favourable terms, and some lent their aid in destroying their old sachem. Defeated at Taunton, the son of Massasoit was hunted by Church to his ancient lair at Bristol Neck and there besieged. His only escape was over the narrow isthmus of which the pursuers now took possession, and in this dire extremity one of Philip's men presumed to advise his chief that the hour for surrender had come. For his unwelcome counsel the sachem forthwith lifted his toma- -hawk and struck him dead at his feet. Then the brother of the slain man crept away through the bushes to Church's little camp, and offered to guide the white men to Death of , T^, •,. , 1 1 A 1 Philip, the morass where Philip lay concealed. At day- "gis 12 ];)Yeak of August 1 2 the English stealthily advan- cing beat up their prey. The savages in sudden panic rushed from under cover, and as the sachem showed him- self running at the top of his speed,- a ball from an Indian musket pierced his heart, and "he fell upon his face in the mud and water, with his gun under him." His severed head was sent to Plymouth, where it was mounted on a pole and exposed aloft upon the village green, while the meeting- house bell summoned the townspeople to a special service of thanksgiving. It may be supposed that in such services at this time a Christian feeling of charity and forgiveness was not upper- most. Among the captives was a son of Philip, the little swarthy lad of nine years for whom Mrs. Rowlandson had made a cap, and the question as to what was to be done with him occasioned as much debate as if he had been a Jesse Pomeroyi or a Chicago anarchist. The mere fact of the ^ A wretched little werewolf who some few years ago, being then a KING PHILIP'S WAR 265 discussion illustrates the increasing humanity of the age. The opinions of the clergy were, of course, eagerly sought and freely vouchsafed. One minister somewhat doubtfully urged that " although a precept in Deuteronomy explicitly forbids killing the child for the father's sin," yet after all " the children of Saul and Achan perished with their par- ents, though too young to have shared their guilt." Thus curiously did this English reverence for precedent, with a sort of grim conscientiousness colouring its gloomy wrath, search for guidance among the ancient records of the chil- dren of Israel. Commenting upon the truculent suggestion. Increase Mather, soon to be president of Harvard, observed that, "though David had spared the infant Hadad, yet it might have been better for his people if he had been less merciful." These bloodthirsty counsels did not prevail, but the course that was adopted did not lack in harshness. Among the sachems a dozen leading spirits were hanged or shot, and hundreds of captives were sold into shipped off to the West Indies to be sold into ^^^"^^ slavery ; among these was Philip's little son. The rough soldier Church and the apostle Eliot were among the few who disapproved of this policy. Church feared it might goad such Indians as were still at large to acts of despera- tion. Eliot, in an earnest letter to the Federal Commis- lad of fourteen or fifteen years, most cruelly murdered two or three young children, just to amuse himself with their dying agonies. The misdirected " humanitarianism," which in our country makes every murderer an object of popular sympathy, prevailed to save this crea- ture from the gallows. Massachusetts has lately witnessed a similar instance of misplaced clemency in the case of a vile woman who had poisoned eight or ten persons, including some of her own children, in order to profit by their life insurance. Such instances help to explain the prolonged vitality of "Judge Lynch," and sometimes almost make one regret the days in old England when William Probert, after escap- ing in 1824 as "king's evidence," from the Thurtell affair, got caught and hanged within a twelvemonth for horse-stealing. Any one who wishes to study the results of allowing criminality to survive and propa- gafe itself should read Dugdale's The Jukes ; Hereditary Crime, New York, 1877. 266 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND sioners, observed : " To sell souls for money seemeth to me dangerous merchandise." But the plan of exporting the captives was adhered to. As slaves they were understood to be of little or no value, and sometimes for want of pur- chasers they were set ashore on strange coasts and aban- doned. A few were carried to one of the foulest of mediae- val slave-marts, Morocco, where their fate was doubtless wretched enough. In spite of Church's doubts as to the wisdom of this harsh treatment, it did not prevent the beaten and starving savages from surrendering themselves in considerable numbers. To some the Federal Commissioners offered amnesty, and the promise was faithfully fulfilled. Among those who laid down arms in reliance upon it were 140 Christian Indians, with their leader known as James the Printer, because he had been employed at Cambridge in setting up the type for Eliot's Bible. Quite early in the war it had been discovered that these converted savages still felt the ties of blood to be stronger than those of creed. At the" attack on Mendon, only three weeks after the horrors at Swanzey that ushered in the war, it was known that Christian Indians had behaved themselves quite as cruelly as their unregenerate of the brethren. Afterwards they made such a record MianT" ^^^^ ^^^ jokcrs and punsters of the day — for such there were, even among those sombre Puritans — in writing about the "Praying Indians," spelled /ra;'?^^ with an e. The moral -scruples of these savages, under the influ- ence of their evangelical training, betrayed queer freaks. One of them, says Mrs. Rowlandson, would rather die than eat horseflesh, so narrow and scrupulous was his conscience, although it was as wide as the whole infernal abyss, when it came to torturing white Christians. The student of history may have observed similar inconsistencies in the theories and conduct of people more enlightened than these poor red men. "There was another Praying Indian," continues Mrs. Rowlandson, " who, when he had done all the mischief he could, betrayed his own father into the English's hands. x^ The Wicked mum Tortion. OR A SERMON (Preached 3t the LtCiun in Bofl on in New-England the i8th' day of the I- Moneth 1674. when two men were extimed, who had miirthtrf^ their Mafter.) Wherein is Ihewed That excejfe in mckednefs doth bring untime/y T>€ath. -I ^^ INCREASE MATHER, Teacher of a Church of Chrift. Prov, 10.27. ^'^' P"*' ofilii-Etrd frolongith dnja, l>y.t the je^rs of the vickedjh/ili h fhirthcil. Eph. 6. 2, 3. Honour thy Father and thj M«thtr (yfhich it the fi^fi Commanimint with prontife) that it mitj he wtM yritll thtf, and thou mnyft live long on the Earth, Psena ad paucos, metui id omnes. S a S T O N , Printed by Jokn Fofltr, 1675 l~IRST liOOK I'RIN'TEI) IN j'.OSTON 268 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND thereby to purchase his own life ; . . . and there was an- other ... so wicked ... as to wear a string about his neck, strung with Christian fingers." Such incidents help us to comprehend the exasperation of our forefathers in the days of King Philip. The month which witnessed his death saw also the end of the war in the southern parts of New England ; but, almost before peo- ple had time to offer thanks for the victory, there came news of bloodshed on the northeastern frontier. The Tar- ratines in Maine had for some time been infected with the war fever. How far they may have been comprehended in the schemes of Philip and Canonchet, it would be hard to War say. They had attacked settlers on the site of Tamtines Brunswick as early as September, 1675. About 1676-78 the time of Philip's death, Major Richard Waldron of Dover had entrapped a party of them by an unworthy stratagem, and after satisfying himself that they were ac- complices in that chieftain's scheme, sent them to Boston to be sold into slavery. A terrible retribution was in store for Major Waldron thirteen years later. For the present the hideous strife, just ended in southern New England, was continued on the northeastern frontier, and there was scarcely a village between the Kennebec and the Piscataqua. but was laid in ashes. By midsummer of 1678 the Indians had been everywhere suppressed, and there was peace in the land. For three years, since Philip's massacre at Swanzey, there had been a reign of terror in New England. Within the boundaries of Connecticut, indeed, little or no damage had been inflicted, and the troops of that colony, not needed on their own soil, did noble service in the common cause. In Massachusetts and Plymouth, on the other hand, the destruction of life and property had been simply frightful. Destruc- ^^ ninety towns, twelve had been utterly destroyed, tiveness of while morc than forty others had been the scene of fire and slaughter. Out of this little society nearly a thousand staunch men, including not few of broad culture HUBBARD'S MAP, 1677 : THE F : ' >-: " '■ I III I trillWIII.I ENGRAVED IN NEW ENGLAND KING PHILIP'S WAR 269 and strong promise, had lost their Uves, while of the scores of fair women and poor little children that had perished un- der the ruthless tomahawk, one can hardly give an accurate account. Hardly a family throughout the land but was in mourning. The war debt of Plymouth was reckoned to ex- ceed the total amount of personal property in the colony ; yet although it pinched every household for many a year, it was paid to the uttermost farthing ; nor in this respect were Massachusetts and Connecticut at all behindhand. But while King Philip's War wrought such fearful damage to the English, it was for the Indians themselves utter de- struction. Most of the warriors were slain, and to the sur- vivors, as we have seen, the conquerors showed but scant mercy. The Puritan, who conned his Bible so earnestly, had taken his hint from the wars of the Jews, and swept his New English Canaan with a broom that was pitiless and search- ing. Henceforth the red man figures no more in the history of New England, except as an ally of the French in bloody raids upon the frontier. In that capacity he does mischief enough for yet a half-century more, but from central and southern New England, as an element of disturbance or a power to be reckoned with, he disappears forever. CHAPTER VI THE TYRANNY OF ANDROS The beginnings of New England were made in the full daylight of modern history. It was an age of town records, of registered deeds, of contemporary memoirs, of diplomatic correspondence, of controversial pamphlets, funeral sermons, political diatribes, specific instructions, official reports, and private letters. It was not a time in which mythi- features in cal personages or incredible legends could flourish, Wstory rf and such things we do not find in the history of New Eng- ]^q^ England. There was nevertheless a romantic side to this history, enough to envelop some of its characters and incidents in a glamour that may mislead the modern reader. This wholesale migration from the smiling fields of merry England to an unexplored wilderness beyond a thousand leagues of sea was of itself a most romantic- and thrilling event, and when viewed in the light of its historic results it becomes clothed with sublimity. The men who undertook this work were not at all free from self-conscious- ness. They believed that they were doing a wonderful thing. They felt themselves to be instruments in accomplishing a kind of "manifest destiny." Their exodus was that of a chosen people who were at length to lay the everlasting foundations of God's kingdom upon earth. Such opinions, which took a strong colour from their assiduous study of the Old Testament, reacted and disposed them all the more to search its pages for illustrations and precedents, and to regard it as an oracle, almost as a talisman. In every- pro- pitious event they saw a special providence, an act of divine intervention to deliver them from the snares of an ever watchful Satan. This steadfast faith in an unseen ruler and THE TYRANNY OF ANDROS AUSTIN HOUSE (1657), OLDEST IN CAMBRIDGE guide was to them a pillar of cloud by day and of fire by night. It was of great moral value. It gave them clearness of purpose and concentration of strength, and contributed toward making them, like the children of Israel, a people of indestructible vitality and aggressive energy. At the same time,_in the hands of the Puritan writers, this feeling was apt to warp their estimates of events and throw such a romantic haze about things as seriously to interfere with a true historical perspective. Among such writings that which perhaps best epitomizes the Puritan philosophy is " The Wonder-working Providence of Zion's Saviour in- New England," by Captain Ed,,ard Edward Johnson, one of the principal founders of Johnson Woburn. It is an extremely valuable history of New Eng- land from 1628 to 165 1, and every page is alive with the virile energy of that stirring time. With narrative, argu- ment, and apologue, abounding in honesty of purpose, sub- limity of trust, and grotesqueness of fancy, wherein touching tenderness is often alternated with sternness most grim and merciless, yet now and then relieved by a sudden gleam of 272 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND humour, — and all in a style that is usually uncouth and harsh, but sometimes bursts forth in eloquence worthy of Bunyan, • — we are told how the founders of New England are soldiers of Christ enlisted in a holy war, and how they must " march manfully on till all opposers of Christ's kingly power be abolished." "And as for you who are called to sound forth his silver trumpets, blow loud and shrill to this chiefest treble tune — for the armies of the great Jehovah are at hand." " He standeth not as an idle spectator behold- ing his people's ruth and their enemies' rage, but as an actor in all actions, to bring to naught the desires of the wicked, . . . having also the ordering of every weapon in its first produce, guiding every shaft that flies, leading each bullet to his place of settling, and weapon to the wound it makes." To men engaged in such a crusade against the powers of evil, nothing could seem insignificant or trivial ; for, as John- son continues, in truly prophetic phrase, "the Lord Christ intends to achieve greater matters by this little handful than the world is aware of." The general sentiment of the early New England writers was like that of the " Wonder-working Providence," though it did not always find such rhapsodic expression. It has left its impress upon the minds of their children's children down to our own time, and has affected the opinions held about them by other people. It has had something to do with a certain tacit assumption of superiority on the part of New Englanders, upon which the men and women of other com- munities have been heard to comment in resentful and carp- ing tones. There has probably never existed, in any age or at any spot on the earth's surface, a group of people that did not take for granted its own preeminent excellence. Upon some such assumption, as upon an incontrovertible axiom, all historical narratives, from the chronicles of a par- ish to the annals of an empire, alike proceed. But in New England it assumed a form especially apt to provoke chal- lenge. One of its unintentional effects was the setting up of an unreal and impossible standard by which to judge the THE TYRANNY OF ANDROS 2^3 acts and motives of the Puritans of the seventeenth century. We come upon instances of harshness and cruelty, ^ of narrow-minded bigotry, and superstitious frenzy ; Puritans and feel, perhaps, a little surprised that these men judged by had so much in common with their contempora- gt^nXrd ries. Hence the interminable discussion which has been called forth by the history of the Puritans, in which the conclusions of the writer have generally been determined by circumstances of birth or creed, or perhaps of reaction against creed. One critic points to the Boston of 1659 or the Salem of 1692 with such gleeful satisfaction as used to stir the heart of Thomas Paine when he alighted upon an inconsistency in some text of the Bible ; while another, in the firm conviction that Puritans could do no wrong, plays fast and loose with arguments that might be made to justify the deeds of a Torquemada. From such methods of criticism it is the duty of historians as far as possible to free themselves. If we consider the Puritans in the light of their surroundings as Englishmen of the seventeenth century and inaugurators of a political movement that was gradually to change for the better the aspect of things all ovejr the earth, we cannot fail to discern the value of that sacred enthusiasm which led them to regard themselves as chosen soldiers of Christ, ofthe It was the spirit of the "Wonder-working Provi- ^OTkk?*^" dence " that hurled the tyrant from his throne at .p™^- „ ■^ idence " Whitehall and prepared the way for the emancipa- tion of modern Europe. No spirit less intense, no spirit nurtured in the contemplation of things terrestrial, could ever have done it. The political philosophy of a Vane or a Sidney could never have done it. The passion for liberty as felt by a Jefferson or an Adams, abstracted and general- ized from the love of particular liberties, was something scarcely intelligible to the seventeenth century. The ideas of absolute freedom of thought and speech, which we breathe in from childhood, were to the men of that age strange and questionable. They groped and floundered among them, 274 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND very much as modern wool-growers in Ohio or iron-smelters in Pennsylvania flounder and grope among the elementary truths of political economy. But the spirit in which the Hebrew prophet rebuked and humbled an idolatrous king was a spirit they could comprehend. Such a spirit was sure to manifest itself in narrow cramping measures and in ugly acts of persecution ; but it is none the less to the fortunate alliance of that fervid religious enthusiasm with the English- man's love of self-government that our modern freedom owes its existence. The history of New England under Charles II. yields abundant proof that political liberty is no less indebted in the New World than in the Old to the spirit of the " Won- der-working Providence." The theocratic ideal which the Merits and Puritan sought to put into practice in Massachu- of"the setts and Connecticut was a sacred institution in theocracy defence of which all his faculties were kept per- petually alert. Much as he loved self-government, he would never have been so swift to detect and so stubborn to resist every slightest encroachment on the part of the crown had not the loss of self-government involved the imminent dan- ger that the ark of the Lord might be abandoned to the worshippers of Dagon. It was in Massachusetts, where the theocracy was strongest, that the resistance to Charles II. was most dogged and did most to prepare the way for the work of achieving political independence a century later. Naturally it was in Massachusetts at the same time that the faults of the theocracy were most conspicuous. It was there that priestly authority most clearly asserted itself in such oppressive acts as are always witnessed when too much power is left in the hands of men whose primary allegiance is to a kingdom not of this world. Much as we owe to the theocracy for warding off the encroachments of the crown, we cannot be sorry that it was itself crushed in the process. It was well that it did not survive its day of usefulness, and that the outcome of the struggle was what has been aptly termed "the emancipation of Massachusetts." THE TYRANNY OF ANDROS 27s LEE HOUSE (CIR. 1660), SECOND OLDEST IN CAMBRIDGE The basis of the theocratic constitution of this common- wealth was the provision by which the exercise of the fran- chise was made an incident of church-membership. Unless a man could take part in the Lord's Supper, as administered in the churches of the colony, he could not vote or Restriction hold ofifice. Church and state, parish and town, "^^^^^ were thus virtually identified. Here, as in some to church ■' . . members Other aspects of early New England, one is re- minded of the ancient Greek cities, where the freeman who could vote in the market-place or serve his turn as magis- trate was the man qualified to perform sacrifices to the tutelar deities of the tribe ; other men might dwell in the city but had no share in making or executing its laws. The limitation of civil rights by religious tests is indeed one of those common inheritances from the old Aryan world that we find again and again cropping out, even down to the exclusion of Catholics from the House of Commons from 1562 to 1829. The obvious purpose of this policy in Eng- land was self-protection ; and in like manner the restriction 276 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND of the suffrage in Massachusetts was designed to protect the colony against aggressive episcopacy and to maintain unimpaired the uniformity of purpose which had brought the settlers across the ocean. Under the circumstances there was something to be said in behalf of such a measure of self-protection, and the principle required but slight extension to cover such cases as the banishment of Roger Williams and the Antinomians. There was another side to the case, however. From the very outset this exclusive policy was in some ways a source of weakness to Massachu- setts, though we have seen that the indirect effect was to diversify and enrich the political life of New England as a whole. At first it led to the departure of the men who founded Connecticut, and thereafter the way was certainly open for those who preferred the Connecticut policy to go where it prevailed. Some such segregation was no doubt effected, but it could not be complete and thorough. Men who pre- ferred Boston without the franchise to Hartford with it It was a would remain in Massachusetts ; and thus the pouticaf elder colony soon came to possess a discontented discontent class of people, always ready to join hand and glove with dissenters or mischief-makers, or even with emissaries of the crown. It afforded a suggestive commentary upon all attempts to suppress human nature by depriving it of a share in political life ; instead of keeping it inside where you can try conclusions with it fairly, you thrust it out to plot mischief in the dark. Within twenty years from the found- ing of Boston the disfranchisement of such citizens as could not participate in church-communion had begun to be re- garded as a serious political grievance. These men were obliged to pay taxes and were liable to be called upon for military service against the Indians ; and they naturally felt that they ought to have a voice in the management of public affairs. Besides this fundamental ground of complaint, there were derivative grievances. Under the influence of the clergy THE TYRANNY OF ANDROS 277 justice was administered in somewhat inquisitorial fashion, there was an uncertainty as to just what the law was, a strong disposition to confuse questions of law with questions of ethics, and great laxity in the admission and estimation of evidence. As early as 1639 people had begun to inquisito- complain that too much power was vested in the [gtrat?™ of discretion of the magistrate, and they clamoured justice for a code of laws ; but as Winthrop says, the magistrates and ministers were " not very forward in this matter," for they preferred to supplement the common law of England by decisions based on the Old Testament rather than by a body HOUSE AT NORTH AND SMITH STREETS (CIR. 1674), OLDEST IN BOSTON of statutes. It was not until 1641, after a persistent strug- gle, that the deputies won a decisive victory over the assist- ants and secured for Massachusetts a definite code of laws.^ In the New Haven colony similar theocratic notions led the settlers to dispense with trial by jury because they could 1 The Body of Liberties, drawn up by Rev. Nathaniel Ward, of Ipswich, the famous author of The Simple Cobler of Aggaivam, Lon- don, 1647. 278 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND find no precedent for it in the laws of Moses. Here, as in Massachusetts, the inquisitorial administration of justice combined with partial disfranchisement to awaken discon- tent, and it was partly for this reason that New Haven fell so easily under the sway of Connecticut. In Massachusetts after 1650 the opinion rapidly gained ground that all baptized persons of upright and decorous lives ought to be considered, for practical purposes, as mem- bers of the church, and therefore entitled to the exercise The"H If °^ political rights, even though unqualified for par- way Cove- ticipation in the Lord's Supper. This theory of church-membership, based on what was at that time stigmatized as the " Halfway Covenant," aroused in- tense opposition. It was the great question of the day. In 1657 a council was held in Boston, which approved the prin- ciple of the Halfway Covenant ; and as this decision was far from satisfying the churches, a synod of all the clergymen in Massachusetts was held five years later, to reconsider the great question. The decision of the synod substantially con- firmed the decision of the council, but there were some dis- senting voices. Foremost among the dissenters, who wished to retain the old theocratic regime in all its strictness, was Charles Chauncey, the president of Hansard College, and Increase Mather agreed with him at the time, though he afterward saw reason to change his opinion, and published two tracts in favour of the Halfway Covenant. Most bitter of all toward the new theory of church-membership was, naturally enough, Mr. Davenport of New Haven. This burning question was the source of angry contentions in the First Church of Boston. Its teacher, the learned and cynical Norton, died in 1663, and four years later the aged pastor, John Wilson, followed him. In choosing a successor to Wilson the church decided to declare itself in opposition to the liberal decision of the synod, and in token thereof invited Davenport to come from New Haven to take charge of it. Davenport, who was then seventy years old, was dis- gusted at the recent annexation of his colony to Connecticut. THE TYRANNY OF ANDROS 279 He accepted the invitation and came to Boston, against the wishes of nearly half of the Boston congregation who did not like the illiberal principle which he represented. In little more than a year his ministry at Boston was ended by death ; but the opposition to his call had already proceeded so far o5-^-«^"fP that a secession from the old church had become inevitable. In 1669 the advocates of the Halfway Covenant pounjin organized themselves into a new society under the °f *e old title of the "Third Church in Boston." A wooden church, meeting-house was' built on a lot which had once ' ' belonged to the late Governor Winthrop, in what was then the south part of the town, so that the society and its meet- 28o THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND ing-house became known as the South Church ; and after a new church founded in Summer Street in 1717 took the name of the New South, the church of 1669 came to be further distinguished as the Old South. As this church represented a liberal idea which was growing in favour with the people, it soon became the most flourishing church in America. After sixty years its numbers had increased so that the old meeting-house could not contain them ; and in 1 729 the famous building which still stands was erected on the same spot, — a building with»a grander history than any other on the American continent, unless it be that other plain brick building in Philadelphia where the Declaration of Independence was adopted and the Federal Constitution framed. The wrath of the First Church at this secession from its ranks was deep and bitter, and for thirteen years it refused to entertain ecclesiastical intercourse with the South Church. But by 1682 it had become apparent that the king and his friends were meditating an attack upon the Puritan theo- cracy in New England. It had even been suggested, in the council for the colonies; that the ChurcL of England should be established in Massachusetts, and that none but duly ordained Episcopal clergymen should be allowed to sol- emnize marriages. Such alarming suggestions began to impress the various Puritan churches with the importance of uniting their forces against the common enemy ; and accordingly in 1682 the quarrel between the two Boston societies came to an end. There was urgent need of all the sympathy and good feeling that the community could muster, whereby to cheer itself in the crisis that was coming. The four years from 1684 to 1688 were the darkest years in the history of New England. Massachusetts, though not lacking in the spirit, had not the power to beard the tyrant as she did eighty years later. Her attitude toward the Stuarts — as we have seen — had been sometimes openly haughty and defiant, sometimes silent and sullen, but always independent. At the accession of Charles II. the colonists THE TYRANNY OF ANDROS 281 had thought it worth while to send commissioners to Eng- land to confer with the king and avoid a quarrel. Charles promised to respect their charter, but insisted that in return they must take an oath of allegiance to the crown, must administer justice in the king's name, and must repeal their laws restricting the right of suffrage of Charles to church members and prohibiting the Episcopal form of worship. When the people of Massachusetts re- ceived this message they consented to administer justice in the king's name, but all the other matters were referred for consideration to a committee, and so they dropped out of sight. When the royal commissioners came to Boston in 1664, they were especially instructed to ascertain whether Massa- chusetts had complied with the king's demands ; but upon this point the legislature stubbornly v.fithheld any definite answer, while it frittered away the time in trivial alterca- tions with the royal commissioners. The war with Holland and the turbulent state of English politics operated for several years in favour of this independent attitude of the colonists, though during all this time their enemies at court were busy with intrigues and accusations. Apart from mere slanders the real grounds of complaint were the restriction of the suffrage, whereby members of the Church of England were shut out ; the claims of the eastern proprie- Moni- tors, heirs of Mason and Gorges, whose territory p'^^'^^ Massachusetts had absorbed ; the infraction of the Massachu- navigation laws ; and the coinage of pine-tree shil- lings. The last named measure had been forced upon the colonists by the scarcity of a circulating medium. Until 1 66 1 Indian wampum had been a legal tender, and far into the eighteenth century it remained current in small transac- tions. " In 1693 the ferriage from New York to Brooklyn was eight stivers in wampum or a silver twopence."^ As early as 1652 Massachusetts had sought to supply the de- 1 Weeden, Indian Money as a Factor in New England Civilization, Johns Hopkins University Studies, II. viii., ix. p. 30. 282 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND ficiency by the i^sue of shillings and sixpences. It was an affair of convenience and probably had no political purpose. The infraction of the navigation laws was a more serious matter. " Ships from France, Spain, and the Canaries traded directly with Boston, INDIAN WAMPUM . , , , . j and brought m goods which had never paid duty in any English port." ^ The effect of this was to excite the jealousy of the merchants in London and other English cities and to deprive Massa- chusetts of the sympathy of that already numerous and pow- erful class of people. In 167s, the first year of King Philip's War, the British government made up its mind to attend more closely to the The Lords affairs of its American colonies. It had got the of Trade Dutch War off its hauds, and could give heed to other things. The general supervision of the colonies was assigned to a standiiig committee of the privy council, styled the " Eords of the Committee of Trade and Planta- tions," and henceforth familiarly known as the " Lords of Trade." Next year the Lords of Trade sent an agent to Boston, with a letter to Governor Leverett about the Mason and Gorges claims. Under cover of this errand the messen- ger was to go about and ascertain the - sentiments which people in the Kennebec and Piscataqua towns, as well as in Boston, entertained for the government of Massachusetts. The person to whom this work was entrusted was Edward 1 Doyle, ii. 253. THE TYRANNY OF ANDROS 283 Randolph, a cousin of Robert Mason who inherited the pro- prietary claim to the Piscataqua country. To these Edward men had old John Mason bequeathed his deadly ^^"doiph feud with Massachusetts, and the fourteen years which .i;":t:''Sf'M Randolph now spent in New England were busily devoted to sowing the seeds of strife. In 1676 the king appointed him collector and surveyor of customs at the port of Boston, with instructions to enforce the navigation laws. Randolph 284 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND was not the man to do unpopular things in such a way as to dull the edge of the infliction ; he took delight in adding insult to injury. He was at once harsh and treacherous. His one virtue was pecuniary integrity ; he was inaccessible to bribes and did not pick and steal from the receipts at the custom-house. In the other relations of life he was disen- cumbered of scruples. His abilities were not great, but his industry was untiring, and he pursued his enemies with the tenacity of a sleuth-hound. As an excellent British histo- rian observes, " he was one of those men who, once enlisted as partisans, lose every other feeling in the passion which is engendered of strife." ^ The arrival of such a man boded no good to Massachu- setts. His reception at the town-house was a cold one. Governor Leverett liked neither his looks nor his message, and kept his peaked hat on while he read the letter ; when he came to the signature of the king's chief secretary of state, he asked, with careless contempt, " Who is this Henry Coventry.''" Randolph's choking rage found vent in a letter to the king, taking pains to remind him that the gov- ernor of Massachusetts had once been an officer in Crom- well's army. As we read this and think with what ghoulish glee the writer would have betrayed Colonel Goffe into the hands of the headsman, had any clue been given him, we can quite understand why Hubbard and Mather had nothing to say about the mysterious stranger at Hadley. Everything that Randolph could think of that would goad and irritate the king, he reported in full to London ; his letters were specimens of that worst sort of lie that is based upon dis- torted half-truths ; and his malicious pen but seldom lay idle. While waiting for the effects of these reports to ripen, Randolph was busily intriguing with some of the leading men in Boston who were dissatisfied with the policy of the dominant party, and under his careful handling a party was soon brought into existence which was ready to counsel sub- ' Doyle, Puritan Colonies, ii. 254. THE TYRANNY OF ANDROS 28s mission to the royal will. Such was the birth of Toryism in New England. The leader of this party was Joseph Dudley, son of the grim verse-maker who had come over as Joseph lieutenant to Winthrop. The younger Dudley was ^"'^'^y graduated at Harvard in 1665, and proceeded to study the- 286 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND ology, but soon turned his attention entirely to politics. In 1673 he was a deputy from Roxbury in the General Court ; in 1675 he took part in the storming of the Narragansett fort; in 1677 and the three following years hewasoneof the Federal Commissioners. In character and temper he differed greatly from his father. Like the proverbial minis- ter's son whose feet are swift toward folly, Joseph Dudley seems to have learned in stern bleak years of childhood to rebel against the Puritan theory of life. Much of the abuse that has been heaped upon him, as a renegade and traitor, is probably undeserved. It does not appear that he ever made any pretence of love for the Puritan commonwealth, and there were many like him who had as lief be ruled by king as by clergy. But it cannot be denied that his suppleness and sagacity went along with a moral nature that was weak and vulgar. Joseph Dudley was essentially a self-seeking politician and courtier, like his famous kinsman of the pre- vious century, Robert, Earl of Leicester. His party in Massachusetts was largely made up of men who had come to the colony for commercial reasons, and had little or no sympathy with the objects for which it was founded. Among them were Episcopalians, Presbyterians, and Bap- tists, who were allowed no chance for public worship, as well as many others who, like Gallio, cared for none of these things. Their numbers, moreover, must have been large, for Boston had grown to be a town of 5000 inhabitants, the population of Massachusetts was approaching 30,000, and, according to Hutchinson, scarcely one grown man in five was a church member qualified to vote or hold office. Such a fafct speaks volumes as to the change which was coming over 'the Puritan world. No wonder that the clergy had begun to preach about the weeds and tares that were over- running Christ's pleasant garden. No wonder that the spirit of revolt against the disfranchising policy of the theocracy was ripe. It was in .1679, When this weakness of the body politic had been duly studied and reported by Randolph, and when THE TYRANNY OF ANDROS 287 all New England was groaning under the bereavements and burdens entailed by Philip's war, that the Stuart govern- ment began its final series of assaults upoa Massachusetts. The claims of the eastern proprietors, the heirs of Mason and Gorges, furnished the occasion. Since 1643 Royal the four Piscataqua towns — Hampton, Exeter, ^f n^'J^^ Dover, and Portsmouth — had remained under the Hampshire jurisdiction of Massachusetts. After the Restoration the Mason claim had been revived, and in 1677 was referred to the chief-justices North and Rainsford. Their decision was that Mason's claim __ had always been worthless as based on , - ^ i,, a grant in which the old Plymouth Com- pany had exceeded its powers. They also decided that Massa- chusetts had no valid claim since the char- ter assigned her a boundary just north of the Merrimack. This decision left the four towns subject to none but the king, who forthwith in 1679 proceeded to erect them into the royal province of New Hampshire, with pre- sident and council appointed by the crown, and an assembly chosen by the people, but endowed with little authority, — a tricksome counterfeit of popular government. Within three years an arrogant and thieving ruler, Edward Cranfield, had goaded New Hampshire to acts of insurrection. L'^^^'% '^•^1, 288 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND To the decisions of the chief-justices Massachusetts must The Gorges i^^^ds Submit. The Gorges claim led to more seri- ciaim ous rcsults. Under Cromwell's rule in 1652 — the same year in which she began coining money — Massachu- setts had extended her sway over Maine. In 1665 Colonel Nichols and his commissioners, acting upon the express instructions of Charles II., took it away from her. In 1668, after the commissioners had gone home, Massachusetts coolly took possession again. In 1677 the chief -justices decided that the claim of the Gorges family, being based on a grant from James I., was valid. Then the young Ferdi- nando Gorges, grandson of the first proprietor, offered to sell the province to the king, who had now taken it into his head that he would like to bestow it upon the Dukp of Monmouth, his favourite son by Lucy Walters. Before Charles had responded. Governor Leverett had struck a bargain with Gorges, who ceded to Massachusetts -all his rights over Maine for ;^i2SO in hard cash. When the king heard of this transaction he was furious. He sent a letter to Boston, commanding the General Court to surrender the province again on repayment of this sum of ^1250, and ex- pressing his indignation that the people should thus dare to dispose of an important claim off-hand without consulting his wishes. In the same letter the colony was enjoined to put in force the royal orders of seventeen years before, concern- ing the oath of allegiance, the restriction of the suffrage, and the prohibition of the Episcopal form of worship. This peremptory message reached Boston about Christ- mas, 1679. Leverett, the sturdy Ironsides, had died six months before, and his place was filled by Simon Bradstreet, Simon a man of moderate powers but great integrity, and Bradstreet u^TJ • t , , o j' and his ^eld m peculiar reverence as the last survivor of ™f^ those that had been chosen to office before leaving England by the leaders of the great Puritan exodus. Born in a Lincolnshire village in 1603, he was now seventy-six years old. He had taken his degree at Emmanuel College, Cambridge, had served as secretary to the Earl of Warwick, THE TYRANNY OF ANDROS 289 and in 1629 had been appointed member of the board of assistants for the colony about to be established on Massa- chusetts bay. In this position he had remained with honour for half a century, while he had also served as Federal Com- missioner and as agent for the colony in London. His wife, who died in 1672, was a woman of quaint learning and quainter verses, which her con- temporaries admired beyond measure. One of her books was republished in London, with the title : " The Tenth Muse, lately sprung up in America." John Norton once Jtymt. ^y^'^^^u^ 290 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND said that if Virgil could only have heard the seraphic poems of Anne Bradstreet, he would have thrown his own heathen doggerel into the fire. She was sister of Joseph Dudley, and evidently inherited this rhyming talent from her father.^ Governor Bradstreet belonged to the moderate party who would have been glad to extend the franchise, but he did not go with his brother-in-law in subservience to the king. When the General Court assembled, in May, 1680, the full number of eighteen assistants appeared, for the first time in the history of the colony, and in accordance with an expressed wish of the king. They were ready to yield in trifles, but not in essentials. After wearisome discussion, the answer to the royal letter was decided on. It stated in Massachu- vaguc and unsatisfactory terms that the royal or- IwereThe ^^^^ °^ 1662 either had been carried out already ^"g or would be in good time, while to the demand for the surrender of Maine no reply whatever was made, save that "they were heartily sorry that any actings of theirs should be displeasing to his Majesty." After this, when Randolph wrote home that the king's letters were of no more account in Massachusetts than an old London Gazette, he can hardly be accused of stretching the truth. Randolph kept busily at work, and seems to have persuaded the Bishop ^ It is only fair to quote a characteristic specimen of Mrs. Brad- street's verse. In her poem, The Four Elements, Air speaks as follows : " Nay, what are words which do reveal the mind ? Speak who or what they will, tliey are but wind. Your drums', your trumpets', and your organs' sound, What is 't but forced air which doth rebound ? And such are echoes and report of th' gun That tells afar the exploit which it hath done. Your songs and pleasant tunes, they are the same, And so 's the notes wliich nightingales do frame. Ye forging smiths, if bellows once were gone, Your red-hot work more coldly would go on. Ye mariners, 't is I that fill your sails And speed you to your port with wished gales. When burning heat doth cause you faint, I cool ; And when 1 smile, your ocean 's like a pool. 1 help to ripe the corn, I turn the mill, And with myself I every vacuum fill,'; etc. —"^—} THE I TENTH MUSE » Lately fprurigup in i\MERicA. OR ^ • , Severall Poems, ,7t Boiytr;/ at the figne ot she |« Ribie in Popes He?d-A!lcy. if 50. ^ TITLE OF ANNE BRADSTRERT'S BOOK 292 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND of London that if the charter could be annulled, episcopacy might be established in Massachusetts as in England. In February, 1682, a letter came from the king demanding sub- mission and threatening legal proceedings against the char- ter. Dudley was then sent as agent to London, and with him was sent a Mr. Richards, of the extreme clerical party, to watch him. Meanwhile the king's position at home had been changing. He had made up his mind to follow his father's example and try the experiment of setting his people at defiance .and governing without a parliament. This could not be done without a great supply of mone)^ Louis XIV. had plenty of money, for there was no constitution in France to pre- vent his squeezing what he wanted out of the pockets of an oppressed people; France was thriving greatly now, for Colbert had introduced a comparatively free system of trade between the provinces and inaugurated an era of prosperity soon to be cut short by the expulsion of the Huguenots. Louis could get money enough for the asking, and would be delighted to foment civil disturbances in England, so as to tie the hands of the only power which at that moment could interfere with his seizing Alsace and Lorraine and invading Flanders. The pretty Louise de Keroualle, Duchess of Portsmouth, with her innocent baby face and heart as cold as any reptile's, was the French Delilah chosen to shear the locks of the British Samson. By such means and from such motives a secret treaty was made in February, 1681, by Secret ^hich Louis agreed to pay Charles 2,000,000 livres treaty down, and 500,000 more in each of the next two chrries" n. years, on condition that he should summon no more arid^Louis parliaments within that time. This bargain for securing the means of overthrowing the laws and liberties of England was, on the part of Charles II., an act no less reprehensible than some of those for which his father had gone to the block. But Charles could now afford for a while to wreak his evil will. He had already summoned a parliament for the 21st of March, to meet at Oxford within THE TYRANNY OF ANPROS 293 the precincts of the subservient university, and out of reach of the high-spirited freemen of London. He now forced a quarrel with the new parHament and dissolved it within a week. A joiner named Stephen College, who had spoken his mind too freely in the taverns at Oxford with regard to these proceedings, was drawn and quartered. The Whig leader, Lord Shaftesbuiy, was obliged to flee to Holland. In the absence of a parliament the only power of organized resistance to the king's tyranny resided in the corporate governments of the chartered towns. The charter shameful of London was accordingly attacked by a writ of fngnn*^'" quo warranto, and in June, 1683, t^^ time-serving England judges declared it confiscated. George Jeffreys, a low drunken fellow whom Charles had made Lord Chief Justice,, 294 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND went on a circuit through the country ; and, as Roger North says, "made all the charters, like the walls of Jericho, fall down before him, and returned laden with surrenders, the spoils of towns." At the same time a terrible blow was dealt at two of the greatest Whig families in England. Lord William Russell, son of the Earl of Bedford, and Algernon Sidney, younger son of the Earl of Leicester, two of the purest patriots and ablest liberal leaders of the day, were tried on a false charge of treason and beheaded. By this quick succession of high-handed measures, the friends of law and liberty were for a moment disconcerted and paralyzed. In the frightful abasement of the courts of justice which these events so clearly showed, the freedom of Englishmen seemed threatened in its last stronghold. The doctrine of passive obedience to monarchs was preached in the pulpits and inculcated by the university of Oxford, which ordered the works of John Milton to be publicly burned. Sir Robert Filmer wrote that " not only in human laws, but even in divine, a thing may by the king be com- manded contrary to law, and yet obedience to such a com- mand is necessary." Charles felt so strong that in 1684 he flatly refused to summon a parliament. It was not long before the effects of all this were felt in New England. The mission of Dudley and his colleague Massachu- ^^^ fruitless. They returned to Boston, and Ran- settsie- dolph, who had followed them to London, now surrender followcd them back, armed with a writ of quo zvarranto which he was instructed not to serve until he should have given Massachusetts one more chance to humble herself in the dust. Should she modify her con- stitution to please a tyrant or see it trampled under foot 1 Recent events in England served for a solemn warning ; for the moment the Tories were silenced ; perhaps after all, the absolute rule of a king was hardly to be preferred to the sway of the Puritan clergy ; the day when the House of Commons sat still and wept seemed to have returned. A great town meeting was held in the Old South Meeting- 4fhCt^^ fm/le^^ THE TYRANNY OF ANDROS 29s House, and the moderator requested all who were for sur- rendering the charter to hold up their hands. Not a hand was lifted, and out from the throng a solitary voice ex- claimed, with deep-drawn breath, " The Lord be praised ! " Then arose Increase Mather, president of Harvard College, and reminded them how their fathers did win this charter, and should they deliver it up unto the nuiLdby spoiler who demanded it " even as Ahab required chancer^, Naboth's vineyard, Oh ! their children would be J^^e 21, bound to curse them." Such was the attitude of Massachusetts, and when it was known in London, the blow 296 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND was struck. For technical reasons Randolph's writ was not served ; but on the 21st of June a decree in chancery annulled the charter of Massachusetts. To appreciate the force of this blow we must pause for a moment and consider what it involved., The right to the soil of North America had been hitherto regarded in Eng- land, on the strength of the discoveries of the Cabots, as an appurtenance to the crown of Henry VII., — as something which descended from father to son like the palace at Hamp- ton Court or the castle at Windsor, but which the sovereign might alienate by his voluntary act just as he might sell or give away a piece of his royal domain in England. Over this vast territory it was doubtful how far Parliament was entitled to exercise authority, and the rights of English- men settled there had theoretically no security save in the provisions of the various charters by which the annulling crown had delegated its authority to individual the charter . , , ' . , . y. . , proprietors or to private companies. It was thus on the charter granted by Charles I. to the Company of Massachusetts Bay that not only the cherished political and ecclesiastical institutions of the colony, but even the titles of individuals to their lands and houses, were supposed to be founded. By the abrogation of the charter, all rights and immunities that had been based upon it were at once swept away, and every rood of the soil of Massachusetts became the personal property of the Stuart king, who might, if he should possess the will and the power, turn out all the present occupants or otherwise deal with them as trespass- ers. Such at least was the theory of Charles II., and to show that he meant to wreak his vengeance with no gentle hand, he appointed as his viceroy the brutal Percy Kirke, — a man who would have no scruples about hanging a few citizens without trial, should occasion require it. But in February, 1685, just as Charles seemed to be get- ting everything arranged to his mind, a stroke of apoplexy carried him off the scene, and his brother ascended the throne. Monmouth's rebellion, and the horrible cruelties " THE TYRANNY OF ANDROS 297 that followed, kept Colonel Kirke busy in England through the summer, and left the new king scant leisure to think about America. Late in the autumn, having made up his mind that he could not spare such an exemplary knave as Kirke, James II. sent over Sir Edmund mund Andros. In the mean time the government of Massachusetts had been administered by Dudley, who showed 298 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND himself willing to profit by the misfortunes of his country. Andros had long been one of James's favourites. He was the dull and dogged English officer such as one often meets, honest enough and faithful to his master, neither cruel nor rapacious, but coarse in fibre and wanting in tact. Some years before, when governor of ~New York, he had a terri- torial dispute with Connecticut, and now cherished a grudge against the people of New England, so that, from James's point of view, he was well fitted to be their governor. James wished to abolish all the local governments in America, and unite them, as far as possible, under a single administration, in order to render their military strength more effective. With Plymouth there could be no trouble ; she had never THE CHARTER OAK had a charter, but had existed on sufferance from the outset. In 1687 the charters of Rhode Island and Connecticut were rescinded, but the decrees were not executed in due form. In October of that year Andros went to Hartford, to seize^ the Connecticut charter, but it was not surrendered. While THE TYRANNY OF ANDROS 299 Sir Edmund was bandying threats with stout Robert Treat, the queller of Indians and now governor of Con- The chai- necticut, in the course of their evening conference October the candles were suddenly blown out, and when 3i) 1687 after some scraping of tinder they were lighted again the document was nowhere to be found, for Captain Joseph Wadsworth had carried it away and hidden it in the hollow trunk of a mighty oak tree.^ Nevertheless for the moment the colony was obliged to submit to the tyrant. Next day the secretary, John Allyn, wrote "Finis" on the colonial records and shut up the book. Within another twelve- month New York and New Jersey were added to the vice- royalty of Andres ; so that all the northern colonies from the forests of Maine to the Delaware river were thus brought under the arbitrary rule of one man, who was responsible to no one but the king for whatever he might take it into his head to do. The vexatious character of the new government was most strongly felt at Boston, where Andros had his headquarters. Measures were at once taken for the erection of an Episco- pal church, and meantime the royal order was that „ . . . ■' . Episcopal one of the prmcipal meeting-houses should be services in seized for the use of the Church of England. This was an ominous beginning. In the eyes of the people it was much more than a mere question of disturbing Puritan prejudices. They had before them the experience of Scot- land during the past ten years, the savage times of "Old Mortality," the times which had seen the tyrannical prelate, on the lonely moor, begging in vain for his life, the times of Drumclog and Bothwell Brigg, of Claverhouse and his flinty-hearted troopers, of helpless women tied to stakes on the Solway shore and drowned by inches in the rising tide. What had happened in one part of the world might happen ^ The venerable Charter Oak remained one of the historic landmarks of Hartford until August 20, 1856, when it was blown down in a gale. 300 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND sSa^^J^ rvx^i^ in another, for the Stuart poHcy was the same. It aimed not at securing toleration but at asserting unchecked su- premacy. Its demand for an inch -v^as the prelude to its seizing an ell, and so our forefathers understood it. Sir Edmund's formal demand for the Old South Meeting-House was flatly refused, but on Good Friday, 1687, the sexton was frightened into opening it, and thenceforward Episcopal services were held there alternately with the regular services until the overthrow of Andros. The pastor, Samuel Willard, was son of the gallant veteran who had rescued the belea- THE TYRANNY OF ANDROS 30 1 guered people of Brookfield in King Philip's war.i Amusing passages occurred between him and: Sir Edmund, who rel- ished the pleasantry of keeping minister and congregation waiting an hour or two in the street, on Sundays before yielding to them the use of their meeting-house. More kindly memories of the unpopular governor are associated with the building of the first King's Chapel on the spot where its venerable successor now stands. The p-Q^nding church was not finished until after Sir Edmund pf.the Kings had taken his departure, but Lady Andros, who chapei, died in February, 1688, lies in the burying-ground '^ ^ hard by. Her gentle manners had won all hearts. ' For the moment, we are told, one touch of nature made enemies kin, and as Sir Edmund walked to the town-house " many a head was bared to the bereaved husband that before had remained stubbornly cov- ered to the exalted gov- ernor." ^ The despotic rule of Andros was felt in more serious ways than in the seizing upon a meeting- house. Arbitrary taxes were imposed, encroach- ments were made Tyranny upon common lands as in older rnanorial times, and the writ of habeas corpus was suspended. Dudley was appointed censor of the press, and nothing was allowed 1 He was president, of Harvard (with the anomalous title of vice- president, adopted for a diplomatic reason) from 1700 to 1707. His great-grandson, Joseph Willard, astronomer and Hellenist, was presir dent of Harvard from 1781 to 1804. See Quincy's History of Harvard University, i. 145 ; ii. 244-283. ^ The quotation is from an unpublished letter of Rev. Robert Rat- cliffe to the Bishop of London, cited in an able article in the Boston Herald, January 4, 1888. I have not seen the letter. OLD king's chapel (i 302 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND to be printed without his permission. All the public records of the late New England governments were ordered to be brought to Boston, whither it thus became necessary to make a tedious journey in order to consult them. All deeds and wills were required to be registered in Boston, and excessive fees were charged for the registry. It was pro- claimed that all private titles to land were to be ransacked, and that whoever wished to have his title confirmed must pay a heavy quit-rent, which under the circumstances amounted to blackmail. The General Court was abolished. The power of taxation was taken from the town meetings and lodged with the governor. Against this crowning iniquity the town of Ipswich, led by its sturdy pastor, John Wise, made protest. In response Mr. Wise was thrown into prison, fined £s'^> and suspended from the ministry. A notable and powerful character was this John Wise. One of the broadest thinkers John Wise ^^^ "^°^^ ^^'^^'^ writers of his time, he seems like of Ipswich a forerunner of the liberal Unitarian divines of the nineteenth century. His "Vindication of the Government of the New England Churches," published in 171 7, was a masterly exposition of the principles of civil government, and became " a text book of liberty for our Revolutionary fathers, containing some of the notable expressions that are used in the Declaration of Independence." It was on the trial of Mr. Wise in October, 1687, that Dudley openly declared that the people of New England had now no further privileges left them than not to be sold for slaves. Such a state of things in the valley of the ^ ^ /^y^'^^ Euphrates would not have (jj^j/^lf^^ ,^^^^^^ attracted comment ; the peas- antry of central Europe would have endured it until better instructed ; but in an English community it could not last long. If James II. had remained upon the throne, New England would surely have soon risen in rebellion against Andros. But the mother-country had by this time come to repent the fresh lease of life which she had granted to the THE TYRANNY OF ANDROS 303 Stuart dynasty after Cromwell's death. Tired of the dis- graceful subservience of her Court to the schemes paHof of Louis XIV., tired of fictitious plots and judicial James 11. murders, tired of bloody assizes and declarations of indul- gence and all the strange devices of Stuart tyranny, Eng- land endured the arrogance of James but three years, and then drove him across the Channel, to get such consolation as he might from his French paymaster and patron. On the 4th of April, 1689, the youthful John Winslow brought to Boston the news of the landing of the Prince of Orange in England. For the space of two weeks there was quiet 304 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND and earnest deliberation among the citizens, as the success of the Prince's enterprise was not yet regarded as assured. But all at once, on the morning of the i8th, the drums beat to arms, the signal-fire was lighted on Beacon Hill, a meet- ing was held at the Town-House, militia began to pour in from the country, and Andros, summoned to sur- lnsurr6C~ '-*•■** *- j f tioninBos- render, was fain to beseech Mr. Willard and the overthrow other ministers to intercede for him. But the Aprinsr ministers refused. Next day the Castle was sur- '^^9 ' rendered, the Rose frigate riding in the harbour was seized and dismantled, and Andros was arrested as he GREAT SEAL OF NEW ENGLAND UNDER ANDROS was trying to effect his escape disguised in woman's clothes. Dudley and the other agents of tyranny were also impris- oned, and thus the revolution was accomplished. It marks the importance which the New England colonies were be- ginning to attain, that, before the Prince of Orange had fully secured the throne, he issued a letter instructing the people of Boston to preserve decorum and acquiesce yet a little longer in the government of Andros, until more satis- factory arrangements could be made. But Increase Mather, who was then in London on a mission in behalf of New THE TYRANNY OF ANDROS 305 England, judiciously prevented this letter of instructions from being sent. The zeal of the people outstripped the cautious policy of the new sovereign, and provisional govern- ments, in accordance with the old charters, were at once set up in the colonies lately ruled by Andros. Bradstreet, now in his eighty-seventh year, was reinstated as governor of Massachusetts. Five weeks after this revolution in Boston # ■■m''&i'^MH ORIGINAL TOWN-HOUSE OF BOSTON {CIE. 1658) the order to proclaim King William and Queen Mary was received, amid such rejoicings as had never before been seen in that quiet town, for it was believed that self-government would now be guaranteed to New England. This hope was at least so far realized that from the most 3o6 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND formidable dangers which had threatened it, New England Effects of was henceforth secured. The struggle with the lution^r Stuarts was ended, and by this second revolution 1689 within half a century the crown had received a check from which it never recovered. There were troubles yet in store for England, but no more such outrages as the judicial murders of Russell and Sidney. New England had still a stern ordeal to go through, but never again was she to be so trodden down and insulted as in the days of Andros. The THE TYRANNY OF ANDROS 307 efforts of George III. to rule Englishmen despotically were weak as compared with those of the Stuarts. In his time England had waxed strong ehough to curb the tyrant, America had waxed strong enough to defy and disown him. .After 1689 the Puritan no longer felt that his religion was in danger, and there was a reasonable prospect that charters solemnly granted him would be held sacred. William III. was a sovereign of modern type, from whom freedom of thought and worship had nothing to fear. In his theology he agreed, as a Dutch Calvinist, more nearly with the Puri- tans than with the Church of England. At the same time he had no great liking for so much independence of thought and action as New England had exhibited. In the negotia- tions which now definitely settled the affairs of this part of the world, the intractable behaviour of Massachusetts was borne in mind and contrasted with the somewhat less irritat- ing attitude of the smaller colonies. It happened that the decree which annulled the charters of Rhode Island and Connecticut had not yet been formally enrolled. It was accordingly treated as void, and the old charters were alloVed to remain in force. They were so liberal that no change in them was needed at the time of the Revolution, so that Connecticut was governed under its old charter until 1818, and Rhode Island until 1842. There was at this time a disposition on the part of the British government to unite all the northern colo- „ nies under a single administration. The French "nion in Canada were fast becoming rivals to be feared ; th^°nfrth- and the wonderful explorations of La Salle, bring- "°™i™'«^ ing the St. Lawrence into political connection with the Mis- sissippi, had at length foreshadowed a New France in the rear of all the English colonies, aiming at the control of the centre of the continent and eager to confine the English to the seaboard. Already the relations of position which led to the great Seven Years' War were beginning to shape themselves ; and the conflict between France and England actually broke out in 1689, as soon as Louis XIV.'s hired 3o8 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND servant, James II., was superseded by William III. as king of England and head of a Protestant league. In view of this new state of affairs, it was thought desir- able to unite the northern English colonies under one head, so far as possible, in order to secure unity of military action. But natural prejudices had to be considered. The policy of James II. had aroused such bitter feeling in America that William must needs move with caution. Accordingly he did GOVERNORS OF PLYMOUTH COLONY not seek to unite New York with New England, and he did not think it worth while to carry out the attack which James had only begun upon Connecticut and Rhode Island. As for New Hampshire, he feeems to have been restrained by what in the language of modern politics would be called "pressure," brought to bear by certain local interests.^ But in the case of the little colony founded by the Pilgrims of the Mayflower there was no obstacle. She was now annexed to Mas- sachusetts, which also received not only Maine but even ^ Doyle, Puritati Colonies, ii. 379, 380. Plymouth, Maine, and Acadia an- nexed to Massachu- setts ' v^y mmii fi^frtti*/*.f I.'rt»-J!.m .Vi H^«i :>l-.-att' r.:.Tl< /■ —^rj^+J^ *^'^ , '.t«<> otF"^ IF^m tt>i'ivrf .-f'tnjt^iH'ffa'' TU' jtaiy jfilTiilip/ rt^v T.Ttt' ■>»{■ ■Tlf_ ,vnf lMi-t« Hiy^.- ^. '■ - , -iHiiii H** ^JMi . Hir J„ I Tifl .WiP t^ill , f glm^ihllwntf irlTrtg fiuto'w^Mift.tst^.^ *f^ tMt-^rl'i^tun- fui'^-ti^V^ r ^".^l■.l*±V<'^f■rH f ■^^J■^l»l■fh"=-^y' ?.-f V^ lp- fNv v riw- C'-«o*r ^ ii>WR/ trHv* s^^^^*^^ rfJ iN i-Htf ffr.-.-\'nitf ■Ht.im^Kjt.i -^ rnnU>::J^ ^ ^1 lurtKiu^ i>;>iii >i.Ttfaio>i\:oTi-7fe- ar iil^OXi ' H> h'li'* At* .Tt .tw ^ ^ j 182-186, 235, 237, 241, 263. Monadnock, ni. Monmouth, Duke of, 107, 288, 296. Montesquieu, 45. Moutfort, Simon de, 26, 27 ; seal of, 25. Monrs in Spain, 9, 30. Morton, Thomas, 95, 9S no, 117, 187; fac- simile of title-page of his " New English Ca- naan,"' 9^; antosraph, 95; facsimile of title- page of his " New England's Memorial," 232. Mount Hope, 242, 243.^, "Mourt's Relation," facsimile title-page of, 100. "Mugwump " in Eliot^s Bible, 230. Miinster, 207. Nantasket, 96. Names, Edict of, 39, 153. Nantucket, 228, 233. Napoleon, 41. Narragansett campaign of 1675, map of, 251. Narragansett Fort, storming of, 253. Narragan setts, 86, 88> 131, 142; 144, 181-186, 235) 237, 241, 248-254, 262. Naseby, hattle of, 26, 46, 221. Natick, Indian village, 233, 242. Nation-making, 6, 30. Naumkeag, 97, loi. Navigation laws, 282, 283. Netherlands, 29. New Amsterdam, 132, 225. * Newark founded, 225. Newbury, Spencer-Pierce house in, 175. New England, great seal of, under Andros, 304- New England, map of, i ; Smith's, 82, 83 ; Wood's, 138, 139; Hubbard's, 268, 269. " New England's Jonas cast up at London," I go, 191. *' New England's Memorial," Morton's, fac- simile title-page of. 232. New England's Plantation, Higginson's, fac- , simile title-page of, 94. "New England's Salamander discovered," "New English Canaan," Morton's, facsimile title-page of, 93. New Hampshire, beginnings of, 129, 168, 287, 306. New Haven colony, 145-14S; annexed to Con- necticut, 221-225. " New Haven's bettling," facsimile title-page of, 147- Newhouse, Thomas, 207. New Netherland, 131. Newport, R. I., 129, 172, 180. Njsw South Church, 279. New Town, see Cambridge, Mass. Nichewaug, 131. Nichols, Richard, 212, 224, 288. Nipmutks, 131, 237, 241, 243,247, 254, 257, 262. Noddle's Is'and, 96, 188. Norfolk, 58. Norman conquest of England, 25. North, Ro^er, 294. North Virginia, 73-76. Northampton, 262. Norton, John, 20^, 204, 278, 289; autograph, 206; facsimile title-page of his " Heart of New England Rent," 209. Norwich, scene of Miantonomo's defeat, 183. Nyantics, 130, 143. Odovakar, i, 3j 4i- Ojibways, 2^0. Oldham. John, no, 135, 140. " Old Mortality," 299. Old South Church, 262, 279, 294, 300. Order creating the Board of Selectmen of Charlestown, facsimile of, 128, 129. Order naming Boston, facsimile of, 113. Orestes, i. Oriental method of nation-making, 8,9, 1 1, i7» 18. Otis, James, 310. Oxford university, 56, 118, 294; parliament, Psedobaptists, ig8. Paine, Thomas, 273. Painter, Thomas, 195. 326 INDEX Palfrey, J. C, 153, 200,' 223, 228, note. Papacy, 3, 28. Parkmaii, F., 235, note^ 241- ^, , ^ Parliament turned out of doors by Charies I., 107 ; creates a board of commissioners for superintending colonial affairs, 172 ; ques- tion as to its authority over the colonies, ' 17-^-176, 187, 188. Pauhcians, :-i2. Pawtuxet, r8o, 181, 182,263. Pembroke, Earl of, 92. Penn, William, 219, 234. Pennsylvania, why so long unmolested by In- dians, 234, 235. Penobscot river, 74- Pension jobbery, 12. Pepys, Samuel, 207. Pequot'Fort, plan of, 144, 145. Pequots, 131, 140-142, 183, 227, 233, 236, 238. Persecuting spirit, origin of, 176. Persecution, mildness of, in England, 33-35* Persia, 8, 10, 17. Petition of Right, 104, 106. Peters, Hugh, 126 ; caricature, 128. Peters, Rev. Samuel, 148. " Peveril of the Peak," 245. Philip Augustus, 33. Philip II., of Spain. 29, 51, 56; portrait and autograph, 31. Philip (M eta com), 240-244, 257-265,268; Paid Revere's fanciful portrait of, 239 ; his mark, 240 ; his son, 261, 264. Phips, Sir William, first royal governor of Massachusetts, autograph of, 309. Picton, J, A., 107. Pierce, Captain, 263. Pierson, Abraham, 225; autograph, 225. Pig, Keayne's, 114-116. Pi^ims, Mayflower, autographs of, 85 ; relics of, 89. Pilgrims at Leyden, 69, 76-78. Pine-tree shillings, 219, 220, 281. * Piscataqua river, g6,ior, 130, 287. Pitt, William, 41. _ Plymouth, Eng., 82; view of house in which Pilgrims were entertained, 156. Plymouth Company, 70, 73, 74, 82, 88, 92. Plymouth colony, 76, 82, no; popiilation of, 88 ; annexed to Massachusetts, 308. Plymouth governors, autographs of, 30S. Plymouth Harbour, map of, 84. Podunka, 237. Point Judith, 130. Pokanokets, see Wampanoags. Pontiac's war, 235,240. Popham, Sir John, portrait and autograph, 75. Popham colony, 74, 82. Portland, Oregon, 153. Portsmouth, N. H., 129, 287. Portsmouth, R. I., 129, 172, 180. Preemunire, 36, Pray, Mary, 248, Praying Indians, 233, 248, 266. Presbyterian cabal, 176, 188-192 Presbyterianism, 60, 63, 65. " Pride's Purge," 191. Primitive society, 7. Protective tariffs, 12,26. Protestantism, beginnings of, 30-35. Providence, R. I., 129, 172, 180, 181, 182, 186, Puritanism as a militant force, 6, 38, 39, 45, 52, 271-274. Pym, John, 45; portrait and autograph, 45. Pynchon, William, 136; portrait and auto- graph, 137; facsimile of title-page -of his *• Meritorious Price," 194. Quakers, 176, 186; their opinions, 205-207; persecuted in Boston, 208-218, 248; they win the victory, 218,225; why Charles II. defended them, 219; their relations to the Indians, 234, 235. Quincy, ^osiah, 119, note. Quinnipiack, 146. Quinsigamond, 131. Raleigh, Sir W., 76, no. Randolph, Edward, 245, 283-286, 290, 294; autograph, 282. Ralciiffe, Robert, 301, note. Rationalistic spirit among the Puritans of New England and Scotland, 164-166. Redemptioners, 154. Reformation in England, 35-5^* Regicide judges, 221-223, 245, 284. Religious liberty not the motive of the Puritan exodus, 159, 160. , Representation, no taxation without, 26, 112. Representative assemblies unknown to the ancients, 13, 18 ; found generally among the Teutonic tribes, 2 1 ; die out on the conti- nent of Europe, 27. ' Republicans and abolitionists, 61. Republics, fallacy of the notion that they must be small, 19. Respectable character of the migration to New England, 154. Restitution, edict of, 108. Revere, Paul, fanciful portrait of King Philip, 239- Rhode Island, toleration in, 168, 170; asks for a charter, 170; noble attitude with reference to Quakers, 21 1-213 ; obtains a charter, 224 ; it is partly rescinded, 299 ; restored, 307. Ribault, Jean, 56. Rich, Sir N., 106. Richard II., 35,67. Roanoke island, 120. Robinson, John, 67, 68,69, J^^! autograph, 68. Robinson, William, 214. Robsart, Amy, 109. Rochelle, fall of, 98, 107. Roman church, 14-16, jr. Roman empire, when did it come to an end, i-4j 41-43- Roman method of nation-making, lo-i^. Romulus Augustulus, i ; coin of, i. Roses, war of the, 29, 50, 106. Rosier's "True Relation," facsimile title-page of, 72. Rousseau, J. J., 45. Rowlandson, Joseph, 257. Rowlandsbn, Mary, 258-262, 264; facsimile of title-page of her " Captivity," 259. Royal Commissioners, autographs of, 224. Royal Society founded, 223. Rumford, Count, 4 ; portrait and autograph, g. Russell, Lord William, 294, 306. Sachem's Plain, 185. St. Giles's Church, Edinburgh, 122, Salem, Mass., 97, loi, iTo, 116, 121, 124, 125, 273- Salem, Oregon, 153. Saltonstall, Sir Richard, 200; portrait and ' autograph, 201. ■ Sandys, Sir E., 78; portrait and autograph, 81. INDEX 327 Sassacus, 140-142, 143, 144, 241. Sausamon, 241, 242. Savoy, 34,41. Say-aud-Sele, Lord, 132. Saybrook, 133, 135. Scituate, 188, 262. Scotland, great achievements of, 166. SCk