Skip to main content

Full text of "Leaves from Margaret Smith's journal in the province of Massachusetts Bay, 1678-9"

See other formats 


This is a digital copy of a book that was preserved for generations on library shelves before it was carefully scanned by Google as part of a project 
to make the world's books discoverable online. 

It has survived long enough for the copyright to expire and the book to enter the public domain. A public domain book is one that was never subject 
to copyright or whose legal copyright term has expired. Whether a book is in the public domain may vary country to country. Public domain books 
are our gateways to the past, representing a wealth of history, culture and knowledge that's often difficult to discover. 

Marks, notations and other marginalia present in the original volume will appear in this file - a reminder of this book's long journey from the 
publisher to a library and finally to you. 

Usage guidelines 

Google is proud to partner with libraries to digitize public domain materials and make them widely accessible. Public domain books belong to the 
public and we are merely their custodians. Nevertheless, this work is expensive, so in order to keep providing this resource, we have taken steps to 
prevent abuse by commercial parties, including placing technical restrictions on automated querying. 

We also ask that you: 

+ Make non-commercial use of the files We designed Google Book Search for use by individuals, and we request that you use these files for 
personal, non-commercial purposes. 

+ Refrain from automated querying Do not send automated queries of any sort to Google's system: If you are conducting research on machine 
translation, optical character recognition or other areas where access to a large amount of text is helpful, please contact us. We encourage the 
use of public domain materials for these purposes and may be able to help. 

+ Maintain attribution The Google "watermark" you see on each file is essential for informing people about this project and helping them find 
additional materials through Google Book Search. Please do not remove it. 

+ Keep it legal Whatever your use, remember that you are responsible for ensuring that what you are doing is legal. Do not assume that just 
because we believe a book is in the public domain for users in the United States, that the work is also in the public domain for users in other 
countries. Whether a book is still in copyright varies from country to country, and we can't offer guidance on whether any specific use of 
any specific book is allowed. Please do not assume that a book's appearance in Google Book Search means it can be used in any manner 
anywhere in the world. Copyright infringement liability can be quite severe. 

About Google Book Search 

Google's mission is to organize the world's information and to make it universally accessible and useful. Google Book Search helps readers 
discover the world's books while helping authors and publishers reach new audiences. You can search through the full text of this book on the web 



at |http : //books . google . com/ 



Jamvarj I9 1849. 

A LIST or BOOKS 



BKCBNTLT PUBLISHED BT 



WILLIAM D. TICKNOR & COMPANY, 

Comer of Wasfirnatoii antr Sc))ool Streets, 



BOSTON. 



ZiOKarsxiZ.o'W's posks. 



I. 

LONGFELLOW'S EVANGELINE ; a Tale of 

AcADiK. Juit pttbliihed. In one Tolome, I61110, price 75 eente. 
II. 

LONGFELLOW'S VOICES OF THE NIGHT. A 

New Edition. In one Tolume, 16mo, priee 75 cenU. 
111. 

LONGFELLOW'S BALLADS and Other Poems. 

A New Edition. In one volume) 16mo, priee 75 centi. 

IV. 

LONGFELLOW'S SPANISH STUDENT. A Play 

in Three AcU. A New Edition. In one volame, 16ino, price 75 cents. 

V. 

LONGFELLOW'S BELFRY OF BRUGES and 

OTUER POEMS. A New Edition. In one volnme, 16mo, price 75 cents 

VI. 

THE WAIF. A Collection of Poems. Edited by 

LoNorKLLow. A New Edition. In one volame, 16mo, price 75 cents. 

VII. 

THE ESTRAY. A Ck)llection of Poems. Edited 

by LoNorxLLow. In one volame, 16mo, price 75 cents. 



ZiOKaFSXiXiOW'S PB08B "WOBKS. 



I. 
LONGFELLOW'S OUTRE-MER. A Pilgrimaes 

Bejond the Sea. A New Edition. In on* voIuxda^ \%«a^v*^\qa tS^S!f^« 
II. 

LONGFELLOWS in?'E.^\0^. K^o^k»^^- ^ 

Ne w Edition, In one volume, I6mo, pric« %\.Q^. 



A LIST OF BOOKS RECENTLY PUBLISHED 



OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. Poems. In one 

volume, 16mo. Mew Edition, Enlarged. Just out. Price $1.00. 

ALFRED TENNYSON. Poems. A New Edition. 

Enlarged. In two volumes, Kimo, price $l.dO. 
III. 

ALFRED TENNYSON. The Pkincess. A Medley. 

Just out. In one volume, 16mo, price dO cents. 

IV. 

WILLIAM MOTHERWELL. Poems, Narrative 

and Lyrical. A New Edition, Enlarged. In one volume, I6mo, price 
75 cents. 

V. 

WILLIAM MOTHERWELL. Minstrelsy, An- 

ciBNT and Modern. With an HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION and 
M OTES. In two volumes, 16mo, price $1.50. 

RICHARD MONCKTON MILNES. Poems of 

Many Years. In one volume, 16mo, price 75 cenu. 

VII. 

LEIGH HUNT. Story of Rimini and Other Poems. 

In one volume, 16mo, price 50 cents. 

VIII. 

REJECTED ADDRESSES. From the 19th London 

Edition. Carefully Revised. With an Original Preface and Notes. 
hj Horace and James Smith. In one volume, 16mo, price 50 cents. 

IX. 

BARRY CORNWALL. English Songs and other 

Small Foems. In one volume, 16mo, price 75 cents. 
z. 

JOHN BOWRING. Matins and Vespers, with Hymns 

AND Occasional Devotional Pisces. In one volume, 32mo, cloth, 
gilt edges, price 37 1-3 cents. 

zi. 

GEORGE LUNT. The Age of Gold and Other 

Poems. In one volume, 16mo, price 50 cents. 

Zll. 

MARY E. HEWITT. Songs of Our Land and 

OTHBii Poems. In one volume, 16mo, price 75 cents. 

Zlll. 

T. BUCHANAN READ. Poems. In one volume, 

16mo, price 50 cents. 

MACa or TBM AMOVU POEMS AND PKOSI WSITIX08, MAT BB HAD IN 
VABIOUa BTTLBB OF BAXDBOm BUTOlHa. 



BT WILLIAM D. TICKNOR A; COMPANY. 



MZSOBXJEiAiraOUS. 



ALDERBROOK ; A Collection of Fanny Forester's 

ViLLAOB Sketches, Poems, etc. In two volumes, 12mo, with a fine 
Fortiait or the Author. A New Editioo, Enlarged. Just ouu 
II. 

BEN PERLEY POORE. The Rise and Fall op 

Louis Philippe, with Pen and Pencil Sketches of his Friends and hii 
Successors. Portraits. $1.00. 

III. 

F. W. P, GREENWOOD. Sermons of Consola- 

TioN. A New Edition, on very fine paper and large type. In one yol- 
ume, IGmo, price $1.00. 

IT. 

.CHARACTERISTICS OF WOMEN : Moral, Poet- 

icAL and Historical. By Mrs. Jameson. New Edition, Corrected and 
Enlarged. In one volume, ls2ino, price $1.00. 

V. 

JANE EYRE. An Autobiography. Edited by 

CuRRBR Bell. Fine Edition. In one volume, 16mo, price $L00. 

THE CONSTITUTION OF MAN ; Considered in 

Relation to External Objects. By Gxorgk Combe. With an Additional 
Chapter, on the HARMONY BETWEEN PHRENOLOGY AND REV- 
ELATION. By J. A. War.ic, A. M. Twenty-sixth American Edition. 
In one volume, 12mo, price 75 cents. 

▼II. 

ORTHOPHONY ; Or the Culture of the Voice in 

Elocution. A Manual of Elbmkntart Exkrcisbs, adapted to Dr. Rush'i 
" PHILOSOPHY OP THE HUMAN VOICE,»» and the system of Vocal 
Culture introduced by Mr. James E. Murdoch. Designed as an Ihtro- 
DucTioN to Russell's « AMERICAN ELOCUTIONIST." Compiled 
by William Russkll, author of " Lessons in Enunciation," etc. With 
a Supplement on PURITY OF TONE, by G. J. Webb, Professor, Boston 
Academy of Music. Improved Edition. In one volume, 12mo, prioe 
63 1-2 cenU. 

▼III. 

ELEMENTARY TREATISE ON MINERALOGY. 

Comprising an INTRODUCTION TO THE SCIENCE. Bv William 
Phillifs. Fifth Edition, from the Fourth London Edition. By Robert 
All&n. Containing the Latest Discoveries in American and Foreign 
Mineralogy, with numerous Additions to the Introduction, by Francis 
Aloer. With numerous Engrayingt. One volume, I2mo, price $3.00. 

IX. 

THE USE OF THE BLOWPIPE IN CHEMISTRY 

AND MINERALOGY. By J. J. Berzblius. Translated from the 4th 
Enlarged and Corrected Edition, by J. D. Wuithet. With Plates. In 
one volume, 12mo, price $1.50. 

X. 

A BRIEF PRACTICAL TREATISE ON MOR- 

TARS IN BUILDING. With an Account of the Processes employed 
on the Public Works in Boston Harbor. By Lieut. William H. Wright, 
U. S. Corps of Engineer!. With Platea. In one voVuma^ \Sts&A. ^vvu^ 
$1.00. 



BOOKS PUBLISHED BY WILLIAM D. TICKNOR & CO. 



A PRACTICAL TREATISE on THE CULTIVA- 
TION OF THE GRAPE VINE ON OPEN WALLS. To which is 
added, a Deaciiptive Account of an Improved Method of Planting and 
Jilanaging the Roots of Grape Vines. With Plates, in one volume, 
12mo, price (32 1-2 cents. 

Xll. 

THE SCENERY-SHOW-ER; with Word-Paintings 

of the Beautiful, the Picturesque, and the Grand in Nature. By 
Warren Burton. In one volume, 18mo, price 37 1-2 cents. 

xiu. 

DR. JOHN C. WARREN. Physical Education 

and The Preservation of Health. Third Edition, Enlarged. 18mo, 
price 25 cents. 

XIT, 

ANGEL-VOICES ; or Words op Counsel for Over- 
coming THE World. In one volume, 18mo, price, plain cloth, 31 cents. 

XV, 

A BUDGET OF LETTERS, or Things which I 

SAW Abroad. In one volume, 12mo, price $1.00. 

XVI. 

CONSUELO, and the Countess of Rudolstadt. 

By George Sand. Translated by Francis G. Shaw. Complete in five 
volumes, 12mo, price 50 cents per volume. Each work sold separate. 
xvii. 

DR. WALTER CHANNING. A Treatise on 

Etherization in Childbirth. Illustrated by 581 cases. In one vol* 
ume, 8vo, just published, price $2.00. 



FRBKOH. 



COUNT DE LAPORTE'S FRENCH GRAMMAR ; 

Containing all the Rules of the Language, upon a New and Improved 
Plan. New (Stereotype) Edition. 1 vol. 12mo, half-embossed morocco, 
$1.50. 

COUNT DE LAPORTE'S SPEAKING EXERCI- 

SES. For the Illustration of the Rules and Idioms of the French 
Language. New (Stereotype) Edition. 1 vol. 12mo. half- embossed mo- 
rocco, 63 cents. 

COUNT DE LAPORTE'S KEY TO THE FRENCH 

EXEKCISKS. New (SJtereotype) Edition. 1 vol. 12mo, half-embossed 
morocco, 50 cents. 

COUNT DE LAPORTE'S EXERCISES AND KEY. 

Bound in 1 volume, half-embossed morocco, $1.00. 

COUNT DE LAPORTE'S SELF -TEACHING 

reader. For the Study of the Pronunciation of the French Lan- 
guage, after a Plan entirely New, which will enable the Student to 
acquire with facility a Correct Pronunciation, with or without the assist- 
ance of a Teacher. Mew (Stereotype) Edition. 1 volume, 12mo, half- 
•mbossed morocco, 50 cents. 

The above Seriea ia used in the Unwersities qf Cambridge, Hanover, and Ftr- 

/inta, oi well a» in many other CoUeges, Academiee, and Schools, 

in JV>io England and e(se«ofcer«. 



LEAVES FROM 



LEAVES FROM 

Margaret Smith's Journal 



THE PROVINCE 

of 

1678-9. 



a 

BOSTON: 
TICKNOR, REED, AND FIELDS. 

MDCCCXLlXj^ 



..'#■■; 
875;i6V 



Entered aeeording to Act of CongroM, in the year 1849, by 

William D. Tickkob and Company, 

in the CIork*i Office of tiie District Court of tlie District of Mauachusctu. 



THURSTON, TORRT AND COMPANY, 
SI l>evoiuhin Strett. 



NOTE. 



Thb intelligent leadei of the following record cannot fail 
to notice occasional inaccuracies in respect to persons, places, 
and dates ; and, as a matter of course, will make due allow- 
ance for the prevailing prejudices and errors of the period to 
which it relates. That there are passages indicative of a 
comparatively recent origin, and calculated to cast a shade of 
doubt over the entire narrative, the Editor would be the last 
to deny, notwithstanding its general accordance with histori- 
cal verities and probabilities. Its merit consists mainly in the 
fact, that it presents a tolerably life-like picture of the Fast, 
and introduces us familiarly to the hearths and homes of New 
England in the seventeenth century. 

A full and accurate account of Secretary Rawson and his 
family is about to be published by his descendants, to which 
the reader is referred who wishes to know more of the per- 
sonages who figure prominently in this Journal. . 



/ 



THE KEW YORK f 
POBUC LIBRARY 



k 



janxm, jlenox: and 

nUMBM FOUNOAXiOMS 
A I920 L 



LEAVES FROM 

Margaret Smith's Journal 



IN THE 



COLONY of MASSACHUSETTS. 



Boston, May ye 8th, 1678. 

I REMEMBER I did promisc my kind cousin Oliver, 
(whom I pray God to have always in his keepmg,) 
when I parted with him nigh unto three Months ago, 
at mine uncle Grindall's, that, on coming to this new 
Countrie, I would, for his Sake and perusal, keep a 
little Journal of whatsoever did happen both unto my- 
self and unto Those with whom I might sojourn ; as 
also, some account of the Countrie and its Marvels, 
and mine own Cogitations thereon. So I this Day 
make a beginning of the Same ; albeit, as my Cousin 
well knoweth, not from any vanitie of Authorship, or 
because of any undue confiding in my poor Abilitie to 
1 



3 MARGARET SMITHES JOURNAL. 

edify one justly held in Repute among the Learned, 
but because my Hearte tells me that what I write, be it 
ever so faultie, will be read by the partial Eye of my 
Kinsman, and not with the critical Observance of the 
Scholar, and that his Love will not find it difficult to 
excuse what offends his clerkly Judgment And, to 
embolden me withal, I will never forget that I am 
writing for mine old Playmate at Hide and Seek in the 
Farm-house at Hilton — the same who used to hunt 
afler Flowers for me in the Spring, and who did fill 
my Apron with Hazle-nuts in the Autumn, and who 
was then, I fear, little wiser than his still foolish 
Cousin, who, if she hath not since learned so many 
new Things as himself, hath perhaps remembered more 
of the Old. Therefore, without other Preface, I will 
begin my Record. 

Of my Voyage out I need not write, as I have spoken 
of it in my Letters already, and it greatly irks me to 
think of it. Oh, a very long, dismal Time of Sickness 
and great Discomforts, and many sad Thoughts of all I 
had led behind, and fears of all I was going to meet in 
the New England ! I can liken it only to an ugly 
Dreame. When we got at last to Boston, the sight of 
the Land and Trees, albeit they were exceeding bleak 
and bare, (it being a late Season, and nipping cold,) 
was like unto a Vision of a better World. As we 



MARGASET SMITH'S JOUBNAIi. ^ 

passed the small wooded Islands, which make the Bay 
very pleas£^t, cind entered close upon the Town, and 
saw the Houses, and Orchards, and Meadows, and the 
Hills beyond covered with a great Growth of Wood, my 
Brother, lifling up both of his hands, cried out, '^ How 
goodlie are thy tents, oh Jacoh^ and thy h^hitationg^ 
oh Israel /" and for my part I did weep for Joy and 
Thankfulness of Heart, that God had brought us safely 
to so fair a Haven. Uncle and aunt Rawson met us on 
the Wharf, and made us very comfortable at their 
House, which is about half a mile from the water side, 
at the foot of a Hill, with an oaken Forest behind it, to 
shelter it from the north Wind, which is here very 
piercing. Uncle is Secretary of \he Massachusetts, 
and spends a great part of his time in Towne, and ]m 
Wife and Family are with him in the winter Season, 
but they spend their Summers at his Plantation on the 
Merrimack River, in Newbury. His Daughter, Re- 
becca, is just about my Age, very tall and lady-look- 
ing ; she is like her brother John, who was at uncle 
Hilton^s last year. She hath, moreover, a pleasant 
Wit, and hath seen much goodlie Companie, being 
greatly admired by the young Men of Family and dis- 
tinction in the Province. She hath been very kind to 
me, telling me that she looked upon me as a Sister. I 
have been courteously entertained, moreover, by many 



4 MABGARET SMITHES JOITBNAL. 

of the principal People, both of the reverend Clergy 
and the Magistracy. Nor must I forbear to mention a 
Visit which I made with uncle and aunt Rawson at 
the house of an aged Magistrate of high Esteem and 
Influence in these parts. He saluted me courteously, 
and made Inquiries concerning our Familie, and 
whether I had been admitted into the Church. On my 
telling him that I had not, he knit his Brows, and 
looked at me very sternly. 

" Mr. Rawson," said he, " your niece, I fear me, 
has much more need of spiritual Adorning than of such 
gewgaws as these," and took hold of my lace Ruff so 
hard that I heard the Stitches break; and then he 
pulled out my Sleeves, to see how wide they were, 
though they were only half an Ell. Madam ventured 
to speak a word to encourage me, for she saw I was 
much abashed and flustered, yet he did not heed her, 
but went on talking very loud against the Follie and 
the Wasteful Wantonness of the Times. Poor Madam 
is a quiet, sickly looking Woman, and seems not a 
little in awe of her Husband, at the which I do not 
marvel, for he hath a very impatient, forbidding Way 
with him, and, I must say, seemed to carry himself 
harshly at Times towdrds her. Uncle Rawson says 
he has had much to try his Temper ; that there have 
been many and sore Difliculties in Church as well as 



MARGARET SMITH S JOURNAL. 6 

State, and he hath hitter Enemies, in some of the 
Members of the General Court, who count him too 
severe with the Quakers and other Disturbers and 
Ranters. I told him it was no doubt true ; but that 1 
thought it a bad use of the Lord' s chastenings to abuse 
one's best Friends for the Wrongs done by Enemies; 
and, that to be made to atone for what went ill in 
Church or State, was a kind of vicarious Suffering that, 
if I was in Madam's place, I should not bear with half 
her Patience and Sweetness. 



Ipswich, near Agawam, May ye 12th. 
We set out day before Yesterday on our Journey to 
Newbury. There were six of us — Rebecca Rawson 
and her sister, Thomas Broughton, his Wife, and their 
Man Servant, my brother Leonard and myself, and 
young Robert Pike, of Newbury, who had been to Bos- 
ton on Business, his Father having great Fisheries in 
the River as well as the Sea. He is, I can perceive, a 
great Admirer of my Cousin, and indeed not without 
Reason ; for she hath in Mind and Person, in her 
graceful carriage and pleasant Discourse, and a cer- 
tain not unpleasing waywardness, as of a merrie child, 
that which makes her Companie sought of all. Our 
Route the first Day lay thorough the Woods and along 



6 laBGARET smith's JOTTBLlXAL, 

the borders of great Marshes and Meadows on the Sea 
shore. We came to Linne at Night, and stopped at 
the House of a Kinsman of Robert Pike's — a man of 
some substance and note in that Settlement We 
were tired and hungry, and the Supper of warm Indian 
Bread and sweet Milk relished quite as well as any I 
ever ate in the Old Countrie. The next Day we went 
on over a rough Road to Wenham, through Salem, 
which is quite a pleasant Town. Here we stopped 
until this Morning, when ' we again mounted our 
Horses, and reached this place after a smart Ride of 
three hours. The Weather in the Morning was warm 
and soft as our Summer Days at Home ; and as we 
rode through the Woods, where the young Leaves 
were fluttering, and the white Blossoms of the Wind- 
flowers, and the blue Violets and the yellow blooming 
of the Cowslips in the low Grounds, were seen on either 
hand, and the Birds all the Time making a great and 
pleasing Melody in the Branches, I was glad of Heart 
as a Child, and thought if my beloved Friends and 
cousin Oliver were only with us, I could never wish to 
leave so fair a Countrie. 

Just before we reached Agawam, as I was riding a 
little before my Companions, I was startled greatly by 
the Sight of an Indian. He was standing close to the 
Bridle-path, his half-naked Body partly hidden by a 



MABGARET SMITHES JOXTBMAL. f 

Clump of white Birches, through which he looked out 
on me with Eyes like two live Coals. I cried for my 
Brother, and turned my Horse, when Robert Pike came 
up, and bid me be of cheer, for he knew the Savage, 
and that he was friendly. Whereupon, he bade him 
come out of the Bushes, which he did, after a littte 
parley. He was a tall Man, of very fair and comlie 
make, and wore a red woollen Blanket with Beads and 
small Clam-Shells jingling abouf it. His skin was 
swarthy, not black like a Moor or Guinea Man, but of 
a color not unlike that of tarnished copper Coin. He 
spoke but little, and that in his own Tongue, very 
harsh and strange sounding to my Ear. Robert Pike 
tells me that he is Chief of the Agawams, once a great 
Nation in these Parts, but now quite small and broken. 
As we rode on, and from the Top of a Hill got a fair 
View of the great Sea off at the East, Robert Pike 
bade me notice a little Bay, around which I could see 
four or five small, peaked Huts or Tents, standing just 
where the white Sands of the Beach met the green 
line of Grass and Bushes of the Uplands. 

••There," said he, •• are their Summer Houses, 
which they build near unto their Fishing-grounds and 
Corn-fields. In the Winter they go far back into the 
Wilderness, where game is plenty of all kinds, and 
there build their Wigwams in warm Valleys thick with 



8 HABGAHST SMITHES JOUBNAL. 

Trees, which doe serve to shelter them from the 
Winds." 

'^ Let us look into them," said I to eousin Rebecca ; 
" it seems but a Stone's throw from our Way." 

She tried to dissuade me, by calling them a dirty, 
foul People ; but seeing I was not to be put ofi*, she at 
last consented, and we rode aside down the Hill, the 
rest following. On our Way we had the Misfortune to 
ride over their Corn-field ; at the which, two or three 
Women and as many Boys set up a yell verie hideous 
to hear ; whereat Robert Pike came up, and appeased 
them by giving them some Money and a Drink of 
Jamaica spirits, with which they seemed vastly pleased. 
I looked into one of their Huts ; it was made of Poles 
like unto a Tent, only it was covered with the silver 
colored Bark of the Birch, instead of hempen Stuff. A 
Bark Mat, braided of manie exceeding brilliant Colors, 
covered a goodlie Part of the Space inside ; and 
from the Poles we saw Fishes hangmg, and Strips of 
dried Meat. On a pile of Skins in the Corner sat a 
young Woman with a Child a nursing ; they both look- 
ed sadlie wild and neglected ; yet had she withal a 
pleasant Face, and as she bent over her Uttle one, her 
long, straight and black Hair falling over him and 
murmuring a low and very plaintive Melody, I forgot 
Every thing save that she was a Woman and a Mother, 



MARGARET SMITHES JOXTRNAL. 9 

and I felt my Hearte greatly drawn towards her. So, 
giving my Horse in charge, I ventured in to her, speak- 
ing as kindly as I could, and asking to see her Child. 
She understood me, and with a Smile held up her little 
papoose^ as she called him — who, to say Truth, 1 
could not call very pretty. He seemed to have a wild, 
shy Look, like the Offspring of an untamed Animal. 
The Woman wore a Blanket, gaudily fringed, and she 
had a string of Beads on her Neck. She took down a 
Basket, woven of white and red Willows, and pressed 
me to taste of her Bread ; which I did, that I might not 
offend her Courtesie hy refusing. It was not of ill 
Taste, although so hard one could scarcely hite it, and 
was made of Com Meal unleavened, mixed with a 
dried Berry, which gives it a sweet Flavor. She told 
me, in her broken way, that the whole tribe now num- 
bered only twenty-five Men and Women, counting out 
the Number very fast with yellow grains of Corn, on the 
Comer of her Blanket. She was, she said, the youngest 
Woman in the Tribe ; and her husband Peckanaminet, 
was the Indian we had met in the Bridle-path. I gave 
her a pretty piece of Ribbon, and an Apron for the 
Child ; and she thanked me in her Manner, going with 
us on our retum to the Path ; and when I had ridden a 
little onward, I saw her Husband ruhning towards us ; 
so stopping my Horse, I awaited until he came up, 



fO MAB6ABST SMITHES JOURNAL. 

when he offered me a fine large Fish, which he had 
just caught, in acknowledgment, as I judged, of my 
gift to his Wife. Rebecca, and Mistress Broughton 
laughed, and bid him take the thing away ; but I 
would not suffer it, and soe Robert Pike took it, and 
brought it on to our present tarr3dng Place, where 
trulie it hath made a faire Supper for us all. These 
poor Heathen People seem not so exceeding bad as 
they have been reported ; they be like unto our- 
selves, only lacking our Knowledge and Opportunities, 
which, indeed, are not our own to boast of, but Gifts of 
God calling for humble Thankfulness, and daily Prayer 
and Watchfulness, that they be rightly improved. 



Newbury eo ye Merrimack, May ye I4th, 1678. 
We were hardly on our Way Yesterday, from Aga- 
wam, when a dashing young Grallant rode up very fast 
behind us. He was fairly clad, in rich stufis, and rode 
a Nag of good Mettle. He saluted us with much Ease 
and Courtliness, offering especial compliments to Re- 
becca, to whom he seemed well known, and who I 
thought was both glad and surprised at his coming. 
As I rode near, she said it gave her great joy to bring 
to each others Acquaintance, Sir Thomas Hale, a 
^ood Friend of her Father's and her cousin Margaret, 



11 



who, like himself, was a new Coiner. He replied, 
that he should lode with Favor on any one who was 
near to her in Friendship or Kindred ; and, on learning 
my Father^s name, said he had seen him at his Vncle^s, 
Sir Matthew Hale^s, many Years ago, and could vouch 
for him as a worthie Man. After some pleasant and 
merrie Discoursing with us, he and my brother fell into 
converse upon the state of Affairs in the Ck>l(mie, the 
late lamentable Warre with the Narraganset and 
Pequod Indians, together with the Growth of Heresie 
and Schism in the Churches, which latter he did not 
scruple to charge upon the wicked Policy of the Home 
Government, in checking the wholesome severity at 
the Laws here enacted against the Schemers and 
Rcmters. " I quite agree," said he, " with Mr. Raw* y^^ttu 
son, that they should have hanged ten where they didl 
one." Cousin Rebecca here said she was sure her 
Father was now glad the Laws were changed, and that 
he had oflen told her that, although the Condemned 
deserved their Punishment, he was not sure that it was 
the best way to put down the Heresie. If she was"! 
Ruler, she continued in her merrie way, she would (jt::-^^ 
send all the Schemers and Ranters, and all the sour, V 
crabbed. Busy-bodies in the Churches, off to Rhodes 
Island, where all kinds of Folly, in Spirituals as well \ 
as Temporals, were permitted, and one crazy Head / 
couJd not reproach Another. 



12 MARGARET SMITHES JOURNAL. 

Falling back a little, and waiting for Robert Pike 
and cousin Broughton to come up, I found them 
marvelling at the coming of the young Gentleman, 
who it did seem had no special concernment in these 
parts, other than his Acquaintance with Rebecca, and 
his Desire of her Companie. Robert Pike, as is 
natural, looks upon him with no great partialitie, yet he 
doth admit him to be well-bred, and of much and 
varied knowledge, acquired by far Travel as well as 
Study. I must say, I like not his confident and bold 
Manner, and bearing, toward my faire Cousin ; and he 
hath more the likeness of a cast-off Dangler at the 
Court, than of a modest and seemly country Gentle- 
man, of a staid and well-ordered House. Mistress 
Broughton says he was not at first accredited in 
Boston, but that her father, and Mr. Atkinson, and the 
chief people there now, did hold him to be not only 
what he proffesseth as respecteth his gentlemanly 
Lmeage, but also learned and ingenious, and well 
versed in the Scriptures, and the works of godly 
Writers, both of ancient and modem Time. I noted 
"that Robert was very silent during the rest of our 
Journey, and seemed abashed and troubled in the 
presence of the gay Gentleman ; for, although a fair 
and comely Youth, and of good Familie and Estate, 
and accounted solid and judicious beyond his Years, hfif 



MARGARET SMITHES JOURNAL. 18 

does, nevertheless, much lack the Ease and ready Wit 
with which the latter commendeth himself to my sweet 
Kinswoman. 

We crossed about Noon a broad Stream near to 
the Sea, very deep and miry, so that we wetted our 
Hose and Skirts somewhat; and soon to our great 
joy, beheld the pleasant cleared Fields and Dwellings 
of the Settlement, stretching along for a goodlie Dis* 
tance, while, beyond all, the great Ocean rolled, blue 
and cold, under an high easterly Wind. Passing 
through a broad Path, with well tilled Fields on each 
Hand, where Men were busy planting Come, and 
young Maids dropping the Seed, we came at length to 
uncle Rawson's Plantation, looking well-nigh as faire 
and broad as the Lands of Hilton Grange, with a good 
frame House, and large Barns thereon. Turning up 
the Lane, we were met by the House-keeper, a re- 
spectable Kinswoman, who received us with great 
civilitie. Sir Thomas, although pressed to stay, 
excused himself for the Time, promising to call on the 
Morrow, and rode on to the Ordinary. I was sadly 
tired with my Journey, and was glad to be shown to a 
Chamber and a comfortable Bed. 

I was awakened this Morning by the pleasant Voice 
of my Cousin, who shared my Bed. She had arisen 
and thrown open the Window looking towards the Sun- 



14 lUBGABBT SMITHES JOITRNAL. 

rising, and tho Aire came in soft and warm, and laden 
with tho sweets of Flowers and green growing things. 
And when I had gotten myself ready, I sat with her at 
tlie Window, and I think I may say it was with a 
Feeling of Praise and Thanksgiving that mine Eyes 
wandered up and down over the green Meadows, and 
Corn-fields, and Orchards of my new Home. Where, 
thought I, foolish one, be the Terrors of the Wilderness 
which troubled thy daily Thoughts and thy nightly 
Dreams ! Where be the gloomy Shades, and desolate 
Mountains, and the wild Beasts, with their dismal 
ilowlinga and Rages ! Here all looked peaceful, and 
bespoke Comfort and Contentedness. £yen the great 
Wooils which climbed up the Hills in the Distance 
looked thin and soft, with their faint young leaves a 
yt^Uowbh grey, intermingled with pale, silvery Shades, 
iudicatiug^ as my Cousin saith, the different Kinds of 
Ti«^ei«« some of which, like the WiUow, do put on their 
Lmv^ ettrly, and others late, like the Oak, with which 
lk«^ whole Refcion aboundeth. A sweet, quiet IHctme it 
w«s> with a wanue Sun very bright and clear, ahining 
«v^r u« and the gnMit Sea, gltsteoing with the exceed- 
ing 1^^:% K.HUidinjC the vtew q^" mine Eyes, bat bearing 
say tWu^sss like $wLtt ShqpiSs. to the Land of my biith, 
«Bii $k> rmrrojg^ ;fc:^ it were« the Newe World widi the 
OUL Ob.^ thoij^ U ^ GoercituI God^ wbd leaewedi 



^KGABET SMITHES JOXTKNAIm %i 

the Earth and maketh it glad and brave with greenery 
and Flowers of various Hues and Smells, and causeth 
his South winds to blow and his Rains to fall, that 
Seed-time may not fail, doth even here, in the ends of 
his Creation, prank and beautify the Work of hia 
Hands, making the Desert places to rejoice, and the 
Wilderness to blossom as the Rose. Verily his Love 
is over All — the Indian Heathen as well as the English 
Christian. And what abundant cause for Thanks havQ 
I, that I have been safely landed on a Shore so faire 
and pleasant, and enabled to open mine Eyes in Peace 
and Love on so sweet a May morning ! And I was 
minded of a verse which I learned from my dear 
and honored Mother when a child — 

** Teach me, my God, thy Love to know, 

That this new Light which now I see, 
May both the Work and Workman show, 

Then by the Sun-beams l'«tll climb to thee.'' 

When we went Below, we found on the Window 
seat which lodceth to the Road-way a great Bunch of 
Flowers of manie kinds, such as I had never seen in 
mine own Countrie, very fresh, and glistening with the 
Dew. Now, when Rebecca took them up, her sister 
said, " Nay, they are not Sir Thomas's gift, for young 
Pike hath just left them." Whereat, as I thought, she 
looked vexed, and ill at ease. " They are yours, then, 



16 MABGARET SMITHES JOXmNAL. 

cousin Margaret," said she, rallying, " for Robert and 
you did ride aside all the way from Agawam, and he 
scarce spake to me the Day long. I see I have lost 
mine old Liover, and my little Cousin hath found a new 
one. I shall write cousin Oliver all about it.'' 
" Nay," said I, " old Lovers are better than new ; but I 
fear my sweet Cousin hath not sO considered it." She 
blushed, and looked aside, and for some space of Time 
I did miss her Smile, and she spake little. 

May ye 20th. 
We had scarcely breakfasted, when him they call 
Sir Thomas called on us, and with him came also 
a Mr. Sewall, and the minister of the church, Mr. 
Richardson, both of whom did cordially welcome home 
my Cousins, and were civil to my Brother and myself. 
Mr. Richardson and Leonard fell to conversing about 
the state of the Church ; and Sir Thomas discoursed us 
in his lively Way. After some little tarry, Mr. Sewall 
asked us to go with him to Deer's Island, a small Way 
up the River, where he and Robert Pike had some men 
splitting Staves for the Bermuda Market. As the Day 
was clear and warm, we did readily agree to go, and 
forthwith set out for the River, passing through the 
Woods for nearly a half Mile. When we came to the 
Merrimack, we found it a great and broad stream. We 



MAEGAKET SMITH's J0T7BNAL. 17 

took a Boat, and were rowed up the River, enjoying 
the pleasing view of the green Banks, and the Rocks 
hanging over the Water, covered with bright mosses, 
and besprinkled with pale, white Flowers. Mr. Sewall 
pointed out to us the different kinds of Trees, and their 
nature and uses, and especially the Sugar-tree, which 
is very beautiful in its leaf and shape, and from 
which the People of this Countrie do draw a sap well 
nigh as sweet as the Juice of the Indian cane, making 
good Treacle and Sugar. Deer's Island hath rough, 
rocky Shores, very high and steep, and is well covered 
with a great growth of Trees, mostly evergreen Pines 
and Hemlocks, which looked exceeding old. We 
found a good seat on the mossy trunk of one of these 
great Trees which had fallen from its extreme age, or 
from some violent blast of Wind, from whence we 
could see the River running with loud noise over the 
Rocks, and hear the melodious sound of the Wind in 
the leaves of the Pines, and the singing of Birds ever 
and anon: and lest this should seem too sad and 
lonelie, we could also hear the sounds of the Axes and 
Beetles of the workmen, cleaving the Timber, not far 
off. It was not long before Robert Pike came up, and 
joined us. He was in his working Dress, and his Face 
and Hands were much discolored by the smut of the 
2 



|8 MABGAKET SMITHES JOURNAL. 

burnt logs, which Rebecca playfully remarking, he 
said there were no Mirrours in the woods, and that must 
be his apology; that, besides, it did not become a 
plain Man, like himself, who had to make his own 
fortune in the world, to try to imitate those who had 
only to open their mouths, to be fed like young Robbins, 
without trouble or toil. Such might go as brave as 
they would, if they would only excuse his necessitie. 
I thought he spoke with some bitterness, which indeed 
was not without the excuse, that the manner of our gay 
young gentleman towards him savored much of pride 
and contemptuousness. My beloved Cousin, who hath 
a good heart, and who, I must think, apart from the 
wealth and family of Sir Thomas, rather inclineth to 
_^ her old friend and neighbor, spake cheerily and 
kindly to him, and besought me privately to do some- 
what to help her remove his vexation. Soe we did 
discourse of manie things, very pleasantly. Mr. 
Richardson, on hearing Rebecca say that the Indians 
did take the melancholie noises of the Pine trees in the 
Winds to be the voices of the Spirits of the Woods, 
said that they always called to his mind the sounds in 
the Mulberry Trees which the Prophet spake of. 
Hereupon Rebecca, who hath her memory well pro- 
vided with divers readings, both of the Poets and other 



MAEGASET SMITHES JOUENAIf^ 19 

Writers, did cite very opportunely some ingenious 
lines, touching what the Heathens doe relate of the 
Sacred Tree of Dodona, the rustling of whose leaves 
the negro priestesses did hold to be the language of the 
Gods. And a late writer, she said, had something in one 
of his pieces, which might well be spoken of the aged 
and dead tree trunk, upon which we were sitting. 
And when we did all desire to know their import, she 
repeated them thus : — 

** Sure thou didst flourish once, and manie springs 

Manie bright mornings, much dew, manie showers 
Passed o'er thy head ; manie light hearts and wings 

Which now are dead, lodged in thy living towers. 
And still a new succession sings and flies. 

Fresh groves grow ap, and their green branches shoot 
Towards the old and still enduring skies, 

While the low violet thriveth at their root." 

These lines, she said, were written by one Vaughn, a 
Brecknockshire Welsh Doctor of Medicine, who had 
printed a little book not many years ago. Mr. Rich- 
ardson said the lines were good, but that he did hold 
the reading of Ballads and the conceits of Rhymers a 
waste of time, to say nothing worse. Sir Thomas 
hereat said that, as far as he could judge, the worthy 
folk of New England had no great temptation to 
that sin from their own Poets, and did then, in a drol- 



Wi^^ T/VfM, mf^!^ frnm^ Vif»f9» of iie cxxzm psKlm 
ve^Hi^.h M m'id ^^m tte b^nc be had kgx in die Cam 
M4f^ f'm\m tUyJk : — 

fifff \Ufp w« 4Ni iMMf ttaaiMl 

Vpm ihtt wHlow tr«e j 
fl#««fiHM Ih^fff thoy that m away 

}i«d to «aptivitlf 
ttdtiuirad »r UM A long, and thui 

Ankt mirth ui waiu who laid, 
NiHi MH amntin a Bion'i long 

ttHiM M« a» ihan th«y aaid." 

** Nh.v» W» Tlummn,*' quoth Mr. Eichardscm, "his 
^^\^^ !t^^y^\\l\ H^ ^\ \\v>t tlw* Word of God* The wri- 
\>^\'< \^V \NHV ^Ks4i v\|' t\MU\Wi itt Mcin? held ri^itlie that 
\i>S^^ Viti^V ^y>W ^^ i^Niii^i^; And inihr diey tore 

^ijsAyv ^, W \>»*»v^s **>*^. ^^. thttv Jxs' V :&!£ Ooft- 
vs.- VV»*i\- V- »*s;¥*in*sv. i*v*Tv. tV^i" tKc^ dw' hi. i^agi li 



MABGABST SMITHES JOURNAL. 21 

being now near noon, we crossed over the River, to 
where was a sweet Spring of Water, very clear and 
bright, running out upon the green Bank. Now as we 
stood thirsty, having no cup to drink from, seeing some 
People near, we called to them, and presently there 
came running to us a young and modest woman, with 
a bright pewter 'tankard, which she filled and gave us. 
I thought her sweete and beautiful, as Rebecca of old, 
at her father's fountain. She was about leavmg, when 
Mr. Richardson said to her, it was a foul shame for 
one like her to give heed to the ranting of the Quakers, 
and bade her be a good Girl, and come to the Meeting. 

"Nay," said she, " Lhave been there often, to 
small profit. The Spirit which thou persecutest testifieth 
against thee and thy Meeting.^ 

Sir Thomas jestingly asked her if the Spirit she 
spoke of was not such an one as possessed Mary Mag- 
dalen. 

" Or the Swine of the Gadarenes ? " asked Mr. 
Richardson. 

I did smile with the others, but was presentlie sorrie 
for it ; for the young Maid answered not a word to this, 
but, turning to Rebecca, she said, " Thy Father hath 
been hard with us, but thou seemest kind and gentle, 
and I have heard of thy charities to the Poor. The 
Lord keep thee, for thou walkest in slippery places ; 



32 lUXOABBT SMITHES JOUSHAL. 

there is danger, and thou seest it not ; thou trustest to 
the hearing of the Ear and the seeing of the Eye ; the 
Lord alone seeth the deceitfuUiess and the guile of 
Man ; and if thou wilt cry mightily to Him, He can 
direct thee rightly." 

Her voice and manner were very weighty and sol- 
emn. I felt an Awe come upon me, and Rebecca^s 
countenance was troubled. As the Maiden left us, the 
Minister, looking after her, said, " There is a deal of 
poison under the faire outside of yonder Vessel, which 
I fear is fitted for destruction." " Peggy Brewster 
is indeed under a Delusion," answered Robert Pike, 
" but I know no harm of her. She is kind to all, even 
to them who evil entreat her." "Robert! Robert!" 
cried the Minister, " I fear me you will follow your 
honored Father, who has made himself of ill repute, 
by favoring these people." "The Quaker hath be- 
witched him with her bright eyes, perhaps," quoth Sir 
Thomas. " I would she had laid a spell on an uncivil 
Tongue I wot of," answered Robert, angrilie. Here- 
upon, Mr. Sewall proposed that we should return, and, 
in making readie and getting to the Boat, the matter 
was dropped. 



tfABOAKET smith's JOITSNAL. 28 

Newbury, Jiind, ye 1st, 1678. 
To-day, Sir Thomas took his leave of us, being 
about to go back to Boston. Cousin Rebecca is, I can 
see, much taken with his outside Bravery and CourtH* 
ness, yet «he hath confessed to me that her sober Judg- 
ment doth greatlie incline her towards her old Friend 
and Neighbor, Robert Pike. She hath even said that 
she doubted not she could live a quieter and happier 
Life with him than with such an one as Sir Thomas ; 
and that the Words of the Quaker Maid, whom we 
met at the spring on the river side, had disquieted her 
not a little, inasmuch as they did seem to confirm her 
own Fears and Misgivings. But her fancy is so be- 
dazzled with the goodlie show of her Suitor, that I 
much fear he can have her for the asking, especially 
as her Father, to my knowledge, doth greatly favor 
him. And, indeed, by reason of her gracious Manner, 
witty and pleasant Discoursing, excellent Breeding, 
and Dignitie, she would doe no discredit to the Choice 
of one far higher than this young Gentleman in estate 
and rank. 

June ye 10th. 
I went this Morning with Rebecca to visit El- 
nathan Stone, a young Neighbor, who has been lying 
Borelie ill for a long time. He wa3 a Playmate of my 



24 MARGAEET SMITHES JOURNAL. 

Cousin when a Boy, and was thought to be of great 
Promise, as he grew up to Manhood ; but, engaging in 
the Warre with the Heathen, he was wounded and 
taken Captive by them, and after much Suffering was 
brought back to his Home a few months ago. On en- 
tering the House where he lay, we found his Mother, a 
care-worn and sad Woman, spinning in the room by 
his bedside. A very great and bitter Sorrow was de- 
picted on her Features ; it was the anxious, unrecon- 
ciled, and restless look of one who did feel herself 
tried beyond her Patience, and might not be comforted. 
For, as I learned, she was a poor Widow, who had 
seen her young Daughter tomahawked by the In- 
dians ; and now her only Son, the Hope of her old 
Age, was on his Deathbed. She received us with small 
civilitie, telling Rebecca that it was all along of the 
Neglect of the Men in Authoritie that her Son had got 
his death in the Warres, inasmuch as it was the want 
of suitable Diet and Clothing, rather than his Wounds, 
which had brought him into his present Condition. 
Now, as Uncle Bawson is one of the principal Magis- 
trates, my sweet Cousin knew that the poor afflicted 
Creature meant to reproach him ; but her good Heart 
did excuse and forgive the rudeness and distemper of 
one whom the Lord had sorely chastened. So aha 
spake kiudlie and lovinglie, and gave her sundrie nioe 



MABGAEET SMITHES JOURNAL. 25 

daintie Fruits, and comforting Cordials, which she had 
got from Boston for the sick Man. Then, as she 
came to his bedside, and took his Hand lovingly in 
her own, he thanked her for her many Kindnesses, 
and prayed God to bless her. He must have been 
a handsome Lad in Health, for he had a faire, smooth 
Forehead, shaded with brown curling Hair, and large, 
blue Eyes, verie sweet and gentle in their look. 
He told us that he felt himself growing weaker, 
aod that at Times his bodilie Sufiering was great 
^t through the Mercy of his Saviour he had much 
peace of Mind. He was content to leave all Things 
in His Hand. For his poor Mother^s sake, he said, 
more than for his own, he would like to get about 
once more ; there were manie Things he would like to 
doe for her, and for all who had befriended him ; but 
he knew his Heavenly Father could do more and 
better for them, and he felt resigned to His Will. He 
had, he said, forgiven All who ever wronged him, and 
he had now no Feeling of Anger or Unkindness lefl 
towards any one, for all seemed kind to him beyond 
his deserts, and like Brothers and Sisters. He had 
much Pitie for the poor Savages even, although he had 
suffered sorelie at their Hands ; for he did believe that 
they had been oflen ill-used, and cheated, and other- 
wise provoked to take up Arms against us. Hereupon, 



26 MABGAEET SMITH's JOUENAL. 

Goodwife Stone twirled her Spindle verie spitefully, and 
said she would as soon pity the Devil as his Children. 
The Thought of her mangled little Girl and of her 
dying Son did seem to overcome her, and she dropped 
her thread, and cried out with an exceeding bitter cry : 
" Oh, the bloody Heathen ! Oh, my poor murdered 
Molly ! Oh, my Son, my Son ! " " Nay, Mother," 
said the sick Man, reaching out his hand, and taking 
hold of his Mother's with a sweet Smile on his pale 
face — " what does Christ tell us about loving our 
Enemies, and doing good to them that doe injure us ? 
Let us forgive our fellow-creatures, for we have all 
need of God's forgiveness. I used to feel as Mather 
does," he said, turning to us ; " for I went into the 
Warre with a design to spare neither young nor old of 
the enemy. But I thank God that even in that dark 
season my heart relented at the sight of the poor 
starving women and children chased from place to 
place like Partridges. Even the Indian fighters, I foimd, 
had sorrows of their own, and grievous wrongs to 
avenge ; and I doe believe, if we had from the first 
treated them as poor blinded Brethren, and striven as 
hard to give them light and knowledge, as we have to 
cheat them in trade, and to get away their lands, we 
should have escaped manie bloody Warres, and won 
many precious souls to Christ?' 



HABOARET SMITHES JOURNAL. S7 

I enquired of him concerning his Captivitie. He was 
wounded, he told me, in a fight with the Sokokis Indians 
two years before. It was a hot skirmish in the woods ; 
the English and the Indians now running forward, 
and then falling back, firing at each other from behind 
the trees. He had shot off all his powder, and, being 
readie to faint by reason of a wound in his knee, he was 
fain to sit down against an oak, from whence he did be- 
hold with great sorrow and heaviness of hearte, his 
Companions overpowered by the number of their Ene- 
mies, fleeing away and leaving him to his fate. The 
Savages soon came to Jiim with dreadful whoopings, 
brandishing their hatchets and their scalping knives. 
He thereupon closed his eyes, expecting to be knocked 
in the head, and killed outright. But just then a noted 
Chief coming up in great haste, bade him be of good 
cheer, for he was his prisoner, and should not be slain. 
He proved to be the famous Sagamore Squando, the 
chief man of the Sokokis. 

*' And were you kindly treated by this Chief.? ** 
asked Rebeeca. '^I suffered much in moving with 
him to the Sebago Lake, owing to my wound,** 
he replied ; " but the Chief did all in his power 
to give me comfort, and he of\en shared with 
me his scant fare, choosing rather to endure hunger 
himself, than to see his Son, as he called me, in want 



28 MARGARET SMITHES JOTTRNAL. 

of food. And one night, when I did marvell at this 
kindness on his part, he told me that I had once done 
Jiim a great service ; asking me if I was not at Black 
Point, in a fishing vessel, the Summer before ? I told 
him I was. He then bade me remember the bad 
Sailors who upset the Canoe of a Squaw, and well 
nigh drowned her little Child, and that I had threatened 
and beat them for it ; and also how I gave the Squaw a 
warm coat to wrap up the poor wet Papoose. It was 
his Squaw and Child that I had befriended ; and he told 
me that he had oflen tried to speake to me, and make 
known his gratitude therefor ; and that he came once 
to the Garrison at Sheepscot, where he saw me ; but 
being fired at, notwithstanding his signs of peace and 
friendship, he was obliged to flee into the Woods. 
He said the Child died a few days after its evil treat- 
ment, and the thought of it made his Heart bitter; 
that he had tried to live peaceably with the White 
Men, but they had driven him into the Warre. 

" On one occasion,'' said the sick Soldier, " as we lay 
side by side in his hut, on the shore of the Sebago Lake, 
Squando, about midnight, began to pray to his God, 
verie earnestlie. And on my querying with him about 
it, he said he was greatlie in doubt what to do, and had 
prayed for some sign of the Great Spirit's will con- 
cerning him. He then told me that some years ago, 



MARGABET SMITHES JOURNAL. 29 

neare the place where we then lay, he left his Wigwam 
at night, being unable to sleep, by reason of great 
heaviness and distemper of mind. It was a full Moon, 
and as he did walk to and fro, he saw a fair, tall Man 
in a long black dress, standing in the light on the lakers 
shore, who spake to him and called him by name. 

** ^ Squando,' he said, and his voice was deep and 
solemn, like the Wind in the Hill Pines, ' the God of 
the White man is the God of the Indian, and He is 
angry with his red children. He alone is able to make 
the Com grow before the Frost, and to lead the fish up 
the Rivers in the Spring, and to fill the Woods with 
Deers and other game, and the Ponds and Meadows 
with Beavers. Pray to him always. Do not hunt on 
his day, nor let the Squaws hoe the Com. Never 
taste of the strong fire-water ; but drink only from the 
Springs. It is because the Indians do not worshipp Him, 
that he has brought the White men among them ; but 
if they will pray like the White men, they will grow 
verie great and strong, and their children bom in this 
Moon will live to see the English sail back in their 
great Canoes, and leave the Indians all their fishing 
places and hunting grounds.' 

^^ When the strange man had thus spoken, Squando 
told me that he went straightway up to him, but found 
where he had stood only the Shadow of a broken Tree, 



90 fKARGARET SMITHES JOUBNAL^ 

which lay in the Moon across the white Sand of th& 
shore. Then he knew it was a Spirit, and he trembled* 
but was glad. Ever since, he told me, he had prayed 
daily to the Great Spirit, had drank no Rum, nor- 
hunted on the Sabbath. 

^' He said he did for a long time refuse to dig up hiS; 
Hatchet, and make Warre upon the Whites, but that 
he could not sit idle in his Wigwam, while his young 
Men were gone upon their Warre path. The Spirit of 
his dead Child did moreover speak to him from tiba 
land of Souls, and chide him for not seeking Revenge. 
Once, he told me, he had in a Dream seen the Child 
crying and moaning bitterlie, and that when he en- 
quired the cause of its Griefe, he was told that the 
Great Spirit was angrie with its Father, and would 
destroy him and his People unless he did join with the 
Eastern Indians to cut off the English.^^ 

" I remember," said Rebecca, " of hearing my 
Father speake of this Squando*s kindness to a young 
Maid taken Captive some Years ago, at Presumpscot" 

^^I saw her at Cocheco," said the sick man, 
^Squando found her in a sad plight, and scarcely 
alive, took her to his Wigwam, where his Squaw did 
k>vingly nurse and comfort her; and when she was 
able to travel, he brought her to Major Waldron^s, 
asking no Ransom for her. He might have been made 



MASGASET SMITHES JOUBNAL. 31 

the fast Friend of the English at that time, hut he 
scarcelie got civil treatment*' 

'' My father says that many friendly Indians, hy the 
ill conduct of the Traders, have been made our worst 
Enemies," said Rebecca. " He thought the bringing 
. in of the Mohawks to help us a Sin comparable to that 
of the Jews, who looked for deliverance from the King 
of Babylon at the hands of the Egyptians. 

''They did nothing but mischief," said ElnathaiT 
Stone ; " they killed our friends at Newichawannock, 
Blind Will and his Familie." 

Rebecca here asked him if he ever heard the verses 
writ by Mr. Sewall concerning the killing of Blind 
Will. And when he told her he had not, and would 
like to have her repeat them, if she could remember, 
she did recite them thus : 

" Blind Will of Newichawannock I 

He never will whoop again, 
For his Wigwam *a burnt above him, 

And his old, grey Scalp is ta'en ! 

" Blind Will was the Friend of White men, 
On their errands his young men ran, 

And he got him a Coat and Breeches, 
And looked like a Christian man. 

" Poor Will of Newichawannock ! 
They slew him unawares, 



MAR6ABET SMITHES JOXTRNAL. 

Where he lived among his People, 
Keeping Sabbath and saying Prayers. 

" Now his fields will know no harrest, 
And his Pipe is clean put out, 

And his fine, brave Coat and Breeches 
The Mohog wears about. 

" Woe the day oar Rulers listened 
To Sir Edmund's wicked plan, 

Bringing down the cruel Mohogs 
Who killed the poor old Man. 

" Oh ! the Lord he will requite us ; ■ 

For the Evil we have done, 
There '11 be manie a faire Scalp drying 

In the Wind and in the Sun ! 

" There'll be manie a Captive sighing 
In a Bondage long and dire, 

There'll be blood in manie a Cornfield, 
And manie a House a-fire. 

" And the Papist Priests the Tidings 
Unto all the Tribes will send ; 

They'll point to Newichawannock — 
« So the English treat their Friend I ' 

*' Let the Lord's anointed Servants 
Crie aloud against this wrong. 

Till Sir Edmund take his Mohog^ 
Back again where they belong. 



MARGARBT SMITHES JOUBNAL. S8 

" Let the Maiden and the Mother 

In the nightly Watching share, 
While the young men guard the Blockhouse, 

And the old men kneel in Prayer. 

" Poor Will of Newichawannock ! 

For thy sad and cruel Fall, 
And the bringing in of the Mohogs, 

May the Lord forgive us all ! " 

A young Woman entered the House just as Rebecca 
finished the Verses. She bore in her Hands a pail of 
Milk and a Fowl neatlie dressed, which she gave to 
Elnathan's mother, and, seebg Strangers by his bed- 
side, was about to go out, when he called to her, and 
besought her to stay. As she came up and spoke to 
him, I knew her to be the Maid we had met at the 
Spring. The young Man with tears in his eyes, 
acknowledged her great kindness to him, at which she 
seemed troubled and abashed. A pure, sweet com- 
plexion she hath, and a gentle and loving look, full of 
innocence and sinceritie. Rebecca seemed greatlie 
disturbed, for she no doubt thought of the warning 
words of this Maiden, when we were at the Spring. 
After she had left, goodwife Stone said she was sure 
she could not tell what brought that Quaker girl to her 
house so much, unless she meant to inveigle Elnathan ; 
but, for her part, she would rather see him dead than 
3 



34 MARGARET SMITHES JOURNAL. 

live to bring reproach upon his familie and the Church, 
by following after the blasphemers. I ventured to tcU 
her that I did look upon it as sheer kindness and 
love on the young Woman's part ; at which Elnathan 
seemed pleased, and said he could not doubt it, and 
that he did believe Peggy Brewster to be a good 
Christian, although sadlie led astray by the Quakers. 
His mother said that, with all her meek looks, and 
kind words, she was full of all manner of pestilent here- 
sies, and did remind her always of Satan in the shape 
of an Angel of Light. 

We went away ourselves soon after this, the sick 
man thanking us for our visit, and hoping that he should 
see us again. " Poor Elnathan,^' said Rebecca, as we 
walked home, " he will never go abroad again ; but he 
is in such a good and loving frame of mind, that he 
needs not our pity, as one who is without hope." 

" He reminds me," I said, " of the comforting 
promise of Scripture ; ' Thou vnlt keep him in perfect 
peace whose mind is stayed on TheeJ " 

June ye 30th, 1678. 

Mr. Rawson and Sir Thomas Hale came yesterday 

from Boston. I was rejoiced to see mine Uncle, more 

especially as he brought for me a package of Letters 

and presents and tokens of remembrance from my 



MARGARET SMITHES JOURNAL. 35 

friends on the other side of the Water. As soon as I 
got them, I went up to my chamber, and, as I read of 
the health of those who are verie dear to me, and who 
did still regard me with unchanged Love, I wept in my 
great joy, and my heart overflowed in thankfulness. I 
read the xxii Psalm, and it did seem to express mine 
own feelings in view of the great mercies and blessings 
vouchsafed to me. My head is annointed with oil ; • 
mjf cup runneth over. Surely Goodness and Mercy 
^aJl follow me all the days of thy life. 

This morning, Sir Thomas and Uncle Rawson rode 
over to Hampton where they will tarry all night. Last 
evening, Rebecca had a long talk with her Father 
concerning Sir Thomas, who hath asked her of him. 
She came to Bedde very late, and lay restless and 
sobbing ; whereupon I pressed her to know the cause 
of her grief, when she told me she had consented to 
marry Sir Thomas, but that her Heart was sorely 
troubled, and full of misgivings. On my querying 
whether she did really love the young Gentleman, she 
said she sometimes feared she did not ; and that when 
her fancie had made a faire picture of the life of a great 
Lady in England, there did often come a dark cloud 
over it like the shade of some heavy disappointment or 
sorrow. " Sir Thomas,'' she said, " was a handsome 
and wittie young Man, and had demeaned himself to 



36 MARGARET SMITHES JOURNAL. 

the satisfaction and good repute of her Father and the 
principal people of the Colony ; and his manner towards 
her had been exceeding delicate and modest, inasmuch 
as he had presumed nothing upon his familie or estate, 
but had sought her with much entreatie and humilitie, 
although he did well know that some of the most 
admired and wealthy young Women in Boston did 
esteem him not a little, even to the annoying of herself, 
as one whom he especially favored." 

" This will be heavy news to Robert Pike,** said 
I; ^'and I am sorrie for him, for he is indeed a 
worthie Man." 

" That he is," quoth she, " but he hath never spoken 
to me of aught beyond that friendliness which, as neigh- 
bors and school-companions, we do innocently cherish 
for each other." 

" Nay," said I, " my sweet Cousin knows full well 
that he entertauieth so strong an affection for her, that 
there needeth no words to reveal it." 

" Alas ! " she answered, " it is too true. When I am 
with him, I sometimes wish I had never seen Sir 
Thomas. But my Choice is made, and I pray God I 
may not have reason to repent of it." 

We said no more, but I fear she slept little, for 
on waking about the break of Day, I saw her sitting in 
her night dress by the window. Whereupon I 



MASGARET SMITH'S JOUBNAL. 37 

entreated her to return to her Bedde, which she at 
length did, and folding me in her arms, and sohbbg as if 
her Heart would break, she besought me to pity her, for 
it was no light thing which she had done, and she 
scarcelie knew her own Mind, nor whether to rejoice or 
weep over it. I strove to comfort her, and, after a 
time, she did, to my great joy, fall into a quiet Sleep. 
This afternoon, Robert Pike came in, and had a 
long talk with Cousin Broughton, who told him how 
matters stood between her Sister and Sir Thomas, at 
which he was vehemently troubled, and would fain 
have gone to seek Eebecca at once, and expostulate 
with her, but was hindered on being told that it could 
only grieve and discomfort her, inasmuch as the thing 
was well settled, and could not be broken off. He 
said he had known and loved her from a Child ; that 
for her sake he had toiled hard by Day and studied 
by Night, and that in all his travels and voyages, her 
sweet image had always gone with him.. He would 
bring no accusation against her, for she had all along 
treated him rather as a brother than as a suitor, to which 
last condition he had indeed not felt himself at libertie 
to venture, after her honored Father, some months ago, 
had given him to understand that he did design an 
alliance of his Daughter with a gentleman of estate and 
familie. For himself, he would bear himself manfully j. 




with imtiBnce and furuliMBi 
lMi:liis beloved Friend Imd bealH 
: mdtfaKtbewbo washer 
^"^ wmtiii ef tiB .great gift of mt 
who liBB hirttwriu gitut 
Af Sir Tnunott, tt^d me M 
e^snc JnTieiw of ^le molf 




Vh->*. 



•^ :sMit. •>! -« ^iMtsj^ftifr Oft :hB miSm ht/bn 



MARGARET SMITH'S JOURNAL. 39 

fhe Deacons had well nigh run out, and Deacon Dole 
was aboute turning it, when suddenlie I saw the Con- 
gregation all about me give a great start, and look back. 
A young Woman, barefooted and with a coarse canvass 
Frock about her, and her long hair hanging loose like a 
p^riwigg, and sprinkled with ashes, came walking up the 
south Aisle. Just as she got near Uncle Rawson^s seat 
the stopped, and turning round towards the four cor- 
ners of the House, cried out : " Woe to the persecutors ! 
Woe to them who for a pretence make long prayers ! 
Humble yourselves^ for this is the day of the LortVs 
power ^ and I am sent as a sign among you ! '^ As she 
looked towards me I knew her to be the Quaker mai- 
den, Margaret Brewster. " Where is the Constable ? '' 
asked Mr. Richardson. " Let the Woman be taken 
out." Thereupon the whole Congregation arose, and 
there was a great uproar. Men and Women climbing the 
Seats, and manie crying out, some one thing and scnne 
another. In the midst of the noise, Mr. Sewall, getting 
np on a Bench, begged the people to be quiet, and let 
the Constable lead out the poor deluded creature. Mr. 
Richardson spake to the same effect, and the tumult a 
little subsiding, I saw them taking the young Woman 
out of the door ; and, as manie followed her, I went out 
also, with my Brother, to see what became of her. 
We found her in the middle of a great crowd of 



40 XABGARET SMITHES JOTTBICAL. 

angrie people, who reproached her for her wickedness 
in disturhing the Worship on the Lord^s day, calling 
her all manner of foul names, and threatening her with 
the Stocks and the Whipping-post. The poor creature 
stood still and quiet; she was deathly pale, and hei 
wild hair and sackcloth frock gave her a verie strange 
uid pitiahle look. The Constahle was ahout to take 
her in charge until the morrow, when Robert Pike came 
forward, and said he would answer for her appearance 
at the Court the next Day, and besought the people to 
let her go quietly to her home, which, after some par- 
ley,, was agreed to. Robert then went up to her, and 
taking her hand, asked her to go with him. She 
looked up, and being greatlie touched by his Kindness, 
began to weep, telling him that it had been a sorrowful 
cross to her to do as she had done ; but that it had been 
long upon her Mind, and that she did feel a reliefe 
now that she had found strength for obedience. He, 
seeing the People still following, hastened her away, 
and we all went back to the Meeting-house. In the 
afternoon, Mr. Richardson gave notice that he should 
preach, next Lord's day, from the 12th and 13th verses 
of Jude, wherein the Ranters and Disturbers of the pre- 
sent day were verie plainlie spoken of. 

This morning she hath been had before the Magis- 
trates, who, considering her youth and good behavior 



MABGA&ET SMITHES JOURNAL. 41 

hitherto, did not proceed against her so far as manie 
of the People desired. A fine was laid upon her, 
which both she and her Father did profess they could 
not in conscience pay, whereupon she was ordered to 
be set in the Stocks ; but this Mr. Sewall, Robert Pike, 
and my Brother would by no means allow, but paid the 
fine themselves, soe that she was set at Liberty, whereat 
the Boys and rude Women were not a little disappoint- 
ed, as they had thought to make sport of her in the 
Stocks. Mi;. Pike, I hear, did speak openlie in her 
behalf before the Magistrates, saying that it was all 
along of the cruel persecution of these People that 
did drive them to such Follies and breaches of the 
Peace. Mr. Richardson, who hath heretofore been 
exceeding hard upon the Quakers, did, moreover, 
speak somewhat in excuse of her Conduct, believing 
that she was instigated by her Elders ; and he there- 
fore counselled the Court that she should not be 
whipped. 

August ye 1st. 
Capt. Sewall, R. Pike, and the Minister Mr. Richard- 
son at our house to-day. Capt. Sewall, who lives 
mostlie at Boston, says that a small Yessell loaded with 
Negroes, taken on the Madagascar coast, came last 
week into the Harbor, and that the owner thereof had 



42 



offered the Negroes for sale as Slaves, and that they 
had all heen sold to Magistrates, Ministers, and other 
people of distinction, in Boston and thereabouts. He 
said the Negroes were principally Women and Chil- 
dren, and scarcelie alive, by reason of their long 
Voyage and hard Fare. He thought it a great scandal 
to the Colony, and a reproach to the Church, that they 
should be openlie trafficked, like Cattell in the market 
Uncle Rawson said it was not so formerlie ; for he did 
remember the case of Capt. Smith and one Kesar, who 
brought Negroes from Guinea thirty Years ago. The 
Greneral Court, urged thereto by Sir Richard Salton* 
stall and manie of the Ministers, passed an order that, 
for the purpose of ^'bearing a witness against the heinous 
sin of Man-stealing, justlie abhorred of all good and 
just Men,^' the Negroes should be taken back to their 
own Countrie at the charge of the Colony ; which was 
soon after done. Moreover, the two Men, Smith and 
Kesar, were duly punished. 

Mr. Richardson said he did make a distinction be- 
tween the stealing of Men from a Nation at Peace with 
us, and the taking of Captives in Warre. The Scrip- 
tures did plainlie warrant the holding of such, and 
especially if they be Heathen. 

Capt Sewall said he did, for himself, look upon all 
slaveholding as contrarie to the Gospel and the Newe 



MABGAEET SMITH'S JOUENAL. 43 

Diftpensation. The Israelites had a special Warrant 
for holding the Heathen in servitude ; but he had 
never heard any one pretend that he had that au- 
thoritie for enslaving Indians and Blackamoors. 

Hereupon, Mr. Richardson asked hira if he did not 
regard Dea. Dole as a godlie Man ; and if he had 
might to say against him and other pious Men who 
held Slaves. And he cautioned him to be careful, lest 
he should be counted an Accuser of the Brethren. 

Here Robert Pike said he would tell of a matter 
which had fallen under his notice. ^^Just after the 
Warre was over," said he, " owing to the loss of my 
Shallop in the Penobscot Bay, I chanced to be in the 
Beigfaborhood of him they call the Baron of Castine, 
who hath a strong Castle, with much cleared land and 
great Fisheries at Byguyduce. I was preparing to 
make a Fire and sleep in the Woods, with my two 
lifen, when a Messenger came from the Baron, saying 
that his master, hearing that strangers were in the 
Neighborhood, had sent him to offer us food and shel- 
ter, as the Night was cold and rainy. So without ado 
we went with him, and were shown into a comfortable 
Room in a wing of the Castle, where we found a great 
fire blazing, and a joint of Venison with wheaten loaves 
on the Table. Afler we had refreshed ourselves, the 
Baron sent for me, and I was led into a large, faire 



44 MARGARET SMITHES JOURNAL. 

room, where he was, with Modockawando, who was 
his Father-in-law, and three or four other Chiefs of the 
Indians, together with two of his Priests. The Baron, 
who was a Man of goodlie appearance, received me 
with much Courtesie ; and when I told him my misfor- 
tune, he said he was glad it was in his power to afford 
us a Shelter. He discoursed ahout the Warre, which 
he said had been a sad thing to the Whites as well as 
the Indisuis, but that he now hoped the peace would be 
lasting. Whereupon, Modockawando, a verie grave 
and serious Heathen, who had been sitting silent with 
his Friends, got up and spoke a loud Speech to me, 
which I did not understand, but was told that he did 
complain of the Whites for holdmg as Slaves sundrie 
Indian captives, declaring that it did provoke another 
Warre. His own Sister's child, he said, was thus held 
in captivitie. He entreated me to see the great Chief 
of our people, (meaning the Glovemor,) and tell him 
that the cries of the Captives were heard by his young 
men, and that they were talking of digging up the 
Hatchet which the old men had buried at Casco. I told 
the old Savage that I did not justify the holding of In- 
dians after the Peace, and would do what I could to 
have them set at Libertie, at which he seemed greatlie 
rejoiced. Since I came back from Castine's countrie, 
I have urged the giving up of the Indians, and many 



liARGARET SMITH's JOURNAL. 45 

have been released. Slavery is a hard lot, and manie 
do account it worse than Death. When in the Barba- 
does, I was told that on one Plantation, in the space of 
five years, a score of Slaves had hanged themselves." 

** Mr. Atkinson's Indian," said Capt. Sewall, " whom 
he bought of a Virginia ship-owner, did, straightway 
on coming to his house refuse Meat ; and although 
Persuasions and Whippings were tried to make him 
eat, he would not so much as take a sip of Drink. I 
saw him, a day or two before he died, sitting wrapped 
up in his Blanket, and muttering to himself. It was a 
sad Sight, and I pray God I may never see the like 
egain. From that time I have looked upon the holding 
of men as slaves as a great Wickedness. The Scrip- 
tures themselves do testify, that he that leadeth into 
captivitie shall go into captivitieJ* 

After the companie had gone, Kebecca sat silent 
and thoughtful for a time, and then bade her young 
serving girl, whom her Father had bought, about a 
year before, of the Master of a Scotch vessel, and who 
had been sold to pay the cost of her Passage, to come 
to her. She asked her if she had aught to complain of 
in her situation. The poor girl looked surprised, but 
said she had not. " Are you content to live as a ser- 
vant ? *' asked Rebecca. " Would you leave me if 
you could ? " She here fell a weeping, begging her 



46 MAB6ABST SMITHES JOITSNAL. 

Mistress not to speak of her leaving. *^ Bat if I should 
tell you that you are free to go or stay, as you will, 
would you be glad or sorry ? " queried her Mistress. 
The poor girl was silent. ^^ I do not wish you to leave 
me Effie," said Rebecca, ^^ but I wish you to know 
that you are from henceforth free, and that if you servie 
me hereafter, as I trust you will, it will be in Love and 
good will, and for suitable Wages." The bondswoman 
did not at the first comprehend the design of her Mis- 
tress, but, on hearing it explained once more, she 
dropped down on her knees, and clasping Rebecca; 
poured forth her Thanks afler the manner of her Peo- 
ple; whereupon Rebecca, greatly moved, bade her 
rise, as she had only done what the Scriptures did 
require in giving to her servant that which is just and 
equal, 

" How easy it is to make others happie, and our* 
selves also ! " she said, turning to me with the Tear 
shining in her Eyes. 

August ye 8th, 1673. 
Elnathan Stone, who died two Days ago, was buried 
this Aflernoon. A verie solemn Funeral — Mr. Rich- 
ardson preaching a sermon from the xxiii Psalm, verse 
the 4th, " Yea, though I walk through the Valley of the 
Shadow of Deaths I will fear no evil^ for thou art with 



MABGABET SMITHES JOURNAL. 47 

me ; thy Rod and thy Staffs Ihey comfort me" Dea. 
Dole provided the Wine and Spirits, and Uncle Raw- 
mm the Beer, and Bread, and Fish for the Entertain- 
inent^ an? others of the neighbors did, moreover, help 
the Widow to sundrie matters of clothing suitable for 
the occasion, for she was verie poor, and, owing to the 
long Captivitie and Sickness of her Son, she hath been 
nmch straitened at times. I am told that Margaret 
Brewster hath been like an Angel of Mercy unto her, 
V!lktcbing often with the sick man, and helping her in her 
WjoriL, so that the poor Woman is now fain to confess 
that she hath a good and kind Heart. A little time 
before Elnathan died, he did eamestlie commend the 
said Margaret to the kindness of cousin Rebecca, en- 
treating her to make interest with the Magistrates, and 
others in authoritie, in her behalf, that they might be 
merciful to her in her outgoings, as he did verilie think 
they did come of a sense of duty, albeit mistaken. 
Mr. Richardson, who hath been witness to her gracious 
deme€Lnor and charity, and who saith she does thereby 
shame manie of his own People, hath often sought to 
draw her away from the new Doctrines, and to set 
before her the dangerous Nature of her Errors, but 
she never lacketh answer of some sort, being naturally 
of good parts and well read in the Scriptures. 



48 . MARGARET SMITHES JOITRNAI.. 

August ye 10th. 
I find the Summer here greatlie unlike that of mine 
own Countrie. The heate is greate, the Sun shining 
verie strong and hright, and for more than a Moodi 
it hath been exceeding dry, without anie consideraUe 
fall of Rain, soe that the Springs fail in manie places, 
cmd the Watercourses are dried up, which doth bring to 
mind verie forcibly the language of Job, concerning 
the Brooks which the Drouth consumeth : ^ What iim 
they wax Warme they vanish ; when it is hot they an 
consumed oute of their place. The Paths of their Wag 
are turned aside; they goe to nothing and perish.* 
The herbage and grass have lost much of the bright 
ness which* they did wear in the earlie Summer ; more- 
over, there be fewer Flowers to be seen. The Fields 
and Roads are dustie, and all things do seem to &int 
and wax old under the intolerable Sun. Great Locusts 
sing sharp in the hedges and bushes, and 6rassh<^ 
pers flie up in clouds, as it were, when one walks over 
the dry grass which they feed upon, and at nightfall 
Musketoes are no small torment Whenever I doe 
look forth at noonday, at which time the air is all i^ 
glow, with a certain glimmer and dazzle like that from 
an hot Furnace, and see the poor flie-bitten Cattell 
whisking their tayles to keep off the venemous insects, 
or standing in the Water of the low grounds for cool- 



MABGARET SMITHES J0VBI7AL. 49 

ness, and the panting Sheep lying together under the 
shade of Trees, I must needs call to mind the Summer 
season of Old England, the cool sea aire, the soft 
dropping Showers, the Fields soe thick with Grasses, 
and skirted with hedge-rows like green walls, the 
Trees and Shruhs all clean and moist, and the Vines 
and Creepers hanging over walls and gateways, verie 
plenteous and heautiful to hehold. Ah me ! oflen in 
these days do I think of Hilton Grange, with its great 
Oaks, and cool breezy Hills and Meadows greene the 
Summer long. I shut mine eyes, and lo ! it is all 
before me like a picture ; I see mine uncle's grey hairs 
beneath the Trees, and my good Aunt standeth in the 
doorway, and Cousin Oliver comes up in his field dress, 
from the Croft or the Mill ; I can hear his merrie 
laugh, and the sound of his Horse's hoofs ringing 
along the gravel way. Our sweet Chaucer telleth of 
a Mirrour in the which he that looked did see all his 
past Life ; that magical Mirrour is no fable, for in the 
memorie of love old things do return and showe them- 
selves as features doe in the Glass, with a perfect and 
most beguiling likeness. 

Last night, Dea. Dole's Indian — One Eyed Tom — 
a surlie Fellow — broke into his Master's shop, where 
he made himself drunk with Rum, and coming to the 
House, did greatlie fright the womenfolk by his threat- 



50 MJLSGARET SKITH^S JOUBMAL. 

ening words and gestures. Now, the Deacon coming m 
home late from the Church meeting, and seeing him ia w 
tiiis way, wherreted him smartlie with his cane ; where- 
upon he ran off, and came up the road howling and 
yelling like an Evil Spirit. Uncle Rawson sent his 
Irish man-servant to see what caused the ado, hut he 
straightway came running hack, screaming, ^^ Murther 1 
murther ! '* at the top of his voice. So Uncle himself 
went to the gate, and presentlie called for a Light, 
which Rebecca and I came with, inasmuch as the 
Irishman and Effie dared not go out. We found Tom 
sitting on the horse-block, the Blood running down his 
Face, and much bruised and swollen. He was verie 
fierce and angrie, saying that if he lived a Month he 
would make him a Tobacco-pouch of the Deaom's 
scalp. Rebecca ventured to chide him for his threats, 
but offered to bind up his head for him, which she did 
with her own Kerchief. Uncle Rawson then bade him 
goe home and get to bedde, and in future let alone 
strong drink, which had been the cause of his beating. 
This he would not do, but went off into the Woods, 
muttering as far as one could hear him. 

This Morning Dea. Dole came in and said his 
servant Tom had behaved badlie, for which he did 
moderately correct him, and that he did thereupon 
run away, and he feared he should lose him. He 



I 



HASfiABET SMITHES JOUBKAL. Al 

:ht him, he said, of Captain Davenport, who 
^t him from the Narragansett Countrie, paying 
ounds and six shillings for him, and he could ill 
so great a Loss. I ventured to tell him that it 
mrong to hold any Man, even an Indian or Guinea 
:, as a Slave. My uncle, who saw that my plain- 
was not well taken, bade me not meddle with 
»8 beyond my depth ; and Deacon Dole, looking 
surlie at me, said I was a forward one ; that he 
noted that I did wear a light and idle look in the 
ing-house; and, pointing with his Cane to my 
3, he said I did render myself liable to present- 
by the Grand Jury for a breach of the Statute 
e General Court, made the Year before, against 
immodest laying out of the Hair," &c. He then 
on to say that he had lived to see strange times, 
I such as I did venture to oppose themselves to 
' and grave People, and to despise Authoritie, and 
jrage Rebellion and Disorder ; and bade me take 
lest all such be numbered with the cursed chil- 
which the Apostle did rebuke : Who^ as natural 
beasts speak evil of things they understand not^ 
ihall utterly perish in their corruption^ My dear 
in Rebecca here put in a word in my behalf, and 
he Deacon that Tom's misbehaviour did all grow 
f the keeping of strong Liquors for sale, and that 



52 MABGARET SMITHES JOURNAL. 

he was wrong to beate him so cruelly, seeing that he 
did himself place the Temptation before him. There- 
upon, the Deacon rose up angrilie, bidding Uncle look 
well to his forward household. "Nay, girls," quoth 
mine Uncle, after his neighbor had left the House, 
" you have angered the good man sorelie." " Never 
heed," said Rebecca, laughing and clapping her hands, 
" he hath got something to think of more profitable, I 
trow, than Cousin Margaret^s Hair or looks in Meet- 
ing. He has been tything of Mint and Anise and 
Cummin long enough, and Wa high time for him to look 
after the weightier matters of the Law." 

The selling of Beer and strong Liquors, Mr. Sewall 
says, hath much increased since the troubles of the 
Colonie and the great Indian Warre. The General 
Court doe take some care to grant Licenses onlie to 
discreet persons, but much Liquor is sold without wa^ 
rant. For mine own part, I think old Chaucer hath it 
right in his Pardoner's Tale : — 



" A likerous thing is Wine, and Dninkenness 
Is full of striving and of wretchedness. 
Oh, drunken Man ! disfigured is thy Face, 
Sour is thy Breath, foul art thou to embrace ; 
Thy Tongue is lost, and all thine honest Care, 
For Drunkenness is very sepulture 
Of man's Wit and his Discretion." 



MABGASET SMITH'S JOUBNAL. y 53 

Agamenticus, August ye 18th. 
The Weather being clear and the heate great, last 
week Uncle and Aunt, with Rebecca and myself, and 
also Leonard and Sir Thomas, thought it a fitting time 
to make a little journey by Water to the Isles of 
Shoals and the Agaraenticus, where dwelleth my Uncle 
Smith, who hath strongly pressed me to visit him. 
One Caleb Powell, a sea-faring man, having a good 
new Boat, with a small Cabin, did undertake to' convey 
us. He is a drolling odd Fellow, who hath been in all 
parts of the World, and hath seen and read much, and 
having a rare memorie, is not ill companie, although 
Uncle saith one must make no small allowance for 
his desire of making his Hearers marvel at his Stories 
and conceits. We sailed with a good Westerlie wind 
down the River, passmg by the great salt Marshes, 
which stretch a long way by the Sea, and in which 
the Town^s people be now verie busie in mowing and 
gathering the grass for Winter^s use. Leaving on our 
right hand Plum Island, (so called on account of the 
rare Plums which doe grow upon it,) we struck into the 
open Sea, and soon came in sight of the Islands of 
Shoals. There be seven of them in all, lying off the 
Town of Hampton on the main land, about a League. 
We landed on that called the Star, and were hospitably 
entertained through the day and night by Mr. Abbott, 



54 ICAS6ABET SMITHES JOUBNAL. 

an old inhabitant of the Islands, and largely employed 
in Fisheries and Trade, and with whom Uncle had 
some Business. In the afternoon Mr. Abbott^s son 
rowed us about among the Islands, and showed us the 
manner of curing the Dun-fish, for which the place is 
famed. They split the fishes, and lay them on the 
Rocks in the Sun, using little Salt, but turning them 
often. There is a Court-house on the biggest Island, 
and a famous School, to which manie of the Planten 
on the main land doe send their children. We noted a 
great Split in the Rocks, where, when the Indians came 
to the Islands manie years ago, and killed some and 
took others captive, one Betty Moody did hide herself, 
and which is hence called ^^ Betty Moody's Hole^^ 
Also, the pile of Rocks set up by the noted Capt. John 
Smith, when he did take possession of the Isles in the 
year 1614. We saw our old acquaintance Peckanam- 
inet and his wife, in a little Birch Canoe^ fishing a 
short way off. Mr. Abbott says he well recollects the 
time when the Agawams were well nigh cut off by the 
Tarratine Indians ; for that earlie one morning, hearing 
a loud yelling and whooping, he went out on the point 
of the Rocks, and saw a great Fleet of Canoes filled 
with Indians, going back from Agawam, and the noise 
they made he took to be their rejoicing over their 
Victorie. 



1CAB6ARET SMITH's JOUBNAL. 55 

In the evening, a cold easterlie Wind began to blow, 
and it brought in from the (3cean a damp Fogg, soe that 
we were glad to get within doors. Sir Thomas enter- 
tained us by his livelie account of things in Boston, and 
1^ a journie he had made to the Providence Plantations. 
He then asked us if it was true, as he had learned from 
Mr. Mather, of Boston, that . there was an House in 
Newbury dolefullie beset by Satan's imps, and that 
the familie could get no sleep because of the doings of 
Evil Spirits. Uncle Rawson said he did hear some- 
thing of it, and that Mr. Richardson had been sent for 
to praye against the mischief. Yet as he did count 
Groody Morse a poor silly woman, he should give small 
heed to her story ; but here was her near neighbour, 
Caleb Powell, who could doubtless tell more concerning 
it Whereupon, Caleb said it was indeed true that there 
was a verie great disturbance in Goodman Morse his 
house ; doors opening and shutting, household stuff 
whisked out of the Room and then falling down the 
Chimnie, and divers other strange things, manie of 
which he had himself seen. Yet he did believe it 
might be accounted for in a natural way, especiallie 
as the old couple had a wicked, graceless Boy living 
with them, who might be able to doe the tricks by his 
greate subtiltie and cunning. Sir Thomas said it 
might be the Boy; but that Mr. Josselin, who had 



56 MARGARET SMITHES JOURNAL. 

travelled much hereabout, had told him that the Indians 
did practice Witchcraft — and that, now they were 
beaten in Warre, he feared they would betake them- 
selves to it, and soe doe by their devilish Wisdom what 
they could not do by force ; and verilie this did look 
much like the beginning of their Enchantments. " That 
the Devil helpeth the Heathen in this matter, I doe my- 
self know for a certaintie," said Caleb Powell ; " for 
when I was at Port Royal manie years ago, I did see 
with mine eyes the burning of an old Negroe Wizard, 
who had done to death manie of the Whites, as well as 
his own People, by a Charm which he brought with 
him from the Guinea countrie." Mr. Hull, the minis- 
ter of the place, who was a lodger in the House, said 
he had heard one Foxwell, a reputable planter at Saco, 
lately deceased, tell of a strange Affaire that did 
happen to himself, in a Voyage to the Eastward. Be- 
ing in a small Shallop, and overtaken by the Night, he 
lay at anchor a little way off the Shore, fearing to land 
on account of the Indians. Now, it did chance that 
they were waked about midnight by a loud Voice from 
the Land, crying out, Foxwell^ come ashore! three 
times over; whereupon, looking to see from whence 
the Voice did come, they beheld a great Circle of Fire 
on the Beach, and Men and Women dancing aboute it 
in a Ring. Presentlie they vanished, and the Fire was 



MARGARET SMITHES JOURNAL. 57 

<lUeDched also. In the morning he landed, but found 
iK) Indians nor English, onlie Brands' ends cast up by 
the Waves ; and he did believe unto the Day of his 
Death that it was a piece of Indian sorcery. " There 
be strange stories told of Passaconaway, the Chief of 
the River Indians," he continued. " I have heard one 
say who saw it, that once at the Patucket Falls, this 
Chief, boasting of his skill in Magick, picked up a dry 
Skin of a Snake, which had been cast ofi* as is the wont 
of the Reptile, and makmg some violent motions of his 
bodie, and calling upon his Familiar, or Demon, he did 
presentlie cast it down upon the Rocks, and it became 
a great black Serpent, which mme mformant saw crawl 
off into some Bushes, verie nimble. This Passacona- 
way was accounted by his Tribe to be a verie cunning 
Conjuror, and they doe believe that he could brew 
Storms, make Water bum, and cause green leaves to 
grow on trees in the Winter ; and, in brief, it may be 
said of him that he was not a whit behind the Magicians 
of Egypt in the time of Moses. 

** There be women in the cold regions about Nora- 
way," said Caleb Powell, " as I have heard the sailors 
relate, who do raise Storms and sink Boats at their 
will." 

" It may well be," quoth Mr. Hull, " since Satan is 
spoken of as the Prince and Power of the Aire." 



S8 MARGARET SMITHES JOURKAL. 

"The profane writers of old time doe make m< 
tion of such Sorceries," said Uncle Rawson. " It 
long since I have read anie of them ; but Virgil a 
Apulius doe, if I mistake not, speak of this power oi 
the Elements." 

" Do you not remember. Father," said Eebec< 
" Some verses of Tibullus, in which he speaketh of 
certain enchantress ? Some one hath rendered thi 
thus : — 

" Her with Charms drawing stars from Heaven, I, 
And turning the course of Rirers, did espy. 
She parts the Elarlh, and Ghosts from Sepulchres 
Draws up, and fetcheth bones away from fires. 
And at her pleasure scatters Clouds in the Aire, 
And makes it Snow in Summer hot and faire." 

Here Sir Thomas laughingly told Rebecca, that 
did put more Faith in what these old writers did 1 
of the Magick Arts of the sweet-singing Syrens, 8 
of Circe and her Enchantments, and of the Illyr 
maidens, so wonderful in their Beautie, who did 1 
with their Looks such as they were angrie with." 

^\ It was, perhaps, for some such reason," said I 
becca, "tliat, as Mr. Abbott tells me, the Gene 
Court manie years ago did forbid Women to live 
these Islands." 

" Pray, how waa that ? " asked Sir Thomas. 



HABGARCT smith's JOURNAL. 59 

** You must know,'* answered our host, " that in the 
^arlie settlement of the Shoals, Vessels coming for Fish 
jpon this Ck>ast did here make their Harbor, bringing 
tiither manie rude Sailors of difierent Nations; and the 
Cknirt judged that it was not a fitting place for Women, 
snd soe did by law forbid their dwelling on the Islands 
belonging to the Massachusetts.*' 

He then asked his Wife to get the Order of the 
Court concerning her stay on the Islands, remarking 
that be did bring her over from the Maine in despite of 
the Law. Soe his Wife fetched it, and Uncle Rawson 
read it, it being to this effect — "That a Petition 
having been sent to the Court, praying that the Law 
might be put in force in respect to John Abbott his 
Wife, the Court doe judge it meet, if no further Com- 
plaint come against her, that she enjoy the companie 
af her Husband.*' Whereat we all laughed heartilie. 

Next morning, the Fogg breaking away earlie, we 
let sail for Agamenticus, running along the coast and 
yff the Mouth of the Piscataqua Eiver, passing near 
Birhere my lamented Uncle Edward dwelt, whose Fame 
IB a worthie Gentleman and Magistrate is still living. 
We had Mount Agamenticus before us all Day-^ 
i &dre stately Hill, rising up as it were from the 
v^ater. Towards Night a smart Shower came on, with 
rhunderings and Lightenings such as I did never see 



<< 



60 MARGARET SMITH'S JOURNAL. 

or hear before ; and the Wind blowing, and a greate 
Raine driving upon us, we were for a time in much 
Peril ; but, through God's mercie, it suddenlie cleared 
up, and we went into the Agamenticus River with a 
bright Sun. Before dark we got to the house of my 
honored Uncle, where, he not being at home, his Wife 
and Daughters did receive us kindlie. 

Scpt'r 10. 
I doe find myself truly comfortable at this place. 
My two cousins, Polly and Thankful, are both young, 
unmarried Women, verie kind and pleasant, and, since 
my Newbury friends left, I have been learning of them 
manie things pertaining to Housekeeping, albeit I am 
still but a poor Scholar. Uncle is Marshall of the 
Province, which takes him much from home, and Aunt, 
who is a sicklie Woman, keeps much in her Chamber, 
soe that the affairs of the Household and of the Planta- 
tion doe mainlie rest upon the young Women. If ever 
I get back to Hilton Grange again, I shall have tales to 
tell of my baking and brewing, of my Pumpkin Pies, 
and Bread made of the Flour of the Indian com ; yea, 
more, of gathering of the wild Fruit in the Woods, and 
Cranberries in the Meadows, milking the Cowes, and 
looking after the Piggs and barn-yard Fowles. Then, 
too, we have had manie pleasant little Journies by 



I MARGARET SMITHES JOURNAL* 61 

Water and on horseback, young Mr. Jordan, of Spur- 
wink, who hath asked Polly in Marriage, going with us. 
A right comelie youth he is, but a great Churchman, 
as might be expected, his Father being the Minister of 
the Black Point People, and verie bitter towards the 
Massachusetts, and its Clergy and Government. My 
Uncle, who meddles little with Church matters, thinks 
him a hopeful young Man, and not an ill Suitor for his 
Daughter. He hath been in England for his learning, 
and is accounted a Scholar, but, although intended for 
the Chuich service, he inclineth more to the Life of a 
Planter, and taketh the charge of his Father's Planta- 
tion at Spurwink. Polly is not beautiful and graceful 
like Rebecca Rawson, but she hath freshness of Youth 
and Health, and a certain good-heartedness of Look 
and Voice, and a sweetness of Temper which doe 
commend her in the Eyes of all. Thankful is older 
by some years, and if not as cheerful and merrie as 
her Sister, it needs not be marvelled at, since one 
whom she loved was killed in the Narragansett countrie 
two Years ago. Oh, these bloodie Warres ! There 
be few in these Eastern Provinces who have not been 
called to mourn the loss of some neare and deare 
friend, soe that of a truth, the land mourns. 



62 MARGARET SMITHES JOURNAL. 

Sepfr ye 18. 
Meeting much disturbed yesterday, a ranting Quaker 
coming in and sitting with his Hat on in Sermon time, 
humming and groaning, and rocking his Bpdie to and 
fro like one possessed. After a time he got up, anl 
pronounced a great Woe upon the Priests, calling Aea 
manie hard Names, and declaring that the whole land 
stank with their Hypocrisie. Uncle spake sharplie to 
him, and bid hold his Peace, but he onlie cried out the 
louder. Some young men then took hold of him, and. 
carried him out. They brought him along close to my 
Seat, he hanging like a Bag of Meal, with his eyes 
shut, as ill-favored a Bodie as I ever beheld. The 
magistrates had him smartly whipped this morning, and 
sent out of the jurisdiction. I was told he was no true 
Quaker, for, although a noisie, brawling hanger-on at 
their Meetings, he is not in fellowship with the more 
sober and discreet of that People. 

Rebecca writes me that the Witchcraft in William 
Morse his house is much talked of, and that Caleb 
Powell hath been complained of as the Wizard. Mr. 
Jordan the elder says he does in no wise marvel at the 
Devil's power in the Massachusetts, since at his insti- 
gation the Rulers and Ministers of the Colonic have 
-d^^^ set themselves against the true and Gospel order of the 
Church, and doe slander and persecute all who will 
not worship at their ConventicVea. 



XARGABET SMITHES JOURNAL. 63 

A Mr. Van Valken, a young Gentleman of Dutch 
descent, and the Agent of Mr. Edmund Andross of the 
Duke of York's Territory, is now in this place, hei.ng 
entertained hy Mr. Godfrey, the late Deputy Governor. 
He brought a letter for me from Aunt Rawson, whom 
he met in Boston. He is a learned, serious Man, hath 
trnvelled a good deal, and hath an Aire of high breed* 
ing. The Minister here thinks him a Papist, and a 
Jesuit, especiallie as he hath not called upon him nor 
been to the meeting. He goes soon to Pemaquid, to 
take charge of that Fort and trading Station, which 
have greadie suffered by the Warre. 

Sept'r ye 30th. 

Yesterday, Cousin Polly and myself, with young 
Mr. Jordan, went up to the Top of the Mountain, which 
is some Miles from the harbor. It is not hard to climb 
in respect to steepness, but it is soe tangled with Bushes 
and Vines, that one can scarce break through them. 
The open places were yellow with Golden Rods, and 
the pale Asters were plenty in the Shade, and by the 
Side of the Brooks, that with pleasing Noise did leap 
down the Hill. When we got upon the Top, which is 
bare and rocky, we had a faire View of the Coast, with 
its many windings and its Islands, from the Cape Ann, 
near Boston, to the Cape Elizabeth, near Casco, the 



64 



Piscataqua and Agamenticus Elvers, and away in the 
Northwest we could see the Peaks of Mountains look- 
ing like summer clouds, or Banks of grey Fogg. 
These Mountains lie manie leagues off in the Wilder- 
ness, and are said to be exceeding loftie. 

But I must needs speak of the Color of the Woods, 
which did greatlie amaze me, as unlike anything I had 
ever seen in old England. As far as mine Eyes could 
look, the mightie Wilderness, under the bright westerly 
Sun, and stirred by a gentle wind, did seem like a 
Garden in its Season of flowering ; green, dark, and 
light, orange, and pale yellow, and crimson leaves, 
mingling and interweaving their various Hues, in a 
manner truly wonderful to behold. It is owing, I am 
told, to the sudden Frosts, which in this Climate doe 
smite the Vegetation in its full Life and greenness, soe 
that in the space of a few days, the Colors of the 
Leaves are marvellously changed and brightened. 
These Colors did remind me of the Stains of the Win- 
dows of Old Churches, and of rich Tapestrie. The 
Maples were all aflame with crimson, the Walnuts 
were orange, the Hemlocks and Cedars were well ni^ 
black, while the slender Birches, with their pale yellow 
Leaves, seemed painted upon them as Pictures are laid 
upon a dark ground. I gazed until mine Eyes grew 
wearie, and a Sense of the wonderful Beautie of the 



MABGARET SMITH's JOURNAL, 65 

visible Creation, and of God's great goodness to the 
Children of Men therein, did rest upon me, and I said 
in mine Heart, with one of old : Oh, Lord ! how 
manifold are thy Works : in wisdom hast thou made 
them ally and the Earth is full of thy Riches, 

Oct. ye 6th. 
Walked out to the Iron Mines, a great Hole digged 
in the rocks, manie years ago, for the finding of Iron. 
Aunt, who was then just settled in housekeeping, 
told me manie wonderful stories of the man who 
caused it to be digged, a famous Doctor of Physick, 
and, as it seems, a great Wizard also. He bought a 
Patent of land on the South side of the Saco River, 
four miles by the Sea, and eight miles up into the main 
land of Mr. Vines, the first owner thereof ; and being 
curious in the seeking and working of Metals, did 
promise himself great riches in this New Countrie, but 
his labours came to nothing, although it was said that 
Satan helped him, in the shape of a little blackamoor 
man-servant, who was his constant familiar. My Aunt 
says she did oflen see him, wandering about among the 
Hills and Woods, and along the banks of Streams of 
Water, searching for precious Ores and Stones. He 
had even been as far as the great Mountains beyond 
Pigwackett, climbing to the top thereof, where the 
5 



66 MARGABET SMITHES JOURNAL* 

snows lie well nigh all the year, his way thither lying 
through doleful Swamps and lonesome Woods. H« 
was a great Friend of the Indians, who held him to be 
a more famous Conjuror than their own Powahs, aod 
indeed he was learned in all curious and Occult Arts, 
having studied at the great College of Padua, and 
travelled in all parts of the Old Countries. He some- 
times stopped in his Travels at my Uncle's house, the 
little Blackamoor sleeping in the bame, for my Aunt 
feared him, as he was reputed to be a wicked Imp. 
Now it soe chanced that on one occasion my Uncle 
had lost a Cowe, and had searched the Woods maoie 
days for her to noe purpose, when this noted Doctoi 
coming in, he besought him to find her out by his skiU 
and learning, but he did straightway denie his power to 
do soe, saying he was but a poor Scholar, and lover of 
Science, and had no greater skill in Occult matters 
than any one might attain to, by patient study of Nat- 
ural things. But as mine Uncle would in no wise be 
soe put off, and still pressing him to try his Art, he 
took a bit of Coal, and began to make marks on tbe 
Floor, in a verie careless way. Then he made a black 
dot in the midst, and bade my Uncle take heed that 
his Cowe was lying dead in that spot ; and my Uncle 
looking at it, said he could find her, for he now knew 
where she was, inasmuch as the Doctor had made a 



MAROABET SMITH'S JOURNAL. 67 

ifiure Map of the Country round about for manie miles. 
Soe he set off, and found the Cowe lying at the foot of 
a great Tree, close beside a Brook, she being quite 
dead, which thing did show that he was a Magician of 
nd mean sort 

My Aunt further said, that in those days there was 
great talk of mines of Gold and precious Stones, and 
many people spent all their substance in wandering 
about over the wilderness country seeking a Fortune in 
this way. There was one old man, who, she remem- 
bered, did roam about seeking for hidden Treasures, 
tmtil he lost his Wits, and might be seen filling a bagg 
with bright stones and shining sand, muttering and 
hmghing to himself. He was at last missed for some 
little time, when he was found lying dead in the Woods, 
sdll holding fast in his hands his bagg of pebbles. 

On my querying whether anie did find Treasures 
hereabout, my Aunt laughed and said she never heard 
of but one man who did soe, and that was old Peter 
Preble of Saco, who growing rich faster than his 
neighbors, was thought to owe his fortune to the finding 
of a Gold or Silver Mine. When he was asked about it, 
he did by no means deny it, but confessed he had found 
treasures in the sea as well as on the land, and point- 
ing to his loaded Fish-flakes and his great Cornfields, 
md '* Here are my Mines.'* Soe that afterwards when 



68 MARGABET SMITlfs JOURNAL. 

any one prospered greatly in his Estate, it was said of 
him by his neighbors, "ife has been working Peter 
Preble's Mine.'' 

Oct'r ye 8th. 
Mr. Van Valken, the Dutchman, had before Mr. 
Rishworth, one of the Commissioners of the Province, 
charged with being a Papist and a Jesuit. He bore 
himself, I am told, haughtilie enough, denying the 
right to call him in question, and threatening the inter- 
ference of his friend and Euler, Sir Edmund, on 
account of the Wrong done him. My Uncle and 
others did testify that he was a civil and courteous 
Gentleman, not intermeddling with matters of a reli- 
gious Nature ; and that they did regard it as a foul 
shame to the Town that he should be molested in this 
wise. But the Mmister put them to silence, by testify- 
ing that he (Van Valken) had given away sundry 
Papist Books ; and, one of them being handed to the 
Court, it proved to be a Latin Treatise, by a famous 
Papist, intituled, " The Imitation of Christ." Here- 
upon, Mr. Godfrey asked if there was aught evil in the 
Book. The Minister said it was written by a Monk, 
and was full of Heresie, favorin gboth the Quakers and 
the Papists ; but Mr. Godfrey told him it had been 
rendered into the English tongue, and printed sopae 



MARGARET SMITHES JOURNAL. 69 

years before in the Massachusetts Bay ; and asked 
him if he did accuse such men as Mr. Cotton and Mr. 
Wilson, and the pious Ministers of their day, of 
Heresie. " Nay," quoth the Minister, " they did see 
the Heresie of the Book, and, on their condemning it, 
the General Court did forbid its sale." Mr. Rishworth 
hereupon said he did judge the Book to be pernicious, 
and bade the Constable burn it in the Street, which he 
did. Mr. Van Valken, after being gravely admonished, 
was set free ; and he now saith he is no Papist, but 
that ho would not have said that much to the Court to 
save his Life, inasmuch as he did deny its right of 
arraigning him. Mr. Godfrey says the Treatment 
whereof he complains is but a sample of what the 
People hereaway are to look for from the Massachusetts 
jurisdiction. Mr. Jordan, the younger, says his Father 
hath a copy of the condemned Book, of the Boston 
printing ; and I being curious to see it, he offers to get 
it for me. 

Like unto Newbury, this is an old Towne for so 
new a Countrie. It was made a city in 1642, and 
took the name of Gorgeana^ after that of the Lord 
Proprietor, Sir Ferdinando Gorges. The Govern- 
ment buildings are spacious, but now falling into 
decay somewhat. There be a few Stone Houses, but 
the major part are framed, or laid up with square 



70 MARGARET SMITHES JOURNAL. 

Loggs. The look of the land a little out of the Towne 
is rude and unpleasing, being much covered with 
Stones and Stumps ; yet the Soil is said to be strong, 
and the Pear and Apple doe flourish well here ; also, 
they raise Rye, Oats, and Barlie, and the Indian Com, 
and abundance of Turnips, as well as Pumpkins, 
Squashes, and Melons. The Warre with the Indians, 
and the troubles and changes of Government, have 
pressed heavilie upon this and other Towns of the 
Maine, soe that I am told that there be now fewer 
wealthie Planters here than there were twenty years 
ago, and little increase of Sheep or horned Cattle. The 
People doe seem to me less sober and grave, in their 
carriage and conversation than they of the Massachu- 
setts — hunting, fishing, and fowling more, and work- 
ing on the land less. Nor doe they keep the Lord's 
Day soe strict; manie of the young People going 
abroad, both riding and walking, visiting each other, 
and diverting themselves, especiallie after the Meetings 
are over. 

Oct'r ye 9th. 
Goodwife Nowell, an ancient gossip of mine Aunt's, 
looking in this Morning, and talking of the tryal of the 
Dutchman, Van Valken, spake of the coming into these 
parts manie Years ago of one Sir Christopher Gardi- 
ner, who was thought to be a Papist. He sought 



MARGAHET SMITH'S JOURNAL. 71 

Lodgings at her House for one whom he called his 
Cousin, a faire young Woman, together with her serv- 
^8 gif^ who did attend upon her. She tarried ahout 
a Month, seeing no one, and going out onlie towards 
the Evening, accompanied by her Servant. She spake 
little, but did seem melancholie, and exceeding mourn- 
iiil, oflen crying very bitterlie. Sir Christopher came 
onlie once to see her, and Nowell saith she well 
remembers seeing her take leave of him on the road 
side, and come back weeping and sobbing dolefuUie ; 
and that a little Time after, hearing that he had gotten 
into trouble in Boston as a Papist, apd Man of loose 
Behavior, she suddenlie took her departure in a Vessel 
mailing for the Massachusetts, leaving to her, in pay for 
House-room and Diet, a few coins, a gold Cross, and 
some silk Stuffs and kerchiefs. The Cross being such 
as the Papists doe worship, and therefore unlawful, 
her husband did beat it into a solid wedge privatelie, 
and kept it from the knowledge of the Minister and the 
Magistrates. But as the poor man never prospered 
after, but lost his Cattell and Grain, and two of their 
children dying of Measles the next year, and he him- 
self being sicklie, and neare his End, he spake to her 
of the Golden Cross, saying that he did believe it was 
a great Sin to keep it, as he had done, and that it had 
wrought evil upon him, even as the Wedge of Gold, 



72 HAEGAXST SMITHES JOUSNAL. 

and the Shekels and Babylonish garment did upon 
Achan, who was stoned, with aD his house, in the 
Valley of Achor; and the Minister coming in, and 
beipg advised concerning it, he jodged that although 
it might be a sin to keep it hidden finom a love of 
Riches, it might, nevertheless, be safelie used to sup- 
pwt Crospel preaching and 'ordinances, and soe did 
hmiself take it away. The Goodwife says, that not- 
withstanding her husband died soon after, yet herself 
and household did from thenceforth begin to amend 
their Estate and Condition. 

Seeing me curious concerning this Sir Christopher 
and his cousin, Gioodwife Nowell said there was a little 
Parcel of Papers which ^e found in her room after 
the young Woman went away, and she thought they 
might yet be in some part of her House, though she 
had not seen them for a score of years. Thereupon, 
I begged of her to look for them, which she promised 
to do. 

Oct. ye 14lh. 
A strange and wonderful Providence! Last night 
there was a great Companie of the neighbors at my 
Uncle^s, to help him in the husking and stripping of the 
Com, as is the custom in these parts. The bam floor 
was about half filled with the Com in its dry Leaves ; 



MABGARET SMITU^S JOURNAL. 73 

the companie sitting down on blocks and stools before 
it plucking off the Leaves, and throwing the yellow 
Ears into Baskets. A pleasant and merrie Evening 
we had; and when the Com was nigh stripped, I 
went into the House with Cousin Thankful, to look to 
the Supper and the laying of the Tables, when we 
beard a loud Noise in the Bam, and one of the Girls 
came running in, crying out, " Oh, Thankful ! Thank- 
ful ! John Gibbins has appeared to us ! — His Spirit is 
iQ the Bam ! " The plates dropped from my Cousin's 
Hand, and, with a faint cry, she fell back against the 
Wall for a little space ; when, hearing a Man's voice 
without, speaking her name, she ran to the Door, with 
the look of one beside herself, while I, trembling to 
see her in such a plight, followed her. There was a 
clear Moon, and a tall Man stood in the Light close to 
the Door. 

*' John," said my Cousin, in a quick choking Voice, 
** Is it you ? " 

" Why, Thankful, don't you know me ? I'm alive, 
but the Folks m the Bam will have it that I'm a Ghost," 
said the Man, springing towards her. 

With a great Cry of Joy and Wonder, my Cousin 
caught hold of him : " Oh, John, you are alive ! " 

Then she swooned quite away, and we had a deal to 
do to bring her to Life again. By this time, the House 



was full of People, and among the rest came John^s dd 
Mother and his Sisters, and we all did weep and laugh 
at the same Time. As soon as we got a little quieted, 
John told us that he had indeed been grievouslj 
stunned by the Blow of a Tomahawk, and left for dead 
by his comrades, but that after a time he did come to 
hb Senses, and was able to walk, but, falling into the 
hands of the Indians, he was carried off to the French 
Canadas, where by reason of his great sufferings on the 
way, he fell Sick, and lay for a long time at the pdnt 
of Death. That when he did get about again, the 
Savage who lodged him, and who had taken him as a 
Son, in the place of his own, slain by the Mohawks, 
would not let him go home, although he did confess 
that the Warre was at an end. His Indian father, he 
said, who was feeble and old, died not long ago, and 
he had made his way home by the way of Crown 
Point and Albany. Supper being readie, we all sat 
down, and the Minister, who had been sent for, offered 
Thanks for the marvellous preserving and restoring of 
the friend who was lost and now was found, as also 
for the blessings of Peace, by reason of which every 
Man could now sit under his own Vine and Fig treCf 
with none to molest or make him afraid^ and for the 
abundance of the Harvest, and the Treasures of the 
Seas, and the Spoil of the Woods, soe that our Laud 



MAEGAEET SMITH'S J0X7ENAL, 78 

might take up the song of the Psalmist: The Lord 
doth build up Jerusalem ; he gather eth the outcasts of 
Israel; he healeth the broken in heart. Praise thy 
God, oh Zion / For he slrengtheneth the Bars of thy 
Gates, he maketh peace in thy Borders, andfilleth thee 
vnth the finest of Wheat, Oh ! a sweet Supper we 
had, alheit little was eaten, for we were filled full of 
Joy, and needed not other Food. When the companie 
had gone, my dear Cousin and her Betrothed went a 
little apart, and talked of all that had happened unto 
them during their long Separation. I left them sitting 
lovingly together in the Light of the Moon, and a 
measure of their unspecduihle happiness did go with 
roe to my Pillow. 

This morning. Thankful came to my bedside to pour 
out her Hearte to me. The poor girl is like a new 
creature. The Shade of her heavy Sorrow, which did 
formerlie rest upon her Countenance, hath passed ofiT 
like a morning cloud, and her Eye hath the light of a 
deep and quiet joy, 

" I now know," said she, " what David meant when 
he said, ' We are like them that Bream ; our Mouth 
is filled with Laughter, and our Tongue with Singing; 
The Lord hath done great things for us, whereof we 
are glad ! ' " 



76 M^BGARET SMITHES JOURNAL. 

October ye 18t)u 
A cloudie wet Day. Goody Nowell brought me 
this morning a little Parcel of Papers, which she found 
in the corner of a Closet. They are much stained and 
smoked, and the Mice have eaten them sadlie, soe that 
I can make little of them. They seem to be letters, 
and some fragments of what did take place in the life 
of a young Woman of Qualitie from the North of 
England. I find frequent mention made of Cousin 
Christopher, who is also spoken of as a Soldier in the 
Warres with the Turks, and as a Knight of Jerusalem. 
Poorly as I can make out the meaning of these 
Fragments, I have read enough to make my Hearte 
sad, for I gather from them that the young Woman 
was in earlie life betrothed to her Cousin, and that 
afterwards, owing, as I judge, to the Authoritie of her 
Parents, she did part with him, he going abroad, and 
entering into the Warres, in the belief that she was to 
wed another. But it seemed that the Hearte of the 
young Woman did so plead for her Cousin, that she 
could not be brought to marry as her Familie willed 
her to do ; and after a lapse of years, she, by chance 
hearing that Sir Christopher had gone to the New 
England, where he was acting as an agent of his 
kinsman. Sir Ferdinando Gorges, in respect to the 
Maine Province, did privately leave her home, and 



HASGABET SMITHES JOUBNAL. 77 

take passage in a Boston bound Ship. How she did 
Baake herself known to Sir Christopher, I find no 
mention made ; but, he now being a Knight of the 
Order of St. John of Jerusalem, and vowed to forego 
Marriage as is the rule of that Order, and being more- 
)yer, as was thought, a Priest or Jesuit, her great love 
ind constancy could meet with but a sorrowful return 
•n his part. It does appear, however, that he jour^ 
eyed to Montreal, to take counsel of some of the 
reat Papist Priests there, touching the obtaining of a 
)]spensation from the Head of the Church, so that he 
light marry the young woman ; but getting no encour- 
gement therein, he went to Boston to find a Passage 
or her to England again. He was there complained 
if as a Papist; and the coming over of his Cousin 
>eing moreover known, a great and cruel Scandal did 
irise from it, and he was looked upon as a Man of 
^vil life, though I find nothing to warrant such a 
S^otion, but much to the contrary thereof. What 
)ecame of him, and the young woman, his Cousin, in 
he end, I doe not learn. 

One small Parcel did affect me even unto Tears. It 
Mras a paper containing some dry, withered Leaves of 
Roses, with these Words written on it : " To Anna, 
Trom her loving Cousin, Christopher Gardiner, being 
the first Rose that hath blossomed this Season in the 



78 MARGARET SMITHES JOURNAL. 

College garden. 5^. Omer^s, June^ 1630." I could 
but think how many Tears had been shed over this 
little Token, and how often, through long, wearie years, 
it did call to mind the sweet Joy of earlie Love, of that 
fairest blossom of the Spring of Life of which it was 
an Emblem, alike in its beautie and its speedy with- 
ering. 

There be moreover among the papers sundrie 
Verses, which do seem to have been made by Sir 
Christopher; they are in the Latin tongue, and in- 
scribed to his Cousin, bearing date manie years before 
the twain were in this Countrie, and when he was yet 
a Scholar at the Jesuits' College of St. Omer's, in 
France. I find nothing of a later time, save the 
Verses which I herewith copie, over which there are, 
in a Woman's handwriting, these Words : 



" VERSES 

" Writ by Sir Christopher when a Prisoner amonff the 7\irks in 
Moldavia^ and expecting Death at their hands. 



" Ere down the blue Carpathian hills 

The San shall fall again, 
Farewell this life and all its ills, 

Farewell to Cell and Chainel 



KABOARET SMITHES JOURNAL. 79 

2. 
" These Prison shades are dark and cold, 

Bat darker far than they 
The shadDW of a Sorrow old 

Is on mine Hearte alway. 

3. 
" For since the day when Warkworth wood 

Closed o'er my Steed, and I — 
An alien from my Name and Blood — 

A Weed cast oat to die ; 

4. 
" When, looking back, in snnset light 

I saw her Turret gleam. 
And from its window, far and white, 

Her sign of farewell stream ; 

6. 

" Like one who from some desart shore 

Does home's green Isles descrie, 
And, Tainlie longing, gazes o'er 

The waste of Wave and Skie. 

6. 
" So from the desart of my Fate 

Gaze I across the past ; 
And still upon life's dial-plate 

The Shade is backward cast ! 

7. 
" I've wandered wide from shore to shore, 

I've knelt at manie a Shrine, 
And bowed me to the rocky floor 

Where Bethlehem's tapers shine ; 



80 MARGASET SMITHES JOVBVAL. 

8. 
" And by the Holy Sepulchre 

I've pledged my knightlie sword, 
To Christ his blessed Church, and her 

The Mother of our Lord I 

9. 
" Oh, Taine the Vow, and vaine the strife ! 

How vaine do all things seem ! 
My soal is in the Past, and Life 

To-day is but a Dreame. 

10. 
'' In Taine the penance strange and long, 

And hard for Flesh to bear, 
The Prayer, the Fasting, and the Thong, 

And Sackcloth Sbirte of Haire; 

11. 

" The Eyes of Memorie will not sleep, 

Its Ears are open still. 
And Vigils with the Past they keep 

Against or with my Will. 

12. 
" And still the Loves and Hopes of old 

Doe eyermore uprise ; 
I see the flow of Locks of Grold, 

The Shine of loving Eyes. 

13. 
" Ah me I upon another's Breast 

Those golden Locks recline ; 
I see upon another rest 

The Glance that once was mine ! 



MAieABET smith's JOUBNAL. 81 

14. 
" » Oh, faithless Priest » oh, perjured Knight ! ' 

I heare the Master crie, 
* Shut out the Vision from thy sight. 

Let Earth and Nature die. 

19. 

" * The Church of God is now my Spouse, 

And thou the Bridegroom art ; 
Then let the burden of thy Vows 

Keep down thy human Hearte.' 

16. 
" In Taine ! — This Hearle its griefe must know 

Till life iuelf hath ceased. 
And falls beneath the self-same blow 

The Lover and the Priest ! 

17. 
" Oh, pitying Mother ! Souls of Light,. 

And Saints and Martyrs old, 
Praye for a weak and sinful Knight, 

A suffering Man uphold. 

18. 
" Then let the Paynim work his will. 

Let Death unbind my Chaine, 
Ere down yon blue Carpathian hill 

The sunset falls again 1 *' 

!earte is heavie with the thought of these unfor- 
is. Where be they now ? Did the Knight forego 
Ise Worship and his Vows, and soe many his 
6 



82 MARGARET SMITHES JOURNAL. 

beloved Anna ? Or did they part forever, she going 
back to her kinsfolk, and he to his companions of 
Malta ? Did he perish at the Hands of the Infidels, 
and does the maiden sleep in the familie Tomb, under 
her father's Oaks ? Alas ! who can tell ? I must 
needs leave them, and their Sorrows and Trjrals, to 
Him who doth not willingly afflict the children of men; 
and whatsoever may have been their Sins and their 
Follies, my prayer is, that they may be forgiven, for 
they loved much. 

The 20th October. 

I do purpose to start to-morrow for the Massachu- 
setts, going by boat to the Piscataqua River, and thence 
by horse to Newbury. 

Young Mr. Jordan spent yesterday and last Night 
with us. He is a goodlie Youth, of a very sweet and 
gentle disposition ; nor doth he seem to me to lack 
spirit, although his Father (who liketh not his quiet 
ways and easy temper, so contrarie to his own, and 
who is sorely disappointed in that he hath chosen the 
life of a Farmer to that of a Minister, for which he did 
intend him) often accuseth him of that Infirmitie. Last 
night we had much pleasant Discourse touching the 
choice he hath made ; and when I told him that pe^ 
haps he might have become a great Prelate in the 



MAEGARET SMITHES JOURNAL. 83 

Church, and dwelt in a Palace, and made a great Lady 
of our Cousin, whereas now I did see no better pros- 
pect for him than to raise Come for his Wife to make 
Pudding of, and chop Wood to boil her Kettle, he 
laughed right merrilie, and said he should never have 
gotten higher than a Curate in a poor Parish ; and as 
for Polly, he was sure she was more at home in making 
Puddings than in playing the fine Liady. 

** For my part," he continued, in a serious manner, 
" I have no notion that the Pulpit is my place ; I like 
the open Fields and Skie better than the grandest 
Churches of man^s building; and when the Wind 
sounds in the great grove of Pines on the Hill near 
our house, I doubt if there be a quire in all England 
so melodious and solemn. These painted autumn 
Woods, and this sunset Light, and yonder Clouds of 
gold and purple, doe seem to me better fitted to pro- 
voke devotional thoughts, and to awaken a becoming 
' Reverence and Love for the Creator, than the stained 
Windows and loftie arched Roofs of old Minsters. I 
doe know, indeed, that there be manie of our poor 
busie Planters, who, by reason of ignorance, ill-breed- 
ing, and lack of quiet for Contemplation, doe see 
nothing in these things, save as they do affect their 
Crops of Grain or Grasses, or their bodilie Comforts, 
in one way or another. But to them whose Minds 



84 MARGARET SMITHES JOURNAL. 

have been enlightened and made large and free by 
Study and much Reflection, and whose eyes have been 
taught to behold the beautie and fitness of things, and 
whose ears have been so opened that they can hear the 
ravishing Harmonies of the Creation, the life of a 
Planter is verie desirable even in this Wilderness, and 
notwithstanding the toil and privation thereunto appe^ 
taining. There be Fountains gushing up in the hearts 
of such, sweeter than the springs of water which flow 
from the hill-sides, where they sojourn ; and therein, 
also, Flowers of the Summer doe blossom all the year 
long. The brutish Man knowelh not this^ neither doth 
the Fool comprehend itJ^ 

" See now," said Polly to me, " how hard he is upon 
us poor unlearned folk." 

" Nay, to tell the truth," said he, turning towards 
me, " your Cousin here is to be held not a little ac- 
countable for my present inclinations ; for she it was 
who did confirm and strengthen them. While I had 
been busie over Books, she had been questioning the 
Fields and the Woods ; and, as if the old Fables of the 
Poets were indeed true, she did get Answers from 
them, as the Priestesses and Sybils did formerlie from 
the rustling Leaves of Trees and Sounds of running 
Waters ; so that she could teach me much concerning 
the uses and virtues of Plants and Shrubs, and of 



MABGARET SMITHES JOURNAL. 85 

fheir time of flowering and decay, of the nature and 
habitudes of wild Animals and Birds, the changes of 
the Aire, and of the Clouds and Winds. My Science, 
80 called, had given me little more than the names of 
things which to her were familiar and common. It 
was in her companie that I learned to read Nature as 
a Book always open, and full of delectable teachings, 
until my poor school-lore did seem undesirable and 
tedious, and the verie Chatter of the noisie Blackbirds 
in the Spring Meadows more profitable and more 
pleasing than the angrie disputes and the cavils and 
subtilties of schoolmen and divines.'' 

My Cousin blushed, and, smiling through her moist 
Eyes at this language of her beloved friend, said that 
I must not believe all he said ; for, indeed, it was along 
of his studies of the heathen Poets that he had first 
thought of becoming a Farmer. And she asked him 
to repeat some of the Verses which he had at his 
tongue's end. He laughed, and said he did suppose 
she meant some lines of Horace, which had been thus 
Englished, — 

" I often wished I had a Fann, 
A decent Dwelling, snug and warm, 
A Grarden, and a Spring as pure 
As Crystal flowing by my Doore, 
Besides an ancient oaken Grove, 
Where at my leisure I might rove. 



86 MARGABET SMITHES JOURNAL. 

" The gracious Grods, to crown my bliss, 
Have granted this, and more than this — 
They promise me a modest Spouse, 
To light my Hearth and keep my House. 
I ask no more than, free from strife, 
To hold these Blessings all my life ! " 

I am exceedingly pleased, I must say, with the prospect 
of my Cousin Polly. Her suitor is altogether a worthie 
young Man, and, making allowances for the uncer- 
taintie of all human things, she may well look forward 
to a happie Life with him. I shall leave behind me on 
the Morrow, dear friends, who were Strangers unto me 
a few short weeks ago, but in whose joys and sorrows 
I shall henceforth always partake, so far as I do come 
to the knowledge of them, whether or no I behold their 
Faces anie more in this life. 



Hampton, Oct. ye 24th, 1678. 
I took leave of my good friends at Agamenticus, or 
York, as it is now called, on the Morning after the last 
date in my Journal, going in a Boat with my Uncle to 
Piscataqua and Strawberry Bank. It was a cloudie 
Day, and I was chilled through before we got to the 
mouth o£ the Siver ; but as the high Wind was much 



KABOABBT SMITHES JOUBNAL. 87 

in our faTor, we were enabled to make the Voyage in 
a shorter time than is common. We stopped a little 
at the house of a Mr. Cutts, a man of some Note in 
these parts ; but he being from home, and one of the 
children sick with a Quinsie, we went up the River to 
Strawberry Bank, where we tarried over night The 
Woman who entertained us had lost her Husband in 
the Warre, and having to see to the ordering of 
mattero out of Doors in this busie season of Harvest, 
it was no marvel that she did neglect those within. I 
made a comfortable supper of baked Pumpkin and 
Milk, and for lodgings I had a straw Bed on the Floor, 
in the dark Loft, which was piled well nigh full with 
Ck>me ears, Pumpkins, and Beanes, besides a great 
deal of old household trumperie, Wool, and Flax, and 
the Skins of Animals. Although tired of my Journey, 
it was some little time before I could get asleep ; and 
it soe fell out, that after the Folks of the house were 
all abed, and still, it being, as I judge, nigh midnight, 
I chanced to touch with my foot a Pumpkin lying near 
the Bedd, which set it a rolling down the Stairs, 
bumping hard on every Stair as it went. Thereupon 
I heard a great stir below, the Woman and her three 
Daughters crying out that the house was haunted. 
Presentlie she called to me from the foot of the 
Stairs, and asked me if I did hear any thing. I laughed 



88 MAR6ABET SMITHES JOURNAL. 

soe at all this, that it was some time before I could 
speak ; when I told her I did hear a thumping on the 
Stairs. " Did it seem to go up, or down ? " inquired 
she, anxiouslie ; and on my telling her that the Sound 
went downward, she set up a sad Crie, and they all 
came fleeing into the Corn-loft, the Girls bouncing 
upon my Bedd, and hiding under the Blanket, and the 
old Woman praying and groaning, and saying that she 
did believe it was the Spirit of her poor Husband. 
By this time my Uncle, who was lying on the Settle in 
the Room below, hearing the Noise, got up, and 
stumblmg over the Pumpkin, called to know what was 
the matter. Thereupon the Woman bade him flee 
up Stairs, for there was a Ghost in the Kitchen. 
" Pshaw ! " said my Uncle, " is that all ? I thought to 
be sure the Indians had come.'' As soon as I could 
speak for laughing, I told the poor Creature what it 
was that so frightened her ; at which she was greatlie 
vexed; and after she went to Bedd again, I could 
hear her scolding me for playing Tricks upon honest 
people. 

We were up betimes in the morning, which was 
bright and pleasant. Uncle soon found a friend of his, 
a Mr. Weare, who, with his Wife, was to goe to his 
home, at Hampton, that day, and who did kindlie 
engage to see me thus far on my way. At about 8 



KimajJtST sxith's joihuial. 80 

of the clock got upon our horses, the Woman riding 
on a Pillion behind her Husband. Our way was for 
tome miles through the Woods, getting at times a view 
of the Sea, and passing some good, thriving Planta- 
tion8« The Woods in this Countrie are by no means 
like those of England, where the ancient trees are 
kept clear of Bushes and undergrowth, and the Sward 
beneath them is shaven clean and close ; whereas here 
they be much tangled \^ ith Vines, and the dead Boughs 
and Logs which have fallen, from their great age, or 
which the Storms do beat off, or the winter Snows and 
Ices doe break down. Here, also, through the thick 
matting of dead leaves, all manner of Shrubs and 
Bushes, some of them verie sweet and faire in their 
flowering, and others greatlie prized for their healing 
Virtues, doe grow up plenteouslie. In the season of 
them, manie wholesome Fruits abound in the woods, 
such as blue and black Berries. We passed many 
Trees, well loaded with Walnuts and Oylnuts, seeming 
all alive, as it were, with Squirrels, striped, red, and 
grey, the last having a large, spreading Tayle, which 
Mr. Weare told me they doe use as a Sail, to catch the 
wind, that it may blow them over Rivers and Creeks, 
on pieces of Bark, in some sort like that wonderful 
shell fish which transformeth itself into a Boat, and 
saileth on the Waves of the Sea. We also found 



90 MABGJLBET SMITH'S JOURNAL. 

Grapes, both white and purple, hanging down in 
Clusters from the Trees, over which the Vines did run, 
nigh upon as large as those which the Jews of old 
plucked at Eschol. The Aire was sweet and sof\, and 
there was a clear but not a hot sun, and the chirping 
of Squirrels and the noise of Birds, and the sound -,^1 
of the Waves breaking on the Beach a little dis- 
tance off, and the leaves, at every breath of the 
Wind in the tree tops, whirling and fluttering down 
about me, like so manie yellow and scarlet-colored 
Birds, made the Ride wonderfullie pleasant and 
entertaining. 

Mr. Weare, on the way, told me that there was 
a great talk of the bewitching of Goodman Morse his 
house at Newbury, and that the case of Caleb Powell 
was still before the Court, he being vehementlie 
suspected of the Mischief. I told him I thought the 
said Caleb was a vaine, talking man, but nowise of a 
Wizard. The thing most against him, Mr. Weare 
said, was this : that he did deny at the first that the 
house was troubled by Evil Spirits, and even went so 
far as to doubt that such things could be at all. " Yet 
manie wiser men than Caleb Powell doe deny the 
same," I said. " True," answered he, " but, as good 
Mr. Richardson, of Newbury, well saith, there have 
never lacked Sadducees, who believe not in Angel or 



KARGABtiT SMITHES JOURNAL. 91 

Spirit.^' I told the storie of the disturbance at Straw- 
beny Bank the Night before, and how so silly a thing 
as a rolling Pumpkin did greatlie terrifie a whole 
Household ; and said I did not doubt this Newbury 
trouble was something verie like it. Hereupon the 
good Woman took the matter up, saying she had been 
over to Newbury, and had seen with her own Eyes 
and heard with her own Ears ; and that she could say 
of it as the Queen of Sheba did of Solomon's glory, 
" The half had not been told her." She then went on 
to tell me of manie marvellous and trulie unaccounta- 
ble things, so that I must needs think there is an 
invisible Hand at work there. 

We peached Hampton about one hour before Noon ; 
and riding up the Road towards the Meeting-house, to 
my great joy. Uncle Rawson, who had business with 
the Commissioners then sitting, came out to meet me, 
bidding me go on to Mr. Weare his house, whither he 
would follow me when the Court did adjourn. He 
came thither accordingly, to sup and lodge, bringing 
with him Mr. Pike the elder, one of the Magistrates, a 
grave, venerable man, the Father of mine old acquaint- 
ance, Robert. Went in the evening, with Mistress 
Weare and her maiden sister, to see a young girl in 
the Neighborhood, said to be possessed, or bewitched ; 
but for mine own part, I did see nothing in her 



92 MARGARET SMITHES JOURNAL. 

behavior beyond that of a vicious and spoiled Child, 
delighting in Mischief. Her grandmother, with whom 
she lives, lays the blame on an ill-disposed Woman, 
named Susy Martin, living in Salisbury. Mr. Pike, 
who dwells near this Martin, saith she is no Witch, 
although an arrant Scold, as was her mother before 
her ; and as for the Girl, he saith that a birch twig, 
smartlie laid on, would cure her sooner than the hang- 
ing of all the old Women in the Colonie. Mistress 
Weare says this is not the first time the Evil Spirit bath 
been at work in Hampton ; for they did all remember 
the case of Goody Marston's child, who was, from as 
faire and promising an infant as one would wish to see, 
changed into the Likeness of an Ape, to the great 
Griefe and sore Shame of its Parents ; and, moreover, 
that when the child died, there was seen by more than 
one person a little old Woman in a blue Cloak, and 
Petticoat of the same color, following on after the 
Mourners, and looking verie like old Eunice Cole, 
who was then locked fast in Ipswich jail, twenty miles 
off. Uncle Rawson says he has all the papers in his 
possession touching the tryal of this Cole, and will let 
me see them when we get back to Newbury. There 
was much talk on this matter, which so disturbed my 
Fancie, that I slept but poorly. This afternoon we go 
over to Newbury, where indeed I doe greatlie long to 
be once more. 



KASGABET SMITH'S JOU&NAL. 93 

Newbury, Oct. ye 26. 

Cousin Rebecca gone to Boston, and not expected 
home until next Week. The House seems lonelie 
without her. R. Pike looked in upon us this morning, 
telling us that there was a rumor in Boston, brought by 
way of the New York Colony, that a great Papist Plot 
had been discovered in England, and that it did cause 
much alarm in London, and thereabout. R. Pike saith 
he doubts not the Papists doe plott, it being the custom 
of their Jesuits soe to doe ; but that nevertheless, it 
would be no strange thing if it should be found that the 
Bishops and the Government did set this rumor a-going, 
for the excuse and occasion of some new Persecutions 
of Independents and godly people. 

Oct. ye 27. 
Mr. Richardson preached yesterday, from Deuter- 
onomy xviii, 10th, 11th, and 12th verses. An ingeni- 
ous and solid Discourse, in which he showed that, as 
among the Heathen Nations surrounding the Jews, 
there were Sorcerers, Charmers, Wizards, and Con- 
tolters with Familiar Spirits, who were an abomination 
to the Lord, soe in our time, the Heathen Nations of 
Indians had also their Powahs and Panisees, and 
devilish Wizards, against whom the warning of the 
Text might well be raised by the Watchmen on the 



94 



Walls of our Zion. He moreover said that the Arts of 
the Adversary were now made manifest in this place 
in a most strange and terrible manner, and it did 
become the dutie of all Godlie Persons tp pray and 
wrestle with the Lord, that they who have made a 
Covenant with Hell may be speedily discovered in 
their Wickedness, cuid cut off from the Congregation. 
An awful Discourse, which made manie tremble and 
quake, and did quite overcome Goodwife Morse, she 
being a weaklie Woman, soe that she had to be carried 
out of the Meeting. 

It being cold Weather, and a damp easterly Wind 
keeping me within doors, I have been looking over 
with Uncle his Papers about the Hampton Witch, 
Eunice Cole, who was twice tried for her Mischiefs ; 
and I incline to copie some of them, as I know they 
will be looked upon as worthie of Record by my dear 
Cousin Oliver and mine other English friends. I find 
that as long ago as the year 1656, this same Eunice 
Cole was complained of, and manie Witnesses did 
testify to her Wickedness. Here foUoweth some of 
the Evidence on the first Tryal : 

" The Deposition of (joody Marston and Goodwife Susanna 
Palmer, who, being sworne, sayeth, that Goodwife Cole saith 
that shee was sure there was a Witch in Towne, and that she 
knew where hee dwelt, and who they are, and that 13 years 



95 



agoe ahee knew one bewitched as Goodwife Marston's child 
was, and shee was sure that party was bewitched, for it told 
hersoe, and it was changed from a Man to an Ape, as Goody 
Marstoo's child was, and shee had prayed this 13 year that 
God would discover that Witch. And further the deponent 
Baith not. 

" Taken on Oath before ye Commissioners of Hampton, ye 
8th of ye 2nd mo., 1656. 

William Fuller. 
Henry Dow. 
" Vera copea : 

"Thos. Bradbury, Recorder, 

" Swome before, ye 4th of September, 1656, 

" Edward Rawson. 

" Thomas Philbrick testifieth that Goody Cole told him that 
if anie of his Calves did eat of her grass, she hoped it would 
poysen them ; and it fell out that one never came home 
againe, and the other coming home died soon ailer. 

'* Henry Morelton's wife and Goodwife Sleeper depose 
that, talking about Goody Cole and Marston's childe, they did 
hear a great scraping against the boards of the window, which 
was not done by a catt or dogg. 

«* Thomas Coleman's wife testifies that Goody Cole did re- 
peat to another the verie words which passed between herself 
and her husband, in their own house, in private ; and Thomas 
Ormsby, the constable of Salisbury, testifies, that when he 
did strip Eunice Cole of her shift, to be whipped, by the 
judgment of the Court at Salisbury, he saw a Witch's Mark 
under her left breast. Moreover, one Abra. Drake doth de- 
pose and say, that this Goody Cole threatened that the hand 
of God would be against his Cattel, and forthwith two of his 
Cattel died, and before the end of Summer a third also." 



96 MARGARET SMITH's JOUSNAI.. 

About five years ago, she was again presented by 
the Jury for the Massachusetts jurisdiction, for having 
" entered into a covenant with ye Divil, contrary to ye 
peace of our Sovreign Lord the King, his crowne, aod 
dignity, the laws of God and this jurisdiction ; '' and 
much Testimony was brought against her, tending to 
showe her to be an arrant Witch. For it seems she did 
fix her evil Eye upon a little Maid named Ann Smith, 
to entice her (o her house, appearing unto her in the 
Shape of a little old Woman, in a blue Coat, a blue 
Capp, and a blue Apron, and a white Neckcloth, and 
presentlie changing into a Dogg, and running up a tree, 
and then into an Eagle flying in the Aire, and lastlie 
into a grey Catt, speaking to her, and troubling her in 
a grievous manner. Moreover, the Constable of the 
Town of Hampton testifies, that, having to supplie 
Goody Cole with diet, by order of the Town, she being 
poor, she complained much of him, and afler that his wife 
could bake no Bread in the Oven which did not speed- 
ilie rot and become loathsome to the Smell, but the 
same Meal baked at a neighbor's made good and 
sweet bread ; and, further, that one night there did 
enter into their chamber a smell like that of the be- 
witched Bread, only more loathsome, and plainlie dia- 
bolical in its nature, soe that, as the Constable his wif^ 
saith, ^^ she was fain to rise in ye night and desire her 



KABOASET SMITHES JOURNAL. 97 

isband to goe to prayer to drive away ye Divil ; and 
>, rising, went to prayer, and after that the smell 
as gone, soe that they were not troubled with it.^' 
here is also the testimony of Goodwife Perkins, that 
le did see, on the Lord's day, while Mr. Dalton was 
reaching, an Imp in the shape of a Mouse, fall out 
e bosom of Eunice Cole down into h^ lap^ For all 
hich, the County Court, held at Salisbury, did order 
» to be sent to the Boston Jail to await her tryal at 
e Court of Assistants. This last Court, I learn from 
ine Uncle, did not condemn her, as some of the evi- 
mce was old, and not reliable. Uncle saith she was a 
icked old Woman, who had been often whipped and 
it in the ducking-stool, but whether she was a Witch 
* no, he knows not for a certaintie. 

November ye 8th. 
Yesterday, to my great joy, came my beloved Cousin 
ebecca from Boston. In her companie also came the 
orthy Mmister and Doctor of Medicine, Mr. Buss, for- 
erly of Wells, but now settled at a plantation near Co- 
leco. He is to make some little tarry in this Towne, 
here at this present time manie complain of sickness, 
ebecca saith he is one of the excellent of the Earth, 
id, like his blessed Liord and Master, delighteth in 
nng aboute doing good, and comforting both soul and 
7 



98 MABfiAEBT SMITH'S JOUSNAI.. 

bodie. He hath a cheerful, pleasant Countenance, aod 
is Yerie actnre, albeit he is well stricken in years. He 
is to preach for Mr. Ilichards<m next Sabbath, and ia 
the mean time lodgeth at my Uncle^s Houae. 

This morning the Weather is mw and cM^ the 
ground frozen, and some snow fell before sunrise. A 
little time ago, Doct Buss, who was walking in the 
garden, came in a great haste to the Window where 
Bebecca and I were sitting, bidding us come f<»rtb. 
Soe we hurrying out, the good man bade us look 
whither he pointed, and lo, a Flock of wild Geeae, 
streaming across the Skie, in two great files, sending 
down, as it were, from the Clouds, their load and so* 
norous Trumpetings, '^ Cranky cronk^ enmk /" These 
birds, the Doctor saith, do goe Northward in A^brch to 
hatch their Broods in the great Ix^gs and on the deso- 
late islands, and fly back again when the cold Season 
approacheth. Our worthie guest improved the occasion 
to speak of the care and goodness of God towards His 
creation, and how these poor Birds are enabled,!^ 
their proper instincts, to partake of His bountie, and to 
shun the evils of adverse climates. He never looked, 
he said, upon the Flight of these Fowls, without calling 
to mind the query which was of old put to Job : Doth 
the Hawk Jlie hy iky wisdom^ and streUk her wings 
toward the south 7 Doth the Eagle mammi mp alihji 
command^ and moke ker nest on kigkl 



KAsaABBT smith's jottbnal. 90 

November ye 12th, 1678. 
Doct Russ preached yesterday, having for his text 
1 Corinthiaiis, chap, xiii, verse 5. Charity seeketh not 
her own. He began by saying that mutual Benevo- 
lence was a Law of Nature — no one being a Whole 
of himself, nor capable of happilie subsisting by him- 
self, but rather a Member of the great Body of Man- 
kind, which must dissolve and perish, unless held 
together and compacted in its various parts by the 
Force of that common and blessed Law. The wise 
Author <^ our being hath most manifestlie framed and 
fitted us for one another, and ordained that mutual Char- 
ity shall supplie our mutual Wants and Weaknesses, 
inasmuch as no man liveth to himself^ but is dependent 
upon others, as others be upon him. It hath been said 
by ingenious men, that in the outward World all things 
do mutually operate upon and affect each other ; and 
tbat it is by the energie of this principle that our solid 
Earth is supported, and the Heavenly Bodies are made 
to keep the riiythmic Harmonies of their Creation, and 
dispense upon us their benign favors ; and it may be 
said, that a Law akin to this hath been ordained for the 
moral world — mutual Benevolence being the cement 
and support of Families, and Churches, and States, 
and of the great Communitie and Brotherhood of Man- 
kind. It doth both make and preserve all the Peace, 



-■• 



100 IfABGASBT SMITHES JOmUCAL. 

and Harmony, and Beauty, which liken our World in 
some small degree to Heaven, and without it all things 
would rush into Confusion and Discord, and the Earth 
would become a place of Horror and Torment, and 
men become as ravening Wolves, devouring and being 
devoured by one another. 

Charity is the second great Commandment, upon 
which hang all the Law and the Prophets ; and it is 
like unto the first, and cannot be separated from it ; for 
at the Great Day of Recompense we shall be tried by 
these Commandments, and our faithfulness unto the 
first will be seen and manifested by our faithfulness 
unto the last. Yea, by our Love of one another the* 
Lord will measure our Love of Himself. Inasmuch as 
ye have done it unto one of the least of these my Brethr 
reny ye have done it unto me. The Grace of Benevo- 
lence is therefore no small part of our meetnessfor the 
inheritance of the Saints in Light ; it is the Temper of 
Heaven ; the Aire which the Angels" breathe ; an im- 
mortal Grace — for when Faith which supporteth us 
here, and Hope which is as an Anchor to the tossed 
Soul, are no longer needed. Charity remaineth forever, 
for it is native in Heaven, and partaketh of the Divine 
Nature, for God himself is Love. 

" Oh, my hearers," said the Preacher, his venerable 
Face brightening as if with a Light shining from with- 



XASGABET SMITH'S JOURNAL. • 101 

in, *^ doth not the Apostle tell us that skill in Tongues 
•ad gifts of Prophecie, and mysteries of Knowledge 
and Faith, doe avail nothing where Charity is lacking ? 
What avail great Talents, if they be not devoted to 
goodness ? On the other hand, where Charity dwel- 
leth, it maketh the Weak strong and the Uncomelie 
beautiful ; it sheddeth a Glory about him who possesseth . 
it, like that which did shine on the face of Moses, or 
that which did sit upon the countenance of Stephen, 
whea his Face was as the Face of an Angel. Above 
all, it conformeth us to the Son of God ; for through 
Love he came among us, and went about doing good, 
•adorning his life with Miracles of Mercy, and at last 
laid it down for the Salvation of Men. What heart 
can resist his melting entreatie: Even as I have 
loved you, love ye also one another ! 

*' We doe all," he continued, " seek after Happi- 
ness, but too often blindlie and foolishlie. The selfish 
man, striving to live for himself, shutteth himself up to 
partake of his single Portion, and marvelleth that he 
cannot enjoy it. The good things he hath laid up for 
himself fail to comfort him ; and although he hath 
Riches, and wanteth nothing for his Soul of all that he 
desireth, yet hath he not power to partake thereof. They 
be as delicates poured upon a Mouth shut up, or as 
Meats set upon a Grave. But he that hath found 



1(H2 MABGABET SMITH'S JOUBNAI*. 

Charity to be the Temper of Happiness, which doth 
put the Soul in a natural and easj condition, and 
openeth it to the Solaces of that pure and subliine 
Entertainment which the Angels doe spread for audi 
as obey the will of their Creator, hath discovered t 
more subtle Alchemy than anie of which the Philoso- 
^ phers did dream — for he transmuteth the EnjoymentB 
of others into his own, and his large and open Heaite 
partaketh of the Satisfaction of all around him. Are 
there any here who, in the midst of outward Abun- 
dance, are sorrowful of Heart — who go mourning oa 
their way, from some inward Discomfort — who long 
for Serenity of Spirit, and cheerful happiness, as the 
Servant earnestlie desireth the Shadow? Let such 
seek out the Poor and ForseJsen, they who have no 
homes nor estates, who are the Servants of Sin and 
evil Habits, who lack Food for both the Body and the 
Mind. Thus shall they, in remembering others, forget 
themselves ; the Pleasure they edford to their fellow* 
creatures shall come back larger and fuller unto their 
own Bosoms, and they shall know of a truth how much 
the more blessed it is to give than to receive. In Love 
and Compassion, God hath made us dependent upon 
each other, to the end that by the use of our Affections 
we may find true happiness and rest to our Souls. He 
hath united us so closely with our Fellows, that they do 



JCAR6ABET SMITHES JOURNAL. 103 

make, as it were, a part of our being, and in comfort* 
log them we doe most assuredly comfort ourselves. 
Therein doth Happiness come to us unawares, and 
widiout vseeking, as the Servant who goeth on his 
Master's Errand findeth pleasant Fruits and sweet 
Flowers overhanging him, and cool Fountains, which 
be knew not of, gushing up by the Wayside, for his 
solace and refreshing.^' 

The Minister then spake of the Duty of Charity 
towards even the sinful and froward, and of winning 
them by love and good will, and making even their 
correction and punishment a means of awakening them 
to Repentance, and the calling forth of the Fruits meet 
for it. He also spake of self-styled Prophets and 
Enthusiastic People, who went about to crie against 
the Church and the State, and to teach new Doctrines, 
flaying that oftentimes such were sent as a judgment 
upon the professors of the Truth, who had the Form 
of godliness onlie, while lacking the Power thereof; 
and that he did believe that the zeal which had been 
manifested against such had not always been enough 
seasoned with Charity. It did argue a lack of Faith in 
the Truth, to fiie into a Panick and a great Rage 
when it was called in question; and to undertake to 
become God's avengers, and to torture and bum Her* 
etics, was an errcNr of the Papists, which ill became 



104 MARGARET SMITHES JOURNAL. 

those who had gone out from among them. Moreover, 
he did believe that manie of these people, who had so 
troubled the Colonie of late, were at heart simple and 
honest men and women, whose Heads might indeed be 
imsound, but who at Hearte sought to do the Will of 
(jod ; and, of a truth, all could testify to the sobriety 
and strictness of their Lives, and the justice of their 
Dealings in outward things. 

He spake also somewhat of the Indians, who, he 
said, were our Brethren, and concerning whom we 
would have an Account to give at the Great Day. The 
hand of these heathen People had been heavy upon 
the Colonies, and manie had suffered from their cruel 
Slaughterings, and the captivitie of themselves and 
their Families. Here the aged Minister wept, for he 
doubtless thought of his Son, who was slaine in the 
Warre ; and for a time the words did seem to die in 
his throat, so greatlie was he moved. But he went on 
to say, that since Grod, in his great and undeserved 
Mercy, had put an End to the Warre, all present un- 
kindness and hard dealing towards the poore benighted 
Heathen was an Offence in the eyes of Him who re- 
specteth not the Persons of Men, but who legardeth 
with an equal Eye the ^\llite and the Red Men, both 
being the workmanship of His hands. It is our blessed 
privilege to labor to bring them to a knowledge of the 



JIABGABET SMITHES JOURNAL. 105 

True God, whom, like the Athenians, some of them 
doe ignorant lie worshipp, while the greater part, as 
was said of the Heathen formerlie, doe not^ out of the 
good things that are seen, know Him that is; neither 
ty considering the Works doe they acknowledge the 
Work-master, but deem the Fire or Wind, or the swift 
jlir, or the Circle of the Slars^ or the violent Water, 
or the Lights of Heaven, to be the Gods who govern 
the World. 

He counselled ftgainst Mischief-makers and stirrers 
up of Strife, and such as doe desire occasion against 
their Brethren. He said that it did seem as if manie 
thought to atone for their own Sins hy their great heat 
and zeal to discover Wickedness in others ; and that 
he feared such might he the case now, when there was 
much talk of the outward and visible doings of Satan 
in this place ; whereas, the Enemy was most to be 
feared who did work privily in the Hearte ; it being a 
small thing for him to bewitch a dwelling made of 
Wood and Stone, who did soe easilie possess and en- 
chant the precious Souls of men. 

Finally, he did exhort all to keep Watch over their 
own Spirits, and to remember that what Measure they 
doe mete to others shall be measured to them again, to 
lay aside all wrath and malice and evil speaking, to 
bear one another's burdens, and soe make this Church 



106 MARGARET SMITHES JaXTRNAL. 

in the Wilderness beautiful and comelie, an example to 
the World of that Peace and Good Will to men, whidi 
the Angels sang of at the Birth of the blessed Be* 
deemer. 

I have been the more careful to give the substance 
of Mr. Russ his sermon, as nearly as I can remember 
it, forasmuch as it hath given (Mence to some who did 
listen to it. Dea. Dole saith it was such a Discourse 
as a Socinian or a Papist might have preached, for 
the great stress it laid upon Works ; and Groodwife 
Matson, a noisie, talking Woman — such an one, no 
doubt, as those busy-bodies whom Saint Paul did 
rebuke for Forwardness, and commcuid to keep Silence 
in the Church — says the preacher did goe out of his 
way to favor Quakers, Indians, and Witches ; and that 
the Devil in Goody Morse's house was no doubt well 
pleased with the Discourse. R. Pike saith he does no 
wise marvel at her complaints ; for when she formerlie 
dwelt at the Marblehead fishing Haven, she was one of 
the unruly Women who did break into Thompson's 
garrison House, and barbarously put to death two 
Saugus Indians, who had given themselves up for safe 
keeping, and who had never harmed anie, which thing 
was a great Grief and Scandal to all well-disposed 
People. And yet this Woman, who scrupled not to 
say that she would as lief stick an Indian as a Hogg, 



XABGARET SMITHES JOURNAL, 107 

and who walked all the way from Marblehead to Bos- 
ton to see the Quaker Woman hung, and did foully 
jest over her dead Bodie, was allowed to have her way 
in the Church, Mr. Richardson being plainlie in fear of 
her ill Tongue and wicked Temper. 

November ye 13th. 
The Quaker maid, Margaret Brewster, came this 
Morning inquiring for the Doctor, and desiring him to 
yisit a sick man at her Father^s house, a little way up 
the River; whereupon, he took his Staff, and went 
with her. On his coming back, he said he must doe 
the Quakers the justice to say, that, with all their 
Heresies, and pestilent errors of Doctrine, they were a 
kind People ; for here was Goodman Brewster, whose 
small Estate had been well nigh taken from him in 
fines, and whose Wife was a weak, ailing Woman, who 
was at this time kindlie lodging and nursing a poor, 
hroken-down Soldier, by no means likely to repay him, 
in any sort. As for the sick Man, he had been hardlie 
treated in the matter of his Wages, while in the Warre, 
and fined, moreover, on the Ground that he did pro- 
fane the Holy Sabbath ; and though he had sent a 
Petition to the Honorable Governor and Council, for 
the remission of the same, it had been to no purpose. 
Mr. Russ said he had taken a copie of this PetitioUf 



108 MABGARET SMITHES JOURNAL. 

with the Answer thereto, intending to make another 
Application himself to the Authorities ; for although 
the Petitioner might have heen hlameable, yet his 
Necessitie did goe far to excuse it. He gave me the 
Papers to copy, which are cus followeth : 

*^To the Hon. the Governor and Council, now Ming in 
Boston, July 30, 1676. The PetUion of Jonathan ^ik- 
erton humbly showdh: 

" That your Petitioner, being a soldier under Capt. Hench- 
man, during their aboad at Concord, Capt. H., under pretence 
of your Petitioner's profanation of the Sabbath, had sentenced 
your Petitioner to lose a fortnight's Pay. Now, the thing that 
was alledged against your Petitioner was, that he cutt a piece 
of an old Hatt to put in his Shooes, and emptied three or 
four Cartridges. Now, there was great occasion and neces- 
sity for his soe doing, for his Shooes were grown soe bigg, by 
walking and riding in the wet and dew, that they galled his 
Feet soe that he was not able to goe without paine ; and his 
Cartridges, being in a Bagg, were worne with continual 
travell, soe that they lost the Powder out, so that it was dan- 
gerous to carry them ; besides, he did not know how soon he 
should be forced to make use of them, therefore he did ac- 
count it lawful to doe the same ; yet, if it be deemed a Breach 
of the Sabbath, he desires to be humbled before the Lord, and 
beggs the pardon of his People for any offence done to them 
thereby. And doth humbly request the favor of your honors 
to consider the premises, and to remit the fine imposed upon 
him, and to give order to the Committee for the Warr for the 
payment of his Wages. So shall he forever pray." 

•* Aug. 1676. — The Council sees no cause to grant the Pe- 
titioner any reliefe" 



MABGARET SMITHES JOURNAL. 109 

Newbury, Nov. 18, 1678. 
Went yesterday to the haunted house with Mr. Russ 
ind Mr. Richardson, Rebecca and Aunt Rawson being 
in the companie. Found the old couple in much 
trouble, sitting by the fire, with the Bible open before 
tfaem, and Goody Morse weeping. Mr. Richardson 
asked Goodman Morse to tell what he had seen and 
heard in the house ; which he did, to this effect : That 
there had been great and strange Noises all about the 
liouse, a banging of doors, and a knocking on the 
boards, and divers other unaccountable Sounds ; that 
he had seen his box of Tools turn over of itself, and the 
tools flie about the room ; Baskets dropping down the 
Chimnie, and the Pots hanging over the fire smiting 
against, each other ; and, moreover, the Irons on the 
hearth jumping into the pots, and dancing on the table. 
Groodwife Morse said that her Bread-tray would upset 
of its own accord, and the great woolen Wheel would 
contrive to turn itself upside down, and stand on its 
end : and that when she and the Boy did make the 
beds, the Blankets would fly off as fast as they put 
them on, all of which the boy did confirme. Mr. 
Russ asked her if she suspected anie one of the mis- 
chief ; whereupon, she said she did believe it was done 
by the seaman Powell, a cunning man, who was wont 
to boast of his knowledge in astrology and astronomy 



no MARGARET SMITHES JOURNAL. 

having been brought up under one Norwood, who if 
said to have studied the Black Art. He had wickedly 
accused her grandson of the mischief, whereas th» 
poor Boy had himself suffered greatly froia the E?i 
Spirit, having been often struck with stones and bits d \ 
boards, which were flung upon him, and kept awakt 
o^ nights by the diabolical noises. Goodman Mooe 
here said that Powell, coming in and pretending to 
pity their lamentable case, told them that if they would 
let him have the Boy for a day or two, they should be 
free of the trouble while he was with him ; and that 
the Boy going with him, they had no disturbance in 
that time ; which plainly showed that this Powell had 
the wicked Spirits in his keeping, and could chaia 
them up, or let them out, as he pleased. 

Now, while she was speaking, we did all hear a 
great thumping on the Ceilmg, and presentlie a piece 
of a board flew across the room against the chair 
on which Mr. Richardson was sitting; whereat, the 
two old people set up a dismal groaning, and the Boy 
cried out, "That's the Witch!" Goodman Morse 
begged of Mr. Richardson to fall to praying, wluch he 
presentlie did ; and, when he had done, he asked Mr. 
Russ to follow him, who sat silent and musing a litde 
while, and then prayed that the worker of the distu^ 
banco, whether diabolical or human, might be discov* 



MAHft/IEKT SMITHES JOURNAL* Hi 

•Eod and brought to light After which there was no 

sane wkule we staid. Mr. Buss talked awhile with the 

Boy, who did stoutly deny what Caleb Powell charged 

vpon him, and showed a bruise which he got from a 

Stick thrown at him in the Cow-house. When we 

"weiit away, Mr. Richardson asked Mr. Russ what he 

thought of it Mr. Russ said, the matter had indeed a 

strange look, but that it might be nevertheless the 

work <^ the Boy who was a cunning young Rogue, and 

capable beyond his years. Mr. Richardson said he 

hoped his Brother was not about to countenance the 

sco^iB and Sadducees, who had all along tried to 

throw doubt upon the matter. For himself he did look 

upon it as the work of invisible Demons, and an awful 

proof of the existence of such, and of the deplorable 

condition of all who fall into their hands ; moreover, 

he did believe that God would overrule this malice of 

the Devil for good, and make it a means of awakening 

nnners and lukewarm Church members to a sense of 

their danger. 

Last night, brother Leonard, who is studying with 
the learned Mr. Ward, the Minister at Haverhill, came 
down, in the companie of the worshipful Major Salton- 
stall, who hath business with Esquire Dummer and 
other Magistrates of this place. Mr. SaltonstalPs lady, 
who is the daughter of Mr. Ward, sent by her bus- 



113 



band and my brother, a very kind and pressing invitt^ 

tion to Rebecca and myself to make a visit to her; 

and Mr. Saltonstall did also urge the matter strongly. 

Soe we have agreed to goe with them the day ate 

to-morrow. Now, to say the truth, I am not sorrie to 

leave Newbury, at this time, for there is soe much talk 

of the bewitched House, and such dismal stories told of 

the power of invisible Demons, added to what I did 

myself heare and see yesterday, that I can scarce deep 

for the trouble and disquiet this matter causeth. Doct 

Buss, who lef\ this morning, said, in his opinion, ^ 

less that was said and done about the Witchcraft the 

better for the honor of the Church and the peace of the 

Neighborhood ; for it might, after all, turn out to be 

nothing more than an "old wife's fable;" but if it 

were indeed the work of Satan, it could, he did believe, 

do no harm to sincere and godlie People, who lived 

sober and prayerful lives, and kept themselves busy in 

doing good. The doers of the Word seldom fell into 

the snare of the Devil's enchantments. He might be . 

compared to a wild Beast, who dareth not to meddle Jii 

with the traveller who goeth straightway on his Errand, i^ 

but lieth in wait for such as loiter and fall asleep by h 

the wayside. He feared, he said, that some in our day ^ 

were trying to get a great Character to themselves, as k 

the old Monks did, by their skill in discerning Witch* 



\ 



XABGARET SMITHES JOURNAL. 113 

otafb, and their pretended conflicts with the Devil in 
kis bodilie shape ; and thus while they were seeking to 
drive the enemy out of their neighhor^s Houses, they 
'were letting him into their own Hearts, in the guise of 
deceit and spiritual pride. Repentance, and works 
Beet for it, were the best exorcism ; and the savor of 
m good life driveth off Evil Spirits, even as that of the 
ii^ of Tobit, at Ecbatana, drove the Devil from the 
chamber of the Bride into the uttermost parts of Eg3rpt. 
•* For mine own part," continued the worthie man, " I 
helieve the Lord and Master, wh<»n I seek to serve, is 
•ver all the powers of Satan ; therefore doe I not heed 
^m, being afraid onlie of mine own accusing con- 
•dence and the displeasure of God." 

We are all loath to lose the good Doctor's companie. 
An Israelite indeed ! My Aunt, who once tarried for 
a little time with him for the benefit of his skill in 
Physick, on account of sickness, tells me that he is as 
a fiither to the people about him, advising them in all 
tiieir temporal Concerns, and bringing to a timely and 
wise settlement all their Disputes, soe that there is no- 
where a more prosperous and loving society. Although 
accounted a learned Man, he doth not perplex his 
liearers, as the manner of some is, with dark and diffi- 
cult questions, and points of doctrine, but insisteth 
mainly on holiness of life and conversation. It is said 
8 



114 KASGAEBT SMITHES JOinUCAL. 

that on one occauon, a famous schoolman and disinter 
from abroad, coming to talk with him on the matter of 
the damnation of Infants, .did meet him with a Ciadk 
on his shoulder, which he was carrying to a young 
Mother in his neighborhood, and when the Man tdd 
him his errand, the good Doctor bade him wait until he 
got back, for said he, '^ I hold it to be vastly more im- 
portant to take care of the bodies of the little Infants 
which God in his love sends among us, than to seek to 
pry into the mysteries of His will concerning their 
souls.'' He hath no salary or tythe, save the use of a 
House and Farm, choosing rather to labor with his own 
hands than to burthen his neighbors ; yet such is their 
love and good will, that in the busy seasons of the Hay 
and Corn harvest, they all join together and help him 
in his fields, counting it a special privilege to do so. 

Not. ye 19. 
Leonard and Mr. Richardson, talking upon the mat- 
ter of the Ministry, disagreed not a little. Mr. Eich- 
ardson says my brother hath got into his head manie 
unscriptural notions, and that he will never be of service 
in the Church until he casts them off. He saith, more- 
over, that he shall write to Mr. Ward concerning the 
errors of the young man. His words troubling me, 1 
straightway discoursed jny brother as to the points of 



HAHGASBT SMITHES JOVBNAL. 115 

fiffiKrence between them ; but he, smiliDg, said it was 
a long Storie, but that some time he would tell me the 
nAMtance of the Disagreement, bidding me have no 
Rhut in his behalf, as what had displeasured Mr. Rich- 
ardson had arisen only from tenderness of conscience. 



HaTerhiU, Not. ye 2S. 
Left Newbury day before yesterday. The day cold, 
Imt sunshiny, and not unpleasant Mr. Saltonstall's 
IniBinesB calling him that way, we crossed over the 
fenry to Salisbury, and, after a ride of about an hour, 
got to the Falls of the Powow River, where a great 
stream of water rushes violently down the rocks, into 
a dark wooded YaQey, and from thence runs into the 
Merrimack, about a mile to the South East. A wild 
flight it was, the water swollen by the Rains of the 
■eason, foaming and dashing among the rocks and the 
trees, which latter were well nigh stripped of their 
leaves. Licaving this place, we went on towards 
Haverhill. Just before we entered that Town, we 
overtook an Indian, with a fresh Wolf's skin hanging 
over his shoulder. As soon as he saw us, he tried to 
bide himself in the Bushes ; but Mr. Saltonstall, riding 



116 MARGABET SMITH'S JOURNAL. 

up to him, asked him if he did expect Haverhill folb 
to pay him 40 shillings for killing that Amesbarj 
wolf? " How you know Amesbury wolf? " asked the 
Indian. " Oh ! " said Mr. Saltonstall, " you canH 
cheat us again, Simon. You must be honest, and tell 
no more lies, or we will have you whipped for your 
tricks." The Indian thereupon looked sullen enough, 
but at length he begged Mr. Saltonstall not to tell where 
the Wolf was killed, as the Amesbury folks did now 
refuse to pay for anie killed in their Town ; and, as he 
was a poor Indian, and his Squaw much sick and could 
do no work, he did need the money. Mr. Saltonstall 
told him he would send his Wife some Ck>m-meal and 
Bacon, when he got home, if he would come for them, 
which he promised to do. 

When we had ridden off, and left him, Mr. Salton- 
stall told us that this Simon was a bad Indian, who when 
in drink was apt to be saucie and quarrelsome ; but 
that his Wife was quite a decent bodie for a savage, 
having long maintained herself and children and her 
Mazy cross husband, by hard labor in the Cornfields and 
at the Fisheries. 

Haverhill lieth very pleasantlie on the river side ; the 
land about hilly and broken, but of good quality. Mr. 
Saltonstall liveth in a statelie house for these parts, not 
far from that of his father-in-law, the learned Mr. Ward. 



uabgjlret smithes journal. 117 

Madam his wife is a fair, pleasing young woman, 
not unused to society, their house being frequented 
by many of the first people hereabout, as well as by 
strangers of distinction from other parts of the country. 
We had hardly got well through our Dinner, (which 
was abundant and savory, being greatlie relished by 
our hunger,) when two Gentlemen came riding up to 
the door ; and on their coming in, we found them to be 
die young Doctor Clark, of Boston, a son of the old 
Newbury physician, and a Doctor Benjamin Thomp- 
son, of B^xbury, who I hear is not a little famous for 
his ingenious poetry and witty pieces on manie subjects. 
He was, moreover, an admirer of my Cousin Rebecca ; 
and on learning of her betrothal to Sir Thomas, did 
write a most despairing Verse to her, comparing him- 
self to all manner of lonesome things, soe that when 
Rebecca showed it to me, I told her I did fear the poor 
young Gentleman would put an end to himself, by 
reason of his great sorrow and disquiet; whereat 
she laughed merrily, bidding me not fear, for she 
knew the Writer too well to be troubled thereat, for he 
loved nobody soe well as himself, and that under no 
provocation would he need the Apostle's advice to the 
Jailer, " Doe thyself no harm.^'* All which I found to 
be true — he being a gay, witty man, full of a fine 
conceit of himself, which is not so much to be mar- 



118 MABGAKET SMITHES JOUBNAL. 

veiled at, as he hath been greatly flattered and sooglii 
after. 

The excellent Mr. Ward spent the evening with us; 
a pleasant, social old man, much beloved by his people. 
He told us a great deal about the earlie settlement <rf 
the Town, and of the grievous hardships which manie 
did undergo the first season, from cold, and hunger, 
and sickness. He thought, however, that, with all 
their ease and worldlie prosperitie, the present Gene- 
ration were less happy and contented than their Others; 
for there was now a great striving to outdo each other 
in Luxury and gay Apparel, the Lord's day was not soe 
well kept as formerlie, and the drinking of spirits and 
frequenting of ordinaries and places of public resort 
vastly increased. Mr. Saltonstall said the Warre did 
not a little demoralize the people, and that since the 
Soldiers came back, there had been much trouble in 
Church and State. The General Court, two years ago, 
had made severe Laws against the provoking evils of 
the times : profaneness. Sabbath-breaking, drinking, 
and revelling to excess, loose and sinful conduct on the 
part of the young and unmarried, pride in dress, 
attending Quakers' Meetings and neglect of attendance 
upon Divine worship ; but these Laws had never been 
well enforced, and he feared too manie of the Magis- 
trates were in the condition of the Dutch Justice in the 



JUBGASBT smith's JOUBMAL* 119 

New York Province, who, when a woman was brought 
before him, charged with robbing a hen-roost, did 
request his brother on the Bench to pass sentence upon 
her ; for, said he, if I send her to the Whipping-post, 
the wench will crie out against me as her accomplice. 

Doct. Clark said his friend, Doct. Thompson, had 
written a long piece on this untoward state of our 
Afiairs, which he hoped soon to see in print, inasmuch 
as it did hold the Looking Glass to the face of this 
Generation, and shame it by a comparison with that 
of the 'Generation which has passed. Mr. Ward said 
he was glad to hear of it, and hoped his ingenious 
friend had brought the Manuscript with him ; where- 
upon, the young gentleman said he did take it along 
with him, in the hope to benefit it by Mr. Ward's judg- 
ment and learning, and with the leave of the Companie 
he would read the Prologue thereof. To which we all 
agreemg, he read what follows, which I copy from his 
Book: — 

'* The times wherein old Pumpkin was a saint, 
When men fared hardlie, yet without complaint, 
On vilest cates ; the daintie Indian maize 
Was eat with clam-shells out of wooden Trayes. 
Under thatched roofs, without the crie of rent. 
And the hest sawce to every dish, Content. 
These golden times (too fortunate to hold) 
Were quicklie sinned away for love of Gold. 



ISO MAB6A££T SMITHES JOUKIIAI.. 

'Twas then among the bushes, not the street, 
If one in place did an inferior meet, 
* Good morrow, brother ! Is there aught you want ? 
Take freely of me what I have, you han't.' 
Plain Tom and Dick would pass as current now, 
As ever since ' Your servant, sir,' and bow. 
Deep-skirted doublets, puritanick capes. 
Which now would render men like upright Apes, 
Was comelier wear, our wise old fathers thought. 
Than the cast fashions from all Europe brought. 
'Twas in those days an honest grace would hold 
Till an hot Pudding grew at heart a cold, 
And men had better stomachs for Religion, 
Than now for capon, turkey-cock, or pidgeon ; 
When honest sisters met to praye, not prate. 
About their own and not their neighbors' state. 
During Plain Dealing's reign, that worthy stud 
Of the ancient planter-race before the Flood. 
These times were good : merchants cared not a rash 
For other fare than Jonakin and Mush. 
And though men fared and lodged verie hard, 
Tet Innocence was better than a guard. 
'Twas long before spiders and worms had drawn 
Their dingy webs, or hid with cheating Lawne 
New England's beauties, which still seemed to me 
Illustrious in their own simplicitie. 
'Twas ere the neighboring Virgin Land had broke 
The hogsheads of her worse than hellish smoak ; 
'Twas ere the Islands sent their presents in. 
Which but to use was counted next to sin ; 
'Twas ere a barge had made soe rich a freight 
As chockolate, dust-gold, and bits of eight; 



MABOASBT SMITHES JOURNAL. ISl 

Ere wines from France and MuscoYadoe toO| 

Without the which the drink will scarcelie doe. 

From Western Isles, ere fruits and delicasies 

Did rot maids* teeth and spoil their handsome faces, 

Or ere these times did chance the noise of Warre 

Was from oar times and hearts removed far, 

Then had the Churches rest : as yet, the coals 

Were covered up in most contentious souts ; 

Freeness in judgment, union in affection. 

Dear love, sound truth, they were our grand protection. 

Then were the times in which our Councils sate, 

These gave Prognosticks of our future state ; 

If these be longer lived, our hopes increase. 

These Warres will usher in a longer peace ; 

But if New England's Love die in its youth. 

The grave will open next for blessed Truth. 



" This theame is out of date ; the peaceful hours 
When Castles needed not, but pleasant bowers, 
Not ink, but blood and tears now serve the tuin 
To draw the figure of New England's nrn. 
New England's hour of passion is at hand, 
Noe power except Divine can it withstand. 
Scarce hath her glass of fifly years run oute. 
Than her old prosperous Steeds turn heads aboute ; 
Tracking themselves back to their poor beginnings, 
To fear and fare upon the fruits of sinnings. 
Soe that this mirrour of the Christian world 
Lies burnt to heaps in part, her Streamers furled. 
Grief sighs, joys flee, and dismal fears surprise, 
Not dastard spirits only, but the Wise. 



122 MAXGASST smith's JCiUWXAL, 

" Thus hare the frimt hofMs deceived the cje 
or the bif-swofai expectants stancBiif by : 
So the pnMHl Shi|i, after a little tarn. 
Sinks ia the Oceaa's ames to fiad its wna : 
Thus hath the heir to aiaaie thowadw botae 
Been in an instant fioia the mother ton ; 
Eren thns thy infant cheek begins to pale. 
And thy supporters throofh great hisses iaiL 
This is the Probgne to thj fatare wm — 
The Cpikigne no mortal yet can know." 



Mr. Ward was much pleased with the Teises, saying 
that they would do honor to any Writer. Rehecca 
thought the lines concerning the long grace at meat 
happy, and said she was minded of the Wife of the 
good Mr. Ames, who prided herself on her skill in 
Housewifery and Cookery ; and on one occasion, see- 
ing a nice pair of roasted Fowls growing cold under 
her hushand^s long grace, was fain to jog his Elhow, 
telling him that if he did not stop soon, she feared they 
would have small occasion for thankfulness for their 
spoiled dbner. Mr. Ward said he was once travelling 
in companie with Mr. Phillips, of Rowley, and Mr. 
Parker of Newhury, and stopping all night at a poor 
house neare the Sea shore, the Woman thereof brought 
into the room for their supper a great wooden Tray, 
full of something nicely covered up by a clean linen 
cloth. It proved to be a dish of boiled Clams, in their 



M410AEKT smith's JOinUIAXM ISS 

^Us; and as Mr. Phillips was remarkable in his 
^'^^nks for aply citing passages of Scripture with regard 
^ M^hatsoeyer food was upon the table before him, Mr. 
^Vrker and himself did greatlie wonder what he could 
^y of this Dish ; but he, nothing put to it, offered 
thanks that now, as formerly, the Lord's People were 
Enabled to partake of the abundance of the seas, and 
treasures hid in the sands, ^^ Whereat,'^ said Mr. 
\Vard, ^^ we did find it soe hard to keep grave coun* 
tenances, that our good hostess was not a little disturb- 
ed, thinking we were mocking her poor Fare ; and we 
were fain to tell her the cause of our Mirth, which was 
indeed ill-timed.^' 

Dr. Clark spake of Mr. Ward's Father, the renowned 
Minister at Ipswich, whose Book of ^' The Simple Cob« 
bier of Agawam," was much admired. Mr. Ward 
said that some of the witty turns therein did give much 
ofience at the time of its printing, but that his Father 
coald never s[k>il his joke for the sake of friends, albeit 
be had no Malice towards any one, and was always 
readie to do a good, even to his enemies. He once 
even greatly angered his old and true friend, Mr. 
Cotton of Boston. '' It fell out in this wise," said Mr. 
Ward. ^ When the arch heretick and fanatick Gorton 
and his crew were in prison in Boston, my Father and 
Mr. Cotton went to the Jail window to see them ; and 



124 MARGARET SMITHES JOURNAL. 

after some little Discourse with them, he told Gorton 
that if he had done or said anie thing which he could 
with a clear conscience renounce, he would do well to 
recant the same, and the Court, he douhted not, would 
be merciful ; adding, that it would be no disparage- 
ment for him to do so, as the best of men were liable 
to err ; as, for instance, his brother Cotton here gen- 
erally did preach that one year which he publicklie 
repented of before his Congregation the next year." 

Mr. Saltonstall told another story of old Mr. Ward 
which made us all merrie. There was a noted Anti- 
nomian, of Boston, who used to goe much about the 
country disputing with all who would listen to him, 
who, coming to Ipswich one night with another of his 
sort with him, would fain have tarried with Mr. Ward, 
but he told them that he had scarce Hay and Grain 
enough in his Bam for the use of his own Cattel, and 
that they would do well to take their horses to the 
Ordinary, where they could be better cared for. But 
the Fellow not wishing to be soe put off, bade him 
consider what the Scripture said touching the keeping 
of strangers, as some had thereby entertained Angels 
unawares. " True, my friend," said Mr. Ward, " but 
we donH read that the Angels came a horseback ! " 

The evening passed away in a verie pleasant and 
agreeable manner. We had rare Nuts, and Apples, 



MABGABET SMITHES JOUBNAL. 1S5 

and Pears, of Mr. Saltonstairs raising, wonderfullie 
sweet and luscious. Our young gentlemen, moreover, 
seemed to think the Wine and Ale of good quality ; 
for, long after we had gone to our Bedds, we could 
hear them talking and laughing in the great Hall 
below, notwithstanding that Mr. Ward, when he took 
leave, b^de Doctor Thompson take heed to his own 
hint concerning the 

" Wines from France and Mascovadoe too ; " 

to which the young wit replied, that there was Scrip- 
ture warrant for his drinking, inasmuch as the com- 
mand was, to give Wine to those thai be of heavy 
heart Let him drink, and forget his Poverty^ and 
remember his Misery no more ; and, for his part, he 
had been little better than miserable ever since he 
heard of Rebecca^s betrothal. A light, careless man, 
but of good parts, and as brave a talker as I have 
heard since I have been in the Colonic. 

Nov'r ye 24. 
Mr. Ward's negro girl Dinah came for me yester- 
day, saying that her Master did desire to see me. 
Soe, marvelling greatlie what he wanted, I went with 
her, and was shown into the Study. Mr. Ward said 
he had sent for me to have some discourse in regard to 



126 



my brother Leooard, who he did greadie fear was 
likelie to make shipwreck of the Faith ; and that Mr. 
Richardson had written him concerning the young 
man, telling him that he did visit the Quakers when at 
Newbury, and even went over to Aeir Conventicle at 
Hampton, on the Lord's day, in the companie of the 
Brewster familie, noted Quakers and Rantprs. He 
had the last evening had some words with the lad, but 
with small satisfaction. Being sorelie troubled by this 
account, I begged him to send for Leonard, which he 
did, and, when he did come into the room, Mr. Ward 
told him that he might see by the plight of his Sister 
(for I was in tears) what a great grief he was like to 
bring upon his familie and friends, by running out into 
Heresies. Leonard said he was sorrie to give trouble 
to anie one, le€ist of all to his beloved Sister ; that he 
did indeed goe to the Quaker's meeting, on one occa- 
sion, to judge for himself concerning this People, who 
are every where spoken against ; and that he must say 
he did hear or see nothing in their worshipp contrary 
to the Gospel. There, was, indeed, but little said, but 
the words were savory and Scriptural. *'But they 
denie the Scriptures," cried Mr. Ward, " and set above 
them what they call the Light, which I take to be 
nothing better than their own Imaginations." " I doe 
not soe understand them," said Leonard ; ^^ I think 



JUBGABfiT smith's JOURNAL. 127 

they doe diligentlie study the Scripture, and seek to 
coafonn their lives to its teachings ; and for the Light 
of which they speak, it is borne witness to not only in 
the Bible, but by the earlie Fathers, and devout men 
of all ages. I doe not go to excuse the Quakers in 
all that they have done, nor to defend all their Doc- 
trines and Practices, manie of which I see no warrant 
in Scripture for, but believe to be pernicious and con- 
trary to good order ; yet I must need look upon them 
as a sober, earnest-seeking People, who doe verilie 
think themselves persecuted for righteousness' sake.'' 
Hereupon Mr. Ward struck his cane smartlie on the 
floor, and, looking severely at my Brother, bade him 
beware how he did justify these canting and false 
pretenders. " They are," he said, " either sad Knaves, 
or silly Enthusiasts — they pretend to Divine Bevela- 
tion, and set up as Prophets ; like the Eosycrucians 
and Gnosticks, they profess to a knowledge of things 
beyond what plain Scripture reveals. The best that 
can be said of them is, that they are befooled by their 
own Fancies, and the victims of distempered Brains, 
and ill habits of Bodie. Then their ranting against the 
Gospel order of the Church, and against the Ministers 
of Christ, calling us all manner of Hirelings, Wolves, 
and Hypocrites, belching out their blasphemies against 
the Ordinances and the wholesome Laws of the land 



J 28 MABGAKET SMITHES JOURNAL. 

for the support of a sound Ministry and Faith, doe, 
altogether, justify the sharp treatment they have met 
with ; soe that, if they have not all lost their £ais, 
they may thank our Clemency rather than their owd 
Worthiness to wear them. I doe not judge of them 
ignorantly, for I have dipped into their Books ; where, 
what is not downright Blasphemy and Heresie, is 
Mystical and Cabalistic. They affect a cloudy and 
canting style, as if to keep themselves from being 
confuted by keeping themselves from being understood. 
Their Divinity is a Riddle ; a piece of Black Art; the 
Scripture they turn into Allegory and parabolical 
Conceits, and thus obscure and debauch the Truth. 
Argue with them, and they fall to Divining ; reason 
with them, and they straightway Prophesie. Then 
their Silent Meetings, so called, in the which they doe 
pretend to justify themselves by quoting Eevelations, 
" There was Silence in Heaven ; " whereas they might 
find other authorities — as, for instance, in Psalm 1 15, 
where Hell is expressed by Silence, and in the Grospcl 
where we read of a Dumb Devil. As to persecuting 
these People, we have been quite too charitable to 
them, especiallie of late, and they are getting bolder 
in consequence ; as, for example, the behaviour of that 
shameless young Wench in Newbury, who disturbed 
brother Richardson's church with her Anticks not long 



MARGARET S31ITn's JOURNAL. 129 

ago. She should have been tied to the cart tail and 
whipped all the way to Ehode Island. 

** Do you speak of Margaret Brewster ? " asked 
Leonard, his Face all a crimson, and his Lip quivering. 
" Let me tell you, Mr. Ward, that you greatlie wrong 
one of Christ's little ones.'' And he called me to 
testify to her goodness and charity, and the blameless- 
ness of her life. 

^^ Don't talk to me of the blameless life of such an 
one," said Mr. Ward, in a loud, angrie tone ; " it is 
the Devil's varnish for heresie. The Manichees, and 
the Pelagians, and Socinians, all did profess great strict- 
ness and sanctity of life ; and there never was heretic 
yet, from they whom the Apostle makes mention of, 
who fasted from MeatSj giving heed to seducing 
Spirits and doctrines of Devils, down to the Quakers, 
J Dippers, and New Lights of this generation, who have 
I not, like their Fathers of old, put on the shape of 
|g Angels of Light, and lived severe and over-strict lives. 
^ I grant that the Quakers arc honest in their dealings, 
IB making great show of sobriety and self-denial, and 
^ ; abhor the practice of scandalous Vices, being tcmpe- 
^ rate, chaste, and grave in their behaviour, and thereby 
^ they win upon unstable Souls, and make plausible their 
^ damnable heresies. I warn you, young man, to take 
If heed of them, lest you be ensnared and drawn into 



130 MAB6ARET SMITHES JOURNAL. 

My Brother was about to reply, but, seeing Mr. 
Ward so moved and vexed, I begged of him to say no 
more, and, companie coming in, the matter was drop- 
ped, to my great joy. I went back much troubled and 
disquieted for my Brother^s sake. 

November ye 23th, 1678. 
Leonard hath left Mr. Ward, and given up the 
thought of fitting for the Ministry. This will be a 
heavie blow to his friends in England. He tells me 
that Mr. Ward spake angrilie to him after I left, but 
that, when he come to part with him, the old man 
wept over him, and prayed that the Lord would enable 
him to see his Error, and preserve him from the con- 
sequences thereof. I have discoursed with my Brother 
touching his future course of life, and he tells me he 
shall start in a day or two to visit the Rhode Island, 
where he hath an acquaintance, one Mr. Easton, for- 
merly of Newbury. His design is to purchase a small 
Plantation there, and betake himself to Farming, of the 
which he hath some little knowledge, believing that he 
can be as happy and doe as much good to his fellow- 
creatures in that Employment as in any other. 

Here Cousin Rebecca, who was by, looking up with 

that sweet archness which doth so well become her, 

queried with him whether he did think to live alone on 

his plantation like a HetmX, ot ^\«'^«t \» bad not hia 



MAH6AKET SMITHES JOURNAL. 131 

eye upon a certain fair-haired young Woman, as suit- 
able to keep him company. Whereat he seemed a 
little disturbed ; but she bade him not think her against 
his prospect, for she had known for some weeks that 
he did favor the young Brewster woman, who, setting 
aside her enthusiastick notions of religion, was worthy 
of any man^s love ; and turning to me, she begged of 
me to look at the Matter as she did, and not set myself 
against the choice of my Brother, which, in all respects 
save the one she had spoken of, she could approve with 
all her Heart. Leonard goes back with us to-morrow 
to Newbury, soe I shall have a chance of knowing how 
matters stand with him. The thought of his marrying 
a Quaker would have been exceedingly grievous to me 
a few months ago; but this Margaret Brewster hath 
greatlie won upon me by her beautie, gentleness, and 
her goodness of Heart ; and, besides, I know that she 
is much esteemed by the best sort of people in her 
Neighborhood. 

Doct Thompson left this morning, but his friend 
Doct Clark goes with us to Newbury. Rebecca^ouncf 
in her work-basket, after he had gone, some Verses, 
which amused us not a little, and which I here copie. 

** Gone bath the Spring, with all its flowers, 
And gone the Sommer's pomp and showe, 

And Amamn in his leafless bowers 
la waiting for the Winter's snon. 



132 MARGABET SMITHES JOURNAL. 

*' I said to ISartb, soe cold and grey, 

* An Emblem of myself thou art : ' 
* Not soe,' the Earth did seem to say, 

* For Spring shall warme my frozen heart.* 

" I soothe my wintry sleep with Dreams 

Of warmer San and softer Rain, 
And wait to hear the sound of Streams 

And songs of merrie Birds again. 

" But thou, from whom the Spring hath gone, 
For whom the Flowers no longer blow, 

Who standest, blighted and forlorn, 
Like Autumn waiting for the snow : 

" No hope is thine of sunnier hours. 

Thy Winter shall no more depart ; 
No Spring revive thy wasted flowers, 

Nor Summer warm thy frozen heart.** 

Dr. Clark, on hearing this read, told Rebecca she 
need not take its melancholie to Heart, for he could 
assure her that there was noe danger of his friend^s 
acting on her account the sad part of the Lover in the 
old Song of Barbara Allen. As a medical man, he 
could safelie warrant him to be Heart-whole ; and the 
companie 'could bear him witness, that the Poet himself 
seemed verie little like the despairing one depicted in 
his Verses. 

The Indian Simon calling this forenoon, Rebecca 
and I went into the Kitchen to see him. He looks 
£erce and cruel, but Vve thanked Madam Saltonstall for 



183 



her gifts of Food and Clothing, and, giving her in 
return a little Basket wrought of curiously stained 
stutiT, he told her that if there were more like her, his 
Heart would not be so bitter. 

I ventured to ask him why he felt thus, whereupon 
he drew himself up, and sweeping about him with his 
arms, said : " This all Indian land. The Great Spirit 
made it for Indians. He made the great River for 
them, and birch trees to make their Canoes of. All 
the Fish in the ponds and all the Pigeons and Deers 
and Squirrels he made for Indians. He made land for 
white men too ; but they left it, and took Indian's land, 
hecause it was better. My father was a Chief; he 
had plenty meat and com in his Wigwam. But Simon 
is a Dogg. When they fight Eastern Indians, I try to 
live in peace, but they say, Simon, you rogue, you no 
go into woods to hunt ; you keep at home. Soe when 
Squaw like to starve, I shoot one of their Hoggs, and 
then they whip me. Look ! " And he lifted the 
blanket off from his shoulder, and showed the marks 
of the Whip thereon. 

** Well, well, Simon,'' said Mr. Saltonstall, " you do 
know that our people then were much frightened by 
what the Indians had done in other places, and they 
feared you would join them. But it is all over now, 
and you have all the Woods to yourself to range m ; 



134 IKARGABET SMITHES JOUBNAIm 

and if you would let alone strong drink, you would 
doe well." 

"Who makes strong drink?" asked the Indian, 
with an ugly look. " Who takes the Indian^s Beaver- 
skins and Corn for it ? Tell me that, Captain.'' 

Soe saying, he put his Pack on his hack, and calling 
a poor, lean dogg, that was poking his hungrie nose 
into Madam's pots and kettles, he went off talking to 
himself. 



Newbury, Dec. ye 6th. 
We got back from Haverhill last night, Doctor Ckrk 
accompanying us, he having business in Newbury. 
When we came up to the door, Effie met us with a 
shy look, and told her Mistress that Mrs. Prudence 
(Uncle's spinster's Cousin,) had got a hraw add 
Wooer in the East room ; and surely enough we 
found our ancient kinswoman and Deacon Dole, a 
Widower of three years' standing, sitting at the supper 
table. We did take note that the Deacon had on a stiff 
new Coat ; and as for Aunt Prudence, (for soe she was 
called in the family,) she was clad in her bravest, with 
a fine cap on her head. They both did seem a litde 
disturbed by our coming, but plates being laid for us, 
we sat down with them. After supper Rebecca had a 



SCABOARBT SMITHES JOUBNAL* 13S 

fire kindled in Uncle's Room, whither we did betake 
ourselves, and being very merry at the thought of 
Deacon Dole's visit, it chanced to enter our silly Heads 
that it would doe noe harm to stop the Clock in the entry 
a- while, and let the two old folks make a long evening 
of it. After a time Rebe^Oiade an errand into the 
East Room, to see how matters went, and coming back 
said the twain were sitting on the same settle by the 
fire, smoking a pipe of Tobacco together. Moreover, 
our foolish trick did work well, for Aunt Prudence 
coming at last into the entry to look at the Clock, we 
heard her tell the Deacon that it was only a little past 
8, when in truth it was near 10. Not long after, there 
was a loud knocking at the door, and as EfRe had gone 
to bed, Rebecca did open it, when, whom did she see 
but the Widow Hepsy Bamet, Deacon Dole's house- 
keeper, and with her the Deacon's son, Moses, and the 
Minister, Mr. Richardson, with a lantern m his hand I 
'* Dear me," says the Woman, looking very dismal, 
** have you seen anything of the Deacon ? " By this 
time we were all at the door, the Deacon and Aunt 
Prudence among the rest, when Moses, like a great 
lout as he is, pulled off his woolen cap and tossed it up 
in the Aire, crying out, " There, Goody Bamet, did 'nt 
I tell ye so ! There's Father now ! " And the 
WidoWi holding up both her hands, said she never did 



136 MARGARET SMITIl's JOITRNAL. 

in all her bom days see the like of this, a Man of the 
Deacon's years and station stealmg away without letting 
folks know where to look for him ; and then turning 
upon poor Mrs. Prudence, she said she had long known 
that some folks were sly and artful, and she was glad 
Mr. Richardson was here to see for himself. Where- 
upon Aunt Prudence in much amazement said, it was 
scarce past 8, as they might see by the Clock ; but Mr. 
Richardson, who could scarce keep a grave face, pull- 
ing out his watch, said it was past 10, and bade her 
note that the Clock was stopped. He told Deacon 
Dole that seeing Goody Bamet soe troubled about him, 
he had offered to go along with her a little way, and 
that he was glad to find that the fault was in the Clock. 
The Deacon, who had stood like one in a maze, here 
clapped on his Hat, and snatched up his cane and went 
off, looking as guilty as if he had been caught a house- 
breaking, the Widow scolding him all the way. Now 
as we could scarce refrain from laughing, Mr. Richard- 
son, who tarried a moment, shook his head at Rebecca, 
telling her he feared by her looks she was a naughty 
Girl, taking pleasure in other folk's trouble. We did 
both feel ashamed and sorry enough for our mischief, 
after it was all over ; and poor Mistress Prudence is so 
sorely mortified, that she told Rebecca this morning 
not to mention Deacon Dole's name to her again, and 



MARGARET SMITH's JOURNAL. 187 

that Widow Hepsy is welcome to him, since he is so 
mean-spirited as to let her rule him as she doth. 

Dec. ye 8th. 
Yesterday I did, at my Brother's wish, goe with him 
to Goodman Brewster's house, where I was kindlie 
welcomed by the young Woman and her Parents. 
After some little tarry, I found means to speak privily 
with her touching my Brother's regard for her, and to 
assure her that I did truly and freely consent thereunto* 
while I did hope, for his sake as well as her own, 
that she would, as far as might be consistent with her 
notion of dutie, forbear to doe or say anything which 
might bring her into trouble with the Magistrates and 
those in authority. She said that she was very grate- 
ful for my kindness towards her, and that what I said 
was a great relief to her mind ; for when she first met 
my Brother, she did fear that his Kindness and Sym- 
pathy would prove a Snare to her ; ?ind that she had 
been sorely troubled moreover, lest by encouraging 
him she should not only doe violence to her own Con- 
science, but also bring trouble and disgrace upon one 
who was, she did confess, dear unto her, not only as 
respects outward things, but by reason of what she did 
discern of an innocent and pure inward life in his 
Conversation and Deportment. She had earnestly 
sought to conform her conduct, in this as in all things, 



188 MARGARET SMITHES JOXTRIXAIs. 

to the Mind of her Divine Master ; and as respected 
my caution touching those in authority, she knew not 
what the Lord might require of her, and she could only 
leave all in His hands, heing resigned even to deny 
herself of the sweet solace of human affection, and to 
take up the Cross daily, if he did so will. ** Thy visit 
and kind words," she continued, " have removed a 
great weight from me. The way seems more open 
before me. The Lord bless thee, for thy kindness.'' 

She said this with so much tenderness of spirit, and 
withal with such an engaging sweetness of look and 
voice, tliat I was greatly moved, and, pressing her in 
my Arms, I kissed her, and bade her look upon me as 
her dear Sister. 

The family pressing us, we staid to Supper, and 
sitting down in silence at the table, I was about to 
speak to my Brother, but he made a sign to check me, 
and I held my peace, although not then knowing 
wherefore. Soe we all sat still for a little space of 
time, which I afterwards found is the manner of these 
People at their Meat. The supper was plain, but of 
exceeding good relish ; warm Rye Loaves with Butter 
and Honey, and Bowls of sweet Milk, and roasted 
Apples. Goodwife Brewster, who appeared much 
above her husband, (who is a plain, unlearned man,) in 
her carriage and discourse, talked with us very pleas- 



MABGABET SMITHES JOURNAL. 139 

antly, and Margaret seemed to grow more at ease, the 
longer we staid. 

On our way back we met Robert Pike, who hath 
returned from the Eastward. He said Rebecca Raw- 
son had just told him how matters stood with Leonard, 
and that he was greatly rejoiced to hear of his pros- 
pect He had known Margaret Brewster from a Child, 
and there was scarce her equal in these parts for 
sweetness of Temper and loveliness of Person and 
mind ; and, were she ten times a Quaker, he was free 
to say this in her behalf. I am more and more 
confirmed in the belief that Leonard hath not done 
unwisely in this Matter, and doe cheerfully accept of 
his choice, believing it to be in the ordering of Him 
who doeth all things well. 



Boston, Dec. ye 31. 
It wanteth but two hours to the Midnight, and the 
End of the Year. The family are all abed, and I ccui 
hear nothing save the crackling of the Fire now burn- 
ing low on the hearth, and the ticking of the Clock in 
the comer. The weather being sharp with Frost, there 
is no one stirring in the Streets, and the trees and 
bushes in the yard being stripped of their leaves, look 
dismal enough above the white snow with which the 



140 KASGASET SMITHES JOITSKAL. 

ground is covered, soe diat one woold Aink that all 
things must needs die with the year. But, firom my 
window, I can see the Stars shining with marrelloas 
brightness in the clear sky, and the »gfat therec^ dodi 
assure me that God still watcheth orer the Work of 
His hands, and that in due season he will cause the 
jbieers to appear on the Earthy and the time of tinging 
Birds to come, and the voice of the Tmrde to he heard 
in the land. And I have been led while alcxie here to 
think of the many Mercies which hsve been Yooch- 
safed unto me in my travels and sojourn in a strange 
land, and a sense of the wonderful Groodness of God 
towards me, and they who are dear unto me, both here 
and elsewhere, hath filled mine Heart with thankful- 
ness ; and as of old time they did use to set up Stones 
of memorial on the Banks of deUverance, soe would 1 
at this season set up as it were in my poor Journal a 
like pillar of Thanksgiving to the praise and bcmor of 
Him who hath soe kindly cared for his unworthy 
Handmaid. 

Jannaij ye 1 6th, 1679. 
Have just got back from Reading, a small town ten 
or twelve miles out of Boston, whither I went along \ 
with mine of Uncle and Aunt Rawson, and manie 
others, to attend the Ordination of Mr. Brock, in the 



KABGABET SMITH* S JOURNAL. 141 

ace of the worthy Mr. Hough, latelie deceased. The 
gather heing clear, and the travelling good, a great 
ocourse of people got together. We stopped at the 
rdinary, which we found well nigh filled, but Uncle, 
T dint of scolding and coaxing, got a small room for 
ant and myself, with a clean Bedd, which was more 
an we had reason to hope for. The Ministers, of 
bom there were manie and of note (Mr. Mather and 
r. Wilson, of Boston, and Mr. Corbet of Ipswich, be- 
g among them), were alreadie together at the house 
' one of the Deacons. It was quite a Sight the next 
oming to see the people coming in from the neigh- 
nring Towns, and to note their odd Dresses, which 
ere indeed of all kinds, from silks and velvets to 
larsest homespun woollens, dyed with Hemlock, or 
ylnut bark, and fitting soe ill that, if they had all 
ist their Clothes into a heap, and then each snatched 
p whatsoever coat or gown came to hand, they could 
at have suited worse. Yet they were all clean and 
dy, and the young people especially did look exceed- 
ig happie, it being with them a famous Holiday. The 
oung men came with their sisters or their sweethearts 
iding behind them on pillions ; and the Ordinary and 
U the houses about were soon noisie enough, with 
lerrie talking and laughter. The Meeting-house was 
lied long before the services did begin. There was 



142 MARGARET SMITHES JOITBlfAL. 

a goodlie show of honorable People in the forward 
seats, and among them that venerable magistrate, Si- 
mon Broadstreet, who acteth as deputy Grovemor since 
the death of Mr. Leverett ; the Honorable Thomas 
Danforth, Mr. William Brown of Salem, and o&ers at 
note, whose names I do not remember, all with their 
Wives and Families, bravely apparelled. Tlie Sermon 
was preached by Mr. Higginson, of Salem, the Charge 
was given by Mr. Phillips, of Rowley, and the Right 
Hand of Fellowship by Mr. Corbet, of Ipswich. When 
we got back to our Inn, we found a great crowd of 
young roysterers in the Yard, who had got Mr. Cor- 
bet's negro man Sam on the top of a barrel, with a bit 
of leather cut in the shape of Spectacles astride of his 
nose, where he stood swinging his arms, and preach- 
ing, after the manner of his Master, mimicking his 
tone and manner very shrewdlie, to the great delight 
and merriment of the young Rogues who did set him 
on. We stood in the door awhile to hear him, and, to 
say truth, he did wonderfully well, being a Fellow of 
good parts and much humor. But, just as he was de- 
scribing the Devil, and telling his grinning hearers that 
he was not like a black but a white man, old Mr. Co^ 
bet, who had come up behind him, gave him a smart 
Blow with his Cane, whereupon Sam cried, 
" Dare he be now ; " at which all fell to laughing. 



MARGARET SMITHES JOUBMAL. 143 

** You raacal," said Mr. Corbet, " get down with you ; 
PU teach you to compare me to the Devil." 

'* Beg pardon, Massa ! " said Sam, getting down 
fifom his pulpit, and rubbing his shoulder ; " How you 
Sunk Sam know you ? He see nothing ; he only feel 
ie Uck." 

^ You shall feel it again," said his Master, striking 
It him a great blow, which Sam dodged. 

**Nay, brother Corbet," said Mr. Phillips, who was 
irith him, ^' Sam^s mistake was not so strange, af\er 
lU ; for if Satan can transform himself into an Angel 
of Light, why not into the likeness of such unworthy 
Ifinisters as you and I ? " 

This put the old Minister in a good humor, and Sam 
escaped without farther punishment than a grave ad- 
monition to behave more reverently for the future. Mr. 
Phillips, seeing some of his young people in the Crowd, 
did sharply rebuke them for their foUie, at which they 
were not a little abashed. 

The Inn being greatlie crowded, and not a litde 
noisy, we were not unwilling to accept the invitation 
o£ the provider of the Ordination dmner, to sit down 
with the honored guests thereat. I waited, with others 
of the younger Class, until the Ministers and elderly 
People had made an end of their Meal. Among those 
who sat at the second Table, was a pert, talkative lad, 



144 MARGARET SMITHES JOUBNAI.. 

a son of Mr. Increase Mather, who, although but six- 
teen years of age, graduated at the Harvard College 
last year, and hath the reputation of good scholarship 
and livelic wit. He told some rare stories concerning 
Mr. Brock, the Minister ordained, and of the marvel- 
lous efficacy of his Prayers. He mentioned, among 
other things, that, when Mr. Brock lived on the Isles of 
Shoals, he persuaded the People there to agree to 
spend one day in a Month, beside the Sabbath, in reli- 
gious worship. Now, it soe chanced that there was on 
one occasion a long season of stormie, rough Weather, 
unsuitable for fishing ; and when the day came which 
had been set apart, it proved soe exceeding fair, that 
his Congregation did desire him to put off the Meeting, 
that they might fish. Mr. Brock tried in vaine to 
reason with them, and showe the dutie of seeking first 
the Kingdom of God, when all other things should be 
added thereto, but the major part determined to leave 
the Meeting. Thereupon he cried out after them; 
" As for you who will neglect God's worship, go, and 
catch Fish if you can.'''' There were thirty men who 
thus left, and only five remained behind, and to these 
he said : " I will pray the Lord for you, that you may 
catch Fish till you are weary,'''' And it soe fell out, 
that the thirty toiled all day and caught only four 
Fishes, while the five who staid at Meeting went out 



JCAB6A&ET SUITERS JOUBNAL. 145 

ier the worship was over, and caught five hundred ; 
id ever afterwards the Fishermen attended all the 
eetings of the Minister's appointing. At another time, 
poor man, who had made himself useful in carrying 
jople to Meeting in his Boat, lost the same in a storm, 
id came lamenting his loss to Mr. Brock. "Go 
Mme, honest man," said the Minister ; " I will mention 
)ur case to the Lord ; you will have your Boat again 
-morrow." And surelie enough, the very next day 
vessel pulling up its anchor near where the Boat 
nk, drew up the poor man's Boat, safe and whole, 
lor it 

We went back to Boston after dinner, but it was 
onewhat of a cold ride, especiallie after the night set 
, a keen northerly Wind blowing in great gusts, 
hich did well nigh benumb us. A little way from 
eading, we overtook an old couple in the road ; the 
An had fallen off his Horse, and his Wife was trying 
» get him up again to no purpose, so young Mr. 
jchards, who was with us, helped him up to the 
Buldle again, telling his wife to hold him carefuUie, as 
9T old man had drank too much flip. Thereupon the 
5od wife set upon him with a vile tongue, telling him 
lat her old man was none other than Deacon Rogers, 
r Wenham, and as good and as pious a samt as there 
as out of Heaven ; and it did ill become a young, 
10 



146 MASGABBT SMITHES JOUSXAL. 

saucie rake and knave, to accuse him of DrunkennesBi 
and it would be no more than his deserts if the Bean 
did eat him before he got to Boston. As it was quite 
clear that the Woman herself had had a taste of tin 
mug, we left them and rode on, she fairly scolding m 
out of hearipg. When we got home, we found Cou»d 
Rebecca, whom we did leave ill with a cc^d, much 
better in health, sitting up and awaiting us. 

Jan. ye 2l8t, W9, 
Uncle Rawson came home to-day, in a great passioii, 
and, calling me to him, he asked me if I, too, wai 
going to turn Quaker, and fall to prophesying ? Where- 
at I was not a little amazed ; and when I asked him 
what he did mean, he said — ^^ Your brother Leonaid 
hath gone off to them, and I dare say you will foUoWt 
if one of the Banters should take it into his head that 
you would make him a proper Wife, or company* 
keeper, for there's never an honest marriage among 
them.'' Then looking sternly at me, he asked me why 
I did keep this matter from him, and thus allow the 
foolish young man to get entangled in the snares of 
Satan. Whereat I was so greatlie grieved, that I could 
answer never a word. 

" You may well weep," said my Uncle, " for you 
have done wickedly. As to your Brother, he will dot 



MAIOASET smith's JOURNAL. 147 

wM to keep where he is in the Plantations ; for if he 
tXMnes hither a iheeing and thauing of me, I will spare 
Um never a whit ; and if I doe not chastise him my- 
irif, it will be because the Constable can do it better at 
lie cart-tail. As the Lord lives, I had rather he had 
wnedTuiiL!'' 

I tried to say a word for my Brother, but he cut me 
itraightway short, bidding me not to mention his name 
igain in his presence. Poor me ! I have none here 
mow to whom I can speak freely, Rebecca !;aving gone 
fe» her sister^s at Weymouth. My young Cousin Grin- 
Wl is below, with his college friend. Cotton Mather ; 
but I care not to listen to their Discourse, and Aunt is 
busied with her servants in the Kitchen, soe that I must 
•Ten sit alone with my thoughts, which be indeed but 
lad companie. 

. The little Book which I brought with me from the 
liaiae, it being the gift of young Mr. Jordan, and which 
t have kept close hidden in my trunk, hath been no 
imall consolation to me this day, for it aboundeth in 
nreet and goodly thoughts, although he who did write 
it was a Monk. Especially in my low state, have 
(beae words been a comfort to me : 

** What thou canst not amend in thyself or others, 
bear thou with Patience until God ordaineth otherwise. 
When comfort is taken away, do not presently despair. 



148 HARGA&ET SMITHES JOUSHAL. 

Stand with an even Mind resigned to the Will of God, 
whatever shall hefal, because after Winter cometh the 
Summer ; after the dark night the day shineth, and 
after the storm foUoweth a great calm. Seek not for 
Consolation which shall rob thee of the grace of Peni- 
tence ; for all that is high is not holy, nor all that k 
pleasant good ; nor every desire pure, nor is what ia 
pleasing to us always pleasant in the sight of God.'' 

Jn. ye 23. 

The Weather is bitter cold, and a great snow on the 
Ground. By a letter from Newbury, brought me hy 
Mr. Sewall, who hath just returned from that place, I 
heare that Goodwife Morse hath been bound for tryal 
as a Witch. Mr. Sewall tells me the Woman is now in 
the Boston Jail. As to Caleb Powell, he hath been set 
at Libertie, there being no proof of his evil Practice. 
Yet, inasmuch as he did give grounds of Suspicion by 
boasting of his skill in astrology and astronomy, the 
Court declared that he justlie deserves to bear his own 
shame and the costs of his prosecution and lodging in 
Jail. 

Mr. Sewall tells me that Dea. Dole has just married 
his housekeeper, Widow Barnet, and that Moses says 
he never knew before his Father to get the worst in a 
bargain. 



BfAEGABET SMITHES JOURNAL. 149 

Jan. ye 30th. 
- Hobert Pike called this morning, bringing me a letter 
from my Brother, and one from Margaret Brewster. 
He hath been to the Providence Plantations and Rhode 
iBland, and reporteth well of the prospects of my 
Brother, who hath a goodly Farm, and a house nigh 
upon finished, the neighbors, being mostlie Quakers, 
assisting him much therein. My Brother's letter doth 
confirm this account of his temporal condition, although 
a great part of it is taken up with a defence of his 
newe Doctrines, for the which he doth ingeniously 
bring to Mind manie passages of Scripture. Margaret's 
letter being short, I here copy it : 

" Ye Plantations, 20th of ye 1st mo., 1679. 
** Dear Friend : I salute thee with much love from 
this new Countrie, where the Lord hath spread a table 
for us in the Wilderness. Here is a goodlie companie 
of Friends, who doe seek to know the mind of Truth, 
and to live thereby, being held in favor and esteem by 
the Rulers of the Land, and soe left in Peace to wor* 
ship God accordmg to their consciences. The whole 
Ck)untrie being covered with Snow, and the Weather 
being extreme cold, we can scarce say much of the 
natural gifts and advantages of our new Home ; but it 
lyeth on a small River, and there be fertile Meadowes 
and old Cornfields of the Indians, and good Springs of 
Water, soe that I am told it is a desirable and pleasing 



150 MABGAREr SMITHES JOURNAL* 

place in the warm season. My soul is full of Thank- 
fulness ; and a sweet inward Peace is my portioiL 
Hard things are made easie to me ; this desert place, 
with its lonelie Woods and wintry Snows, is beautiful 
in mine eyes. For here we be no longer gazing-stocb 
of the rude Multitude, we are no longer haled frcmi our 
Meetings, and rayled upon as Witches and possessed 
People. Oh 1 how oflen have we been called up<»i 
heretofore to repeat the prayer of one formerlie — 
* Let me not fail into the hands of manJ* Sweet, 
beyond the power of words to express, hath been the 
change in this respect ; and in view of the Mercies 
vouchsafed unto us, what can we do but repeat the 
language of David ? — ' Praise is comelie ; yea^ ajoyfid 
and pleasant thing it is to he thankful. It is a good 
thing to give thanks unto the Lord^ to sing praises unto 
thy Name^ O Most High ! to show forth thy loving 
kindness in the morning, and thy faithfulness every 
night,"* 

" Thou hast doubtless heard that thy dear Brother 
hath been favored to see the way of Truth, according 
to our persuasion thereof, and hath been received into 
Fellowship with us. I fear this hath been a tryal to 
thee, but, dear heart, leave it in the hands of the Lord, 
whose work I doe indeed count it. Nor needest thou 
to fear that thy brother^s regard for thee will be lessen- 
ed thereby, for the rather shall it be increased by a 
measure of that Divine love which, soe far from de- 
stroying, doth but purify and strengthen the natural 
affections. Think, then, kindly of thy Brother, for his 



liilBGASET smith's JOURNAL. 151 

love towards thee is very great ; and of me. also, 
jinworthie as I am, for his sake. And soe, with salu- 
tations of love and peace, in which my dear Mother 
joins, I remain thy Wing friend, 

Margaret Brewster." 

*♦ The Morse Woman, I heare, is in your Jail, to be 
tried for a Witch. She is a poor, weak creature, but 
I know no harm of her, and doe believe her to be more 
silly than wicked in the matter of the troubles in her 
House. I fear she will sufier much at this cold season 
in the Jail, she being old and weaklie, and must needs 
•ntreat thee to inquire into her condition. 

M. B." 

Feby. ye 10th. 
Speaking of Goody Morse to-day, Uncle Rawson 
says she will, he thinks, be adjudged a Witch, as there 
be manie witnesses from Newbury to testify against 
ber. Aunt sent the old creature some warm Blankets 
and other necessaries, which she stood much in need 
of, and Eebecca and I altered one of Aunt^s old 
gowns for her to wear, as she hath nothing seemly 
of her own. Mr. Richardson, her Minister, hath visited 
ber twice since she hath been in Jail, but he saith 
she is hardened in her sin, and will confess nothing 
thereof. 



Fcby. ye I4lk - , 
Jir. Jota Efiol, l»kig bariiieH wilb ft 
■nr ruck* s^eot liie lua u^ widi is, a tmlie wortliie / £ 
■ttn. viMx bj ratsQB of bis great Umms among & in 
IwiHfn iDdiaas^ maT be caBed die Cbiefest of our Li 
Aywc>i^ He biwagki viib bua a yoang Indian lad, to 
ibe son of a Alaa of mip mant aHung bis People, veiie b:: 
bngba and comeiie. and bindawrlip appazvelled aAer ai 
ibe Fas^uon of bis Txibe. Tbis lad batb a readie wit, t^ 
feadesb and wriieab. and baub aone nndrrntanding of B 
Sdijiniiv : indeed be did repeal die LonTs Pnyer ia a « 
■HBBcr e«difring 10 bear. ^ 

Hie m-ondxijKf al Maior GookinB ooaaing in to sup c 
vidi 12s. ^>ej« was in:3cb d k o uui ae eoaoeniing d» t 
afioRof ibe Pnc^iincie: bodice Major and Uafiiend 
EBdi being S3«ai sdc^L^eis fcr &e lUgbCi and Libeftiei 
of die people, and exoecding jealoaB <if die nde of 
ibe Home Gkyr^mment. and in dna maim mr Undo 
did qnhe agreie whb tbem. In a special manner, 
l§Mj(x Gooldns did ccwnpibTw of Ae Acta rf Tmde, ai 
ia j iuic iias xo die Intn^ests of ibe Goknie, and wludi he 
mid oosbi not id be sabmhted «s as de Lavs <if £ag> 
land wei« bcnmded br ibe foiir Seas, and did Mit joBlb 
rendi Ameiiea. He read a kitm vbidi ke bad fivn 
Mr. StDogbim. one of die Agents of de Goloaie ia 
Ei^land, sbowmg boiribeT bad been pot off fivn 



KARGARET SMITHES JOURNAL. 158 

time to time, upon one excuse ,or another, without 
being able to get a hearing ; and now the Popish Plott 
did see occupie all minds there, that Plantation matters 
were sadlie neglected : but this much was certain, the 
Laws for the regulating of Trade must be consented 
to by the Massachusetts, if we would escape a toUd 
breach. My Uncle struck his hand hard on the Table 
at thb, and said if all were of his mind, they would 
never heed the breach ; adding, that he knew his 
Rights as a free-born Englishman, under Magna Charta, 
which did declare it the privilege of such to have a 
voice in the making of Laws; whereas the Massa* 
chusetts had no voice in Parliament, and Laws were 
thrust upon them by strangers. 

** For mine own part," said Major Gookins, " I doe 
hold our brother Eliot's Book on the Christian Com- 
monwealth, which the General Court did make haste 
to condemn on the coming in of the King, to be a 
sound and seasonable Treatise, notwithstanding the 
Author himself hath in some sort disowned it." 

'* I did truly condemn and deny the false and sedi- 
tiOus doctrines charged upon it," said Mr. Eliot, " but 
for the Book itself, rightly taken, and making allowance 
for some little heat of Discourse and certain hasty 
and ill-considered Words therein, I have never seen 
cause to repent I quite agree with what my lamented 



154 



Friend and Fellow-laborer, Mr. Danforth, said, when 
he was told that the King was to be proclaimed at 
Boston : ' Whatever form of Government may be 
deduced from Scripture, that let us yield to for con- 
science sake, not forgetting at the same time that the 
Apostle hath said, if thou tnayest he free use it 
rather: " 

My Uncle said this was well spoken of Mr. Danforth, 
who was a worthie gentleman and a true friend to the 
liberties of the Colonic ; and he asked Rebecca to read 
some ingenious Verses writ by him in one of his Al- 
manacs, which she had copied not long ago, wherein 
he compareth New England to a goodly Tree or Plant. 
Whereupon, Rebecca read them as followeth : — 

" A skillful husbandman he was, who brought 
This matchless Plant from far, and here hath sought 
A place to set it in ; and for its sake 
The Wilderness a pleasant land doth make. 
With pleasant aspect, Phoebus smiles upon 
The tender buds and blooms that hang thereon ; 
At this Tree's root Astrea sits and sings, 
And waters it, whence upright Justice springs, 
Which yearlie shoots forth laws and liberties * 

That no man's will or wit may tyrannize. 
Those birds of prey that sometime have oppressed 
And stained the Country with their filthy nest, 
Justice abhors, and one day hopes to find 
A way to make all promise-breakers grind. 



HABGASET smith's jottbhal. 1S6 

On this Tree's top hangs pleasant lAberty, 

Not seen in Austria, France, Spain, Italy. 

True Liberty's there ripe, where all confess 

They may doe what they will, save wickedness. 

Peace is another fruit which this Tree bears. 

The ehiefest garland that the country wears, 

Which o'er all house-tops, townes, and fields, doth spread. 

And stuffs the pillow for each weary head. 

It bloomed in Europe once, but now 'tis gone, 

And glad to find a desert mansion. 

Forsaken 7Vu/^, Time's daughter, groweth here — 

More precious fruit what Tree did ever bear — 

Whose pleasant sight aloft hath manie fed. 

And what falls down knocks Error on the head." 

After a little time, Rebecca found means to draw 
B good Mr. Eliot into some account of his labors and 
amies among the Indians, and of their manner of 
e, ceremonies, and traditions, telling him that I was 
Stranger in these parts, and curious concerning such 
atters. So he did address himself to me verie kind- 
, answering such questions as I ventured to put to 
m. And first, touching the Powahs, of whom I had 
)ard much, he said they were manifestlie Witches, 
id such as had familiar Spirits ; but that, since the 
ospel has been preached here, their power had in a 
■eat measure gone from them. "My old friend, 
issaconaway, the Chief of the Merrimack River 
dians,^' said he, " was, before his happy and mar- 



156 KARGABET SMITHES JOURNAL. 

yellous conversion, a noted Powah and Wizard. I once 
queried with him touching his sorceries, when he said 
he had done wickedlie, and it was a marvel that the 
Lord spared his life, and did not strike him dead with his 
Lightnings. And when I did press him to tell me how 
he did hecome a Powah, he said he liked not to speak 
of it, hut would nevertheless tell me. His grand- 
mother used to tell him manie things concerning the 
good and had Spirits, and in a special manner of the 
Abomako, or Chepian, who had the form of a Serpent, 
and who was the cause of sickness and pain, and of all 
manner of evils. And it soe chanced that on one 
occasion, when hunting in the Wilderness, three days' 
journey from home, he did lose his way, and wandered 
for a long time without food, and Night coming on, he 
thought he did hear voices of men talking, but, on 
drawing near to the place whence the Noise came, he 
could see nothing but the Trees and Rocks ; and then 
he did see a Light, as from a Wigwam a little way off, 
but, going towards it, it moved away, and, following it, 
he was led into a dismal Swamp, full of water, and 
snakes, and briers ; and being in soe sad a plight, he 
bethought him of all he had heard of evil Demons and 
of Chepian, who he doubted not was the cause of his 
trouble. At last, coming to a little knoll in the Swamp, 
he lay down under a hemlock Tree, and being sorelie 



MARGARET SMITHES JOURNAL. 157 

tired, fell asleep. And he dreamed a Dream, which 
was in this wise : — 

. " He thought he hehelda great Snake crawl up out of 
the Marsh, and stand upon his Tayle under a tall maple 
Tree ; and he thought the Snake spake to him, and 
bode him be of good cheer, for he would guide him 
lafe out of the Swamp, and make of him a great Chief 
and Powah, if he would pray to him and own him as 
bis god. All which he did promise to do ; and when 
be awoke in the morning, he beheld before him the 
maple Tree under which he had seen the Snake in his 
Dream, and, climbing to the top of it, he saw a great 
distance off the smoke of a Wigwam, towards which 
he went, and found some of his own people cooking a 
plentiful meal of Venison. When he got back to 
Patucket, he told his Dream to his grandmother, who 
was greatlie rejoiced, and went about from Wigwam to 
Wigwam, telling the tribe that Chepian had appeared 
to her grandson. Soe they had a great feast and 
dance, and he was thenceforth looked upon as a Powah. 
Shortly after, a woman of the tribe falling sick, he 
was sent for to heal her, which he did by praying to 
Chepian and laying his hands upon her ; and at divers 
other times, the Devil helped him in his enchantments 
and witcheries." 

I asked Mr. Eliot whether he did know of any 



158 KABGASET SMITHES JOU&NAI- 

women who were Powahs. He coafesBed he knew 
none ; which was the more strange, as in Christiaa 
countries the Old Serpent did commonly find instni- 
ments of his craft among the women. 

To my query, as to what notion the Heathen had of 
God and a future state, he said that, when he did dis- 
course them concerning the great and tnie Giod, who 
made all things, and of Heaven and Hell, tiiey would 
readilie consent thereto, saying that soe their fit^ni 
had taught them ; but when he spake to Ihem <^ the 
destruction of the World by fire, and the resoirectioa 
of the Body, they would not hear to it, for they pretend 
to hold that the Spirit of the dead man goes ibrdiwith, 
after death, to the happy Hunting Grounds made for 
good Indians, or to the cold and dreary Swamps and 
Mountains, where the bad Indians doe staire and 
freeze, and sufier all manner of hardships. 

There was, Mr. Eliot UAd us, a famous Powah, 
who, coming to Punkapc^ while he was at that Indian 
town, gaye out among the people there that a little 
Humming Bird did come to him and peck at him when 
he did aught that was wrong, and sing sweetly to him 
when he did a good thing or spake the right wocds ; 
which coming to Mr. Eliot^s ear, he made lum ooii- 
fess, in the presence of the congregaticm, that he did 
only mean, by the figure of the ^rd, the s^ise lie had 



MABGABET SMITH's JOUSNAIm^ 159 

of right and wrong in his own Mind. This Fellow 
was moreover exceeding cunning, and did oflen ask 
questions hard to be answered touching the creation of 
the Devil, and the fall of Man. 

I said to him, that I thought it must be a great satis- 
faction to him to be permitted to witness the Fruit of 
his long labors and sufferings in behalf of these People, 
in the hopeful conversion of soe many of them to the 
light and knowledge of the Gospel ; to which he re* 
plied, that his poor Labors had been indeed greatly 
blest, but it was all of the Lord's doing, and he could 
truly say he felt, in view of the great wants of these 
wild People, and their darkness and misery, that he 
had by no means done all his Duty towards them. He 
said, also, that whenever he was in danger of being 
puffed up with the praise of Men, or the vanity of his 
own Heart, the Lord had seen meet to abase and hum- 
ble him, by^ the falling back of some of his people to 
their old heathenish practices. The Warre, moreover, 
was a sore evil to the Indian Churches, as some few of 
their number were enticed by Philip to join him in his 
burnings and slaughterings, and this did cause even the 
peaceful and innocent to be vehementlie suspected and 
cried out against as deceivers and murderers. Poor 
unoffending old men, and pious women, had been shot 
at and killed by our Soldiers, their Wigwams burned, 



160 MARGARET SMITHES JOURNAL. 

their Fataiilies scattered, and driven to seek shelter with 
the enemy ; yea, many Christian Indians, he did be- 
lieve, had been sold as slaves to the Barbadoes, which 
he did account a great sin, and a reproach to our 
people. Major Gookins said that a better feeling 
towards the Indians did now prevail among the people ; 
the time having been when, because of his friendliness 
to them, and his condemnation of their oppressors, he 
was cried out against and stoned in the Streets, to the 
great hazard of his life. 

Soe, af\er some further discourse, our guests left 
us, Mr. Eliot kindlie inviting me to visit his Indian con- 
gregation near Boston, whereby I could judge for 
myself of their condition. 

Febj. ye 29, 1679. 
The weather suddenly changing from a warm Rain 
and Mist to sharp, clear cold, the Trees a little way 
finom the house did last evening soe shine with a w(hi- 
dcrful brightness in the light of the Moon, now nigh 
unto its full, that I was fain to go out upon the hill-top 
to admire them. And truly it was no mean Si^t to 
behold every small twig becnisted with Ice, and glit- 
tering famouslie like silver work or chrystal, as the 
rayes of the Moon did strike upon them. Moreover, 
die Earth was covered with firazen snow, smooth and 



MAB6ABET SMITHES JOURNAL. 161 

hard like to Marble, through which the long rushes, the 
hazles, and muUiens, and the dry blades of the grasses, 
did stand up bravely bedight with Frost. And, look- 
ing upward, there were the dark tops of the evergreen 
Trees, such as hemlocks, pines, and spruces, starred 
and bespangled, as if wetted with a great Rain of 
molten chrystal. After admiring and marvelling at 
this rare entertainment and show of Nature, I said it 
did mind me of what the Spaniards and Portugals re* 
late of the great Incas of Guiana, who had a Garden 
of Pleasure in the Isle of Puna, whither they were 
wont to betake themselves when they would enjoy the 
Air of the Sea, in which they had all manner of Herbs 
and Flowers, and Trees curiously fashioned of gold 
and silver, and so burnished that their exceeding 
brightness did dazzle the eyes of the beholders. 

"Nay," said the worthy Mr. Mather, who did go 
with us, " it should rather, methinks, call to mind what 
the Revelator hath said of the Holy City. I never 
look upon such a wonderful display of the natural 
World without remembering the description of the 
glory of that City which descended out of Heaven from 
God, Tuxoing the glory of God and her light like unto 
a Stone most precious, even like unto a jasper stone, 
clear as chrystal. And the building of the Wall of it 
loas of jasper, and the City was pure gold like unto 
11 



162 



clear glass. And the twelve Gates were twelve pearls, 
every several gate was of one pearl, and the street of 
the City was pure goldy as it were transparent glass, 

" There never was a King's palace lighted up and 
adorned like this," continued Mr. Mather, as we went 
homewards. " It seemeth to be God's design to show 
how that He can glorify himself in the work of His 
hands, even at this Season of darkness and death, when 
all things are sealed up, and there be no flowers, noi 
leaves, nor running brooks, to speak of His goodness 
and sing forth His praises. Truly hath it been aaid^ 
Great things doeth iZe, which we cannot comprehend. 
For He saith to the Snow, Be thou on the earth ; like^ 
wise to the small rain and the great rain of his 
strength. He sealeth up the hand of every man, thai 
all Men may know his work. Then the Beasts goe into 
their densy and they remain in their places. Out of 
the South Cometh the whirlwind, and cold out of the 
North. By the breath of God is the Frost given, and 
the breadth of the waters straitened" 

March ye 10th. 

I have been now for manie days afflicted with a 

great cold and pleurisie, although, by God's blessing 

on the means used, I am well nigh free from pain, and 

much relieved, also, from a tedious cough. In this 



KAB6ABET SMITHES JOUBNAL. 163 

Siekness I have not missed the company and kind 
nunistering of my dear Cousin Eeb€lcca^^;v^ich was 
indeed a great comfort. She tells me to-day that the 
iuBoe hath heen fixed upon for her Marriage with Sir 
Thomas, which did not a little rejoice me, as I am to 
goe back to mine own Gountrie in their companie. I 
long exceedingly to see once again the dear Friends 
firom whom I have been separated by manie Months of 
time and a great Ocean. 

Cousin Torrey, of Weymouth, coming in yesterday, 
brought with her a very bright and pretty Indian girl, 
one of Mr. Eliot's flock, of the Natick people. She 
was apparelled afler the English manner, s^ve that she 
wore leggings, called Moccasins, in the stead of Shoes, 
wrought over daintilie with the quills of an animal 
called a Porcupine, and hung about with small black 
and white Shells. Her Haire, which was exceeding 
long and black, hung straight down her Back, and was 
parted from her Forehead, and held fast by means of 
a strip of Birch bark, wrought with quills and feathers, 
which did encircle her Head. She speaks the English 
well, and can write somewhat, as well as read. 
Rebecca, for my amusement, did query much with her 
regarding the Praying Indians ; and on her desiring to 
know whether they did in no wise return to their old 
practices and worships, Wauwoonemeen (for soe she 



164 MABGARET SMITHES JOUBNAL. 

was called by her people) told us that they did still 
hold their Keutikaw, or Dance for the Dead ; and that 
the Ministers, although they did not fail to discourage 
it, had not forbidden it altogether, inasmuch as it was 
but a Civil Custom of the people, and not a Religious 
Eite. This Dance did usually take place at the end 
of twelve Moons after the death of one of their 
number, and finished the mourning. The Guests invited 
bring presents to the bereaved Family, of wampum, 
beaver skins, com, and groundnuts, and venison. 
These presents are delivered to a Speaker, appointed 
for the purpose, who takes them, one by one, and 
hands them over to the mourners, with a Speech 
entreating them to be consoled by these tokens of the 
Love of their neighbors, and to forget their Sorrows. 
After which, they sit down to eat, and are merry 
together. 

Now it had so chanced that at a Keutikaw held the 
present Winter, two men had been taken ill, and had 
died the next day; and although Mr. Eliot, when he 
was told of it, laid the blame thereof upon their hard 
dancing until they were in a great Heat, and then 
running out into the Snow and sharp Aire to cool 
themselves, it was thought by manie that they were 
foully dealt with and poysoned. Soe two noted old 
Powahs from Wauhktukook, on the great river Con- 



MARGARET SMITH'S JOURNAL. 166 

nechticut, were sent for to discover the murderers. 
Then these poor Heathen got together in a great Wig- 
warn, where the old Wizards undertook, hy their 
Spells and Incantations, to consult the Invisible Powers 
in the matter. I asked Wauwoonemeen if she knew 
how they did practice on the occasion ; whereupon she 
said that none but men were allowed to be in the Wig- 
wam, but that she could hear the beating of Sticks on 
the ground, and the groans and bowlings and dismal 
mutterings of the Powahs, and that she, with another 
young Woman, venturing to peep through a hole in 
the back of the Wigwam, saw a great manie people 
sitting on the ground, and the two Powahs before the 
Fire, jumping and smiting their Breasts, and rolling 
their eyes verie frightfuUie. 

" But what came of it ? " asked Rebecca. " Did the 
Evil Spirit whom they thus called upon testify against 
himself, by telling who were his instruments in mis- 
chief?" 

The Girl said she had never heard of any discoverie 
of the poisoners, if indeed there were such. She told 
us, moreover, that manie of the best people in the 
Tribe would have no part in the business, counting it 
sinful ; and that the chief actors were much censured 
by the Ministers, and soe ashamed of it that they drove 
the Powahs out of the village, the Women and Boys 



166 MAEGARET SMITH'S JOTTBNAI., 

chasing them and heatmg them with sticks and frozen 
snow, soe that they had to take to the Woods in a sorry 
plight. 

We gave the Girl some small trinkets and a fair 
piece of Cloth for an Apron, whereat she was greatlie 
pleased. We were all chartned with her good parts, 
sweetness of countenance and discourse, and readie 
wit, being satisfied thereby that Nature knoweth no 
difference between Europe and America in blood, 
birth, and bodies, as we read in Acts 17 that God hath 
made of one blood all Mankind. I was specially 
minded of a saying of that ingenious but schismatic 
man, Mr. Roger Williams, in the little book which he 
put forth in England on the Indian tongue : 

" Boast not, proud English, of thy birth and blood, 
Thy Brother Indian is by birth as good ; 
Of one Blood Grod made Him and Thee and All, 
As wise, as fair, as strong, as personall. 
By Nature wrath 's his portion, thine, no more. 
Till Grace his Soule and thine in Christ restore. 
Make sure thy second birth, else thou shall see 
Hearen ope to Indians wild, but shut to thee ! " 

March ye 15. 
One Master O'Shane, an Irish scholar, of whom my 
Cousins here did learn the Latin tongue, coming in 
last evening, and finding Rebecca and I alone, (Uncle 



MARGARET SMITHES JOURNAL. 167 

and Aunt being on a visit to Mr. Atkmson's,) was ex- 
ceeding merry, entertaining us rarely with his stories 
and songs. Rebecca^JeTE^me he is a learned Man, as 
I can well believe, but that he is too fond of strong 
drink for his good, having thereby lost the favor of 
many of the first Families here, who did formerly em- 
ploy him. There was one Ballad which he saith is of 
his own making, concerning the selling of the daughter 
of a great Irish lord, as a Slave in this land, which 
greatly pleased me, and on my asking for a copy of it, 
he brought it to me this morning in a faire hand. I copy 
it in my Journal, as I know that Oliver, who is curious 
in such things, will like it 

KATHLEEN. 

Oh Norab ! lay your Basket dowii| 

And rest your weary hand, 
And come and hear me sing a Song 

Of our Old Ireland. 

There was a Lord of Galaway, 

A mighty Lord was he ; 
And he did wed a second Wife, 

A maid of low degree. 

But he was old, aiid she was young. 

And toe in evil 8|>ite, 
She baked the black Bread for his kin, 

And fed her own with white. 



168 



She whipped the Maids, and starved the kern, 

And drove away the poor ; 
" Ah, woe is me ! " the old Lord said, 

" I rue my bargain sore ! " 

This Lord he had a Daughter faire, 

Beloved of old and young, 
And nightly round the shealing fires 

Of her the Gleeman sung. 

"As sweet and good is young Kathleen 

As Eve before her fall ;" 
So sang the Harper at the Fair, 

So harped he in the Hall. 

" Oh, come to me my Daughter dear ! 

Come sit upon my knee. 
For looking in your face, Kathleen, 

Your Mother's own I see ! " 

He smoothed and smoothed her Hair away. 

He kissed her Forehead fair : 
'' It is my darling Mary's brow. 

It is my darling's hair ! " 

Oh, then spake up the angry Dame, 

" Gret up, get up," quoth she, 
" I'll sell ye over Ireland, 

I'll sell ye o'er the sea ! " 

She clipped her glossy Hair away, 
That none her rank might know, 

She took away her Gown of silk 
And gave her one of tow. 



MAB6ARET SMITH'S JOURNAL. 

And sent her down to Limerick to^, 

And to a Captain sold 
This Daughter of an Irish Lord 

For ten good Pounds in gold. 

The Lord he smote upon his hreast, 

And tore bis beard so gray ; 
But he was old, and she was young, 

And so she had her way. 

Sure that same night the Baushee howled 

To fright the evil Dame, 
And fairy folks, who loved Kathleen, 

With funeral torches came. 

She watched them glancing through the Trees, 

And glimmering down the Hill ; 
They crept before the dead-vault Door, 

And there they all stood still ! 

** Get up, old Man ! the wake-lights shine ! " 
" Ye murthering Witch," quoth he ; 

" So I'm rid of your tongue, I little care 
If they shine for you or me.** 

" Oh whoso brings my Daughter back. 

My gold and land shall have I " 
Oh, then spake up his handsome Page, 

" No gold nor land I crave ! 

" But give to me your Daughter dear. 

And by the Holy Tree 
Be she on Sea or on the Land, 

I'll bring her back to thee." 



170 MABOARET SMITHES JOXTSNAL. 

" My Daughter is a lady born, 

And you of low degree, 
Bat she shall be your Bride the day 

Ye bring her back to me.** 

He sailed East, he sailed West, 
And North and South sailed he, 

Until he came to Boston town, 
Across the great salt Sea. 

" Oh have ye seen the young Kathleen, 

The flower of Ireland ? 
Ye*ll know her by her eyes so bine. 

And by her snow-white hand I ** 

Out spake an ancient man, " I know 
The Maiden whom ye mean ; 

I bought her of a Limerick man, 
And she is called Kathleen." 

** No skill hath she in household work. 
Her hands are soft and white, 

Yet well by lovbg looks and ways 
She doth her cost requite." 

So up they walked through Boston town. 

And met a Maiden fair, 
A little Basket on her arm 

So snowy- white and bare. 

" Come hither Child, and say hast thou 
This young man ever seen 7 " 

They wept within each other's arms. 
The Page and young Kathleen. 



MAEGARET SMITH's JOURNAL. 171 

" Oh gire to me this darling child, 

And take my purse of gold : '* 
" Nay, not by me," her Master said, 

" Shall sweet Kathleen be sold." 

•' We loved her in the place of one 

The Lord hath early ta*en ; 
But since her heart 's in Ireland, 

We give her back again ! " 

Oh for that same the Saints in Heaven 

For his poor Soul shall pray, 
And Holy Mother wash with tears 

His heresies away. 

Sure now they dwell in Ireland, 

As you go up Claremore 
Ye'll see their Castle looking down 

The pleasant Oalway shore. 

And the old Lord's Wife is dead and gone, 

And a happy man is he, 
For he sits beside his own Kathleen, 

With her darling on his knee. 

Mar. ye 22nd, 1697. 
Spent the afternoon and evening yesterday at Mr. ^ 
Mather's, with Uncle and Aunt, Rebecca and Sir 
Thomas, and Mr. Torrey, of Weymouth, and his wife ; 
Mr. Thacher, the Minister of the South Meeting, and 
Major Simon Willard, of Concord, being present also. 
There was much discourse of certain Antinomians, 



172 MARGARET SMITHES JOURNAL. 

whose loose and scandalous teachings in respect to 
Works were strongly condemned, although Mr. Thacher 
thought there might be danger, on the other hand, of 
falling into the error of the Socinians, who lay such 
stress upon Works, that they doe not scruple to unde^ 
value and make light of Faith. Mr. Torrey told of 
some of the Antinomians, who, being guilty of scanda- 
lous sins, did nevertheless justify themselves, and plead 
that they were noe longer under the Law. Sir Thomas 
drew Rebecca and I into a corner of the room, saying 
he was a-w 3ary of soe much disputation, and began 
relating somewhat which befel him in a late visit to the 
New Haven people. Among other things, he told us 
that while he was there, a maid of nineteen years was 
put upon tryal for her life, by complaint of her parents 
of disobedience to their Commands, and reviling them ; 
that at first the Mother of the girl did seem to testify 
strongly against her ; but when she had spoken a few 
words, the accused crying out with a bitter lamentation, 
that she should be destroyed in her youth by the words 
of her own Mother, the woman did so soften her testi- 
monie that the Court, bemg in doubt upon the Matter, 
had a consultation with the Ministers present, as to 
whether the accused girl had made herself justly liable 
to the puishment prescribed for stubborn and rebellious 
children in Deut. xxi. 20, 21. It was thought that this 



MARGARET SMITH'S JOURNAL. 178 

Law did applie specially unto a rebellious son, according 
to the words of the Text, and that a daughter could 
not be put to death under it ; to which the Court did 
assent, and the girl, after being admonished, was set 
free. Thereupon, Sir Thomas told us, she ran sobbing 
into the arms of her Mother, who did rejoice over he 
as one raised from the dead, and did moreover mighti- 
lie blame herself for putting her in soe great Peril, by 
complaining of her disobedience to the Magistrates. 

Maj. Willard, a pleasant, talkative man, being asked 
by Mr. Thacher some questions pertaining to his journey 
into the New Hampshire, in the year '52, with the 
learned and pious Mr. Edward Johnson, in obedience 
to an order of the General Court, for the finding the 
Northernmost part of the River Merrimack, gave us a 
little history of the same, some Parts of which I 
deemed noteworthy. The companie, consisting of the 
two Commissioners, and two Surveyors, and some In- 
dians, as guides and hunters, started from Concord 
about the middle of July, and followed the river on 
which Concord lies, until they came to the great Falls 
of the Merrimack, at Patucket, where they were kindly 
entertained at the Wigwam of a Chief Indian who 
dwelt there. They then went on to the Falls of the 
Amoskeag, a famous place of resort for the Indians, 
and encamped at the foot of a Mountain, under the 



174 MAlfiAKKT SXITH's JOURNAL. 

shade of some great trees, where they spent the next 
day, it being the Sabbath. Mr. Johnson read a pordon 
of the Word, and a Psalm was sung, the Indians mt« 
ting on the ground a little way off, in a yeiy reyeien* 
tial manner. They then went to AnnahocJdine, when 
were some Indian cornfields, and dience, oyer a wiI4 
hiQy countrie, to the head of the Merrimack, at a plac9 
called by the Indians Aquedahcan, where they took an 
obsenradon of the latitude, and set their names upon ^ 
great Rock, with that of the Worshipful Govenior, 
John Endicut Here was the great Lake \^^nnepisef 
ogee, as large over as an English coun^, with manie 
islands upon it, verie green with trees and vines, and 
abounding with Squirrels and Birds. Tliey ^>ent two 
days at the Lakers outlet, aoe of ihem the Sabbath, a 
wonderfully still, quiet day of the midsunmier. ^^ It is 
strange,^ said the M«^r, " but soe it t5,that ahhou^ a 
quarter of a century hath passed oyer me since that 
day, it is still vene fresh and sweet in my memorie. 
Many times, in my musings, I seem to be once more 
sitting under the beechen trees of Aquedahcan, with 
my three En^ish friends, and I doe verily seem to see 
the Indians squatted on the Lake shore, round a fire, 
cooking their dishes, and the smoak thereof curling 
about among the trees, over their heads ; and beyond 
tiiem is the great Lake and the Islands therec^, some 



MARGARET SMITHES JOURNAL. 175 

big and others exceeding small, and the Mountains 
that doe rise on the other side, and whose woody tops 
showe in the still water as in a Glass. And, withal, I 
do seem to have a sense of the smell of flowers, which 
did abound there, and of the strawberries with which 
tbe old Indian cornfield near unto us was red, they being 
then ripe and luscious to the Taste. It seems, also, as 
if I could hear the baric of my Dogg, and the chatter 
of Squirrels, and the songs of the Birds, in the thick 
woods behind us; and, moreover, the voice of my 
friend Johnson, as he did call to mind these words of 
the CIV Psaboa : Bless the Lord, oh my sovl ! Who 
eoverest thyself with Lights as with a garment : who 
stretchest out the Heavens like a Curtain ; who layeth 
the beams of His Chambers in the Waters ; who maketh 
the Clouds His chariot ; and walketh upon the Wings 
of the Wind ! " Ah me ! I shall never truly heare 
that voice more, unless, through God's mercie, I be 
permitted to join the Saints of light in Praise and 
Thanksgiving beside stiller waters and among greener 
pastures than are those of Aquedahcan." 

*' He was a shining light, indeed," said Mr. Mather, 
** and, in view of his loss and that of other worthies in 
Church and State, we may well say, as of old, JZe/p, 
Lord, for the goodlie Manfaileth ! " 

Major Willard said that the works of Mr. Johnson 



176 



did praise him, especiallie that monument of his piety 
and learning, " The History of New England^ or 
Wonder-Working Providence of Stan's Saviour^^ 
wherein he did showe himself in Verse and in Prose a 
workman not to he ashamed. There was a piece which 
Mr. Johnson writ upon hirchen Bark at the head of fte 
Merrimack, during the journey of which he had spoken, 
which had never been printed, but which did more 
deserve that honor than much of the Rhymes with 
which the land now aboundeth. Mr. Mather said he 
had the piece of Bark then in his possession, on which 
Mr. Johnson did write ; and, on our desiring to see it, 
he brought it to us, and, as we could not well make 
out the Writing thereon, he read it as followeth : — 

This lonesome Lake, like to a Sea, among ye mountains lies, 
And like a Glass doth show their shapes, and eke the Clouds aid 

Skies. 
Grod lays his Chambers' beams therein, that all his power may koov, 
And holdeth in his fist ye Winds, that else would mar the Show. 

The Lord hath blest this Wilderness with Meadows, Streams, aad 

Springs, 
And like a (harden planted it with green and growing things, 
And filled ye woods with wholesome meats, and eke with Fowls jt 

air. 
And sown ye land with Flowers and Herbs, and Fruits of savor 

rare 



MAEGARET SMITHES JOURNAL. 177 

;Bat here ye Nations know him not, and come and go ye days, 

' Without a morning prayer to him, or evening song of praise ; 

The Heathen fish upon ye Lake, or hunt ye woods for meat, 

And like ye brutes doe give no thanks for wherewithal to eat. 

They dance in shame and nakedness, with horrid yells to hear, 

. And like to Doggs they make a noise, or screeching Owls anear. 

Each tribe like Micah doth its priest or cunning Powah keep. 

Tea, Wizards who, like them of old, doe mutter and doe peep. 

A cursed and an evil race, whom Satan doth mislead, 
And rob them of Christ's hope, whereby he makes them poor indeed ; 
They hold ye Waters, and ye Hills, and Clouds, and Stars, to be 
Their gods ; for, lacking Faith, they doe believe but what they see. 

Yet Grod on them his Sun and Rain doth evermore bestow. 
And ripens all their harvest fields and pleasant fruits also. 
For them he makes ye Deer and Moose, for them ye Fishes swim, 
And all ye Fowls in woods and air are goodlie gifts from Him. 

Yea, more ; for them, as for ourselves, hath Christ a ransom paid, 
And on himself, their sins and ours, a common burthen laid. 
By nature, vessels of God's wrath, 'tis he alone can give 
To English or to Indians wild the ^race whereby we live. 

Oh, let us pray that in these wilds ye Gospel may be preach't, 
And these poor Gentiles of ye woods may by its truth be reach't ; 
That ransomed ones ye tidings glad may sound with joy abroad, 
And lonesome Aquedahcan hear ye praises of ye Lord ! 

Mar. ye iSth. 
My cough still troubling me, an ancient Woman, 
coming in yesterday, did soe set forth the worth and 
12 



ns 



TTz^ae of & Srng of !ur ■■koBC^ Att Aunt fiatrsoa 
Koc fjfii* ovsr 13 ^ vcauxs loiBie fior a bottle of it 
T^ woasaxL sk wxx isa /uec* v^ue. besng m lirely 
mTrirg 3o^. aLznuix^ S3v v^ Kn Ibunsooie Tcan 
of 1^. Sbe coGui "xZ aBBDf :&aies of the old people 
of Bgsdc Kf . 3iLT3i£ 3e«a 5k imaJ k :^ wife of a Han 
of scoK Xaae saii SxMKice, asi ^ks^ beraeif t 
sxutff S^«3Kvi^« a:&i ^ swui ■Ouznl parts, sbe vis 
v«u jookgii ^pccL ^ 3e xoer aiBBC of people. After 
i&e iifrajy a W^djv, sok^ vis fcr a iio^ dme in tbe 
ftM~-T of Gi]Nr. Ffwyqc aa Naaaufcea^ vbom diB 
de9cr3e^ »i^ a ^ssc aai ;^3iaa5e rnam^ bat exceeding ex- 
ace 3L :ae tacJedag »;£ Jjt Trt mu fc u w ^ mm& of figy Temper 
nkaL WWa ^puCft93Rd, ke woKji poll hard at tbe 
joog rs£of baiie v^idk ke vore Gfon ius Cbin; and 
oa ooe occaffaift. w^e secsi^ in ^e Coon, lie plucked 
oc Lk TE^vet cam and cast it in ibe &ce of one of 
dke- Assscaynfis, wbo v5i pco&ss CQBscienCMKzs sciu^ks 
agaiiBC esie pcziibi^ :» oea^ of ^ Qaakers^ 

- I hare beaid say his baiaa vas beavy upon tbese 
peopie,** IsasL 

^ And veil ii mlg^ be«** saad die oud Wocoan, ^ for 
moie pesdkn; aod pnyro^ing S^roSexs azid Banteis 
Tou saaZ Dever niftd uaan dxse same Quakers. Tbey 
veie sacb a sose uoubbe lo the Goi^eiaoc, tbat I doe 
beuere bis days veie sbortesed by leaioQ of tbeoL 



H^HGARET SMITHES JOURNAL. 179 

For, neither the Jail, nor Whipping, nor cropping of 
Ears, did suffice to rid him of them. At last, when 8 
Law was made by the General Court, banishing them 
on pain of death, the Governor coming home from 
Bost<Hi, said that he now hoped to have peace in the 
Colonie, and that this sharpness would keep the land 
free from these Troublers. I remember it well, how 
die next day he did invite the Ministers and chief Men, 
and in what a pleasant frame he was. In the Morning 
I had mended his best velvet Breeches for him, and he 
praised my work not a little, and gave me six shillings 
oyer and above my wages ; and says he to me : 
'Goody Lake,' says he, * you are a worthie Woman, 
and doe feel concerned for the good of Zion, and the 
orderly carrying of matters in Church and State, and 
hence, I know you will be glad to hear that, after 
much ado, and in spite of the strivings of evil-disposed 
People, the General Court have agreed upon a Law for 
driving the Quakers out the jurisdiction, on pain of 
death ; soe that, if anie come after this, their Blood be 
upon their own Heads. It is what I have wrestled 
with the Lord for this manie a month, and I doe count 
it a great deliverance, and special favor ; yea, I may 
truly say, with David : " Thou hast given me my 
hearVs desire^ and hast not withholden the Prayer of 
my lips. Thy hand shall find out all thine Enemies f 



180 MARGARET SMITlfs JOURNAL. 

thou shall make them as a fiery oven in the time of 
thine Anger ; the Lord shall swalloto them up in Ui 
wrath, and the fire shall devour them.'*'* You will iGiqd 
these words, Goody Lake,' says he, * in the xxi Psalm, 
where what is said of the King will serve for such as 
be in authoritie at this time.' For you must know, 
young woman, that the Governor was mighty in Scrip- 
ture, more especially in his Prayers, when you could 
think that he had it all at his tongue's end. 

" There was a famous dinner at the Governor's that 
day, and manie guests, and the Grovemor had ordered 
from his cellar some Wine, which was a gift from 
a Portugal Captain, and of rare qualitie, as I know of 
mine own tasting, when word was sent to the Govemor 
that a man wished to see him, whom he bid wait 
awhile. After dinner was over, he went into the Hall, 
and who should be there but Wharton, the Quaker, 
who, without pulling off his hat, or other salutation, 
cried out: ^ John Endecutt, Hearken to the Word 
of the Lord, in whose fear and dread I am come. 
Thou, and thy evil Counsellors, the Priests, have 
framed iniquity by Law, but it shall not avail you. 
Thus, saith the Lord, Evil shall slay the wicked^ oMd 
ihey that hate ike righteous shall he desolate ! '* Now, 
when the Govemor did bear this, he fell, as must needs 
be, into a Rage, and, seeing me by the door, he btde 



MARGARET SMITHES JOURNAL. 181 

ne call the servants from the Kitchen, which I did, 
md they running up, he hade them lay hands on the 
Pellow, and take him away ; and then in a great pas- 
iion he called for his Horse, saying he would not rest 
mtil he had seen forty stripes save one Ifiid upon that 
5ursed Quaker, and that he should go to the gallows 
fet for his sauciness. Soe, they had him to the Jail, 
md the next morning he was soundlie whipped, and 
>rdered to depart the jurisdiction." 

I, being curious to know more concerning the 
Quakers, asked her if she did ever talk with any of 
;hem who were dealt with by the authorities, and what 
hey said for themselves. 

** Oh, they never lacked words," said she, " but 
sried out for Libertie of Conscience, and against Per- 
«cution, and prophecied all manner of evil upon such 
IS did put in force the Law. Sometime about the year 
56, there did come two Women of them to Boston, 
md brought with them certain of their blasphemous 
Books, which the Constables burnt in the street, as I 
¥ell remember by this token, that, going near the fire, 
md seeing one of the Books not yet burnt, I stooped 
o pick it up, when one of the Constables gave me a 
{mart rap with his Staff, and snatched it away. The 
kVomen being sent to the Jail, the Deputy Governor, 
^r. Bellingham, and the Council, thinking they might 



182 MARGARET SMITHES JOURNAL. 

be Witches, were for having them searched ; and Madam 
Bellingham naming me and another Woman to her 
Husband, he sent for us, and bade us go to the Jail 
and search them, to see if there was any Witch-mark 
on their Bodies. Soe we went, and told them our 
errand, at which they marvelled not a little, and one 
of them, a young, well-favored Woman, ' did entreat 
that they might not be put to such shame, for the Jailer 
stood all the time in the yard, looking in at the door ; 
but we told them such was the order, and soe, without 
more ado, stripped them of their clothes, but found 
nothing save a mole on the left breast of the younger, 
into which Good wife Page thrust her Needle, at which 
the Woman did give a crie as of paine, and the blood 
flowed ; whereas, if it had been a Witch's mark, she 
would not have felt the prick, nor would it have caused 
Blood. Soe, finding nothing that did look like Witch- 
craft, we lefl them ; and on being brought before the 
Court, Deputy Governor Bellingham asked us what we 
had to say concerning the Women. Whereupon Good- 
wife Page, being the oldest of us, told him that we did 
find noe appearance of Witches upon their Bodies, 
save the mole on the younger Woman's breast, (which 
was but natural,) but that otherwise she was fair as 
Absalom, who had no blemish from the soles of his 
Feet to the crown of his Head. Thereupon the Deputy 



KARGARET SMITHES JOTTRMAL. 183 

€rovernor dismissed us, saying that it might be that the 
Devil did not want tiiem for Witches, because they 
eould better serve him as Quakers ; whereat all the 
Court fell to laughing." 

** And what did become of the Women ? " I asked, 

" They kept them in jail awhile," said Nurse Lake, 
'^ and then sent them back to England. But the others 
that followed fared harder, some getting whipped at 
the cart-tail, and others losing their Ears. The hang* 
man's wife showed me once the Ears of three of them, 
which her husband cut off in the Jail that verie mom- 
ing." 

" This is dreadful ! " said I, for I thought of my dear 
brother, and sweet Margaret Brewster, and tears filled 
mine eyes. 

" Nay ; . but they were sturdy knaves and vaga- 
bones," answered Nurse Lake, " although one of them 
was the son of a great Officer in the Barbadoes, and 
accounted a gentleman before he did run out into his 
evil Practices. But cropping of ears did not stop these 
headstrong people, and, they still coming, some were 
put to death. There were three of them to be hanged 
at one time. I doe remember it well, for it was a clear 
warm day about the last of October, and it was a brave 
aight to behold. There was Marshall Michelson, and 
Capt. Oliver, with two hundred Souldiers afoot, besides * 



184 BIARGARET SMITHES JOITSNAL. 

manie on horse of our chief people, and among them 
the Minister Mr. Wilson, looking like a Saint as he was, 
with a pleasant and joyful Countenance, and a great 
multitude of people, men, women and children, not 
only of Boston, but from the towns round about I got 
ecurlie on to the ground, and when they were going to 
the Gallows I kept as near to the condemned ones as I 
could. There were two young well-favored Men, and 
a Woman with grey hairs. As they walked hand in 
hand, the Woman in the middle, the Marshall, who 
was riding beside them, and who was a merry drolling 
man, asked her if she wasnH ashamed to walk hand in 
hand between two young Men ; whereupon, looking 
upon him solemnly, she said she was not ashamed, for 
this was to her an Hour of great joy, and that no eye 
could see, no ear hear, no tongue speak, and no heart 
understand, the sweet incomes and refreshings of the 
Lord^s spirit, which she did then feel. This she spake 
aloud, soe that all about could hear, whereat Capt 
Oliver bid the Drums to beat, and drown her voice. 
Now, when they did come to the gallows ladder, on 
each side of which the officers and chief people stood, 
the two men kept on their Hats, as is the ill manner of 
theu' sort, which so provoked Mr. Wilson, the Minister, 
that he cried out to them : ' What ! shall such Jacks 
'as you come before authoritie with your Hats on?' 



MARGARET SMITH'S JOURNAL. 185 

To which one of them said, ' Mind you, it is for not 
puttmg off our Hats that we are put to death.' The 
two men then went up the ladder, and tried to speak ; 
but I could not catch a word, being outside of the Sol- 
diers, and mtich fretted and worried by the crowd. 
They were presentlie turned off, and then the Woman 
went up the ladder, and they tied her coats down to 
her feet, and put the Halter on her neck, and, lacking 
a handkerchief to tie over her face, the Minister lent 
the Hangman his. Just then, your Uncle Rawson 
comes a riding up to the gallows, waving his Hand, 
and crying out, ' Stop ! she is reprieved ! ' Soe they 
took her down, although she said she was ready to die 
as her Brethren did, unless they would undo their 
bloody laws. I heard Capt. Oliver tell her it was for 
her Son's sake that she was spared. Soe they took her 
to Jail, and after a time sent her back to her Husband 
in Rhode Island, which was a favor she did in no wise 
deserve ; but good Governor Endecutt, much as he 
did abhor these people, sought not their lives, and 
spared no pains to get them peaceably out the Coun- 
trie ; but they were a stubborn Crew, and must needs 
run their necks into the halter, as did this same Woman, 
for, coming back again, under pretence of pleading 
for the repeal of the laws against Quakers, she was not 
long after put to death. The excellent Mr. Wilson 



186 MABGARET SMITHES JOURNAL, 

made a brave Ballad on the hanging, which I have 
heard the Boys in the Street sing manie a time. 

"A great number, both Men and Women, were whip- 
ped and put in the stocks," continued the woman, " and 
I once beheld two of them, one a youngs and the otiier 
an aged Woman, in a cold day in Winter, tied to the 
tayl of a Cart, going through Salem Street stripped to 
their waists as naked as they were bqm, and their 
backs all covered with red whip-marks ; but there wsui 
a more pitiful case of one Hored Grardner, a young 
married woman, with a little child and her nurse, who, 
coming to Weymouth, was laid hold of and sent to 
Boston, where both were whipped, and, as I was often 
at the Jail to see the Keeper's Wife, it soe chanced 
that I was there at the time. The Woman, who waa 
young and delicate, when they were stripping her, held 
her little Child in her arms ; and when the Jailer 
plucked it from her bosom, she looked round anx- 
iouslie, and, seeing me, said, ' Good Woman, I know 
thou'lt have pity on the Babe,' and asked me to hold 
it, which I did. She was then whipped with a three- 
fold Whip, with knots in the ends, which did tear 
sadlie into her flesh, and af^er it was over she kneeled 
down, with her Back all bleeding, and prayed for them 
she called her Persecutors. I must say I did greatlie 
pitie her, and I spoke to the Jailer's Wife, and w6 



MARGAKET SMITH's JOURNAL. 187 

washed the poor creature^s back, and put on it some 
famous Ointment, soe that she soon got healed.'' 
> Aunt Rawson now coming in, the matter was 
dropped ; but, on my speaking to her of it after Nurse 
Jjake had left, she said it was a sore tryal to manie, 
even those in authoritie, and who were charged with 
the putting in force of the laws against these People. 
She furthermore said, that Uncle Eawson and Mr. 
Proadstreet were much cried out against by the 
Quakers and their abettors on both sides of the Water,' 
but they did but their duty in the Matter, and for her- 
self she had always mourned over the coming of these 
People, and was glad when the Court did set anie of 
them free. When the Woman was hanged, my Aunt 
spent the whole day with Madam Broadstreet, who 
was soe wrought upon that she was fain to take to her 
Bed, refusing to be comforted, and counting it the 
heaviest day of her life. 

'' Looking out of her chamber window," said Aunt 
Hawson, ^^ I saw the people who had been to the Hang- 
ing coming back from the training field; and when 
Anne Broadstreet did hear the sound of their Feet in 
the Koad, she groaned, and said that it did seem as if 
every foot fell upon her Hearte. Present lie, Mr. 
Broadstreet came home, bringing with him the Minister, 
Mr. John Norton. They ^at down in the Chamber, 



ISS MAM&AMET SMITH'S JOUmXAJL, 

wdA for some little time there iras scarce a word 
spoken. At lei^th. Madam Broaidstreet, turning to her 
Hosband, and laying her hand on his arm, as was her 
loving manner, asked him if it was indeed all over. 
* The Woman b dead,' said he, * bat I marvel, Anne, 
lo see TOO soe troubled about her. Her blood is upon 
her own Head, lor we did by no means seek her life. 
She hadi trodden under fool our Laws, and misused oar 
great forbearanoe, soe that we could do no otherwise 
Aan we have done. Soe under die Derfl^s deluskm 
was she, that she wanted noe 3iinister or Elder to pray 
with her at die Gallows, but seemed to think herself 
sure of Heaven, heeding in no wise the warnings of 
Mr. Norton, and odier godhr people.^ ^ Did she rayl 
at, or ciie out against, ame r "^ asked his Wife. ^ Nay, 
not to my heating/ he s^d, ^ but she <arned herself 
as one who had done no harm, and who verilie 
believed that she had obeyed the Loid^s wilL^ ** 

^Thxs is verie dreadiu!,** said she, " and I pray that 
the death of tbaz poor misled creature may not rest 
heavy upon us.** 

Hereupon Mr. No^^Ml liiVed up his Head, which had 
been bowed down upon his Hand : and I ^lall never 
forge: how his paV ^nd sbarp Features did seem paler 
dnin their wxnt« and lus solemn Voice seemed deeper 
and sadder. 



MARGAKET SMITHES JOURNAL. 189 

" Madam ! " he said, " it may well befit your gen- 
tleness and sweetness of Heart to grieve over the 
sufferings even of the froward and ungodly, when they 
be cut off from the congregation of the Lord, as His 
holy and just law enjoineth, for verily I also could' 
weep for the condemned one, as a Woman and a 
Mother, and, since her coming, I have wrestled with 
the Lord, in prayer and fasting, that I might be His 
instrument in snatching her as a Brand from the 
burning. But, as a Watchman on the walls of Zion, 
when I did see her casting Poyson into the Wells of 
Life, and enticing unstable souls into the snares and 
pitfalls of Satan, what should I doe but sound an alarm 
against her? And the Magistrate, such as your 
worthie Husband, who is also appointed of God, and 
set for the defence of the Truth, and the safetie of the 
Church and the State, what can he doe but faithfuUie 
to execute the law of God, which is a terror to evil 
doers? The natural pitie which we feel must give 
place unto the duty we doe severally owe to God and 
His Church, and the Government of His appointing. 
It is a small matter to be judged of Man's judgment, 
for, though certain people have not scrupled to call me 
cruel and hard of Heart, yet the Lord knows I have 
wept in secret places over these misguided Men and 
Women.'' 



190 MARGARET SMITHES JOURNAL. 

" But might not life be spared ? '' asked Madam 
Broadstreet. " Death is a great thing." 

" It is appointed unto all to die," said Mr. Norton, 
" and after death cometh the Judgment. The death of 
these poor Bodies is a bitter thing, but the death of the 
Soul is far more dreadful ; and it is better that these 
People should suffer, than that hundreds of precioas 
Souls should be lost through their evil communication. 
The care of the dear souls of my Flock lieth heavilie 
upon me, as manie sleepless nights and days of fasting 
doe bear witness. I have not taken counsel of flesh and 
blood in this grave Matter, nor yielded imto the natural 
weakness of my Heart. And while some were for 
sparing these workers of Iniquity, even as Saul spared 
Agag, I have been strengthened as it were to hew 
them in pieces before the Lord in Gilgal. Oh, Madam, 
your honored Husband can tell you what travail of 
Spirit, what sore tryals, these disturbers have cost us ; 
and as you doe know in his case, soe believe also in 
mine, that what we have done hath been urged, not by 
hardness and crueltie of Heart, but rather by our love 
and tenderness towards the Lord's heritage in this land. 
Through care and sorrow I have grown old before my 
time, few and evil have been the Days of my Pilgrim- 
age, and the end seems not far off; and though I have 
manie sins and shortcomings to answer for, I doe 



MARGARET SMITHES JOURNAL. 191 

humbly trust that the blood of the souls of the Flock 
committed to me will not then be found upon my 
garments." 

" Ah, me ! I shall never forget these words of that 
godly man," continued my Aunt, " for, as he said, hisr 
end was not far off. He died verie suddenlie, and the 
Quakers did not scruple to say that it was God's judg- 
ment upon him for his severe dealing with their People. 
They even go soe far as to say that the Land about 
Boston is cursed because of the hangings and whip* 
pings, inasmuch as Wheat will not now grow here, as 
it did formerlie, and indeed manie, not of their way^ 
doe believe the same thing." 

April ye 24ih. 

A vessel from London has just come to Port, bring- 
ing Rebecca's dresses for the Wedding, which will take 
place about the middle of June, as I hear. Uncle 
Hawson has brought me a long letter from Aunt Grin- 
dall, with one also from Oliver, pleasant and livelie, like 
himself. No special news from Abroad, that I hear 
of. My heart longs for Old England more and more. 

It is supposed that the free-holders have chosen Mr. 
Broadstreet for their Governor. The vote. Uncle says, 
is exceeding small, verie few people troubling them- 
selves about it 



193 XAXSAXXT SKZZB*S XfCEMAX^ 

Mr. ^>cji Easltc & nan of sooie mie in the Piofi- 
QeoM y.t—:t-«-f>^ b&viac accasun u> Tisit Bosum yes- 
«en5LT« ~2r:Qp£ m^ & mmhice &iam nrr Kodier, to die 
coarc •^*' ibe vas ac-v wn^rirrt and aetded, and did 
gie&ilje 5esLre cae v Bokifr rie Joomey to his Hoon 
in ^e oy.rtt-y cc ks £c£tti. Jobn Kn«on, and hif 
Will's Sissr. I aaazed «> break the maiter to nj 
Uncje* bcz £cOa£c«m ba:;k ooae ao Sar me, and he hadi, 
to DT cr*: a: Jc-t ocsoKcoeii iheEcto ; ibr, indeed, be 
lefasei:^ accziizx i: ber. Mr Ana: feais £v me, dnt I 
ihil soiff fxca sie cKtuiL as ^ vea^KT ii bv- no ineaiii 
aecifcc, sjib:^:;^^ ±ie Sa»u is ibrvani, ns compared 
vr± ±e jsac : 2c: I :^iLl mce sooc caie as lo dothiiig; 
and JvCji Efts^a s£i± v« saa2 be bcx tvo nights oo 



Tie KBCisn&. &t Te Iftk. ICTf. 
Wr '-n K:t5c:c: cc :be 4ri. a: aboc: smrse, and rode 
Qd &: £ r:^ r*^(U -iz:^ v% c&zDe » :be banks of die 
Kirer. il:c^ wij^l v^ wcs: aear a mDe beibee wie fixmi 
a schtrOr F-:-ri.iZii erecirjert ihe vaaer vas soe deep 
:b&: vf cclj l»i esci^ a vecs^ by omviag oar Feet 
^ ^ r>£ s&S£rr-c^^es. AbcG aooB, ve saopped at a 



MABGARET SMITHES JOURIiAL. 193 

Farmer's house, in the hope of getting a Dinner ; but 
the room was dirty as an Indian Wigwam, with two 
children in it, sick with the Measles, and the Woman 
herself in a poor way, and we were glad to leave as 
aoon as possible, and get into the fresh Aire again. 
Aunt had provided me with some cakes, and Mr. 
Easton, who is an old traveller, had with him a roasted 
Fowl, and a good loaf of Indian Bread ; soe, coming to 
a spring of excellent Water, we got off our Horses, 
and, spreading our napkins on the grass and drie 
leaves, had a comfortable Dinner. John's Sister is a 
Widow, a livelie merry Woman, and proved rare com- 
penie for me. Afterwards we rode until the Sun was 
nigh setting, when we came to a little hut on the Shore 
of a broad Lake at a place called Massapog. It had 
been dwelt in by a white Familie formerly, but it was 
now empty, and much decayed in the roof, and as we 
did ride up to it we saw a wild Animal of some sort 
leap out of one of its windows, and run uito the pines. 
Here Mr. Easton said we must make shift to tarry 
through the Night, as it was manie miles to the house 
of a white man. Soe getting off our Horses, we went 
into the hut, which had but one room, with loose 
boards for a floor ; and as we sat there in the Twilight, it 
looked dismal enough ; but presentlie Mr. Easton com- 
ing in, with a great load of dried boughs, struck a light 
13 



194 MARGARET SMITHES JOURNAL. 

in the stone Fire-place, and we soon had a roaring fire. 
His Sister broke off some hemlock boughs near 4e 
door, and made a Broom of them, with which she swept 
up the floor, soe that when we sat down on blocks by 
the Hearth, eating our poor Supper, we thought our- 
selves quite comfortable and tidy. It was a wonderful 
clear Night, the Moon rising as we judged, about eight 
of the Clock, over the tops of the Hills on the Easteriy 
side of the Lake, and shining brightlie on the Water in 
a long line of Light, as if a silver Bridge had been laid 
across it. Looking out into the Forest, we could see 
the beams of the Moon, falling here and there through 
the thick tops of the Pines and Hemlocks, and showing 
their tall trunks, like to so manie pillars in a Church at 
Temple. There was a Westerlie Wind blowing, not 
steadily, but in long Gusts, which, sounding from a 
great distance through the Pine leaves, did make a 
solemn and not unpleasing Musick, to which I listened 
at the door until the cold drove me in for shelter. Our 
Horses, having been fed with Corn, which Mr. Easton 
took with him, were tied at the back of the Building, 
under the cover of a thick growth of Hemlocks, which 
served to break off the night Wind. The Widow and 
I had a comfortable bed in the corner of the room, 
which we made of small Hemlock sprigs, having our 
Cloaks to cover us, and our saddle-bags for Pillows. 



MABGAHET SMITH'S JOURNAL. 195 

My companions were soon asleep, but the exceeding 
strangeness of my situation did keep me a long time 
awake. For, as I lay there looking upward, I could 
aee the Stars shining down a great hole in the Roof, 
Emd the moonlight streaming through the seams of the 
logs, and mingling with the red glow of the coals on 
the Hearth. I could hear the Horses stamping, just 
outside, and the sound of the Water on the Lake shore, 
the crie of wild Animals in the depth of the Woods, 
and, over all, the long and very wonderful murmur of 
the Pines in the Wind. At last, being sore weary, I 
fell asleep, and waked not until I felt the warm Sun 
shining in my face, and heard the voice of Mr. Easton, 
bidding me rise, as the Horses were readie. 

After riding about two hours, we came upon an 
Indian Camp, in the midst of a thick wood of Maples. 
Here were six spacious Wigwams ; but the men were 
away, except two verie old and infirm ones. There 
were five or six Women, and perhaps twice as manie 
Children, who all came out to see us. They brought 
us some dried Meat, as hard nigh upon as chips of 
Wood, and which, although hungrie, I could feel no 
stomach for ; but I bought of one of the Squaws two 
great cakes of Sugar, made from the sap of the Maples 
which abound there, verie pure and sweet, and which 
served me instead of their unsavory Meat and cakes 



196 MARGARET SMITHES JOVRKAIm 

of pounded Corn, of which Mr. Easton and his sister 
did not scruple to partake. Leaving them, we had a 
long and hard ride to a place called Winnicinnit, where, 
to my great joy, we found a comfortable House and 
Christian people, with whom we tarried. The next day 
we got to the Plantations ; and about noon, from the 
top of a hill, Mr. Easton pointed out the Settlement 
where my Brother dwelt — a fair, pleasant Valley, 
through which ran a small river, with the houses of the 
Planters on either side. Shortly afler, we came to a 
new frame house, with a great oak Tree left standing 
on each side of the gate, and a broad Meadow before 
it, stretching down to the water. Here Mr. Easton 
stopped ; and now, who should come hastening down 
to us but my new Sister, Margaret, in her plain but 
comelie dress, kindly welcoming me ; and soon my 
Brother came up from the Meadow, where he was busie 
with his men. It was indeed a joyful meeting. 

The next day, being the Sabbath, I went with my 
brother and his wife to the Meeting, which was held 
in a large house of one of their Quaker neighbors. 
About a score of grave, decent people did meet there, 
sitting still and quiet for a pretty while, when one of their 
number, a venerable man, spake a few words, mostlie 
Scripture ; then a young woman, who, I did afterwards 
learn, hacf been hardly treated by the Plymouth people^ 



HAKGARET SMITHES JOURNAL. 197 

did offer a few words of encouragement and exhorta- 
tion from this portion of the xxxiv Psalm : The Angel 
of the Lord encampeth round about them that fear Aim, 
and delivereth them. When the Meeting was over, 
some of the ancient Women came and spake kindly to 
me, inviting me to their houses. In the evening, cer- 
tain of these people came to my Brother's, and were 
kind and loving towards me. There was, nevertheless, 
a gravitie and a certain staidness of Deportment, which 
I could but ill conform unto, and I "was not sorry when 
they took leave. My Uncle Rawson need not fear my 
joining with them ; for although I doe judge them to be 
a worthy and pious people, I like not their manner of 
Worship, and their great gravitie and soberness doe 
little accord with my natural temper and spirits. 

May ye 16th. 
This place is in what is called the Narraganset 
Countrie, and about twenty miles from Mr. Williams' 
Town of Providence, a place of noe small note. Mr. 
Williams, who is now an aged man, more than four- 
score, was the founder of the Province, and is held in 
great esteem by the people, who be of all sects and 
persuasions, as the Government doth not molest any, 
in worshipping according to Conscience ; and hence 
you will see in the same neighbourhood. Anabaptists, 



198 MABGABET SMITH's JOUBNAL. 

Quakers, New Lights, Brownists, Antinomians, and 
Socinians — nay, I am told there be Papists also. Mr. 
Williams is a Baptist, and holdeth mainlie with Calvin 
and Beza, as respects the decrees, and hath been a 
bitter reviler of the Quakers, although he hath oft- 
times sheltered them from the rigor of the Massachu- 
setts Bay Magistrates, who he saith have noe warrant 
to deal in matters of Conscience and Religion, as tbej 
have done. 

Yesterday came the Governor of the Rhode Island, 
Nicholas Easton, the father of John, with his youngest 
daughter Mary, as fair and as ladye-like a person as I 
have seen for many a day. Both her father and herself 
doe meet with the " Friends," as they call themselves, 
at their great house on the Island, and the Grovemor 
sometimes speaks therein, having, as one of the Elders 
here saith of him, " a pretty Gift in the Ministry." Mary, 
who is about the age of my brother's wife, would fain 
persuade us to goe back with them on the morrow to 
the Island, but Leonard's business will not allow it, and 
I would by no means lose his companie while I tarry in 
these Parts, as I am soe soon to depart for home, where 
a great Ocean will separate us, it may be for manic 
years. Margaret, who hath been to the Island, saith 
that the Governor's house is open to all new comers, 
who are there entertained with rare courtesie, he being 



MARGABEi; SMITHES JOUBNAL. 199 

a man of substance, having a great Plantation, with 
Orchards and Gardens, and a statelie House on an hill 
overlooking the Sea on either hand, where, six years 
ago, when the famous George Fox was on the Island, 
he did entertain and lodge no less than fourscore per- 
sons, beside his own familic and servants. 

Governor Easton, who is a pleasant talker, told a 
story of a Magistrate who had been a great persecutor 
of his people. On one occasion, after he had cast a 
worthy Friend into jail, he dreamed a dream in this 
wise : He thought he was in a faire, delightsome place, 
where wei;e sweet springs of Water and green 
Meadows, and rare Fruit-trees and Vines with ripe 
Clusters thereon, and in the midst thereof flowed a 
River whose waters were clearer than Chrystal. More- 
over, he did behold a great multitude walking on the 
River's bank, or sitting lovingly in the Shade of the 
Trees, which grew thereby. Now while he stood 
marvelling at all this, he beheld in his dream, the Man 
he had cast into Prison sitting with his Hat on, side by 
side with a Minister then dead, whom the Magistrate 
had held in great esteem while living ; whereat, feeling 
his anger stirred within him, he went straight and bade 
the man take off his Hat in the presence of his betters. 
Howbeit the twain did give no heed to his words, but did 
continue to talk lovmgly together as before ; whereupon 



200 MAKGARET SMITHES JOVSlf AIm 

he waxed exceeding wroth and would have laid Hands 
upon the man. But, hearing a voice calling upon him 
to forbear, he did look about him, and behold one, wiA 
a shining countenance, and clad in Raiment soe white 
that it did dazzle his Eyes to look upon it, stood before 
him. And the Shape said, *'*' Dost thou well to be 
angry!'' Then said the Magistrate, "Yonder is a 
Quaker with his Hat on talking to a godly Minister.'' 
"Nay," quoth the Shape, "thou seest but after the 
Manner of the World and with the Eyes of Flesh, 
Look yonder, and tell me what thou seest." So he 
looked again, and lo, two men in shining R^dment, like 
him who talked with him, sat under the tree. " Tell 
me," said the Shape, " if thou canst, which of the 
twain is the Quaker and which is the Priest" And 
when he could not, but stood in amazement confessing 
he did see neither of them, the Shape said, " Thoa 
sayst well, for here be neither Priest nor Quaker, Jew 
nor GentDe, but all are one in the Lord." Then he 
awoke, and pondered long upon his dream, and when 
it was morning he went straightway to the Jail and 
ordered the man to be set free, and hath ever since 
carried himself lovingly towards the Quakers. 

My Brother's lines have indeed fallen unto him in a 
pleasant place. His house is on a warme slope of a 
Hill, looking to the Southeast, with a great wood of 



MARGARET SMITHES JOURNAL. 201 

Oaks and Walnuts behind it, and before it many Acres 
of open land, where formerlie the Indians did plant 
their Com, much of which is now ploughed and 
seeded. From the top of the Hill one can see the 
waters of the great Bay ; at the foot of it runs a small 
River noisily over the rocks, making a continual 
murmur. Going thither this Morning, I found a great 
rock hanging over the water, on which I sat down, 
listening to the noise of the Stream, and the merrie- 
ment of the Birds in the trees, and admiring the green 
banks, which were besprinkled with white and yellow 
Flowers. I called to mind that sweet fancie of the 
lamented Anne Broadstreet, the Wife of the new 
Governor of Massachusetts, in a little piece which she 
nameth " Contemplations," being written on the banks 
of a Stream, like unto the one whereby I was then 
sitting, in the which the Writer first describeth the 
beauties of the Wood, and the flowing Water, with the 
bright Fishes therein, and then the songs of Birds in 
the boughs over her Head, in this sweet and pleasing 
Verse, which I have often heard repeated by Cousin 
Rebecca : 

" While musing thus, with Contemplation fed, 
And thousand fancies buzzing in my Brain, 
A sweet-tongu'd songster percht above my Head, 
And chanted forth her most melodious Strain ; 



202 HARGARET SMITHES JOURNAL. 

Which rapt me soe with Wonder and Delight, 

I judged my Hearing better than my Sight, 

And wisht me Wings with her awhile to take my flight. 

" O merrie Bird ! said I, that fears no snares, 
That neither toyles nor hoards up in the Bam, 
Feels no sad thoughts, nor cruciating cares. 

To gain more Good, or shun what might thee Harm. 
Thy C loathes ne'er wear, thy Meat is everywhere, 
Thy Bed a bough, thy Drink the water clear, 
Reminds not what is past, nor what 's to come dost fear. 

"The dawning morn with Songs thou dost prevent. 
Sets hundred notes unto thy feathered Crew, 
Soe each one tunes bis pretty Instrument, 

And, warbling out the old, begins the new. 
And thus they pass their youth in Summer season, 
Then follow thee unto a better region. 
Where Winter's never felt by that sweet airy legion." 

Now, while I did ponder these lines, hearing a step in 
the leaves, I looked up, and behold there was an old , 
Indian close beside me ; and, being much affrighted, I 
gave a loud Crie, and ran towards the House. The 
old man laughed at this, and, calling afler me, said he 
would not harm me ; and Leonard, hearing my Cries, 
now coming up, bade me never fear the Indian, for he 
was a harmless Creature, who was well known to him. 
Soe he kindlie saluted the old man, asking me to shake 
Hands with him, which I did ; when he struck across 
the Field to a little cleared spot on the side of the 



MARGARET SMITH'S JOURNAL. S08 

Hill. My Brother bidding me note his actions, I saw 
him stoop down on his Knees, with his Head to the 
ground, for some space of time, and then getting up, 
he stretched out his Hands towards the Southwest, as 
if imploring some one whom I could not see. This he 
repeated for nigh upon half an hour, when he came 
back to the house, where he got some Beer and Bread 
to eat, and a great Loaf to carry away. He said but 
little until he rose to depart, when he told my Brother 
that he had been to see the graves of his Father and 
his Mother, and that he was glad to find them as he 
did leave them the last Year ; for he knew that the 
Spirits of the dead would be sore grieved, if the white 
man^s hoe touched their Bones. 

My Brother promised him that the burial place of 
his People should not be disturbed, and that he would 
find it as now, when he did again visit it. 

" Me never come again," said the old Indian. " No. 
Umpachee is very old. He has no Squaw ; he has 
no young men, who call him Father. Umpachee is 
like that tree ; " and he pointed, as he spoke, to a 
Burch, which stood apart in the Field, from which the 
bark had fallen, and which did show no leaf nor bud. 

My Brother hereupon spake to him of the Great 
Father of both White and Red men, and of His Love 
towards them, and of the measure of Light which he 



204 MAR6ABET SMITHES JOURNAL. 

had given unto all men, whereby they might know 
Good from Evil, and by living in obedience to which 
they might be happie in this Life and in that to come ; 
exhorting him to put his trust in God, who was able to 
comfort and sustain him in his old age, and not to 
follow after lying Powahs, who did deceive and mislead 
him. 

" My young Brother's talk is good," said the old 
man. " The Great Father sees that his skin is White, 
and that mine is Red. He sees my young Brother 
when he sits in his Praying house, and me when me 
offer him Com and Deer's flesh in the woods, and he 
says Good. Umpachee's People have all gone to one 
place. If Umpachee goe to a Praying house, the 
Great Father will send him to the white Man's place, 
and his Father and his Mother and his Sons will never 
see him in their Hunting ground. No. Umpachee is 
an old beaver that sits in his own House, and swims in 
his own Pond. He will stay where he is until his 
Father calls him." 

Saying this, the old Savage went on his way. As 
he passed out of the Valley, and got to the top of the 
hill on the other side, we, looking after him, beheld 
him standing still a moment, as if bidding farewell to 
the graves of his people. 



MARGARET SMITHES JOURNAL. 205 

May ye 24lh. 
My Brother goes with me to-morrow on my way to 
Boston. I am not a little loath to leave my dear Sister 
Margaret, who hath greatlie won upon me by her gen- 
tleness and loving deportment, and who doth at all 
times, even when at work in ordering her household 
Affairs, and amidst the cares and perplexities of her 
new life, show forth that sweetness of Temper and that 
Simplicitie wherewith I was charmed when I first saw 
her. She hath naturally an ingenious Mind, and, since 
her acquaintance with my Brother, hath dipped into 
such of his studies and readings as she had leisure and 
freedom to engage in, soe that her conversation is in no 
wise beneath her station. Nor doth she, like some of 
her People, especially the more simple and unlearned, 
affect a painful and melancholic Look, and a canting 
tone of Discourse, but lacketh not for cheerfulness, and 
a certain natural ease and grace of Demeanor ; and the 
warmth and goodness of her Heart doth at times break 
the usual quiet of her Countenance, like to sunshine 
and wind on a still Water, and she hath the sweetest 
smile I ever saw. I have of^en thought, since I have 
been with her, that if Uncle Rawson could see and 
hear her as I doe for a single day, he would confess 
that my Brother might have done worse than to take a 
Quaker to Wife. 



206 aiARGARET SMITHES JOXnELNAL. 

Boston, May ye 28th, 1679. 
Through Grod's mercy, I got here safe and well, 
saving great weariness, and grief at parting with my 
Brother and his Wife. The first day we went as far 
as a place they call Rehoboth, where we tarried over 
Night, finding but small comfort therein ; for the house 
was soe filled, that Leonard and a friend who came 
with us, were fain to lie all night in the Bam, on the 
mow before their Horses ; and, for mine own part, I 
had to choose between lying in the large room, where 
the Man of the house and his Wife and two Sons, 
grown Men, did lodge, or to climb into the dark loft, 
where was barelie space for a Bed — which last I 
did make choice of, although the Woman thought it 
strange, and marvelled not a little at my unwillingness 
to sleepe in the same room with her Husband and 
Boys, as she called them. In the evening, hearing 
loud voices in a house near by, we enquired what it 
meant, and were told that some People from Provi- 
dence were holding a Meeting there, the owner of the 
House being accounted a Quaker. Whereupon, I went 
thither with Leonard, and found nigh upon a score of 
People gathered, and a man with loose haire and beard 
speaking to them. My Brother whispered to me that 
he was no Friend, but a noted Ranter, a noisie, unset- 
tled man. He screamed exceeding loud, and stamped 



MARGARET SMITHES JOURNAL. 207 

with his Feet, and foamed at the Mouth, like one pos- 
sessed with an Evil Spirit, crying against all order in 
State or Church, and declaring that the Lord had a 
controversy with Priests and Magistrates, the Prophets 
who prophecie falsely, and the Priests who bear rule 
by their means, and the People who love to have it so. 
He spake of the Quakers as a tender and hopeful 
People in their beginning, and while the arm of the 
wicked was heavie upon them ; but now he said that 
they, even as the rest, were settled down into a dead 
order, and heaping up worldlie goods, and speaking 
evil of the Lord's Messengers. They were a part of 
Babylon, and would perish with their Idols ; they should 
drink of the Wine of God's Wrath ; the day of 
their Visitation was at hand. After going on thus for 
a while, up gets a tall, wild-looking Woman, as pale as 
a Ghost, and trembling from head to foot, who, 
stretching out her long arms towards the Man who had 
spoken, bade the People take notice that this was the 
Angel spoken of in Revelations, flying through the 
midst of Heaven, and crying. Woe ! woe ! to the in^ 
habitants of the earth I with more of the like wicked 
rant, whereat I was not a little discomposed, and, beck- 
oning my Brother, left them to foam out their shame to 
themselves. 

The next morning, we got upon our horses at an 



208 MARGARET SMITH'S JOURKAl.. 

earlie hour, and, after a hard and long ride, reached 
Mr. Torrey's, at Weymouth, about an hour after darL 
Here we found Cousin Torrey in bed with her second 
child, a boy, whereat her husband is not a little rejoiced. 
My brother here took his leave of me, going back to 
the Plantations. My Heart is truly sad and heayie with 
the great grief of parting. 

May ye 30th. 
Went to the South Meeting to-day, to hear the Ser- 
mon preached before the worshipful Grovemor, Mr. 
Broadstreet, and His Blajestie^s Council, it being the 
Election day. It was a long Sermon, from Esther, x. 3. 
Had much to say concerning the dutie of Magistrates 
to support the Crospel and its Ministers, and to put an 
end to Schism and Heresie. Very pointed, alsoe, 
against time-serving Magistrates. 

Jane ye 1st. 
Mr. Michael Wigglesworth, the Maiden Minister, at 
Uncle^s house last night Mr. Wigglesworth told Aunt 
that he had preached a Sermon against the wearing of 
long Haire, and other like Vanities, which he hoped 
with God's blessing might doe good. It was from 
Isaiah, iiL 16, and so on to the end of the Chapter. 
Now, while he was speaking of the Sermon, I whis- 
pered Rebecca that I would like to ask him a question, 



MARGARET SMITHES JOURNAL. 209 

which he overhearing, turned to me, and bade me never 
heed, but speak out. Soe, I told him that I was but a 
Child in years and knowledge, and he a wise and 
learned Man ; but, if he would not deem it forward in 
me, I would fain know whether the Scripture did anie 
where lay down the particular fashion of wearing the 
Hair. 

Mr. Wijgglesworth said that there were certain gen- 
eral Rules laid down, from which we might make a 
right application to particular cases. The wearing of 
long Haire by men is expressly forbidden in 1 Corin- 
thians, xi. 14, 15; and there is a special word for 
women, also, in 1 Tim. ii. 9. 

Hereupon, Aunt Rawson told me she thought I was 
well answered ; but I, (foolish one that I was,) being 
unwilling to give up the matter soe, ventured farther to 
say that there were the Nazarites, spoken of in Num- 
bers, vi. 5, upon whose heads, by the appointment of 
God, no Razor was to come. 

" Nay," said Mr. Wigglesworth, " that was by a 
special Appointment only, and proveth the general 
rule and practice." 

Uncle Rawson said that long hair might, he judged, 
be lawfullie worn where the bodilie Health did require 
it, to guard the necks of weaklie people from the cold. 

" Where there seems plainlie a call of Nature for it," 
14 



210 MABGARBT SMITHES JOUHNAL. 

said Mr. Wigglesworth, '' as a matter of bodilie com* 
fort, and for the warmth of the head and neck, it is no 
wise unlawful. But for healthy, sturdy young people 
to make this excuse for their sinful Vanitie, doth but 
add to their condemnation. If a man go any whit 
beyond Grod's appointment and the comfort of Nature, 
I know not where he will stop, until he grows to be the 
veriest Ruffian in the world. It is a wanton and shame- 
ful thing for a man to liken himself to a woman, by 
suffering his Haire to grow, and curling and parting it 
in a Seam, as is the manner of too manie. It beto- 
keneth pride and yanitie, and causeth no small Ofience 
to godly, sober people. 

"The time hath been," continued Mr. Wiggles- 
worth, "when Grod's people were ashamed of such 
vanities, both in the home Countric and in these parts; 
but since the Bishops and the Papists have had their 
way, and such as feared God are put down from Au- 
thoritie, to give place to scomers and wantons, there 
bath been a sad change." 

He furthermore spake of the gay apparel of the 
young women of Boston, and their lack of plainness 
and modestie in the manner of wearing and ordering 
their Haire ; and said he could in no wise agree with 
some of his brethren in the Ministry, that this was a 
light Matter, inasmuch as it did most plainlie appear 



MARGARET SMITHES JOURNAL. 211 

from Scripture, that the pride and haughtiness of the 
daughters of Zion did provoke the judgments of the 
Lord, not only upon them, but upon the men also. 
Now, the special sin of women is Pride and Haughti- 
ness, and that because they be generally more igno- 
rant, being the weaker vessel; and this sin venteth 
itself in their gesture, their haire and apparel. Now, 
God abhors all pride, especially pride in base things ; 
and hence the conduct of the daughters of Zion does 
greatlie provoke his Wrath, first against themselves, 
secondly their fathers and husbands, and thirdly against 
the land they do inhabit. 

Rebecca here rogueishly pinched my arm, saying 
apart, that, after all, we weaker Vessels did seem to 
be of great consequence, and nobody could tell but 
that our head-dresses would yet prove the ruin of the 
Countrie. 

June ye 4 th. 

Robert Pike, coming into the Harbour with his 
Sloop, from the Pemaquid country, looked in upon us 
yesterday. Said that since coming to the Town he 
had seen a Newbury man, who told him that old Mr. 
Wheelwright, of Salisbury, the famous Boston Minister 
in the time of Sir Harry Vane and Madam Hutchinson, 
was now lying sick, and nigh unto his end. Also, that 
Goodman Morse was soe crippled, by a fall in his barn, 



212 MABGABET SMITHES JOUBNAL. 

that he cannot get to Boston to the tryal of his Wife, 
which is a sore affliction to him. The tryal of the 
Witch is now goi^g on, and Uncle saith it looks much 
against her, especially the testimony of the Widow 
Groodwin about her child, and of John Gladding about 
seeing one half of the bodie of Goody Morse flying 
about in the Sun, as if she had been cut in twain, or as 
if the Devil did hide the lower part of her. Robert 
Pike saith such testimonie ought not to hang a Catt, 
the Widow being little more than a fool ; and as 
for the fellow Gladding, he was no doubt in his 
Cups, for he had often seen him in such a plight 
that he could not have told Goody Morse from the 
Queen of Sheba. 

June ye 8th. 
The Morse woman having been found guilty by the 
Court of Assistants, she was brought out to the North 
Meeting, to hear the Thursday Lecture, yesterday, 
before having her sentence. The House was filled 
with People, they being curious to see the Witch. The 
Marshall and the Constables brought her in, and set her 
in front of the Pulpit ; the old Creature looking round 
her wildly, as if wanting her wits, and then covering 
her face with her dark, wrinkled hands ; a dismal sight ! 
The Minister took his text in Romans, xiii. 3, 4, especi- 
ally the last clause of the 4th verse, relating to Ruleis : 



213 



For he heareth not the sword in vain^ &c. He dwelt 
upon the power of the Ruler as a Minister of God, and 
as a Revenger to execute wrath ujv)n him that doeth 
evil ; and showeth that the punishment of Witches, 
and such as covenant with the Devil, is one of the 
duties expressly enjoined upon Rulers by the Word of 
God, inasmuch as a Witch was not to be suffered to live. 
He then did solerhnlie address himself to the con- 
demned Woman, quoting 1 Tim. v. 20: Them that 
sin rebuke before alU that others also may fear. The 
Woman was greatlie moved, for no doubt t he sharp 
words of the Preacher did prick her guilty Conscience, 
and the terrors of Hell did take hold of her, so that she 
was carried out, looking scarcelie alive. They took 
her when the Lecture was over to the Court, where the 
Governor did pronounce sentence of death upon her. 
But Uncle tells me there be manie who are stirring to 
get her respited for a time at least, and he doth him- 
self incline to favor it, especiallie as Rebecca hath 
labored much with him to that end, as alsoe hath Maj. 
Pike and Maj. Saltonstall with the Governor, who him- 
self sent for Uncle last Night, and they had a long talk 
together, and looked over the Testimonie against the 
woman, and neither did feel altogether satisfied with it. 
Mr. Norton adviseth for the hanging ; but Mr. Willard, 
who has seen much of the Woman, and hath prayed 



214 MABGAUET SMITHES JOITENAL. 

with her in the Jail, thinks she may be innocent in the 
matter of Witchcraft, inasmuch as her Conversation 
was such as might become a godly person in affliction, 
and the reading of the Scripture did seem greatlie to 
comfort her. 

June ye 9th. 
Uncle Rawson being at the Jail to-day, a Messenger, 
who had been sent to the Daughter of Goody Morse, 
who is the Wife of one Hate Evil Nutter, on the Co- 
checo, to tell her that her Mother did greatlie desire to 
see her once more before she was hanged, coming in, 
told the condemned Woman that her daughter bade him 
say to her, that inasmuch as she had sold herself to the 
Devil, she did owe her no further love or service, and 
that she could not complain of this, for as she had made 
her Bed, soe she must lie. Whereat the old Creature 
set up a miserable cry, saying that to have her own 
flesh and blood turn against her was more bitter than 
Death itself. And she begged Mr. Willard to pray for 
her, that her trust in the Lord might not be shaken by 
this new Affliction. 

June ye 10th. 
The condemned Woman hath been reprieved by 
the Governor and the Magistrates, until the sitting of 
the Court in October. Manie People, both Men and 



MARGARET SMITH's JOURNAL. 215 

Women, coming in from the Towns about to see the 
Hanging, be sore disappointed, and doe vehementlie 
condemn the Conduct of the Goverpor therein. For 
mine own part, I doe truly rejoice that Mercie hath 
been shown to the poor creature ; for, even if she is 
guiltie, it affordeth her a season for Repentance ; and 
if she be innocent, it saveth the land from a great Sin. 
The sorrowful look of the old creature at the Lecture 
hath troubled me ever since, soe forlorn and forsaken 
did she seem. Maj. Pike, (Robert's Father,) coming 
in this Morning, says, next to the sparing of Goody 
Morse's life, it did please him to see the blood-thirsty 
Rabble soe cheated out of their diversion ; for example, 
there was Goody Matson, who had ridden bare-backed, 
for lack of a Saddle, all the way from Newbury, on 
Dea. Dole's hard-trotting Horse, and was soe galled 
and lame of it that she could scarce walk. The Major 
said he met her at the head of King street yesterday, 
with half a score more of her sort, scolding and rayling 
about the reprieve of the Witch, and prophesying 
dreadful Judgments upon all concerned in it. He said 
he bade her shut her Mouth and goe home, where she 
belonged ; telling her that if he heard any more of her 
rayling, the Magistrates should have notice of it, and 
she would find that laying by tlie heels in the Stocks 
was worse than riding Dea. Dole's Horse. 



216 MARGARET SMITHES JOURNAL. 

Jane ye 14. 

Yesterday the Wedding took place. It was an ex- 
ceeding brave one ; most of the old and honored 
Families being at it, soe that the great House wherein 
my Uncle lives was much crowded. Among them 
were Gov. Broadstreet, and manie of the honorable 
Magistrates, with Mr. Saltonstall and his worthy Lady ; 
Mr. Richardson, the Newbury Minister, joining the 
twain in marriage in a verie solemn and feeling man- 
ner. Sir Thomas was richly apparelled, as became 
one of his rank, and Rebecca, in her white Silk, looked 
comelie as an Angel. She wore the lace Collar I 
wrought for her last Winter, for my sake, although I 
fear me she had prettier ones of her own working. 
The day was wet and dark, with of^ easterly wind 
blowing in great gusts from the Bay, exceeding cold 
for the season. 

Rebecca, or Lady Hale, as she is now called, had 
invited Robert Pike to her wedding, but he sent her an 
excuse for not coming, to the effect that urgent busi- 
ness did call him into the Eastern Countrie as far as 
Monhegan and Pemaquid. His letter, which was full 
of good wishes for her happiness and prosperitie, I 
noted saddened Rebecca a good deal ; and she was, 
moreover, somewhat disturbed by certain things that 
did happen yesterday ; the great Mirror -in the Hall 



MABGASET SMITH's JOITBNAL. 217 

being badly broken, and the Family Arms hanging 
over the fire-place thrown down, soe that it was bnmed 
by the coals kindled on the Hearth, on account of the 
dampness ; which were looked upon as ill signs by 
most People. Grindall, a thoughtless youth, told his 
Sister of the burning of the Arms, and that nothing 
was left save the head of the Raven in the crest, at 
which she grew very pale, and said it was strange, 
indeed, and, turning to me, asked me if I did put faith 
in what was said of signs and prognostics. Soe, see- 
ing her troubled, I laughed at the Matter, although I 
secretlie did look upon it as an ill Omen, espepiallie as 
I could never greatlie admire Sir Thomas. My Broth- 
er's Wife, who seems fully persuaded that he is an 
unworthy person, sent by me a Message to Rebecca, to 
that efiect ; but I had not courage to speak of it, as 
matters had gone so far, and Uncle and Aunt did seem 
soe fully bent upon making a great lady of their 
Daughter. 

The Vessel in which we are to take our Passage is 
near upon ready for the Sea. The Bark is a London 
one, called " The Three Brothers," and is commanded 
by an old acquaintance of Uncle Rawson. I am 
happy with the thought of going Home, yet, as the 
time of Departure draws nigh, I do confess some 
regrets at leaving this Countrie, where I have been so 
15 



218 MABGAUET SMITHES JOURNAL. 

kindlie cared for and entertained, and where I have 
seen soe manie new and strange things. The great, 
solemn Woods, as wild and natural as they were 
thousands of Years ago, the fierce suns of the Summer 
season, and the great snows of the Winter, and the 
wild Beasts, and the heathen Indians — these be things 
the Memory whereof will ever abide with me. To-day 
the Weather is again clear and warm, the Sky wonder- 
fullie bright, the green leaves flutter in the Wind, and 
the Birds are singing sweetlie. The waters of the 
Bay, which be yet troubled by the Storm of last night, 
are breaking in white foam on the rocks of the main 
Land, and on the small Islands, covered with trees and 
vines ; and manie Boats and Sloops going out, with the 
West wind, to their fishing, doe show their white sails 
in the Offing. How I wish I had skill to paint the 
Picture of all this for my English friends ! My Heart 
is pained, as I look upon it, with the thought that afler 
a few days I shall never see it more. 

Jane ye 18. 
To-morrow we embark for Home. Wrote a long 
letter to my dear Brother and Sister, and one to my 
Cousins at York. Mr. Richardson hath just left us, 
having come all the way from Newbury to the 
Wedding. The excellent Gov. Broadstreet hath this 



MARGARET SMITHES JOURNAL. 219 

morning sent to Lady Hale a handsome copie of his 
first wife's Book, intituled " Several Poems by a gen- 
til woman of New England," with these words on the 
blank Page thereof, from Proverbs xxxi. 30, "il 
Woman that feareth the Lord^ she shall he Praised^^ 
written in the Governor's own hand. All the great 
Folks hereabout have not failed to visit my Cousin 
since her Marriage ; but I doe think she is better 
pleased with some visits she hath had from poor 
Widows and others who have been in times past 
relieved and comforted by her Charities and Kindness, 
the gratitude of these people affecting her unto Tears. 
Truly it may be said of her, as of Job : When the Ear 
heard her then it "blessed her, and when the Eye saw 
her it gave witness tb her : "because she delivered the 
poor that cried and the fatherless, and him that had 
none to help him. The blessing of Him that was ready 
to perish came upon her ; and she caused the widow^s 
Heart to sing for Joy, 



[Here the Diary ends somewhat abruptly. It 
appears as if some of the last pages have been lost. 
Appended to the Manuscript I find a note, in another 
handwriting, signed " R. G.," dated at Malton Rectory, 



3S0 HABGASST SMITHES JOVRNAIm 

1747. One Rawson Grindall, M* A., was curate of 
Malton at this date, and the initials are undoubtedly his. 
The sad sequel to the history of the fair Rebecca 
.Rawson is confirmed by papers now on file in the 
State House at Boston, in which she is spoken of as 
^^ one of the most beautiful, polite, and accomplished 
young ladies in Boston." — Editor.] 

^^ These papers of my honored and pious Grand- 
mother, Margaret Smith, who, soon after her return 
from New England, married her Cousin, Oliver 
Orindall, Esq., o£ Hilton Grange, Crowell, in Oxford- 
iriiire, (both of whom have within the last ten years 
departed this Life, greatly lamented by all who knew 
them,) having come into my possession, I have thought 
it not amiss to add to them a narrative of what happened 
to her Friend and Cousin, as I have had the Story 
often from her own lips. 

^^ It appears that the brave gallant, calling himself 
Sir Thomas Hale, for all his fair seeming and hand- 
some address, was but a Knave and Impostor, deceiv- 
ing with abominable villany Rebecca Rawson and most 
of her friends, (although my Grandmother was never 
satisfied with him, as is seen in her Journal.) When 
they got to London, being anxious, on account of sea^ 
sickness and great weariness, to leave the Vessel as 



S31 



soon as possible, they went ashore to the house of a 
Kinsman to lodge, leaving their trunks and clothing on 
board. Early on the vuext morning, he that called 
himself Sir Thomas left his Wife, taking with him the 
keys of her trunks, telling her he would send them up 
from the Vessel in season for her to dress for dinner. 
The trunks came as he scud, but, after waiting impa- 
tiently for the keys until near the dinner hour, and 
her Husband not returning, she had them broken open, 
and, to her grief and astonishment, found nothing 
therein but shavings and other combustible matter* 
Her Kinsman forthwith ordered his carriage, and went 
with her to the Inn where they first stopped on landing 
from the Vessel, where she inquired for Sir Thomas 
Hale. The Landlord told her there was such a Gren- 
tleman, but he had not seen him for some days. ^ But 
he was at your house last night,' said the astonished 
young Woman. ^ He is my Husband, and I was with 
him.' The Landlord then said that one Thomas 
Humsey was at his house, with a young lady, the 
night before, but that she was not his lawful Wife, for he 
had one already in Kent At this astounding news, the 
unhappy young Woman swooned outright, and, being 
taken back to her Kinsman's, she lay grievously ill for 
many days, during which time, by letters from Kent, it 
was ascertained that this Rumsey was a graceless 



22^ 



young spendthrift, who had left his Wife and his two 
children, three years before, and gone to parts 
unknown. 

'* My Grandmother, who affectionately watched over 
her, and comforted her in her great affliction, has often 
told me that, on coming to herself, her poor CJousin 
said it was a righteous judgment upon her, for he 
pride and vanity, which had led her to discard worthy 
Men for one of great show and pretensions, who had 
no solid merit to boast of. She had sinned against 
Grod, and brought disgrace upon her Family, in choos- 
ing him. She begged that his name might never be 
mentioned again in her hearing, and that she might 
only be known as a poor relative of her English 
kinsfolk, and find a Home among them until she could 
seek out some Employment for her maintenance, as 
she could not think of going back to Boston, to become 
the laughing-stock of the thoughtless, and the reproach 
of her father's family. 

" After the marriage of my Grandmother, Rebecca 
was induced to live with her for some years. My 
great Aunt, Martha Grindall, an ancient spinster, now 
living, remembers her well, at that time, describing 
her as a young Woman, of a sweet and gentle disposi- 
tion, and much beloved by all the members of the 
family. Her Father, hearing of her misfdrtunes, 



MASGAEET SMITHES JOUBNAL. 223 

wrote to her, kindly inviting her to return to New 
England, and live with liim, and she at last resolved to 
do so. My great Uncle Robert having an office under 
the Government at Port Royal, in the Island of 
Jamaica, she went out with him, intending to sail from 
thence to Boston. From that place she wrote to my 
Grandmother a letter, which I have also in my posses- 
sion, informing her of her safe arrival, and of her 
having seen an old friend, Capt. Robert Pike, whose 
business concerns had called him to the Island, who 
had been very kind and considerate in his attention to 
her, offering to take her home in his Vessel, which was 
to sail in a few days. She mentions, in a postscript to 
her letter, that she found Capt. Pike to be much 
improved in his appearance and manners — a true 
natural Gentleman ; and she does not forget to notice 
tlie fact that he was still single. She had, she said, 
felt unwilling to accept his offer of a passage Home, 
holding herself unworthy of such civilities at his 
hands ; but he had so pressed the matter that she had, 
not without some misgivings, consented to it. 

" But it was not according to the inscrutable wisdom 
of Providence that she should ever be restored to her 
Father's house. Among the victims of the great 
earthquake which destroyed Port Royal a few days 
after the date of her letter, was this unfortunate Lady. 



»4 



It was a heavy blow to my Grandmother, who enter- 
tained for her Ck>usin the tenderest afiection, and, 
indeed, she seems to have been every way worthy of 
it — lovely m person, amiable in deportment, and of a 
generous and noble Nature. She was, especially ailer 
her great trouble, of a somewhat pensive and serious 
habit of Mind, contrasting with the playfulness and 
innocent light-heartedness of her early Life, as depicted 
in the Diary of my Grandmother, yet she was ever 
ready to foi^t herself, in ministering to the Happiness 
and Pleasure of others. She was not, as I learn, a 
member of the Church, having some scruples in 
respect to the rituals, as was natural from her educa- 
ti(m in New England, among puritanic schismatics ; 
but she lived a devout Life, and her quiet and unosten- 
tatious Piety exemplified the Truth of the language of 
one of the greatest of our Divines, the Bishop of Down 
and Ck)nnor, ^ Prayer is the peace of our Spirit, the 
stillness of our Thoughts, the issue of a quiet Mind, < 
the Daughter of charity, and the Sister of meekness/ ' 

Optimus animus est puicherimus Dei cultus. 

R. G." 



JUN 2 2 1956