Skip to main content

Full text of "The beginnings of New England; or, The Puritan theocracy in its relations to civil and religious liberty"

See other formats 


SITY  O 
AT   LOS  ANGELES 


Digitized  by  tine  Internet  Arciiive 

in  2007  witii  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


littp://www.arcli  ive.org/details/beginningsofneweOOfiskiala 


»520      1  1 


THE  BEGINNINGS  OF 
NEW  ENGLAND 

OB 

THE   PUKITAN  THEOCRACY   IN 

ITS  RELATION  TO  CIVIL 

AND  RELIGIOUS 

LIBERTY 

BY 

JOHN  FISKE 


The  Lord  CbriBt  intends  to  achieve  greater  matters  by 
this  little  handful  than  the  world  is  aware  of.  —  Edwaho 
JoHSBOx,  Wonder- Working  Providence  oj  ZiorCt  Saviour 
in  New  England.    1694. 


BOSTON  AND  NEW  YORK 
HOUGHTON  MIFFLIN  COMPANY 


S  >  4  i  :) 


COPYRIGHT,    1889,    BY  JOHN   FISKK 
COPYRIGHT,    I917,    BY    ABBY    M.    FISKB 

ALL   RIGHTS    RESERVED 


To 

UT  DEAR  CLASSMATB3, 

BENJAMIN  THOMPSON  FROTHINGHAM, 

WILLIAM  AUGUSTUS  WHITE, 

Aia> 

FREDERIC  CROMWELL, 

S  betrtcatt  ttti^  ISodu 


PREFACE. 


This  book  contains  the  substance  of  the  lectures 
originally  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  lecture^ere  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,  Springfield,  and  Pittsfield,  Mass. 
Farmington,  Middletown,  and  Stamford,  Conn. ; 
New  York,  Brooklyn,  and  Tarrytown,  N.  Y. ;  Phil- 
adelphia and  Ogontz,  Pa. ;  Wilmington,  Del.  ; 
Chicago,  111. ;  San  Francisco  and  Oakland,  Cal. 

Li  this  sketch  of  the  circumstances  which  at> 
tended  the  settlement  of  New  England,  I  have  pur- 
posely 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  Revolu- 


(T 


vi  PREFACE. 

tion  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,  en- 
titled "  The  Emancipation  of  Massachusetts." 
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  con- 
siderably modified  and  perhaps  somewhat  more 
adequately  presented  by  enlarging  the  field  of  view. 
In  forming  historical  judgments  a  great  deal  de- 
pends upon  our  perspective.  Out  of  the  very  im- 
perfect human  nature  which  is  so  slowly  and  pain- 
fully 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  satis- 
factory 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  dis- 
cerned by  a  few  of  the  keenest  and  boldest  spirits. 
The  faults  of  the  Puritan  theocracy,  which  found 
its  most  complete  development  in  Massachusetts, 
are  so  glaring  that  it  is  idle  to  seek  to  palliate  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,  we  must  endeavour  to 
distinguish  and  define  the  elements  of  wholesome 


PREFACE.  vu 

strength  in  tliat  theocracy  no  less  than  its  elements 
of  crudity  and  weakness. 

The  first  chapter,  on  "  The  Roman  Idea  and  the 
English  Idea,"  contains  a  somewhat  more  devel- 
oped statement  of  the  points  briefly  indicated  in 
the  thirteenth  section  (pp.  85-95)  of  "  The  Des- 
tiny 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. 

THK  ROMAN  IDEA  AND  THE   ENOLISH  IDEA. 

Wben  did  the  Roman  Empire  come  to  an  end  ?    .         .         .  1-3 

Meaning  of  Odovakar's  work 8 

The  Holy  Roman  Empire      .         .         .         .         .         .         •  4,  5 

Gradual  shifting  of  primacy  from  the  men  who  spoke  Latin, 

and  their  descendants,  to  the  men  who  speak  English  .  6-8 
Political  history  is  the  history  of  nation-making  .  .  .  8,  9 
The  Oriental  method  of  nation-making ;  conquest  without 

incorporation .       9 

niostrations  from  eastern  despotisms 10 

And  from  the  Moors  in  Spain  ......     11 

The  Rohan  method  of  nation-making ;  conquest  with  incor- 

poration,  but  without  r^tresentation 12 

Its  slow  development 13 

Vices  in  the  Roman  system 14 

Its  f andamental  defect    ........     15 

It  knew  nothing  of  political  power  delegated  hy  the  people 

to  representatives 16 

And  therefore  the  expansion  of  its  dominion  ended  in  a  cen- 
tralized despotism 16 

Which  entailed  the  danger  that  human  life  might  come  to 

stagnate  in  Europe,  as  it  had  done  in  Asia .         .         .         .17 
^e  danger  was  warded  off  by  the  Germanic  invasions,  which, 
however,  threatened  to  undo  the  work  which  the  Empire 
had  done  in  organizing  European  society     .         .         .         .17 
But  such  disintegration  was  prevented  by  the  sway  which 
the  Roman  Church  had  come  to  exercise  oyer  the  European 

mind 18 

The  wonderful  thirteenth  century 19 

The  Enqljbh  method  of  nation-making ;  incorporation  with 
npruentation )0 


X  CONTENTS. 

Pacific  tendencies  of  federalism 21 

Failure  of  Greek  attempts  at  federation  .  .  .  .22 
Fallacy  of  the  notion  that  republics  must  be  small  .  .  23 
"  It  is  not  the  business  of  a  government  to  support  its  peo- 
ple, but  of  the  people  to  support  their  government  "  .24 
Teutonic  March-meetings  and  representative  assemblies  .  25 
Peculiarity  of  the  Teutonic  conquest  of  Britain  .  .  26,  27 
Survival  and  development  of    the  Teutonic  representative 

assembly  in  England 28 

Primitive  Teutonic  institutions  less  modified  in  England  than 

in  Germany 29 

Some  effects  of  the  Norman  conquest  of  England  .         .    30 

The  Barons'  War  and  the  first  House  of  Commons  .  .  31 
Eternal  vig^anoe  is  the  price  of  liberty  .         .         .         .32 

Conflict  between  Roman  Idea  and  English  Idea  begins  to  be- 
come clearly  visible  in  the  thirteenth  century     .         .         .33 
Decline  of  mediaeval  Empire  and  Church  with  the  growth  of 

modem  nationalities 34 

Overthrow  of  feudalism,  and  increasing  power  of  the  crown  35 
Formidable  strength  of  the  Roman  Idea  .  .  .  .36 
Had  it  not  been  for  the  Puritans,  political  liberty  would 

probably  have  disappeared  from  the  world  .  .  .37 
Beginnings  of  Protestantism  in  the  thirteenth  century  .  .  38 
The  Cathari,  or  Puritans  of  the  Eastern  Empire    .         .         .39 

The  Albigenses 40 

Effects  of  persecution ;  its  feebleness  in  England .         .         .41 

Wyclif  and  the  Lollards 42 

Political  character  of  Henry  VIII. 's  revolt  against  Rome     .     43 
The  yeoman  Hugh  Latimer    .......     44 

The  moment  of  Cromwell's  triumph  was  the  most  critical 

moment  in  history 45 

Contrast  with  France ;  fate  of  the  Huguenots        .         .       46,  47 

Victory  of  the  English  Idea 48 

Significance  of  the  Puritan  Bxodus 49 

CHAPTER  IL 

THE   PUBITAN  EXODUS. 

Infinenee  of  Puritanism  upon  modem  Europe         .         .       50,  51 

Work  of  the  Lollards 52 

They  made  the  Bible  the  first  truly  popular  literature  in 

England 53,  54 

The  English  version  of  the  Bible 54,  55 


CONTENTS.  xi 

Secret  of  Henry  Vlll-'s  swift  Bnocess  in  hie  reyolt  against 

Rome 66 

Effects  of  the  persecution  under  Mary 57 

Calvin's  theology  in  its  political  bearings        .        .         .       58,  59 

Elizabeth's  policy  and  its  effects 60,  61 

Puritan  sea-rovers  . 61 

Geographical  distribution  of  Puritanism  in  England ;  it  was 

strongest  in  the  eastern  counties 62 

Preponderance  of  East  Anglia  in  the  Puritan  exodus  .  .  63 
Familiar  features  of  East  Anglia  to  the  visitor  from  New 

England 64 

Puritanism  was  not  intentionally  allied  with  liberalism  .     65 

Robert  Brown  and  the  Separatists 66 

Persecution  of  the  Separatists 67 

Recantation  of  Brown  ;  it  was  reserved  for  William  Brewster 

to  take  the  lead  in  the  Puritan  exodus     ...             .68 
James  Stuart,  and  his  encounter  with  Andrew  Melville          .     69 
What  James  intended  to  do  when  he  became  King  of  England     70 
His  view  of  the  political  situation,  as  declared  in  the  confer- 
ence at  Hampton  Court 71 

The  congregation  of  Separatists  at  Scrooby  .  .  .  .72 
The  flight  to  Holland,  and  settlement  at  Leyden  in  1609  .  73 
Systematic  legal  toleration  in  Holland  .         .         .         .74 

Why  the  Pilgrims  did  not  stay  there ;  they  wished  to  keep 

up  their  distinct  organization  and  found  a  state  .         .     74 

And  to  do  this  they  must  cross  the  ocean,  because  European 
territory  was  all  preoccupied        ......     76 

The  London  and  Plymouth  companies 75 

first  explorations  of  the  New  England  coast ;  Bartholomew 

Gosnold  (1602),  and  George  Weymouth  (1605)   .         .       ^     76 
The  Popham  colony  (1607)  .         .         .        >.         ^      r^     77 

Captain  John  Smith  gives  to  New  England  its  name  (1614)  .  78 
The  Pilgrims  at  Leyden  decide  to  make  a  settlement  near 

the  Delaware  river       .         ^        »        v        »        »        •,        -*79, 
How  King  James  regarded  the  enterprise       ...         .80 
Voyage  of  the  Majrflower  ;  she  goes  astray  and  takes  the  Pil- 
grims to  Cape  Cod  bay 81 

Founding  of  the  Plymouth  colony  (1620)        .         .         .       82,  83 
Why  the  Indians  did  not  molest  the  settlers  .         .         .       84,  85 
The  chief  interest  of  this  beginning  of  the  Puritan  exodus  lies 
not  so  much  in  what  it  achieved  as  in  what  it  suggested     86,  87 


xn  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  m. 

THB  PLANTING  OF  NBW  BNOLAND. 

Sir  Ferdinando  Gorges  and  the  Council  for  New  England     88,  88 

Wessag^usset  and  Merrymoont 90,  91 

The  Dorchester  adventurers 92 

John  White  wishes  to  "  raise  a  bulwark  against  the  Kingdom 

of  Antichrist 93 

And  John  Endicott  undertakes  the  work  of  building  it .        .94 
Conflicting  grants  sow  seeds  of  trouble ;  the  Gorges  and  Ma- 
son claims 94,  95 

Endicott' s  arrival  in  New  England,  and  the  founding  of  Salem  95 
The  Company  of  Massachusetts  Bay;  Francis  Higginson 

takes  a  powerfid  reinforcement  to  Salem    .         .         .         .96 
The  development  of  John  White's  enterprise  iato  the  Com- 
pany of  Massachusetts  Bay  coincided  vrith  the  first  four 

years  of  the  reign  of  Charles  1 97 

Extraordinary  scene  in  the   House    of   Commons   (June   5, 

1628) 98,  99 

The  King  turns  Parliament  out  of  doors  (March  2,  1629)       .  100 

Desperate  nature  of  the  crisis 100,  101 

The  meeting  at  Cambridge  (Aug.  26,  1629),  and  decision  to 
transfer  the  charter  of  the  Massachusetts  Bay  Company, 
and  the  government  established  under  it,  to  New  England  .  102 
Leaders  of  the  g^reat  migration ;  John  Winthrop  .         .         .  102 

And  Thomas  Dudley 103 

Founding  of  Massachusetts ;  the  schemes  of  Gorges  over- 
whelmed       104 

Beginnings  of  American  constitutional  history  ;  the  question 
as  to  self-government  raised  at  Watertown  .         .         .  105 

Representative  system  established 106 

Bicameral  assembly ;  story  of  the  stray  pig  .  .  .  .107 
Ecclesiastical  polity ;  the  triumph  of  Separatism  .  .  .  108 
Restrictign  of  the  suffrage  to  members  of  the  Puritan  con- 

gregatmnal  churches 109 

Founding  of  Harvard  College 110 

Threefold  danger  to  the  New  England  settlers  in  16.36  :  — 

1.  From  the  King,  who  prepares  to  attack  the  charter,  but 

is  foiled  by  dissensions  at  home   .         .         .        •  111-113 

2.  From  religious  dissensions  ;  Roger  Williams  .  114-116 
Henry  Vane  and  Anne  Hutchinson  ....  116-119 
B^^innings  of  New  Hampshire  and  Rhode  Island    .  119-120 


CONTENTS,  xa» 

8.  From  the  Indi&iis ;  the  Peqnot  supremaey     .        .        .  121 
Plist  movements  into  the  Connecticut  valley,  and  diapntea 

with  the  Dutch  settlers  of  New  Amsterdam        .         .  122,  123 
Restriction  of  the  suffrage  leads  to  disaffection  in  Massachu- 
setts; profoundly  interesting  opinions  of  Winthrop   and 

Hooker 123,  124 

Connecticut  pioneers  and  their  hardships  .  .  .  .125 
Thomas  Hooker,  and  the  founding  of  Connecticut  .  .  126 
The  Fundamental  Orders  of  Connecticut  (Jan.   14,  1639)  ; 

the  first  written  constitution  that  created  a  government      .  127 
Relations  of   Connecticut  to   the  genesis  of  the    Federal 

Union 128 

Origin  of  the  Pequot  War ;  Sassacus  tries  to  unite  the  Indian 

tribes  in  a  crusade  against  the  English        .         .         .129,  130 
The  schemes  of  Sassacus  are  foiled  by  Roger  Williams         .  130 

The  Pequots  take  the  war  path  alone 131 

And  are  exterminated 132-134 

John  Davenport,  and  the  founding  of  New  Haven  .  .  135 
New  Haven  legislation,  and  legend  of  the  "  Blue  Laws'*  .  136 
With  the  meeting  of  the  Long  Parliament,  in  1640,  the 

Puritan  exodus  comes  to  its  end         .....  137 
What  might  have  been 138,  391 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  NKW  ENOLAIO)  COKFEDKBACT. 

The  Puritan  exodus  was  purely  and  exclusively  English        .  140 
/  And   the  settlers  were  all  thrifty  and  prosperous ;    chiefly 
country  squires  and  yeomanry  of  the  best  and  sturdiest 
type m^     .        .   141,142 

In  all  history  there  has  been  no  other  ins^^H>f  colonization 
so  exclusively  effected  by  pickedJMd  chosen  men  .  143 

What,  then,  was  the  principle  of  semtion  ?     The  migration 
was  not  intended   to   promote    what  we  call   relte;ious 

liberty f  144,  145 

^  Theocratic  ideal  of  the  Puritans 146 . 

The  impulse  which  sought  to  realize  itself  in  the  Puritan 

ideal  was  an  ethical  impulse      ......  147^--^ 

In  interpreting  Scripture,    the    Puritan    appealed   to  his 
leason 148,  149 

Value  of  such  perpetual  theological  diaouasion  aa  was  car- 
ried on  in  early  New  England 150,  151 


xvr  CONTENTS, 

Comparison  with  the  history  of  Scotland       ....  152 
Bearing  of  these  considerations  upon  the  history  of  the  New 

England  confederacy 153 

(The  existence  of  so  many  colonies  (Plymouth,  Massachu- 
setts, Connecticut,   New  Haven,   Rhode   Island,   the  Pis- 
,    cataqua  towns,  etc.)  was  due  to  differences  of  opinion  on 

questions  in  which  men's  religious  ideas  were  involved  .  154 
And  this  multiplication  of  colonies  led  to  a  notable  and  sig- 
nificant attempt  at  confederation 155 

Turbulence  of  dissent  in  Rhode  Island  ....  156 

The  Earl  of  Warwick,  and  his  Board  of  Conmiissioners        .  157 
Csnstitution  of  the  Confederacy     ......  158 

It  was  only  a  league,  not  a  federal  unioit        ....  159 

Its  formation  involved  a  tacit  assumption  of  sovereignty         .  160 
The  fall  of  Charles  I.  brought  up,  for  a  moment,  the  ques- 
tion as  to  the  supremacy  of  Parliament  over  the  colonies    .  161 

Some  interesting  questions 162 

Genesis  of  the  persecuting  spirit    ...         ...  163 

Samuel  Gorton  and  his  opinions     .....    163-165 

He  flees  to  Aquedneck  and  is  banished  thence       .        .         •  166 
Providence  protests  against  him     ......  167 

He  flees  to  Shawomet,  where  he  buys  land  of  the  Indians     .  168 

Miantonomo  and  Uncas .   169,  170 

Death  of  Miantonomo 171 

Edward  Johnson  leads  an  expedition  against  Shawomet         .  172 

Trial  and  sentence  of  the  heretics 173 

Winthrop  declares  himself  in  a  prophetic  opinion .         .         .174 

The  Presbyterian  cabal 175-177 

The  Cambridge  Platform ;  deaths  of  Winthrop  and  Cotton     .  177 
Views  of  Winthrop  and  Cotton  as  to  toleration  in  matters  of 

religion  dtj^ ^"^^ 

After  their  death,1|^B'adership  in  Massachnsetts  was  in  the 

hands  of  Endicott  and  l!iMtton    .        .         ....  179 

The  Quakers ;  their  opinioWand  behavior    .        .         .    179-181 

Violent  manifestations  of  dissent 182 

Anne  Austin  and  Mary  Fisher ;  how  they  were  received  in 

Boston 183 

The  confederated  colonies  seek  to  expel  the  Quakers ;  noble 

attitude  of  Rhode  Island    .......  184 

Roger  Williams  appeals  to  his  friend,  Oliver  Cromwell  .  185 

The  "  heavenly  speech"  of  Sir  Harry  Vane  ....  185 

Laws  passed  against  the  Quakers  ......  180 

How  the  death  penalty  was  regarded  at  that  time  in  New 

England 187 


CONTENTS.  rv 

ecatioDB  of  Quakers  on  Boston  Common    .         .         .    188,  189 
Wenlock  Christison's  defiance  and  yiotory      .         .         .    189,  190 

The  "King's  Missive" 191 

Why  Charles  II.  interfered  to  protect  the  Quakers  .  .  191 
His  hostile  feeling  toward  the  New  England  goyemments  .  192 
The  regicide  judges,  Groffe  and  Whalley  .  .  .  193,  194 
New  Haven  annexed  to  Connecticut  ....  194,  195 
Abraham  Pierson,  and  the  fovmding  of  Newark  .  .  .196 
Breaking-down  of  the  theocratic  policy  ....  197 
Weakening  of  the  Confederacy 198 


CHAPTER  V. 

KINQ  PHUJP'S   WAB. 

Relations  between  the  Puritan  settlers  and  the  Indians .        .  199 

Trade  with  the  Indians 200 

Missionary  work ;  Thomas  Mayhew  .....  201 
John  Eliot  and  his  translation  of  the  Bible    ....  202 

His  preaching  to  the  Indians 203 

His  \'illages  of  Christian  Indians 204 

The  Puritan's  intention  was  to  deal  gfently  and  honourably 

with  the  red  men 205 

Why  Pennsylvania  was  so  long  unmolested  by  the  Indians,  205,  206 
Difficulty  of  the  situation  in  New  England  ....  207 
It  is  hard  for  the  savage  and  the  civilized  man  to  understand 

one  another 208 

How  Eliot's   designs   must  inevitably  have   been  misinter* 

preted  by  the  Indians 209 

It  Lb  remarkable  that  peace  should  haye  been  so  long  pre- 
served ...  210 

Deaths  of  Massasoit  and  his  son  Alexander  .  .  .  .211 
Very  little  is  known  about  the  nature  of  Philip's  designs     .  212 

The  meeting  at  Taunton 213 

Sansamon  informs  against  Philip 213 

And  is  murdered 214 

Massacres  at  Swanzey  and  Dartmouth    .....  214 

Murder  of  Captain  Hutchinson 215 

Attack  on  Brookfield,  which  is  relieved  by  Simon  Willard  •  216 
Fighting  in  the  Connecticut  valley ;  the  mysterious  stranger 

at  Hadley 217,  218 

Ambuscade  at  Bloody  Brook 219 

Popular  excitement  in  Boston         .         .....  220 


XVI  CONTENTS. 

The  Narragansetts  prepare  to  take  the  war-path   .         .         .  221 
And  Governor  Winslow  leads  an  army  against  them      .    222,  223 

Storming  of  the  great  swamp  fortress 224 

Slaughter  of  the  Indians        .......  225 

Effect  of  the  blow 226 

Growth  of  the  humane  sentiment  in  recent  times,  due  to  the 
fact  that  the  horrors  of  war  are  seldom  brought  home  to 
everybody's  door  .......    227,  228 

Warfare  with  savages  is  likely  to  be  truculent  in  character  .  229 
Attack  upon  Lancaster  ........  230 

Mrs.  Rowlandson's  narrative  ......    231-233 

Virtual   extermination   of    the   Indians   (February  to    Au- 
gust, 1676) 233.  234 

Death  of  Canonchet        ........  234 

Philip  pursued  by  Captain  Church 235 

Death  of  PhHip 236 

Indians  sold  into  slavery 237 

Conduct  of  the  Christian  Indians    ......  238 

War  with  the  Tarratines         . 239 

Frightful  destruction  of  life  and  property     ....  240 
Henceforth  the  red  man  figures  no  more  in  the  history  of 
New  England,  except  in  frontier  raids  under  French  guid- 
ance      241 

CHAPTER  VI. 

THE   TYRANNY  OF   ANDR08. 

Romantic  features  in  the  early  history  of  New  England         .  242 
Captain  Edward  Johnson,  of  Woburn,  and  his  book  on  "  The 
Wonder-working  Providence   of    Zion's  Saviour    in    New 

England" 243,244 

Acts  of  the  Puritans  often  judged  by  an  unreal  and  impos- 
sible standard 245 

Spirit  of  the  "  Wonder-working  Providence  "         .         .         .  246 

-Merits  and  faults  of  the  Puritan  theocracy     ....  247 

Restriction  of  the  suffrage  to  church  members       .         .         .  248 

It  was  a  source  of  political  discontent 249 

Inquisitorial  administration  of  justice 250 

The  "  Halfway  Covenant " 251 

Founding  of  the  Old  South  church 252 

Unfriendly    relations   between   Charles   II.    and   Massachu- 
setts      253 

Complaints  against  Massachusetts 264 


CONTENTS.  xvii 

The  Lords  of  Trade 255 

Arrival  of  Edward  Randolph  in  Boston          ....  256 
Joseph  Dudley  and  the  beg^nings  of  Toryism  in  New  Eng- 
land     257,  268 

Charles  II.  erects  the  four  Piscataqua  towns  into  the  royal 

province  of  New  Hampshire 259 

And  quarrels  with  Massachusetts  over  the  settlement  of  the 

Gorges  claim  to  the  Maine  district 26(? 

Simon  Bradstreet  and  his  verse-making  wife ....  261 
Massachusetts  answers  the  king's  peremptory  message  .  .  202 
Secret  treaty  between  Charles  II.  and  Louis  XIV.  .         .  263 

SBiamef  ul  proceedings  in  England 264 

Massachusetts  refuses  to  surrender  her  charter ;  and  accord- 
ingly it  is  annulled  by  decree  of  chancery,  June  21,  1684  .  265 

Effect  of  annulling  the  charter 266 

Death  of  Charles  IL,  accession  of  James  II.,  and  appoint- 
ment of  Sir  Edmund  Andros  as  viceroy  over  New  England, 

with  despotic  powers 267 

The  charter  oak 268 

Episcopal  services  in  Boston 268,  269 

Founding  of  the  Bang's  Chapel 269 

The  tyranny 270 

John  Wise  of  Ipswich 271 

FaU  of  James  II 271 

Insurrection  in  Boston,  and  overthrow  of  Andros  .         .         .  272 

Effects  of  the  Revolution  of  1689 273 

Need  for  union  among  all  the  northern  colonies     .         .         .  274 
Plymouth,  Maine,  and  Acadia  annexed  to  Massachusetts       .  275 
Which  becomes  a  royal  province     ......  276 

And  is  thus  brought  into  political  sympathy  with  Virginia    .  276 
The  seeds  of  the  American  Revolution  were  already  sown, 
and  the  spirit  of  1776  was  foreshadowed  in  1689        .  277,  278 


THE 

BEGINNINGS   OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  EOMAN  IDEA  AND  THE  ENGLISH  IDEA. 

It  used  to  be  the  fashion  of  historians,  looking 
superficially  at  the  facts  presented  in  chronicles 
and  tables  of  dates,  without  analyzing  and  compar- 
ing vast  groups  of  facts  distributed  through  cen- 
turies, or  even  suspecting  the  need  for  such  analy- 
sis 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  for- 
tune, Odovakar,  commander  of  the  Herulian  mer- 
cenaries in  Italy,  sent  the  handsome  boy  Romulus, 
son  of  Orestes,  better  known  as  "  little  Augustus," 
from  his  imperial  throne  to  the  splendid  villa  of 
Lucrdlus  near  Naples,  and  gave  him  a  yearly  pen- 
sion of  135,000  [6,000  solidi]  to  console  him  for 
the  loss  of  a  world.  As  324  years  elapsed  before 
another  emperor  was  crowned  at  Rome,  when  did  tha 
and  as  the  political  headship  of  Europe  pirT'ome'to 
after  that  happy  restoration  remained 
upon  the  German  soil  to  which  the  events  of  the 
eighth  century  had  shifted  it,  nothing  could  seem 


2      THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

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.  Some- 
times the  date  476  was  even  set  up  as  a  great  land- 
mark dividing  modern  from  ancient  history.  For 
those,  however,  who  took  such  a  view,  it  was  impos- 
sible 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 
position  of  that  great  Roman  power  which  had  its 
centre  on  the  Bosphorus,  which  in  the  code  of  Jus- 
tinian left  us  our  grandest  monument  of  Roman 
law,  and  which  for  a  thousand  years  was  the 
staunch  bulwark  of  Europe  against  the  successive 
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  me- 
diaeval England  to  the  Continental  powers,  or  the 
marvellously  interesting  growth  of  the  modern  Eu- 
ropean system  of  nationalities. 

Since  the  middle  of  the  nineteenth  century  the 
study  oi  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  comparison 
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. 
8uch  an  instance  was  furnished  about  twenty-five 


ROMAN  IDEA  AND  ENGLISH  IDEA.         8 

years  ago  by  Di.  Bryce's  epoch-making  work  on 
the  Holy  Roman  Empire.     Since  then  historians 
still  recognize  the  importance  of  the  date 
476  as   that  which  left  the   Bishop  of  odovakar'» 

'^  work. 

Kome  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  atten- 
tion. The  most  important  effect,  in  this  instance, 
realized  after  three  centuries,  was  not  the  overthrow 
of  Roman  power  in  the  West,  but  its  indefinite  ex- 
tension 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  Em- 
pire had  come  to  an  end,  or  was  ever  likely  to.  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  im- 
agine the  world  as  existing.  It  must  have  its  di- 
vinely 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  patrician,  and  entrust  the  af- 
fairs of  Italy  to  his  care.  So  when  Sicambrian 
Chlodwig  set  up  his  Merovingian  kingdom  in  north- 
em  Gaul,  he  was  glad  to  array  himself  in  the  robe 
of  a  Roman  consid,  and  obtain  from  the  eastern 
emperor  a  formal  ratification  of  his  rule. 


4     THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

Countless  examples  show  that  the  event  of  476 
was  understood  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  Caesars  upon  the 
Prankish  brow  of  Charles  the  Great,  was  regarded, 
not  as  the  restoration  of  an  empire  once  extin- 
guished, 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 
The  Holy  Ro-  ccnturies  more  the  sceptre  had  passed 
man  Empire.    ^^^^  ^^^  jj^^  ^£  Fraukish  Charlcs  to  the 

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 
Hohenstauffen  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  centre.  By 
the  beginning  of  the  sixteenth  century  this  feeling 
had  almost  disappeared.  Men's  world  ha<l  en- 
larged 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  owa   imperial  domains  powerful  nations   had 


ROMAN  IDEA  AND  ENGLISH  IDEA.  5 

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  successor  of  Augustus ; 
and  the  mutterings  of  revolt  against  papal  su- 
premacy already  heralded  the  storm  which  was 
soon  to  rend  all  Christendom  in  twain.  After  the 
Reformation,  the  conception  of  a  universal  Chris- 
tian 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  illus- 
trious American  philosopher,  Benjamin  Thompson, 
a  native  of  Woburn  in  Massachusetts  and  some- 
time dweller  in  Rumford,  New  Hampshire,  was 
admitted  to  a  share  in  its  dignities  as  Count  Rum- 
ford.  When  at  length  in  1806,  among  the  sweep- 
ing changes  wrought  by  the  battle  of  Austerlitz, 
the  Emperor  Francis  II.  resigned  his  position  as 
head  of  the  Germanic  body,  there  were  perhaps 
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  succes- 
sion 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 


6     THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

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  or- 
ganic life,  the  processes  of  development  and  of  ex- 
tinction are  exceedingly  slow,  and  it  is  seldom  that 
the  stages  can  be  sharply  marked  by  dates.  The 
Gradual  shift-  processes  which  have  gradually  shifted 
from  the  men  the  Seat  of  empire  until  the  prominent 
Latin,  and        part  played  nineteen  centuries  ago  by 

their  descend-    -p,  tat  i    •  ••         •  i 

ants,  to  the  xComo  and  Alexandria,  on  opposite  sides 
epeak  English,  of  the  Mediterranean,  has  been  at  length 
assumed  by  London  and  New  York,  on  opposite 
sides  of  the  Atlantic,  form  a  most  interesting  sub- 
ject of  study.  But  to  understand  them,  one  must 
do  much  more  than  merely  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  which  we  live.  In  covering  so  wide  a  field 
we  cannot  of  course  expect  to  obtain  anytliing  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.  Neverthe- 
less it  is  quite  possible  for  us  to  discern,  in  their 
bold  general  outlines,  some  historic  trutlis  of  su- 
preme 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 


ROMAN  IDEA  AND  ENGLISH  IDEA.         7 

look  a  little  into  that  process  of  nation-making 
which  has  been  going  on  since  prehistoric  ages  and 
is  going  on  here  among  us  to-day,  and  from  the  re- 
corded 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  fail- 
ure that  success  is  attained,  so  has  it  been  espe- 
cially 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 
foimd  wanting,  amid  the  tears  and  groans  of  un- 
numbered generations,  before  methods  less  crude 
could  be  put  into  operation.  In  the  historic  sur- 
vey 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  mas- 
terful 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  his- 
tory of  Europe  shows  us  Germanic  peoples  wrest- 
ing 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  drawn  toward  England  as  the  battle-ground  and 
the  seventeenth  century  as  the  critical  moment  of 
the  struggle  ;  we  shall  see  in  Puritanism  the  tre- 
mendous militant  force  that  determined  the  issue ; 


8     THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

and  when  our  perspective  has  thus  become  properly 
adjusted,  we  shall  begin  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  foremost  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  dis- 
tance 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  cov- 
ered with  wandering  tribes  of  savages,  rude  in 
morals  and  manners,  narrow  and  monotonous  in 
experience,  sustaining  life  very  much  as  lower  ani- 
mals 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 
Political  his-  *^®  widcst  seusc  the  subject  of  political 
tol^oV^ud^-  l^istory  is  the  description  of  the  pro- 
'^^e-  cesses  by  which,  under  favourable  cir- 

cumstances, innimierable  such  primitive  tribes  have 
become  welded  together  into  mighty  nations,  with 
elevated  standards  of  morals  and  manners,  with 
wide  and  varied  experience,  sustaining  life  and  min- 
istering to  human  happiness  by  elaborate  arts  and 
sciences,  and  putting  a  curb  upon  warfare  by  limit- 
ing its  scope,  diminishing  its  cruelty,  and  interrupt- 


ROMAN  IDEA  AND  ENGLISH  IDEA.         9 

ing  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  pro- 
found philosophical  lessons.  But  for  those  who 
study  it  in  the  scientific  spirit,  the  human  interest 
of  its  details  becomes  still  more  intensely  fascinat- 
ing and  absorbing.  Battles  and  coronations,  poems 
and  inventions,  migrations  and  martyrdoms,  ac- 
quire new  meanings  and  awaken  new  emotions  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  understand- 
ing purified,  till  we  become  better  able  to  compre- 
hend 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  imme- 
morial in  the  Oriental  world,  may  be  „   „  , 

.J  The  Oriental 

roughly  described  as  conquest  without  method  of  n». 

o      •'  ■*  tioQ-nuuung. 

incorporation.      A  tribe  grows  to  na- 
tional dimensions  by  conquering  and  annexing  its 
neighbours,  without  admitting  them  to  a  share  in 
its  political  life.     Probably  there  is  always  at  first 
some  incorporation,  or  even  perhaps  some  crude 


10     THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

germ  of  federative  alliance  ;  but  this  goes  very  lit- 
tle way,  —  only  far  enough  to  fuse  together  a  few 
closely  related  tribes,  agreeing  in  speech  and  hab- 
its, into  a  single  great  tribe  that  can  overwhelm  its 
neighbours.  In  early  society  this  sort  of  incorpora- 
tion cannot  go  far  without  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  vanquishe<i 
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  despotisms,  in  the  val- 
leys of  the  Nile  and  Euphrates,  and  elsewhere. 
Such  a  political  structure  admits  of  a  very  con- 
siderable development  of  material  civilization,  in 
which  gorgeous  palaces  and  artistic  temples  may 
be  built,  and  perhaps  even  literature  and  scholar- 
ship 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  ])eople 
has  been  destroyed.  Populations  that  have  lived 
for  centuries  in  fear  of  impalement  or  crucifixion, 
and  have  known  no  other  destination  for  the  pro- 
ducts of  their  labour  than  the  clutches  of  the  omni- 
present tax-gatherer,  are  not  likely  to  furnish  good 
soldiers.  A  handful  of  freemen  will  scatter  them 
like  sheep,  as  the  Greeks  did  twenty-three  centu- 
ries ago  at  Kynaxa,  as  the  English  did  the  other 


ROMAN  IDEA  AND  ENGLISH  IDEA.       11 

day  at  Tel  el-Kebir.  On  the  other  hand,  where 
the  manliness  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  admira* 
ble.  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  con- 
tributed 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  funda- 
mental defect  that  between  the  Christian  Spaniard 
and  his  Mussulman  conqueror  there  could  be  no 
political  fusion,  this  briUiant  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  ex- 
termination of  one  of  the  parties,  and  left  behind 
it  a  legacy  of  hatred  and  persecution  that  has 
made  the  history  of  modem  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  commend.  It  was  better  than 
savagery,  and  for  a  long  time  no  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 


12     THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

oldest  we  know  and  is  not  yet  extinct,  it  neverthe- 
less has  not  the  elements  of  permanence.  Sooner 
or  later  it  will  disappear,  as  savagery  is  disappear- 
ing, as  the  rudest  types  of  inchoate  human  society 
tave  disappeared. 

The  second  method  by  which  nations  have  been 
made  may  be  called  the  Roman  method : 

The  Roman  *'  ,     .    n        t  -i        • 

method  of  na-  and  wc  may  brieiiy  describe  it  as  con- 

tion-making.  •   7      .  . 

quest  With  incorporation,  out  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  in- 
comparably greater  than  any  other  that  the  world 
had  yet  seen.  Never  before  had  so  many  pooi)le 
been  brought  under  one  government  without  mak- 
ing slaves  of  most  of  them.  Liberty  had  existed 
before,  whether  in  barbaric  tribes  or  in  Greek  cit- 
ies. Union  had  existed  before,  in  Assyrian  or 
Persian  despotisms.  Now  liberty  and  union  were 
for  the  first  time  joined  together,  with  conse- 
quences  enduring    and   stupendous.      The  whole 


ROMAN  IDEA  AND  ENGLISH  IDEA.       13 

Mediterranean  world  was  brought  under  one  gov- 
ernment ;  ancient  barriers  of  religion,  speech,  and 
custom  were  overthrown  in  every  direction ;  and 
innumerable  barbar'an  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,  pro- 
tected by  Roman  law,  and  sharing  in  the  material 
and  spiritual  benefits  of  Roman  civilization.  Grad- 
ually the  whole  vast  structure  became  permeated 
by  Hellenic  and  Jewish  thought,  and  thus  were 
laid  the  lasting  foundations  of  modem  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  prodi- 
gious work,  which  raised  human  life  to  a  much 
higher  plane  than  that  which  it  had  formerly  occu- 
pied, and  endless  gratitude  is  due  to  the  thousands 
of  steadfast  men  who  in  one  way  or  another  de- 
voted their  lives  to  its  accomplishment. 

This  Roman  method  of  nation-making  had  nev- 
ertheless its  fatal  shortcomings,  and  it  was  only 
very  slowly,  moreover,  that  it  wrought  itaaiowderei- 
out  its  own  best  results.  It  was  but  **'*™*°  * 
g^radually  that  the  rights  and  privileges  of  Roman 
citizenship  were  extended  over  the  whole  Roman 
world,  and  in  the  mean  time  there  were  numerous 
instances  where  conquered  provinces  seemed  des- 
tined to  no  better  fate  than  had  awaited  the  vic- 
tims of  Egyptian  or  Assyrian  conquest.  The  ra- 
pacity and  cruelty  of  Caius  Verres  could  hardly 
have  been  outdone  by  the  worst  of  Persian  satraps ; 


14     THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

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  sys- 
tem, from  the  days  of  Artaxerxes  to  those  of  the 
Grand  Turk,  would  scarcely  have  called  forth  a 
reproving  word.  It  was  by  slow  degrees  that  the 
Roman  came  to  understand  the  virtues  of  liis  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  pre- 
vent it  from  achieving  permanent  success.  His- 
torians have  been  fond  of  showing  how  the  vitality 
of  the  whole  system  was  impaired  by  wholesale 
slave-labour,  by  the  false  political  economy  wliich 
taxes  all  for  the  benefit  of  a  few,  by  the  debauch- 
ing view  of  civil  office  which  regards  it  as  private 
perquisite  and  not  as  public  trust,  and  —  worst  of 
all,  perhaps  —  by  the  communistic  practice  of  feed- 
ing an  idle  proletariat  out  of  the  imperial  treasury. 
The  names  of  these  deadly  social  evils  are  not  un- 
familiar 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  ter- 


ROMAN  IDEA  AND  ENGLISH  IDEA.       15 

rible  war,  should  the  most  intelligent  people  on 
earth  have  got  rid  of  a  system  of  labour  devised  in 
the  crudest  ages  of  antiquity  and  fraught  with 
misery  to  the  employed,  degradation  to  the  employ- 
ers, 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  not  consist  in  ^g  essentw 
the  fact  that  under  it  they  were  fully  *^^^**^*- 
developed,  but  in  the  fact  that  it  had  no  adequate 
means  of  overcoming  them.  Unless  heljjed  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  introduction  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- 
government  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  Lib- 
erty to  Union,  strengthening  the  hands  of  the  cen- 
tral 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. 

Now  if  we  ask  why  the  Roman  government  found 
itself  thus  obliged  to  sacrifice  personal  liberty  and 
local  independence  to  the  paramount  necessity  of 


16     THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

holding  the  empire  together,  the  answer  will  point 
us  to  the  essential  and  fundamental  vice  of  the 
Roman,  method  of  nation-making.  It  lacked  the 
principle  of  representation.  The  old  Roman  world 
,  ^  knew  nothing  of  representative  assem- 

It  knew  noth-  . 

ingofrepre-     blies.     Its  scnatcs  Were    assemblies  of 

•entation. 

notables,  constituting  in  the  main  an 
aristocracy  of  men  who  had  held  high  office  ;  its  pop- 
ular assemblies  were  primary  assemblies,  —  town- 
meetings.  There  was  no  notion  of  such  a  thing  as 
political  power  delegated  by  the  people  to  repre- 
sentatives who  were  to  wield  it  away  from  home 
and  out  of  sight  of  their  constituents.  The  Ro- 
man's only  notion  of  delegated  power  was  that  of 
authority  delegated  by  the  government  to  its  gen- 
erals 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  institu- 
tion by  means  of  which  government  could  be  car- 
ried on  over  so  vast  an  area  without  degenerating 

into  despotism.     Even  could  the  device 

And  therefore        -  ^    i-  i  i    ^       xi 

ended  in  des-  of  representation  have  occurred  to  the 
'*™'  mind    of    some    statesman    trained    in 

Roman  methods,  it  would  probably  liave  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  repre- 
sentative 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  government  at  Rome 


ROMAN  IDEA  AND  ENGLISH  IDEA.       17 

became  more  and  more  immanageable  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  prov- 
inces, 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 
weakened.  This  centralization  was  greatly  inten. 
sified  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  moi-e  a 
military  despotism,  must  revert  toward  the  Ori- 
ental type.  The  period  extending  from  the  third 
century  before  Christ  to  the  third  century  after 
was  a  period  of  extraordinary  intellectual  expan- 
sion 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  retro- 
gression, 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  en- 
tering upon  the  scene.  The  first  was  the  coloniza- 
tion of  the  empire  by  Germanic  tribes  already  far 
advanced  beyond  savagery,  already  somewhat  tinc- 
tured 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. 


18     THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

but  at  the  risk  of  undoing  its  work  of  political  or- 
ganization and  reducing  it  to  barbarism.  The  sec- 
ond was  the  establishment  of  the  Koman  church, 
The  German  ^^  institution  Capable  of  holding  Eu- 
ttiriiomi^'*  ropean  society  together  in  spite  of  a  po- 
church.  litical  disintegration  that  was  widespread 

and  long-continued.  While  wave  after  wave  of 
Germanic  colonization  poured  over  romanized  Eu- 
rope, breaking  down  old  boundary-lines  and  work- 
ing 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  forgotten,  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  consider  this 
great  fact  in  its  relations  to  what  went  before  and 
what  came  after,  it  is  hard  to  find  words  fit  to  ex- 
press the  debt  of  gratitude  which  modern  civiliza- 
tion owes  to  the  Roman  Catholic  church.  ^Vhen 
we  think  of  all  the  work,  big  with  jn-omise  of  the 
future,  that  went  on  in  those  centuries  which  mod* 
ern  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  modern 
life  were  then  painfully  sown  upon  the  soil  which 
imj)erial  Rome  had  prepared ;  when  we  tliiiik  of 
the  various  work  of  a  Gregory,  a  Renedict,  a 
Boniface,  an  Alfred,  a  Charlemagne  ;  we  feel  tliat 
there  is  a  sense  in  which  the  most  brilliant  achieve- 


ROMAN  IDEA  AND  ENGLISH  IDEA.        19 

ments  of  pagan  antiquity  are  dwarfed  in  compari- 
son with  these.  Until  quite  lately,  indeed,  the  stu- 
dent 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  pow- 
erful 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  modern  world. 
The  moment  when  this  interaction  might  have 
seemed  on  the  point  of  reaching  a  complete  and 
harmonious  result  was  the  crlorious  thir- 

^      °  ^  The  wonder- 

teenth  century,  the  culminating  moment  '"i  thirteenth 
of  the  Holy  lioman  Empire.  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  sym})athy 
with  their  peoples,  that  Christendom  has  known, — 
an  Edward  I.,  a  St.  Louis,  a  Frederick  II.  Then, 
when  in  the  pontificates  of  Iimocent  III.  and  his 
successors  the  Roman  church  reached  its  apogee, 
the  religious  yearnings  of  men  sought  expression 


20     THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

in  the  sublimest  architecture  the  world  has  seen. 
Then  Aquinas  summed  up  in  his  profound  specula- 
tions 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  mod- 
em 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.  Fran- 
cis 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  Teu- 
tonic people  ;  for  their  development  and  applica- 
tion on  a  grand  scale  we  must  look  chiefly  to  the 
history  of  that  most  Teutonic  of  peoples  in  its  in- 
stitutions, though  perhaps  not  more  than  half-Teu- 
tonic 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  differs  from  the  Oriental 
__  and  Roman  methods  which  we  have  been 

The  Engli8h  .  . 

method  of  na-  considering  in  a  feature  oi  most  pro- 
found  significance  ;  it  contains  the  prin- 
ciple of  representation.  For  this  reason,  though 
like  all  nation-making  it  was  in  its  early  stages 
attended   with   war  and  conquest,  it  nevertheless 


ROMAN  IDEA  AND  ENGLISH  IDEA.       21 

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 
Oriental  nation,  such  as  Assyria  or  Persia,  we  see 
a  conquering  tribe  holding  down  a  number  of  van- 
quished peoples,  and  treating  them  like  slaves :  here 
the  nation  is  very  imperfectly  made,  and  its  gov- 
ernment 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  of  treating  them  like  slaves,  it  grad- 
ually makes  them  its  equals  before  the  law ;  here 
the  resulting  political  body  is  much  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  sim- 
ply 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  gov- 
ernment 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  govern- 
ment 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  coalescence  of  England  and  Scotland  cie»of  £eder»i. 
effected  early  in  the  eighteenth  century 
after  ages  of  mutual  hostility  ;  for  instances  of  the 


22     THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

latter  we  have  Switzerland  and  the  United  States. 
Now  federalism,  though  its  rise  and  establishment 
may  be  incidentally  accompanied  by  warfare,  is 
nevertheless  in  spirit  pacific.  Conquest  in  the  Ori- 
ental 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  move- 
ment itself.  At  least  it  would  have  been  a  hasty 
confession,  quite  uncalled  for  and  quite  untrue, 
that  American  federalism  had  thus  far  proved  it- 
self incomiDctent,  —  that  we  had  indeed  preserved 
our  national  unity,  but  only  at  the  frightful  cost  of 
sinking  to  a  lower  plane  of  national  life. 

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  combined  action 
for  warding  off  external  attack.  In  their  Achaian 
and  Aitolian  leagues  the  Greeks  made  brilliant  at- 
tempts toward  founding  a  nation  upon  some  higher 
principle  than  that  of  mere  conquest,  and  the  his- 
tory of  these  attempts  is  exceedingly  interesting 
and  instructive.  They  failed  for  lack  of  the  prin- 
ciple of  representation,  which  was  practically  un- 
known to  the  world  until  introduced  by  the  Teu- 


ROMAN  IDEA  AND  ENGLISH  IDEA.        23 

tonio  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  in  some  of  its  parts. 
Some  centre  of  power  was  sure  to  absorb  all  the  po- 
litical 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  as- 
sumptions of  political  writers  that  republics  must 
be  small,  that  free  government  is  prac-  Fallacy  of  th« 
ticable  only  in  a  confined  area,  and  that  pubUcs^mvLr* 
the  only  strong  and  durable  government,  ^^^^ 
capable  of  maintaining  order  throughout  a  vast  ter- 
ritory, 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  become  more 
and  more  apparent  as  American  history  is  better 
understood.  Our  experience  has  now  so  far  wi- 
dened that  we  can  see  that  despotism  is  not  the 
strongest  but  welluigh  the  weakest  form  of  govern- 
ment ;  that  centralized  administrations,  like  that 
of  the  Roman  empire,  have  fallen  to  pieces,  not 
because  of  too  much  but  because  of  too  little  free- 
dom ;  and  that  the  only  perdurable  government 
must  be  that  which  succeeds  in  achieving  national 
unity  on  a  gi-and  scale,  without  weakening  the  sense 
of  personal  and  local  independence.  For  in  the 
body  politic  this  spirit  of  freedom  is  as  the  red  cor- 
puscles in  the  blood  ;  it  carries  the  life  with  it.  It 
makes  the  difference  between  a  society  of  self-re- 
specting men  and  women  and  a  society  of  puppets. 


24     THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

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  government  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  —  anar- 
chy 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  be- 
cause 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  straggle  in  which  our  forefathers 
have  manfully  contended  for  the  right  of  self-gov- 
ernment. From  the  days  of  Arminius  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  peo- 
ples of  mediaeval  and  modern  Euroj)e  has  the 
struggle  gone  on,  with  various  and  instructive  re- 
sults.    In  all  parts  of  romauized  Europe  invaded 


ROMAN  IDEA  AND  ENGLISH  IDEA.       25 

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  pre- 
historic 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  March-meet- 
in  which  Mr.  Hosea  Biglow  and  others  sentative  as- 
like  him  have  figured.  Everywhere, 
too,  we  find  some  attempt  at  representative  assem- 
blies, based  on  the  principle  of  the  three  estates, 
clergy,  nobles,  and  commons.  But  nowhere  save 
in  England  does  the  representative  principle  be- 
come firmly  established,  at  first  in  county-meet- 
ings, afterward  in  a  national  parliament  limiting 
the  powers  of  the  national  monarch  as  the  primary 
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  representa- 
tive 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  practice  and  became 
the  dominant  political  idea.  We  may  therefore 
agree  with  Dr.  Stubbs  that  in  its  political  develop- 
ment England  is  the  most  Teutonic  of  all  European 
countries,  —  the  country  which  in  becoming  a  great 
nation  has  most  fully  preserved  the  local  independ- 
ence so  characteristic  of  the  ancient  Germans. 
The  reasons  for  tliis  are  complicated,  and  to  try  to 
assign  them  all  would  needlessly  encumber  our  ex- 
position.    But  there  is  one  that  is  apparent  and 


26    THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

extremely  instructive.  There  is  sometimes  a  great 
advantage  in  being  able  to  plant  political  institu- 
tions 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  com- 
pletely 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  dis- 
parity 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  moun- 
tains of  Cumberland,  Wales,  and  Cornwall,  or  fled 
across  the  channel  to  Brittany,  we  need  not  seek  to 
decide.  It  is  enough  to  point  out  one  respect  in 
Pecuiiarit  of  which  the  Teutonic  conquest  was  im- 
con^iMrof*^  measurably  more  complete  in  Britain 
Britain.  than  iu  auy  other  part  of  the  empire. 

Everywhere  else  the  tribes  who  settled  upon  Ro- 
man soil  —  the  Goths,  Vandals,  Suevi,  and  Bur- 
gundians  —  were  christianized,  and  so  to  some  ex- 
tent 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  Ko 


ROMAN  IDEA  AND  ENGLISH  IDEA.       27 

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  cen- 
turies 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  missionaries  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  con- 
verting 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  institu- 
tions found  time  to  take  deep  root  in  British  soil 
with  scarcely  more  interference,  as  to  essential 
points,  than  in  American  soil  twelve  centuries  af- 
terx^ard.  ^^ 

/^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  lan- 
guage. Before  settling  in  Britain  our  forefathers 
had  been  tribes  in  the  upper  stages  of  barbarism ; 
now  they  began  the  process  of  coalescence  into  a 
nation  in  which  the  principle  of  self-government 
should  be  retained  and  developed.     The  township 


28     THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

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 
Survival  and  ^  mere  administrative  district.  And 
of  Teutonic*  ^^  *^^^  county-meeting  we  may  observe 
^mbiy*!^''^  a  singular  feature,  something  never 
England.  sQQXi.  before  in  the  world,  something 
destined  to  work  out  vaster  political  results  than 
Caesar  ever  dreamed  of.  This  county-meeting  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  merel}'  an 
assembly  of  notables,  attended  by  the  most  impor- 
tant men  of  the  neighbourhood.  It  is  a  repre- 
sentative assembly,  attended  by  select  men  from 
each  township.  We  may  see  in  it  the  germ  of  the 
British  parliament  and  of  the  American  congress, 
a^  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  legis- 
latures, 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  beginning  of  representative  assemblies  in  Eng- 
land. We  can  only  say  that  where  we  first  find 
traces  of  county  organization,  we  find  traces  of  rep- 
resentation. Clearly,  if  the  English  conquerors 
of  Britain  had  left  the  framework  of  Koman  insti- 
tutions standing  there,  as  it  remained  standing  in 
Gaul,  there  would  have  been  great  danger  of  this 
principle  of  representation  not  surviving.  It  woidd 
most  likely  have  been  crushed  in  its  callow  infancy. 


ROMAN  IDEA  AND  ENGLISH  IDEA.       29 

The  conquerors  would  insensibly  have  fallen  into 
the  Roman  way  of  doing  things,  as  they  did  in 
Gaul. 

From  the  start,  then,  we  find  the  English  nation- 
ality growing  up  under  very  different  conditions 
from  those  which  obtained  in  other  parts  of  Eu- 
rope. So  far  as  institutions  are  concerned,  Teu- 
tonism  was  less  modified  in  England  primitive  jei*. 
than  in  the  German  fatherland  itself.  Jfolls/rsfmod. 
For  the  gradual  conquest  and  christian-  j^^  ihi^"fn 
ization  of  Germany  which  began  with  ^^t^n^^^y- 
Charles  the  Great,  and  went  on  until  in  the  thir- 
teenth century  the  frontier  had  advanced  eastward 
to  the  Vistula,  entailed  to  a  certain  extent  the 
romanization  of  Germany.  For  a  thousand  years 
after  Charles  the  Great,  the  political  head  of 
Germany  was  also  the  political  head  of  the  Holy 
Roman  Empire,  and  the  civil  and  criminal  code 
by  which  the  daily  life  of  the  modern  German  cit- 
izen is  regulated  is  based  upon  the  jurisprudence 
of  Rome.  Nothing,  perhaps,  could  illustrate  more 
forcibly  than  this  sheer  contrast  the  peculiarly 
Teutonic  character  of  English  civilization.  Be 
tween  the  eighth  and  the  eleventh  centuries,  whea 
the  formation  of  English  nationality  was  approach- 
ing completion,  it  received  a  fresh  and  powerful 
infusion  of  Teutonbm  in  the  swarms  of  heathen 
Northmen  or  Danes  who  occupied  the  eastern 
coasts,  struggled  long  for  the  supremacy,  and  grad- 
ually becoming  christianized,  for  a  moment  suc- 
ceeded in  seizing  the  crown.  Of  the  invasion  of 
partially  romanized  Northmen  from  Normandy 
which  followed  soon  after,  and  which  has  so  pro 


80     THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

foundly  affected  English  society  and  English  speech, 
we  need  notice  here  but  two  conspicuous  features. 
First,  it  increased  the  power  of  the  erown  and  the 
clergy,  brought  all  England  more  than  ever  under 
one  law,  and  strengthened  the  feeling  of  nation- 
ality. It  thus  made  England  a  formidable  military 
power,  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  transformed  the  Old-English 
thanehood  into  the  finest  middle-class  of  rural  gen- 
try and  yeomanry  that  has  ever  existed  in  any  coun- 
try ;  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  pretensions  of  the  crown,  as  the  unification 
of  English  nationality  went  on,  brought  about  a 
result  unlike  anything  known  on  the  continent  of 
Europe  ;  it  brought  about  a  resistless  coalition  be- 
tween the  great  nobles,  the  rural  gentry  and  yeo- 
manry, and  the  burghers  of  the  towns,  for  the 
purpose  of  curl>ing  royalty,  arresting  the  progress 
of  centralizatioi;,  and  setting  up  representative 
government  on  a  truly  national  scale.  This  grand 
result  was  partly  due  to  peculiar  circumstances 
which  had  their  origin  in  the  Norman  conquest; 
but  it  was  largely  due  to  the  political  habits  gen- 
erated  by  long  experience  of  local  representative 
ftssemblies,  —  habits  which  made  it  comparatively 


ROMAN  IDEA  AND  ENGLISH  IDEA.       81 

easy  for  different  classes  of  society  to  find  their 
voice  and  use  it  for  the  attainment  of  ends  in  com- 
mon. 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  Jirst,  the  wresting  of 
Magna  Cbarta  from  King  John  in  1215,  and  scc- 
ondly,  the  meeting  of  the  first  House  of  Commons 
in  1265.  Four  years  of  civil  war  were  required 
to  secure  these  noble  results.  The  Bar-  ^hg  Barons' 
ens'  War,  of  the  years  1263  to  1267,  Ztlt.'^' 
was  an  event  of  the  same  order  of  im-  °'  commons 
portance  as  the  Great  Rebellion  of  the  seven- 
teenth century  and  the  American  Revolution  ;  and 
among  the  founders  of  that  political  freedom 
which  is  enjoyed  to-day  by  all  English-speaking 
people,  the  name  of  Simon  de  Montfort,  Earl  of 
Leicester,  deserves  a  place  in  our  grateful  remem- 
brance beside  the  names  of  Cromwell  and  Wash- 
ington. Simon's*  great  victory  at  Lewes  in  1264 
must  rank  with  Naseby  and  Yorktown.  The 
work  begim  by  his  House  of  Commons  was  th« 
same  work  that  has  continued  to  go  on  without 
essential  interruption  down  to  the  days  of  Cleve- 
land and  Gladstone.  The  fundamental  principle 
of  political  freedom  is  "  no  taxation  without  repre- 
sentation " ;  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  princi- 
ple of  justice  was  first  practically  recognized,  did 


82     THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

government  begin  to  divorcje  itself  from  the  prim- 
itive bestial  barbaric  system  of  tyranny  and  plun- 
der, 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,  there- 
fore, there  is  none  more  fit  to  be  commemorated 
than  1265  ;  for  in  that  year  there  was  first  asserted 
and  applied  at  Westminster,  on  a  national  scale, 
that  fundamental  principle  of  "  no  taxation  with- 
out representation,"  that  innermost  kernel  of  the 
English  Idea,  which  the  Stamp  Act  Congress 
defended  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  listless  or  the  slothful.  So 
much  time  and  so  much  strife  by  sea  and  land  has 
it  taken  to  secure  beyond  peradventure  the  boon  to 
mankind  for  which  Earl  Simon  gave  uj)  his  noble 
_.      ...      life  on  the  field  of  Evesham !   Nor  with- 

Etemal  vigi- 

^ceof  \ib-  ®^^  unremitting  watchfulness  can  we  be 
•rty.  gyj,g  ^jjg^^  ^Ijg  (Jay  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  nur- 
sery. 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 


ROMAN  IDEA  AND  ENGLISH  IDEA        33 

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  government  might  seem  to  have 
been  attaining  its  richest  and  most  fruitful  develop- 
ment, 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  English  Idea,  clothed  in  various 
forms,  became  the  dominating  issue  in  conflict  be- 

_,  ___       ,  tween  Roman 

Jiiuropean    history.     We  have   now   to  laeaandEng- 

lish   Idea  be- 

observe  the  rise  of  modern  nationalities,  gins  to  become 

r  T    •       1    T  r  (•    clearly  visiblA 

as  new  centres  of  political  life,  out  of  inthethir- 

.  .  1"       1  T>  teenth  cen- 

the  various  provinces  of  the  Roman  tury. 
world.  In  the  course  of  this  development  the  Teu- 
tonic representative  assembly  is  at  first  everywhere 
discernible,  in  some  form  or  other,  as  in  the  Span- 
ish Cortes  or  the  States-General  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  compara- 
tively novel  Teutonic  idea  of  power  delegated  by 
the  people  to  their  representatives  had  not  become 
deeply  enough  rooted  in  the  political  soil  of  the 
continent;  and  accordingly  we  find  it  more  and 
tnore  disused  and  at  length  almost  forgotten,  while 


34     THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

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  with  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  Eng- 
land humbled  at  the  feet  of  Innocent  III.,  the  chil 
dren  of  the  men  who  had  found  the  gigantic  powers 
of  a  Frederick  II.  unequal  to  the  task  of  curbing 
the  papacy,  now  beheld  the  successors  of  St.  Pete£ 
carried  away  to  Avignon,  there  to  be  kept  for  sev- 
enty 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  coming  upper- 
modem  na-       most  in  the  shape  of  modern  national- 

tionaiities.  ...  .  .  .  ^ 

ities  with  their  national  sovereigns.  So 
long  as  these  nationalities  were  in  the  weakness  of 
iheir  early  formation,  it  was  possible  for  pope  and 


ROMAN  IDEA  AND  ENGLISH  IDEA.         85 

emperor  to  assert,  and  sometimes  to  come  near 
maintaining,  universal  supremacy.  But  the  time 
was  now  at  hand  when  kings  could  assert  their  in- 
dependence of  the  pope,  while  the  emperor  was  fast 
sinking  to  be  merely  one  among  kings. 

As  modem  kingdoms  thus  grew  at  the  expense 
of  empire  aLd  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-em- 
pire 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  Tras- 
tamare  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  example,  that  only  twenty-nine  lay 
peers  could  be  found  to  sit  in  the  first  parliament 
of  Henry  VII.  in  1485.  The  old  nobility  was  al- 
most annihilated,  both  in  person  and  in  property  ; 
for  along  with  the  slaughter  there  went  wholesale 
confiscation,  and  this  added  greatly  to  the  dispos- 
able wealth  of  the  crown.  The  case  was  essentially 
similar  in  France  and  Spain.  In  all  three  coun- 
tries the  beginning  of  the  sixteenth  century  saw  the 
power  of  the  crown  increased  and  in-  j^p^p^^j^ 
creasing.  Its  vast  accessions  of  wealth  ^^^^l  ''^  *•*• 
made  it  more  independent  of  legislative 
assemblies,  and  at  the  same  time  enabled  it  to  make 
the  baronage  more  subservient  in  character  by  fillp 


86     THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

ing  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  despo- 
tism was  reached  first  in  Spain,  under  Philip  II. ; 
in  France  it  was  reached  a  century  later,  under 
Louis  XIV. ;  and  at  about  the  same  time  in  the 
hereditary  estates  of  Austria ;  while  over  all  the 
Italian  and  German  soil  of  the  disorganized  em- 
pire, 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  im- 
mense practical  difficulty  of  creating  a  strong 
nationality  without  sacrificing  self-government. 
Powerful,  indeed,  is  the  tendency  toward  over-cen- 
tralization, toward  stagnation,  toward  political 
death.     Powerful  is  the  tendency  to  revert  to  the 

Roman,  if  not  to  the  Oriental  method. 
Dtrength  of  the   As  oftcu  as  wc  Tcflect  upon  the  general 

state  of  things  at  the  end  of  the  seven- 
teenth century  —  the  dreadful  ignorance  and  mis- 
ery 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  significance  of  the  part  played 
by  self-governing  England  in  overcoming  dangers 
which  have  threatened  the  very  existence  of  mod- 
em civilization.     It  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  in 


ROMAN  IDEA  AND  ENGLISH  IDEA.         37 

ihe  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  how  or  where  the  failure  could  have 
been  repaired.  S()me  of  these  conditions  Had  it  not 
we  have  already  considered  ;  let  us  now  ^rftl^g*^ 
observe  one  of  the  most  important  of  "ouWp^b^ 
all.  Let  us  note  the  part  played  by  aJiU^iS-^from 
that  most  tremendous  of  social  forces,  *^*'^°'^'*^- 
the  religious  sentiment,  in  its  relation  to  the  po- 
litical circumstances  which  we  have  passed  in  re- 
view. 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  Spanish  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  be- 
comes interesting,  then,  to  observe  by  contrast  how 
it  was  that  in  England  the  dominant  religious  sen- 
timent came  to  be  enlisted  on  the  side  of  political 
freedom. 

In  such  an  inquiry  we  have  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  in- 
trude 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 


88     THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

crude  sweeping  statements  which  set  forth  CathoL 
ieism  as  invariably  the  enemy  and  Protestantism 
as  invariably  the  ally  of  human  liberty.  The 
Catholic  has  a  right  to  be  offended  at  statements 
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  char- 
acter 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  of  blame  or  approval ;  for 
so  curiously  is  human  nature  compounded  of 
strength  and  weakness  that  the  best  of  human  in- 
stitutions are  likely  to  be  infected  with  some  germs 
of  vice  or  folly. 

Of  no  human  institution  is  this  more  true  than 
of  the  great  mediaeval  church  of  Gregory  and  In- 
nocent 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  Oriental 
caliphate,  had  it  not  been  checked  by  the  i-ising 
spirit  of  nationality  already  referred  to. 
Protestantism  But  thcrc  was  auothcr  and  even  mifjlitier 

In  the  thir-  .  .  ° 

teenthcen-       agcucy  comuig  in  to  curb  its  undue  pre- 
tensions to  absolute  sovereignty.     That 
same  thirteenth  century  which  witnessed  the  cul- 
mination of  its  power  witnessed  also  the  first  bold 


ROMAN  IDEA  AND  ENGLISH  IDEA.         89 

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  Man- 
ichaean  sect  of  Paulicians  into  Thrace,  and  for 
twenty  generations  played  a  considerable  part  in 
the  history  of  the  Eastern  Empire.  In  the  Bul- 
garian tongue  they  were  known  as  Bogomilians,  or 
men  constant  in  prayer.  In  Greek  they  were 
called  Cathari,  or  "  Puritans."  They  ^^e  cathan 
accepted  the  New  Testament,  but  set  thJE^te^'"' 
little  store  by  the  Old  ;  they  laughed  at  ^""p'"- 
transubstantiation,  denied  any  mystical  efiiciency 
to  baptism,  frowned  upon  image-worship  as  no 
better  than  idolatry,  despised  the  intercession  of 
saints,  and  condemned  the  worship  of  the  Virgin 
Mary.  As  for  the  symbol  of  the  cross,  they  scorn- 
fully 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  ecclesiastical  govern- 
ment was  in  the  main  presbyterian,  and  in  politics 
they  showed  a  decided  leaning  toward  democracy. 
They  wore  long  faces,  looked  askance  at  frivolous 
amusements,  and  were  terribly  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 


40     THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

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  terrible  crusade  against 
TheAibigen-  *^®  Albigcnscs,  beginning  in  1207,  was 
■^-  the  joint  work  of  the  most  powerful  of 

popes  and  one  of  the  most  powerful  of  French 
kings.  On  the  part  of  Innocent  it  was  the  stamp- 
ing out  of  a  revolt  that  threatened  the  very  exist- 
ence of  the  Catholic  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  prov- 
inces to  the  government  at  Paris.  Nowhere  in  Eu- 
ropean history  do  we  read  a  more  frightful  story 
than  that  which  tells  of  the  blazing  fires  which  con- 
sumed thousand  after  thousand  of  the  most  intelli- 
gent 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  stat- 
ute 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  1311  for 
the  purpose  of  suppressing  the  Tenij)lars,  but  his 
utter  failure  showed  that  the  instinct  of  self-gov- 
ernment 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  un* 


ROMAN  IDEA  AND  ENGLISH  IDEA.         41 

der  a  representative  government  which  so  strongly 
permeated  society,  it  was  impossible  to  set  the  ma- 
chinery of  repression  to  work  with  such  deadly 
thoroughness  as  it  worked  under  the  guidance  of 
Roman  methods.  When  we  read  the  history  of 
persecution  in  England,  the  story  in  itself  is  dread- 
ful enough  ;  but  when  we  compare  it  with  the  hor- 
rors enacted  in  other  countries,  we  arrive  at  some 
startling  results.  During  the  two  centuries  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  es- 
timates 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  contrast  is  sufficiently  im- 
pressive. In  England  the  persecution  of  ^g^^^  ^t  per- 
heretics  was  feeble  and  spasmodic,  and  J^bieneJiS 
only  at  one  moment  rose  to  anything  ^Ki^^^d. 
like  the  appalling  vigour  which  ordinarily  charac- 
terized it  in  countries  where  the  Inquisition  was 
firmly  established.  Now  among  the  victims  of  re- 
ligious persecution  must  necessarily  be  found  an 
unusual  proportion  of  men  and  women  more  inde- 
pendent than  the  average  in  their  thinking,  and 
more  bold  than  the  average  in  uttering  their 
thoughts.  The  Inquisition  was  a  diabolical  win- 
nowing machine  for  removing  from  society  the 
most  flexible  minds  and  the  stoutest  hearts ;  and 


42     THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

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  element  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  following  cen- 
tury Protestant  ideas  were  rapidly  germinating  in 
England,  alike  in  baron's  castle,  in  yeoman's  farm- 
stead, in  citizen's  shop,  in  the  cloistered  walks  of 
the  monastery.  Henry  Knighton,  writing  in  the 
time  of  Richard  IL,  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  em- 
inent was  John  Wyclif,  professor  at  Oxford,  and 
rector  of  Lutterworth,  greatest  scholar  of  the  age. 
Wyclif  andthe  The  carccr  of  this  man  is  a  striking  com- 
mentary upon  the  difference  between 
England  and  continental  Europe  in  the  Middle 
Ages.  Wy(;lif  denied  transubstantiation,  disap- 
proved of  auricular  confession,  oi)})osed  the  pay- 
ment 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 


ROMAN  IDEA  AND  ENGLISH  IDEA.         43 

even  denounced  the  reigning  pope  as  Antichrist; 
yet  he  was  not  put  to  death,  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  Greg- 
ory XI.  issued  five  bulls  against  him,  addressed  to 
the  king,  the  archbishop  of  Canterbury,  and  the 
university  of  Oxford  ;  but  their  dictatorial  tone  of- 
fended 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  tram- 
pled 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  author- 
ity was  defied  by  Henry  VIII.,  it  soon  became  ap- 
parent that  England  was  half-Protestant  already. 
It  then  ai)peared  also  that  in  this  Reformation  there 
were  two  forces  cooperating,  —  the  sentiment  of 
national  independence  which  would  not  brook  dic- 
tation from  Rome,  and  the  Puritan  sentiment  of 
revolt  against  the  hierarchy  in  general.  The  first 
sentiment  had  found  expression  again  and  again 
in  refusals  to  pay  tribute  to  Rome,  in  defiance  of 
papal  bulls,  and  in  the  famous  statutes  of  pra'iiui' 
nire,  which  made  it  a  criminal  offence  to  acknowl- 
edge an}'  authority  in  England  higher  than  the 
1  Milman,  Lot.  Christ,  vii.  395. 


44     777^  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

crown.  The  revolt  of  Henry  VIII.  was  simply  the 
Political  char-  Carrying  out  of  these  acts  of  Edward  I. 
vm/sr^voi?  and  Edward  III.  to  their  logical  conclu- 
agamstRome.  g-^^  j^  completed  the  detachment  of 
England  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  dif- 
fered from  her  father  in  not  caring  a  straw  for  the- 
ology, was  by  temperament  and  policy  conservative. 
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  es- 
poused by  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  sublime  figure   of   Hugh    Latimer, 

The  yeoman,  o  o  ' 

Hugh  Lati-       most   dauutlcss   of   preachers,  the  one 

mer.  '■ 

man  before  whose  stern  rebuke  the  head- 
strong and  masterful  Tudor  monarch  quailed.  It 
was  Latimer  that  renewed  the  work  of  Wyclif,  and 
in  his  life  as  well  as  in  his  martyrdom,  —  to  use 


ROMAN  IDEA  AND  ENGLISH  IDEA.         45 

his  own  words  of  good  cheer  uttered  while  the  fag« 
ots  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-respecting  yeo- 
manry that  has  been  the  glory  of  free  England  and 
free  America.  He  was  one  of  the  sturdy  race  that 
overthrew  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  Cam- 
bridge, and  became  the  foremost  preacher  of  Chris- 
tendom. 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  senti- 
ment of  the  people,  and  hence  it  soon  quite  outran 
the  cautious  and  conservative  policy  of  the  govern- 
ment, and  tended  to  introduce  changes  extremely 
distasteful  to  those  who  wished  to  keep  England  as 
nearly  Catholic  as  was  consistent  with  independence 
of  the  pope.  Hence  before  the  end  of  Elizabeth'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  tremendous  force 
of  this  newly  awakened  religious  enthusiasm  coop- 
erating with  the  English  love  of  self-government 
And  carrying  it  under  Cromwell  to  victory.     From 


46     THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

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 
The  moment  spccch  havc  been  labouring  for  the  polit- 
triumpiTwM^  ical  regeneration  of  mankind.  But  for 
caimomeut*''  this  alliaucc  of  forccs,  it  is  quite  possi- 
in  history.        j^j^  ^^^  ^^^  f atef ul  Seventeenth  century 

might  have  seen  desjjotism  triumphant  in  England 
as  on  the  continent  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  tendencies  were  shaping  them- 
selves 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  hor}-ible  slaugh- 
ter of  the  Albigenses  had  deprived  France  of  the 
very  people  who  might  have  played  a  part  in  some 
way  analogous  to  that  of  the  Lollards.  Conse- 
quently the  Protestant  movement  in  France  failed 
to  become  a  national  movement.  Against  the 
Contract  with  wrctchcd  Hcury  III.  who  would  have 
of^kugue-  temporized  with  it,  and  the  gallant 
nota.  Henry   IV.   who  honestly  espoused  it, 

the  oppressed  peasantry  and  townsmen  made  com- 
mon 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  com- 
prehend.    Hence  the  great  king  who  would  have 


ROMAN  IDEA  AND  ENGLISH  IDEA.         47 

been  glad  to  make  France  a  Protestant  country 
could  only  obtain  his  crown  by  renouncing  his 
religion,  while  seeking  to  protect  it  by  his  memor- 
able 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  community  was  carried  to  completion,  and 
seven  per  cent,  of  the  population  of  France  was 
driven  away  and  added  to  the  Protestant  popula- 
tions of  northern  Germany  and  England  and 
America.  The  gain  to  these  countries  and  the 
damage  to  France  was  far  greater  than  the  mere 
figures  would  imply ;  for  in  determining  the  char- 
acter of  a  community  a  hundred  selected  men 
and  women  are  more  potent  than  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  triumphs  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  tremen- 
dous was  the  question  at  stake  with  the  Puritans 
of  the  seventeenth  century.  Everywhere  else  the 
lioman  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 


48     THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

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  save  the  work 
Victory  of  the  ^^  ^^^  Reformation  in  central  Europe 
EngUshidea.  g^jj^j  gg^  ^  motion  the  train  of  events 
that  were  at  last  to  make  the  people  of  the 
Teutonic  fatherland  a  nation.  At  that  same  mo- 
ment the  keenest  minds  in  France  were  awaking 
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  trans- 
planted into  French  soil,  produced  that  violent  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  sovereignty  with  liberty,  inde- 
structible 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  of  a  Napo- 
leon 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  impossible  to  assign  a  date, 


ROMAN  IDEA  AND  ENGLISH  IDEA.        49 

because  it  is  not  an  event  but  a  stage  in  the  endless 
procession  of  events.  But  we  can  point  to  land- 
marks on  the  way.  Of  movements  significant  and 
prophetic  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 
potent  agency  in  this  transfer.  In  these  gigantic 
processes  of  evolution  we  cannot  mark  beginnings 
or  endings  by  years,  hardly  even  by  cen- 
turies. But  among  the  significant  events  of^he*Puritaa 
which  prophesied  the  final  triumph  of 
the  English  over  the  Roman  idea,  perhaps  the 
most  significant  —  the  one  which  marks  most  in- 
cisively the  dawning  of  a  new  era  —  was  the  mi- 
gration of  English  Puritans  across  the  Atlantic 
Ocean,  to  repeat  in  a  new  environment  and  on  a 
far  grander  scale  the  work  which  their  forefathers 
had  wrought  in  Britain.  The  voyage  of  the  May- 
flower 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  Mississippi ;  from  the  men  who 
spoke  Latin  to  the  men  who  speak  English.  In 
the  course  of  the  exposition  we  began  to  catch 
glimpses  of  the  wonderful  significance  of  the  fact 
that  —  among  the  people  who  had  first  suggested 
the  true  solution  of  the  difficult  problem  of  mak- 
ing a  powerful  nation  without  sacrificing  local  self- 
government  —  when  the  supreme  day  of  trial  came, 
the  dominant  religious  sentiment  was  arrayed  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  affair  when  con- 
trasted with  the  gigantic  but  comparatis'ely  insig- 
nificant work  of  barbarians  like  Jinghis  or  Tamer- 
lane. But  if  we  consider  the  moral  and  j)olitical 
issues  involved,  and  the  influence  of  the  struggle 
upon  the  future  welfare  of  mankind,  we  soon  como 
to  see  that  there  never  was  a  conflict  of  more 
world-wide  importance  than  that  from  which  Oliver 


THE  PURITAN  EXODUS.  51 

Cromwell  came  out  victorious.  It  shattered  the 
monarchical  power  in  England  at  a  influence  of 
time  when  monarchical  power  was  bear-  ^IftJi'^m 
ing  down  all  opposition  in  the  other  ^^°'^- 
great  countries  of  Europe.  It  decided  that  gov- 
ernment by  the  people  and  for  the  people  should 
not  then  perish  from  the  earth.  It  placed  free 
England  in  a  position  of  such  moral  advantage 
that  within  another  century  the  English  Idea  ot 
political  life  was  able  to  react  most  powerfully 
upon  continental  Europe.  It  was  the  study  of 
English  institutions  by  such  men  as  Montesquieu 
and  Turgot,  Voltaire  and  Rousseau,  that  gave 
shape  and  direction  to  the  French  Revolution. 
That  violent  but  wholesome  clearing  of  the  air, 
that  tremendous  political  and  moral  awakening, 
which  ushered  in  the  nineteenth  century  in  Europe, 
had  its  sources  in  the  spirit  which  animated  the 
preaching  of  Latimer,  the  song  of  Milton,  the  sol- 
emn imagery  of  Bunyan,  the  political  treatises  of 
Locke  and  Sidney,  the  political  measures  of 
Hampden  and  Pym.  The  noblest  type  of  modern 
European  statesmanship,  as  represented  by  Maz- 
zini  and  Stein,  is  the  spiritual  offspring  of  seven- 
teenth-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  reli- 


52     THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

gious  enthusiasm  wdth  the  instinct  of  self-govern- 
ment and  the  spirit  of  personal  independence  that 
the  preservation  of  English  freedom  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  possession  of  a  system  of  doctrines 
held  in  common.  The  name  by  which  they  were 
known  was  a  nickname  which  might  cover  almost 
any  amount  of  diversity  in  opinion,  like  the  mod- 
ern epithets  "  free-thinker  "  and  "  agnostic."  The 
Work  of  the  feature  which  characterized  the  Lollards 
Lollards.  jjj  commou  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  cathedral,  now  in 
the  churchyard  or  market-place,  or  on  some  green 
hillside.  During  the  fifteenth  century  persecution 
did  much  to  check  this  open   preaching,  but  pas« 


THE  PURITAN  EXODUS.  53 

sages  from  Wyclif'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  neigh- 
bours, and  not  mere  nominatives  governing  a  verb, 
or  ablatives  of  means  or  instrument.  Now  it 
became  possible  for  the  layman  to  contrast  the 
pure  teachings  of  Christ  with  the  doctrines  and 
demeanour  of  the  priests  and  monks  to  whom  the 
spiritual  guidance  of  Englishmen  had  been  en- 
trusted. Strong  and  self-respecting  men  and 
women,  accustomed  to  manage  their  own  affairs, 
could  not  but  be  profoundly  affected  by  the  con- 
trast. 

While  they  were  thus  led  more  and  more  to 
appeal  to  the  Bible  as  the  divine  standard  of  right 
living  and  right  thinking,  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,  cosmi- 
cal  theories  and  priestly  injunctions,  profound 
metaphysics  and  pithy  proverbs,  psalms  of  unri- 
vailed  grandeur  and  pastorals  of  exquisite  loveli- 
ness, parables  fraught  with  solemn  meaning,  the 


54     THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

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  Eng- 
lish literature  for  the  common  people,  this  untold 
wealth  of  Hebrew  literature  was  implanted  in  the 
English  mind  as  in  a  virgin  soil.  Great  conse- 
quences 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 
every-day  speech  with  apt  and  telling  phrases  — 
was  the  literature  comprised  within  the  Bible. 
The  superiority  of   the  common    Eng- 


The  English 

versic 

Bible 


version  of  the  Hsh  vcrsiou  of  tlic  Bible,  made  in  the 


reign  of  James  I.,  over  all  other  ver- 
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  sui'passed 
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  reason  for  this  is  obvious. 
The  common  English  version  of  the  Bible  was 
made  by  men  who  were  not  aiming  at  literary 
effect,  but  simply  gave  natural  expression  to  the 
feelings  which  for  several  generations  had  clustered 
around  the  sacred  text.  They  spoke  witli  the  voice 
of  a  people,  which  is  more  than  the  voice  of  the 
most  highly  gifted  man.  They  spoke  with  the  voice 
f>f  a  people  to  whom  the  Bible  had  come  to  mean 
aU  that  it  meant  to  the  men  who  wrote  it.     To 


THE  PURITAN  EXODUS.  65 

the  Englishmen  who  listened  to  Latimer,  to  the 
Scotchmen  who  listened  to  Knox,  the  Bible  more 
than  filled  the  place  which  in  modern  times  is 
filled  by  poem  and  essay,  by  novel  and  newspaper 
and  scientific  treatise.  To  its  pages  they  went  for 
daily  instruction  and  comfort,  with  its  strange 
Semitic  names  they  baptized  their  children,  upon 
its  precepts,  too  often  misunderstood  and  misap- 
plied, they  sought  to  build  up  a  rule  of  life  that 
might  raise  them  above  the  crude  and  unsatisfy- 
ing world  into  which  they  were  born. 

It  would  be  wroiig  to  accredit  all  this  awaken- 
ing of  spiritual  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  sudden- 
ness. Because  the  Lollards  were  not  a  clearly  de- 
fined sect,  it  was  hard  to  trace  the  manifold  ramifi- 
cations of  their  work.  During  the  terrible  Wars 
of  the  lioses,  contemporary  chroniclers  had  little 
or  nothing  to  say  about  the  labours  of  these  humble 
men,  which  seemed  of  less  importance  than  now, 
when  we  read  them  in  the  light  of  their  world-wide 
results.  From  this  silence  some  modern  historians 
have  carelessly  inferred  that  the  nascent  Protest- 
antism of  the  Lollards  had  been  extinguished  by 


66     THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

persecution  under  the  Lancastrian  kings,  and  was 
in  nowise  continuous  with  modern  English  Protest- 
antism. Nothing  could  be  more  erroneous.  The 
extent  to  which  the  Lollard  leaven  had  permeated 
all  classes  of  English  society  was  first  clearly  re- 
vealed when  Henry  VIII.  made  his  domestic  af« 
fairs  the  occasion  for  a  revolt  against  the  Papacy. 
Despot  and  brute  as  he  was  in  many  ways,  Henry 
had  some  characteristics  which  enabled  him  to  get 
on  well  with  his  people.  He  not  only  represented 
the  sentiment  of  national  independence,  but  he  had 
a  truly  English  reverence  for  the  forms  of  law.  In 
his  worst  acts  he  relied  upon  the  support  of  his 
Parliament,  which  he  might  in  various  ways  cajole 
or  pack,  but  could  not  really  enslave.  In  his  quar- 
rel with  Rome  he  could  have  achieved 
Henry  viii.'s  but  little,  had  he  not  happened  to  strike 
in  his  revolt  a  chord  of  feeling  to  which  the  English 
people,  trained  by  this  slow  and  subtle 
work  of  the  Lollards,  responded  quickly  and  with 
a  vehemence  upon  which  he  had  not  reckoned.  As 
if  by  magic,  the  fabric  of  Romanism  was  broken 
to  pieces  in  England,  monasteries  were  suppressed 
and  their  abbots  hanged,  the  authority  of  the  Pope 
was  swept  away,  and  there  was  no  powerful  party, 
like  that  of  the  Guises  in  France,  to  make  such 
sweeping  measures  the  occasion  for  civil  war.  The 
whole  secret  of  Henry's  swift  success  lay  in  the 
fact  that  the  English  people  were  already  more 
than  half  Protestant  in  temper,  and  needed  only 
an  occasion  for  declaring  themselves.  Hence,  as 
soon  as  Catholic  Henry  died,  his  youthful  son 
found  himself  seated  on  the  throne  of  a  Protestant 


THE  PURITAN  EXODUS.  57 

nation.  The  terrible  but  feeble  persecution  which 
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  the  grand-daughter  „ 

.     •'  o  o   ,  Effects  of  the 

of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  the  doting:  persecution 

o    under  Mary. 

wife  of  Philip  II.,  was  rightly  felt  to  be 
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  Englishwoman  in  every  fibre,  and  whose  mother 
withal  was  the  daughter  of  a  plain  country  gentle- 
man. But  the  Marian  persecution  not  only  in- 
creased the  strength  of  the  extreme  Protestant 
sentiment,  but  indirectly  it  supplied  it  with  that 
Calvinistic  theology  which  was  to  make  it  indomi- 
table. Of  the  hundreds  of  ministers  and  laymen 
who  fled  from  England  in  1555  and  the  two  fol- 
lowing years,  a  great  part  found  their  way  to 
Geneva,  and  thus  came  under  the  immediate  per- 
sonal 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.  Ilis  theology  had  much 
in  it   that   is  in  striking   harmony  with   modern 


58     THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

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  nat- 
ural to  speak  of  the  genial,  whole-souled,  many- 
sided,  mirth-and-song-loving  Luther.  Nevertheless 
it  would  be  hard  to  overrate  the  debt  which  man- 
kind owe  to  Calvin.  The  spiritual  father  of  Co- 
ligny,  of  William  the  Silent,  and  of  Cromwell 
must  occupy  a  foremost  rank  among  the  champions 
of  modem  democracy.  Perhaps  not  one  of  the 
mediaeval  popes  was  more  despotic  in  temper  than 
Calvin ;  but  it  is  not  the  less  true  that  the  promul- 
Caivin's  the-  g3,tion  of  his  thcology  was  one  of  the 
nS'bear-^"  lougcst  stcps  that  mankind  have  taken 
ings.  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  infin- 
ite value,  and  the  possession  of  it  was  the  subject 
of  an  everlasting  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 


THE  PURITAN  EXODUS.  59 

ouppllants  for  his  grace.  Calvin  did  not  originate 
these  doctrines ;  in  announcing  them  he  was  but 
setting  forth,  as  he  said,  the  Institutes  of  the 
Christian  religion  ;  but  in  emphasizing  this  aspect 
of  Christianity,  in  engraving  it  upon  men'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,  constituting  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  Cal- 
vinistic  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  been 
going  on  since  the  days  of  Wyclif.  Upon  such 
men  and  their  theories  Elizabeth  could  not  look 
with  favour.  With  all  her  father's  despotic  tem- 
per, 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. 


60     THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

One  day  Elizabeth  asked  a  lady  of  the  court  how 
she  contrived  to  retain  her  husband's  affection. 
The  lady  replied  that  "  she  had  confidence  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  husband  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  hus- 
bands, 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  cir- 

Ehzabeth's 

policy,  and  its  cumstauccs  in  which  England  was  then 

effects.  _  ° 

placed ;  but  it  could  hardly  be  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  re- 
spected 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  mon- 
archy might  dash  itself  into  pieces.  She  therefore 
hated  the  Puritans,  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  with- 
out helping  the  Dutch  and  the  Huguenots ;  but 
every  soldier  she  sent  across  the  channel  came  back, 
^  Oardiner,  The  Puritan  Revolution,  p.  12. 


THE  PURITAN  EXODUS.  61 

if  he  came  at  all,  with  his  head  full  of  the  doctrines 
of  Calvin ;  and  these  stalwart  converts  were  rein- 
forced by  the  refugees  from  France  and  the  Neth- 
erlands who  came  flocking  into  English  towns  to  set 
up  their  thrifty  shops  and  hold  prayer-meetings  in 
their  humble  chapels.  To  guard  the  kingdom 
against  the  intrigues  of  Philip  and  the  Guises  and 
the  Queen  of  Scots,  it  was  necessary  to  choose  the 
most  zealous  Protestants  for  the  most  responsible 
positions,  and  such  men  were  more  than  likely  to 
be  Calvinists  and  Puritans.  Elizabeth's  great 
ministers,  Burleigh,  Walsingham,  and  Nicholas 
Bacon,  were  inclined  toward  Puritanism;  and  so 
were  the  naval  heroes  who  won  the  most  fruitful 
victories  of  that  century,  by  shattering  the  mari- 
time power  of  Spain  and  thus  opening  the  way  for 
Englishmen  to  colonize  North  America.  If  we 
would  realize  the  dangers  that  would  have  beset  the 
Mayflower  and  her  successors  but  for  the  prepar- 
atory 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  con- 
stant in  prayer  or  more  assiduous  in  reading  the 
Bible  than  the  dauntless  rovers,  Drake  puritanaeik. 
and  Hawkins,  Gilbert  and  Cavendish.  '*"'*"• 
In  the  church  itself,  too,  the  Puritan  spirit  grew 
until  in  1575-83  it  seized  upon  Griudal,  archbishop 
of  Canterbury,  who  incurred  the  queen's  disfavour 
by  refusing  to  meddle  with  the  troublesome  reform 


62     THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

,ers  or  to  suppress  their  prophesyings.  By  the  end 
of  the  century  the  majority  of  country  gentle- 
men and  of  wealthy  merchants  in  the  towns  had 
become  Puritans,  and  the  new  views  had  made 
great  headway  in  both  universities,  while  at  Cam- 
ibridge  they  had  become  dominant. 
j  This  allusion  to  the  universities  may  serve  to  in- 
troduce the  very  interesting  topic  of  the  geograph- 
ical distribution  of  Puritanism  in  England.  No 
one  can  study  the  history  of  the  two  universities 
without  being  impressed  with  the  greater  conserva- 
tism of  Oxford,  and  the  greater  hospitality  of  Cam- 
bridge toward  new  ideas.  Possibly  the  explanation 
may  have  some  connection  with  the  situation  of  Cam- 
bridge upon  the  East  Anglian  border.  The  east- 
ern counties  of  England  have  often  been  remarked 
as  rife  in  heresy  and  independency.  For  many 
generations  the  coast  region  between  the  Thames 
and  the  Humber  was  a  veritable  litus  hmreticum. 
Longland,  bishop  of  Lincoln  in  1520,  reported  Lol- 
lardism  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 
Puritanism  was  as  member  and  leading  8])irit  of  the 
i^^hooasfern  Eastcm  Couutics  Associatiou  that  Oli- 
fountiea.  ^^^  CromwcU  bcgan  his  militaiy  career; 
an  1  in  so  far  as  there  was  anything  sectional  in  the 
struggle  between  Charles  I.  and  the  Long  Parlia- 
ment, it  was  a  struggle  which  ended  in  the  victory 


THE  PURITAN  EXODUS.  63 

of  east  over  west.  East  Anglia  was  from  first  to 
last  the  one  region  in  which  the  supremacy  of  Par- 
liament wau  unquestionable  and  impregnable,  even 
after  the  strength  of  its  population  had  been  dimin- 
ished by  sending  some  th)usands  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.  Per- 
haps 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-coun- 
try ;  one-sixth  might  follow  it  to  those  southwest- 
em  countries  —  Devonshire,  Dorset,  and  Somerset 
—  which  so  long  were  foremost  in  maritime  enter- 
prise ;  one-sixth  to  other  parts  of  England.  I 
would  not  insist  upon  the  exactness  of  such  figures, 
in  a  matter  where  only  a  rough  approximation  is 
possible  ;  but  I  do  not  think  they  overstate  the 
East  Anglian  preponderance.  It  was  not  by  acci- 
dent that  the  earliest  counties  of  Mas- 

Preponder- 

sachusetts  were  called  Norfolk,  Suffolk,  ance  of  East 

,  Anglia  in  the 

and  Essex,  or  that  Boston  in  Lincoln-  Puritan  exo- 

.  ,  dug. 

shire  gave  its  name  to  the  chief  city  of 
New  P^ngland.  The  native  of  Connecticut  or  Mas- 
sachusetts who  wanders  about  rural  England  to-day 
finds  no  ])art  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  un« 


64     THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

wontedly  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  farm- 
house, 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  neigh- 
bours in  startling  proximity,  somewhat  worn  and 
effaced  by  the  countless  feet  that  have  trodden 
there.  And  yonder  on  the  village  green  one  comes 
with  bated  breath  upon  the  simple  inscrij)ti()n  which 
tells  of  some  humble  hero  who  on  that  spot  in  the 
evil  reign  of  Mary  suffered  death  by  fire.  Pursu- 
ing thus  our  interesting  journey,  we  may  come  at 
last  to  the  quiet  villages  of  Austerfield  and  Scrooby, 
on  opposite  banks  of  the  river  Idle,  and  just  at  the 
comer  of  the  three  shires  of  Lincoln,  York,  and 
Nottingham.  It  was  from  this  point  that  the  Puri- 
tan exodus  to  America  was  begun. 

It  was  not,  however,  in  the  main  stream  of  Puri- 
tanism, but  in  one  of  its  obscure  rivulets  that  this 


THE  PURITAN  EXODUS.  65 

world-famous  movement  originated.  During  the 
reign  of  Elizabeth  it  was  not  the  purpose  of  the 
Puritang-Jp  separate  ^mselves  from  the  estab- 
lished 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  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  advanced  liberalism  of  Elizabeth's 
time  was  not  to  be  found  among  the  was  not  intew 
Puritans,  but  in  the  magnificent  treatise  with  uberai- 
on  "  Ecclesiastical  Polity  "  by  the  church- 
man Richard  Hooker.  But  the  liberalism  of  this 
great  writer,  like  that  of  Erasmus  a  century  ear- 
lier, was  not  militant  enough  to  meet  the  sterner 
demands  of  the  time.  It  could  not  then  ally  itself 
with  the  democratic  spirit,  as  Puritanism  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  reformation 
could  then  be  effected.  In  her  antipathy  to  this 
democratic  movement,  Elizabeth  vexed  and  tor- 
mented the  Puritans  as  far  as  she  deemed  it  pru- 
dent ;  and  in  the  conservative  temper  of  the  people 
she  found  enough  support  to  prevent  their  tran&- 


66     THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

forming  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  Elizabeth's  reign  that  the  zeal  of 
these  extreme  brethren,  inflamed  by  persecution, 
gave  rise  to  the  sect  of  Separatists,  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,  con- 
,  sisting  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.  By  1576 
the  Separatists  had  come  to  be  recognized  as  a  sect, 

under  the  lead  of  Robert  Brown,  a  man 
and  the  ^pa-    of  high  social   positiou,  related    to  the 

great  Lord  Burleigh.  Brown  fled  to 
Holland,  where  he  preached  to  a  congregation  of 
English  exiles,  and  wrote  books  which  were  smug- 
gled into  England  and  privately  circulated  there, 
much  to  the  disgust,  not  only  of  the  queen,  but  of 
all  parties,  Puritans  as  well  as  High  Churchmen. 
The  great  majority  of  Puritans,  whose  aim  was  not 
to  leave  the  church,  but  to  stay  in  it  and  control  it, 
looked  with  dread  and  disapproval  upon  these  ex- 
tremists who  seemed  likely  to  endanger  their  suc- 
cess by  forcing  them  into  deadly  opposition  to  the 
crown.     Just  as  in  the  years  which  ushered  in  our 


THE  PURITAN  EXODUS.  67 

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  Republicans,  in  resenting  the  imputation, 
went  so  far  as  to  frown  upon  the  Abolitionists,  so 
that  in  December,  1860,  men  who  had  just  voted 
for  Mr.  Lincoln  were  ready  to  join  in  breaking  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  Sep- 
aratists, 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  in- 
stances 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  pamphlet 
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  him  so  vehemently  as  if 
they  meant  to  beat  him  into  a  jelly.  It  is  ambig- 
uous 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 


68     THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

in  the  like  manner."  For  their  leaders  the  penalty 
was  more  serious.  The  denial  of  the  queen's  ec- 
clesiastical supremacy  could  be  treated  as  high 
treason,  and  two  of  Brown's  friends,  convicted  of 
circulating  his  books,  were  sent  to  the  gallows.  In 
spite  of  these  dangers  Brown  returned  to  England 
in  1585.  William  the  Silent  had  lately  been  mur- 
dered, and  heresy  in  Holland  was  not  yet  safe 
from  the  long  arm  of  the  Spaniard.  Brown 
trusted  in  Lord  Burleigh's  ability  to  protect  him, 
but  in  1588,  finding  himself  in  imminent  danger, 
he  suddenly  recanted  and  accepted  a  comfortable 
living  under  the  bishops  who  had  just  condemned 
him.  His  followers  were  already  known  as  Brown- 
ists ;  henceforth  their  enemies  took  pains  to  call 
them  so  and  twit  them  with  holding  doctrines  too 
weak  for  making  martyrs. 

The  flimsiness  of  Brown's  moral  texture  pre- 
vented him  from  becoming  the  leader  in  the  Puri- 
tan exodus  to  New  England.  That  honour  was 
William  reserved  for  William  Brewster,  son  of 

Brewster.  ^  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  secretary  to  Sir  William  Davison, 
whom  he  accompanied  on  his  mission  to  the  Neth- 
erlands. When  Davison's  public  career  came  to 
an  end  in  1587,  Brewster  returned  to  Scrooby,  and 
soon  afterward  succeeded  his  father  as  postmaster, 
in  which  position  he  remained  until  1607.  During 
the  interval  Elizabeth  died,  and  James  Stuart  came 
from  Scotland  to  take  her  place  on  the  throne. 


THE  PURITAN  EXODUS.  69 

The  feelings  with  which  the  late  queen  had  re- 
garded 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  memory  treasured  up  the  day  when 
a  mighty  Puritan  preacher  had  in  public  twitched 
him  by  the  sleeve  and  called  him  "  God's  silly  vas- 
sal." "  I  tell  you,  sir,"  said  Andrew  Melville  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  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  gov- 
ern 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  philosophy  of  Puritanism,  as  in  a 
nutshell.  Under  the  guise  of  theocratic  fanaticism, 
and  in  words  as  arrogant  as  ever  fell  from  priestly 
lips,  there  was  couched  the  assertion  of  the  popu- 
lar will  against  despotic  privilege.  Mel- 
ville could  say  such  things  to  the  king's  and  Andrew 

\f   1    'II 

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  work  in  England.  He 
despised  Elizabeth's  grand  national  policy  which 
*  Green,  Uigtory  of  the  English  People,  iii.  47. 


70      THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

his  narrow  intellect  could  not  comprehend.  He 
could  see  that  in  fighting  Spain  and  aiding  Dutch- 
tnen  and  Huguenots  she  was  strengthening  the 
yery  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  fear- 
less, and  he  cared  more  for  James  Stuart  than  for 
either  England  or  Scotland.  He  had  an  over- 
weening opinion  of  his  skill  in  kingcraft.  In  com- 
ing 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  tlie  monarchical  prin- 
ciple the  strongest  forces  of  English  life,  —  the 
sentiment  of  nationality,  the  sentiment  of  personal 
freedom,  and  the  uncompromising  religious  fervour 
of  Calvinism ;  and  out  of  this  invincible  combina- 
tion 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  cler- 
gymen to  meet  himself  and  the  bishops  in  a  con- 
ference at  Hampton  Court,  as  he  wished  to  learn 
what  changes  they  would  like  to  make  in  the  gov- 
ernment and  ritual  of  the  church.     In  the  course 


THE  PURITAN  EXODUS.  71 

of  the  discussion  he  lost  his  temper  and  stormed,  as 
was  his  wont.  The  mention  of  the  word  "  presby- 
tery "  lashed  him  into  fury.  "  A  Scottish  presby- 
tery," he  cried,  "  agreeth  as  well  with  a  monarchy 
as  God  and  the  Devil.  Then  Jack  and  Kin-james's 
Tom  and  Will  and  Dick  shall  meet,  and  po^ii;;;^  dtu.» 
at  their  pleasures  censure  me  and  my  ^'^^ 
council,  and  all  our  proceedings.  .  .  .  Stay,  I  pray 
you,  for  one  seven  years,  before  you  demand  that 
from  me,  and  if  then  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 
inspiration  from  Heaven  !  The  Puritans  saw  that 
their  only  hope  lay  in  resistance.  If  any  doubt 
remained,  it  was  dispelled  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  executioner.  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  of  secession.  The  key-note  of 
the  conflict  was  struck  at  Scrooby.  Staunch  Pu- 
ritan as  he  was,  Brewster  had  not  hitherto  favoured 
the  extreme  measures  of  the  Separatists.  Now  he 
withdrew  from  the  church,  and  gathered  together 


72     THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

a  company  of  men  and  women  who  met  on  Sun« 
days  for  divine  service  in  his  own  drawing-room 
The  congrega-  f  *  Scrooby  Manor.  In  organizing  this 
Mtuteat*'^'  independent  Congregationalist  society, 
Scrooby.  Brcwstcr  was  powerfully  aided  by  John 

Kobinson,  a  native  of  Lincolnshire.  Robinson 
was  then  thirty  years  of  age,  and  had  taken  bis 
master's  degree  at  Cambridge  in  1600.  He  was  a 
man  of  great  learning  and  rare  sweetness  of  tem- 
per, and  was  moreover  distinguished  for  a  broad 
and  tolerant  habit  of  mind  too  seldom  found 
among  the  Puritans  of  that  day.  Friendly  and 
unfriendly  writers  alike  bear  witness  to  his  spirit 
of  Christian  charity  and  the  comparatively  slight 
value  which  he  attached  to  orthodoxy  in  points  of 
doctrine  ;  and  we  can  hardly  be  wrong  in  suppos- 
ing that  the  comparatively  tolerant  behaviour  of 
the  Plymouth  colonists,  whereby  they  were  con- 
trasted with  the  settlers  of  Massachusetts,  was  in 
some  measure  due  to  the  abiding  influence  of  the 
teachings  of  this  admirable  man.  Another  impor- 
tant 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 
historian  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 


THE  PURITAN  EXODUS.  73 

truculent  threat  —  that  this  independent  church  of 
Serooby  was  organized.  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  suc- 
ceeded a  few  months  later  in  accomplishing  their 
flight  to  Amsterdam,  where  they  hoped  to  find  a 
home.  But  here  they  found  the  English  exiles 
who  had  preceded  them  so  fiercely  involved  in  doc- 
trinal 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  Ley  den  in  1609,  just 
as  the  Spanish  government  had  sullenly  ^^  ^^^^^  ^ 
abandoned  the  hopeless  task  of  conquer-  Holland. 
ing  the  Dutch,  and  had  granted  to  Holland  the 
Twelve  Years  Truce.  During  eleven  of  these 
twelve  years  the  Pilgrims  remained  in  Leyden, 
supporting  themselves  by  various  occupations, 
while  their  numbers  increased  from  300  to  more 
than  1000.  Brewster  opened  a  publishing  house, 
devoted  mainly  to  the  issue  of  theological  books. 
Robinson  accepted  a  professorship  in  the  university, 
and  engaged  in  the  defence  of  Calvinism  against 
the  attacks  of  Episcopius,  the  successor  of  Armin- 
ius.  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  Ley* 


74     THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

den,  the  Pilgrims  were  introduced  to  a  strange  and 
novel  spectacle,  —  the  systematic  legal  toleration 
of  all  persons,  whether  Catholic  or  Protestant,  who 
called  themselves  followers  of  Christ.  Not  that 
there  was  not  plenty  of  intolerance  in  spirit,  but  the 
policy  inaugurated  by  the  idolized  William  the  Si- 
lent held  it  in  check  by  law.  All  persons  who  came 
to  Holland,  and  led  decorous  lives  there,  were  pro- 
tected in  their  opinions  and  customs.  By  contem- 
porary writers  in  other  countries  this  eccentric  be- 
haviour of  the  Dutch  government  was  treated  with 
unspeakable  scorn.  "  All  strange  religions  flock 
thither,"  says  one ;  it  is  "  a  common  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  Hol- 
land as  scattered  bands  of  refugees,  they  might  have 
been  absorbed  into  the  Dutch  population,  as  Hu- 
guenot refugees  have  been  absorbed  in  Germany, 
England,  and  America.     But  they  had 

Why  the  Pil-  °  ,        -  .  ^ 

grimsdidnot  comc  as  an  organized  community,  and 
absorption  into  a  foreign  nation  was 
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 

^  Steele's  Life  of  Brewster,  p.  161. 


THE  PURITAN  EXODUS.  75 

strong  in  them ;  the  spirit  of  self-government  was 
strong  in  them ;  and  the  only  thing  which  could  sat- 
isfy these  feelings  was  such  a  migration  as  had  not 
been  seen  since  ancient  times,  a  migration  like  thai 
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  favour- 
able outlook  was  upon  the  Atlantic  coast  of  Amer- 
ica, where  English  cruisers  had  now  successfully 
disputed  the  pretensions  of  Spain,  and  where  after 
forty  years  of  disappointment  and  disaster  a  flour- 
ishing colony  had  at  length  been  founded  in  Vir- 
ginia. The  colonization  of  the  North  American 
coast  had  now  become  part  of  the  avowed  policy  of 
the  British  government.  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  Devon- 
shire. Hence  the  two  branches  are  commonly 
spoken  of  as  the  London  and  Plymouth  companies 
The  former  was  also  called  the  Vir- 
ginia Company,  and  the  latter  the  North  ami  Plymouth 

__...„  ,  .  ^j.  companies. 

Virgmia  Company,  as  the  name  of  Vir- 
ginia was  then  loosely  applied  to  the  entire  Atlan- 
tic coast  north  of  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  to  go  to  whichever  company  sh<mld 
first   plant   a   self-supporting  colony.     The   locaj 


76      THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

government  of  each  colony  was  to  be  entrusted  to 
a  council  resident  in  America  and  nominated  by 
the  king ;  while  general  supervision  over  both  col- 
onies 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  James- 
town had  been  begun  in  1607,  and  its  success  was 
now  beginning  to  seem  assured.  On  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  America,  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   Elizabeth 

First  explora-    _  i.-n  n-r»  t  r^ 

cionoftiieNew  islands  xii  rJuzzarcl  s  Bay;  and  on  Cutty- 

England  coast.    ,,,,.,  ,  .   ,      ,        . 

hunk  they  built  some  huts  with  the  inten- 
tion of  remaining,  but  after  a  month's  experience 
they  changed  their  mind  and  went  back  to  England. 
Gosnold's  story  interested  other  captains,  and  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  England,  that  they  might  learn  the  lan- 
guage and  acquire  a  wholesome  respect  for  the  arts 
of  civilization  and  the  resistless  power  of  white 
men.     llis  glowing  accounts  of  the  spacious  har- 


THE  PURITAN  EXODUS.  77 

oours,  the  abundance  of  fish  and  game,  the  noble 
trees,  the  luxuriant  herbage,  and  the  balmy  climate, 
aroused  general  interest  in  England,  and  doubtless 
had  some  influence  upon  the  formation,  in  the  fol- 
lowing 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  James- 
town, a  party  of  120  colonists,  led  by  the  judge's 
kinsman  George  Popham,  landed  at  the  mouth  of 
the  Kennebec,  and  proceeded  to  build  a  rude  vil- 
lage of  some  fifty  cabins,  with  storehouse,  chapel, 
and  block-house.  When  they  landed  in  August 
they  doubtless  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  alter- 
nate 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  aban- 
doned 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  1614  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  hit 


78     THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

fame  is  associated  with  the  beginnings  of  both  the 
southern  and  the  northern  portions  of  the  United 
States.  To  Virginia  Smith  may  be  said  to  have 
,  ^   „  .         given  its   very  existence  as  a  common- 

John  Smith.        °  x-  -r>        i 

wealth  ;  to  ^iew  England  he  gave  its 
name.  In  1614  he  came  over  with  two  ships  to 
North  Virginia,  explored  its  coast  minutely  from 
the  Penobscot  river  to  Cape  Cod,  and  thinking  it  a 
country  of  such  extent  and  importance  as  to  deserve 
a  name  of  its  own,  rechristened  it  New  England. 
3n  returning  home  he  made  a  very  good  map  of 
the  coast  and  dotted  it  with  English  names  sug- 
gested 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  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  England.  Per- 
haps  Smith's  life  of  hardship  may  have  made  him 
prematurely  old.  After  all  his  wild  and  varied  ex- 
perience he  was  now  only  in  his  thirty-seventh  year, 
but  he  does  not  seem  to  have  gone  on  any  more  voy- 
ages. The  remaining  sixteen  years  of  his  life  were 
spent  quietly  in  England  in  writing  books,  publish- 
ing maps,  and  otherwise  stimulating  the  public  in- 
terest 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 


THE  PURITAN  EXODUS.  79 

not  so  simple  as  to  suppose  that  any  other  motive 
than  riches  would  "ever  erect  there  a  common- 
wealth or  draw  company  from  their  ease  and  hu- 
mours at  home,  to  stay  in  New  England." 

In  this  opinion,  however,  the  bold  explorer  was 
mistaken.  Of  all  migrations  of  peoples  the  settle- 
ment of  New  England  is  preeminently  the  one  in 
which  the  almighty  dollar  played  the  smaUest  part, 
however  important  it  may  since  have  become  as  a 
motive  power.  It  was  left  for  religious  enthusiasm 
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  fittest  site  for  such  a  col- 
ony. Many  were  in  favour  of  Guiana,  which  Sir 
Walter  Raleigh  had  described  in  such  glowing  col- 
ours ;  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.  Virginia  was 
then  talked  of,  but  Episcopal  ideas  had  already 
taken  root  there.  New  England,  on  the  other  hand, 
was  considered  too  cold.  Popham's  experience  was 
not  encouraging.  But  the  country  about  the  Del- 
aware river  afforded  an  opportunity  for  x,,p  pii^im. 
erecting  an  independent  colony  under  H.i^tii'l","akr 
the  jurisdiction  of  the  London  Company,  ne^"ti.e"Deu. 
and  this  seemed  the  best  course  to  j)ur-  "*"  "'"'^' 
sue.     Sir  Edwin  Sandys,  the  leading  spirit  in  the 


80     THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

London  Company,  was  favourably  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  earnings  of  the  settlers  were  to  be  thrown  into 
a  common  stock  until  these  subscribers  should  have 
been  remunerated.  A  grant  of  land  was  obtained 
from  the  London  Company,  and  the  king  was  asked 
to  protect  the  emigrants  by  a  charter,  but  this  was 
refused.  James,  however,  made  no  objections  to 
their  going,  herein  showing  himself  less  of  a  bigot 
than  Louis  XIV.  in  later  days,  who  would  not  suf- 
fer a  Huguenot  to  set  foot  in  Canada,  though 
France  was  teeming  with  Huguenots  who  would 
have  been  glad  enough  to  go.  When  James  in- 
quired how  the  colonists  expected  to  support  them- 
selves, some  one  answered,  most  likely  by  fishing. 
"  Very  good,"  quoth  the  king,  "  it  was  the  Apostles' 
own  calling."  He  declared  that  no  one  should 
molest  them  so  long  as  they  behaved  themselves 
properly.  From  this  unwonted  urbanity  it  would 
appear  that  James  anticipated  no  trouble  from  the 
new  colony.  A  few  Puritans  in  America  could  not 
do  much  to  annoy  him,  and  there  was  of  course  a 
fair  chance  of  their  perishing,  as  so  many  other  col- 
onizers had  perished. 

The  congregation  at  Leyden  did  not  think  it 
wise  to  cut  loose  from  Holland  until  they  shoidd 
have  secured  a  foothold  in  America.  It  was  but 
an  advance  guard  that  started  out  from  Delft 
haven  late  in  July,  1620,  in  the  rickety  ship  Speed- 
well, with  Brewster  and  Bradford,  and  sturdy  Milea 
Standish,  a  trained  soldier  whose  aid  was  welcome, 


THE  PURITAN  EXODUS.  81 

though  he  does  not  seem  to  have  belonged  to  the 
congregation.  Robinson  remained  at  Leyden,  and 
never  came  to  America.  After  a  brief  stop  at 
Southampton,  where  they  met  the  Mayflower  with 
friends  from  London,  the  Pilgrims  again  set  sail 
in  the  two  ships.  The  Speedwell  sprang  a  leak, 
and  they  stopped  at  Dartmouth  for  repairs.  Again 
they  started,  and  had  put  three  hundred  miles  of 
salt  water  between  themselves  and  Land's  End, 
when  the  Speedwell  leaked  so  badly  that  they  were 
forced  to  return.  When  they  dropped  anchor  at 
Plymouth  in  Devonshire,  about  twenty  were  left 
on  shore,  and  the  remainder,  exactly  one  hundred 
in  number,  crowded  into  the  Mayflower  and  on  the 
6th  of  September  started  once  more  to  voyage  of  the 
cross  the  Atlantic.  The  capacity  of  the  Mayflo«'«'-- 
little  ship  was  180  tons,  and  her  strength  was  but 
slight.  In  a  fierce  storm  in  mid-ocean  a  mainbeant 
amidships  was  wrenched  and  cracked,  and  but  for 
a  huge  iron  screw  which  one  of  the  passengers  had 
brought  from  Delft,  they  might  have  gone  to  the 
bottom.  The  foul  weather  prevented  any  accurate 
calculation  of  latitude  and  longitude,  and  they  were 
so  far  out  in  their  reckoning  that  when  they  caught 
sight  of  land  on  the  9th  of  November,  it  was  to 
Cape  Cod  that  they  had  come.  Their  patent  gave 
them  no  authority  to  settle  here,  as  it  was  beyond 
the  jurisdiction  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  11th 
they  decided  to  find  some  place  of  abode  in  this 
neighbourhood,  anticipating  no  difficulty  in  getting 


82      THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

a  patent  from  the  Plymouth  Company,  which  was 
anxious  to  obtain  settlers.  For  five  weeks  they 
stayed  in  the  ship  while  little  parties  were  explor- 
.  ing  the  coast  and  deciding  upon  the  best  site  for  a 
Founding  of  town.  It  was  purely  a  coincidence  that 
Plymouth.  |.jjg  gpQ^  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  be- 
fore 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  Popham  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, 
Standish,  and  five  other  hardy  ones  were  well 
enough  to  get  about.  At  first  they  were  crowded 
under  a  single  roof,  and  as  glimpses  were  caught 
of  dusky  savages  skulking  among  the  trees,  a  plat- 
form was  built  on  the  nearest  hill  and  a  few  can- 
non 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 


THE  PURITAN  EXODUS.  88 

going  up.  Twenty-six  acres  had  been  cleared,  and 
a  plentiful  harvest  gathered  in  ;  venison,  wild  fowl, 
and  fish  were  easy  to  obtain.  When  provisions  and 
fuel  had  been  laid  in  for  the  ensuing  winter,  Gov- 
ernor Bradford  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  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  reinforce- 
tnent,  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  Eng- 
land, she  carried  a  little  cargo  of  beaver-skins  and 
choice  wood  for  wainscoting  to  the  value  of  X500 
sterling,  as  a  first  instalment  of  the  sum  due  to  the 
merchant  adventurers.  But  this  cargo  never 
reached  England,  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  diffi- 
cult time  for  the  new  colony.  By  1624  its  success 
may  be  said  to  have  become  assured.  That  the 
Indians  in  the  neighbourhood  had  not  taken  ad- 
vantage of  the  distress  of  the  settlers  in  that  first 
winter,  and  massacred  every  one  of  them,  was  due 
to  a  remarkable  circumstance.  Early  in  1617  a 
frightful  pestilence  had  swept  over  New  England 
and  slain,  it  is  thought,  more  than  half  the  Indian 


84     THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGj..-XLK 

population  between  the  Penobscot  river  and  Nar- 
ragansett  bay.  Many  of  the  Indians  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  for  the 
murders  they  had  committed.  This  wholesome  de- 
Why  the  col-  lusiou  kept  their  tomahawks  quiet  for  a 
^k^dly  while.  When  they  saw  the  Englishmen 
theindianB.  establishing  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  medicine-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  welcome.  He  was  so  kindly  treated  that  pres- 
ently Massasoit,  principal  sachem  of  the  Wampa- 
noags,  who  dwelt  between  Narragansett  and  Cape 
Cod  bays,  came  with  a  score  of  painted  and  feath- 
ered warriors  and  squatting  on  a  gi'een  rug  and 
cushions  in  the  governor's  log-house  smoked  the 
pipe  of  peace,  while  Standish  with  half-a-dozen  mus- 
keteers stood  quietly  by.  An  offensive  and  defen- 
Bive  alliance  was  then  and  there  made  between  King 


THE  PURITAN  EXODUS.  85 

Massasoit  and  King  James,  and  the  treaty  was 
faithfully  kept  for  half  a  century.  Some  time  af- 
terward, 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.  Henceforth  the  Wampanoag  thought 
well  of  the  Pilgrim.  The  powerful  Narragansetts, 
who  dwelt  on  the  farther  side  of  the  bay,  felt  dif- 
ferently, and  thought  it  worth  while  to  try  the  ef- 
fect of  a  threat.  A  little  while  after  the  Fortune 
had  brought  its  reinforcement,  the  Narragansett 
sachem  Canonicus  sent  a  messenger  to  Plymouth 
with  a  bundle  of  newly-made  arrows  wrapped  in  a 
snake-skin.  The  messenger  threw  it  in  at  the  gov- 
ernor's door  and  made  off  with  unseemly  haste. 
Bradford  understood  this  as  a  challenge,  and  in 
this  he  was  confirmed  by  a  friendly  Wampanoag. 
The  Narragansetts  could  muster  2000  warriors,  for 
whom  forty  or  fifty  Englishmen,  even  with  fire- 
arms, were  hardly  a  fair  match  ;  but  it  would  not 
do  to  show  fear.  Bradford  stuffed  the  snake-skin 
with  powder  and  bullets,  and  sent  it  back  to  Canon- 
icus, telling  him  that  if  he  wanted  war  he  might 
come  whenever  he  liked  and  get  his  fill  of  it. 
When  the  sachem  saw  what  the  skin  contained,  he 
was  afraid  to  touch  it  or  have  it  about,  and  medi- 
cine-men, handling  it  no  doubt  gingerly  enough, 
carried  it  out  of  his  territory. 

It  was  a  fortunate  miscalculation  that  brought 
the  Pilgrims  to  New  England.  Had  they  ventured 
upon  the  lands  between  the  Hudson  and  the  Del- 
aware, they  would  probably  have  fared  worse. 
They  would  soon  have  come  into  collision  with  the 


86      THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

Dutch,  and  not  far  from  that  neighbourhood  dwelt 
the  Susquehannocks,  at  that  time  one  of  the  most 
powerful  and  ferocious  tribes  on  the  continent. 
For  the  present  the  new-comers  were  less  likely  to 
be  molested  in  the  Wampanoag  country  than  any- 
where else.  In  the  course  of  the  year  1621  they 
obtained  their  grant  from  the  Plymouth  Company. 
This  grant  was  not  made  to  them  directly  but  to  the 
joint-stock  company  of  merchant  adventurers  with 
whom  they  were  associated.  But  the  alliance  be- 
tween the  Pilgrims  and  these  London  merchants 
was  not  altogether  comfortable ;  there  was  too 
much  divergence  between  their  aims.  In  1627  the 
settlers,  wishing  to  be  entirely  independent,  bought 
up  all  the  stock  and  paid  for  it  by  instalments  from 
the  fruits  of  their  labour.  By  1633  they  had  paid 
every  penny,  and  become  the  undisputed  owners  of 
the  country  they  had  occupied. 

Such  was  the  humble  beginning  of  that  great 
Puritan  exodus  from  England  to  America  which 
had  so  much  to  do  with  founding  and  peopling  the 
United  States.  These  Pilgrims  of  the  Mayflower 
were  but  the  pioneers  of  a  mighty  host.  Histori- 
cally their  enterprise  is  interesting  not  so  much  for 
what  it  achieved  as  for  what  it  suggested.  Of  it- 
self the  Plymouth  colony  could  hardly  have  become 
a  wealthy  and  powerful  state.  Its  growth  was  ex- 
tremely slow.  After  ten  years  its  numbers  were 
but  three  hundred.  In  1643,  when  the  exodus  had 
come  to  an  end,  and  the  New  England  Confederacy 
was  formed,  the  population  of  Plymouth  was  but 
three  thousand.  In  an  established  community,  in- 
deed, such  a  rate  of  increase  would  be  rapid,  but  it 


THE  PURITAN  EXODUS.  87 

was  not  sufficient  to  raise  in  New  England  a  power 
which  could  overcome  Indians  and  Dutchmen  and 
Frenchmen,  and  assert  its  will  in  opposition  to  the 
crown.  It  is  when  we  view  the  founding  of  Plym- 
outh in  relation  to  what  came  afterward,  that  it 
assumes  the  importance  which  belongs  to  the  begin- 
ning of  a  new  era. 

We  have  thus  seen  how  it  was  that  the  political 
aspirations  of  James  I.  toward  absolute  sovereignty 
resulted  in  the  beginnings  of  the  Puritan  exodus 
to  America.  In  the  next  chapter  we  shall  see  how 
the  still  more  arbitrary  policy  of  his  ill-fated  son  all 
at  once  gave  new  dimensions  to  that  exodus  and 
resulted  in  the  speedy  planting  of  a  high-spirited 
and  powerful  New  England. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE  PLANTING   OF   NEW   ENGLAND. 

When  Captain  George  Weymouth  in  the  sum- 
mer of  1605  sailed  into  the  harbour  of  Plymouth 
in  Devonshire,  with  his  five  kidnapped  savages  and 
his  glowing  accounts  of  the  country  since  known 
as  New  England,  the  garrison  of  that  fortified  sea- 
port was  commanded  by  Sir  Ferdinando  Gorges. 
The  Christian  name  of  this  person  now  strikes  us 
as  rather  odd,  but  in  those  days  it  was  not  so  un- 
common in  England,  and  it  does  not  necessarily  in- 
dicate a  Spanish  or  Italian  ancestry  for  its  bearer. 
Gorges  was  a  man  of  considerable  ability,  but  not 
of  high  character.  On  the  downfall  of  his  old  pa- 
tron the  Earl  of  Essex  he  had  contrived  to  save  his 
own  fortunes  by  a  course  of  treachery  and  ingrati- 
tude. He  had  served  in  the  Dutch  war  against 
Spain,  and  since  1596  had  been  military  governor 
of  Plymouth.  The  sight  of  Weymouth's  Indians 
and  the  recital  of  his  explorations  awakened  the  in- 
terest of  Gorges  in  the  colonization  of  North  Amer- 
ica. He  became  one  of  the  most  active  members  of 
the  Plymouth,  or  North  Virginia,  Company  estab- 
lished in  the  following  year.  It  was  he  who  took 
the  leading  part  in  fitting  out  the  two  ships  with 
which  John  Smith  started  on  his  unsuccessful  ex- 
pedition in  1615.     In  the  following  years  he  con« 


THE  PLANTING  OF  NEW  ENGLAND.        89 

tinued  to  send  out  voyages  of  exploration,  became 
largely  interested  in  the  fisheries,  and  at  length  in 
1620  succeeded  in  obtaining  a  new  patent  for  the 
Plymouth  Company,  by  which  it  was  made  inde- 
pendent of  the  London  Company,  its  old  yoke-fel- 
low and  rival.  This  new  document  created  a  cor- 
poration of  forty  patentees  who,  sitting  in  council 
as  directors  of  their  enterprise,  were 
known  as  the  Council  for  New  England.  Gorges,  and 

m,  .  1  i>      1  .  •!  TT"  *^®  Counca 

The  president  of  this  council  was  King  for  New  Eng- 
James's  unpopular  favourite  the  Duke 
of  Buckingham,  and  its  most  prominent  members 
were  the  earls  of  Pembroke  and  Lenox,  Sir  Ferdi- 
nando  Gorges,  and  Shakespeare's  friend  the  Earl 
of  Southampton.  This  council  was  empowered  to 
legislate  for  its  American  territory,  to  exercise  mar- 
tial law  there  and  expel  all  intruders,  and  to  exer- 
cise a  monopoly  of  trade  within  the  limits  of  the 
patent.  Such  extensive  powers,  entrusted  to  a  com- 
pany of  which  Buckingham  was  the  head,  excited 
popular  indignation,  and  in  the  great  struggle 
against  monopolies  which  was  then  going  on,  the 
Plymouth  Company  did  not  fail  to  serve  as  a  target 
for  attacks.  It  started,  however,  with  too  little 
capital  to  enter  upon  schemes  involving  immediate 
outlay,  and  began  almost  from  the  first  to  seek  to 
increase  its  income  by  letting  or  selling  portions  of 
its  territory,  which  extended  from  the  latitude  of 
Philadelphia  to  that  of  Quebec,  thus  encroaching 
upon  regions  where  Holland  and  France  were  al- 
ready gaining  a  foothold.  It  was  from  this  company 
that  the  merchant  adventurers  associated  with  the 
Mayflower  Pilgrims  obtained  their  new  patent  in 


90      THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

the  summer  of  1621,  and  for  the  next  fifteen  years 
all  settlers  in  New  England  based  their  claims  to 
the  soil  upon  territorial  rights  conveyed  to  them 
by  the  Plymouth  Company.  The  grants,  however, 
were  often  ignorantly  and  sometimes  unscrupu- 
lously made,  and  their  limits  were  so  ill-defined 
that  much  quarrelling  ensued. 

During  the  years  immediately  following  the 
voyage  of  the  Mayflower,  several  attempts  at  set- 
tlement were  made  about  the  shores  of  Massachu- 
setts 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  seventy  men  on  his  own  account.  These  men 
made  a  settlement' at  Wessagusset,  some  twenty- 
five  miles  north  of  Plymouth.  They  were  a  disor- 
derly, thriftless  rabble,  picked  up  from  the  London 
streets,  and  soon  got  into  trouble  with  the  Indians  ; 
after  a  year  they  were  glad  to  get  back  to  England 
as  best  they  could,  and  in  this  the  Plymouth  set- 
tlers willingly  aided  them.  In  June  of  that  same 
year  1622  there  arrived  on  the  scene  a  pictur- 
esque but  ill  understood  personal^e,  Thomas  Mor- 
ton, "  of  Clifford's  Inn,  Gent.,"  as  he  tells  on  the 
title-page  of  his  quaint  and  delightful  book,  the 
"  New  English  Canaan."  Bradford  dispai'agingly 
says  that  he  "  had  been  a  kind  of  petie-fogger  of 

Furnifell's  Inn " ;  but  the  churchman 
»nd  Merry-       Samucl  Mavcrick  declares  that  he  was  a 

"  gentleman  of  good  qualitie."  He  was 
an  agent  of  Sir  Ferdinand©  Gorges,  and  came  with 
some  thirty  followers  to  make  the  beginnings  of  a 
royalist  and  Episcopal  settlement  in  the  Massachu- 


THE  PLANTING  OF  NEW  ENGLAND.        91 

setts  bay.  He  was  naturally  regarded  with  ill 
favour  by  the  Pilgrims  as  well  as  by  the  later  Pu- 
ritan settlers,  and  their  accounts  of  him  will  prob- 
ably 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  north- 
ern agriculture,  he  carried  most  of  his  men  off  to 
Virginia,  where  he  sold  them.  Morton  took  posses- 
sion 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  Morton'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  England  as  to  plant  a  Maypole  eighty  feet 
high,  about  which  they  frolicked  with  the  redskins, 
while  furthermore  they  taught  them  the  use  of  fire- 
arms 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  re- 
turned 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  Pi» 


S2     THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

cataqua,  while  Samuel  Maverick  had  fortified  him« 
self  on  Noddle's  Island,  and  William  Blackstone 
already  lived  upon  the  Shawmut  peninsula,  since 
called  Boston.  These  two  gentlemen  were  no 
friends  to  the  Puritans  ;  they  were  churchmen  and 
representatives  of  Sir  Ferdinando  Gorges. 

The  case  was  very  different  with  another  of  these 
earliest  settlements,  which  deserves  especial  men- 
lion   as  coming  directly  in  the  line  of   causation 
which  led   to  the    founding  of   Massachusetts  by 
Puritans.    For  some  years  past  the  Dor- 

Tho  Dorches-        i       ,  i  ,  n 

ter  adventur-  chcstcr  adveuturers  —  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  with  the  men  of  Plymouth. 
Several  grants  and  assignments  had  made  it  doubt- 
ful where  the  ownership  lay,  and  although  this 
place  was  not  near  their  own  town,  the  men  of 
Plymouth  claimed  it.  The  dispute  was  amicably 
arranged  by  Roger  Conant,  an  independent  settler 
who  had  withdrawn  from  Plymouth  because  he  did 
not  fully  sympathize  with  the  Separatist  views  of 
the  people  there.  The  next  step  was  for  the  Dor- 
chester adventurers  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 


THE  PLANTING  OF  NEW  ENGLAND.       93 

itself.  The  settlers  retained  their  tools  and  cattlei 
and  Conant  found  for  them  a  new  and  safer  situa- 
tion 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  Trinity  Church  in  Dorchester,  had  meditated 
carefully  about  these  things.  He  saw  that  many 
attempts  at  colonization  had  failed  because  thej 
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  in- 
dustrious people  under  a  strong  government.  The 
example  of  Plymouth,  as  contrasted  with  Wessa- 
gusset,  taught  a  similar  lesson.  We  desire,  said 
White,  "  to  raise  a  bulwark  against  the  kingdom 
of  Antichrist."  Learn  wisdom,  my  countrymen, 
from  the  ruin  which  has  befallen  the  Protestants 
at  Rochelle  and  in  the  Palatinate  ;  learn  "  to  avoid 
the  pla«rue  while  it  is  foreseen,  and  not 

'  John  White 

to   tarry   as   they  did   till   it   overtook  andhunobie 

''  ''  scheme. 

them."  The  Puritan  party  in  England 
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  Puritans, 
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 


94     THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

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  Mas- 
ter Endicott,  a  man  well  known  to  divers  persons 
of  good  note,  who  manifested  much  willingness  to 
accept  of  the  offer  as  soon  as  it  was  tendered." 
All  were  thereby  much  encouraged,  the  schemes 
of  White  took  definite  shape,  and  on  the  19th  of 
March,  1628,  a  tract  of  land  was  obtained  from  the 
Council  for  New  England,  consisting  of  all  the  ter- 
ritory 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  peo- 
ple still  supposed  the  Pacific  coast  to  be  not  far 
west  of  Henry  Hudson's  river.  The  territory  was 
granted  to  an  association  of  six  gentlemen,  only  one 
of  whom  —  John  Endicott  —  figures  conspicuously 
in  the  history  of  New  England.  The  grant  was 
Conflicting  made  in  the  usual  reckless  style,  and 
TOed.fof°^  conflicted  with  various  patents  which 
*'""^^"-  had  been  issued  before.    In  1622  Gorges 

and  John  Mason  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  ad- 
justed 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  Gor- 
ges appears  as  proprietor  of  the  territory  between 


THE  PLANTING  OF  NEW  ENGLAND.       95 

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,  Jehn  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  colonist? 
never  paid  the  slightest  heed  to  it.  In  these  con- 
flicting claims  were  sown  seeds  of  trouble  which 
bore  fruit  for  more  than  half  a  century. 

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  per- 
sons, to  reinforce  the   party  at  Naum- 

1  1  1     r^  i  • .      1        1  John  Endicott 

keag  and  supersede  Conant  as  its  leader,  and  the  found- 
On  Endicott's  arrival  in  September,  '"^°  *'"' 
1628,  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  Hebrew  name  of  Salem,  or  "  peace." 
Meanwhile  Mr.  White  and  the  partners  in  Eng- 
land were  pushing  things  vigorously.  Their  scheme 
took  a  wider  scope.  They  were  determined  to  es- 
tablisli  something  more  than  a  trading  company. 
From  Charles  I.  it  was  sometimes  easy  to  get  prom- 
ises because  he  felt  himself  under  no  obligation  to 
keep  th(Mii.  In  March,  1629,  a  royal  charter  was 
granted,  creating   a  corporation,  under  the   legal 


96    THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 


style  of  the  Governor  and  Company  of  Massachu- 
setts Bay  in  New  England.     The  affairs  of  this  cor- 
porate body  were  to  be  managed  by  a 

The  Company     ^  ,''  i  -i 

of  Massachu-  govcmor,  dcputy-govemor,  and  a  council 
of  eighteen  assistants,  to  be  elected  an- 
nually by  the  company.  They  were  empowered  to 
make  such  laws  as  they  liked  for  their  settlers,  pro- 
vided they  did  not  contravene  the  laws  of  England, 
—  a  proviso  susceptible  of  much  latitude  of  inter- 
pretation. The  place  where  the  company  was  to 
hold  its  meetings  was  not  mentioned  in  the  charter. 
The  law-officers  of  the  crown  at  first  tried  to  insert 
a  condition  that  the  government  must  reside  in 
England,  but  the  grantees  with  skilful  argument 
succeeded  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  pro- 
vision would  have  been  liable  to  hamper  them  seri- 
ously in  carrying  out  their  scheme.  They  preferred 
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  fit- 
ted 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  company  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 


THE  PLANTING  OF  NEW  ENGLAND.        97 

Salem,  Eudicott  now  became  governor  of  a  colony 
larger  than  any  yet  started  in  New  England,  —  lar- 
ger than  Plymouth  after  its  growth  of  nearly  nine 
years. 

The  time  was  at  length  ripe  for  that  great  Puri- 
tan exodus  of  which  the  voyage  of  the  Mayflower 
had  been  the  premonitory  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  Com- 
pany of  Massachusetts  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  med- 
dling everywhere.  Both  father  and  son  cherished 
some  good  intentions  ;  both  were  sincere  believers 
in  their  narrow  theory  of  kingcraft.  For  wrong- 
headed  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  unhappy  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  rely  upon 
the  quick-witted  but  unwise  and  unscrupulous 
Buckingham,^  who  was  silly  enough  to  make  feeble 

1  Gardiner,  Puritan  Revolution,  p.  50. 


98     THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NE  W  ENGLAND. 

attempts  at  unpopular  warfare  without  consulting 
Parliament.  During  each  of  Charles's  first  four 
years  there  was  an  angry  session  of  Parliament,  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  pro- 
test 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 
presented  the  most  extraordinary  spectacle,  perhaps 
Remarkable  ^^  ^^  ^^^  history.  The  famous  Petition 
House'of  Com-  ^^  Right  had  been  passed  by  both 
mons.  Houses,  and  the  royal  answer  had  just 

been  received.  Its  tone  was  that  of  gracious  as- 
sent, but  it  omitted  the  necessary  legal  formali- 
ties, and  the  Commons  well  knew  what  this  meant. 
They  were  to  be  tricked  with  sweet  words,  and 
the  petition  was  not  to  acquire  the  force  of  a 
statute.  How  was  it  possible  to  deal  with  such 
a  slippery  creature  ?  There  was  but  one  way  of 
saving  the  dignity  of  the  throne  without  sacrificing 
the  liberty  of  the  people,  and  that  was  to  hold  the 
king's  ministers  responsible  to  Parliament,  in  an- 
ticipation  of  modern  methods.  It  was  accordingly 
proposed  to  impeach   the   Duke   of   Buckingham 


THE  PLANTING  OF  NEW  ENGLAND.        99 

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  mo- 
ment the  House  was  overcome  with  despair.  De- 
prived 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  had  hardly  ever  before  been 
seen  on  the  earth ;  now  half  the  nation  was  to  be 
pitted  against  the  other  half,  families  were  to  be  di- 
vided 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  min- 
gle 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  his- 
torically significant  *  in  the  emotion  of  these  stern, 

^  It  is  now  204  years  since  a  battle  has  been  fought  in  ElnglancL 
The  last  was  Sedgmoor  in  1685.  For  four  centuries,  since  Bos- 
worth, in  1486,  the  English  people  have  lived  in  peace  in  theii 


100    THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND, 

fearless  men.  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  Parliament,  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,"  re- 
sounded 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  Eng- 
land.^ 

It  was  in  one  and  the  same  week  that  Charles  I. 
thus  began  his  experiment  of  governing  without  a 
Parliament,  and  that  he  granted  a  charter  to  the 
Company  of  Massachusetts  Bay.  He  was  very  far,  as 
we  shall  see,  from  realizing  the  import  of 
tureorthe °*^  what  he  was  doing.  To  the  Puritan  lead- 
ers it  was  evident  that  a  great  struggle 
was  at  hand.    Affairs  at  home  might  well  seem  des- 

own  homes,  except  for  tlie  brief  episode  of  the  Great  Rebellion, 
and  Monmouth' 8  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  warfare  at  a  distance,  and  that  does  not  nourish  the 
brutal  passions  in  the  way  that  warfare  at  home  does.  An  in- 
structive result  is  to  be  seen  in  the  mildness  of  temper  which 
characterized  the  conduct  of  our  stupendous  Civil  War.  Nothing 
like  it  was  ever  seen  before. 

^  Pictou's  Cro/nwell,  pp.  61,  67 ;  Gardiner,  Puritan  Revolution, 
p.  72. 


THE  PLANTING  OF  NEW  ENGLAND.     101 

perate,  and  the  news  from  abroad  was  not  encourag- 
ing. It  was  only  four  months  since  the  surrender 
of  Rochelle  had  ended  the  existence  of  the  Hugue- 
nots 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 
just  reachfed  the  darkest  moment  for  the  Protest- 
ants. Fifteen  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  bt^fore,  as  never  aince^  did  the  venture  of  a 
wholesale  migration  to. Jibe  New  J/V^orld  so  strongly 
regprnmend  itself  as  Uie_only  feasible  escaijeTroni 
9,  situation  that  was  fast  becoming  intolerable. 
Such  were^Ee  anxious  thoughts  ot  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  Eng- 
land 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  meet- 
ing at  Cambridge,  and  resolved  to  lead  a  migration 


102    THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

to  New  England,  provided  the  charter  of  the  Mas- 
sachusetts Bay  Company  and  the  government  es- 
tablished under  it  could  be  transferred 

Transfer  of  the  ,  ^  r^  ... 

charter ;  John  to  that  country.     Uu  cxammation  it  ap- 

Winthrop  and  .       ,  i  i        i  ^  i     • 

Thomas  Dud-  peared  that  no  legal  obstacle  stood  in 
the  way.  Accordingly  such  of  the  old 
officers  as  did  not  wish  to  take  part  in  the  emi- 
gration resigned  their  places,  which  were  forthwith 
filled  by  these  new  leaders.  For  governor  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  born  in  the 
memorable  year  of  the  Armada.  He  was  a  man 
of  remarkable  strength  and  beauty  of  character, 
grave  and  modest,  intelligent  and  scholarlike,  in- 
tensely religious  and  endowed  with  a  moral  sensi- 
tiveness that  was  almost  morbid,  yet  liberal  withal 
in  his  opinions  and  charitable  in  disposition.  When 
his  life  shall  have  been  adequately  written,  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  commanding  respect  for  which 
Washington  was  so  remarkable  ;  and  when  he  was 
holected  as  the  Moses  of  the  great  Puritan  exodus, 
there  was  a  wide-spread  feeling  that  extraordinary 
results  were  likely  to  come  of  such  an  enterprise. 

In  marked  contrast  to  Winthrop  stands  the  fig- 
ure of  the  man  associated  with  him  as  deputy-gov- 
ernor. Thomas  Dudley  came  of  an  ancient  family, 
the  history  of  which,  alike  in  the  old  and  in  the 


THE  PLANTING  OF  NEW  ENGLAND.     103 

new  England,  has  not  been  altogether  credita- 
ble. He  represented  the  elder  branch  of  that  Nor- 
man family,  to  the  younger  branch  of  which  be- 
longed the  unfortunate  husband  of  Lady  Jane  Grey 
and  the  unscrupulous  husband  of  Amy  Robsart. 
There  was,  however,  very  little  likeness  to  Eliza- 
beth's gay  lover  in  grim  Thomas  Dudley.  His 
Puritanism  was  bleak  and  stern,  and  for  Christian 
chai'ity  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  chnrohes  watch 
O'er  such  as  do  a  Toleration  hatch, 
Lest  that  ill  egg  bring  forth  a  cockatrice 
To  poison  all  with  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  be- 
tween Dudley  and  Winthrop.  In  the  former  we 
have  the  typical  narrow-minded,  strait-laced  Cal- 
vinist  for  whom  it  is  so  much  easier  to  entertain 
respect  than  affection.  But  Winthrop's  character, 
as  we  look  at  the  well-known  portrait  ascribed  to 
Van  Dyck,  is  revealed  in  a  face  expressive  of  vvliat 
was  finest  in  the  age  of  Elizabeth,  the  face  of  a 
spiritual  brother  of  Raleigh  and  Sidney. 

The  accession  of  two  men  so  important  as  Win- 
throp 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 


104  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

year  seventeen  ships  had  come  to  New  England, 

bringing  more  than  1000  passengers.     This  huge 

wave  of  immigration  quite  overwhelmed 

Masaachu-  and  tore  away  the  few  links  of  posses- 
setts.  .  . 

sion  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  covering 
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  posses- 
sion 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  settle- 
ment of  Charlestown.  Shortly  before  Winthrop's 
departure  from  England,  Gorges  had  sent  that  sin- 
gular 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  cousiu."  But 
these  few  claimants  were  now  at  once  lost  in  the 
human  tide  which  poured  over  Charlestown,  Bos- 
ton, Newtown,  Watertown,  Roxbury,  and  Dorches- 
ter. The  settlement  at  Merrymount  was  again 
dispersed,  and  Morton  sent  back  to  London  ;  Gar- 
diner fled  to  the  coast  of  Maine  and  thence  sailed 
for  England  in  1632.  The  Puritans  had  indeed 
occupied  the  country  in  force. 


THE  PLANTING  OF  NEW  ENGLAND.      105 

Here  on  the  very  threshold  we  are  confronted  by 
,  facts  which  show  that  not  a  mere  colonial  planta- 
I  tion,  but  a  definite  and  organized  state  was  in  pro- 
jcess  of  formation.  The  emigi'ation  was  not  like 
[that  of  Jamestown  or  of  Plymouth.  It  sufficed  at 
once  to  make  the  beginnings  of  half  a  dozen  towns, 
and  the  question  as  to  self-government  immediately 
sprang  up.  Early  in  1631  a  tax  of  <£60  was  assessed 
upon  the  settlements,  in  order  to  pay  for  building 
frontier  fortifications  at  Newtown.  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  Eng- 
land of  John  Hampden  with  the  New  England  of 
Samuel  Adams.  The  inhabitants  of  Watertown 
at  first  declined  to  pay  this  tax,  which  was  assessed 
by  the  Board  of  Assistants,  on  the  ground  that 
English  freemen  caunot  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  begin- 
■inings  of  American  constitutional  history,  as  to'^w^f-gov. 
At  first  it  was  thought  that  public  busi-  raised  at  wa- 
ness  could  be  transacted  by  a  primary 
assembly  of  all  the  freemen  in  the  colony  meeting 
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,  1631,  it  was  further  decided  that  the  assist- 
ants need  not  be  chosen  afresh  every  year,  but 
might  keep  their  seats  during  good  behaviour  o< 


106    THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

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  curious  to  see  Englishmen  pass- 
ing 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  pro- 
ceedings, which  began  to  have  a  decidedly  oligar- 
chical look.  To  settle  the  immediate  question  of 
the  tax,  two  deputies  were  sent  from  each  settle- 
ment to  advise  with  the  Board  of  Assistants  ;  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  making  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  general  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  pow- 
ers, and  the  way  in  which  this  important  constitu- 
tional change  came  about  is  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  busi^ 
story  of  the  i^^ss  upou  a  vcry  small  occasion."  To 
stray  pig.  ^  certain  Captain  Keayne,  of  Boston, 
a  rich  man  deemed  to  be  hard  and  overbearing 
toward  the  poor,  there  was  brought  a  stray  pig, 
whereof  he  gave  due  public  notice  through  the  town 


THE  PLANTING  OF  NEW  ENGLAND.     lOt 

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  a  jury,  which  exonerated  the  defendant 
with  X3  costs.  The  captain  then  sued  Mrs.  Sher- 
man for  defamation  of  character  and  got  a  verdict 
for  X40  damages,  a  round  sum  indeed  to  assess 
upon  the  poor  woman.  But  long  before  this  it  had 
appeared  that  she  had  many  partisans  and  support- 
ers ;  it  had  become  a  political  question,  in  which 
the  popular  protest  against  aristocracy  was  impli- 
cated. Not  yet  browbeaten,  the  warlike  Mrs. 
Sherman  appealed  to  the  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  major- 
ity among  the  more  aristocratic  assistants,  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  lower  house,  but 


V    108 


108  TH^  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

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  Endicott's  party  at  Salem.  The  clergy. 
men,  Samuel  Skelton  and  Francis  Higginson,  con- 
secrated each  other,  and  a  church  covenant  and 
confession  of  faith  were  drawn  up  by  Higginson. 
Thirty  persons  joining  in  this  covenant  constituted 
the  first  church  in  the  colony  |  and  several  brethren 
appointed  by  this  church  proceeded  formally  to  or- 
dain the  two  ministers  by  the  laying  on  of  hands. 
In  such  simple  wise,  was  the  first  Congregational 
churcli  in  Massachusetts  founded.  The  simple 
fact  of  removal  from  England  converted  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  forthwith  to  set  up  a  separate 
church  in  conformity  with  episcopal  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 
The  triumph  England  ;  and  thus  the  colonial  church 
of  paratism.  ^^^  ^^^y  seccdcd  from  the  national  es- 
tablishment, but  the  principle  was  virtually  laid 
down  that  the  Episcopal  form  of  worship  would 
not  be  tolerated  in  the  colony.     For  the  present 


THE  PLANTING  OF  NEW  ENGLAND.     109 

such  a  step  was  to  be  regarded  as  a  measure  of 
self-defence  on  the  part  of  the  colonists.  Episco- 
pacy to  them  meant  actual  and  practical  tyranny 
—  the  very  thing  they  had  crossed  the  ocean  ex- 
pressly 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  1631  a  still  more  searching  measure  of  self -pro- 
tection 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  Puritans  sought  to  real- 
ize in  New  England,  we  shall  inquire  hereafter. 
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  Gar- 
diner and  other  agents  of  Sir  Ferdinando  Gorges. 
By  the  year  1634  the  scheme  of  the  Massachu- 
setts Company  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 
jbriskly  ;  farms  were  beginning  to  yield  a  return  for 
Ithe  labour  of  the  husbandman ;  lumber,  furs,  and 


110    THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND- 

salted  fish  were  beginning  to  be  sent  to  England 
in  exchange  for  manufactured  articles ;  4000 
goats  and  1500  head  of  cattle  grazed  in  the  pas- 
tures, and  swine  innumerable  rooted  in  the  clear- 
ings 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  performed  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  younger 
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  Emman- 
uel College  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  uni- 
versity  began  to  seem  indispensable  to  the  colony. 
In  1636  the  General  Court  appropriated  X400 
toward  the  establishment  of  a  college  at  Newtown. 
In  1638  John  Harvard,  dying  childless, 
iHMvard'coi.     bequeathed  his  library  and  the  half  of 

'  his  estate  to  the  new  college,  which  the 

/Ourt  forthwith  ordered  to  be  called  by  his  name; 
i^hile  in  honour  of  the  mother  university  the  name 
^f  the  town  was  changed  to  Cambridge. 

It  has  been  said  that  the  assembly  which  decreed 
the  establishment  of  Harvard   College  was  "the 


THE  PLANTING  OF  NEW  ENGLAND.     Ill 

first  body  in  which  the  people,  by  their  representa- 
tives, ever  gave  their  own  money  to  found  a  place 
of  education."  *  The  act  was  a  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  an  Indian  war, 
with  the  enmity  of   the  home  srovern- 

•'  .  »  Threefold 

ment,  and  with  sT-ave  dissensions  among:  danger  in  tb« 

*  .    **    year  1636. 

themselves,  the  year  1636  was  a  trying 
one  indeed  for  the  little  community  of  Puritans, 
and  their  founding  a  college  by  public  taxation 
just  at  this  time  is  a  striking  illustration  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  ^  prom  the 
that  Charles  should  have  been  willing  jbe^rJ'aS 
at  the  outset  to  grant  a  charter  to  the  onyb"t^*''°* 
able  and  influential  Puritans  who  orga-  I^ILtn/at'" 
nized  the  Company  of  Massachusetts  '"""^' 
Bay.  Probably,  however,  the  king  thought  at  first 
that  it  would  relieve  him  at  home  if  a  few  dozen  of 
the  Puritan  leaders  could  be  allowed  to  concentrate 
their  minds  upon  a  project  of  colonization  in  Amer- 
ica. It  might  divert  attention  for  a  moment  from 
his  own  despotic  schemes.  Very  likely  the  scheme 
would  })rove  a  failure  and  the  Massachusetts  colony 
incur  a  fate  like  that  of  Koanoke  Island  ;  and  at 
all  events  the  wealth  of  the  Puritans  might  better 
be  sunk  in  a  remote  and  perilous  enterprise  than 

*  Qnincy,  Iliatory  of  Harvard  University,  ii.  654. 


112    THE  LEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

employed  at  home  in  organizing  resistance  to  the 
crown.  Such,  very  likely,  may  have  been  the 
king's  motive  in  granting  the  Massachusetts  char- 
ter 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  political.  Its  example  was  getting  to  be  a 
dangerous  one.  It  was  evidently  worth  while  to 
put  a  strong  curb  upon  Massachusetts.  Any  prom- 
ise made  to  his  subjects  Charles  regarded  as  & 
promise  made  under  duress  which  he  was  quite  jus- 
tified in  breaking  whenever  it  suited  his  purpose 
to  do  so.  Enemies  of  Massachusetts  were  busy  in 
England.  Schismatics  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  bargained 
with  the  king.  In  February,  1635,  the  moribund 
Council  for  New  England  surrendered  its  charter 
and  all  its  corporate  rights  in  America,  on  condi- 
tion 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  members  of 
the  Council.  In  pursuance  of  this  scheme  Gorges 
and  Mason,  together  with  half  a  dozen  noblemen, 
were  allowed  to  parcel  out  New  England  among 
themselves  as  they  should  see  fit.  In  this  way  the 
influence  of  the  Marquis  of  Hamilton,  with  the  Earla 


THE  PLANTING  OF  NEW  ENGLAND.     113 

of  Arundel,  Surrey,  Carlisle,  and  Stirling,  might 
be  actively  enlisted  against  the  Massachusetts  Com- 
pany, A  writ  of  qiio  warranto  was  brought  against 
it ;  and  it  was  proposed  to  send  Sir  Ferdinando  to 
govern  New  England  with  viceregal  powers  like 
those  afterward  exercised  by  Andros. 

For  a  moment  the  danger  seemed  alarming ;  but, 
as  Winthrop  says,  "  the  Lord  frustrated  their  de* 
sign."  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  Mason, 
suddenly  died.  The  king  issued  his  famous  writ 
of  shijvmoney  and  set  all  England  by  the  ears ; 
and,  to  crown  all,  the  attempt  to  read  the  Episco- 
pal 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  Boston  the  peo- 
ple of  the  infant  colony  showed  no  readiness  to 
yield  to  intimidation.  In  their  measures  there  was 
a  decided  smack  of  what  was  to  be  realized  a  hun- 
dred and  forty  years  later.  Orders  were  imme- 
diately issued  for  fortifying  Castle  Island  in  the 
harbour  and  the  heights  at  Charlestown  and  Dor- 
chester. Militia  companies  were  put  in  training, 
*  C.  F.  Adams,  Sir  Christopher  Gardiner,  Knight,  p.  31. 


114    THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

!ind  a  beacon  was  set  up  on  the  highest  hill  in  Bos- 
ton, 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  vei-y  doors,  of 
which  they  were  fain  to  rid  themselves  as  soon  as 
2  From  reii-  possiblc.  Amoug  all  the  Puritans  who 
^on8*Ro^er  ^ame  to  Ncw  England  there  is  no  more 
wuuams.  interesting  figure  than  the  learned,  quick- 
witted pugnacious  Welshman,  Roger  Williams. 
He  was  over-fond  of  logical  subtleties  and  delighted 
in  controversy.  There  was  scarcely  any  subject 
about  which  he  did  not  wrangle,  from  the  sinful- 
ness 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  })reacher 
had  announced  the  true  principles  of  religious  lib- 
erty with  a  clearness  of  insight  quite  remarkable 
in  that  age.  Roger  Williams  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  1631  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  ri^ligious 
faith,  the  repeal  of  all  laws  compelling-  attendance 


rHE  PLANTING  OF  NEW  ENGLAND.     115 

on  public  worship,  the  abolition  of  tithes  and  of 
all  forced  contributions  to  the  support  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 
HoUand,  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  impru- 
dence. 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  a  valid  title  to 
/it  by  purchase  from  them,  and  that  the  accept- 
I  ance  of  a  patent  from  a  mere  intruder,  like  the 
I  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  Mas- 
sachusetts, and  at  the  same  time  an  incident  oc- 
curred in  Salem  which  made  it  all  the  more  un- 
fortunate. The  royal  colours  under  which  the 
little  companies  of  militia  marched  were  emblaz- 
oned with  the  red  cross  of  St.  George.  The  un- 
compromising Endicott   loathed   this    emblem    aa 


116    THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

tainted  with  Popery,  and  one  day  he  publicly  de- 
faced the  flag  of  the  Salem  company  by  cutting 
out  the  cross.  The  enemies  of  Massachusetts  mis- 
interpreted this  act  as  a  defiance  aimed  at  the 
royal  authority,  and  they  attributed  it  to  the  teach- 
ings of  Williams.  In  view  of  the  king's  unfriend- 
liness 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  linguist,  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  Christianity.  In  the  spring  he  was  privately 
notified  by  Winthrop  that  if  he  were  to  steer  his 
course  to  Narragansett  bay  he  would  be  secure 
from  molestation ;  and  such  was  the  beginning  of 
/the  settlement  of  Providence. 

Shortly  before  the  departure  of  Williams,  there 
came  to  Boston  one  of  the  greatest  Puritan  states- 
men of  that  heroic  age,  the  younger  Henry  Vane. 
It  is  pleasant  to  remember  that  the  man 
and  Anne  who  did  SO  much  to  ovcrtlirow  the  tyr- 
anny of  Straiford,  who  brought  the  mili- 
tary strength  of  Scotland  to  the  aid  of  the  hard- 
pressed  Parliament,  who  administered  the  navy 
with  which  Blake  won  his   astonishing   victories, 


THE  PLANTING  OF  NEW  ENGLAND.     117 

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  as- 
sembly that  founded  our  first  university.  Thorough 
republican  and  enthusiastic  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  uncom- 
fortable home.  In  1636  he  was  only  twenty-four 
years  of  age,  "  young  in  years,"  and  perhaps  not 
yet  "  in  sage  counsel  old."  He  was  chosen  gov- 
ernor for  that  year,  and  his  administration  was 
stormy.  Among  those  persons  who  had  followed 
Mr.  Cotton  from  Lincolnshire  was  Mrs.  Anne 
Hutchinson,  a  very  bright  and  capable  lady,  if  per* 
haps  somewhat  impulsive  and  indiscreet.  She  had 
brought  over  with  her,  says  Winthrop,  "  two  dan- 
gerous 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  jus- 
tification." Into  the  merits  of  such  abstruse  doc- 
trines 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  character- 
istic social  features  were  developed.  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  regular  ministers,  to  follow  her. 


118    THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

She  was  very  effectively  supported  by  her  brother- 
in-law,  Mr.  Wheelwright,  an  eloquent  preacher, 
and  for  a  while  she  seemed  to  be  carrying  every- 
thing before  her.  She  won  her  old  minister  Mr. 
Cotton,  she  won  the  stout  soldier  Captain  Under- 
bill, she  won  Governor  Vane  himself ;  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  be- 
tween Protestants  and  Papists,"  and  he  ventured 
to  doubt  whether  any  man  could  really  tell  what 
the  difference  was.  The  theological  strife  went  on 
until  it  threatened  to  breed  civil  disaffection  among 
the  followers  of  Mrs.  Hutchinson.  A  peculiar  bit- 
terness was  given  to  the  affair,  from  the  fact  that 
she  professed  to  be  endowed  with  the  spiiit  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  steadfastly  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  simplo  society  of  Massachu- 
setts in  1G36,  physically  weak  and  as  yet  struggling 
for  very  existence,  the  practical  effect  of  such  teach, 
ings  may  well  have  been  deemed  politically  danger- 
ous. When  things  came  to  such  a  pass  tliat  the 
forces  of  the  colony  were  mustered  for  an  Indiai? 


THE  PLANTING  OF  NEW  ENGLAND.     119 

campai^  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  Win* 
throp  was  elected  governor,  and  in  August  Vane  re- 
turned to  England.  His  father  had  at  that  moment 
more  influence  with  the  king  than  any  other  person 
except  Strafford,  and  the  young  man  had  indis- 
creetly 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  Winthrop  than  in  the  days  of  Hancock  and 
Adams.  Soon  after  Vane's  departure,  Mrs.  Hutch- 
inson and  her  friends  were  ordered  to  leave  the 
colony.  It  was  doubtless  an  odious  act  of  persecu- 
tion, 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  England  colonization,  and  the  founding  of 
distinct  communities,  was  hastened  by  these  differ- 
ences of  opinion  on  theological  questions  or  on  ques- 
tions concerning  the  relations  between  church  and 
state.  Of  Mrs.  Hutchinson's  friends  and  adher- 
lents,  some  went  northward,  and  founded  the  towns 
of  Exeter  and  IIami)ton.  Some  time  before  Ports- 
mouth and  Dover  had  been  settled  by  followers  of 
Mason  and  Gorges.  In  1G41  these  towns  were 
added  to  the  domain  of  Massachusetts,  and  so  the 


120     THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

matter  stood  until  1679,  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.  Hutchinson  herself,  how- 
ever, with  the  rest  of  her  adherents,  bought  the 
island  of  Aquedneck  from  the  Indians,  and  settle- 
ments were  made  at  Portsmouth  and  Newport. 
After  a  quarter  of  a  century  of  turbulence,  these 
settlements  coalesced  with  Williams's  colony  at 
Providence,  and  thus  was  formed  the  state  of  Rhode 
Island.  After  her  husband's  death  in  1642,  Mrs. 
Hutchinson  left  Aquedneck  and  settled  upon  some 
land  to  the  west  of  Stamford  and  supposed  to  be 
within  the  territory  of  the  New  Netherlands.  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  illustrious  Thomas  Hutchinson, 
the  first  great  American  historian,  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  Eng- 
land had  been  in  no  way  molested  by  the  natives. 
Massasoit'«  treaty  with  the  Pilgrims  was  scrupu- 
lously observed  on  both  sides,  and  kept  the  Wam- 
panoags  quiet  for  fifty-four  years.  The  somewhat 
smaller  tribe  which  took  its  name  from  the  3Iassa- 
wachvsett,  or  Great  Hill,  of  Milton,  kept  on 
friendly  terms  with  the  settlers  about  Boston,  be- 
cause these  red  men  coveted  the  powerful  aid  of  the 


THE  PLANTING  OF  NEW  ENGLAND.     121 

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  these  coast  legions  and  press  into 
the  interior  that  trouble  arose.  The  liidian"  the 
western  shores  of  Narragansett  bay  were  p^^^ 
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  about  the  Thames  river,  dwelt  the  still 
more  formidable  Pequots,  a  tribe  which  for  bravery 
and  ferocity  asserted  a  preeminence  in  New  Eng- 
land not  unlike  that  which  the  Iroquois  league  of 
jthe  Mohawk  valley  was  fast  winning  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  trib- 
utary 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  sav- 
age New  England,  and  whose  forbearance  the  Nip- 
mucks  and  Mohegans  were  fain  to  ensure  by  a 
yearly  payment  of  blackmail.  Each  summer  there 
came  two  Mohawk  elders,  secure  in  the  dread  that 
Iroquois  prowess  had  everywhere  inspired ;  and  up 


122     THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGIAND. 

and  down  the  Connecticut  valley  they  seized  th? 
tribute  of  weapons  and  wampum,  and  proclaimed 
the  last  harsh  edict  issued  from  the  savage  council 
at  Onondaga.  The  scowls  that  greeted  their  un- 
welcome visits  were  doubtless  nowhere  fiercer  than 
among  the  Mohegans,  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  civili- 
zation is  always  latent  though  comparatively  seldom 
exerted.  The  sudden  intrusion  of  English  warfare 
into  the  Indian  world  of  the  seventeenth  century 
may  well  have  seemed  to  the  red  men  a  supernat- 
ural visitation,  like  the  hurricane  or  the  earthquake. 
The  uncompromising  vigour  with  which  the  found- 
ers of  Massachusetts  carried  on  their  work  was 
viewed  in  some  quarters  with  a  dissatisfaction 
which  soon  thrust  the  English  migration  into  the 
very  heart  of  the  Indian  country. 

The  first  movement,  however,  was  directed 
against  the  encroachments  of  the  New  Netherlands. 
In  October,  1G34,  some  men  of  Plymouth,  led  by 
William  Holmes,  sailed  up  the  Connecticut  river, 
and,  after  bandying  threats  with  a  party 
ments  into  of  Dutch  who  had  built  a  rude  fort  on 
the  site  of  Hartford,  passed  on  and  for- 
tified themselves  on  the  site  of  Windsor.  Next 
year  Governor  Van  Twiller  sent  a  company  of  sev- 
enty men  to  drive  away  these  intruders,  but  after 
reconnoitring  the  situation  the  Dutchmen  thought 
it  best  not  to  make  an  attack.     Their  little  strong- 


THE  PLANTING  OF  NEW  ENGLAND.     123 

hold  at  Hartford  remained  unmolested  by  the  Eng- 
lish, and,  in  order  to  secure  the  communication  be- 
tween this  advanced  outpost  and  New  Amsterdam, 
Van  Twiller  decided  to  build  another  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  from  the  Council 
for  New  England  a  grant  of  territory  on  the  shores 
of  the  Sound.  These  noblemen  chose  as  their 
agent  the  younger  John  Winthrop,  son  of  the 
Massachusetts  governor,  and  this  new-comer  ar- 
rived 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  valley  might  perhaps  have  been  for  a 
few  years  confined  to  these  two  military  outposts  at 
Windsor  and  Saybrook.  But  there  were  people  in 
Massachusetts  who  did  not  look  with  favour  upon 
the  aristocratic  and  theocratic  features  ^.  „  ,,    , 

.        .  , .  rn  .    .  Disaffection  in 

in  its  polity.  The  provision  that  none  Mawachu- 
but  church-members  should  vote  or  hold 
office  was  by  no  means  unanimously  approved. 
We  see  it  in  the  course  of  another  generation  put- 
ting 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  IL 
it  becomes  a  dangerous  source  of  weakness  to  Mas- 
sachusetts.    At  the  outset  the  opposition  seems  to 


124    THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

have  been  strongest  in  Dorchester,  Newtown,  and 
Watertown.  When  the  Board  of  Assistants  under- 
took to  secure  for  themselves  permanency  of  tenure, 
together  with  the  power  of  choosing  the  governor 
and  making  the  laws,  these  three  towns  sent  depu- 
ties to  Boston  to  inspect  the  charter  and  see  if  it 
authorized  any  such  stretch  of  power.  They  were 
foremost  in  insisting  that  representatives  chosen 
by  the  towns  must  have  a  share  in  the  general  gov- 
ernment. Men  who  held  such  opinions  were  nat- 
urally unwilling  to  increase  the  political  weight  of 
the  clergy,  who,  during  these  early  disputes  and 
indeed  until  the  downfall  of  the  charter,  were  in- 
clined 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,  pastor  of  the  church  at  Newtown.  When 
Winthrop,  in  a  letter  to  Hooker,  defended  the  re- 
striction 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  busi- 
nesses 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  threshold  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   and  Jefferson.     There   were 


THE  PLANTING  OF  NEW  ENGLAND.     125 

many  in  Newtown  who  took  Hooker's  view  of  the 
matter  ;  and  there,  as  also  in  Watertown  and  Dor- 
chester, 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  sum- 
mer of  1G33  the  adventurous  John  Oldham  was 
making  his  way  through  the  forest  and  over  the 
mountains  into  the  Connecticut  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  through  the 
wilderness  as  far  as  the  Plymouth  men's  fort  at 
Windsor,  while  a  party  from  Watertown  Connecticut 
went  farther  and  came  to  a  halt  upon  p»°"®*"- 
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  re- 
turn 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  succeeded  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  Pull 


126     THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

man  car  now  traverses,  regardless  of  seasons,  in 
three  hours.  A  few  grim  heroes,  the  nameless 
founders  of  a  noble  commonwealth,  stayed  on  the 
spot  and  defied  starvation.  In  the  next  June, 
1636,  the  Newtown  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  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  Mas- 
sachusetts more  than  3000  souls,  and  so  great  an 
accession  made  further  movement  easy.  Hooker's 
pilgrims  were  soon  followed  by  the  Dorchester  and 
Watertown  congregations,  and  by  the  next  INIay 
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  towns 
chose  rej)resentatives  and  held  a  General  Court  at 
Hartford,  and  thus  the  separate  existence  of  Con- 
necticut  was  begun.     As   for   Springfield,  which 


THE  PLANTING  OF  NEW  ENGLAND.     127 

was  settled  about  the  same  time  by  a  party  from 
Roxbury,  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  sermon  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  hand  of  the 
great  preacher  is  fclearly  discernible.     It 

r  ,  .  11-1  The  first  writ- 

is  worthv  of  note   that   this   document  tenconstitu- 

contains  none  of  the  conventional  refer- 
ences to  a  "  dread  sovereign  "  or  a  "  gracious  king," 
nor  the  slightest  allusion  to  the  British  or  any 
other  government  outside  of  Connecticut  itself, 
nor  does  it  prescribe  any  condition  of  church-mem- 
bership 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  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  related  to  that 

*  The  compact  drawn  up  in  the  Mayflower's  cahin  was  not,  in  the 
strict  sense  a  constitution,  which  is  a  document  defining  and  limit- 
ing the  functions  of  government.  Magna  Charta  partook  of  the 
oature  of  a  written  constitution,  as  far  as  it  went,  but  it  did  not 
sreate  a  govemmeat. 


128    THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

of  Connecticut  than  to  that  of  any  of  the  other  thir- 
teen colonies.  The  most  noteworthy  feature  of  the 
Connecticut  republic  was  that  it  was  a  federation 
of  independent  towns,  and  that  all  attributes  of  sov- 
ereignty not  expressly  granted  to  the  General  Court 
remained,  as  of  original  right,  in  the  towns.  More- 
over, 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 
assembly.^  This  little  federal  republic  was  allowed 
to  develop  peacefully  and  normally  ;  its  constitu- 
tion 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  strong- 
est political  structure  on  the  continent,  as  was  illus- 
trated in  the  remarkable  military  energy  and  the 
unshaken  financial  credit  of  Connecticut  during  the 
Revolutionary  War ;  and  in  the  chief  crisis  of  the 
Federal  Convention  of  1787  Connecticut,  with  her 
compromise  which  secured  equal  state  representa- 
tion 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  government,  it  had  its  Indian  question  to  dis- 
pose 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,  chief  sachem  of  the  Pequots. 
Negotiations  concerning  this  outrage  had  gone  on 

^  See  Johnston's  Connecticut,  p.  321,  a  very  brilliant  book. 


THE  PLANTING  OF  NEW  ENGLAND.     129 

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  Block  ongm  of  the 
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  make  an  end  of  the  In- 
dian question  and  show  the  savages  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  vessels  under 
command  of  Endicott,  who  ravaged  Block  Island, 
burning  wigwams,  sinking  canoes,  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 
com,  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  superstitious  aw« 


130    THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

with  which  the  white  men  were  at  first  regarded 
had  been  somewhat  lessened  by  familiar  contact 
with  them,  as  in  ^sop's  fable  of  the  fox  and  the 
lion.  The  resources  of  Indian  diplomacy  were  ex- 
hausted 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  formidable  as  that  which  was 
effected  forty  years  afterward  in  King  Philip's 
war  ;  for  the  savages  had  not  as  yet  become  accus- 
tomed to  fire-arms,  and  the  English  settlements  did 
not  present  so  many  points  exposed  to  attack  ;  but 
there  is  no  doubt  that  it  might  have  wrought  fear- 
ful havoc.  We  can,  at  any  rate,  find  no  difiiculty 
in  comprehending  the  manifold  perplexity  of  the 
Massachusetts  men  at  this  time,  threatened  as  they 
were  at  once  by  an  Indian  crusade,  by  the  machi- 
nations of  a  faithless  king,  and  by  a  bitter  theolog- 
ical 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  hereditary  enmity  of  the  Narragansetts  to- 
ward their  Pequot  rivals  was  too  strong  to  be 
lightly  overcome.  Roger  Williams,  taking  ad- 
SasBaons  is  Vantage  of  this  feeling,  so  worked  upon 
RogeTWii-  ^^^®  minds  of  the  Narragansett  chiefs 
liams.  thoX,  in  the  autumn  of  1G3G  they  sent 

an  embassy  to  Boston  and  made  a  treaty  of  alli- 
ance witli  the  English.  The  Pequots  were  thus 
left  to  fight  out  their  own  quarrel ;  and  had  they 
still  been  separated  from  the  English  by  the  dis- 
tance between  Boston  and  the  Thames  river,  the 


THE  PLANTING  OF  NEW  ENGLAND.     131 

feud  might  very  likely  have  smouldered  until  the 
drift  of  events  liad  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  situa- 
tion 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.  Emboldened  by  the  success  of  this  feat, 
the  Pequots  attacked  Wethersfield,  massacred  ten 
people,    and    carried    away    two    girls. 

Tir  1  1-1  1  ThePequota 

Wrouo^ht  up  to  desperation  by  these  ukethewar- 
atrocities,  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  from  Sir 
Thomas  Fairfax,  under  whom  he  had  served  in 
the  Netherlands.  It  took  time  to  get  men  from 
Boston,  and  all  that  Massachusetts  contributed  to 
the  enterprise  at  its  beginning  was  that  eccentric 
daredevil  John  Underbill,  with  a  force  of  twenty 
men.  Seventy  friendly  Mohegans,  under  their 
chief  Uncas,  eager  to  see  vengeance  wrought  upon 
their  Pequot  oppressors,  accompanied  the  expedi- 
tion. From  the  fort  at  Saybrook  this  little  com- 
pany set  sail  on  the  twentieth  of  May,  1637,  and 
landed  in  brilliant  moonlight  near  Point  Judith, 
where  they  were  reinforced  by  four  hundred  Nar- 
ragansetts  and  Nyantics.  From  this  point  they 
turned    westward   toward   the   stronghold   of   the 


132    THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

Pequots,  near  the  place  where  the  town  of  Ston- 
ington  now  stands.  As  they  approached  the 
dreaded  spot  the  courage  of  the  Indian  allies 
gave  out,  and  they  slunk  behind,  declaring  that 
Sassacus  was  a  god  whom  it  was  useless  to  think 
of  attacking.  The  force  with  which  Mason  and 
Underhill  advanced  to  the  fray  consisted  of  just 
seventy-seven  Englishmen.  Their  task  was  to  as- 
sault and  carry  an  entrenched  fort  or  walled  vil- 
lage containing  seven  hundred  Pequots.  The  fort 
was  a  circle  of  two  or  three  acres  in  area,  girdled 
by  a  palisade  of  sturdy  sapling-trunks,  set  firm 
and  deep  into  the  ground,  the  narrow  interstices 
between  them  serving  as  loopholes  wherefrom  to 
reconnoitre  any  one  passing  by  and  to  shoot  at 
assailants.  At  opposite  sides  of  this  stronghold 
were  two  openings  barely  large  enough  to  let  any 
one  go  through.  Within  this  enclosure  were  the 
crowded  wigwams.  The  attack  was  skilfully  man- 
aged, and  was  a  complete  surprise.  A  little  be- 
fore daybreak  Mason,  with  sixteen  men,  occupied 
one  of  the  doors,  while  Underhill  made  sure  of  the 
other.  The  Indians  in  panic  sought  first  one  out- 
let and  then  the  other,  and  were  ruthlessly  shot 
down,  whichever  way  they  turned.  A  few  suc- 
ceeded in  breaking  loose,  but  these  were  caught 
and  tomahawked  by  the  Indian  allies,  who,  though 
afraid  to  take  the  risks  of  the  fight,  were  ready 
enough  to  help  slay  the  fugitives.  The  English 
threw  firebrands  among  the  wigwams,  and  soon 
And  are  ex-  ^^^  whole  villagc  was  in  a  light  blaze, 
terminated.      ^^^   ^^^^   ^f  ^^iQ  savagcs  Suffered  the 

horrible  death  which  they  were  so  fond  of  inflict- 


THE  PLANTING  OF  NEW  ENGLAND.     138 

ing  upon  their  captives.  Of  the  seven  hundred 
Pequots  in  the  stronghold,  but  five  got  away  with 
their  lives.  All  this  bloody  work  had  been  done 
in  less  than  an  hour,  and  of  the  English  there  had 
been  two  killed  and  sixteen  wounded.  It  was  the 
end  of  the  Pequot  nation.  Of  the  remnant  which 
had  not  been  included  in  this  wholesale  slaughter, 
most  were  soon  afterwards  destroyed  piecemeal  in 
a  running  fight  which  extended  as  far  westward 
as  the  site  of  Fairfield.  Sassacus  fled  across  the 
Hudson  river  to  the  Mohawks,  who  slew  him  and 
sent  his  scalp  to  Boston,  as  a  peace-offering  to  the 
English.  The  few  survivors  were  divided  between 
the  Mohegans  and  Narragansetts  and  adopted  into 
those  tribes.  Truly  the  work  was  done  with 
Cromwellian  thoroughness.  The  tribe  which  had 
lorded  it  so  fiercely  over  the  New  England  forests 
was  all  at  once  wiped  out  of  existence.  So  terrible 
a  vengeance  the  Indians  had  never  heard  of.  If 
the  name  of  Pequot  had  hitherto  been  a  name  of 
terror,  so  now  did  the  Englishmen  win  the  inher- 
itance of  that  deadly  prestige.  Not  for  eight-and- 
thirty  years  after  the  destruction  of  the  Pequots, 
not  until  a  generation  of  red  men  had  grown  up 
that  knew  not  Underbill  and  Mason,  did  the  In- 
dian of  New  England  dare  again  to  lift  his  hand 
against  the  white  man. 

Such  scenes  of  wholesale  slaughter  are  not  pleas- 
ant reading  in  this  milder  age.  But  our  forefathers 
felt  that  the  wars  of  Canaan  afforded  a  sound  pre- 
cedent for  such  cases ;  and,  indeed,  if  we  remember 
what  the  soldiers  of  Tilly  and  Wallenstein  were 
doing  at  this  very  time  iu  Germany,  we  shall  real* 


134    THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND 

ize  that  the  work  of  Mason  aud  Underhill  would 
not  have  been  felt  by  any  one  in  that  age  to  merit 
censure  or  stand  in  need  of  excuses.  As  a  matter 
of  practical  policy  the  annihilation  of  the  Pequots 
can  be  condemned  only  by  those  who  read  history 
so  incorrectly  as  to  suppose  that  savages,  whose 
business  is  to  torture  and  slay,  can  always  be  dealt 
with  according  to  the  methods  in  use  between  civil- 
ized peoples.  A  mighty  nation,  like  the  United 
States,  is  in  honour  bound  to  treat  the  red  man 
with  scrupulous  justice  and  refrain  from  cruelty  in 
punishing  his  delinquencies.  But  if  the  founders 
of  Connecticut,  in  confronting  a  danger  which 
threatened  their  very  existence,  struck  with  savage 
fierceness,  we  cannot  blame  them.  The  world  is 
so  made  that  it  is  only  in  that  way  that  the  higher 
races  have  been  able  to  preserve  themselves  and 
carry  on  their  progi-essive  work. 

The  overthrow  of  the  Pequots  was  a  cardinal 
event  in  the  planting  of  New  England.  It  re- 
moved the  chief  obstacle  to  the  colonization  of  the 
[Connecticut  coast,  and  brought  the  inland  settle- 
[ments  into  such  unimpeded  communication  with 
those  on  tide-water  as  to  prepare  the  way  for  the 
formation  of  the  New  England  confederacy.  Its 
first  fruits  were  seen  in  the  direction  taken  by  the 
next  wave  of  migration,  which  ended  the  Puritan 
exodus  from  England  to  America.  About  a  month 
after  the  storming  of  the  palisaded  village  there 
arrived  in  Boston  a  company  of  wealthy  London 
The  colony  of  merchants,  with  their  families.  The 
New  Haven,  most  prominent  among  them,  Theophi- 
lus  Eaton,  was  a  member  of  the  Company  of  Mas- 


THE  PLANTING  OF  NEW  ENGLAND.     135 

sachusetts  Bay.  Their  pastor,  John  Davenport, 
was  an  eloquent  preacher  and  a  man  of  power. 
He  was  a  graduate  of  Oxford,  and  in  1624  had 
been  chosen  vicar  of  St.  Stephen's  parish,  in  Cole- 
man street,  London.  When  he  heard  that  Cot- 
ton and  Hooker  were  about  to  sail  for  America, 
he  sought  earnestly  to  turn  them  from  what  he 
deemed  the  error  of  their  ways,  but  instead  he 
became  converted  himself  and  soon  incurred  the 
especial  enmity  of  Laud,  so  that  it  became  neces- 
sary for  him  to  flee  to  Amsterdam.  In  1636  he 
returned  to  England,  and  in  concert  with  Eaton 
organized  a  scheme  of  emigration  that  included 
men  from  Yorkshire,  Hertfordshire,  and  Kent. 
The  leaders  arrived  in  Boston  in  the  midst  of  the 
Antinomian  disputes,  and  although  Davenport  won 
admiration  for  his  skill  in  battling  with  heresy,  he 
may  perhaps  have  deemed  it  preferable  to  lead  his 
flock  to  some  new  spot  in  the  wilderness  where 
such  warfare  might  not  be  required.  The  mer- 
chants desired  a  fine  harbour  and  good  commercial 
situation,  and  the  reports  of  the  men  who  returned 
from  hunting  the  Pequots  told  them  of  just  such  a 
spot  at  Quinnipiack  on  Long  Island  Sound.  Here 
they  could  carry  out  their  plan  of  putting  into 
practice  a  theocratic  ideal  even  more  rigid  than 
that  which  obtained  in  Massachusetts,  and  arrange 
their  civil  as  well  as  ecclesiastical  affairs  in  accord- 
ance with  rules  to  be  obtained  from  a  minute  study 
of  the  Scriptures. 

In  the  spring  of  1638  the  town  of  New  Haven 
was  accordingly  founded.  The  next  year  a  swarra 
from  this  new  '^^m  settled  Milford,  while  another 


136    THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

party,  freshly  arrived  from  England,  made  the  be- 
ginnings of  Guilford.  In  1640  Stamford  was 
added  to  the  group,  and  in  1643  the  four  towns 
were  united  into  the  republic  of  New  Haven,  to 
which  Southold,  on  Long  Island,  and  Branford 
were  afterwards  added.  As  being  a  confederation 
of  independent  towns,  New  Haven  resembled  Con- 
necticut. In  other  respects  the  differences  between 
the  two  reflected  the  differences  between  Daven- 
port and  Hooker  ;  the  latter  was  what  would  now 
be  called  more  radical  than  Winthrop  or  Cotton, 
the  former  was  more  conservative.  In  the  New 
Haven  colony  none  but  church-members  could 
vote,  and  this  measure  at  the  outset  disfranchised 
more  than  half  the  settlers  in  New  Haven  town, 
nearly  half  in  Guilford,  and  less  than  one  fifth  in 
Milford.  This  result  was  practically  less  demo- 
cratic than  in  Massachusetts  where  it  was  some 
time  before  the  disfranchisement  attained  such 
dimensions.  The  power  of  the  clergy  reached  its 
extreme  point  in  New  Haven,  where  each  of  the 
towns  was  governed  by  seven  ecclesiastical  officers 
known  as  "  pillars  of  the  church."  These  magis- 
trates served  as  judges,  and  trial  by  jury  was  dis- 
pensed with,  because  no  authority  coidd  be  found 
for  it  in  the  laws  of  Moses.  The  legislation  was 
quaint  enough,  though  the  famous  "  Blue  Laws  " 
^  ,       of  New  Haven,  which  have  been  made 

Legend  of  ' 

the "  Blue  the  theme  of  so  many  iests  at  the  ex- 
pense  of  our  forefathers,  never  really 
existed.  The  story  of  the  Blue  Laws  was  first 
published  in  1781  by  the  Rev.  Samuel  Peters,  a 
Tory  refugee  in  London,  who  took  delight  in  hop- 


THE  PLANTING  OF  NEW  ENGLAND.     137 

rifying  our  British  cousins  with  tales  of  wholesale 
tarring  and  feathering  done  by  the  patriots  of  the 
Revolution.  In  point  of  strict  veracity  Dr.  Peters 
reminds  one  of  Baron  Munchausen  ;  he  declares 
that  the  river  at  Bellows  Falls  flows  so  fast  as  to 
float  iron  crowbars,  and  he  gravely  describes  sun- 
dry animals  who  were  evidently  cousins  to  the 
Jabberwok.  The  most  famous  passage  of  his  pre- 
tended code  is  that  which  enacts  that  "  no  woman 
shall  kiss  her  child  on  the  Sabbath,"  and  that  "  no 
one  shall  play  on  any  instrument  of  music  except 
the  drum,  trumpet,  or  jewsharp." 

When  the  Long  Parliament  met  in  1640,  the 
Puritan  exodus  to  New  England  came  to  an  end. 
During  the  twenty  years  which  had 
elapsed  since  the  voyage  of  the  May-  Puritan  eio- 
flower,  the  population  had  grown  to 
26,000  souls.  Of  this  number  scarcely  500  had 
arrived  before  1629.  It  is  a  striking  fact,  since  it 
expresses  a  causal  relation  and  not  a  mere  coinci- 
dence, that  the  eleven  years,  1629-1640,  during 
which  Charles  I.  governed  England  without  a 
parliament,  were  the  same  eleven  years  that  wic^ 
nessed  the  planting  of  New  England.  For  more 
than  a  century  after  this  there  was  no  considerable 
migration  to  this  part  of  North  America.  Puritan 
England  now  found  employment  for  all  its  energies 
and  all  its  enthusiasm  at  home.  The  struggle  with 
the  king  and  the  efforts  toward  reorganization  un- 
der Cromwell  were  to  occupy  it  for  another  score 
of  years,  and  then,  by  the  time  of  the  Restoration 
the  youthful  creative  energy  of  Puritanism  had 
spent  itself.    The  influence  of  this  great  movement 


138  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

was  indeed  destined  to  grow  wider  and  deeper  with 
the  progress  of  civilization,  but  after  1660  its  crea- 
tive work  began  to  run  in  new  channels  and  assume 
different  forms. 

It  is  curious  to  reflect  what  might  have  been  the 
result,  to  America  and  to  the  world,  had  things  in 
What  might  England  gone  differently  between  1620 
have  been.  ^^^  JL660.  Had  the  policy  of  James 
and  Charles  been  less  formidable,  the  Puritan  exo- 
dus might  never  have  occurred,  and  the  Virginian 
type  of  society,  varied  perhaps  by  a  strong  Dutch 
infusion,  might  have  become  supreme  in  America. 
The  western  continent  would  have  lost  in  richness 
and  variety  of  life,  and  it  is  not  likely  that  Europe 
would  have  made  a  corresponding  gain,  for  the 
moral  effect  of  the  challenge,  the  struggle,  and  the 
overthrow  of  monarchy  in  England  was  a  stimulus 
sorely  needed  by  neighbouring  peoples.  It  is  not 
always  by  avoiding  the  evil,  it  is  rather  by  grap- 
pling with  it  and  conquering  it  that  character  is 
strengthened  and  life  enriched,  and  there  is  no 
better  example  of  this  than  the  history  of  England 
in  the  seventeenth  century. 

On  the  other  hand,  if  the  Stuart  despotism  had 
triumphed  in  England,  the  Puritan  exodus  would 
doubtless  have  been  swelled  to  huge  dimensions. 
New  England  would  have  gained  strength  so 
quickly  that  much  less  irritation  than  she  actually 
suffered  between  1664  and  1689  would  probably 
have  goaded  her  into  rebellion.  The  war  of  inde- 
pendence might  have  been  waged  a  century  sooner 
tl'.an  it  was.  It  is  not  easy  to  point  to  any  especial 
aav'intaare  that  could  have  come  to  America  from 


THE  PLANTING  OF  NEW  ENGLAND.     139 

this ;  one  is  rather  inclined  to  think  of  the  pecul- 
iarly valuable  political  training  of  the  eighteenth 
century  that  would  have  been  lost.  Such  surmises 
are  for  the  most  part  idle.  But  as  concerns  Eu- 
rope, 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  Mara- 
thon or  the  Saracens  winning  Tours,  supposing  the 
worst  consequences  ever  imagined  in  those  hypo- 
thetical cases  to  have  been  realized.  Or  taking  a 
more  contracted  view,  we  can  see  how  England, 
robbed  of  her  Puritan  element,  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  oc- 
cupy as  mother  of  nations.  Her  preeminence  since 
Cromwell's  time  has  been  chiefly  due  to  her  unri- 
valled 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 
Washington  dominant  in  the  world. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  NEW  ENGLAND  CONFEDERACT. 

The   Puritan  exodus  to  New  England,  which 
came  to  an  end  about  1640,  was  purely  and  ex- 
clusively English.     There  was  nothing  in  it  that 
came  from  the  continent  of  Europe,  nothing  that 
was  either  Irish  or  Scotch,  very  little 

The  exodus  at-»ip  i 

was  purely  that  was  W  clsh.  As  Palfrey  says,  the 
population  of  26,000  that  had  been 
planted  in  New  England  by  1640  "  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  theij  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  Conti- 
nental Congress  did  the  New  England  colonies  re- 
ceive a  slight  infusion  of  non-English  blood.  In 
1652,  after  his  victories  at  Dunbar  and  Worcester, 
Cromwell  sent  270  of  his  Scottish  prisoners  to 
Boston,  where  the  descendants  of  some  of  them 


THE  NEW  ENGLAND  CONFEDERACY.     141 

still  dwell.  After  the  revocation  of  the  Edict  o£ 
Nantes  in  1685,  150  families  of  Huguenots  came 
to  Massachusetts.  And  finally  in  1719,  120  Pres- 
byterian families  came  over  from  the  north  of  Ire- 
land, and  settled  at  Londonderry  in  New  Hamp- 
shire, and  elsewhere.  In  view  of  these  facts  it  may 
be  said  that  there  is  not  a  county  in  England  of 
which  the  popidation  is  more  purely  English  than 
the  population  of  New  England  at  the  end  of  the 
eighteenth  century.  From  long  and  careful  re- 
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  in  the  narrowest  sense,  exclud- 
ing even  Wales.  As  already  observed,  every  Eng- 
lish 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 
homogeneous  in  social  condition  as  it  was  in  blood. 
The  emigration  was  preeminent  for  its  respecta- 
bility.    Like  the  best  part  of  the  emigration  to 
Virginia,  it  consisted  largely  of  country  Respectable 
squires  and  yeomen.     The  men  who  fol-  the  e^i|^' 
lowed  Winthrop  were  thrifty  and  pros-  *'''°" 
perous  in  their  old  homes  from  which  their  devo- 
tion 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  remarkably  free  from  those  scenes  of  violence 


142    THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

and  disorder  which  have  so  often  made  hideous 
the  first  years  of  new  communities.  Of  negro 
slaves  there  were  very  few,  and  these  were  em- 
ployed 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 
sea-ports,  such  as  in  those  early  days  when  negro 
labour  was  scarce,  were  sent  by  ship-loads  to  Vir- 
ginia, 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  middle  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  independ- 
ent farmers ;  thus  they  ceased  to  be  recognizable 
as  a  distinct  class  of  society.  Nevertheless  the 
common  statement  that  no  traces  of  the  "  mean 
white  '^'  are  to  be  found  in  New  England  is  per- 
haps 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  epithets  as  "  Hardscrabble  "  or  "  Hell- 
huddle."  Their  denizens  may  in  many  instances 
be  the  degenerate  offspring  of  a  sound  New  Eng- 


THE  NEW  ENGLAND  CONFEDERACY.     143 

land  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  Eng- 
land. As  regards  their  social  derivation,  the  set- 
tlers of  New  England  were  homogeneous  in  char- 
acter 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  exclusively  effected  by  picked  and 
chosen  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  Stough- 
ton  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  in- 
terest, when  we  reflect  that  the  26,000  New  Eng- 
landers  of  1640  have  in  two  hundred  and  fifty  years 
increased  to  something  like  15,000,000.  From 
these  men  have  come  at  least  one-fourth  of  the 
present  population  of  the  United  States.  Strik- 
ing as  this  fact  may  seem,  it  is  perhaps  less  strik- 
ing than  the  fact  of  the  original  migration  when 
duly  considered.  In  these  times,  when  great 
steamers  sail  every  day  from  European  ports, 
bringing  immigrants  to  a  country  not  less  ad- 
vanced in  material  civilization  than  the  country 


144    THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

which  they  leave,  the  daily  arrival  of  a  thousand 
new  citizens  has  come  to  be  a  commonplace  event. 
But  in  the  seventeenth  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  migrations  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 
work  which  insured  an  extraordinary  uniformity 
of  character  and  of  purpose  among  the  settlers. 
To  this  uniformity  of  purpose,  combined  with  com- 
plete homogeneity  of  race,  is  due  the  preponder- 
ance 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  com- 
mon 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  undertaken  in  the  interests  of  reli- 
The  migration  g^o^s  liberty,  and  then  to  upbraid  the 
tendedVo"pro.  Puntaus  for  forgetting  all  about  reH- 
Sii*reii^*our  gious  liberty  as  soon  as  peoi)le  came 
liberty.  amoug  them  who  disagreed  with  their 

opinions.     But  this  view  of  the  case  is  not  sup- 


THE  NEW  ENGLAND  CONFEDERACY.      145 

ported  by  history.  It  is  quite  true  that  the  Puri- 
tans were  chargeable  with  gross  intolerance ;  but 
it  is  not  true  that  in  this  they  were  guilty  of  in- 
consistency. The  notion  that  they  came  to  New 
England  for  the  purpose  of  establishing  religious 
liberty,  in  any  sense  in  which  we  should  under- 
stand 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  observances, 
nothing  could  have  been  further  from  their 
thoughts.  There  is  nothing  they  would  have  re- 
garded with  more  genuine  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  historio 
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  accomplish  by 
striving  with  might  and  main  is  apt  to  be  some- 
thing quite  different  from  the  end  we  dreamed  of 
1  See  the  passionate  excLunation  of  Endicott,  below,  p.  1 90 


146    THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

as  we  started  on  our  arduous  labour.  So  it  was 
with  the  Puritan  settlers  of  New  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  Massachusetts  was  the  construction  of  a  theo- 
cratic state  which  should  be  to  Christians,  under  the 
New  Testament  dispensation,  all  that  the  theocracy 
of  Moses  and  Joshua  and  Samuel  had 
ideal  of  the       bccu  to  the  Jcws  iu  Old  Testament  days. 

Puritans.  iiti  n- 

They  should  be  to  all  intents  and  pur- 
poses 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  substantial  agree- 
ment 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 
experiments  in  the  art  of  right  living.  The  state 
they  were  to  found  was  to  consist  of  a  united  body 
of  believers ;  citizenship  itself  was  to  be  co-exten- 
sive 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 


THE  NEW  ENGLAND  CONFEDERACY.     14T 

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  concrete  acts  in  which  it  was  his- 
torically manifested,  may  seem  like  the  merest 
fanaticism.  But  we  cannot  dismiss  in  this  sum- 
mary way  a  movement  which  has  been  at  the 
source  of  so  much  that  is  great  in  American  his- 
tory: 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  evolu- 
tion, and  offer  in  some  indistinctly  apprehended 
fashion  to  remodel  human  life.  But  in  these  re- 
spects the  Puritans  were  intensely  conservative. 
The  impulse  by  which  they  were  animated  was  a 
profoundly  ethical  impulse  —  the  desire 

■,        t  ni-  1  1    •  '        The  impulse 

to  lead  godly  lives,  and  to  drive  out  sm  which  sought 

,  -  .  ,  ,  .      ,     to  realize  it- 

irom  the  community  —  the  same  ethical  seu  in  the 

,  ,  .  ,  ,  Puritan  ideal 

impulse  which  animates  the  glowing  was  an  etucai 
pages  of  Hebrew  poets  and  prophets, 
and  which  has  given  to  the  history  and  literature 
of  Israel  their  commanding  influence  in  the  world. 
The  Greek,  says  Matthew  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 


148    THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

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 
common-sense.  He  avoided  the  error  of  mediaeval 
anchorites  and  mystics  in  setting  an  exaggerated 
value  upon  otherworldliness.  In  his  desire  to  win 
a  crown  of  glory  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  mod- 
ern radicals  who  would  remodel  the  fundamental 
institutions  of  property  and  of  the  family,  and 
thus  disturb  the  very  groundwork  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  es- 
sential points  is  therefore  intelligible  to  all  men, 
and  approved  by  the  common-sense  of  men,  how- 
ever various  may  be  the  terminology  —  whether 
theological  or  scientific  —  in  which  it  is  expounded. 
For  these  reasons  there  was  nothing  essentially 
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  theocratic  society  was  rational  and  not  fanat- 
in  interpret-     ical  was  its  mcthod  of  interpreting  the 

ing  Scripture,  *■  '-' 

the  Puritan       Scripturcs.      That    method    was   essen- 

appealtHl  to  ^ 

hu  reason.  tially  rationalistic  in  two  ways.  First, 
the  Puritan  laid  no  claim  to  the  possession  of  any 
peculiar  inspiration   or  divine   light  whereby  ho 


THE  NEW  ENGLAND  CONFEDERACY.     149 

might  be  aided  in  ascertaining  the  meaning  of  the 
sacred  text ;  but  he  used  his  reason  just  as  he 
would  in  any  matter  of  business,  and  he  sought  to 
convince,  and  expected  to  be  convinced,  by  rational 
argument,  and  by  nothing  else.  Secondly,  it  fol- 
lowed 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  very  far-reaching. 
In  the  conviction  that  religious  opinion  must  be 
consonant  with  reason,  and  that  religious  truth 
must  be  brought  home  to  each  individual  by  ra- 
tional argument,  we  may  find  one  of  the  chief 
causes  of  that  peculiarly  conservative  yet  flexible 
intelligence  which  has  enabled  the  Puritan  coun- 
tries 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  ser- 
mons of  the  clergymen  were  usually  learned  and 
elaborate  arguments  of  doctrinal  points,  bristling 
with  quotations  from  the  Bible,  or  from  famous 
books  of  controversial  divinity,  and  in  the  long 
winter  evenings  the  questions  thus  raised  afforded 
the  occasion  for  lively  debate  in  every  household. 
The  clergy  were,  as  a  rule,  men  of  learning,  able 


150     THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

to  read  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  rever- 
ence 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  vari- 
ations in  doctrine ;  and  while  there  was  perhaps  no 
more  than  the  ordinary  human  unwillingness  to 
listen  to  a  new  thought  merely  because  of  its  new 
ness,  it  was  above  all  things  needful  that  the  oi-tho- 
dox  soundness  of  every  new  suggestion  should  be 
thoroughly  and  severely  tested.  This  intense  in- 
terest in  doctrinal  theology  was  part  and  parcel  of 
the  whole  theory  of  New  England  life ;  because,  as 
I  have  said,  it  was  taken  for  granted  that  each  in- 
dividual must  hold  his  own  opinions  at  his  own 
personal  risk  in  the  world  to  come. 

Such    perpetual    discussion,    conducted    under 
such  a  stimulus,  afforded  in   itself   no 

^alue  of  1        1  r      •         n  i  •     • 

theoioKicai        mean    school    of    intellectual   trammg. 

diocussiou.  ... 

Viewed  in  relation  to  the  subsequent 
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 


THl.  NEW  ENGLAND  CONFEDERACY.     151 

the  Renaissance,  and  of  the  age  of  Hobbes  and 
Descartes.  At  the  same  time  the  Puritan  theory 
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.  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  knowl- 
edge with  might  and  main.  But  in  this  energetic 
diffusion  of  knowledge  they  were  unwittingly  pre- 
paring the  complete  and  irreparable  destruction  of 
the  theocratic  ideal  of  society  which  they  had 
sought  to  realize  by  crossing  the  ocean  and  set- 
tling in  New  England.  This  universal  education, 
and  this  perpetual  discussion  of  theological  ques- 
tions, were  no  more  compatible  with  rigid  adher- 
ence to  the  Calvinistic  system  than  with  submis- 
sion to  the  absolute  rule  of  Rome.  The  inevitable 
result  was  the  liberal  and  enlightened  Protestant- 
ism which  is  characteristic  of  the  best  American 
society  at  the  present  day,  and  which  is  continually 
growing  more  liberal  as  it  grows  more  enlightened 
—  a  Protestantism  which,  in  the  natural  course  of 
development,  is  coming  to  realize  the  noble  ideal 
of  Roger  Williams,  but  from  the  very  thought  of 
which  such  men  as  Winthrop  and  Cotton  and  En- 
dicott  would  have  shrunk  with  dismay. 

In  this  connection  it  is  interesting  to  note  the 


152    THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

similarity  between  the  experience  of  the  Puritans 
in  New  England  and  in  Scotland  with  respect  to 
the  influence  of  their  religious  theory  of  life  upon 
general  education.  Nowhere  has  Puritanism,  with 
its  keen  intelligence  and  its  iron  tenacity  of  pur- 
pose, 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  of  hu- 
man activity  as  the  people  of  Scotland  have 
achieved.     It  would   be  superfluous  to 

Comparison  .•  i.i  --      •  r  o       i.i        j  • 

with  the  case     mcutiou  the  preeminence  oi  ocotland  in 

of  Scotland.  i«t«i  •  ii  e 

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  eighteenth  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  Scot- 
land was  preceded  by  a  period  of  Calvinistic  or 
thodoxy  quite  as  rigorous  as  that  of  New  England. 
The  ministers  of  the  Scotch  Kirk  in  the  sevei>- 
teenth  century  cherished  a  theocratic  ideal  of  soci* 
ety  not  unlike  that  which  the  colonists  of  New 
England  aimed  at  realizing.  There  was  the  same 
austerity,  the  same  intolerance,  the  same  narrow- 
ness of  interests,  in  Scotland  that  there  was  in 
New  England.  Mr.  Buckle,  in  the  book  which 
thirty  years  ago  seemed  so  great  and  stimulating, 
gave  us  a  graphic  picture  of  this  state  of  society, 


THE  NEW  ENGLAND  CONFEDERACY.     153 

and  the  only  thing  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  thor- 
oughly 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  fol- 
lowed. 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  reasons, 
while  the  effects  of  theological  discussion  in  break- 
ing 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 
considerations  as  we  deal  with  the  history  of  the 
short-lived  New  England  Confederacy.  The  story 
is  full  of  instances  of  an  intolerant  and  domineer- 
ing 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  circumstances  contributed 
to  modify  the  Puritan  ideal,  gradually  breaking 
down  the  old  theocratic  exclusiveness  and  strength- 
ening the  spirit  of  religious  liberty. 

Scarcely  had  tlie  first  New  England  colonies  been 
established  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 


154    THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

of  religious  differences.  The  uniformity  of  pur- 
pose, great  as  it  was,  fell  far  short  of  completeness. 
Existence  of  Could  all  havo  agreed,  or  had  there 
BO  many  col-      bccu  rclio^ious  tolcration  in  the  modern 

onies  due  to  & 

^ou8.ifier-  sense,  there  was  still  room  enough  for 
ences.  ^^  jj^  Massachusctts ;    and  a  compact 

settlement  would  have  been  in  much  less  danger 
from  the  Indians.  But  in  the  founding  of  Connec- 
ticut the  theocratic  idea  had  less  weight,  and  in  the 
founding  of  New  Haven  it  had  more  weight,  than 
in  Massachusetts.  The  existence  of  Rhode  Island 
was  based  upon  that  principle  of  full  toleration 
which  the  three  colonies  just  mentioned  alike  ab- 
horred, 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  Hampshire,  two  had 
been  founded  by  Autinomians  driven  from  Boston, 
and  two  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  an- 
other and  to  liberalize  one  another.  Still  more 
was  this  true  when  they  attempted  to  enter  into  a 
political  union.  When,  for  example,  Massachusetts 
in  1641—43  annexed  the  New  Hampshire  town- 
ships, she  was  of  necessity  obliged  to  relax  in  their 
case  her  policy  of  insisting  upon  religious  conform- 
ity as  a  test  of  citizenship.  So  in  forming  the 
New  England  Confederacy,  there  were  some  mat- 


THE  NEW  ENGLAND  CONFEDERACY.     155 

ters  of  dispute  that  had  to  be  passed  over  by  mu- 
tual consent  or  connivance. 

The  same  causes  which  had  spread  the  English 
settlements  over  so  wide  a  territory  now  led,  as  an 
indirect  result,  to  their  partial  union  into  a  confed- 
eracy. The  immediate  consequence  of  the  west 
ward  movement  had  been  an  Indian  war.  Several 
savage  tribes  were  now  interspersed  between  the 
settlements,  so  that  it  became  desirable  that  the 
military  force  should  be  brought,  as  far  as  possi- 
ble, under  one  management.  The  col-  itiedto» 
ony  of  New  Netherlands,  moreover,  had  ^°mptl*f"ed- 
begiin  to  assume  importance,  and  the  «"*'<>■»• 
settlements  west  of  the  Connecticut  river  had  al- 
ready 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,  there- 
fore, in  1643  the  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  lit- 
tle states  now  contained  thirty-nine  towns,  with  an 
aggregate  population  of  24,000.  To  the  northeast 
of  Massachusetts,  which  now  extended  to  the  Pis 
cataqua,  a  small  colony  had  at  length  been  con- 
stituted under  a  proprietary  charter  somewhat 
similar  to  that  held  by  the  Cal verts  in  Maryland. 
Of  this  new  province  or  palatinate  of  Maine  the 
aged  Sir  Ferdinando  Gorges  was  Lord  Proprie- 


156     THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

tary,  and  he  had  undertaken  not  only  to  establish 
the  Church  of  England  there,  but  also  to  introduce 
usages  of  feudal  jurisdiction  like  those  remainiug 
in  the  old  country.  Such  a  community  was  not 
likely  to  join  the  Confederacy  ;  apart  from  other 
reasons,  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  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  became  the  refuge 
of  all  the  fanatical  and  turbulent  peo- 
of  disLfnUn      pie  who  could  not  submit  to  the  strict 

Rhode  Island.  i  n      i  i  e    r^  j  • 

and  orderly  governments  oi  Connecti- 
e»it  or  Massachusetts.  All  extremes  met  on  Narra- 
gansett  bay.  There  were  not  only  sensible  advo- 
cates 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 
fermentation.  People  who  fancied  themselves  fa- 
voured with  direct  revelations  from  Heaven  ;  peo- 
ple 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 ;  peo- 
ple who  advocated  either  too  little  marriage  or  too 
much  marriage  ;  all  such  eccentric  characters  as 
are  apt  to  come  to  the  surface  in  periods  of  reli- 
gious excitement  found  in  Rhode  Island  a  favoured 
sprvt  where   they  could   prophesy  without   let   or 


THE  NEW  ENGLAND  CONFEDERACY.     157 

hindrance.  But  the  immediate  practical  result  of 
so  much  discordance  in  opinion  was  the  impossibil- 
ity of  founding  a  strong  and  well-ordered  govern- 
ment. The  early  history  of  Rhode  Island  was 
marked  by  enough  of  turbulence  to  suggest  the 
question  whether,  after  all,  at  the  bottom  of  the 
Puritan's  refusal  to  recognize  the  doctrine  of  pri- 
vate inspiration,  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  settlers 
asked  leave  to  join  the  Confederacy ;  but  the  re- 
quest was  refused  on  the  ground  that  they  had  no 
stable  government  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  year  Parliament  created  a  Board 
of   L/ommissioners,   with    the   Earl    of  Warwick  and 

Tir  •    1  •         1  1      !•  1  .his  Board  of 

Warwick  at  its  head,  for  the  superin-  commiaaion- 

erg. 

tendence  of  colonial  affairs ;  and  noth- 
ing could  better  illustrate  the  loose  and  reckless 
manner  in  which  American  questions  were  treated 
in  England  than  the  first  proceedings  of  this 
board.  It  gave  an  early  instance  of  British  care- 
lessness in  matters  of  American  geography.  In 
December,  1643,  it  granted  to  Massachusetts  all  the 
territory  on  the  mainland  of  Narragansett  bay; 
and  in  the  following  March  it  incorporated  the 
townships   of    Newport    and   Portsmouth,   which 


158    THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

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  af- 
forded 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.  The  administration  of  the  league  was  put 
into  the  hands  of  a  board  of  eight  Fed- 

Constitution  ■,    /-^  •      .  i  r  ^  ^ 

of  the  Con-  eral  Commissioners,  two  irom  each  col- 
ony. The  commissioners  were  required 
to  be  church-members  in  good  standing.  They 
could  choose  for  themselves  a  president  or  chair- 
man out  of  their  own  number,  but  such  a  president 
was  to  have  no  more  power  than  the  other  mem- 
bers of  the  Board.  If  any  measure  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. 
Expenses  for  war  were  to  be  charged  to  each  col- 
ony in  proportion  to  the  number  of  males  in  each 
between  sixteen  years  of  age  and  sixty.  A  meet- 
ing of  the  Board  might  be  summoned  by  any  two 
magistrates  whenever  the  public  safety  might  seem 
to  require  it ;  but  a  regular  meeting  was  to  be  held 
once  every  year. 


THE  NEW  ENGLAND  CONFEDERACY.     169 

In  this  scheme  of  confederacy  all  power  of  tax- 
ation was  expressly  left  to  the  several  colonies. 
The  scheme  provided  for  a  mere  league, 
not  for  a  federal  union.     The  govern-  league,  not  a 

^_  .      .  °  federal  union. 

ment  of  the  Lommissioners  acted  only 
upon  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  Massa- 
chusetts. Of  the  24,000  people  in  the  confedera- 
tion, 15,000  belonged  to  Massachusetts,  while  the 
other  three  colonies  had  only  about  3,000  each. 
Massachusetts  accordingly  had  to  carry  the  heav- 
iest burden,  both  in  the  furnishing  of  soldiers  and 
in  the  payment  of  war  expenses,  while  in  the  direc- 
tion of  affairs  she  had  no  more  authority  than  one 
of  the  small  colonies.  As  a  natural  consequence, 
Massachusetts  tried  to  exert  more  authority  than 
she  was  entitled  to  by  the  articles  of  confedera- 
tion ;  and  such  conduct  was  not  unnaturally  re- 
sented by  the  small  colonies,  as  betokening  an  un- 
fair 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  jurisdiction,  and  it  made 
the  military  strength  of  the  colonies  more  availa- 
ble 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  be- 
come enduring.  After  its  downfall  it  was  pleas- 
antly remembered  by  the  people  of  New  England ; 


160    THE  BEGINNINGS  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 
ite  formation  Sovereignty  on  the  part  of  the  four  colo- 
iraSpu'r  nies.  It  is  worthy  of  note  that  they  did 
ofeovereignty.  ^^^  ^^^^  ^^^  troublc  to  ask  the  permis- 
sion of  the  home  government  in  advance.  They 
did  as  they  pleased,  and  then  defended  their  action 
afterward.  In  England  the  act  of  confederation 
was  regarded  with  jealousy  and  distrust.  But 
Edward  Winslow,  who  was  sent  over  to  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.  Nevertheless  the  fall  of  Charles  I.  brought 
up  for  the  first  time  that  question  which  a  century 
later  was  to  acquire  surpassing  interest,  —  the  ques- 
tion as  to  the  supremacy  of  Parliament  over  the 
colonies. 

Down  to  this  time  the  supreme  control  over  colo- 
nial affairs  liad  been  in  the  hands  of  the  king  and 
his  privy  council,  and  the  Parliament  had  not  dis- 


THE  NEW  ENGLAND  CONFEDERACY.     161 

puted  it  In  1624  they  had  grumbled  at  James 
I.'s  high-handed  suppression  of  the  Virginia  Com- 
pany, 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.  re- 
lating to  the  Bermudas,  they  had  fully  admitted 
this  royal  authority.  But  the  fall  of  Charles  I.  for 
the  moment  changed  all  this.     Among 

,  -  ,  ,        ,  -r.      T         FaUofCharlea 

the  royal  powers  devolved  upon  i:^arlia-  i-  brings  up 

t  .  «  .  ,      the  question 

ment  was  the  prerogfative  of  superintend-  m  to  suprem- 

»-    .  -     ,  ,       .  CI      1  acy  of  Parlia- 

mg  the  aflfairs  of  the  colonies.     Such,  at  ment  over  tii» 

colonies. 

least,  was  the  theory  held  in  England, 
and  it  is  not  easy  to  see  how  any  other  theory 
could  logically  have  been  held ;  but  the  Amer» 
icans  never  formally  admitted  it,  and  in  practice 
they  continued  to  behave  toward  Parliament  very 
much  as  they  had  behaved  toward  the  crown,  yield- 
ing just  as  little  obedience  as  possible.  When 
the  Earl  of  Warwick's  commissioners  in  1644 
seized  upon  a  royalist  vessel  in  Boston  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  Parliament.  It  was  decided  to  wink 
at  the  proceeding,  on  account  of  the  strong  sym- 
pathy between  Massachusetts  and  the  Parliament 
which  was  overthrowing  the  king.  At  the  same 
time  the  legislature  sent  over  to  London  a  skil- 
fully worded  protest  against  any  like  exercise  of 
power  in  future.  In  1651  Parliament  ordered 
Massachusetts  to  surrender  the  chartiu*  obtained 
from  Charles  I.  and  take  out  a  new  one  from  Par- 
liament, in  which  the  relations  of  the  colony  to  the 


162    THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

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  became  necessary  to 
do  something,  instead  of  sending  back  the  charter, 
the  legislature  sent  back  a  memorial,  setting  forth 
that  the  people  of  Massachusetts  were  quite  con- 
tented with  their  form  of  government,  and  hoped 
that  no  change  would  be  made  in  it.  War  be- 
tween England  and  Holland,  and  the  difficult 
political  problems  which  beset  the  brief  rule  of 
Cromwell,  prevented  the  question  from  coming  to 
an  issue,  and  Massachusetts  was  enabled  to  pre- 
serve her  independent  and  somewhat  haughty 
attitude. 

Duriug  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  government,  and  thus  raise 
again  and  again  the  question  as  to  the  extent  of 
its  imperial  supremacy.  For  our  present  purpose, 
it  is  enough  to  mention  three  of  these  cases :  1,  the 
adventures  of  Samuel  Gorton ;  2,  the  Presbyterian 
cabal ;  3,  the  persecution  of  the  Quakers.  Other 
cases  in  point  are  those  of  John  Clarke  and  the 
Baptists,  and  the  relations  of  Massachusetts  to 
the  northeastern  settlements ;  but  as  it  is  not  my 
purpose  here  to  make  a  complete  outline  of  New 
England  history,  the  three  cases  enumerated  will 
suffice. 

The  first  case  shows,  in  a  curious  and  instructive 
way,  how  religious  dissensions  were  apt  to  be  com- 
plicated with  threats  of  an  Indian  war  on  the  one 


THE  NEW  ENGLAND  CONFEDERACY.     168 

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 
sometimes  sought  to  avert  it.  As  I  have  else- 
where tried  to  show,  the  genesis  of  the  persecut- 
ing spirit  is  to  be  found  in  the  condi- 

.....  .  ,  ,  Genesis  of  th« 

tions  of  primitive  society,  where  "above  persecuting 
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  extin- 
guished in  bloodshed."  The  persecuting  spirit 
"began  to  pass  away  after  men  had  become  or- 
ganized 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  con- 
siderations, the  Puritan  communities  in  the  New 
England  wilderness  were  to  some  slight  extent  in- 
fluenced by  such  conditions  as  used  to  prevail  in 
primitive  society ;  and  this  will  help  us  to  under- 
stand the  treatment  of  the  Antinomians  and  such 
cases  as  that  with  which  we  have  now  to  deal. 

Among  the  supporters  of  Mrs.  Hutchinson,  after 
her  arrival  at  Aquedneck,  was  a  sincere  and  cour- 
ageous, but  incoherent  and  crotchetty  man  named 
Samuel  Gorton.  In  the  denunciatory  samueioor- 
language  of  that  day  he  was  called  a  **"•' 
"  proud  and  pestilent  seducer,"  or,  as  the  modem 
newspaper  would  say,  a  "crank."  It  is  well  to 
make  due  allowances   for  the   prejudice   so   con- 

^  Excurtioni  of  an  Evolutionist,  pp.  250,  255. 


164    THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

spicuous  in  the  accounts  given  by  his  enemies,  who 
felt  obliged  to  justify  their  harsh  treatment  of 
him.  But  we  have  also  his  own  writings  from 
which  to  form  an  opinion  as  to  his  character  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  Hol- 
land. The  Familists  held  that  the  essence  of  re- 
ligion consists  not  in  adherence  to  any  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  dis- 
pensation 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  ob- 
servances and  maintained  the  equal  right  of  lay- 
men with  clergymen  to  preach  the  gospel.  Plim- 
self  a  London  clotliier,  and  thanking  God  that  he 
had  not  been  brought  up  in  "  the  schools  of  human 
learning,"  he  set  up  as  a  preacher  without  ordina- 
tion, and  styled  himself  "professor  of  the  mysteries 
of  Christ."  He  seems  to  have  cherished  that  doc- 
trine of  private  inspiration  which  the  Puritans 
especially  abhorred.  It  is  not  likely  that  he  had 
any  distinct  comprehension  of  his  own  views,  for 


THE  NEW  ENGLAND  CONFEDERACY.     165 

distinctness  was  just  what  they  lacked.^  But  they 
were  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 

^  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  Scriptures ;  Turning  itself  only  according  to  the 
Composure  and  Art  of  that  Lock,  of  the  Closure  aud  Secresie  of 
that  great  Mystery  of  God  manifest  in  the  Flesh,  but  justified 
only  by  the  Spirit,  which  it  evidently  openeth  and  revealeth,  out 
of  Fall  and  Resurrection,  Sin  and  Righteousness,  Ascension  and 
Descension,  Height  and  Depth,  First  and  Last,  Beginning  and 
Ending,  Flesh  and  Spirit,  Wisdome  and  Foolishnesse,  Strength 
and  Weakness,  Mortality  and  Immortality,  Jew  and  Gentile, 
Light  and  Darknesse,  Unity  and  Multiplication,  Fruitfulness 
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  »ip  of  twaiue,  it 
openeth  that  great  two-leafed  Gate,  which  is  the  sole  Entrie  into 
the  City  of  God,  of  New  Jerusalem,  itdo  which  none  but  the  King 
of  glory  can  enter ;  and  as  that  Porter  openeth  tlie  Doore  of  the 
Sheepfold,  bi/  which  whosoever  entreth  is  the  Shepheard  of  the 
Sheep;  See  Isa.  45.  1.  Psal.  24.  7,  8,  9,  10.  John  10.  1,  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  CommaiidiiKnts,  Leviti- 
call  Services  or  Ministery,  and  fading  and  vanisliing  Priests,  or 
Ministers,  who  are  taken  away  and  cease,  and  are  not  established 
and  confirmed  by  Death,  as  holding  no  Correspondency  witli  the 
princely  Dignity,  Office,  and  Ministry  of  our  Melchisedek,  who  is 
the  only  Minister  and  Ministry  of  the  Sanctuary,  and  of  that  true 
Tabernacle  which  the  Lord  pitcht,  and  not  Man.  For  it  sup- 
plants the  Okl  Man,  and  implants  the  New ;  abroj^ates  the  Old 
Testament  or  Covenant,  and  confirms  the  New,  unto  a  tliuusjind 
Generations,  or  in  Generations  forever.  By  Samuel  (Jorf on,  Gent., 
and  at  the  time  of  penning  hereof,  in  the  Place  of  Ju<licature 
(upon  Aquethneck,  alias  Ri^ad  Island)  of  Providence  Plantations 
in  the  Nanhyganset  Bay,  New  England.  Printed  in  the  Yeer« 
1647." 


166    THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

there  was  a  gcvernment  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  temperament  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  heresi- 
archs  suffered  persecution  in  Massachusetts,  but 
Gorton  was  in  hot  water  everywhere.  His  arrival 
in  any  community  was  the  signal  for  an  immediate 
disturbance  of  the  peace.  His  troubles  began  in 
Plymouth,  where  the  wife  of  the  pastor  preferred 
He  flees  to  ^^^  teachings  to  those  of  her  husband. 
jtr„1shed  "-"'''  In  1638  he  fled  to  Aquedneck,  where  his 
thence.  ^^^^  achievement  was  a  schism  amons: 

Mrs.  Hutchinson's  followers,  which  ended  in  some 
staying  to  found  the  town  of  Portsmouth  while 
others  went  away  to  found  Newport.  Presently 
Portsmouth  found  him  intolerable,  flogged  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  jurisdiction  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  suggested  what 
could  it  have  been  in  Gorton's  teaching  that  en- 
abled him  thus  to  "  bewitch  "  these  little  commu- 
nities? 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 


THE  NEW  ENGLAND  CONFEDERACY.     167 

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. 

WiUiams  disapproved  of  Gorton,  but  was  true 
to  his  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  William  Arnold,^  sending  a  memorial 
to  Boston,  asking  for  assistance  and  counsel  in  re- 
gard to  this  disturber  of  the  peace.  How  was 
Massachusetts  to  treat  such  an  appeal  ?  She 
could  not  presume  to  meddle  with  the 

«.    .  ,  ,  ,  ,   ,  .     Providence 

anair  unless  she  could  have  permanent  protesu 
jurisdiction  over  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  col- 
ony excused  herself  for  banishing  the  Antinomians. 
He  simply  says  that  Gorton  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 

*  Father  of  Benedict  Arnold,  afterward  governor  of  Rhode 
Island,  and  owner  of  the  stone  windmill  (apparently  copied  from 
one  in  Chesterton,  Warwickshire)  which  was  formerly  supposed 
by  some  antiquarians  to  be  a  vesti(re  of  the  Northmen.  Governor 
Benedict  Arnold  was  great-grandfather  of  the  traitor. 


168    THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

present ; "  and  he  adds,  "  There  is  no  state  but  in 
the  first  place  will  seek  to  preserve  its  own  safety 
and  peace."  Whatever  might  be  the  abstract 
merits  of  Gorton's  opinions,  his  conduct  was  politi- 
cally dangerous  ;  and  accordingly  the  jurisdiction 
over  Pawtuxet  was  formally  conceded  to  Massa- 
chusetts. 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  regarded  the  summons  as  a  fla- 
grant usurpation  of  authority,  and  instead  of  obey- 
ing it  they  withdrew  to  Shawomet,  on 

He  flees  to  &  J  ' 

Shawomet,       the  wcstcm  shorc  of  Narragansett  bay, 

where  he  buys  °  '' 

land  of  the        where  they  bought  a  tract  of  land  from 

Indians.  ''  " 

the  principal  sachem  of  the  Narragan- 
setts,  Miantonomo.  The  immediate  rule  over  this 
land  belonged  to  two  inferior  chiefs,  who  ratified 
the  sale  at  the  time,  but  six  months  afterward  dis- 
avowed the  ratification,  on  the  ground  that  it  had 
been  given  under  duress  from  their  overlord  Mi- 
antonomo. 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  summoned,  along  with  Mian- 
tonomo, 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  de- 
struction of  the  Pequots.  Such  a  result  was  in- 
evitable. After  hearing  the  arguments,  the  legis- 
lature decided  to  defend  the  two  cliiefs,  provided 
they  would  put  themselves  under  the  jurisdiction 
of  Massachusetts.  This  was  done,  while  further 
complaints  against  Gorton   came  from  the  citizens 


THE  NEW  ENGLAND  CONFEDERACY.     169 

of  Providence.  Gorton  and  his  men  were  now 
peremptorily  summoned  to  Boston  to  show  cause 
why  they  should  not  surrender  their  land  at  Shawo- 
met  and  to  answer  the  charges  against  them.  On 
receiving  from  Gorton  a  defiant  reply,  couched  in 
terms  which  some  thought  blasphemous,  the  gov- 
ernment of  Massachusetts  prepared  to  use  force. 

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  na- 
tive 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  govern- 
ment at  Boston,  he  improved  the  occasion  by  gath' 
ering  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  pres- 
ent township  of  Norwich.  Encumbered  with  a  coat 
of  mail  which  his  friend  Gorton  had  given  him, 
Miantonomo  was  overtaken  and  cap-  Miantonomo 
tured.  By  ordinary  Indian  usage  he  *"  "'^'"" 
would  have  been  put  to  death  with  fiendish  tor- 
ments, as  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  Mohegan 
chief.  The  apj)earauce  of  a  schism  in  the  English 
counsels  was  more  than  he  could  quite  fathom. 
When  the  affair  had  somewhat  more  fully  devel- 
oped itself,  some  of  the  Indians  spoke  of  the  white 


170    THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

men  as  divided  into  two  rival  tribes,  the  Gorton- 
oges  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  in  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  Commis- 
sioners who  were  there  holding  their  first  regular 
meeting.  It  was  now  the  turn  of  the  commission- 
ers to  be  perplexed.  According  to  English  law 
there  was  no  good  reason  for  putting  Mianto- 
nomo  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 
cherishing  hostile  designs.  To  set  their  sachem  at 
liberty,  especially  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  fifty 
clergymen,  from  all  parts  of  New  England,  was  in 
session  at  Boston,  and  the  question  was  referred  to 
a  committee  of  five  of  their  number.  The  decision 
was  prompt  that  Miantonomo  must  die.  He  was 
sent  back  to  Hartford  to  be  slain  by  Uncas,  but 
two  messengers  accompanied  him,  to  see  that  no 

*  Gorton,  Simplicities s  Defence  against  Seven-headed  Policy,  p 

6a 


THE  NEW  ENGLAND  CONFEDERACY-     171 

tortures  were  inflicted.  A  select  band  of  Mohegan 
warriors  journeyed  through  the  forest  with  the 
prisoner  and  the  two  Englishmen,  until  they  came 
to  the  plain  where  the  battle  had  been  fought. 
Then  at  a  signal  from  Uncas,  the  war-  Death  of 
nor  walking  behind  Miantonomo  si- 
lently lifted  his  tomahawk  and  sank  it  into  the 
brain  of  the  victim  who  fell  dead  without  a  groan. 
Uncas  cut  a  warm  slice  from  the  shoulder  and 
greedil}'  devoured  it,  declaring  that  the  flesh  of  hia 
enemy  was  the  sweetest  of  meat  and  gave  strength 
to  his  heart.  Miantonomo  was  buried  there  on  the 
scene  of  his  defeat,  which  has  ever  since  been 
known  as  the  Sachem's  Plain.  This  was  in  Sep- 
tember, 1643,  and  for  years  afterward,  in  that 
month,  parties  of  Narragansetts  used  to  visit  the 
spot  and  with  frantic  gestures  and  hideous  yells 
lament  their  fallen  leader.  A  heap  of  stones  was 
raised  over  the  grave,  and  no  Narragansett  came 
near  it  without  adding  to  the  pile.  After  many  a 
summer  had  passed  and  the  red  men  had  disap- 
peared from  the  land,  a  Yankee  farmer,  with  whom 
thrift  prevailed  over  sentiment,  cleared  away  the 
mound  and  used  the  stones  for  the  foundation  of 
his  new  barn.^ 

One  cannot  regard  this  affair  as  altogether  cred- 
itable to  the  Federal  Commissioners  and  their 
clerical  advisers.  One  of  the  dearest-headed  and 
most  impartial  students  of  our  history  observes 
that  "  if  the  English  were  to  meddle  in  the  matter 
at  all,  it  was  their  clear  duty  to  enforce  as  tar  as 

*  De  Forest,  Ilittory  of  the  Indiana  of  Connecticut,  II<irtford, 
1860,  p.  198. 


172    THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

might  be  the  principles  recognized  by  civilized 
men.  When  they  accepted  the  appeal  made  by 
Uncas  they  shifted  the  responsibility  from  the 
Mohegan  chief  to  themselves."  ^  The  decision  was 
doubtless  based  purely  upon  grounds  of  policy. 
Miantonomo  was  put  out  of  the  way  because  he 
was  believed  to  be  dangerous.  In  the  thirst  for 
revenge  that  was  aroused  among  the  Narragansetts 
there  was  an  alternative  source  of  danger,  to  which 
I  shall  hereafter  refer.^  It  is  difficult  now  to  de- 
cide, as  a  mere  question  of  safe  policy,  what  the 
English  ought  to  have  done.  The  chance  of  being 
dragged  into  an  Indian  war,  through  the  feud  be- 
tween Narragansetts  and  Mohegans,  was  always 
imminent.  The  policy  which  condemned  Mianto- 
nomo was  one  of  timidity,  and  fear  is  merciless. 

The  Federal  Commissioners  heartily  approved 
the  conduct  of  Massachusetts  toward  Gorton,  and 
adopted  it  in  the  name  of  the  United  Colonies. 
After  a  formal  warning,  which  passed  unheeded,  a 
company  of  forty  men,  under  Edward  Johnson  of 
Woburn  and  two  other  officers,  was  sent  to  Sha- 
womet.     Some  worthy  citizens  of  Provi- 

Expedition  *'  ,  ,. 

against  Sha-     dcncc  cssaved  to  play  the  part  of  media- 

womet.  *'  X       .'  1  1         /-> 

tors,  and  after  some  parley  the  Gorton- 
ites  offered  to  submit  to  arbitration.  The  proposal 
was  conveyed  to  Boston,  and  the  clergy  were  again 
consulted.  They  declared  it  beneath  the  dignity 
of  Massachusetts  to  negotiate  "  with  a  few  fugi- 
tives living  without  law  or  government,"  and  they 
would  no  more    compound  with   Gorton's  "  blafr 

'  Doyle,  Puritan  Colonies,  L  324. 
*  See  below,  p.  222,  note. 


THE  NEW  ENGLAND  CONFEDERACY.     173 

phemous  revilings  "  than  they  would  bargain  with 
the  Evil  One.  The  community  must  be  "  purged  *' 
of  such  wickedness,  either  by  repentance  or  by 
punishment.  The  ministers  felt  that  God  would 
hold  the  commimity  responsible  for  Gorton  and 
visit  calamities  upon  them  unless  he  were  silenced.^ 
The  arbitration  was  refused,  Gorton's  blockhouse 
was  besieged  and  captured,  and  the  agitator  was 
carried  with  nine  of  his  followers  to  Boston,  where 
they  were  speedily  convicted  of  heresy  and  sedition. 
Before  passing  judgment  the  General 
Court  as  usual  consulted  with  the  clergy  tence  of  the 
who  recommended  a  sentence  of  death. 
Their  advice  was  adopted  by  the  assistants,  but  the 
deputies  were  more  merciful,  and  the  heretics  were 
sentenced  to  imprisonment  at  the  pleasure  of  the 
court.  In  this  difference  between  the  assistants 
and  the  deputies,  we  observe  an  early  symptom  of 
that  popular  revolt  against  the  ascendancy  of  the 
clergy  which  was  by  and  by  to  become  so  much 
more  conspicuous  and  effective  in  the  affair  of  the 
Quakers.  Another  symptom  might  be  seen  in  the 
circumstance  that  so  much  sympathy  was  ex- 
pressed for  the  Gortonites,  especially  by  women, 
that  after  some  months  of  imprisonment  and  abuse 
the  heretics  were  banished  under  penalty  of  death. 
Gorton  now  went  to  England  and  laid  his  tale 
of  woe  before  the  parliamentary  Board 
of  Commissioners.  The  Earl  of  War.  pais  to'?ar. 
wick  behaved  with  moderation.  He  de- 
clined to  commit  himself  to  an  opinion  as  to  the 

1  See   my   Excurtiom   of  am  Evolutionist,  pp.  23^-242,  260* 
866,  280-289. 


174  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

merits  of  the  quarrel,  but  Gorton's  title  to  Sh* 
womet  was  confirmed.  He  returned  to  Boston  with 
an  order  to  the  government  to  allow  him  to  pass 
unmolested  through  Massachusetts,  and  hereafter 
to  protect  him  in  the  possession  of  Shawomet.  If 
this  little  commonwealth  of  15,000  inhabitants  had 
been  a  nation  as  powerful  as  France,  she  could  not 
have  treated  the  message  more  haughtily.  By  a 
majority  of  one  vote  it  was  decided  not  to  refuse  so 
trifling  a  favour  as  a  passage  through  the  country 
for  just  this  once ;  but  as  for  protecting  the  new 
town  of  Warwick  which  the  Gorton ites  proceeded 
to  found  at  Shawomet,  although  it  was  several 
times  threatened  by  the  Indians,  and  the  settlers 
appealed  to  the  parliamentary  order,  that  order 
Massachusetts  flatly  and  doggedly  refused  to  obey.^ 
In  the  discussions  of  which  these  years  were  so 
full,  "  King  Winthrop,"  as  his  enemy  Morton 
called    him,  used  some  very  significant 

Winthrop's  .  . 

prophetic         lauffuagfe.     By  a  curious  legal  fiction  of 

opinion.  o       o  j  o 

the  Massachusetts  charter  the  colonists 
were  supposed  to  hold  their  land  as  in  the  manor 
of  East  Gi-eenwich  near  London,  and  it  was  argued 
that  they  were  represented  in  Parliament  by  the 
members  of  the  county  or  borough  which  contained 
that  manor,  and  were  accordingly  subject  to  the 
jurisdiction  of  Parliament.  It  was  further  argued 
that  since  the  king  had  no  absolute  sovereignty  in- 

^  Gorton's  life  at  Warwick,  after  all  these  troubles,  seemfl  to 
have  been  quiet  and  happy.  He  died  in  1677  at  a  great  age.  In 
1771  Dr.  Ezra  Stiles  visited,  in  Providence,  his  bust  surviving  dis- 
ciple, bom  in  1691.  This  old  man  said  that  Gorton  wrote  in 
heaven,  and  none  can  understand  his  books  except  those  who  live 
in  bsaven  while  on  earth. 


THE  NEW  ENGLAND  CONFEDERACY.     175 

dependent  of  Parliament  he  could  not  by  charter 
impart  any  such  independent  sovereignty  to  others. 
Winthrop  did  not  dispute  these  points,  but  ob- 
served that  the  safety  of  the  commonwealth  was 
the  supreme  law,  and  if  in  the  interests  of  that 
safety  it  should  be  found  necessary  to  renounce  the 
authority  of  Parliament,  the  colonists  would  be  jus 
tified  in  doing  so.'  This  was  essentially  the  same 
doctrine  as  was  set  forth  ninety-nine  years  later  by 
young  Samuel  Adams  in  his  Commencement  Ora- 
tion at  Harvard. 

The  case  of  the  Presbyterian  cabal  admits  of 
briefer  treatment  than  that  of  Gorton.  There  had 
now  come  to  be  many  persons  in  Massachusetts 
who  disapproved  of  the  provision  which  restricted 
the  suffrage  to  members  of  the  Independent  or 
Congregational  churches  of  New  England,  and  in 
164G  the  views  of  these  people  were  presented  in 
a  petition  to  the  General  Court.  The  petitioners 
asked  "  that  their  civil  disabilities  might  be  re- 
moved, and  that  all  members  of  the  churches  of 
England  and  Scotland  might  be  admitted  to  com- 
munion with  the  New  England  churches.  If  this 
could  not  be  granted  they  prayed  to  be  released 
from  all  civil  burdens.  Should  the  court  refuse  to 
entertain  their  complaint,  they  would  be  obliged  to 
bring  their  case  before  Parliament."  *  The  leading 
signers  of  this  menacing  petition  were 
William  Vassall,  Samuel  Maverick,  and  2^,^^^' 
Dr.  Robert  Child.  Maverick  we  hav<' 
already  met.     Prom  the  day  when  the  ships  of  tht 

>  Doyle,  Puritan  Colonits,  I  360. 
2  Doyle,  i  372. 


J 


176    THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

first  Puritan  settlers  had  sailed  past  his  log  foB 
tress  on  Noddle's  Island,  he  had  been  their  enemy ; 
"  a  man  of  loving  and  curteous  behaviour,"  says 
Johnson,  "  very  ready  to  entertaine  strangers,  yet 
an  enemy  to  the  reformation  in  hand,  being  strong 
for  the  lordly  prelatical  power."  Vassall  was  not 
a  denizen  of  Massachusetts,  but  lived  in  Scituate, 
in  the  colony  of  PljTnouth,  where  there  were  no 
such  restrictions  upon  the  suffrage.  Child  was  a 
learned  physician  who  after  a  good  deal  of  roaming 
about  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  re- 
quest would  seem  at  first  sight  reasonable  enough. 
At  a  superficial  glance  it  seems  conceived  in  a 
modern  spirit  of  liberalism.  In  reality  it  was  noth- 
ing of  the  sort.  In  England  it  was  just  the  critical 
moment  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  advantage  of  the  discontent  of  the  disfran- 
chised citizens  in  Massachusetts  in  order  to  put  in 
an  entering  wedge.  This  was  thoroughly  under- 
stood by  the  legislature  of  Massachusetts,  and  ac- 
cordingly the  petition  was  dismissed  and  the  peti- 
tioners 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   Commis- 


THE  NEW  ENGLAND  CONFEDERACY.     177 

sioners,  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  crowning  horror.  It  seemed  scarcely  less 
than  treason.  The  signers  of  this  petition  were 
the  same  who  had  signed  the  petition  to  the  Gen- 
eral 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  Plym- 
outh, as  an  advocate  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,  en- 
titling his  pamphlet  "  New  England's  Salamander 
discovered."  The  cabal  accomplished  nothing  be- 
cause of  the  decisive  defeat  of  Presbyterianism  in 
England.     "  Pride's  Purge  "  settled  all  that. 

The  petition  of  Vassall  and  his  friends  was  the 
occasion  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  Cam- 
bridge  Platform,   which    adopted    the  bridge  piat- 
Westminster   Confession   as   its  creed,   ofwi'nthrop 
carefully   defined    the    powers    of    the 
clergy,  and  declared  it  to  be  the  duty  of  magis- 
trates to  suppress  heresy.     In  1649  the   General 
Court  laid  this  platform  before  the  congregations ; 
in  1651  it  was  adopted ;  and  this  event  may  be  re- 
garded as  completing  the  theocratic  organization 
of  the  Puritan  commonwealth   in  Massachusetts* 


178    THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

It  was  immediately  preceded  and  followed  by  the 
deaths  of  the  two  foremost  men  in  that  common- 
wealth. John  Winthrop  died  in  1649  and  John 
Cotton  in  1652.  Both  were  men  of  extraordinary 
power.  Of  Winthrop  it  is  enough  to  say  that  un- 
der his  skilful  guidance  Massachusetts  had  been 
able  to  pursue  the  daring  policy  which  had  charac- 
terized the  first  twenty  years  of  her  history,  and 
which  in  weaker  hands  would  almost  surely  have 
ended  in  disaster.  Of  Cotton  it  may  be  said  that 
he  was  the  most  eminent  among  a  group  of  clergy- 
men who  for  learning  and  dialectical  skill  have  sel- 
dom been  surpassed.  Neither  Winthrop  nor  Cot- 
ton approved  of  toleration  upon  principle.  Cotton, 
in  his  elaborate  controversy  with  Koger  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  perse- 
cute 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  else- 
where ;  there  was  room  enough  on  the  American 
continent.  But  while  neither  Winthrop  nor  Cot- 
ton understood  the  principle  of  religious  liberty, 
at  the  same  time  neither  of  them  had  the  tempera- 
ment 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 
ineffaceable  stain  upon  the  annals  of  Massachusetts. 


THE  NEW  ENGLAND  CONFEDERACY.     179 

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  years  following  Win- 
throp's  death,  the  srovernor  of  Massachu- 

**  .         Endicott  and 

setts  was  John  iiiudicott,    a  sturdy  pio-  Norton  take 

"'    *^  the  lead. 

neer,  whose  services  to  the  colony  had 
been  great.  He  was  honest  and  conscientious,  but 
passionate,  domineering,  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  preaching  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  Protestant- 
ism.     Of  all  Protestant  sects  the  Quakers  went 
furthest  in  stripping  ofiE  from  Christianity  its  non- 
essential features  of  doctrine  and  cere-  ^^  ouakera, 
monial.     Their  ideal  was  not  a  theoc-  ^"g'^^'*®'' 
racy  but  a  separation  between  church 
and  state.     They  would  abolish  all  distinction  be- 
tween clergy  and  laity,  and  could  not  be  coaxed  or 
bullied  into  paying  tithes.     They  also  refused  to 
render  military  service,  or  to  take  the  oath  of  alle- 
((iance.     In   these  ways  they  came  at  once  into 


i80     THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

antagonism  both  with  church  and  with  state.  In 
doctrine  their  chief  peculiarity  was  the  assertion  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 
absolute  assertion  of  the  right  of  private  judgment ; 
and  when  it  is  added  that  in  the  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 
Lord's  Day  into  a  Jewish  Sabbath,  we  see  that 
they  had  in  some  respects  gone  far  on  the  road 
toward  modern  rationalism.  It  was  not  to  be  ex- 
pected that  such  opinions  should  be  treated  by  the 
Puritans  in  any  other  spirit  than  one  of  extreme 
abhorrence  and  dread.  The  doctrine  of  the  "  In- 
ward Light,"  or  of  private  inspiration,  was  some- 
thing especially  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  inspira- 
tion 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 


THE  NEW  ENGLAND  CONFEDERACY,     181 

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  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 
assumptions  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  valu- 
able as  indicating  the  temper  in  which  these  dis- 
turbers of  the  Puritan  theocracy  were  regarded. 
In  accusing  them  of  rejecting  the  Bible  and  mak- 
ing 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  war- 
rant the  belief  that  their  anarchical  doctrines  en- 
tailed, as  a  natural  consequence,  disor- 

,-  IT  11  1  T1  Violent  mani- 

derly  and  disreputable  conduct.  In  those  fentatioiiB  of 

days  all  manifestations  of  dissent  were 

apt  to  be  violent,  and  the  persecution  which  they 

1  Milman,  Latin  Chriaiianity,  tu.  390. 


182    THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

encountered  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  governor  as  he  walked 
up  the  street ;  how  they  used  to  rush  into  church 
on  Sundays  and  interrupt  the  sermon  with  un- 
timely remarks ;  how  Thomas  Newhouse  once 
came  into  the  Old  South  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  Wardwell  and  Deborah  Wilson  ran 
about  the  streets  in  the  primitive  costume  of  Eve 
before  the  fall,  and  called  their  conduct  "  testify- 
ing 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. 

Such  incidents,  however,  do  not  afford  the  slight- 
est excuse  for  the  cruel  treatment  which  the  Qua- 
kers received  in  Boston,  nor  do  they  go  far  toward 
explaining  it.  Persecution  began  immediately,  be- 
fore the  new-comers  had  a  chance  to  behave  them- 
selves well  or  ill.  Their  mere  coming  to  Boston 
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  aggressive.  There  were  at  one  time  more 
than  four  thousand  of  them  in  English  jails ;  yet 
when  any  of  them  left  England,  it  was  less  to  es« 
cape  persecution  than  to  preach  their  doctrines  far 
and  wide  over  the  earth.    Their  missionaries  found 


THE  NEW  ENGLAND  CONFEDERACF.     183 

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  England 
to  convert  its  inhabitants,  or  at  any  rate  to  estab- 
lish 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  of  their  num- 
ber, Anue   Austin    and   Mary   Fisher,  and  Mary 

.'  J  '    Fisher. 

sailed  for  Boston.  When  they  landed, 
on  a  May  morning  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  win- 
dows were  boarded  up.  There  was  no  law  as  yet 
enacted  against  Quakers,  but  a  council  summoned 
for  the  occasion  pronounced  their  doctrines  blas- 
phemous and  devilish.  The  books  which  the  poor 
women  had  with  them  were  seized  and  publicly 
burned,  and  the  women  themselves  were  kept  in 
prison  half-starved  for  five  weeks  until  the  ship 
they  had  come  in  was  ready  to  return  to  Barbadoes. 
Soon  after  their  departure  Endicott  came  home. 
He  found  fault  with  Bellingham's  conduct  as  too 
gentle ;  if  he  had  been  there  he  would  have  had  the 
hussies  flogged. 

Five  years  afterward  Mary  Fisher  went  to  Adri- 
anople  and  tried  to  convert  the  Grand  Turk,  who 
treated  her  with  grave  courtesy  and  allowed  her 
to  prophesy  unmolested.  This  is  one  of  the  nu- 
merous incidents  that,  on  a  superficial  view  of  hia* 


184    THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

tory,  might  be  cited  in  support  of  the  opinion  that 
there  has  been  on  the  whole  more  tolerance  in  the 
Mussulman  than  in  the  Christian  world.  Rightly 
interpreted,  however,  the  fact  has  no  such  implica- 
tion. In  Massachusetts  the  preaching  of  Quaker 
doctrines  might  (and  did)  lead  to  a  revolution  ;  in 
Turkey  it  was  as  harmless  as  the  barking  of  dogs. 
Governor  Endicott  was  afraid  of  Mary  Fisher  j 
Mahomet  IV.  was  not. 

No  sooner  had  the  two  women  been  shipped 
from  Boston  than  eight  other  Quakers  arrived 
from  London.  They  were  at  once  arrested.  While 
they  were  lying  in  jail  the  Federal  Commissioners, 
then  in  session  at  Plymouth,  recommended  that 
laws  be  forthwith  enacted  to  keep  these  dreaded 
heretics  out  of  the  land.  Next  year  they  stooped 
so  far  as  to  seek  the  aid  of  Rhode  Island,  the  col- 
ony which  they  had  refused  to  admit  into  their 
confederacy.  "  They  sent  a  letter  to  the  authori- 
ties of  that  colony,  signing  themselves  their  loving 
friends  and  neighbours,  and  beseeching  them  to 
preserve  the  whole  body  of  colonies  against  '  such 
a  pest '  by  banishing  and  excluding  all  Quakers,  a 
measure  to  which  '  the  rule  of  charity  did  oblige 
them.'  "  Roger  Williams  was  then  president  of 
Rhode  Island,  and  in  full  accord  with  his 

Noble  conduct  ,    . 

of  Rhode  noblo  Spirit  was  the  re})ly  of  the  assembly. 
"  We  have  no  law  amongst  us  whereby 
to  punish  any  for  only  declaring  by  words  their 
minds  and  understandings  conceniing  the  things 
and  ways  of  God  as  to  salvation  and  our  eternal 
condition."  As  for  these  Quakers  we  find  that 
where  they  are  "  most  of  all  suffered  to  declare 


THE  NEW  ENGLAND  CONFEDERACY.     185 

themselves  freely  and  only  opposed  by  arguments 
in  discourse,  there  they  least  of  all  desire  to  come." 
Any  breach  of  the  civil  law  shall  be  punished,  but 
the  "  freedom  of  different  consciences  shall  be  re- 
spected." This  reply  enraged  the  confederated 
colonies,  and  Massachusetts,  as  the  strongest  and 
most  overbearing,  threatened  to  cut  off  the  trade 
of  Rhode  Island,  which  forthwith  ap- 

'  •  m  Roger  Wil- 

pealed  to  Cromwell  for  protection.   The  liama  appeals 

^  f  to  CromwelL 

language  of  the  appeal  is  as  touching  as 
its  broad  Christian  spirit  is  grand.  It  recognizes 
that  by  stopping  trade  the  men  of  Massachusetts 
will  injure  themselves,  yet,  it  goes  on  to  say,  "  for 
the  safeguard  of  their  religion  they  may  seem  to 
neglect  themselves  in  that  respect ;  for  what  will 
not  men  do  for  their  God  ?  "  But  whatever  for- 
tune may  befall,  "  let  us  not  be  compelled  to  exer- 
cise any  civil  power  over  men's  consciences."  ^ 

There  could  never,  of  course,  be  a  doubt  as  to 
who  drew  up  this  state  paper.  During  his  last 
visit  to  England,  three  years  before,  Roger  Wil- 
liams had  spent  several  weeks  at  Sir  Harry  Vane's 
country  house  in  Lincolnshire,  and  he  had  also 
been  intimately  associated  with  Cromwell  and 
Milton.  The  views  of  these  great  men  were  the 
most  advanced  of  that  age.  They  were  coming  to 
understand  the  true  principle  upon  which  tolera- 
tion should  be  based.^  Vane  had  said  in  Parlia- 
ment, "  Why  should  the  labours  of  any  be  sup- 
pressed, if  sober,  though  never  so  different  ?  Wa 
now  profess  to  seek  God,  we  desire  to  see  light  1  ** 

1  Doyle,  ii.  133,  134  ;  Rhode  Island  Records,  i.  377,  378. 
'  See  my  JExcursions  of  an  Evolutionist,  pp.  247,  289-293. 


186    THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

This  Williams  called  a  "heavenly  speech."  The 
sentiment  it  expressed  was  in  accordance  with  the 
practical  policy  of  Cromwell,  and  in  the  appeal 
of  the  president  of  Rhode  Island  to  the  Lord 
Protector  one  hears  the  tone  with  which  friend 
speaks  to  friend. 

In  thus  protecting  the  Quakers,  Williams  never 
for  a  moment  concealed  his  antipathy  to  their 
doctrines.  The  author  of  "  George  Fox  digged 
out  of  his  Burrowes,"  the  sturdy  controversialist 
who  in  his  seventy-third  year  rowed  himself  in  a 
boat  the  whole  length  of  Narragansett  bay  to  en- 
gage in  a  theological  tournament  against  three 
Quaker  champions,  was  animated  by  nothing  less 
than  the  broadest  liberalism  in  his  bold  reply  to 
the  Federal  Commissioners  in  1657.  The  event 
showed  that  under  his  guidance  the  policy  of 
Rhode  Island  was  not  only  honourable  but  wise. 

The  four  confederated  colonies  all  pro- 
against  tiie    "  ccedcd  to  pass  laws  banishing  Quakers 

and  making  it  a  penal  offence  for  ship- 
masters to  bring  them  to  New  England.  These 
laws  differed  in  severity.  Those  of  Connecticut, 
in  which  we  may  trace  the  influence  of  the  younger 
John  Winthrop,  were  the  mildest ;  those  of  ^lassa- 
chusetts  were  the  most  severe,  and  as  Quakers  kept 
coming  all  the  more  in  spite  of  them,  they  grew 
harsher  and  harsher.  At  first  the  Quaker  who 
persisted  in  returning  was  to  be  flogged  and  im- 
prisoned at  hard  labour,  next  his  ears  were  to  be 
cut  off,  and  for  a  third  offence  his  tongue  was  to 
be  bored  with  a  hot  iron.  At  length  in  1G58,  the 
Federal    Commissioners,   sitting    at    Boston   with 


THE  NE  W  ENGLA  ND  CONFEDERA  CY.     1 87 

Endicott  as  chairman,  recommended  capital  pun. 
isliment.  It  must  be  borne  in  mind  that  the  gen- 
eral reluctance  toward  prescribing  or  inflicting  the 
death  penalty  was  much  weaker  then  ji,g  ^^^^^ 
than  now.  On  the  statute-books  there  P«°^*y- 
were  not  less  than  fifteen  capital  crimes,  including 
such  offences  as  idolatry,  witchcraft,  blasphemy, 
marriage  within  the  Levitical  degrees,  "  presump- 
tuous sabbath -breaking,"  and  cursing  or  smiting 
one's  parents.^  The  infliction  of  the  penalty,  how- 
ever, lay  practically  very  much  within  the  discre- 
tion of  the  court,  and  was  generally  avoided  except 
in  cases  of  murder  or  other  heinous  felony.  In 
some  of  these  ecclesiastical  offences  the  statute 
seems  to  have  served  the  purpose  of  a  threat,  and 
was  therefore  perhaps  the  more  easily  enacted. 
Yet  none  of  the  colonies  except  Massachusetts 
now  adopted  the  suggestion  of  the  Federal  Com- 
missioners and  threatened  the  Quakers  with  death. 
In  Massachusetts  the  opposition  was  very  strong 
indeed,  and  its  character  shows  how  wide  the  di- 
vergence in  sentiment  had  already  become  be- 
tween the  upper  stratum  of  society  and  the  people 
in  general.  This  divergence  was  one  result  of  the 
excessive  weight  given  to  the  clergy  by  the  restric- 
tion of  the  suffrage  to  church  members.  One 
might  almost  say  that  it  was  not  the  people  of 
Massachusetts,  after  all,  that  shed  the  blood  of 
the  Quakers ;  it  was  Endicott  and  the  clergy.  The 
bill  establishing  death  as  the  penalty  for  returning 
after  banishment  was  passed  in  the  upper  house 

*  Colonial   Laws   of  Massachusetts,    pp.    14-16;    Levermore** 
licpiibitc  o/  New  Ilaven,  p.  153. 


188  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

without  serious  difficulty ;  but  in  the  lower  house 
it  was  at  first  defeated.  Of  the  tventy-six  depu- 
ties fifteen  were  opposed  to  it,  but  one  of  these 
fell  sick  and  two  were  intimidated,  so  that  finally 
the  infamous  measure  was  passed  by  a  vote  of 
thirteen  against  twelve.  Probably  it  would  not 
have  passed  but  for  a  hopeful  feeling  that  an  oc- 
casion for  putting  it  into  execution  would  not  be 
likely  to  arise.  It  was  hoped  that  the  mere  threat 
would  prove  effective.  Endicott  begged  the  Qua- 
kers to  keep  away,  saying  earnestly  that  he  did  not 
desire  their  death ;  but  the  more  resolute  spirits 
were  not  deterred  by  fear  of  the  gallows.  In 
September,  1659,  William  Robinson,  Marmaduke 
Stevenson,  and  Mary  Dyer,  who  had  come  to 
Boston  expressly  to  defy  the  cruel  law,  were  ban- 
ished. Mrs.  Dyer  was  a  lady  of  good  family,  wife 
of  the  secretary  of  Rhode  Island.  She  had  been 
an  intimate  friend  of  Mrs.  Hutchinson.  While 
she  went  home  to  her  husband,  Stevenson  and 
Robinson  went  only  to  Salem  and  then  faced 
about  and  came  back  to  Boston.  Mrs.  Dyer  also 
returned.  All  three  felt  themselves  under  divine 
command  to  resist  and  defy  the  persecutors.  On 
the  27th  of  October  they  were  led  to  the  galbws 
on  Boston  Common,  under  escort  of  a 
Boston  Com-     hundred   soldiers.      Many   people   had 

mon.  -  ,  ,1 

begun  to  cry  shame  on  such  proceed- 
ings, and  it  was  thought  necessary  to  take  precau- 
tions against  a  tumult.  The  victims  tried  to  ad- 
dress the  crowd,  but  their  voices  were  drowned  by 
the  beating  of  drums.  While  the  Rev.  John  Wil- 
son railed  and  scoffed  at  them  from  the  foot  of  the 


THE  NEW  ENGLAND  CONFEDERACY,     189 

gallows  the  two  brave  men  were  hanged.  The 
halter  had  been  placed  upon  Mrs.  Dyer  when  her 
son,  who  had  come  in  all  haste  from  Rhode  Island, 
obtained  her  reprieve  on  his  promise  to  take  her 
away.  The  bodies  of  the  two  men  were  denied 
Christian  burial  and  thrown  uncovered  into  a  pit. 
All  the  efforts  of  husband  and  son  were  unable  to 
keep  Mrs.  Dyer  at  home.  In  the  following  spring 
she  returned  to  Boston  and  on  the  first  day  of 
Jime  was  again  taken  to  the  gallows.  At  the  last 
moment  she  was  offered  freedom  if  she  would  only 
promise  to  go  away  and  stay,  but  she  refused.  "  In 
obedience  to  the  will  of  the  Lord  I  came,"  said  she, 
*'  and  in  his  will  I  abide  faithful  unto  death."  And 
so  she  died. 

Public  sentiment  in  Boston  was  now  turning  so 
strongly  against  the  magistrates  that  they  began 
to  weaken  in  their  purpose.  But  there  was  one 
more  victim.  In  November,  1660,  William  Leddra 
returned  from  banishment.  The  case  was  clear 
enough,  but  he  was  kept  in  prison  four  months  and 
every  effort  was  made  to  induce  him  to  promise  to 
leave  the  colony,  but  in  vain.  In  the  following 
March  he  too  was  put  to  death.  A  few  days  be- 
fore the  execution,  as  Leddra  was  being  questioned 
in  court,  a  memorable  scene  occurred.  Wenlock 
Christison  was  one  of  those  who  had  weniock 
been  banished  under  penalty  of  death,  do^anc'etwd 
On  his  return  he  made  straight  for  the  "<='°''y- 
town-house,  strode  into  the  court-room,  and  with 
uplifted  finger  addressed  the  judges  in  words  of 
authority.  "  I  am  come  here  to  warn  you,"  said 
he,  "that  ye  shed  no  more  innocent  blood."     He 


190    THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

was  instantly  seized  and  dragged  off  to  jail.  After 
three  months  he  was  brought  to  trial  before  the 
Court  of  Assistants.  The  magistrates  debated  for 
more  than  a  fortnight  as  to  what  should  be  done. 
The  air  was  thick  with  mutterings  of  insurrection, 
and  they  had  lost  all  heart  for  their  dreadful 
work.  Not  so  the  savage  old  man  who  presided, 
frowning  gloomily  under  his  black  skull  cap. 
Losing  his  patience  at  last,  Endicott  smote  the 
table  with  fury,  upbraided  the  judges  for  their 
weakness,  and  declared  himseK  so  disgusted  that 
he  was  ready  to  go  back  to  England.^  "  You  that 
will  not  consent,  record  it,"  he  shouted,  as  the 
question  was  again  put  to  vote,  "  I  thank  God  I 
am  not  afraid  to  give  judgment."  Christison  was 
condemned  to  death,  but  the  sentence  was  never 
executed.  In  the  interval  the  legislature  assem- 
bled, and  the  law  was  modified.  The  martyrs  had 
not  died  in  vain.  Their  cause  was  victorious.  A 
revolution  had  been  effected.  The  Puritan  ideal 
of  a  commonwealth  composed  of  a  united  body  of 
believers  was  broken  down,  never  again  to  be  re- 
stored. The  principle  had  been  admitted  that  the 
heretic  might  come  to  Massachusetts  and  stay 
there. 

It  was  not  in  a  moment,  however,  that  these  re- 
sults were  fully  realized.  For  some  years  longer 
Quakers  were  fined,  imprisoned,  and  now  and  then 
tied  to  the  cart's  tail  and  whipped  from  one  town 
to  another.  But  these  acts  of  persecution  came  to 
be  more  and  more  discountenanced  by  public  opin- 
ion until  at  length  they  ceased. 

^  See  my  remarkB  above,  p.  145. 


THE  NEW  ENGLAND  CONFEDERACY.     191 

It  was  on  the  25th  of  May,  1660,  just  one  week 
before  the  martyrdom  of  Mary  Dyer,  that  Charles 
II.  returned  to  England  to  occupy  his  father's 
throne.  One  of  the  first  papers  laid  before  him 
was  a  memorial  in  behalf  of  the  op- 
pressed Quakers  in  New  England.  In  J^l,^^'* 
the  course  of  the  following  year  he  sent 
a  letter  to  Endicott  and  the  other  New  England 
governors,  ordering  them  to  suspend  proceedings 
against  the  Quakers,  and  if  any  were  then  in  prison, 
to  send  them  to  England  for  trial.  Christison's 
victory  had  already  been  won,  but  the  "  King's 
Missive  "  was  now  partially  obeyed  by  the  release 
of  all  prisoners.  As  for  sending  anybody  to  Eng- 
land for  trial,  that  was  something  that  no  New 
England  government  could  ever  be  made  to  allow. 

Charles's  defence  of  the  Quakers  was  due,  neither 
to  liberality  of  disposition  nor  to  any  sympathy 
with  them,  but  rather  to  his  inclinations  toward 
Romanism.  Unlike  in  other  respects,  Quakers  and 
Catholics  were  alike  in  this,  that  they  were  the 
only  sects  which  the  Protestant  world  in  general 
agreed  in  excluding  from  toleration.  .,^  chariw 
Charles  wished  to  secure  toleration  for  "•  interfered 

to  protect  th€- 

Catholics,  and  he  could  not  prudently  Q"*^*"- 
take  steps  toward  this  end  without  pursuing  a 
policy  broad  enough  to  diminish  persecution  in 
other  directions,  and  from  these  circumstances  the 
Quakers  profited.  At  times  there  was  something 
almost  like  a  political  alliance  between  Quaker  and 
Catholic,  as  instanced  in  the  relations  between 
William  Penn  and  Charles's  brother,  the  Duke  of 
York. 


192   THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

Besides  all  this,  Charles  had  good  reason  to  fed 
that  the  governments  of  New  England  were  assum- 
ing too  many  airs  of  sovereignty.  There  were 
plenty  of  people  at  hand  to  work  upon  his  mind. 
The  friends  of  Gorton  and  Child  and  Vassall  were 
loud  with  their  complaints.  Samuel  Maverick 
swore  that  the  people  of  New  England  were  all 
rebels,  and  he  could  prove  it.  The  king  was  as- 
sured that  the  Confederacy  was  "  a  war  combina- 
tion, made  by  the  four  colonies  when  they  had  a 
design  to  throw  off  their  dependence  on  England, 
and  for  that  purpose."  The  enemies  of  the  New 
England  people,  while  dilating  upon  the  rebellious 
disposition  of  Massachusetts,  could  also  remind  the 
king  that  for  several  years  that  colony  had  been 
coining  and  circulating  shillings  and  sixpences  with 
the  name  "  Massachusetts  "  and  a  tree  on  one  side, 
and  the  name  "  New  England  "  with  the  date  on 
ihe  other.  There  was  no  recognition  of  England 
upon  this  coinage,  which  was  begun  in  1652  and 
kept  up  for  more  than  thirty  years.  Such  pieces 
of  money  used  to  be  called  "  pine-tree  shillings  " ; 
but,  so  far  as  looks  go,  the  tree  might  be  anything, 
and  an  adroit  friend  of  New  England  once  gravely 
assured  the  king  that  it  was  meant  for  the  royal 
oak  in  which  his  majesty  hid  himself  after  the 
battle  of  Worcester ! 

Against  the  colony  of  New  Haven  the  king  had 
a  special  grudge.  Two  of  the  regicide  judges,  who 
had  sat  in  the  tribunal  which  condemned  his  father, 
escaped  to  New  England  in  1660  and  were  well  re- 
ceived there.  They  were  gentlemen  of  high  posi- 
tion.    Edward  Whalley  was  a  cousin  of  Cromwell 


THE  NEW  ENGLAND  CONFEDERACY.     193 

and  Hampden.  He  had  distinguished  himself  at 
Naseby  and  Dunbar,  and  had  risen  to  the  rank  of 
lieutenant-general.  He  had  commanded  at  the 
The  regicide  capturc  of  Worccster,  where  it  is  inter- 
*""^***  esting  to  observe  that  the  royalist  com- 

mander who  surrendered  to  him  was  Sir  Henry 
Washington,  own  cousin  to  the  grandfather  of 
George  Washington.  The  other  regicide,  William 
Goflfe,  as  a  major-general  in  Cromwell's  army,  had 
won  such  distinction  that  there  were  some  who 
pointed  to  him  as  the  proper  person  to  succeed  the 
Lord  Protector  on  the  death  of  the  latter.  He  had 
married  Whalley's  daughter.  Soon  after  the  ar- 
rival of  these  gentlemen,  a  royal  order  for  their 
arrest  was  sent  to  Boston.  If  they  had  been  ar- 
rested and  sent  back  to  England,  their  severed 
heads  would  soon  have  been  placed  over  Temple 
Bar.  The  king's  detectives  hotly  pursued  them 
through  the  woodland  paths  of  New  England,  and 
they  would  soon  have  been  taken  but  for  the  aid 
they  got  from  the  people.  Many  are  the  stories  of 
their  hairbreadth  escapes.  Sometimes  they  took 
refuge  in  a  cave  on  a  mountain  near  New  Haven, 
sometimes  they  hid  in  friendly  cellars ;  and  once, 
being  hard  put  to  it,  they  skulked  under  a  wooden 
bridge,  while  their  pursuers  on  horseback  galloped 
by  overhead.  After  lurking  about  New  Haven 
and  Milford  for  two  or  three  years,  on  hearing  of 
the  expected  arrival  of  Colonel  Nichols  and  his 
commission,  they  sought  a  more  secluded  hiding- 
place  near  Hadley,  a  village  lately  settled  far  up 
the  Connecticut  river,  within  the  jurisdiction  of 
Massachusetts.     Here  the  avengers  lost  the  trailf 


194     THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

the  pursuit  was  abandoned,  and  the  weary  regi- 
cides were  presently  forgotten.  The  people  of 
New  Haven  had  been  especially  zealous  in  shield- 
ing the  fugitives.  Mr.  Davenport  had  not  only 
harboured  them  in  his  own  house,  but  on  the  Sab- 
bath before  their  expected  arrival  he  had  preached 
a  very  bold  sermon,  openly  advising  his  people  to 
aid  and  comfort  them  as  far  as  possible.^  The 
colony,  moreover,  did  not  officially  recognize  the 
restoration  of  Charles  II.  to  the  throne  until  that 
event  had  been  conunonly  known  in  New  England 
for  more  than  a  year.  For  these  reasons  the  wrath 
of  the  king  was  specially  roused  against  New 
Haven,  when  circimistances  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  Massachusetts,   but  Connecticut   had 

^  The  daring  passage  in  the  sermon  is  thus  given  in  Bacon's 
Historical  Discourses,  New  Haven,  1838:  "Withhold  not  coun- 
tenance, entertainment,  and  protection  from  the  people  of  God  — 
■whom  men  may  call  fools  and  fanatics  —  if  any  such  come  to  you 
from  other  countries,  as  from  France  or  England,  or  any  other 
place.  Be  not  forgetful  to  entertain  strangers.  Remember  those 
that  are  in  bonds,  as  bound  with  them.  The  Lord  required  thia 
of  Moab,  saying,  '  Make  thy  shadow  as  the  night  in  tlie  midst  of 
the  noonday ;  hide  the  outcasts  ;  bewray  not  him  that  wandereth. 
Let  mine  outcasts  dwell  with  thee,  Moab ;  be  thou  a  covert  to 
liiem  from  the  face  of  the  spoiler.'  Is  it  objected  — '  But  so  I 
may  expose  myself  to  be  spoiled  or  troubled '  ?  He,  therefore,  to 
remove  this  objection,  addeth,  '  For  the  extortioner  is  at  an  end, 
the  spoiler  ceaseth,  the  oppressors  are  consumed  out  of  the  land.' 
While  we  are  attending  to  our  duty  in  owning  and  harbouring 
Christ's  witnesses,  God  will  be  providing  for  their  and  our 
■afety,  by  destroying  tbos«  that  would  destroy  his  people." 


THE  NEW  ENGLAND  CONFEDERACY.     195 

not ;  and  at  this  time  there  was  warm  controversy 

between   the   two  younger  colonies   as 

to  the  wisdom  of  such  a  policy.     As  annexed  u?" 

»    ,1  1        .  -sr  Connecticut. 

yet  none  of  the  colonies  save  Massa- 
chusetts had  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  restoration  of 
Charles  II.  ;  and  in  August,  1661,  she  dispatched 
the  younger  Winthrop  to  England  to  apply  for  a 
charter.  Winthrop  was  a  man  of  winning  address 
and  of  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  soon  chosen  a  fellow.  In 
every  way  the  occasion  was  an  auspicious  one. 
The  king  looked  upon  the  rise  of  the  New  England 
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  privileges 
as  might  awaken  her  jealousy.  All  the  more 
would  such  a  policy  be  likely  to  succeed  if  accom- 
panied by  measures  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  liberality  was  at  once  granted  to  Connecti- 
cut, 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  env 


196    THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

phasize  the  motives  which  had  led  to  this  display 
of  royal  favour  toward  Connecticut,  an  equally 
liberal  charter  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  Nichols,  who 
had  been  appointed,  along  with  Samuel  Maverick 
and  two  others  as  royal  commissioners,  to  look 
after  the  affairs  of  the  New  World.  Colonel 
Nichols  took  his  ships  to  New  Amsterdam,  and  cap- 
tured that  important  town.  After  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.  Pres- 
ently the  Dutch  made  war  upon  England,  and  the 
king  felt  it  to  be  unwise  to  irritate  the  people  of 
Massachusetts  beyond  endurance.  The  turbulent 
state  of  English  politics  which  followed  still  further 
absorbed  his  attention,  and  New  England  had  an' 
other  respite  of  several  years. 

In  New  Haven  a  party  had  grown  up  which  was 
dissatisfied  with  its  extreme  theocratic  policy  and 
approved  of  the  union  with  Connecticut.  Daven- 
port 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 
Rev.  Abraham  Pierson,  of  Branford,  migrated  to 
_     ,.     ,     the  banks  of  the  Passaic  in  June,  1667, 

Founding  oi  '  ' 

Newark.  ^mj   j^j^   ^jjg  foundations   of   Newark. 

For  some  years  to  come  the  theocratic  idea  that 


THE  NEW  ENGLAND  CONFEDERACY.     197 

had  given  birth  to  New  Haven  continued  to  live 
on  in  New  Jersey.  As  for  Mr.  Davenport,  he 
went  to  Boston  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  Davenport : 
**  Yet,  after  all,  the  Lord  gave  him  to  see  that  in 
this  world  a  Church-State  was  impossible,  where- 
into  there  enters  nothing  which  defiles." 

The  theocratic  policy,  alike  in  New  Haven  and 
in  Massachusetts,  broke  down  largely  through  its 
inherent  weakness.  It  divided  the  community, 
and  created  among  the  people  a  party  Breaking 
adverse  to  its  arrogance  and  exclusive-  fhe^r^tic'** 
ness.  This  state  of  things  facilitated  ^""y* 
the  suppression  of  New  Haven  by  royal  edict,  and 
it  made  possible  the  victory  of  Wenlock  Christison 
in  Massachusetts.  We  can  now  see  the  funda- 
mental explanation  of  the  deadly  hostility  with 
which  Endicott  and  his  party  regarded  the  Qua- 
kers. 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  citi- 
zens, or  even  as  tolerated  sojourners,  and  there 
was  an  end  of  the  theocratic  state  consisting  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  1629-1G40,  dur- 
ing which  Charles  I.  contrived  to  reign  without  a 


198     THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

parliament,  so  the  prosperous  period  of  the  New 
England  Confederacy,  1643-1664,  cov- 

Weakening  of  ''  .  p      ,>,..•,    -iir  \     i 

the  confeder-  ers  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  im- 
paired. 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  concentration  of  the  mili- 
tary 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,  until  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  Eevolution. 


CHAPTER  V. 

KING  Philip's  wab. 

For  eight-and-thirty  years  after  the  destruction 
of  the  Pequots,  the  intercourse  between  the  Eng- 
lish and  the  Indians  was  to  all  outward  appear- 
ance 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  puritans  and 
been  generally  just  and  kind.  Except  i^^ians. 
in  the  single  case  of  the  conquered  Pequot  terri- 
tory, they  scrupulously  paid  for  every  rood  of 
ground  on  which  they  settled,  and  so  far  as  possi- 
ble they  extended  to  the  Indians  the  protection  of 
the  law.  On  these  points  we  have  the  explicit 
testimony  of  Josiah  Winslow,  governor  of  Plym- 
outh, 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  colo- 
nies. 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  pre* 


200    THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

vailed  with  to  part  with  their  lands,  we  first  made 
a  law  that  none  should  purchase  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  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  fur-covered  animal  the  red  men 
Trade  with  could  catch  ;  and  where  the  trade  thus 
the  Indians,  arising  did  uot  sufficc  to  kccp  off  fam- 
ine,  instances  of  generous  charity  were  frequent. 
The  Algonquin  tribes  of  New  England  lived 
chiefly  by  hunting,  but  partly  by  agi-iculture. 
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  English  vege- 
tables, while  from  dogs  and  horses,  pigs  and  poul- 
try, oxen  and  sheep,  little  as  they  could  avail 
themselves  of  such  useful  animals,  they  neverthe- 


KING  PHILIP'S  WAR,  201 

less  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  diligent  effort  to  convert 
them  to  Christianity  and  give  them  the  rudiments 
of   a   civilized   education.      Missionary  „.  . 

•'      Missionary 

work  was  becrun  in  1643  by  Thomas  work:Thomaa 
Mayhew  on  the  islands  of  Nantucket 
and  Martha's  Vineyard.  The  savages  at  first  de- 
clared 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  persuading  them  that  the  Deity  of  the  white  man 
was  miffhtier  than  all  their  manitous.  Whether 
they  ever  got  much  farther  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  en- 
acted that  the  elders  of  the  churches  should  choose 
two  persons  each  year  to  go  and  spread  the  gospel 
among  the  Indians.  In  1649  Parliament  estab- 
lished the  Society  for  propagating  the  Gospel  in 
New  England,  and  presently  from  voluntary  con* 

1  Palfrey,  History  of  New  England,  iiL  13&-140. 


202    THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

tributions  the  society  was  able  to  dispose  of  an 
annual  income  of  X2000.  Schools  were  set  up  in 
which  agriculture  was  taught  as  well  as  religion. 
It  was  even  intended  that  Indians  should  go  to 
Harvard  College,  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  after- 
ward succeeded  in  climbing  to  the  bachelor's  de- 
gree,—  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  1631,  and  in  the  following  year 
had  been  settled  as  teacher  in  the  church  at  Rox- 
bury  of  which  Thomas  Welde  was  pastor.  He  had 
been  distinguished  at  the  university  for  philolog- 
ical scholarship  and  for  linguistic  talent  —  two 
things  not  always  found  in  connection  —  and  now 
during  fourteen  years  he  devoted  such  time  as  he 
could  to  acquiring  a  complete  mastery  of  the  Al- 
gonquin dialect  spoken  by  the  Indians  of  Massa- 
chusetts bay.  Tq  the  modern  comparative  philolo- 
gist his  work  is  of  great  value.  He  published  not 
only  an  excellent  Indian  grammar,  but  a  complete 
translation  of  the  Bible  into  the  Massachusetts 
language,  — a  monument  of  prodigious  labour.     It 


KING  PHILIP'S  WAR.  208 

is  one  of  the  most  instructive  documents  in  exist- 
ence 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  prL 
vate  libraries  commands  an  extremely  high  price, 
Yet  out  of  this  rare  book  the  American  public  hat 
somehow  or  other  within  the  last  five  or  six  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  "  mug- 
wump." 

It  was  in  1646  that  Eliot  began  his  missionary 
j/reaching  at  a  small  Indian  village  near  Water- 
town.  President  Dunster,  of  Harvard  College, 
and  Mr.  Shepard,  the  minister  at  Cambridge,  felt 
a  warm  interest  in  the  undertaking.  These  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  devoto 
himself  to  the  difficult  work  of  reaching  the  Indi- 
an's scanty  intelligence  and  still  scantier  moral 
sense.  His  ministrt.tions  reached  from  the  sands 
of  Cape  Cod  to  the  rocky  hillsides  of  Brookfield. 
But  he  soon  found  that  single-handed  he  could 
achieve  but  little  over  so  wide  an  area, 

Til  T  11  !•  VillaK«8  of 

and  accordingly  he  adopted  the  policy  christiau  in. 
of   colonizing    his   converts   in   village 
eommunities  near  the  English  towns,  where  they 


204    THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

might  be  sequestered  from  their  heathen  brethren 
and  subjected  to  none  but  Christian  influences.  In 
these  communities  he  hoped  to  train  up  native  mis- 
sionaries who  might  thence  go  and  labour  among 
the  wild  tribes  until  the  whole  lump  of  barbarism 
should  be  leavenedo  In  pursuance  of  this  scheme 
a  stockaded  village  was  built  at  Natick  in  1651. 
Under  the  direction  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  villages, 
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  w^re  really 
benefited  both  materially  and  morally  by  the 
change  in  their  life.  In  theology  it  is  not  likely 
that  they  reached  any  higher  view  than  that  ex- 
pressed by  the  Connecticut  sachem  Wequash  who 
"seeing  and  beholding  the  mighty  power  of  God 
in  the  English  forces,  how  they  fell  upon  the  Pe 
quots,  .  .  .  from  that  time  was  convinced  and  per- 
suaded that  our  God  was  a  most  dreadful  God  ;  '* 
accordingly,  says  the  autlior  of  "  New  England's 
First  Fruits,"  "  he  became  thoroughly  reformed 
according  to  his  light."  Matters  of  outward  observ- 
ance, too,  the  Indians  could  understand  ;  for  we 
read  of  one  of  them  rebuking  an  Englishman  "  for 


KING  PHILIP'S  WAR.  205 

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  per- 
haps do  not  extend  much  further. 

From  such  facts  as  those  above  cited  we  may  in- 
fer 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 
frontiersman'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  sometimes 
hear  the  justice  and  kindness  of  the  Quakers  in 
Pennsylvania  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  century.  Early  in  that 
century  the  Pennsylvania  region  had  been  in  the 
hands  of  the  ferocious  and  powerful 
Susquehannocks,  but  in  1672,  after  a  vanfaw^» 
frightful  struggle  of  twenty  years,  this  le^ted  by  th* 
great  tribe  was  swept  from  the  face  of 
the  earth  by  the  resistless  league  of  the  Five  N»« 


206    THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

tions.  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  Delawares  as  occupants 
of  the  land  and  also  with  the  Iroquois  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  un- 
shaken friendship  of  the  Iroquois  for  the  English. 
This  was  the  natural  consequence  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  intervened  between  the  founding  of  Pennsyl- 
vania and  the  defeat  of  Braddock  there  was  never 
a  moment  when  the  Delawares  could  liave  attacked 
the  Quakers  without  incurring  the  wrath  and  ven- 
geance of  their  overlords  the  Five  Nations.  This 
was  the  reason  why  Pennsylvania  was  left  so  long 
in  quiet.  No  better  proof  could  be  desired  than 
the  fact  that  in  Pontiac's  war,  after  the  overthrow 
of  the  French  and  when  Indian  politics  had 
changed,  no  state  suffered  so  much  as  Pennsylvania 
from  the  horrors  of  Indian  warfare. 

In  New  England  at  the  time  of  Philip's  War, 
the  situation  was  very  different  from  what  it  was 
between  the  Hudson  and  the  Susquehanna.  The 
settlers  were  thrown  into  immediate  relations  with 
eeveral  tribes  whose  mutual  hostility  and   rivalry 

Ve  Parkman,  Conspiracy  of  Pontiac,  i.  80-85. 


KING  PHILIP'S  WAR.  207 

was  such  that  it  was  simply  impossible  to  keep  on 
goocl  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  the  foremost  place 
among  New  England  tribes.  Of  the  two  rivals 
the  Mohegans  were  the  weaker,  and  therefore 
courted  the  friendship  of  the  formidable  pale- 
faces. The  English  had  no  desire  to  take  part  in 
these  barbarous  feuds,  but  they  could 
not  treat  the  Mohegans  well  without  in-  J^'fa7tuition 
curring  the  hostility  of  the  Narragan-  ll'nd*"'^'** 
setts.  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  Mian- 
tonomo 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  terror,  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  pro- 
tectorate over  the  native  tribes,  wliich  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  utter  abs«inc(^  of  provo* 


208  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

cation,  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  ia 
thinking  about.  When  Mr.  Hamilton  Gushing  a 
few  years  ago  took  some  of  his  Zuni  friends  into 
It  i  h  d  f  ^  hotel  in  Chicago,  they  marvelled  at 
the  savage  and  his  entering  such  a  mighty  palace  with 

the  civilized  o  o      J   r 

man  to  under-  go  little  ceremouv,  and  their  wonder  waa 

stand  one  an-  •'  ' 

other.  heightened  at  the  promptness  vAi\\  which 

"  slaves  "  came  running  at  his  beck  and  call ;  but 
all  at  once,  on  seeing  an  American  eagle  over  one 
of  the  doorways,  they  felt  that  the  mystery  was 
solved.  Evidently  this  palace  was  the  commimal 
dwelling  of  the  Eagle  Clan  of  palefaces,  and  evi- 
dently Mr.  Cushing  was  a  great  sachem  of  this 
clan,  and  as  such  entitled  to  lordly  sway  there! 
The  Zunis  are  not  savages,  but  representatives  of  a 
remote  and  primitive  phase  of  what  Mr.  Morgan 
calls  the  middle  status  of  barbarism.  The  gulf  be- 
tween their  thinking  and  that  of  white  men  is  wide 
because  there  is  a  wide  gulf  between  the  experi- 
ence 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  In- 
dians could  hardly  be  expected  to  see  anything  in 
it    but   a   cunning   scheme    for   destroying   them. 


KING  PHILIP'S  WAR.  209 

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  Wam- 
panoags.  The  more  powerful  tribes  —  Narragan- 
setts,  Nipmucks,  and  Mohegans  —  furnished  very 
few  converts.  When  they  saw  the  white  intruders 
gathering  members  of  the  weakest  tribes  into  vil- 
lages of  English  type,  and  teaching  them  strange 
gods  while  clothing  them  in  strange  garments, 
they  probably  supposed  that  the  pale-  , 
faces   were  simply  adopting   these  In-  signs  mUun- 

1     .  ,  .  .1  derstood. 

dians  mto  their  white  tribe  as  a  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  savage  ex- 
perience could  atford.  It  is  one  of  the  commonest 
things  in  the  world  for  a  savage  tribe  to  absorb 
weak  neighbours  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  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  ser- 
vants. A  rebuke  administered  to  Eliot  by  Uncas 
in   1674   has   a  similar   implication.     When   the 


210     THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

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  Mohe- 
gan  river  to  call  kis  Indians  to  pray  to  God."  ^ 

Thus,  no  matter  how  benevolent  the  white  man's 

intentions,  he  could  not  fail  to  be  dreaded  by  the 

Indians  as  a  powerful  and  ever  encroaching  enemy. 

Even  in  his  efforts  to  keep  the  peace 

It  is  remark-  •^  i-  i   •  i 

able  that  peace  and  prevent  tribes  from  taking  the  war- 

Bhoiild  have  i         •   i  i  •  •      •  i 

been  so  long  path  Wlthout  hlS  pcmilSSlOn,  he  was  in- 
preserved.  -      .  . 

terfering  with  the  red  man's  cherished 
pastime  of  murder  and  pillage.  The  appeals  to 
the  court  at  Plymouth,  the  frequent  summoning 
of  sachems  to  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  wliich  the  savage 
has  in  common  with  the  most  progressive  races, 
and  that  is  the  love  of  self-government  that  resents 
all  outside  interference.  All  things  considered,  it 
Is  remarkable  that  peace  should  have  been  main- 
tained 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,  tlieir  fear  of  the  English  grew  less,  until  at 
length  their  ferocious  temper  broke  forth  in  an 
*  De  Forest,  History  of  the  Indians  of  Connecticut,  pp.  252,  257* 


KING  PHILIP'S  WAR.  211 

epidemic  of  fire  and  slaughter  that  laid  waste  the 
laud. 

Massasoit,  chief  sachem  of  the  Wampanoags  and 
steadfast  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  father's  posi- 
tion of  savage  diernity  and  influence,  but 

1  •  .  1      •    p         -r.  DtMiB  ot 

his  reiSTl  was  brief.       KumOUrS    came    to    Massasoit  and 

...  Alexander. 

Plymouth  that  he  was  plotting  mischief, 
and  he  was  accordingly  summoned  to  appear  be- 
fore the  General  Court  of  that  colony  and  explain 
himself.  He  seems  to  have  gone  reluctantly,  but 
he  succeeded  in  satisfying  the  magistrates  of  his 
innocence  of  any  evil  designs.  Whether  he  caught 
cold  at  Plymouth  or  drank  rum  as  only  Indians 
can,  we  do  not  know.  At  any  rate,  on  starting 
homeward,  before  he  had  got  clear  of  English  ter- 
ritory, he  was  seized  by  a  violent  fever  and  died. 
The  savage  mind  knows  nothing  of  pneumonia  or 
delirium  tremens.  It  knows  nothing  of  what  we 
call  natural  death.  To  the  savage  all  death  means 
murder,  for  like  other  men  he  judges  of  the  un- 
known by  the  known.  In  the  Indian's  experience 
normal  death  was  by  tomahawk  or  firebrand ;  ab- 
normal death  (such  as  we  call  natural)  must  come 
either  from  poison  or  from  witchcraft.  So  when 
the  honest  chronicler  Hubbard  tells  us  that  Philip 
suspected  the  Plymouth  people  of  poisoning  his 
brother,  we  can  easily  believe  him.  It  was  long, 
however,  before  he  was  ready  to  taste  the  sweets  of 
revenge.  He  schemed  and  plotted  in  the  dark. 
In  one  respect  the  Indian  diplomatist  is  unlike 


212    THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

his  white  brethren  ;  he  does  not  leave  state-papers 
PhiUp'sde-  behind  him  to  reward  the  diligence  and 
***°*'  gratify   the   curiosity  of   later   genera- 

tions ;  and  accordingly  it  is  hard  to  tell  how  far 
Philip  was  personally  responsible  for  the  storm 
which  was  presently  to  burst  upon  New  England. 
Whether  his  scheme  was  as  comprehensive  as  that 
of  Pontiac  in  1763,  whether  or  not  it  amounted  to 
a  deliberate  combination  of  all  red  men  within 
reach  to  exterminate  the  white  men,  one  can 
hardly  say  with  confidence.  The  figure  of  Philip, 
in  the  war  which  bears  his  name,  does  not  stand 
out  so  prominently  as  the  figure  of  Pontiac  in  the 
later  struggle.  This  may  be  partly  because  Pon- 
tiac's  story  has  been  told  by  such  a  magician  as 
Mr.  Francis  Parkman.  But  it  is  partly  because 
the  data  are  too  meagre.  In  all  probability,  how- 
ever, the  schemes  of  Sassacus  the  Pequot,  of  Philip 
the  Wampanoag,  and  of  Pontiac  the  Ottawa,  were 
substantially  the  same.  That  Philip  plotted  with 
the  Narragansetts  seems  certain,  and  the  early 
events  of  the  war  point  clearly  to  a  previous  un- 
derstanding with  the  Nipmucks.  The  Mohegans, 
on  the  other  hand,  gave  him  no  assistance,  but 
remained  faithful  to  their  white  allies. 

For  thirteen  years  had  Philip  been  chief  sachem 
of  his  tribe  before  the  crisis  came.  Rumours  of 
his  unfriendly  disposition  had  at  intervals  found 
their  way  to  the  ears  of  the  magistrates  at  Plym- 
outh, but  Philip  had  succeeded  in  setting  himself 
right  before  them.  In  1670  the  rumours  were 
renewed,  and  the  Plymouth  men  felt  that  it  was 
time  to  strike,  but  the  other  colonies  held  them 


KING  PHILIP'S  WAR.  218 

back,  and  a  meeting  was  arranged  between  Philip 
and  three  Boston  men  at  Taunton  in  Meeting  »t 
April,  Ign.  There  the  crafty  savage  ^""**° 
expressed  humility  and  contrition  for  all  past 
offences,  and  even  consented  to  a  treaty  in  which 
he  promised  that  his  tribe  should  surrender  all 
their  fire-arms.  On  the  part  of  the  English  this 
was  an  extremely  unwise  measure,  for  while  it 
could  not  possibly  be  enforced,  and  while  it  must 
have  greatly  increased  the  irritation  of  the  Indians, 
it  was  at  the  same  time  interpretable  as  a  symptom 
of  fear.  With  ominous  scowls  and  grunts  some 
seventy  muskets  were  given  up,  but  this  was  all. 
Through  the  summer  there  was  much  uneasiness, 
and  in  September  Philip  was  summoned  to  Plym- 
outh with  five  of  his  under-sachems,  and  solemnly 
warned  to  keep  the  peace.  The  savages  again  be- 
haved with  humility  and  agreed  to  pay  a  yearly 
tribute  of  five  wolves'  heads  and  to  do  no  act  of 
war  without  express  permission. 

For  three  ye^js  things  seemed  quiet,  until  late 
in  l^j[4  the  alarm  was  again  sounded.  Sausamon, 
a  convert  from  the  Massachusetts  tribe,  had  studied 
a  little  at  Harvard  College,  and  could  speak  and 
write  English  with  facility.  He  had  at  one  time 
been  employed  by  Philip  as  a  sort  of  private  secre- 
tary or  messenger,  and  at  other  times  had  preached 
and  taught  school  among  the  Indian  converts  at 
Natick.  Sausamon  now  came  to  Plymouth  and 
informed  Governor  Winslow  that  Philip  was  cer- 
tainly engaged  in  a  conspiracy  that  boded  no  good 
to  the  English.  Somehow  or  other  Philip  con- 
trived to  find  out  what  Sausamon  had  said,  and 


4 


U,*C^ 


214    THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

presently  coming  to  Plymouth  loudly  asseverated 
his  innocence ;  but  the  magistrates  warned  him 
that  if  they  heard  any  more  of  this  sort  of  thing 
Murder  of  ^^^  arms  would  surely  be  seized.  A  few 
Sausamon.  ^^^^  after  Philip  had  gone  home,  Sausa- 
mon's  hat  and  gun  were  seen  lying  on  the  frozen 
surface  of  Assowamsett  Pond,  near  Middleborough, 
and  on  cutting  through  the  ice  his  body  was  found 
with  unmistakable  marks  of  beating  and  stran- 
gling. After  some  months  the  crime  was  traced  to 
three  Wampanoags,  who  were  forthwith  arrested, 
tried  by  a  mixed  jury  of  Indians  and  white  men, 
found  guilty,  and  put  to  death.  On  the  way  to 
the  gallows  one  of  them  confessed  that  he  had 
stood  by  while  his  two  friends  had  pounded  and 
choked  the  unfortunate  Sausamon. 

More  alarming  reports  now  came  from  Swanzey, 
a  pretty  village  of  some  forty  houses  not  far  from 
Philip's  headquarters  at  Mount  Hope.  On  Sun- 
day June  20,  while  everybody  was  at  church,  a 
party  of  Indians  had  stolen  into  the  town  and  set 
fire  to  two  houses.  Messengers  were  hurried  from 
Plymouth  and  from  Boston,  to  demand  the  culprits 
under  penalty  of  instant  war.  As  they  approached 
Maseacresat  Swanzcy  the  mcu  from  Boston  saw  a 
&mouuf  sight  that  filled  them  with  horror.  The 
June,  16(5.  road  was  strewn  with  corpses  of  men, 
women,  and  children,  scorched,  dismembered,  and 
mangled  with  that  devilish  art  of  which  the 
American  Indian  is  the  most  finished  master. 
The  savages  had  sacked  the  village  the  day  be- 
fore, burning  the  houses  and  slaying  the  people. 
Within  three  days  a  small  force  of  colonial  troops 


KING  PHILIP'S  WAR.  216 

had  driven  Philip  from  his  position  at  Mount 
Hope ;  but  while  they  were  doing  this  a  party  of 
savages  swooped  upon  Dartmouth,  burning  thirty 
houses  and  committing  fearful  atrocities.  Some 
of  their  victims  were  flayed  alive,  or  impaled  on 
sharp  stakes,  or  roasted  over  slow  fires.  Similar 
horrors  were  wrought  at  Middleborough  and  Taun- 
ton ;  and  now  the  misery  spread  to  Massachusetts, 
where  on  the  14th  of  July  the  town  of  Mendon  was 
attacked  by  a  party  of  Nipmucks. 

At  that  time  the  beautiful  highlands  between 
Lancaster  and  the  Connecticut  river  were  still  an 
untrodden  wilderness.  On  their  southern  slope 
Worcester  and  Brookfield  were  tiny  hamlets  of  a 
dozen  houses  each.  Up  the  Connecticut  valley  a 
line  of  little  villages,  from  Springfield  to  North- 
field,  formed  the  remotest  frontier  of  the  English, 
and  their  exposed  position  offered  tempting  oppor- 
tunities to  the  Indians.  Governor  Leverett  saw 
how  great  the  danger  would  be  if  the  other  tribes 
should  follow  the  example  set  by  Philip,  and  Cap- 
tain  Edward   Hutchinson  was   accord- 

.  Murder  of 

ingly  sent   to   Brookfield    to   negotiate  captain 

•   1         1         XT'  m    •  /v>  Hutchinson. 

With  the  Nipmucks.  This  officer  was 
eldest  son  of  the  unfortunate  lady  whose  preaching 
in  Boston  nearly  forty  years  before  had  been  the 
occasion  of  so  much  strife.  Not  only  his  mother, 
but  all  save  one  or  two  of  his  brothers  and  sisters 
—  and  there  were  not  less  than  twelve  of  them  — • 
had  been  murdered  by  Indians  on  the  New  Nether- 
land  border  in  1643 ;  now  the  same  cruel  fate  over- 
took the  gallant  captain.  The  savages  agreed  to 
hold  a  parley  and  appointed  a  time  and  place  for 


216    THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

the  purpose,  but  instead  of  keeping  tryst  they  lay 
in  ambush  and  slew  Hutchinson  with  eight  of  his 
men  on  their  way  to  the  conference. 

Three  days  afterward  Philip,  who  had  found 
home  too  hot  for  him,  arrived  in  the  Nipmuck 
country,  and  on  the  night  of  August  2,  took  part 
in  a  fierce  assault  on  Brookfield.  Thirty  or  forty 
men,  with  some  fifty  women  and  children  —  all 
.  .^  .  the  inhabitants   of   the  hamlet  —  took 

AttacK  on 

Brookfield.  rcfugc  in  a  large  house,  where  they  were 
besieged  by  300  savages  whose  bullets  pierced  the 
wooden  walls  again  and  again.  Arrows  tipped 
with  burning  rags  were  shot  into  the  air  in  such 
wise  as  to  fall  upon  the  roof,  but  they  who  crouched 
in  the  garret  were  watchful  and  well  supplied  with 
water,  while  from  the  overhanging  windows  the 
volleys  of  musketry  were  so  brisk  and  steady  that 
the  screaming  savages  below  could  not  get  near 
enough  to  the  house  to  set  it  on  fire.  For  three 
days  the  fight  was  kept  up,  while  every  other  house 
in  the  village  was  destroyed.  By  this  time  the  In- 
dians had  contrived  to  mount  some  planks  on  bar- 
rels so  as  to  make  a  kind  of  rude  cart  which  they 
loaded  with  tow  and  chips.  They  were  just  about 
setting  it  on  fire  and  preparing  to  push  it  against 
the  house  with  long  poles,  when  thoy  were  sud- 
denly foiled  by  a  heavy  shower.  That  noon  the 
gallant  Simon  Willard,  ancestor  of  two  presidents 
of  Harvard  College,  a  man  who  had  done  so  much 
toward  building  up  Concord  and  Lancaster  that  he 
was  known  as  the  "  founder  of  towns,"  was  on  his 
way  from  Lancaster  to  Groton  at  the  head  of 
forty-seven  horsemen,  when  he  was  overtaken  by  a 


KING  PHILIP'S  WAR.  217 

courier  with  the  news  from  Brookfield.  The  dis. 
tance  was  thirty  miles,  the  road  scarcely  fit  to  be 
called  a  bridle-path,  and  Willard's  years  were  more 
than  threescore-and-ten  ;  but  by  an  hour  after  sun- 
set he  had  gallopped  into  Brookfield  and  routed 
the  Indians  who  fled  to  a  swamp  ten  miles  distant. 
The  scene  is  now  shifted  to  the  Connecticut  val- 
ley, where  on  the  25th  of  August  Captain  Lothrop 
defeated  the  savages  at  Hatfield.  On  the  1st  of 
September  simultaneous  attacks  were  made  upon 
Deerfield  and  Hadley,  and  among  the  traditions  of 
the  latter  place  is  one  of  the  most  interesting  of 
the  stories  of  that  early  time.  The  inhabitants 
were  all  in  church  keeping  a  fast,  when  the  yells 
of  the  Indians  resounded.  Seizing  their 
guns,  the  men  rushed  out  to  meet  the  ous  stranger 
foe  ;  but  seeing  the  village  green  swarm-  *  *^' 
ing  on  every  side  with  the  horrid  savages,  for  a 
moment  their  courage  gave  way  and  a  panic  was 
imminent ;  when  all  at  once  a  stranger  of  reverend 
aspect  and  stately  form,  with  white  beard  flowing 
on  his  bosom,  appeared  among  them  and  took 
command  with  an  air  of  authority  which  none 
could  gainsay.  He  bade  them  charge  on  the 
screeching  rabble,  and  after  a  short  sharp  skir- 
mish the  tawny  foe  was  put  to  flight.  When  the 
pursuers  came  together  again,  after  the  excitement 
of  the  rout,  their  deliverer  was  not  to  be  found. 
In  their  wonder,  as  they  knew  not  whence  he  came 
or  whither  he  had  gone,  many  were  heard  to  say 
that  an  angel  had  been  sent  from  heaven  for  their 
deliverance.  It  was  the  regicide  William  Goffe, 
who  from  his  hiding-place  had  seen  the  savages 


218    THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

stealing  down  the  hillside,  and  sallied  forth  to  win 
yet  one  more  victory  over  the  hosts  of  Midian  ere 
death  should  come  to  claim  him  in  his  woodland 
retreat.  Sir  Walter  Scott  has  put  this  pretty 
story  into  the  mouth  of  Major  Bridgenorth  in 
*'  Peveril  of  the  Peak,"  and  Cooper  has  made  use 
of  it  in  "The  Wept  of  Wish-ton-wish."  Like 
many  other  romantic  stories,  it  rests  upon  insuffi- 
cient authority  and  its  truth  has  been  called  in 
question.^  But  there  seems  to  be  nothing  intrinsi- 
cally improbable  in  the  tradition  ;  and  a  paramount 
regard  for  Goffe's  personal  safety  would  quite  ac- 

^  The  story  rests  chiefly  upon  the  statements  of  Hutchinson, 
an  extremely  careful  and  judicious  writer,  and  not  in  the  least 
what  the  French  call  a  gobemouche.  Goffe  kept  a  diary  which 
came  into  Hutchinson's  possession,  and  was  one  of  the  priceless 
manuscripts  that  perished  in  the  infamous  sacking  of  liis  house 
by  tlie  Boston  mob  of  August  26,  1765.  What  light  that  diary 
might  have  thrown  upon  the  matter  can  never  be  known. 
Hutchinson  was  born  in  1711,  only  thirty-six  years  after  the 
event,  so  that  his  testimony  is  not  so  very  far  removed  from  that 
of  a  contemporary.  Whalley  seems  to  have  died  in  Hadley 
shortly  before  1675,  and  Goffe  deemed  it  prudent  to  leave  that 
neighbourhood  in  1676.  His  letters  to  Increase  Mather  are  dated 
from  "Ebenezer,"  i.  e.,  wherever  in  his  roamings  he  set  up  his 
Ebenezer.  One  of  these  letters,  dated  September  8,  1676,  shows 
that  his  Ebenezer  was  then  set  up  in  Hartford,  where  probably 
he  died  about  1679.  In  1676  the  arrival  of  Edward  Randolph 
(see  below,  p.  256)  renewed  the  peril  of  the  regicide  judge,  and  his 
sudden  removal  from  his  skilfully  contrived  hiding-place  at  Had- 
ley  might  possibly  have  been  due  to  his  having  exjiosed  himself 
to  recognition  in  tlie  Indian  fight.  Possibly  even  the  super- 
natural explanation  might  have  been  started,  with  a  touch  of 
Yankee  humour,  as  a  blind.  The  silence  of  Mather  and  Hubbard 
■was  no  more  remarkable  than  some  of  the  other  ingenious  inci- 
dents which  h.ad  so  long  served  to  conceal  the  existence  of  this 
sturdy  and  crafty  man.  The  reasons  for  doubting  the  story  are 
best  stated  by  Mr.  George  Sheldon  of  Deerliuld,  in  Hist.-Genealof- 
iced  Register,  October,  1874. 


RING  PHILIP'S  WAR.  219 

count  for  the  studied  silence  of  contemporary 
writers  like  Hubbard  and  Increase  Mather. 

This  repulse  did  not  check  for  a  moment  the 
activity,  of  the  Indians,  though  for  a  long  time  we 
hear  nothing  more  of  Philip.  On  the  2d  of  Sep- 
tember they  slew  eight  men  at  Northfield  and  on 
the  4th  they  surrounded  and  butchered  Captain 
Beers  and  most  of  his  company  of  thirty-six  march* 
ing  to  the  relief  of  that  village.  The  next  day  but 
one,  as  Major  Robert  Treat  came  up  the  road  with 
his  100  Connecticut  soldiers,  they  found  long  poles 
planted  by  the  wayside  bearing  the  heads  of  their 
unfortunate  comrades.  They  in  turn  were  as- 
saulted, but  beat  off  the  enemy,  and  brought  away 
the  people  of  Northfield.  That  village  was  aban- 
doned, and  presently  Deerfield  shared 

',       f    ,  1.1  1  11     Ambuscade  at 

its  fate  and  the  people  were  crowded  Bloody  Brook, 
into  Hadley.  Yet  worse  remained  to  be  p  ""»  '  • 
seen.  A  large  quantity  of  wheat  had  been  left 
partly  threshed  at  Deerfield,  and  on  the  11th  of 
September  eighteen  wagons  were  sent  up  with 
teamsters  and  farmers  to  finish  the  threshinsr  and 
bring  in  the  grain.  They  were  escorted  by  Cap- 
tain Lothrop,  with  his  train-band  of  ninety  picked 
men,  known  as  the  "  Flower  of  Essex,"  perhaps 
the  best  drilled  company  in  the  colony.  The 
threshing  was  done,  the  wagons  were  loaded,  and 
the  party  made  a  night  march  southward.  At 
seven  in  the  morning,  as  they  were  fording  a  shal- 
low stream  in  the  shade  of  overarching  woods,  they 
were  suddenly  overwhelmed  by  the  deadly  fire  of 
700  ambushed  Nipmucks,  and  only  eight  of  them 
escaped  to  tell  the  tale.    A  '•'•  black  and  fatal "  day 


220    THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

was  this,  says  the  chronicler,  "  the  saddest  that 
ever  befell  New  England."  To  this  day  the  mem- 
ory of  the  slaughter  at  Bloody  Brook  survives,  and 
the  visitor  to  South  Deerfield  may  read  the.  inscrip- 
tion over  the  grave  in  which  Major  Treat's  men 
next  day  buried  all  the  victims  together.  The  In- 
dians now  began  to  feel  their  power,  and  on  the 
6th  of  October  they  attacked  Springfield  and 
burned  thirty  houses  there. 

Things  were  becoming  desperate.  For  ten 
weeks,  from  September  9  to  November  19,  the 
Federal  Commissioners  were  in  session  daily  in 
Boston.  The  most  eminent  of  their  number,  for 
ability  and  character,  was  the  younger  John  Win- 
throp,  who  was  still  governor  of  Connecticut. 
Plymouth  was  represented  by  its  governor,  Josiah 
Winslow,  with  the  younger  William  Bradford ; 
Massachusetts  by  William  Stoughton,  Simon 
Bradstreet,  and  Thomas  Danforth.  These  strong 
men  were  confronted  with  a  difficult  problem. 
From  Batten's  journal,  kept  during  that  disastrous 
summer,  we  learn  the  state  of  feeling 
citement^fn  iu  Bostou.  The  Puritaus  had  by  no 
means  got  rid  of  that  sense  of  corporate 
responsibility  which  civilized  man  has  inherited 
from  prehistoric  ages,  and  which  has  been  one  of 
the  principal  causes  of  religious  persecution.  This 
sombre  feeling  has  prompted  men  to  believe  that 
to  spare  the  heretic  is  to  bring  down  the  wrath  of 
God  upon  the  whole  community ;  and  now  in  Bos- 
ton many  people  stoutly  maintained  that  God  had 
let  loose  the  savages,  with  firebrand  and  tomahawk, 
to  punish  the  people  of  New  England  for  ceasing 


KING  PHILIP*S  WAR.  221 

to  persecute  "false  worshippers  and  especially 
idolatrous  Quakers."  Quaker  meetings  were  ao- 
cordingly  forbidden  under  penalty  of  fine  and  im- 
prisonment. Some  harmless  Indians  were  mur- 
dered. At  Marblehead  two  were  assaulted  and 
kiUed  by  a  crowd  of  women.  There  was  a  bitter 
feeling  toward  the  Christian  Indians,  many  of 
whom  had  joined  their  heathen  kinsmen  in  burn- 
ing and  slaying.  Daniel  Gookin,  superintendent 
of  the  "  praying  Indians,"  a  gentleman  of  the 
highest  character,  was  told  that  it  would  not  be 
safe  to  show  himself  in  the  streets  of  Boston. 
Mrs.  Mary  Pray,  of  Providence,  wrote  a  letter 
recommending  the  total  extermination  of  the  red 
men. 

The  measures  adopted  by  the  Commissioners 
certainly  went  far  toward  carrying  out  Mrs.  Pray's 
suggestion.  The  demeanour  of  the  Narragansetts 
had  become  very  threatening,  and  their  capacity 
for  mischief  exceeded  that  of  all  the  other  tribes 
together.  In  July  the  Commissioners  had  made  a 
treaty  with  them,  but  in  October  it  became  known 
in  Boston  that  they  were  harbouring  some  of 
Philip's  hostile  Indians.  When  the  Commission- 
ers sharply  called  them  to  account  for  this,  their 
sachem  Canonchet,  son  of  Miantonomo,  promised 
to  surrender  the  fugitives  within  ten  days.  But 
the  ten  days  passed  and  nothing  was  heard  from 
the  Narragansetts.  The  victory  of  their  brethren 
at  Bloody  Brook  had  worked  upon  their  minds,  so 
that  they  no  longer  thought  it  worth  while  to  keep 
faith  with  the  white  men.  They  had  overcome 
their  timidity  and  were  now  ready  to  take  part  in 


222    THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

the  work  of  massacre.^  The  Commissioners  soon 
learned  of  their  warlike  preparations  and  lost  no 
time  in  forestalling  them.  The  Narragansetts  were 
fairly  warned  that  if  they  did  not  at  once  fulfil 
their  promises  they  must  expect  the  utmost  sever- 
ities of  war.  A  thousand  men  were  enlisted  for 
this  service  and  put  under  command  of  Governor 
Winslow,  and  in  December  they  marched  against 
the  enemy.  The  redoubtable  fighter  and  lively 
chronicler  Benjamin  Church  accompanied  the  ex- 
pedition. 

The  Indians  had  fortified  themselves  on  a  piece 
of  rising  ground,  six  acres  in  extent,  in 

Expedition  •  i  n         r         i  •  i 

against  the       the  middle  ot  a  hideous  swamp  impass- 

Narragansetts.       ,  ,  ,  ,  ,      , 

able  at  most  seasons  but  now  in  some 
places  frozen  hard  enough  to  afford  a  precarious 
footing.  They  were  surrounded  by  rows  of  tall 
palisades  which  formed  a  wall  twelve  feet  in  thick- 
ness ;  and  the  only  approach  to  the  single  door  of 
this  stronghold  was  over  the  trunk  of  a  felled  tree 
some  two  feet  in  diameter  and  slippery  with  snow 
and  ice.  A  stout  block-house  filled  with  sharp- 
shooters guarded  this  rude  bridge,  which  was  raised 
some  five  feet  from  the  ground.  Within  the  pali- 
sadoed  fortress  perhaps  not  less  than  2000  war- 

^  If  Philip  was  half  the  diplomatist  that  he  is  represented  in 
tradition,  he  never  would  have  gone  into  such  a  war  without  assur- 
ance of  Narragansett  help.  Canonchet  wiis  a  far  more  powerful 
sachem  than  Philip,  and  played  a  more  conspicuous  part  in  the 
•war.  May  we  not  suppose  that  Canonchet's  desire  to  avenge  his 
father's  death  was  one  of  the  principal  incentives  to  the  war ; 
that  Philip's  attack  upon  Swanzey  was  a  premature  explosion ; 
and  that  Canonchet  then  watched  the  course  of  events  for  a  while 
before  making  up  his  mind  whetlier  to  abandon  Philip  or  support 
him? 


KING  PHILIP'S  WAR.  223 

riors,  with  many  women  and  children,  awaited  the 
onset  of  the  white  men,  for  here  had  Canonchet 
gathered  together  nearly  the  whole  of  his  available 
force.  This  was  a  military  mistake.  It  was  coop- 
ing up  his  men  for  slaughter.  They  would  have 
been  much  safer  if  scattered  about  in  the  wilder- 
ness, and  could  have  given  the  English  much  more 
trouble.  But  readily  as  they  acknowledged  the 
power  of  the  white  man,  they  did  not  yet  under- 
stand it.  One  man's  courage  is  not  another's,  and 
the  Indian  knew  little  or  nothing  of  that  Gothio 
fury  of  self-abandonment  which  rushes  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  fire- 
arms were  pitted  against  bow  and  arrow.  Many  of 
the  Narragansetts  were  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  field  at  Pettyquamscott  without 
other  blanket  than  a  "  moist  fleece  of  snow.'* 
Thence  to  the  Indian  fortress,  situated  in  what  is 
now  South  Kingston,  the  march  was  eighteen 
miles.  The  morrow  was  a  Sunday,  but  Winslow 
deemed  it  imprudent  to  wait,  as  food  had  wellnigh 
given  out.  Getting  up  at  five  o'clock,  they  toiled 
through  deep  snow  till  they  came  within  sight  of 
the  Narragansett  stronghold  early  in  the  afternoon. 
First  came  the  527  men  from  Massachusetts,  led 
by  Major  Appleton,  of  Ipswich,  and  next  the  158 
from  Plymouth,  under  Major  Bradford ;  while 
Major  Robert  Treat,  with  the  300  from  Connectir 


224    THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND- 

«ut,  brought  up  the  rear.     There  were  985  men  lo. 
all.     As  the  Massachusetts  men  rushed  upon  the 
slippery    bridge  a  deadly  volley  from  the  block- 
house slew  six  of  their  captains,  while  of 

Btonnmg  of  , 

the  great        the  rank  and  file  there  were  many  killed 

swamp  for-  XT      i  •  t  i        , 

tress,  Decern-    or   wouudcd.      isothiug   dauutcd    thev 

berl9.  -,  -  ^ 

pressed  on  with  great  spirit  till  they 
forced  their  way  into  the  enclosure,  but  then  the 
head  of  their  column,  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  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  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  treacher- 
ous 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 


KING  PHILIP'S  WAR.  225 

delivered  up  to  him  the  heathen  as  stuhble  to  his 
sword.  As  usual  the  number  of  the  slain  is  vari- 
ously estimated.  Of  the  Indians  probably  not  les* 
than  1000  perished.  Some  hundreds,  however, 
with  Canonchet  their  leader,  saved  themselves  in 
flight,  well  screened  by  the  blinding  snow-flakes 
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  blow.  Captain 
Church  advised  sparing  the  wigwams  and  using 
them  for  shelter,  but  Winslow  seems  to  have 
doubted  the  ability  of  his  men  to  maintain  them- 
selves 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  until  two  hours  after 
midnight,  when  they  reached  the  tiny  village  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  s{)oils  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 


226    THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

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 
agriculture  and  subsisting  on  the  pillage  of  Eng- 
tffect  of  the  ^^^^  farms  ;  but  the  resources  of  the  col- 
Wow.  onies,  though  severely  taxed,  were  by 

flo  means  exhausted.  The  dusky  warriors  slaugh- 
tered in  the  great  swamp  fight  could  not  be  re- 
placed ;  but,  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  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  pain- 
ful to  contemplate.  In  the  wholesale  destruction 
of  the  Pequots,  and  to  a  less  degree  in  that  of  the 
Narragan setts,  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  products  of  civilization.  Where  mur- 
derous emotions  are  frequently  excited,  it  cannot 
thrive.      Such    advance  in   humanity  as  we  have 


KING  PHILIP'S  WAR.  227 

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  con-  q^^^  <,, 
ducted  on  some  remote  frontier,  or  if  Jj,"^aJ^t 
armies  march  through  a  densely  peopled  ""'''*• 
country  the  conditions  of  modern  warfare  have 
made  it  essential  to  their  efficiency  as  military  in- 
struments 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  or  quite  as  extinct  as  can- 
nibalism. 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  individ- 
ual soldiers  of  hostile  armies  exchanging  kindly 
services.  Members  of  a  complex  industrial  society, 
without  direct  experience  of  warfare  save  in  this 
mitigated  form,  have  their  characters  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  remarked  upon  this  hu- 
mane temperament  which  is  so  characteristic  of 
our  peaceful  civilization,  and  which  sometimes,  in- 
deed, shows  the  defects  of  its  excellence  and  tends 
to  weaken  society  by  making  it  difficult  to  inflict 
due  punishment  upon  the  vilest  criminals.  In  re- 
spect of  this  humanity  the  American  of  the  nine- 
teenth century  has  without  doubt  improved  very 
considerably  upon  his  forefathers   of   the   seven* 


228    THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND, 

teenth.  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  War  of  the 
Roses  had  not  been  without  its  effect ;  and  while 
the  Tudor  and  Stuart  periods  had  atrocities 
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  elsewhere,  however,  it  was, 
when  looked  at  with  our  eyes,  a  rough  and  brutal 
time.  It  was  a  day  of  dungeons,  whipping-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  townspeople  of  Boston  and  Hart- 
ford 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  fi-om  the  safe- 
guards of  civilization  and  placed  in  the  wilderness 
amid  the  hideous  dangers  that  beset  human  exist- 
ence in  a  savage  state  of  society,  whatever  barba' 
rism  lies  latent  in  them  is  likely  to  find  many  op- 
portunities  for  showing  itself.  The  feelings  that 
stir  the  meekest  of  men,  as  he  stands  among  the 
smouldering  embers  of  his  homestead  and  gazes 
Warfare  with  upon  thc  mauglcd  bodies  of  wife  and 
to^tAicui'ent  children,  are  feelings  that  he  shares 
to  character,     ^j^j^  ^^^  ^^^^  bloodthirsty  savagc,  and 

the  primary  effect  of  his  higher  intelligence  and 


KING  PHILIP'S  WAR.  229 

greater  sensitiveness  is  only  to  increase  their  bitter- 
ness. 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  aa 
fear.  With  the  Puritan  such  gloomy  and  savage 
passions  seemed  to  find  justification  in  the  sacred 
text  from  which  he  drew  his  rules  of  life.  To  sup- 
pose that  one  part  of  the  Bible  could  be  less  au- 
thoritative than  another  would  have  been  to  him 
an  incomprehensible  heresy;  and  bound  between 
the  same  covers  that  included  the  Sermon  on  the 
Mount  were  tales  of  wholesale  massacre  perpe- 
trated by  God's  command.  Evidently  the  red  men 
were  not  stray  children  of  Israel,  after  all,  but 
rather  Philistines,  Canaanites,  heathen,  sons  of 
Belial,  firebrands  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  nar- 
rators 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  ta 
find.     Before  the  end  of  January  Winslow's  little 


230  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

army  was  partially  disbanded  for  want  of  food, 
and  its  three  contingents  fell  back  upon  Stoning- 
ton,  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  re-appeared 
it  was  still  in  company  with  his  allies  the  Nip- 
Attackupon  niucks,  in  their  bloody  assault  upon 
Feb^S'io,  Lancaster.  On  the  10th  of  that  month 
^^^^'  at  sunrise  the  Indians  came  swarming 

into  the  lovely  village.  Danger  had  already  been 
apprehended,  the  pastor,  Joseph  Rowlandson,  the 
only  Harvard  graduate  of  1652,  had  gone  to  Bos- 
ton to  solicit  aid,  and  Captain  Wadsworth's  com- 
pany was  slowly  making  its  way  over  the  difficult 
roads  from  Marlborough,  but  the  Indians  were  be- 
forehand. Several  houses  were  at  once  surrounded 
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  captive. 
The  Indians  aimed  at  plunder  as  well  as  destruc- 
tion ;  for  they  were  in  sore  need  of  food  and  blan- 
kets, as  well  as  of  powder  and  ball.  Presently,  as 
they  saw  Wadsworth's  armed  men  approaching, 


KINQ  PHILIP'S  WAR.  231 

they  took  to  flight  and  got  away,  with  many  pris- 
oners 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  pris- 
oners varied  with  the  caprice  or  the  cupidity  of  the 
captors.  Those  for  whom  a  substantial  ransom 
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  presently  the  sav- 
ages lost  their  patience.  They  built  a  fire,  and 
after  a  kind  of  demon  dance  killed 
mother  and  child  with  a  club  and  threw  son's  uarra- 
the  bodies  into  the  flames.  Such  treat- 
ment may  seem  exceptionally  merciful,  but  those 
modem  observers  who  best  know  the  Indian's 
habits  say  that  he  seldom  indulges  in  torture  ex- 
cept when  he  has  abundance  of  leisure  and  a  mind 
quite  undisturbed.  He  is  an  epicure  in  human 
agony  and  likes  to  enjoy  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  cir- 
cuitous march  indicates  that  they  were  on  the 
alert.  Their  movements  seem  to  have  covered 
much  of  the  ground  between  Wachusett  mountain 
and  the  Connecticut  river.  They  knew  that  the 
white  squaw  of  the  great  medicine  man  of  an  Eng- 
lish village  was  wortli  a  heavy  ransom,  and  so  they 
treated  Mrs.  Kowlandson  unusually  well.     She  had 


232     THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

been  captured  when  escaping  from  the  burning 
house,  carrying  in  her  arms  her  little  six-year-old 
daughter.  She  was  stopped  by  a  bullet  that 
grazed  her  side  and  struck  the  child.  The  Indian 
who  seized  them  placed  the  little  girl  upon  a  horse, 
and  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  ex- 
pressed. 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  vio- 
lent 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  heart- 
broken mother  was  led  about  the  country  by  these 
loathsome  savages,  of  whose  habits  and  manners 
she  gives  a  vivid  description.  At  first  their  om- 
nivorousness  astonished  her.  "  Skunks  and  rattle- 
snakes, 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, 


KING  PHILIP'S  WAR.  233 

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  1  never  tasted  pleasanter  meat  in 
my  life."  Early  in  May  she  was  redeemed  for 
£20,  and  went  to  find  her  husband  in  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,  hos- 
pitable. 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  Worces- 
ter, Marlborough,  Mendon,  and  Groton,  and  even 
burned  some  houses  in  Weymouth,  within  a  dozen 
miles  of  Boston.  Murderous  attacks  were  made 
upon  Sudbury,  Chelmsford,  Springfield,  Hat- 
field, Hadley,  Northampton,  Wrentham,  Andover, 
Bridgewater,  Scituate,  and  Middleborough.  On 
the  18th  of  April  Captain  Wadsworth, 
with  70  men,  was  drawn  into  an  ambush  mination  of 
near  Sudbury,  surrounded  by  500  Nip-  February— 

,  ,    /.,,     ,        .   ,       -/^        ;.    ,   .  August,  1C76. 

mucks,  and  killed  with  50  ot  his  men ; 
six   unfortunate   captives  were  burned  alive  over 
slow  fires.      But   Wadsworth's   party   made    the 
enemy  pay  dearly  for  his  victory ;   that   afternoon 
120   Nipmucks   bit   the   dust.     In   such  wise,  by 


234    THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

killing  two  or  three  for  one,  did  the  English  wear 
out  and  annihilate  their  adversaries.  Just  one 
month  from  that  day  Captain  Turner  surprised 
and  slaughtered  300  of  these  warriors  near  the 
falls  of  the  Connecticut  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  Provi- 
dence. 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 
March,  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Pawtuxet,  he  sur- 
prised a  company  of  50  Plymouth  men  under 
Captain  Pierce  and  slew  them  all,  but  not  until  he 
had  lost  140  of  his  best  warriors.  Ten  days  later 
Captain  Denison,  with  his  Connecticut  company, 
defeated  and  captured  Canonchet,  and  the  proud 
son  of  Miantonomo  met  the  same  fate  as  his  father. 
Death  ot  -^^  ^^^  handed  over  to  the  Mohegans 

Cauonchet.  ^mj  tomaliawkcd.  The  Narragansett 
sachem  had  shown  such  bravery  that  it  seemed, 
says  the  chronicler  Hubbard,  as  if  "  some  old  Ro- 
man ghost  had  possessed  the  body  of  this  western 
pagan."  But  next  moment  this  i)ious  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  shai'p  fights  in  the  last  week 
of  June,  Major  Talcott,  of  Hartford,  slew  from 
300  to  400  warriors,  being  nearly  all  that  were 
left  of  the  Narragansetts ;  and  during  the  month 


KING  PHILIP'S  WAR.  286 

of  July  Captain  Church  patrolled  the  country 
about  Taunton,  making  prisoners  of  the  Wam- 
panoags.  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  con- 
ditions 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  present,  but  except  for  Mrs.  Row- 
landson's  narrative  we  should  have  known  nothing 
of  him  since  the  Brookfield  fight. 

At  length  in  July,  1676,  having  seen  the  last  of 
his  Nipmuck  friends  overwhelmed,  the  tattered 
chieftain  showed  himself  near  Bridgewater,  with  a 
handful  of  followers.  In  these  his  own  hunting- 
grounds  some  of  his  former  friends  had  become 
disaffected.  The  daring  and  diplomatic  Church 
had  made  his  way  into  the  wigwam  of  Ashawonks, 
the  squaw  sachem  of  Saconet,  near  Little  Comp- 
ton,  and  having  first  convinced  her  that  a  flask  of 
brandy  might  be  tasted  without  fatal  results,  fol- 
lowed up  his  advantage  and  persuaded  her  to  make 
an  alliance  with  the  English.  Many  Indians  came 
in  and  voluntarily  surrendered  themselves,  in  ordel 
to  obtain  favourable  terms,  and  some  lent  their  aid 
in  destroying  their  old  sachem.  Defeated  at  Taun- 
ton, 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 


236  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

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  tomahawk  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  puide  the  white 

Death  of  ^  ,  °  _,  .,.        , 

Philip,  Au-  men  to  the  morass  where  rhilip  lay 
concealed.  At  daybreak  of  August  12 
the  English  stealthily  advancing  beat  up  their 
prey.  The  savages  in  sudden  panic  rushed  from 
under  cover,  and  as  the  sachem  showed  himself 
running  at  the  top  of  his  speed,  a  ball  from  an  In- 
dian 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  uppermost.  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   Pomeroy  ^    or   a   Chicago    anarchist.     The 

1  A  wretched  little  werewolf  who  some  few  years  apo,  being 
then  a  lad  of  fourteen  or  fifteen  years,  most  cruellj-  murdered  two 
or  three  young  children,  just  to  amuse  himself  with  their  dying 
agonies.  The  misdirected  "  humanitarianisra,"  which  in  our  coun- 
try makes  every  murderer  an  object  of  popular  sympathy,  pre- 
vailed to  save  this  creature  from  the  gallows.     Massachusetts  haa 


KING  PHILIP'S  WAR.  287 

opinions  of  the  clergy  were,  of  course,  eagerly 
sought  and  freely  vouchsafed.  One  minister  some- 
what 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  parents, 
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  children  of  Israel. 
Commenting  upon  the  truculent  suggestion.  In- 
crease Mather,  soon  to  be  president  of  Harvard, 
observed  that,  "  though  David  had  spared  the  in- 
fant Hadad,  yet  it  might  have  been  better  for  his 
people  if  he  had  been  less  merciful."  These  blood- 
thirsty counsels  did  not  prevail,  but  the  course  that 
was  adopted  did  not  lack  in  harshness.  Among 
the  sachems  a  dozen  leading  spirits  were  jn^^j^  ^^^ 
hanged  or  shot,  and  hundreds  of  cap-  Jnt<>  "la^ery- 
tives  were  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 

lately  witneased  a  similar  instance  of  misplaced  clemency  in  the 
ease  of  a  vile  woman  who  had  poisoned  eight  or  ten  persons,  in- 
cluding 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  escaping  in 
1B24  as  "king's  eyidence,"  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  propagate  itself  should  read  Dugdale's  The  Juke$ ;  Heredi- 
tary Cnme,  New  York,  1877.  yud  AiM'  ■ 


238     THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

policy.  Church  feared  it  might  goad  such  Indians 
as  were  still  at  large  to  acts  of  desperation.  Eliot, 
in  an  earnest  letter  to  the  Federal  Commissioners, 
observed :  "  To  sell  souls  for  money  seemeth  to 
me  dangerous  merchandise."  But  the  plan  of  ex- 
porting the  captives  was  adhered  to.  As  slaves 
they  were  understood  to  be  of  little  or  no  value, 
and  sometimes  for  want  of  purchasers  they  were 
set  ashore  on  strange  coasts  and  abandoned.  A 
few  were  even  carried  to  one  of  the  foulest  of 
mediaeval  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  Cam- 
bridge 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  Chi'istian  Indians  had  behaved 
the  Christian     thcmsclves  quitc  as  cruelly  as  their  un- 

regenerate  brethren.  Afterwards  they 
made  such  a  record  that  the  jokers  and  punsters  of 
the  day  —  for  such  there  were,  even  among  those 
sombre  Puritans  —  in  writing  about  the  "  Praying 


KING  PHILIP'S  WAR.  289 

Indians,*'  spelled  praying  with  an  e.  The  moral 
scruples  of  these  savages,  under  the  influence  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  In- 
dian," continues  Mrs.  Rowlandson,  "  who,  when  he 
had  done  all  the  mischief  he  could,  betrayed  his 
own  father  into  the  English's  hands,  thereby  to 
purchase  his  own  life  ;  .  .  .  and  there  was  another 
...  so  wicked  .  .  .  as  to  wear  a  string  about  his 
neck,  strung  with  Christian  fingers." 

Such  incidents  help  us  to  comprehend  the  ex- 
asperation 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  people  had 
time  to  offer  thanks  for  the  victory,  there  came 
news  of  bloodshed  on  the  northeastern  frontier. 
The  Tarratines  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  woidd  be  hard  to  say.  They 
had  attacked  settlers  on  the  site  of 
Brunswick  as  early  as  September,  1075.  Tarratines, 
About  the  time  of  Philip's  death.  Major 
Waldron  of  Dover  had  entrapped  a  party  of  them 
by  an   unworthy  stratagem,  and   after   satisfying 


240    THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

himself  that  they  were  accomplices  in  that  chief- 
tain'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.      Of    ninety    towns, 

Destructive-  x    •/  o  %/  ' 

ness  of  the  twclve  had  been  utterly  destroyed,  while 
more  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  and  strong  promise,  had 
lost  their  lives,  while  of  the  scores  of  fair  women 
and  poor  little  children  that  had  perished  under 
the  ruthless  tomahawk,  one  can  hardly  give  an  ac- 
curate account.  Hardly  a  family  throughout  the 
land  but  was  in  mourning.  The  war-debt  of  Plym- 
outh was  reckoned  to  exceed  the  total  amount  of 
personal  property  in  the  colony ;  yet  although  it 
pinched  every  household  for  many  a  year,  it  waa 


KING  PHILIP'S  WAR.  241 

paid  to  the  uttermost  farthing  ;  nor  in  this  respect 
were  Massachusetts  and  Connecticut  at  all  behind- 
hand. 

But  while  King  Philip's  War  wrought  such  fear- 
ful damage  to  the  English,  it  was  for  the  Indians 
themselves  utter  destruction.  Most  of  the  war- 
riors were  slain,  and  to  the  survivors,  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  searching.  Henceforth  the  red 
man  figures  no  more  in  the  history  of  New  Eng- 
land, except  as  an  ally  of  the  French  in  bloody 
raids  upon  the  frontier.  In  that  capacity  he  does 
mischief  enough  for  yet  a  haK-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  ANDR08. 

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  con- 
temporary memoirs,  of  diplomatic  correspondence, 
of  controversial  pamplilets,  funeral  sermons,  po- 
litical diatribes,  specific  instructions,  official  re- 
ports, and  private  letters.  It  was  not  a  time  in 
which  mythical  personages  or  incredible  legends 
could  flourish,  and   such  things  we  do 

Bomantic  /»i"ii'  rxr  t-iit 

features  in  the  not  find  lu  tlic  history  of  JNew  England. 

early  history  .         .  , 

ofNewEng-  i  here  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  P^ng- 
land  to  an  unexplored  wilderness  beyond  a  thou- 
sand 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  sub- 
limity. The  men  who  undertook  this  work  were 
not  at  all  free  from  self-consciousness.  They  be- 
lieved that  they  were  doing  a  wonderful  thing. 
They  felt  themselves  to  be  instruments  in  accom- 
plishing a  kind  of  "  manifest  destiny."  Their 
exodus  was  that  of  a  chosen  people  who  were  at 


THE  TYRANNY  OF  ANDROS.  243 

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  prece- 
dents, and  to  regard  it  as  an  oracle,  almost  as  a 
talisman.  In  every  propitious  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  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  concentra- 
tion of  strength,  and  contributed  toward  making 
them,  like  the  children  of  Israel,  a  people  of  in- 
destructible 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  throtv  such  a  romantic  haze  about 
things  as  seriously  to  interfere  with  a  true  his- 
torical perspective. 

Among  such  writings  that  which  perhaps  best 
epitomizes  the  Puritan  philosophy  is  "The  Won- 
der-working Providence  of  Zion's  Saviour  in  New 
England,"  by  Captain  Edward  Johnson,  Edward  joha- 
one  of  the  principal  founders  of  Wo-  *°^' 
burn.  It  is  an  extremely  valuable  history  of  New 
England  from  1628  to  1G51,  and  every  page  is 
alive  with  the  virile  energy  of  that  stirring  time. 
With  narrative,  argument,  and  a})ologue,  abound- 
ing in  honesty  of  purpose,  sublimity  of  trust,  and 
grotesqueness  of  fancy,  wherein  touching  tender- 
ness is  often  alternated  with  sternness  most  grim 


244    THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

and  merciless,  yet  now  and  then  relieved  by  a 
sudden  gleam  of  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  sol- 
diers 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  chief  est 
treble  tune  —  for  the  armies  of  the  great  Jehovah 
are  at  hand."  "  He  standeth  not  as  an  idle  spec- 
tator beholding  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  in- 
significant or  trivial;  for,  as  Johnson  continues, 
in  truly  prophetic  phrase,  "  the  Lord  Christ  in- 
tends to  achieve  greater  matters  by  this  little 
handful  than  the  world  is  aware  of." 

The  general  sentiment  of  the  early  New  Eng- 
land writers  was  like  that  of  the  "  Wonder-work- 
ing 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 


THE  TYRANNY  OF  AN  BROS.  246 

which  the  men  and  women  of  other  communities 
hare  been  heard  to  comment  in  resentful  and 
carping  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  as- 
sumption, as  upon  an  incontrovertible  axiom,  all 
historical  narratives,  from  the  chronicles  of  a  parish 
to  the  annals  of  an  empire,  alike  proceed.  But  in 
New  England  it  assumed  a  form  especially  apt 
to  provoke  challenge.  One  of  its  unintentional 
effects  was  the  setting  up  of  an  unreal 

7      1     ,  1  .    ,  Acts  of  the 

and   impossible   standard  by  which  to  Puritans  often 

•      11  1  •  p      ^        -nt       '      JudgeJbya 

judge  the  acts  and  motives  of  the  run-  vn-ong  staad- 
tans  of  the  seventeenth  century.  ^\  e 
come  upon  instances  of  harshness  and  cruelty,  of 
narrow-minded  bigotry,  and  superstitious  frenzy ; 
and  feel,  perhaps,  a  little  surprised  that  these  men 
had  so  much  in  common  with  their  contemporaries. 
Hence  the  interminable  discussion  which  has  been 
called  forth  by  the  history  of  the  Puritans,  in 
which  the  conclusions  of  fhe  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  ol 


246    THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

iiistorians  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  over  the  earth,  we  cannot  fail 
to  discern  the  value  of  that  sacred  enthusiasm 
which  led  them  to  regard  themselves  as  chosen 
Spirit  of  the  soldicrs  of  Christ.  It  was  the  spirit  of 
wSfg'prov-  tlie  "  Wonder-working  Providence  "  that 
idence."  hurlcd   the   tyrant  from  his  throne  at 

Whitehall  and  prepared  the  way  for  the  emanci- 
pation 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  generalized 
from  the  love  of  particular  liberties,  was  some- 
thing scarcely  intelligible  to  the  seventeenth  cen- 
tury. The  ideas  of  absolute  freedom  of  tliought 
and  speech,  which  we  breathe  in  from  childhood, 
were  to  the  men  of  that  age  strange  and  question- 
able. They  groped  and  floundered  among  them, 
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  re- 
buked and  humbled  an  idolatrous  king  was  a 
spirit  they  could  comprehend.  Such  a  spirit  was 
sure  to  manifest  itself  in  narrow  cramping  meas- 
ures and  in  ugly  acts  of  persecution  ;  but  it  is 
none   the  less   to  the   fortunate  alliance  of   that 


THE  TYRANNY  OF  ANDROS.  247 

fervid  religious  enthusiasm  with  the  Englishman's 
love  of  self-government  that  our  modern  freedom 
owes  its  existence. 

The  history  of  New  England  xmder  Charles  IL 
yields  abundant  proof  that  political  liberty  is  no 
less  indebted  in  the  New  World  than  in  the  Old  to 
the  spirit  of  the  "  Wonder-working  Providence.'* 
The  theocratic  ideal  which  the  Puritan  sought  to 
out  into  practice  in  Massachusetts  and 

»1  .  ,     .         .         .  .        Merits  and 

Connecticut  was  a  sacred  institution  m  faults  of  the 
defence  of  which  all  his  faculties  were 
kept  perpetually  alert.  Much  as  he  loved  self-gov- 
ernment, he  would  never  have  been  so  swift  to 
detect  and  so  stubborn  to  resist  every  slightest  en- 
croachment 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  worsliippers  of  Dagon.  It  was  in  Massachusetts, 
where  the  theocracy  was  strongest,  that  the  resist- 
ance to  Charles  II.  was  most  dogged  and  did  most 
to  prepare  the  way  for  the  work  of  achieving  po- 
litical 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  as- 
serted 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  encroacliments 
of  the  crown,  we  cannot  be  sorry  that  it  was  itself 
crushed  in  the  process.  It  was  well  that  it  did  not 
turvive  its  day  of  usefulness,  and  that  the  outcome 


248    THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

of  the  struggle  was  what  has  been  aptly  termed 
"the  emancipation  of  Massachusetts." 

The  basis  of  the  theocratic  constitution  of  this 
commonwealth  was  the  provision  by  which  the  ex- 
ercise of  the  franchise  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  colon j',  he  could  not  vote  or  hold 
Restriction  of  officc.  Church  and  state,  parish  and 
churc'f^m^  town,  wcrc  thus  virtually  identified. 
^"■^  Here,  as  in  some  other  aspects  of  early 

New  England,  one  is  reminded  of  the  ancient 
Greek  cities,  where  the  freeman  who  could  vote  in 
the  market-place  or  serve  his  turn  as  magistrate 
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  execut- 
ing its  laws.  The  limitation  of  civil  rights  by  re- 
ligious tests  is  indeed  one  of  those  common  inher- 
itances from  the  old  Aryan  world  that  we  find 
again  and  again  cropping  out,  even  down  to  the 
exclusion  of  Catholics  from  the  House  of  Com- 
mons from  1562  to  1829.  The  obvious  purpose 
of  this  policy  in  England  was  self-protection  ;  and 
in  like  manner  the  restriction  of  the  suffrage  in 
Massachusetts  was  designed  to  protect  the  colony 
against  aggressive  episcopacy  and  to  maintain  un- 
impaired 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  Koger  Williams 


THE  TYRANNY  OF  ANDROS.  249 

snd  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  Massachusetts,  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  Connec- 
ticut policy  to  go  where  it  prevailed.  Some  such 
segregation  was  no  doubt  effected,  but  it  could  not 
be  complete  and  thorough.  Men  who  preferred 
Boston  without  the  franchise  to  Hartford  with  it 
would   remain   in    Massachusetts ;  and  j,  „.„  „ 

'  It  was  a 

thus  the  elder  colony  soon  came  to  pos-  i^J^f^^d"^^ 
sess  a  discontented  class  of  people,  al-  '®°*- 
ways  ready  to  join  hand  in  glove  with  dissentern 
or  mischief-makers,  or  even  with  emissaries  of  the 
crown.  It  afforded  a  suggestive  commentary  upon 
all  attempts  to  suppress  human  nature  by  depriv- 
ing it  of  a  share  in  political  life ;  instead  of  keep- 
ing 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  founding  of 
Boston  the  disfranchisement  of  such  citizens  as 
could  not  participate  in  church-communion  had  be- 
gun to  be  regarded  as  a  serious  political  grievance. 
These  men  were  obliged  to  pay  taxes  and  were 
liable  to  be  called  upon  for  military  service 
l^^ainst  the  Indians ;  and  they  naturally  felt  that 
they  ought  to  have  a  voice  in  the  management  of 
public  affairs. 

Besides  this  fundamental  ground  of  complain^ 


250    THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

there  were  derivative  grievances.  Under  the  influ* 
ence  of  the  clergy  justice  was  administered  in  some- 
what 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 

Inquisitorial  I'l 

administration     DCgUn  tO  COmplaiU  that  tOO  mUch   pOWCT 

of  justice.  '='  1    •         1         T  •  r      1 

was  rested  m  the  discretion  of  the  mag- 
istrate, and  they  clamoured  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  Eng- 
land by  decisions  based  on  the  Old  Testament 
rather  than  by  a  body  of  statutes.  It  was  not 
until  1649,  after  a  persistent  struggle,  that  the 
deputies  won  a  decisive  victory  over  the  assistants 
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  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  members  of  the  church,  and 
The  "Halfway  therefore  entitled  to  the  exercise  of  polit- 
Covenant."  j^j^i  rights,  cvcn  though  Unqualified  for 
participation  in  the  Lord's  Supper.     This  theory 


TEE  TYRANNY  OF  ANDROS.  251 

of  church-membership,  based  on  what  was  at  that 
time  stigmatized  as  the  "  Halfway  Covenant," 
aroused  intense  opposition.  It  was  the  great  ques- 
tion of  the  day.  In  1657  a  council  was  held  in 
Boston,  which  approved  the  principle  of  the  Half- 
way Covenant ;  and  as  this  decision  was  far  from 
satisfying  the  churches,  a  synod  of  all  the  clergy- 
men in  Massachusetts  was  held  five  years  later,  to 
reconsider  the  great  question.  The  decision  of  the 
synod  substantially  confirmed  the  decision  of  the 
council,  but  there  were  some  dissenting  voices. 
Foremost  among  the  dissenters,  who  wished  to  re- 
tain the  old  theocratic  regime  in  all  its  strictness, 
was  Charles  Chauncey,  the  president  of  Harvard 
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  melancholy  Norton,  died 
in  16G3,  and  four  years  later  the  aged  pastor,  John 
Wilson,  followed  him.  In  choosing  a  successor  to 
Wilson  the  church  decided  to  declare  itself  in  op- 
position 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  disgusted  at  the  re- 
cent annexation  of  his  colony  to  Connecticut.  He 
accepted  the  invitation  and  came  to  Boston,  against 


252  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

the  wishes  of  nearly  half  of  the  Boston  congrega" 
tion  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 
that  a  secession  from  the  old  church  had  become 
inevitable.  In  1669  the  advocates  of 
the  Old  South  the  Halfwav  Covenant  organized  them- 

Church,   1669.  .  *'  .  i  ,  .  , 

selves  into  a  new  society  under  the  title 
of  the  "  Third  Church  in  Boston."  A  wooden 
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  meeting-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  dis- 
tinguished 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  1729  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  Philadel- 
phia 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  thir- 
teen years  it  refused  to  entertain  ecclesiastical  in- 
tercourse with  the  South  Church.     But  by  1682  it 


THE  TYRANNY  OF  ANDROS.  253 

had  become  apparent  that  the  king  and  his  friends 
were  meditating  an  attack  upon  the  Puritan  the- 
ocracy in  New  England.  It  had  even  been  sug- 
gested, in  the  council  for  the  colonies,  that  the 
Church  of  England  should  be  established  in  Mas- 
sachusetts, and  that  none  but  duly  ordained  Epis-. 
copal  clergymen  should  be  allowed  to  solemnize 
marriages.  Such  alarming  suggestions  began  to 
impress  the  various  Puritan  churches  with  the  im- 
portance of  uniting  their  forces  against  the  com- 
mon 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  com- 
ing. 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  had  thought  it  worth 
while  to  send  commissioners  to  England  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  Dp,„^„jg  ^^ 
the  king's  name,  and  must  repeal  their  cimries  n. 
laws  restricting  the  right  of  suffrage  to  church 
members  and  prohibiting  the  Episcopal  form  of 
worship.     When  the  people  of  Massachusetts  re- 


254    THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

ceived  this  message  they  consented  to  administer 
justice  in  the  king's  name,  but  all  the  other  mat- 
ters 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 
Massachusetts  had  complied  with  the  king's  de- 
mands ;  but  upon  this  point  the  legislature  stub- 
bornly withheld  any  definite  answer,  while  it  frit- 
tered away  the  time  in  trivial  altercations  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  ac- 
cusations. Apart  from  mere  slanders  the  real 
grounds  of  complaint  were  the  restriction  of  the 
suffrage,  whereby  members  of  the  Church  of  Eng- 
land were  shut  out ;  the  claims  of  the  eastern  pro- 
prietors, heirs  of  Mason  and  Gorges, 
agS'nsrMaMa-  whosc  territory  Massachusetts  had  ab- 
sorbed ;  the  infraction  of  the  naviga- 
tion laws  ;  and  the  coinage  of  pine-tree  shillings. 
The  last  named  measure  had  been  forced  upon  the 
colonists  by  the  scarcity  of  a  circulating  medium. 
Until  1661  Indian  wampum  had  been  a  legal  ten- 
der, and  far  into  the  eighteenth  century  it  remained 
current  in  small  transactions.  "  In  1693  the  fer- 
riage from  New  York  to  Brooklyn  was  eight  stivers 
in  wampum  or  a  silver  twopence."  ^  iVs  early  as 
1652  Massachusetts  had  sought  to  supply  the  defi- 

1  Weeden,  Indian  Money  as  a  Factor  in  New  England  CiviL 
ication,  Johns  Hopkins  University  Studies,  II.  viii.,  ix.  p.  30. 


THE  TYRANNY  OF  ANDROS.  255 

ciency  by  the  issue  of  shillings  and  sixpences.  It 
was  an  affair  of  convenience  and  probably  had  no 
political  purpose.  The  infraction  of  the  naviga- 
tion laws  was  a  more  serious  matter.  "  Ships 
from  France,  Spain,  and  the  Canaries  traded 
directly  with  Boston,  and  brought  in  goods  which 
had  never  paid  duty  in  any  English  port."  ^  The 
effect  of  this  was  to  excite  the  jealousy  of  the  mer- 
chants in  London  and  other  English  cities  and  to 
deprive  Massachusetts  of  the  sympathy  of  that 
already  numerous  and  powerful  class  of  people. 

In  1675,  the  first  year  of  King  Philip's  War,  the 
British  government  made  up  its  mind  to  attend 
more  closely  to  the  affairs  of  its  Amer-  ^^^  ^^^^  ^^ 
ican  colonies.  It  had  got  the  Dutch  ^'^'^*'- 
war  off  its  hands,  and  could  give  heed  to  other 
things.  The  general  supervision  of  the  colonies 
was  assigned  to  a  standing  committee  of  the  privy 
council,  styled  the  "  Lords  of  the  Committee  of 
Trade  and  Plantations,"  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 
messenger  was  to  go  about  and  ascertain  the  sen- 
timents which  people  in  the  Kennebec  and  Piscat- 
aqua  towns,  as  well  as  in  Boston,  entertained  for 
the  government  of  Massachusetts.  The  person  to 
whom  this  work  was  entrusted  was  Edward  Ran- 
dolph, a  cousin  of  Robert  Mason  who  p.j„,„d  r^. 
inherited  the  proprietary  claim  to  the  ^°^^^- 
Piscataqua  country.  To  these  men  had  old  John 
1  Doyle,  ii.  253. 


266     THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

Mason  bequeathed  his  deadly  feud  with  Massa- 
chusetts, and  the  fourteen  years  which  Randolph 
now  spent  in  New  England  were  busily  devoted  to 
sowing  the  seeds  of  strife.  In  1678  the  king  ap- 
pointed him  collector  and  surveyor  of  customs  at 
the  port  of  Boston,  with  instructions  to  enforce  the 
navigation  laws.  Randolph  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  in- 
accessible to  bribes  and  did  not  pick  and  steal  from 
the  receipts  at  the  custom-house.  In  the  other 
relations  of  life  he  was  disencumbered  of  scruples. 
His  abilities  were  not  great,  but  his  industry  was 
untiring,  and  he  pursued  his  enemies  with  the  te- 
nacity of  a  sleuth-hound.  As  an  excellent  British 
historian  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 
Massachusetts.  His  reception  at  the  town-house 
was  a  cold  one.  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  Cov- 
entry ?  "  Randol])h's  choking  rage  found  A^ent  in 
a  letter  to  the  king,  taking  pains  to  remind  him 
that  the  governor  of  Massachusetts  had  once  been 
an  officer  in  Cromwell's  army.  As  we  read  this 
and  think  with  what  ghoulish  glee  the  writer  would 

"■  Doyle,  Puritan  Colonies,  ii.  254. 


THE  TYRANNY  OF  ANDROS.  257 

bave  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  Eandolph  could  think 
of  that  would  goad  and  irritate  the  king,  he  re- 
ported in  full  to  London ;  his  letters  were  speci- 
mens of  that  worst  sort  of  lie  that  is  based  upon 
distorted  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  carefid  handling  a  party  was  soon  brought  into 
existence  which  was  ready  to  counsel  submission  to 
the  royal  will.  Such  was  the  birth  of  Toryism  in 
New  England.  The  leader  of  this  party  was  Jo- 
seph Dudley,  son  of  the  grim  verse-maker  j  j^  jj^_ 
who  had  come  over  as  lieutenant  to  '®y- 
Winthrop.  The  younger  Dudley  was  graduated 
at  Harvard  in  1665,  and  proceeded  to  study  the- 
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  he  was  one  of  the  Fed- 
eral Commissioners.  In  character  and  temper  he 
differed  greatly  from  his  father.  Like  the  pro- 
verbial minister's  son  whose  feet  are  swift  toward 
folly,  Joseph  Dudley  seems  to  have  learned  in 
stem  bleak  years  of  childhood  to  rebel  against  the 
Puritan  theory  of  life.    Much  of  the  abuse  that 


258    THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

has  been  heaped  upon  him,  as  a  renegade  and 
traitor,  is  probably  undeserved.  It  does  not  ap- 
pear 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  supple- 
ness 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  previous  century, 
Robert,  Earl  of  Leicester.  His  party  in  Massa- 
chusetts 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,  Pres- 
byterians, and  Baptists,  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  in- 
habitants, the  population  of  Massachusetts  was  ap- 
proaching 30,000,  and,  according  to  Hutchinson, 
scarcely  one  grown  man  in  five  was  a  church-mem- 
ber qualified  to  vote  or  hold  office.  Such  a  fact 
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  overrunning  Christ's  pleasant  garden. 
No  wonder  that  the  spirit  of  revolt  against  the  dis- 
franchising policy  of  the  theocracy  was  ripe. 

It  was  in  1679,  when  this  weakness  of  tlie  body 
politic  had  been  duly  studied  and  rej)orted  by 
Randolph,  and  when  all  New  England  was  groan* 


THE  TYRANNY  OF  ANDROS.  259 

ing  under  the  bereavements  and  burdens  entailed 
by  Philip's  war,  that  the  Stuart  government  began 
its  final  series  of  assaults  upon  Massachusetts. 
The  claims  of  the  eastern  proprietors,  the  heirs  of 
Mason  and  Gorges,  furnished  the  occa- 
sion.    Since  1643  the  four  Piscataqua  inceofNew 

TT  -n  T^  1     Hampshire. 

towns  —  Hampton,  il/xeter,  Dover,  and 
Portsmouth  —  had  remained  under  the  jurisdic- 
tion 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  a  grant  in  which  the 
old  Plymouth  Company  had  exceeded  its  powers. 
They  also  decided  that  Massachusetts  had  no  valid 
claim  since  the  charter  assigned  her  a  boundary 
just  north  of  the  Merrimack.  This  decision  left 
the  four  towns  subject  to  none  but  the  king,  who 
forthwitli  in  1679  proceeded  to  erect  them  into  the 
royal  province  of  New  Hampshire,  with  president 
and  council  appointed  by  the  crown,  and  an  as- 
sembly chosen  by  the  people,  but  endowed  with 
little  authority,  —  a  tricksome  counterfeit  of  popu- 
lar government.  Within  three  years  an  arrogant 
and  thieving  ruler,  Edward  Cranfield,  had  goaded 
New  Hampshire  to  acts  of  insurrection. 

To  the  decisions  of  the  chief-justices  Massachu- 
setts must  needs  submit.  The  Gorges  claim  led 
to  more  serious  results.  Under  Cromwell's  rule 
in  1652  —  the  same  year  in  which  she  began  coin- 
ing money —  Massachusetts  had  extended  her  sway 
over  Maine.  In  1665  Colonel  Nichols  and  his 
commissioners,  acting  upon   the   express   iiistruo< 


260    THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

tions  of  Charles  II.,  took  it  away  from  her.  In 
The  Gorges  1668,  after  the  commissioners  had  gone 
claim.  home,  Massachusetts  coolly  took  posses- 

sion 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 
Ferdinando  Gorges,  grandson  of  the  first  proprie- 
tor, 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  Duke  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  X1250  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  express- 
ing 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,  concerning  the 
oath  of  allegiance,  the  restriction  of  the  suffrage, 
and  the  prohibition  of  the  Episcopal  form  of 
worship. 

This  peremptory  message  reached  Boston  about 
Christmas,  1679.  Leverett,  the  sturdy  Ironsides, 
had  died  six  months  before,  and  his  place  was 
filled  by  Simon  Bradstreet,  a  man  of  moderate 
powers  but  great  integrity,  and  held  in  peculiar 
reverence  as  the  last  survivor  of  those  that  had 
been  chosen  to  office  before  leaving  England  by 


THE  TYRANNY  OF  ANDROS.  261 

the  leaders  of  the  great  Puritan  exodus.   Bom  in  a 
Lincolnshire   village   in  1603,   he   was 

Simon  Brad- 

now  seventy-six  years  old.  He  had  taken  Btreet  and  hia 
his  degree  at  Emmanuel  College,  Cam- 
bridge, had  served  as  secretary  to  the  Earl  of 
Warwick,  and  in  1629  had  been  appointed  mem- 
ber of  tlie  board  of  assistants  for  the  colony  about 
to  be  established  on  Massachusetts  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  contempo- 
raries 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  said  that  if  Virgil  could  only  have 
heard  the  seraphic  poems  of  Anne  Bradstreet,  he 
would  have  thrown  his  heathen  doggerel  into  the 
fire.  She  was  sister  of  Joseph  Dudley,  and  evi- 
dently inherited  this  rhyming  talent,  such  as  it 
was,  from  her  father.  Governor  Bradstreet  be- 
longed 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  ap* 
peared,  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 


262    THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

stated  in  vague  and  unsatisfactory  terms  that  the 

royal  orders  of  1662  either  had  been  car- 
Massachusetts      .  Ill'  !• 

answers  the  ried  out  already  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  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  submission  and  threaten- 
ing legal  proceedings  against  the  charter.  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 
bis  people  at  defiance  and  governing  without  a 
parliament.  This  could  not  be  done  without  a 
great  supply  of  money.  Louis  XIV.  had  plenty 
of  money,  for  there  was  no  constitution  in  France 
to  prevent  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 
goon   to  be  cut   short  by  the   expulsion  of    the 


THE  TYRANNY  OF  ANDROS.  263 

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  inter- 
fere with  his  seizing  Alsace  and  Lorraine  and  in« 
vading  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 

T-'i  ^l-»r>^1  ^   •    ^     t  •  i     ^c"**  treaty 

February,  1681,  by  which  Louis  agreed  between 
to  pay  Charles  2,000,000  livres  down,  and  louu 
and  500,000  more  in  each  of  the  next 
two  years,  on  condition  that  he  should  summon  no 
more  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  parlia- 
ment for  the  21st  of  March,  to  meet  at  Oxford 
within  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 
parliament  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  quar- 
tered. The  Whig  leader  Lord  Shaftesbury  was 
obliged  to  flee  to  Holland.  In  the  absence  of  a 
parliament  the  only  power  of  organized  resistance 


264  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

to  the  king's  tyranny  resided  in  the  corporate  gov- 
ernments of  the  chartered  towns.     The 

Shameful  pro-  e    -r  t  t        t 

ceedings  in       charter  01  JLondon  was  accordingly  at- 

England.  ,       i    ,  •  r  i 

tacked  by  a  writ  of  qtio  warranto,  and 
in  June,  1683,  the  time-serving  judges  declared  it 
confiscated.  George  Jeffreys,  a  low  drunken  fel- 
low whom  Charles  had  made  Lord  Chief  Justice, 
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  re- 
turned 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  meas- 
ures, the  friends  of  law  and  liberty  were  for  a  mo- 
ment disconcerted  and  paralyzed.  In  the  frightful 
abasement  of  the  courts  of  justice  which  these 
events  so  clearly  showed,  the  freedom  of  English* 
men  seemed  threatened  in  its  last  stronghold. 
The  doctrine  of  passive  obedience  to  monarchs  was 
preached  in  the  pulpits  and  inculcated  by  the  uni- 
versity 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  command  is  necessary."  Charles  felt  so 
strong  that  in  1684  he  flatly  refused  to  summon  a 
parliament. 


THE  TYRANNY  OF  ANDROS.  265 

It  was  not  long  before  the  effects  of  all  this  were 
felt  in  New  England.  The  mission  of  Dudley  and 
his  colleague  was  fruitless.  They  re-  MaMnchuaetu 
turned  to  Boston,  and  Kandolph,  who  J^lZ'he/"" 
had  followed  them  to  London,  now  fol-  «=*»*^'- 
lowed  them  back,  armed  with  a  writ  of  quo  war- 
ranto 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  constitution  to  please  a  tyrant  or  see 
it  trampled  under  foot?  Recent  events  in  Eng- 
land 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-House,  and  the  moder- 
ator requested  all  who  were  for  surrendering  the 
charter  to  hold  up  their  hands.  Not  a  hand  was 
lifted,  and  out  from  the  throng  a  solitary  voice 
exclaimed,  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  de- 
liver it  up  unto  the  spoiler  who  demanded  it  "  even 
as  Ahab  required  Naboth's  vineyard,  Oh!  their 
children  would  be  bound  to  curse  them."  Such 
was  the  attitude  of  Massachusetts,  and  when  it 
was  known  in  London,  the  blow  was  it  u  annulled 
struck.  For  technical  reasons  Ran-  chanTerj*" 
dolph's  writ  was  not  served ;  but  on  '^'  ' 
the  21.st  of  June  a  decree  in  chancery  annulled  the 
charter  of  Massachusetts. 


266     THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

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  England,  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  Hampton  Court  or  the  castle  at  Windsor,  but 
which  the  sovereign  might  alienate  by  his  volun- 
tary 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 
Englishmen  settled  there  had  theoretically  no  se- 
curity save  in  the  provisions  of  the  various  char- 
ters by  which  the  crown  had  delegated 
nulling  the  '  its  authority  to  individual  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  occu- 
pants or  otherwise  deal  with  them  as  trespassers. 
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 


THE  TYRANNY  OF  ANDROS.  267 

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  getting  everything  arranged  to  his  mind,  a 
stroke  of  apoplexy  carried  him  off  the  scene,  and 
his  brother  ascended  the  throne.  Monmouth's  re- 
bellion, and  the  horrible  cruelties  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  gjr  Edmund 
spare  such  an  exemplary  knave  as  Kirke,  ^ndros. 
James  II.  sent  over  Sir  Edmund  Andros.  In  the 
mean  time  the  government  of  Massachusetts  had 
been  administered  by  Dudley,  who  showed  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  territorial 
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  ad- 
ministration. With  Plymouth  there  could  be  no 
trouble ;  she  had  never  had  a  charter,  but  had  ex- 
isted on  sufferance  from  the  outset.  In  1G87  the 
charters  of  Rhode  Island  and  Connecticut  were  re* 


268    THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

scinded,  but  the  decrees  were  not  executed  in  due 
form.  In  October  of  that  year  Andros  went  to 
The  Charter  Hartford,  to  scizc  the  Connecticut  char- 
^'^'  ter,  but  it  was  not  surrendered.     While 

Sir  Edmund  was  bandying  threats  with  stout 
Robert  Treat,  the  queller  of  Indians  and  now  gov- 
ernor of  Connecticut,  in  the  course  of  their  even- 
ing conference  the  candles  were  suddenly  blown 
out,  and  when  after  some  scraping  of  tinder  they 
were  lighted  again  the  document  was  nowhere  to 
be  found,  for  Captain  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  twelvemonth  New  York  and  New  Jersey 
were  added  to  the  viceroyalty  of  Andros  ;  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  Episcopal  church. 

Episcopal  ser-  ^  ^  ^ 

vices  in  Bos-     and  meantime  the  rovkl  order  was  that 

ton.  ^       ^     •' 

one  of  the  principal  meeting-houses 
should  be  seized  for  the  use  of  the  Church  of  Eng- 
land. This  was  an  ominous  beginning.  In  the 
eyes  of  the  people  it  was  much  more  than  a  mere 
question  of  disturbing  Puritan   prejudices.     They 


THE  TYRANNY  OF  ANDROS.  269 

had  before  them  the  experience  of  Scotland  during 
the  past  ten  years,  the  savage  times  of  "  Old  Mor- 
tality," the  times  which  had  seen  the  tyrannical 
prelate,  on  the  lonely  moor,  begging  in  vain  for 
his  life,  the  times  of  Dnmiclog  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  hap- 
pen in  another,  for  the  Stuart  policy  was  the  same. 
It  aimed  not  at  securing  toleration  but  at  assert- 
ing unchecked  supremacy.  Its  demand  for  an 
inch  was  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  thence- 
forward Episcopal  services  were  held  there  alter- 
nately with  the  regular  services  until  the  overthrow 
of  Andros.  The  pastor,  Samuel  Willard,  was  son 
of  the  gallant  veteran  who  had  rescued  the  be- 
leaguered people  of  Brookfield  in  King  Philip's 
war.  Amusing  passages  occurred  between  him  and 
Sir  Edmund,  who  relished  the  pleasantry  of  keep- 
ing 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  Kiner's 

r^^  ^  ^  ■%  •  ,i       Founding  of 

Chapel  on  the  spot  where  its  venerable  the  King's 

i.         1  rp,  ,  ,  Ch»pel.l689. 

successor  now  stands.     Ihe  church  was 

not  finished  until  after  Sir  Edmund  had  taken  his 

departure,  but  Lady  Andros,  who  died  in  February, 


270  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

1688,  lies  in  the  burying-ground  hard  by.  Hef 
gentle  manners  had  won  all  hearts.  For  the  mo- 
ment, we  are  told,  one  touch  of  nature  made  ene- 
mies 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  governor."  ^ 

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  upon  common  lands 

Tyranny.  •         i  i  •    i     • 

as  m  older  manorial  times,  and  the  writ 
of  habeas  corpus  was  suspended.  Dudley  was 
appointed  censor  of  the  press,  and  nothing  was 
allowed  to  be  printed  without  his  permission.  All 
the  public  records  of  the  late  New  England  gov- 
ernments 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  proclaimed  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  black- 
mail. The  General  Court  was  abolished.  The 
power  of  taxation  was  taken  from  the  town-meet- 
ings and  lodged  with  the  governor.  Against  this 
crowning  iniquity  the  town  of  Ipswich,  led  by  its 
sturdy  pastor,  John  Wise,  made  protest.     In  re- 

1  The  quotation  is  from  an  unpublished  letter  of  Rev.  Robert 
Ratcli£Fe  to  the  Bishop  of  London,  cited  in  an  able  article  in  th» 
Boston  Herald,  Janoary  4,  1888.     I  have  not  seen  the  letter. 


THE  TYRANNY  OF  ANDROS.  27t 

spouse  Mr  Wise  was  thrown  into  prison,  fined 
X50,  and  suspended  from  the  ministry.  A  notable 
and  powerful  character  was  this  John  Wise.  One 
of  the  broadest  thinkers  and  most  lucid  john  wi^  of 
writers  of  his  time,  he  seems  like  a  fore-  p"*'*^*^ 
runner  of  the  liberal  Unitarian  divines  of  the  nine- 
teenth century.  His  "Vindication  of  the  Govern- 
ment of  the  New  England  Churches,"  published  in 
1717,  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  Euphrates  would  not 
have  attracted  comment ;  the  peasantry  of  central 
Europe  would  have  endured  it  until  better  in- 
structed ;  but  in  an  English  community  it  could 
not  last  long.  If  James  II.  had  remained  upon 
the  throne.  New  England  would  surely  p.^  ^^  j^^ 
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  Stuart  dynasty  after  Crom- 
well's death.  Tired  of  the  disgraceful  subservience 
of  her  Court  to  the  schemes  of  Louis  XIV.,  tired 
of  fictitious  plots  and  judicial  murders,  tired  of 
bloody  assizes  and  declarations  of  indulgence  and 
all  the  strange  devices  of  Stuart  tyranny,  England 
endured  the  arrogance  of  James  but  three  years. 


272    THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND, 

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  youth- 
ful 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  and 
earnest  deliberation  among  the  citizens,  as  the  suc- 
cess of  the  Prince's  enterprise  was  not  yet  regarded 
as  assured.  But  all  at  once,  on  the  morning  of  the 
18th,  the  drums  beat  to  arms,  the  sigual-fire  was 
lighted  on  Beacon  Hill,  a  meeting  was  held  at  the 
Town-House,  militia  began  to  pour  in   from  the 

country,  and  Andros,  summoned  to  sur- 
in  Boston,  and  rcudcr,  was  fain  to  beseech  Mr.  Willard 
Andros,  Apru  and  the  other  ministers  to  intercede  for 

him.  But  the  ministers  refused.  Next 
day  the  Castle  was  surrendered,  the  Rose  frigate 
riding  in  the  harbour  was  seized  and  dismantled, 
and  Andros  was  arrested  as  he  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  beginning  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  satisfac- 
tory arrangements  could  be  made.  But  Increase 
Mather,  who  was  then  in  London  on  a  mission  in 
behalf  of  New  England,  judiciously  prevented  this 
letter  of  instructions  from  being  sent.  The  zeal  of 
the  people  outstripped  the  cautious  policy  of  the 


THE  TYRANNY  OF  ANDROS.  278 

new  sovereign,  and  provisional  governments,  in 
accordance  with  the  old  charters,  were  at  once  set 
up  in  the  colonies  lately  ruled  by  Andros.  Brad- 
street  now  in  his  eighty-seventh  year  was  reinstated 
as  governor  of  Massachusetts.  Five  weeks  after 
this  revolution  in  Boston  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-gov- 
ernment would  now  be  guaranteed  to  New  England. 
This  hope  was  at  least  so  far  realized  that  from 
the  most  formidable  dangers  which  had  threatened 
it,  New  England  was  henceforth  secured.  The 
struggle  with  the  Stuarts  was  ended,  and  by  this 
second  revolution  within  half  a  century 

.  1        1       r  EffecUoftha 

the  crown  had  received  a  check  from  Revolution  of 

1689. 

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  stem  ordeaX 
to  go  through,  but  never  again  was  she  to  be  so 
trodden  down  and  insulted  as  in  the  days  of  An> 
dros.  The  efforts  of  George  III.  to  rule  Eng- 
lishmen despotically  were  weak  as  compared  with 
those  of  the  Stuarts.  In  his  time  England  had 
waxed  strong  enough  to  curb  the  tyrant,  America 
had  waxed  strong  enough  to  defy  and  disown  him. 
After  1689  the  Puritan  no  longer  felt  that  his  re- 
ligion 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  ha 


274    THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

agreed,  as  a  Dutch  Calvinist,  more  nearly  with  the 
Puritans  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  Eng- 
land had  exhibited.  In  the  negotiations  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  some- 
what less  irritating  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  allowed 
to  remain  in  force.  They  were  so  liberal  that  no 
change  in  them  was  needed  at  the  time  of  the 
Kevolution,  so  that  Connecticut  was  governed  un- 
der 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  north- 
ern colonies  under  a  single  administration.  The 
French  in  Canada  were  fast  becoming  rivals  to  be 
_    , ,  feared  ;  and  the  wonderful  ex])loration3 

Keed  for  union  '  -i 

^rthlra  coi^  ^^  -^^  Salle,  bringing  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  sea-board.  Already 
the  relations  of  position  which  led  to  the  great 
Seven  Years'  War  were  beginning  to  shape  them- 
selves ;  and  the  conflict  between  France  and  Eng- 
land actually  broke  out  in  1689,  as  soon  as  Louia 


THE  TYRANNY  OF  ANDROS.  275 

XIV.'s  hired  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  desirable  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  cau- 
tion. Accordingly  he  did  not  seek  to  unite  New 
York  with  New  England,  and  he  did  not  think  it 
worth  while  to  carry  out  the  attack  pijTnouth, 
which  James  had  only  begun  upon  Con-  ^^f;  ^ 
necticut  and  Rhode  Island.  As  for  mi^i^ 
New  Hampshire,  he  seems  to  have  been  ■*""■ 
restrained  by  what  in  the  language  of  modem  pol- 
itics would  be  called  "  pressure,"  brought  to  bear 
by  certain  local  interests.^  But  in  the  case  of 
the  little  colony  foimded  by  the  Pilgrims  of  the 
Mayflower  there  was  no  obstacle.  She  was  now 
annexed  to  Massachusetts,  which  also  received  not 
only  Maine  but  even  Acadia,  just  won  from  the 
French ;  so  that,  save  for  the  short  break  at  Ports- 
mouth, the  coast  of  Massachusetts  now  reached  all 
the  way  from  Martha's  Vineyard  to  the  GuK  of 
St.  Lawrence. 

But  along  with  this  great  territorial  extension 
there  went  some  ciirtailment  of  the  political  priv- 
ileges of  the  colony.     By  the  new  charter  of  1692 
the  right  of  the  people  to  be  governed  by  a  legisla- ; 
ture  of  their  own  choosing  was  expressly  conflrmed. ) 
1  Doyle,  Puritan  Colonies,  ii.  379,  380. 


276    THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

The  exclusive  right  of  this  legislature  to  impose 
taxes  was  also  confirmed.  But  henceforth  no 
qualification  of  church-membership,  but  only  a 
property  qualification,  was  to  be  required  of  voters  i 
the  governor  was  to  be  appointed  by  the  crown  in- 
stead of  being  elected  by  the  people  ;  and  all  laws 
passed  by  the  legislature  were  to  be  sent  to  Eng- 
land for  royal  approval.  These  features  of  the 
new  charter,  —  the  extension,  or  if  I  may  so  call 
it,  the  secularization  of  the  franchise,  the  appoint- 
Massachu-  ment  of  the  governor  by  the  crown,  and 
Troy^prOT-*  the  powcr  of  vcto  which  the  crown  ex- 
ince.  pressly  reserved,  —  were  grave  restric- 

tions upon  the  independence  which  Massachusetts 
had  hitherto  enjoyed.  Henceforth  her  position  was 
to  be  like  that  of  the  other  colonies  with  royal 
governors.  But  her  history  did  not  thereby  lose 
its  interest  or  significance,  though  it  became,  like 
the  history  of  most  of  the  colonies,  a  dismal  record 
of  irrepressible  bickerings  between  the  governor 
appointed  by  the  crown  and  the  legislature  elected 
by  the  people.  In  the  period  that  began  in  1692 
and  ended  in  1776,  the  movements  of  Massachu- 
setts, while  restricted  and  hampered,  were  at  the 
same  time  forced  into  a  wider  orbit.  She  was 
brought  into  political  sympathy  with  Virginia. 
While  two  generations  of  men  were  passing  across 
the  scene,  the  political  problems  of  Massachusetts 
were  assimilated  to  those  of  Virginia.  In  spite  of 
all  the  other  differences,  great  as  they  were,  there 
was  a  likeness  in  the  struggles  between  the  popular 
legislature  and  the  royul  governor  which  subordi- 
Dated  them  all.     It  was  this  similarity  of  experi« 


THE  TYRANNY  OF  ANDROS.  277 

ence,  during  the  eighteenth  century,  that  brought 
these  two  foremost  colonies  into  cordial  alliance 
during  the  struggle  against  George  III.,  and  thus 
made  it  possible  to  cement  all  the  colonies  together 
in  the  mighty  nation  whose  very  name  is  fraught 
with  so  high  and  earnest  a  lesson  to  mankind,-^ 
the  United  States  ! 

For  such  a  far-reaching  result,  the  temporary 
humiliation  of  Massachusetts  was  a  small  price  to 
pay.  But  it  was  not  until  long  after  the  accession 
of  William  III.  that  things  could  be  seen  in  these 
grand  outlines.  With  his  coronation  began  the 
struggle  of  seventy  years  between  France  and 
England,  far  grander  than  the  struggle  between 
Rome  and  Carthage,  two  thousand  years  earlier, 
for  primacy  in  the  world,  for  the  prerogative  of 
determining  the  future  career  of  mankind.  That 
warfare,  so  fraught  with  meaning,  was  waged  as 
much  upon  American  as  upon  European  gg^jgof  tha 
ground ;  and  while  it  continued,  it  was  H^^otu^n 
plainly  for  the  interest  of  the  British  ^''^y^'^ 
government  to  pursue  a  conciliatory  policy  toward 
its  American  colonies,  for  without  their  whole- 
hearted assistance  it  could  have  no  hope  of  success. 
As  soon  as  the  struggle  was  ended,  and  the  French 
power  in  the  colonial  world  finally  overthrown,  the 
perpetual  quarrels  between  the  popular  legislatures 
and  the  royal  governors  led  immediately  to  the 
Stamp  Act  and  the  other  measures  of  the  British/ 
government  that  brought  about  the  American  rev- 
olution. People  sometimes  argue  about  that  revo- 
lution as  if  it  had  no  past  behind  it  and  was  simply 
the  result  of  a  discussion  over  abstract  principles* 


278    THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

We  can  now  see  that  while  the  dispute  involved 
an  abstract  principle  of  fundamental  importance  to 
mankind,  it  was  at  the  same  time  for  Americans 
illustrated  by  memories  sufficiently  concrete  and 
real.  James  Otis  in  his  prime  was  no  further  dis- 
tant from  the  tyranny  of  Andros  than  middle-aged 
men  of  to-day  are  distant  from  the  Missouri  Com- 
promise. The  sons  of  men  cast  into  jail  along  with 
John  Wise  may  have  stood  silent  in  the  moonlight 
on  Griffin's  Wharf  and  looked  on  while  the  con- 
tents of  the  tea-chests  were  hurled  into  Boston 
harbour.  In  the  events  we  have  here  passed  in 
review,  it  may  be  seen,  so  plainly  that  he  who  runs 
may  read,  how  the  spirit  of  1776  was  foreshad- 
owed  in  1689. 


BIBLIOGRAPHICAL  NOTE. 


An  interesting  account  of  the  Barons'  War  and  the  meet* 
ing  of  the  first  House  of  Commons  is  given  in  Prothero's 
Simon  de  Montfort,  Loudon,  1877.  For  Wyclif  and  the 
Lollards,  see  Milnian's  Latin  Christianity,  vol.  vii. 

The  ecclesiastical  history  of  the  Tudor  period  may  best 
be  studied  in  the  works  of  John  Strype,  to  wit,  Historical 
Memorials,  6  vols.  ;  Annals  of  the  Reformation,  7  vols.  ; 
Lives  of  Cranmer,  Parker,  Whitgift,  etc.,  Oxford,  1812-28. 
See  also  Buruet's  History  of  the  Reformation  of  the  Church  of 
England,  3  vols.,  London,  1679-1715  ;  Neal's  History  of 
the  Puritans,  London,  1793  ;  Tulloch,  Leaders  of  the  Refor- 
tnation,  Boston,  1859.  A  vast  mass  of  interesting  informa- 
tion is  to  be  found  in  The  Zurich  Letters,  comprising  the 
Correspondence  of  Several  English  Bishops,  and  Others,  with 
tome  of  the  Helvetian  Reformers,  published  by  the  Parker 
Society,  4  vols.,  Cambridge,  Eng.,  1845-46.  Hooker's 
Ecclesiastical  Polity  was  published  in  London,  1594  ;  a  new 
edition,  containing  two  additional  books,  the  first  complete 
edition,  was  published  in  1622. 

For  the  general  history  of  Engknd  in  the  seventeenth 
century,  there  are  two  modem  works  which  stand  far  above 
all  others,  —  Gardiner's  History  of  England,  10  vols.,  Lon- 
don, 1883-84  ;  and  Masson's  Life  of  Milton,  narrated  in  con- 
nection with  the  Political,  Ecclesiastical,  and  Literary  Historj 
of  his  Time,  6  vols.,  Cambridge,  Eng.,  1859-80.  These 
are  books  of  truly  colossal  erudition,  and  written  in  a  spirit 
of  judicial  fairness.  Mr.  Gardiner's  ten  volumes  cover  the 
forty  years  from  the  accession  of  James  L  to  the  beginning 
of  the  Civil  War,  1603-1643.  Mr.  Gardiner  has  lately  pub- 
lished  the  first  two  volumes  of  his  history  of  the  Civil  Wari 


280  BIBLIOGRAPHICAL  NOTE. 

and  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  he  will  not  stop  until  he  reaches 
the  accession  of  William  and  Mary.  Indeed,  such  books  as 
his  ought  never  to  stop.  My  friend  and  colleague,  Prof. 
Hosmer,  tells  me  that  Mr.  Gardiner  is  a  lineal  descendant 
of  Cromwell  and  Ire  ton.  His  little  book,  The  Puritan  Rev- 
olution, in  the  "  Epochs  of  History  "  series,  is  extremely  use- 
ful, and  along  with  it  one  should  read  Airy's  The  English 
Restoration  and  Louis  XIV.,  in  the  same  series,  New  York, 
1889.  The  best  biography  of  Cromwell  is  by  Mr.  AUanson 
Picton,  London,  1882  ;  see  also  Frederic  Harrison's  Crom- 
well, London,  1888,  an  excellent  little  book.  Hosmer's  Young 
Sir  Henry  Vane,  Boston,  1888,  should  be  read  in  the  same 
connection  ;  and  one  should  not  forget  Carlyle's  Cromwell. 
See  also  TuUoch,  English  Puritanism  and  its  Leaders,  1861, 
and  Rational  Theology  and  Christian  Philosophy  in  Eng- 
land in  the  Seventeenth  Century,  1872  ;  Skeats,  History  of  the 
Free  Churches  of  England,  London,  1868  ;  Mountfield,  The 
Church  and  Puritans,  London,  1881.  Dexter's  Congrega- 
tionalism of  the  Last  Three  Hundred  Years,  New  York,  1880, 
is  a  work  of  monumental  importance. 

On  the  hLstory  of  New  England  the  best  general  works 
are  Palfrey,  History  of  New  England,  4  vols.,  Boston,  1858- 
75  ;  and  Doyle,  The  English  in  America  —  The  Puritan 
Colonies,  2  vols.,  London,  1887.  In  point  of  scholarship  Dr. 
Palfrey's  work  is  of  the  highest  order,  and  it  is  written  in 
an  interesting  style.  Its  only  shortcoming  is  that  it  deals 
somewhat  too  leniently  with  the  faults  of  the  Puritan  theoc- 
racy, and  looks  at  tilings  too  exclusively  from  a  Massachu- 
setts point  of  view.  It  is  one  of  the  best  histories  yet 
written  in  America.  Mr.  Doyle's  work  is  admirably  fair  and 
impartial,  and  is  based  throughout  upon  a  careful  study  of 
original  documents.  The  author  is  a  Fellow  of  All  Souls 
College,  Oxford,  and  has  apparently  made  American  liistopy 
his  specialty.  His  work  on  the  Puritan  colonies  is  one  of  a 
series  which  when  completed  will  cover  the  whole  story  of 
English  colonization  in  America.  I  have  looked  in  vain  in 
his  pages  for  any  remark  or  allusion  indicating  that  he  has 
ever  visited  America,  and  am  therefore  incUned  to  think 
that  he  has  not  done  so.     He  now  and  then  makes  a  slight 


BIBLIOGRAPHICAL  NOTE.  281 

error  snch  as  would  not  be  likely  to  be  made  by  a  native  of 
New  England,  but  this  is  very  seldom  The  accuracy  and 
thoroughness  of  its  research,  its  judicial  temper,  and  its 
philosophical  spirit  make  Mr.  Doyle's  book  in  some  respects 
the  best  that  has  been  written  about  New  England. 

Among  original  authorities  we  may  beg^n  by  citing  John 
Smith's  Description  of  New  England,  1616,  and  New  Eng^ 
land^s  Trial,  1622,  contained  in  Arber's  new  edition  of 
Smith's  works,  London,  1884.  Bradford's  narrative  of  the 
founding  of  Plymouth  was  for  a  long  time  supposed  to  be 
lost.  Nathaniel  Morton's  New  England's  Memorial,  pub- 
lished in  1669,  was  little  more  than  an  abridgment  of  it. 
After  two  centuries  Bradford's  manuscript  was  discovered, 
and  an  excellent  edition  by  Mr.  Charles  Deane  was  published 
in  the  Massachusetts  Historical  Collections,  4th  series,  vol.  iii., 
1856.  Edward  Winslow's  Journal  of  the  Proceedings  of  the 
English  Plantation  settled  at  Plymouth,  1622,  and  Good  News 
from  New  England,  1624,  are  contained,  with  other  valu- 
able materials,  in  Young's  Chronicles  of  the  Pilgrim  Fathers, 
Boston,  1844.  See  also  Shurtleff  and  Pulsifer,  Records  oj 
Plymouth,  12  vols.,  ending  with  the  annexation  of  the  colony 
to  Massachusetts  in  1692  ;  Prince's  Chronological  History  of 
New  England,  ed.  Drake,  1852  ;  and  in  this  connection 
Hunter's  Founders  of  New  Plymouth,  London,  1854  ;  Steele's 
Life  of  Brewster,  Philadelphia,  1857  ;  Groodwin's  Pilgrim  Re- 
public, Boston,  1887  ;  Bacon's  Genesis  of  the  New  England 
Churches,  New  York,  1874  ;  Baylies's  Historical  Memoir, 
1830  ;  Thacher's  History  of  the  Town  of  Plymouth,  1832. 

Sir  Ferdinando  Gorges  wrote  a  Briefe  Narration  of  the 
Originall  Undertakings  of  the  advancement  of  plantations  into 
the  parts  of  America,  especially  showing  the  beginning,  progress, 
and  continuance  of  that  of  New  England,  London,  1658,  con- 
tained in  his  grandson's  collection  entitled  America  Painted 
<0  the  Life.  Thomas  Morton,  of  Merryniount,  gave  his  own 
view  of  the  situation  in  his  New  English  Canaan,  which  liaa 
been  edited  for  the  Prince  Society,  with  great  learning,  by 
C.  F.  Adams.  Samuel  Maverick  also  had  his  say  in  a  valu- 
able pamphlet  entitled  A  Description  of  New  England,  which 
has  only  come  to  light  since  1875  and  has  been  edited  by 


282  BIBLIOGRAPHICAL  NOTE. 

Mr.  Deane.  Maverick  is,  of  course,  hostile  to  the  Puritans. 
See  also  Lechford's  Plain  Dealing  in  New  England,  ed.  J.  H. 
Trumbull,  1867. 

The  earliest  history  of  Massachusetts  is  by  Winthrop  him- 
self, a  work  of  priceless  value.  In  1790,  nearly  a  century 
and  a  half  after  the  author's  death,  it  was  published  at  Hart- 
ford. The  best  edition  is  that  of  1853.  In  1869  a  valuable 
life  of  Winthrop  was  published  by  his  descendant  Robert 
Winthrop.  Hubbard's  History  of  New  England  (^Mass.  Hist. 
Coll.,  2d  series,  vols,  v.,  vi.)  is  drawn  largely  from  Winthrop 
and  from  Nathaniel  Morton.  There  is  mueh  that  is  sugges- 
tive in  William  Wood's  New  England's  Prospect,  1634,  and 
Edward  Johnson's  Wonder-working  Providence  of  Zion't 
Saviour  in  New  England,  1654  ;  the  latter  has  been  ably 
edited  by  W.  F.  Poole,  Andover,  1867.  The  records  of  the 
Massachusetts  government,  from  its  founding  in  1629  down 
to  the  overthrow  of  the  charter  in  1684,  were  edited  by  Dr. 
Shurtleff  in  6  vols,  quarto,  1853-54  ;  and  among  the  docu- 
ments in  the  British  Record  Office,  published  since  1855, 
three  volumes —  Calendar  of  State  Papers,  Colonial  America, 
vol.  i.,  1574-1660  ;  vol.  v.,  1661-1668  ;  vol.  vii.,  1669  — 
are  especially  useful.  Of  the  later  authorities  the  best  is 
Hutchinson's  History  of  Massachusetts  Bay,  the  first  volume 
of  which,  coming  down  to  1689,  was  published  in  Boston  in 
1764.  The  second  volume,  continuing  the  narrative  to  1749, 
was  published  in  1767.  The  third  volume,  coming  down  to 
1774,  was  found  among  the  illustrious  author's  MSS.  after 
his  death,  and  was  published  in  London  in  1828.  Hutchin- 
Bon  had  access  to  many  valuable  documents  since  lost,  and 
his  sound  judgment  and  critical  acumen  deserve  the  highest 
praise.  In  1769  he  published  a  volume  of  Original  Papers, 
illustrating  the  period  covered  by  the  first  volume  of  his  his- 
tory. Many  priceless  documents  perished  in  the  shameful 
sacking  of  his  house  by  the  Boston  rioters,  Aug.  26,  1765. 
The  second  volume  of  Hutchinson's  History  was  continued 
to  1764  by  G.  R.  Minot,  2  vols.,  1798,  and  to  1820  by  Alden 
Bradford,  3  vols.,  1822-29.  Of  recent  works,  the  best  is 
Barry's  History  of  Massachusetts,  3  vols.,  1855-57.  Many 
original  authorities  are  collected  in  Young's  Chronicles  of 


BIBLIOGRAPHICAL  NOTE.  283 

Massachusetts,  Boston,  1846.  Cotton  Mather's  Magnolia 
Christi  Americana,  London,  1702  (reprinted  in  1820  and 
1853),  though  crude  and  uncritical,  is  full  of  interest. 

Many  of  the  early  Massachusetts   documents   relate  to 
Maine.     Of  later  books,  especial  mention  should  be  made 
of  Folsom's  History  of  Saco  and  Biddeford,  Saco,  1830 
Willis's  History  of  Portland,  2  vols.,  1831-33  (2d  ed.  18G5) 
Memorial  Volume  of  the  Popham  Celebration,  Portland,  1862 
Chamberlain's  Maine,  Her  Place  in  History,  Augusta,  1877. 
On   New  Hampshire   the  best  general  work  is    Belknap's 
History  of  New  Hampshire,  3  vols.,  Phila.,   1784-92  ;    the 
appendix  contains  many  original  documents,  and  others  are 
to  be  found  in  the  New  Hampshire  Historical  Collections,  8 
vols.,  1824-66. 

The  Connecticut  Colonial  Records  are  edited  by  Dr.  J.  H. 
Trumbull,  12  vols.,  1850-82.  The  Connecticut  Historical 
Society's  Collections,  1860-70,  are  of  much  value.  The  best 
general  work  is  Trumbull's  History  of  Connecticut,  2  vols., 
Hartford,  1797.  See  also  Stiles's  Ancient  Windsor,  2  vols., 
1859-63  ;  Cothren's  Ancient  Woodbury,  3  vols.,  1854-79. 
Of  the  Pequot  War  we  have  accounts  by  three  of  the  prin- 
cipal actors.  Mason's  History  of  the  Pequod  War  is  in  the 
Mass.  Hist.  Coll.,  2d  series,  vol.  viii.  ;  Underhill's  News  from 
America  is  in  the  3d  series,  vol.  vi.  ;  and  Lyon  Gardiner's 
narrative  is  in  the  3d  series,  vol.  iii.  In  the  same  volume 
with  Underbill  is  contained  A  True  Relation  of  the  late  Bat- 
tle fought  in  New  England  between  the  English  and  the  Pequod 
Savages,  by  Philip  Vincent,  London,  1638.  The  New  Haven 
Colony  Records  are  edited  by  C.  J.  Hoadly,  2  vols.,  Hart- 
ford, 1857-58.  See  also  the  New  Haven  Historical  Society's 
Papers,  3  vols.,  1865-80  ;  Lambert's  History  of  New  Haven, 
1838  ;  Atwater's  History  of  New  Haven,  1881  ;  Levermore's 
Republic  of  New  Haven,  Baltimore,  1886  ;  Johnston's  Con- 
necticut, Boston,  1887.  The  best  account  of  the  Blue  Laws  is 
by  J.  H.  Trumbull,  The  True  Blue  Laws  of  Connecticut  and 
Neto  Haven,  and  the  False  Blue  Laics  invented  by  the  Rev. 
Samuel  Peters,  etc.,  Hartford,  1876.  See  also  Hinman'a 
Blue  Laws  of  New  Haven  Colony,  Hartford,  1838  ;  Barber's 
History  and  Antiquities  of  Neto  Haven,  1831  ;  Peters 's  Hi*- 


284  BIBLIOGRAPHICAL  NOTE. 

tory  of  Connecticut,  London,  1781.  The  story  of  the  regi- 
cides is  set  forth  in  Stiles's  History  of  the  Three  Judges  [the 
third  being  Colonel  Dixwell],  Hartford,  1794  ;  see  also  the 
Mather  Papers  in  Mass.  Hist.  Coll.,  4th  series,  vol.  viii. 

The  Rhode  Island  Colonial  Records  are  edited  by  J.  R. 
Bartlett,  7  vols.,  1856-62.  One  of  the  best  state  histories 
ever  written  is  that  of  S.  G.  Arnold,  History  of  the  State  of 
Rhode  Island  and  Providence  Plantations,  2  vols.,  New  York, 
1859-60.  Many  valuable  documents  are  reprinted  in  the 
Rhode  Island  Historical  Society's  Collections.  The  History  of 
New  England,  with  particular  reference  to  the  denomination 
called  Baptists,  by  Rev.  Isaac  Backus,  3  vols.,  1777-96,  has 
much  that  is  valuable  relating  to  Rhode  Island.  The  series 
of  Rhode  Island  Historical  Tracts,  issued  since  1878  by  Mr. 
S.  S.  Rider,  is  of  g^eat  merit.  Biographies  of  Roger  Wil- 
liams have  been  written  by  J.  D.  Knowles,  1834  ;  by  William 
Gammell,  1845  ;  and  by  Romeo  Elton,  1852.  Williams's 
works  have  been  republished  by  the  Narragansett  Club  in 
6  vols.,  1866.  The  first  volume  contains  the  valuable  Key 
to  the  Indian  Languages  of  America,  edited  by  Dr.  Trum- 
bull. Williams's  views  of  religious  liberty  are  set  forth  in 
his  Bloudy  Tenent  of  Persecution,  London,  1644  ;  to  which 
John  Cotton  replied  in  The  Bloudy  Tenent  washed  and  made 
White  in  the  Blood  of  the  Lamb,  London,  1647  ;  Williams's 
rejoinder  was  entitled  The  Bloudy  Tenent  made  yet  more 
Bloudy  through  Mr.  Cotton's  attempt  to  Wash  it  White,  London, 
1652.  The  controversy  was  conducted  on  both  sides  with  a 
candour  and  courtesy  rare  in  that  age.  The  titles  of  Wil- 
liams's other  principal  works,  George  Fox  digged  out  of  his 
Burrowes,  Boston,  1676  ;  Hireling  Ministry  none  of  Christ's, 
London,  1652  ;  and  Christenings  make  not  ChrUtians,  1645  ; 
sufficiently  indicate  their  character.  The  last-named  tract 
was  discovered  in  the  British  Museum  by  Dr.  Dexter  and 
edited  by  him  in  Rider's  Tracts,  No.  xiv.,  1881.  The  treat- 
ment of  Roger  Williams  by  the  government  of  Massa^ 
chusetts  is  thoroughly  discussed  in  Dexter's  As  to  Roger 
Williams,  Boston,  1876.  See  also  G.  E.  Ellis  on  "  The 
Treatment  of  Intruders  and  Dissentients  by  the  Founders 
of  Massachusetts,"  in  Lowell  Lectures,  Boston,  1869. 


BIBLIOGRAPHICAL  NOTE.  285 

The  case  of  Mrs.  Hutchinson  is  treated,  from  a  hostile 
and  somewhat  truculent  point  of  view,  in  Thomas  Welde's 
pamphlet  entitled  A  Short  Story  of  the  Rise,  Reign,  and  Ruin 
of  Antinomians,  Familists,  and  Libertines  that  infected  the 
Churches  of  New  England,  London,  1644.  It  was  answered 
in  an  anonymous  pamphlet  entitled  Mercurius  Americanus, 
republished  for  the  Prince  Society,  Boston,  1876,  with  prefa- 
tory notice  by  C.  H.  Bell.  Cotton's  view  of  the  theocracy 
may  be  seen  in  his  Milk  for  Babes,  draion  out  of  the  Breasts 
of  both  Testaments,  London,  1646  ;  Keyes  of  the  Kingdom  of 
Heaven ;  and  Way  of  the  Congregational  Churches  Cleared, 
London,  1648.  See  also  Thomas  Hooker's  Survey  of  the 
Summe  of  Church  Discipline,  London,  1648.  The  intolerant 
spirit  of  the  time  finds  quaint  and  forcible  expression  in 
Nathaniel  Ward's  satirical  book,  The  Simple  Cobbler  of  Ag- 
gawam,  1647. 

For  the  Gorton  controversy  the  best  original  authorities 
are  his  own  book  entitled  Simplicitie's  Defence  against  Seven- 
headed  Polity,  London,  1646  ;  and  Winslow's  answer  en- 
titled Hypocracie  Unmasked,  London,  1646.  See  also 
Mackie's  Life  of  Samuel  Gorton,  Boston,  1845,  and  Bray- 
ton's  Defence  of  Samuel  Gorton,  in  Rider's  Tracts,  No.  xvii. 

For  the  early  history  of  the  Quakers,  see  Robert  Bar- 
clay's Inner  Life  of  the  Religious  Societies  of  the  Common- 
wealth, London,  1876,  —  an  admirable  book.  See  also  New 
England  a  Degenerate  Plant,  1669  ;  Bishop's  New  England 
judged  by  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord,  1661  ;  Sewel's  History  of  the 
Quakers,  1722  ;  Besse's  Sufferings  of  the  Quakers,  1753  ; 
The  Popish  Inquisition  newly  erected  in  New  England,  Lon- 
don, 1659  ;  The  Secret  Works  of  a  Cruel  People  made  Mani- 
fest, 1659  ;  and  the  pamphlet  of  the  martyrs  Stevenson  and 
Robinson,  entitled  A  Call  from  Death  to  Life,  1660.  John 
Norton's  view  of  the  case  was  presented  in  his  book,  The 
Heart  of  New  England  Rent  at  the  Blasphemies  of  the  Present 
Generation,  London,  1660.  See  also  J.  S.  Pike's  New  Puri- 
tan, New  York,  1879  ;  Hallowell's  Pioneer  Quakers,  Boston, 
1887;  and  his  Quaker  Invasion  of  Massachusetts,  Boston, 
1883  ;  Brooks  Adams,  The  Emancipation  of  Massachusetts, 
Boston,  1887  ;  Ellis,  The  Puritan  Age  and  Rule,  Boston, 
1888. 


286  BIBLIOGRAPHICAL  NOTE. 

Some  additional  light  upon  the  theocratic  idea  may  be 
found  in  a  treatise  by  the  apostle  Eliot,  The  Christian  Com- 
monwealth ;  or,  the  Civil  Polity  of  the  Rising  Kingdom  of 
Jesus  Christ,  London,  1659.  An  account  of  Eliot's  mission- 
ary work  b  given  in  The  Day  breaking,  if  not  the  Sun  rising, 
of  the  Gospel  with  the  Indians  in  New  England,  London, 
1647  ;  and  The  Glorious  Progress  of  the  Gospel  amongst  the 
Indians  in  New  England,  1649.  See  also  Shepard's  Clear 
Sunshine  of  the  Gospel  breaking  forth  upon  the  Indians,  1648  ; 
imd  Whitfield's  Light  appearing  more  and  more  towards  the 
Perfect  Day,  1651. 

The  principal  authority  for  Philip's  war  is  Hubbard's 
Present  State  of  New  England,  being  a  Narrative  of  the  Trou- 
bles with  the  Indians,  1677.  Church's  Entertaining  Passages 
relating  to  Philip's  War,  published  in  1716,  and  republished 
in  1865,  with  notes  by  Mr.  Dexter,  is  a  charming  book.  See 
also  Mrs.  Rowlandson's  True  History,  Cambridge,  Mass., 
1682  ;  Mather's  Brief  History  of  the  War,  1676  ;  Drake's  Old 
Indian  Chronicle,  Boston,  1836  ;  Gookin's  Historical  ColleC' 
turns  of  the  Indians  in  New  England,  1674  ;  and  Account  of 
the  Doings  and  Sufferings  of  the  Christian  Indians,  in  Archoe- 
ologia  Americana,  vol.  ii.  Batten's  Journal  is  the  diary  of 
a  citizen  of  Boston,  sent  to  England,  and  is  now  in  MS. 
among  the  Colonial  Papers.  Mrs.  Mary  Pray's  letter  (Oct. 
20,  1675)  is  in  Mass.  Hist.  Coll.,  5th  series,  vol.  i.  p.  105. 

The  great  storehouse  of  information  for  the  Andros  period 
is  the  Andros  Tracts,  3  vols.,  edited  for  the  Prince  Society 
by  W.  H.  Whitmore.  See  also  Sewall's  Diary,  Mass.  Hist. 
Coll.,  5th  series,  vols,  v.-viii.  Sewall  has  been  appropri- 
ately called  the  Puritan  Pepys.  His  book  is  a  mirror  of 
the  state  of  society  in  Massachusetts  at  the  time  when  it 
was  beginning  to  be  felt  that  the  old  theocratic  idea  had 
been  tried  in  the  balance  and  found  wanting.  There  is  a 
wonderful  charm  in  such  a  book.  It  makes  one  feel  as  if 
one  had  really  "  been  there  "  and  taken  part  in  the  homely 
scenes,  full  of  human  interest,  which  it  so  naively  portrays. 
Anne  Bradstreet's  works  have  been  edited  by  J.  H.  Ellis, 
Charlestown,  1867. 

For  further  references  and  elaborate  bibliographical  dis- 


BIBLIOGRAPHICAL  NOTE.  287 

enssions,  see  Winsor's  Narrative  and  Critical  History  of 
America,  vol.  iii.  ;  and  his  Memorial  History  of  Boston,  4 
vols.,  Boston,  1880.  There  is  a  good  account  of  the  princi- 
pal New  England  writers  of  the  seventeenth  century,  with 
illustrative  extracts,  in  Tyler's  History  of  American  Litera- 
ture, 2  vols.,  New  York,  1878.  For  extracts  see  also  the  first 
two  volumes  of  Stedman  and  Hutchinson's  Library  of  Amer- 
ican Literature,  New  York,  1888. 

In  conclusion  I  would  observe  that  town  histories,  though 
seldom  written  in  a  philosophical  spirit  and  apt  to  be  quite 
amorphous  in  structure,  are  a  mine  of  wealth  for  the  philo- 
sophic student  of  history. 


INDEX. 


AboUtionisU  and  Repablicuu,  67. 

AoMlia,275. 

Achaian  lea)o>Ci  22. 

Adama,  C.  F.,  USnote. 

Adams,  Samuel,  105,  117,  175,  246. 

Adoption,  absorption  of  savage  tribes 
by,  209. 

AitoUan  league,  22. 

Albigenses,  40-12,  46. 

Alexander  (Wamsutta),  21L 

Alexandria,  6. 

Alfred,  18. 

Allyn,  John,  268. 

Alsace,  263. 

Anabaptists,  182. 

AndoTer,  233. 

Andros,  8ir  E.,  267-273 ;  Lady,  269. 

Antinomians,  117-120,  136,  154,  163, 
167,  24& 

Appleton,  Major  Samuel,  223. 

Aquedneck,  120,  166. 

Aquinas,  19. 

Architecture,  Oothic,  19. 

Armada,  the  Invincible,  61,  70,  102. 

Armagnacs,  36. 

Arminius,  24. 

Arnold,  Benedict,  goyemor  of  Rhode 
Island,  167. 

Arnold,  Matthew,  147. 

Arnold,  William,  167. 

Artaxerxes,  14. 

Arundel,  Earl  of,  114. 

Aahawonks.  squaw  sachem,  235. 

AiaUtants,  Board  of.  96, 106, 124  ;  dis- 
agreement with  deputies,  106-108, 
173,  187,  188. 

Assowamsett  Pond,  214. 

Awyria,  10,  12,  21. 

Atheism,  charges  of,  91. 

Attika,  12. 

Augustine,  Bp.  of  Hippo,  6. 

Augustine,  missionary  to  Britain, 
27. 

Austerfleld,  64. 

Austin,  Anne,  183. 

Arlgnon,  exile  of  popes  at,  4,  34. 

Bacon,  Sir  Nicholas,  61. 

h^con,  Roger,  20. 

B:»ron»'  War,  31. 

H  itf^n's  journal,  220.  ' 

Baxter,  Richard,  116. 


Beers,  Captain,  219. 

Bellingham,  Richard,  188L 

Benedict,  St.,  18. 

Bermudas,  161. 

Bible,  EUot's,  203. 

Bible,  English  version  of,  63-OS, 

Black,  Joseph,  152. 

Blackstone,  William,  92,  101. 

Blair  education  bill,  14. 

Blake,  Robei-t,  116. 

Bloody  Brook,  219,  220,  221. 

Blue  Laws,  136. 

Bogomilians,  39. 

Bohemia,  42. 

Boniface,  St.,  18. 

Bosnia,  42. 

Boston,  Lincolnshire,  63,  llOL 

Boston,  Mass.,  63,  104,  117,  US,  172| 

population  in  1680,  258. 
Boeworth,  battle  of,  99. 
Botolph's,  St.,  110. 
Braddock's  defeat,  206. 
Bradford,  William,  72,  73,  80,  83.  86, 

90,91. 
Bradford,  William,  the  younger,  220, 

223. 
Bradstreet,  Anne,  261. 
Bradstreet,  Simon,  220,  260,  261,  27& 
Branford,  136. 

Brewster,  William,  68,  71,  73,  80,  89 
Bridgewater,  233. 

Britain,  English  conquest  of,  26,  28. 
Brookfleld,  215-217,  230. 
Brown,  Robert,  66-68. 
Bryce,  James,  3. 

Buckingham,  Duke  of,  89,  97,  98. 
Buckle,  H.  T.,  152. 
Bunyan,  John,  51, 115,  244. 
Burguniiians,  French  party,  36. 
Burguudians,  tribe,  26. 
Burleigh,  Lord,  CI,  06,  08. 
BuniH,  Robert,  152. 
Byzantine  empire,  2. 

Cffisar,  C.  J.,  5,  8,  19,  28. 

Calverts  in  Maryland,  155. 

Calvin,  John,  57-59,  61. 

Cambridge,  Eng.,  62,  110 ;  meeting  ot 

PuriUuH  at,  101. 
Cainbriiige,     Mass.    (Newtown,    UA, 

105,  124,  125,)  126  ;  name  oUanged, 

110. 


290 


INDEX, 


Cambridge  Platform,  177. 
Canonchet,  221-225,  234. 
Canonicus,  85. 
Cape  Ann,  78,  92. 
Cap*  Cod,  76,  78,  81. 
Cape  Elizabeth,  78. 
Carlisle,  Earl  of,  113. 
Castle  Island.  113,  272. 
Cathari,  3»-42,  43. 

Catholics  excluded   from    House   of 
Commons,     248 ;     relations    with 
Quakers,  191. 
CaTendisb,  Thomsis,  61. 
Century,   fifth,   27  ;    sixth,  27 ;   thir- 
teenth, 19,  20,  30,  33,  38-40 ;  four- 
teenth, 35  ;    fifteenth,  35 ;    seven- 
teenth, 7, 36. 
Champlam's  defeat  of  the  Mohawks, 

206. 
Charles  the  Great,  4,  18,  29. 
Charles!.,  50,  95, 97-100, 111-113, 137, 

160,  161,  197,  246,  266. 
Charles  U.,   120,   191,  194,   195,  196, 
198,  247, 1253,  260,  262,  263,  264,  266, 
267. 
Charles  river,  78,  94. 
Charlestown,  104,  113. 
Charter  granted  to  Company  of  Massa- 
chusetts Bay,  96,  100 ;   transferred 
to  New  England,  102  ;  threatened 
by  Charles  I.,  113 ;  by  Long  Parliar 
ment,  161 ;  by  the  royal  commi»- 
sioners,  196 ;  annulled  by  Charles 
n.,  265 ;    effects  of  annulling   it, 
266 ;  new  one  granted  by  William 
and  Mary,  267. 
Charter  Oak,  268. 
<Sharters  of  English  towns  attacked  by 

Charles  II.,  264. 
Chaucer,  Geoffrey,  20. 
Chauncey,  Charles,  251. 
Cheeshahteaumuck,  Caleb,  202. 
Chelmsford,  233. 
Chicago,  208. 

ChUd,  Robert,  175-in,  192. 
Chlodwig,  ELing  of  the  Franks,  3. 
Christendom,  13. 

Christianity  destroyed  in  Britain,  27. 
Christison,  Wenlock,  189,  190,  197. 
Church,  Benjamin,  222,  225,  229,  235, 

237. 
Cicero,  M.  T.,  5. 

Civil  War  in  America,  22,  100,  note, 
Civills,  24. 
Clarke,  John,  162. 
Claverhouse,  John,  269. 
Cleveland,  Qrover,  24,  31. 
Climate  of  New  England,  77. 
Coke,  Sir  E.,  99,  114. 
Coligny,  Gaspard,  58. 
College,  Stephen,  263. 
Commons,  first  House  of,  31 ;  extra- 
ordinary scenes  in,  98,  99. 
Conant,  Roger,  92,  93,  95. 
Concord,  Indian  village  near,  204. 
Confederacy,  the  New  England,  153- 
198 ;  its  constitution,  168  ;  its  weak- 


ness, 159  ;  its  formation  involved  a 
tacit  assumption  of  sovereignty, 
160,  192 ;  weakened  by  suppression 
of  New  Haven,  198. 

Congregationalism  and  self-govent- 
ment,  59. 

Congress,  28. 

Connecticut,  founding  of,  122-128, 
249 ;  its  place  in  American  history, 
128 ;  obtains  a  charter,  195 ;  partly 
rescinded,  268 ;  bidden,  268 ;  re- 
stored, 274. 

Cooper,  J.  F.,  218. 

Corporate  responsibility,  173,  220. 

Cortes,  Spanish,  33. 

Cotton,  John,  110,  117,  118,  124,  135k 
136,  151,  178,  179. 

Council  for  New  England,  89,  112. 

County  meetings,  28. 

Covenant  of  grace  and  of  works,  118. 

Coventry,  Henry,  256. 

Coverdale,  Miles,  55. 

Cranfleld,  Edward,  259. 

Cromwell,  Oliver,  8,  45,  47,  61,  56,  68, 
62,  117,  137,  139,  160,  162,  185,  186, 
193,  228,  256,  259,  271. 

Cross  of  St.  George  cut  out  of  the  flag 
by  Endicott,  116. 

Gushing,  F.  H.,  208. 

Cuttyhunk,  76. 

Danforth,  Thomas,  220. 

Danish  invasions  of  England,  29. 

Dante,  6,  20. 

Dark  Ages,  18. 

Dartmouth,  Eng.,  81. 

Dartmouth,  Mass.,  massacre  at,  216. 

Davenport,  John,  135,  136,  194,  196, 

197,  251. 
Davison,  Sir  W.,  68. 
Death,  savage's  idea  of,  211. 
Death  penalty,  187. 
Deerfield,  217,  219. 
De  Forest's  History  of  the  Indian*  in 

Connecticut,  171,  210,  notet. 
Delaware  Indians,  206. 
Delegated  power,  16,  22. 
Delft  haven,  80. 
Democracy  discussed   between  Wln- 

throp  and  Hooker,  124. 
Denison,  George,  defeats  and  capture* 

Canonchet,  234. 
Deputies,  chamber  of,  106 ;  disagree* 

ments  with    Board   of   Assistants, 

106-108,  173,  187,  188. 
Descartes,  Ren^,  151. 
Despotism  the  weakest  form  of  gov< 

emmeut,  23. 
Devonshire,  63. 
Digges,  Sir  Dudley,  99. 
Diocletian,  17. 
Dorchester,  Eng.,  93. 
Dorchester,  Mass.,  104,  113,  124,  US^ 

126. 
Dorchester  adventurers,  92. 
Dorset,  63,  92. 
Dover,  N.H.,  119,  250. 


INDEX. 


291 


Doyle,  J.  A.,  172, 185,  25S,  2M.  note*. 

Drake,  Sir  F.,  61. 

Dudley,  Lord  Guilford,  103. 

Dudley,  Joaepb,  2S7,   258,  261,  262, 

266,  267,  270,  271,  272. 
Dudley,  Robert,  Earl  of  Laiceater,  103, 

258. 
Dudley,  Thomaa,  102,  103,  267. 
Duubar,  battle  of,  140,  193. 
Dunater,  Henry,  203. 
Dutch,  60,  70,  122,  123,  155,  162, 196. 
Dyer,  Maiy,  188, 189,  191. 

Salt  Anglia,  heresy  in,  62 ;  contribn- 

tions  to  the  Puritan  exodus,  63, 141 ; 

familiar  look  to  a  New  Englander, 

64. 
East  Oreenwich,  manor  of,  174. 
Eaton,  Tbeophilus,  134. 
Xecleidastical    beKiunings   of   Uaaaa- 

ohuaetts,  108, 109. 
"Ecclesiastical  Polity,"  by  Richard 

Hooker,  65. 
Edinburgh,  153. 
Education,  popular,  16L 
Edward  I.,  19,  44. 
Edward  II.,  40. 
Edward  HI.,  44. 
Edward  IV.,  64. 
Eliot,  Sir  John,  99,  100. 
EUot,  John,  apostle,  202-205,  208-210, 

237. 
Elizabeth,  44,  57,  59-«l,  66-68,  70; 

conversation  with    a   lady  of    the 

court,  60. 
Elizabeth  Islands,  76. 
Emmanuel  College,  110,  261. 
Empire,  Holy  Roman,  2-6,  19,  34. 
Endicott,  John,  94,  95,  97,  104,  108, 

115,  116,  151,  179, 183, 184,  187,  188, 

190,  191,  197. 
England,  importance  of  part  played 

by  her  in  seventeenth  century,  37, 

50-61 ;    union  with    Scotland,   21 ; 

church  of,  44. 
English  method  of  nation-making,  20- 

46  ;  nature  of  Puritan  exodus,  140. 
Episcopal  worship  forbidden  in  Massa- 

chusetu,  106,  2G0i    introduced  by 

Andros,  268,  269. 
Episcopius,  73. 
Erasmus,  66. 
Essex,  county  of,  G3. 
Essex,  Earl  of,  88. 
Ethical  nature  of  the  Puritan  ideal, 

147. 
Exeter,  N.  H.,  119,  259. 

Fairfax,  Sir  T.,  131. 

rairfleld,  133. 

FamiUsU,  1G4. 

Federal  Convention  of  1788,  128. 

Federalism,  pacific  tendency  of,  21, 22. 

Ferdinand  of  Aragon,  5,  57. 

Feudalism,  its  destruction,  36. 

Fllmer,  Sir  R.,  2G4. 

Flsber,  Mary,  183,  184. 


Fleet  street,  tnmnlt  in,  67. 

Florida,  Huguenots  massacred  in,  61. 
79. 

Fortune,  sliip,  83. 

Fox,  George,  179. 

France,  36 ;  damaged  by  persecution 
of  Albigenses  and  Huguenots,  40, 42, 
46, 47  ;  failure  of  Reformation  in,  47. 

Francis  of  Assisi,  20-38. 

Francis  II.,  last  Roman  emperor,  S. 

Franklin,  Benjamin,  24. 

Franks,  26. 

Frederick  II.  of  Prussia,  48. 

Frederick  II.,  Roman  emperor,  19, 34, 

Freeman,  E.  A.,  19. 

French  in  America,  154,  274,  277. 

French  Revolution,  48,  61. 

Gardiner,  Sir  Christopher,  104, 109. 

Gardiner,  S.  R.,  60,  97,  100,  notu. 

Gauls,  21. 

Geneva,  57. 

George  III.,  273,  277. 

Germanic  invasions  of  Roman  empirei 

17-28. 
Gettysburg,  battle  of,  51. 
Gilbert,  Sir  H.,  61. 
Gladstone,  W.  E.,  31. 
Goffe,  WUliam,  193,  217,  218,  267. 
Gookin,  Daniel,  221. 
Gorges,  Sir  Ferdinando,  88, 89,  90,  92, 

94,  95,  104,  109,  112,  113,  119,  154, 

156,  156,  254,  256,  259. 
Gorges,  Ferdinando,  the  younger,  260. 
Gorges,  John,  95,  104. 
Gorges,  Robert,  95. 
Gorton,  Samuel,  162-174,  192. 
Gortonoges,  170. 
Gosnold,  Bartholomew,  76. 
Goths,  26. 

Grafton,  Indian  village  near,  204. 
Grants  of  territory,  conflicting,  W\ 

92,  94,  96,  104. 
Greek  cities,  12,  22,  248. 
Green,  J.  R.,  69,  note. 
Gregory  of  Tours,  19. 
Gregory  the  Great,  18. 
Gregory  VII.,  38. 
Gregory  XI.,  43. 
Grey,  Lady  Jane,  103. 
Grindal,  Edmund,  61. 
Groton,  233. 
Guiana,  79. 
Guises,  46,  66,  61. 
Gustavus,  Adolphus,  101. 

Hadley,  193,  233  ;  mysterious  strange! 

at,  217,  218. 
Halfway  covenant,  250,  252. 
Hamilton,  Alexander,  124. 
Hamilton,  Marquis  of,  112. 
Hampden,  John,  61,  lor>,  193. 
Hampton,  N.  H.,  119,  250. 
Hampton  Court,  conference  at,  70-7Ii 
Hardscrabble,  123. 
Hartford,  122,  126-128,  170,  289. 
Harvard,  John,  110. 


292 


INDEX. 


Harrard  College,  110, 117, 130, 176. 

Hatfield,  217,  233. 

Hawkins,  Sir  John,  61. 

Hell-huddle,  123. 

Hengest,  27. 

Henry  IV.  {England),  41. 

Henry  VH.,  35,  266. 

Henry  VIII.,  43,  44,  56. 

Henry  III.  (France),  46. 

Henry  IV.,  46. 

Hertfordshire,  135. 

Higginson,  Francis,  96,  108. 

High  Commission,  court  of,  109. 

HUdebrand,  38. 

History,  chaugea  in  the  study  of,  2,  9. 

Hobbes,  Thomas,  151. 

Holmes,  William,  122. 

Holland,  English  exiles  in,  68,  78,  74, 

135 ;  toleration  in,  74. 
Hooker,  Richard,  65. 
Hooker,  Thomas,  110,  124,  126,  127, 

128,  136. 
Hubbard,  William,  211,  218,  229,  234, 

257. 
Hudson  river,  94. 
Huguenots,  47,  60,  70,  74,  80,  93,  101, 

139;  in  Florida,  61,  79  ;  in  Massa- 
chusetts, 141. 
Hull,  63. 
Humane  feelings  allowed  to  develop 

through  decline  of  war,  100,  note, 

'iZl. 
Hume,  David,  152. 
Hunter,  John,  152. 
Hutchinson,  Anne,  117-120,  166,  188. 
Hutchinson,  Edward,  215. 
Hutchinson,  Thomas,  120,  218,  268. 
Hutton,  James,  152. 

•♦  Incorruptible  Key,"  Gorton's,  165, 

note. 
Indians,  20,  155  ;  their  dealings  with 

the    settlers,    199-210 ;    missionary 

work,  201-204,  208-210;   sold  into 

slavery,  237. 
Innocent  III.,  19,  34,  40,  42. 
Inquisition,  40-42,  153. 
Inquisitorial  administration  of  justice, 

250. 
Ipswich,  63,  270. 
Iroquois  league,  121,  206. 
Isabella  the  Catholic,  57. 
Italy  consolidated  under  Rome,  12. 

Jftbberwok,  137. 

James  I.,  41,  52,  68-71,  80,  87,  89,  97, 

161. 
James  II.,  191,  2C7,  271,  272,  275. 
James  the  Printer,  238. 
Jamestown,  77,  106. 
Jefferson,  Thomas,  24,  117,  124,  246. 
Jeffreys,  George,  264. 
Jesus  College,  202. 
Jingliis  Khan,  50. 
John,  King  of  England,  31. 
Johnson,  Edward,  172,  243. 
Johnston,  Alexander,  128,  nole. 


Jurr  trial   abandoned   in  the  New 

Haven  colony,  136,  250. 
Justinian,  2. 

Keayne,  Robert,  and  his  pig,  106-108. 

Kennebec  river,  76,  77,  94. 

Kent,  135. 

Keroualle,  Ixniise  de,  263. 

Kings  have  become  harmless,  32. 

King's  Chapel  founded,  269. 

"  King's  Missive,"  the,  191. 

Kingdoms,  modem  growth  of,  34-36. 

Kirk,  the  Scotch,  153. 

Kirke,  Percy,  266,  267. 

Knighton,  Henry,  42. 

Knox,  John,  56. 

Kynaxa,  battle  of,  10. 

Lancaster,  215,  216,  230. 

La  Salle,  274. 

Latimer,  Hugh,  44,  45,  51,  55. 

Laud,  William,  109,  114,  115, 135. 

Leddra,  William,  189. 

Lenox,  Earl  of,  89. 

Leoin.,4. 

Leverett,  John,  215,  255,  256,  260. 

Levermore,  C.  H.,  187,  note. 

Lewes,  battle  of,  31. 

Leyden,  home  of  the  Pilgrims,  73. 

Liberty,  religious,  not  the  object  of 

the  Puritan  exodus,  144-146. 
Light,  supernatural  or  inward,  118, 

180. 
Locke,  John,  48,  51. 
Lollards,  42-46,  52-56. 
London  Company,  75,  79,  81,  89t 
Londonderry,  N.  H. ,  141. 
Long  Parliament,  137. 
Longland,  John,  62. 
Lords  of  Trade,  255. 
Lorraine,  263. 
Lothrop,  Captain,  217,  219. 
Louis  IX.,  19. 
Louis  XII.,  5. 
Louis  XIII.,  98. 
Louis  XIV.,  36,  47,  80,  262,  263,  271, 

275. 
Lucullus's  villa,  1. 
Luther,  Martin,  44,  58,  05. 
Lydiaiis,  21. 
Lyell,  Sir  C,  152. 

Magna  Charta,  12, 127,  note. 

Maliomet  II.,  48. 

Maliomet  III.,  184. 

ManicliH'ans,  39. 

Map  of  New  England,  Smith's,  78 

Marathon,  139. 

Marblehead,  221. 

Marlborough,  233. 

Maraton  Moor,  51. 

Martha's  Vineyard,  76,  201,  204,  275. 

Mary  Stuart,  61. 

Mary  Tudor,  41,  57. 

Mason,  John,  captain  in  Pequot  war, 

131-133. 
Mason,  John,  grantee  of  lands  in  tha 


INDEX. 


298 


Placat«qua   cotmtry,  94,  112,  113, 

119, 154,  2M,  255,  259. 
Muon,  Robert,  255. 
BIaasacbusett«  annexes  New  Hunp- 

shire  ton-ns,  154,  259,  and   Maine, 

259;  population  in  1643,  169;   and 

in  1680,  258 ;  brought  into  sympa- 
thy with  Virginia,  276. 
Massachusetts  Bay,  Company  of,  96. 
Matta-wachmetU,   or    "  At-the-great 

Hill "  tribe,  120. 
Massasoit,  84,  116,  120,  211. 
Mather,  Cotton,  charges  against  the 

Quakers,   181 ;    remark   about  the 

theocratic  idea,  197. 
Mather,  Increase,  218,  219,  237,  251, 

257,  265,  272. 
Maverick,  Samuel,  90,  92,  104,  175, 

176,  192, 196. 
Mayflower,  ship,  49,  61,  SI,  90;  the 

compact  drawn  up  in  her  cabin,  127, 

note. 
Mayhew,  Thomas,  201. 
Massini,  51. 
Medfleld,  233. 
Media,  12. 
Melanchthon,  58. 
Melville,  Andrew,  69. 
Mendon,  215,  233,  238. 
Merrimack  river,  94,  259. 
Merrymount,  90,  91,  104,  112. 
Miantonomo,  68-72,  207,  221. 
Middle  class  in  England,  30. 
Middleborough,  214,  215,  233. 
Milford,  135,  136. 
Milman,  H.  H.,  43,  181,  note*. 
MUton,  John.  48,  51,  55,  185, 228,  264. 
Mohawks,  121 ,  122,  133,  206. 
Mohegans,  121,  122,  131,  133,  169-172, 

207,  209,  212,  234. 
Monadnock,  121. 

Monmouth,  Duke  of,  100,  260,  267. 
Montesquieu,  51. 
Montfort,  Simon  de,  31-33. 
Moors  in  Spain,  11,  37. 
Morton,    Thomas,    90,    91,   104,   109, 

174. 
Mount  Hope,  214,  215. 
Munster,  182. 
"Mugwump "  in  Eliot's  Bible,  203. 

Kantes,  Edict  of,  47,  141. 

Nantasket,  91. 

Nantucket,  201,  204. 

Napoleon,  48. 

NarragansettH,  85,  121,  131,  133,  168- 

172,  207,  'JOl),  212,  221-226,  234. 
Naseby,  battle  of,  31,  51,  193. 
Natick,  Indian  village,  204,  213. 
Nation-making,  7,  37. 
Naumkeag,  93,  95. 
Navigation  laws,  254,  266. 
Netherlands,  33. 
New  Amsterdam,  123, 196. 
Newark  founded,  190. 
"  New   Kngland's  Jona*  cast    up   at 

London,*^  177. 


"  New  England's  Salamander  dlscor* 

ered,"  177. 
New  Hampshire,  beginnings  of,  120, 

154,  259,  275. 
New  Haven  colony,  134-137  ;  annexed 

to  Connecticut,  192-196. 
Newhouse,  Thomas,  182. 
New  Netherlands,  122. 
Newport,  R.  I.,  120, 157,  166. 
New  South  Church,  252. 
Newtown,  tee  Cambridge,  Mass. 
Nichewaug,  121. 
NichoU,  Richard,  193, 196,  259. 
Nipmucks,  121,  209,  212, 215,  219,  228, 

230  233. 
Noddie's  Island,  92,  176. 
Norfolk,  63. 

Norman  conquest  of  England,  30. 
North,  Roger,  2&4. 
North  Virginia,  75-78. 
Northampton,  233. 
Norton,  John,  179,  180,  261,  261. 
Norwich,  scene  of  Miantouomo's  d*> 

feat  1C9. 
Nyantics,  121,  131. 

Odovakar,  1,  3,  48. 

Oldham,  John,  104,  125,  129. 

"  Old  Mortality,"  269. 

Old  South  Church,  182,  231,  252,  26S, 

269. 
Orestes,  1. 
Oriental  method  of  nation-making,  9- 

11,  14,  21. 
Otis,  James,  278. 
Oxford  university,  62,  110,  264 ;  pari 

liament,  263. 

Paine,  Thomas,  245. 

Palfrey,  J.  G.,  140,  201,  rwte. 

Papacy,  3,  34. 

Parkman,  F.,  206,  note,  212. 

Parliament  turned  out  of  doors  by 
Charles  I. ;  creates  a  board  of  com> 
missioners  for  superintending  colo- 
nial alTairs,  157 ;  question  as  to  ita 
authority  over  the  colonies,  160-162, 
174,  175. 

Paulicians,  39. 

Pawtuxet,  166,  167,  168,  234. 

Pembroke,  Earl  of,  89. 

Penn,  William,  191,  206. 

Pennsylvania,  why  so  long  unmolested 
by  Indians,  205-206. 

Penobscot  river,  78. 

Pension  jobl)ery,  14. 

Pequots,  121,  122,  128-133,  168,  199, 
204,  207,  210. 

Persecuting  spirit,  origin  of,  103. 

Persecution,  mildness  of,  in  Euglaadi 
40-43. 

Persia,  10,  12,  21, 

Petition  of  Right,  98,  99. 

Peters,  Rev.  Samuel,  136,  137. 

"  Peveril  of  the  Peak,"  218. 

Philip  Augustus,  40. 

PhiUp  LL,  of  Spain,  36,  57,  61. 


294 


INDEX. 


Philip  (Metacom),  211-216,  230-233, 
236-237,  239,  240 ;  hu  son,  232,  236. 

Picton,  J.  A.,  100,  note. 

Pierce,  Captain,  234. 

Pierson,  Abraham,  196. 

Pig,  Keayne'B,  106-108. 

Pilgrims  at  Leyden,  73,  79. 

Pine-tree  shillings,  192,  254. 

Piscataqua  river,  91,  94, 121,  259. 

Pitt,  WiUiam,  48. 

Plymouth  Company,  75,  77,  82,  86,  89. 

Plymouth  colony,  78,  82, 105 ;  popula- 
tion of.  8C ;  annexed  to  Massachu- 
setts, 275. 

Podunks,  209. 

Point  Judith,  121. 

Pokanokets,  see  Wampanoags. 

Pontiac's  war,  206,  212. 

Popham  colony,  77,  81. 

Portsmouth,  N.  H.,  119,  259. 

Portsmouth,  R.  I.,  120,  157,  166. 

Portland,  Oregon,  140. 

Prmmunire,  43. 

Pray,  Mary,  221. 

Praying  Indians,  204,  221,  238. 

Presbyterian  cabal,  162,  175-177. 

Presbyterianism,  66,  69,  71. 

Pride's  Purge,  177. 

Primitive  society,  8. 

Protective  tariffs,  14,  32. 

Protestantism,  beginnings  of,  37-42. 

Providence,  R.  I.,  116,  158,  166,  167, 
169,  172. 

Puritanism  as  a  militant  force,  7,  45, 
46,  51,  59,  243-247. 

Pym,  John,  51. 

Quakers,  162,  173;  their  opinions, 
179-181 ;  persecuted  in  Boston, 
182-190,  221 ;  they  win  the  victory, 
190,  197  ;  why  Charles  II.  defended 
them,  191  ;  their  relations  to  the 
Indians,  205,  206. 

Qiiincy,  Josiah,  111,  note. 

Quinnipiack,  135. 

Quinsigamond,  121. 

Raleigh,  Sir  W.,  76,  103. 

Randolph,  Edward,  218,  256-268,  262, 
265. 

Ratcliffe,  Robert,  270,  note. 

Rationalistic  spirit  among  the  Ptiri- 
tans  of  New  England  and  Scotland, 
150-163. 

Redemptioners,  142. 

Reformation  in  England,  42-57. 

Regicide  judges,  192-194,  218,  257. 

Religious  liber^  not  the  motive  of 
the  Puritan  exodus,  144-146. 

Representation,  no  taxation  without, 
31,  105. 

Representative  assemblies  unknown 
to  the  ancients,  16,  22 ;  found  gene- 
rally antong  the  Teutonic  tribes, 
26 ;  die  out  on  the  continent  of  Eu- 
rope, 33. 

Republicana  and  abolitionists,  67. 


Republics,  fallacy  of  the  notion  that 
they  must  be  small,  23. 

Respectable  character  of  the  migra- 
tion to  Kew  England,  141. 

Restitution,  edict  of,  101. 

Rhode  Island,  toleration  in,  164,  166  ; 
asks  for  a  charter,  157  ;  noble  atti- 
tude vrith  reference  to  Quakers, 
184-186 ;  obtains  a  charter,  196  ;  it  is 
partly  rescinded,  268 ;  restored,  274. 

Ribault,  Jean,  61. 

Rich,  Sir  N.,  99. 

Richard  H.,  42,  71. 

Roanoke  island.  111. 

Robinson,  John,  72,  73,  81,  108. 

Robinson,  William,  188. 

Robsart,  Amy,  103. 

Rochelle,  fall  of,  93,  101. 

Roman  church,  18-20,  38. 

Roman  empire,  when  did  it  come  to 
an  end,  1-5,  48,  49. 

Roman  method  of  nation-making,  12- 
21. 

Romulus  Augustus,  1. 

Roses,  war  of  the,  35,  56,  99. 

Rousseau,  J.  J. ,  51. 

Rowlandson,  Joseph,  230. 

Rowlandson,  Mary,  231-233,  239. 

Royal  Society  fotmded,  195. 

Rumford,  Count,  5. 

Russell,  Lord  Willia^^  264,  273. 

Sachem's  Plain,  171. 

St.  Giles's  Church,  Edinburgh,  113. 

Salem,  Mass.,  93,  95, 104, 108, 112, 115, 

116,  245. 
Salem,  Oregon,  140. 
Sandys,  Sir  E.,  79. 
Saasacus,  128-130,  132,  133,  212. 
Sausamon,  213,  214. 
Savoy,  42,  47. 
Say  and  Sele,  Lord,  123. 
Saybrook,  123,  125. 
Scituate,  176,  233. 

Scotland,  great  achievements  of,  152a 
Scott,  Sir  W.,  123,  152,  218,  269. 
Scottish  prisoners  sent  to  Boston,  140L 
Scrooby,  64,  71. 
Sedgmoor,  battle  of,  99. 
Separatists,  66-68,  72,  108. 
Servetus,  Michael,  58. 
Shaftesbury,  Lord,  263. 
Shakespeare,  William,  89. 
Shawmut  peninsula,  92. 
Shawomet,  168-174. 
Sheldon,  George,  218,  note. 
Shepard,  Tliomas,  203. 
Sherman,  Mrs. ,  and  the  stray  pig,  109< 

108. 
Shillings,  pine-tree,  192,  264. 
S)iipnioney,  113. 

Sidney,  Algernon,  48,  51, 240, 264, 274 
Sigismund,  Roman  emperor,  38. 
Skelton,  Samuel,  108. 
Slavery,  14. 
Smith,  Adam,  152. 
Smith,  John,  77-79,  82,  88. 


INDEX. 


295 


Bolemn  I'Mgue  aad  Corenaat,  IIS. 

Bomenet,  ^ 

Bouth«nipton,  81. 

Southampton,  E«rl  of,  89. 

Bouthold,  L.  T.,  136. 

Spun,  11,  36,  37. 

8p««dweU,  aUp,  80,  81. 

SpoOs  STStein,  14. 

Springfield,  126,  215,  220,  233. 

StagnAtion  of  the  stream  of  hnman 
Ufe,  17. 

Stamford,  120, 136. 

Stamp  Act  congreai,  32. 

8tan£«h,  Mile^  80,  82,  84. 

States  General,  33. 

Steele,  A.,  74,  note. 

Stein,  61. 

Steranson,  Marmaduke,  188. 

Stiles,  Ezra,  174,  note. 

Stirling,  Earl  of,  113. 

Stoughton,  William,  143,  220. 

Strafford,  Earl  of,  109,  116, 119. 

StubU,  WUliam,  25. 

Sadbuiy,  233. 

Sueri,  26. 

SoffoU,  63. 

Suffrage  restricted  to  church  mem- 
bers, in  Massachusetts,  109, 123, 175, 
194,  195,  248-262,  264,  258,  276  ;  in 
New  Haven,  136,  196,  260. 

Susquehannocks,  86,  206. 

Swanzey,  massacre  at,  214,  238. 

Switzerland,  21,33. 

Talcott,  Major,  completes  the  over- 
throw of  the  Narragansetts,  234. 

Tamerlane,  50. 

Tarratines,  121,  239. 

Taunton,  213,  215,  236. 

Tel-el-Keblr,  11. 

Templars,  40. 

Tentonic  Institutions  less  modified  in 
Kngland  than  in  Oermany,  29. 

Texas  seed-bill,  24. 

Thames  river.  Conn.,  121,  130. 

Thanksgiving,  83. 

Theocratic  ideal  of  the  Puritans,  146 ; 
broken  down,  197 ;  its  servioea  to 
poUtical  liberty,  247. 

Thirty  Years  War,  101. 

Thompson,  Benjamin,  6. 

TUly,  Count,  133. 

Toleration,  Dudley's  verses  on,  103 
Boger  Williams's  theory  of,  115 
views  of  Cotton  and  Winthrop,  178 
true  theory  expressed  by  Vane,  186. 

Torquemada,  38,  246. 

Torture,  how  the  Indian  likes  to  ea- 
joy  it,  231. 

Torvism  in  New   England,  birth  of, 

Toulouse,  Couats  of,  40. 

Tours,  battle  of,  139. 

Town-meetings,  27. 

Trajan,  19. 

Traatamare,  feuds  of  the,  36. 

TiMt,  Robert,  219,  223,  224,  MS. 


Tnrgot,  61. 

Turks,  11,  14. 

Turner,    Captain,    defeats   the    Hlpi 

mucks,  234. 
Tyndall,  William,  65. 
I^ranny  and  insurrection  in  Boston, 

270-273. 

Uncas,  131, 169-172,  209,  210. 
UnderhUl,  John,  118, 131-133. 
Union    among   colonies    needed   for 

military  reasons,  274. 
United  States,  21,  277. 
Universities,  Puritanism  in  the,  62. 

Vandals,  26. 

Vane,   Sir  Henry,  48,  116,  118,  119, 

1J9,  185,  246. 
Van  Twiller,  Wouter,  122. 
Vassall,  William,  176-177,  192. 
Verres,  Caius,  13. 
Virginia,  30,  75,  79,  93,  141,  142. 
Virginia  Company,  75 ;  suppressed  by 

James  I.,  161. 
Voltaire,  6,  61. 
Vulgate,  64. 

Wadsworth,  Capt.  Samuel,  230,  233. 

Wadsworth,  Capt  (Charter  Oak),  268. 

Waldron,  Major,  239. 

Walford,  Thomas,  104. 

Walsingham,  Sir  F.,  61. 

Wallenstein,  103. 

Walters,  Lucy,  260. 

Wampanoags,  84,  120,  209,  234. 

Wampum  as  a  legal  tender,  264. 

WardweU,  Lydia,  182. 

Warfare  not  an  essential  part  of  the 

English  method  of  nation-making, 

21-22  ;  with  savages  sure  to  be  truo> 

ulent,  228-229. 
Warwick,  174,  234. 
Warwick,  Earl  of,  167,  173,  261. 
Washington,  George,  31, 102, 139,  193. 
Washington,  Sir  Henry,  193. 
Watartown,  104,   106,  106,  124,   125» 

126. 
Wattaconoges,  170. 
Welde,  Thomas,  202. 
"  Wept  of  Wish-ton- Wish,"  218. 
Wequash,  204. 
Wessagusset,  90,  93. 
Weston,  Thomas,  90. 
Wethersfield,  126,  126. 
Weymouth,  attack  on,  233. 
Weymouth,  George,  76,  77,  88. 
WhaUey,  Edward,  192,  193,  218. 
White,  John,  93,  96,  97. 
White  trash,  142. 
Willard,  Samuel,  269,  272. 
Wlllard,  Simon,  216,  217,  272. 
William  the  Silent,  68,  68. 
William  III.,  272-274. 
Williams,   Roger,   114-116,   l.M,   164, 

157,  158,  166,  167,  170,  178,  184-18^ 

226,  248. 
Wilson,  Debomb,  182. 


296 


INDEX. 


Wilson,  John,  118, 188,  251. 
"Windsor,  Conn.,  122,  123,  125,  126. 
Winslow,  Edward,  85,  160,  177. 
Winslo-iT,  John,  272. 
Winslow,  Josiah,  199,  200,  213,  220, 

222  225  229. 
Winthrop,'  John,  102,   103,   106,  113, 

116,  117,  118, 119, 123, 124, 136,  141, 

146,  151,  174,  175,  178, 179,260,  252. 
Winthrop,  John,  the  younger,  123, 

186,  195,  220. 
Wise,  John,  271,  278. 
Wollastou,  Captain,  91. 


"  Wonder-working  Providence,"  243- 

247. 
Worcester,  battle  of,  140,  192;  cap 

ture  of,  193. 
Worcester,  Mass.,  215,  233. 
Wrentham,  233. 
Wyclif,  John,  42,  43,  52,  55,  59, 18L 

Yorkshire,  135. 
Torktown,  31. 

Zeno,  Roman  empeior,  & 
Zu£ii8,  306. 


95?9 


1  1 


UlOVEKi^ri  Y  OF  CAUFOKHUk 

AT 

iOS  ANGELES 


w«-rvr%  A  V3^r 


58  00764  9667 


A    001263  664