USA > Massachusetts > Essex County > Beverly > First Parish Church, Unitarian, Beverly, Mass. a vol. of historical interest pub. in honor of the 275th anniversary of the founding of the church on Sept. 20, 1667 > Part 2
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The Legislature wisely and well declined the petitioner's prayer, but instead of a name provided a much more real and valuable sub- stitute; granting him, in consideration of his long service and great worth, two hundred acres of land. Much as we may respect the so natural and deep feeling with which, in the evening of life, his thoughts recurred to fatherland and his native place, we should be excused from equally admiring the taste which would have had the name he desired in exchange for the good old euphonious one, under which this town was incorporated, which it has hitherto borne, and I
ORIGIN OF THE NAME BEVERLY
trust will ever bear. The latter was derived from a town, once the residence of John de Beverly, so long ago as the beginning of the eighth century of our era. It is noted for its ancient and grand min- ster, has a population of several thousands, and is pleasantly situated, amid beautiful surrounding scenery, in the eastern part of England. In visiting it, I saw much to interest, all the more from the associations I carried with me from its namesake. Tourists from this quarter can- not but be struck, and have somewhat of a home-feeling awakened, as in travelling through that section of country they meet and are saluted with familiar names of places, and find themselves in quick succession,
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for instance, in Cambridge, Boston, Lynn, and Beverly. While we may congratulate ourselves that the aged and venerable Conant failed to deprive the town of this last good name, we may rejoice, that, after the attempt, he enjoyed for years a boon far better than any thing merely nominal; not consisting only or chiefly of lands bestowed in acknowledgment of his long-tried fidelity in the great work he under- took, and to the important trusts committed to him,-but rather in his own calm, even temper, and kindly, devout, Christian spirit; in a consciousness of duty, public and private, bravely, diligently per- formed, in the respect and love by which he was universally attended and followed. And when his long and useful earthly career, eked out to its eighty-ninth year, was brought to a close, and he was summoned to go up higher, there was mourning sincere and deep for him, in many a happy home, secure and flourishing ; where, previously to his coming, untamed and untutored savages, alone of all human beings, had their abode, and hunted and warred, roaming through a desert and dreary wild, and where before him no civilized or Christian man had dwelt. Well may we, in view of this imperfect sketch, borrow an appellation from the language of apostolic time and a later day, and denominate him the angel and patron-saint of this church and parish. Of his
THOMAS LOTHROP
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leading associate in their establishment (Lothrop), I could not, in view of his sincere, upright, and honorable character, and restrained no less than moved by that, speak in terms of extravagant eulogy. Brave and gentle, generous and just, confiding, yet cautious and wise, of large estate for the time, bountifully as skillfully administered, never sparing of his own exertions, but always ready for every good word or work, he had a rare and remarkable hold on the confidence and affection of the community in which he lived. Not sustaining in strictness the paternal relation, he bore the best attributes, sympathies, and adornments of the parental heart,-thus resembling him who, having discharged in private the duties of a loving and faithful parent to children not his own, came at length to be universally acknowledged the Father of his country. He was a father of the fatherless, the widow's friend and support, and the helper of any who had none else to abet or plead their cause.
As a military man, he had what seems, amid the hardships, perils, severities, and fierce conflicts of war, an unnatural combination of qualities, which, if seldom, are sometimes seen,-of gentleness and
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bravery, of stern, inflexible purpose, with kindness and generosity, of unwavering determination with tenderest sympathy, of mild forbear- ance with exalted courage, of persevering, unfaltering energy, with true magnanimity. Says one who, from thorough investigation, could be relied on, "He was the friend of all. I know not where to find a more perfect union of the hero and the Christian; of all that is manly and chivalrous, with all that is tender, benevolent, and devout."
His house was not only the abode of a liberal hospitality, but an asylum for the orphan and the distressed. As objects of his bounty arose and multiplied, his dwelling as his heart seemed to expand; and he who otherwise had been solitary was, in the exercise of his kindly spirit, surrounded by a numerous family. Among them who shared his fostering care was a younger sister, Ellen, whom he brought with him on his return from a visit to England, who fulfilled his fondest wishes, and to whom he was ever afterward as both father and elder brother. She became the second wife of the veteran schoolmaster, Ezekiel Cheever, who taught for more than seventy years,-the first part being distributed in terms of twelve, eleven, and nine years, respectively, at New Haven, Ipswich, and Charlestown; and the last thirty-eight passed at the head of the Boston Latin School, in which capacity he served, with harness on, when he died, and his own long account was rendered in to the Master of all, from whom-if we may venture the surmise-was heard the plaudit, "Well done, good and faithful servant." His powers were wonderfully retained to the end. The celebrated Cotton Mather, celebrated for his learning and lack of wisdom, for virtues that he had and virtues that he had not, whose entire course was eccentric, partaking more of the centrifugal than the centripetal, says, in grateful admiration and deserved eulogy on the decease of Cheever,-
"Although he had usefully spent his life among children, yet he was not become twice a child. In the great work of bringing sons to be men, he was my master seven and thirty years ago; so long ago, that I must even mention my father's tutor for one of them. He was a Christian of the old fashion,- an old New-England Christian; and I may tell you, that was as venerable a sight as the world, since the days of primitive Christianity, has ever looked upon. He lived, as a master, the term which has been for above three thousand years as- signed for the life of a man.
"He lived, and to vast age no illness knew,
Till Time's scythe, waiting for him, rusty grew.
He lived and wrought; his labors were immense, But ne'er declined to preterperfect tense."
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To him, and such as he was, is it greatly owing that the school- house was here, from the first, reared by the side of the house of worship; that the teacher's profession has come to be regarded no less honorable than useful; and that "good learning"-a phrase signifying the promotion of all that is true, great, and good-has been current with us from the beginning; been made, as it were, the motto, and its meaning and spirit infused into all of our civil and literary institutions.
Lothrop having, in early manhood, emigrated from England, settled first in what is now the city of Salem; but a few years after, he received a grant of land on this shore, near the Cove, where is a continuation of the most populous part of the town, and there fixed his residence for the remainder of his life. There he lived for about forty years, a model of fidelity to all his public and private relations. Nothing of the kind can exceed the charming picture of his domestic life which has been handed down to us, and been of late most skillfully and appreciatively drawn. To his ever-ready sympathy as a man, a neighbor, counsellor, friend, there is abundant witness. Various, almost innumerable, were the calls made on him for advice, for con- solation, for attesting, drafting, and executing wills, for appraisal of estates, as trustee and guardian. For several years, he was deputy to the General Court; first from Salem, then from this town, and a selectman of it all the time after its incorporation till his death. This last office was sometimes dignified with the title of "townsman ;" and comprehending, as it then did, the powers and duties of overseer of the poor, assessor of taxes, surveyor of highways, and police judge, without specifying others, we may conclude that it was no sinecure, and that its incumbent might have been entitled also the "man-of-all-work."
His interest and activity in ecclesiastical, were no less than in secular affairs. Soon after his arrival, when quite a young man, he became a member of the Salem Church, with which he continued for a long time to worship and commune. When, in consequence of the in-
THE FIRST RELIGIOUS SERVICES IN BEVERLY
creased population on this side, and the inconveniences of distance and crossing the intervening ferry, it was felt that new accommodations must be provided for the worshippers resident here, he took an active part in all the measures which resulted first in temporary arrangements for religious services, and ultimately-though not till about twenty years after their inception-in the complete organization of this society. Toward its establishment and primitive prosperity, his character, so high, pure, trusted, efficient, and altogether worthy, greatly con-
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tributed, especially connected as it was in the general esteem with that ot Conant, his elder companion in the undertaking. The characters of the two, taken together, constituted a tower of strength, and an in- dubitable pledge for the success, the stability, and spiritual growth of the embryo parish. That when absent on distant expeditions, and even amide the din and stress of war, he was not unmindful of his parochial relations, and of the ties, religious as well as social, which bound him to his home, is evinced by the fact, that on his return from the attack of St. Johns and Port Royal, where he held an important command, and the capture of which he materially aided, he brought with him from the latter place, now Annapolis, and presented to the parish, a
THE FIRST CHURCH BELL IN BEVERLY
bell, which had been in use on a friary there; which was the first of five successive ones that here, by their vibrations, have summoned to united devotion, have tolled the knell of departed spirits vastly out- numbering you who survive, and, in tones scarcely less solemn, marked from day to day the departing hours; have sounded out triumphs of peace and war ; have intoned, as it were, great events, joyful or sad, which have occurred within the last two centuries.
But the end of all this life of activity, energy, and usefulness was drawing on. A fearful tragedy was at hand, in which he was to act the most conspicuous part, to suffer, and fall a sacrifice. King Philip, foremost of Indian chiefs in this quarter, subtle as powerful, had roused his own and neighboring tribes to the determination of desperate warfare,-of nothing less than a life or death struggle be- tween them and the colonists. Consternation, wide-spread and terri- ble, prevailed. No sense of security, but, rather, awful dread of over- hanging peril, pervaded every dwelling and hamlet. Tomahawk and scalping-knife; firearms borrowed by savages from their civilized neigh- bors, and plied with a deadly precision ; hopeless captivity, or deliver- ance from it solely by a cruel death ; the torch of conflagration and the devouring flame, tortures indescribable, and hardly to be conceived ; worse than death, and making it welcome,-these all, and more than these, were elements of the cup of horrors, of which our ancestors of those trying times were called to drink. Of that cup, the people of my native place, then amounting to between two and three hundred, drank to the very dregs. "Within the borders of New England," says her historian, "there is no more attractive spot than the site of the town of Lancaster, Mass." It was a favorite resort and abode of the Indians of its vicinity. Their principal village, the centre around which their wigwams were gathered, was on a gentle, southerly, sunny
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slope, at the fork of the two branches of the Nashua River, most favor- able for fishing and hunting, while the surrounding rich alluvions afforded ample fields for the cultivation of Indian corn. That village was within the bounds of my paternal estate; and there, down to a recent period, have been discovered relics of the aboriginal inhabitants. So, near by, and now included in the acres standing under the same name, is the site of the garrison, whose inmates, on the tenth of Febru- ary, 1676, were either ruthlessly killed, or borne away miserable captives. Among the latter was Mrs. Rowlandson, wife of the first minister of the town, who, wounded and bleeding, was carried off, with a sick and dying child, but, after three months of horrid experi- ence restored to her husband and friends, Her narrative of that experi- ence-so graphic, so circumstantial, so descriptive of the modes of savage life-was among my earliest readings, and left an impression vivid and never to be effaced. I remember well how that, together with local traditions and associations, fired my youthful imagination, haunted my thoughts and fancies by day and my dreams by night. A village sacked, fired, destroyed, all but annihilated; men, women and children murdered, captives, tormented, or dispersed to wander house- less and homeless,-such was the terrible result of savage hostilities in my birthplace, and such the image they had left behind.
When, the summer previous to the scenes I have thus faintly sketched, a cry came from the remoter settlements of Brookfield and on the Connecticut River, that similar perils and calamities were impending over them, there were not wanting, in these the more populated, portions, the men to lend a helping hand, who, instead of shrinking from the emergency, were, and showed themselves to be, fully up to the crisis. There was Major Simon Willard, of highly honorable descent and family, most honored in his own deserts, the first of the name in our annals,-settler of Concord, and afterwards resident of Lancaster and Groton,-the legislator, magistrate, judge, referee, universally confided in; next to the commander-in-chief com- manding the militia of the province; with a line of descendants that would do honor to any name, among whom were two presidents of Harvard College, one of whom was among the most worthy and hon- ored ministers of your own parish. He at seventy years of age, and Lothrop a chief captain under him at sixty-five,-such was the stern stuff of which the fathers of that day were composed, and such their real calibre,-buckle on their armor, girded themselves for the fight, and went forth to the battle, in which the fates if not the frontier alone, but the entire New-England people, seemed involved. Willard, by a
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forced march, and by his bravery and military skill, raised the siege, and relieved the beleaguered garrison of Brookfield. Meantime, Loth-
LOTHROP AND KING PHILIP'S WAR
rop-who had raised a company of a hundred men in his county, that, from their being of the young and most promising, might well be styled its "flower," and who, from his varied experience and tried courage and valor, was of course to take command-pressed on, and joined the forces under Willard at Hadley. Being charged by the latter with the transport of supplies of provisions from Deerfield, he with his com- pany was on the route thence, and, feeling no apprehansion of im- mediate danger, they had laid aside their arms, and paused to regale themselves from the clusters of grapes which hung by the wayside, when the coveted fruit turned to ashes in their grasp, and its sweetness was changed to the gall and bitterness of death. Volleys from hun- dreds of savages in ambush were poured upon them, like lightning from a clear sky; their gallant and beloved commander fell at the outset ; they fought bravely, as best they could with that pall of death over them; but few survived to tell the tale, which, from that time, gave to the little stream they were crossing, which proved to so many "the narrow stream of death," the sad name of Bloody Brook.
This catastrophe sent a thrill of terror and dismay through all the New-England colonies. Especially did the news of it come with appalling force to this county, from which its choicest flowers, "all culled out of its towns," and blooming so lately in manly beauty and strength, had been thus suddenly cut down and withered, as by an untimely, killing frost. Throughout its length and breadth, scarcely was there a village or hamlet left unscathed by this great calamity,-
"No flock, however watched and tended, But one dead lamb was there."
More particularly, and with stunning effect, did the blow fall here, where, beside several that were deeply lamented, the fallen chief was best known, and for that reason most respected, trusted, and loved. Writers at or near the time do but express the feeling generally pre- valent, whether in wider or more restricted circles; while they ac- cumulate, almost without limit, the phrases descriptive of sorrow, agony, and horror, such as "a sad and awful providence," "a dismal and fatal blow,' "a sadder rebuke of Providence than any thing that hitherto had been," "a black and fatal day," "the saddest that ever befell New England."
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BEVERLY IN THE CIVIL WAR
We know full well, after the experience of the past few years of dread civil conflict, what it is to have the young, the brave, and ex- cellent, the highly educated and refined, the flower of our chivalry,- and no more real chivalry has the world witnessed,-go forth with the holiest inspirations of freedom, of love of country, of allegiance to duty and to God, leaving to the loving heart behind a heavy burden of anxieties and harrowing apprehensions,-many of them, alas! falling like the beauty of Israel on her high places, many of them numbered among the "unreturning brave," buried where they fell, or returning, if at all, only on their shields. More than thirty of your number, including your minister, in that crisis thus went forth on land or sea : and, blessed be God! the most of them returned in safety; but some there are who are mourned, and will continue long to be deeply lamented, yet bequeathing the rich solace of their having beautifully and gloriously died for their country. Well, therefore may we some- what comprehend the sacrifices made by the early fathers, when, out of all proportion to any other drafts made on our population for serv- ice in war, they met the awful demands made upon them, and appre- ciate both the pain and the magnanimity with which they gave up their dearest and best to what they regarded their country's cause. Edward Everett, the Cicero of our country and age, whom the Head of the nation (our proto-martyr President, and Heaven grant he may be the last !) announced at his decease as our "first citizen," said, in con- clusion of his eloquent address at the laying of the cornerstone of the Bloody-Brook monument, with his own peculiar felicity, "The 'Flower of Essex' shall bloom in undying remembrance, as the lapse of time shall continually develop, in richer abundance, the fruits of what was done and suffered by our fathers."
OTHER EARLY NAMES IN THE PARISH HISTORY
I have dwelt thus long-longer perhaps than my space of time and your patience might properly allow-on the lives of the two men most prominent in the formation of this parish. Others there were well worthy of mention, and on whose qualities and worth I would gladly enlarge, that were instrumental in establishing it on a firm and durable basis. But, while omitting particular notice of them, let me for a few moments call your attention to the larger view, in which they also will be included, of the high privileges we enjoy, and the great obligations we owe, through the ancestors from whom we are descended, and the excellent of the earth by whom the foundations of
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Church and State among us were securely laid. Not to name or enumerate the Plymouth worthies, but to limit our view to those who arrived within these waters, what a gathering of the true and faithful do we behold! First came Conant and his company, of whom I need not further speak. Then followed the company of Endicott, the wise, upright, magnanimous, yet not devoid of human passions, as was shown when, fined forty shillings for a personal assault, he said, that, if the subject of it had been a better foe, he would have preferred to settle the difficulty on the spot by bodily conflict. Soon afterward came John Winthrop, the great and good, a master-builder in our edifice of state. Accompanying him were choice spirits, actuated by the highest motives, inspired by a sublime enthusiasm, not counting their lives dear, but en- countering all perils, and ready to endure all sufferings, for conscience' sake. Among them was Lady Arabella Johnson, whose coming and fate furnish one of the most pathetic stories in all history or romance. High-born, accomplished, leaving a home of refinement and luxury, of high and wide privilege, "a paradise of plenty for a wilderness of wants," pining in health on the dreary and trying voyage, but never faltering in self-devotion and holy purpose, revived by the sweet- scented gales from these shores, but only stepping on them to find a grave, which, though marked by neither brass nor marble, is known to be almost within sight of the spot where we are assembled, and which, within a few weeks after her mortal part was consigned to it, was shared by her noble, devoted, and grief-stricken husband. They, and those that were with them, afford some of the grandest examples of Christian heroism, self-devotion, and pious trust. Baptized they were as by fire; yet they were baptized, I fully believe, into a purer faith and a higher life than the world had before known. Their very names are redolent with the odor of sanctity ; though dead, they speak ; and, ever since they lived, an elevating and hallowing influence has, in this community at least, been exerted by their lives and characters.
Much has been said and thought of the old errors and defects of our forefathers. Doubtless they are chargeable with such, both light and grave. Among the lighter we may reckon the controversy, conducted at the time with great and serious earnestness, concerning the wearing of veils by women at public worship. Roger Williams had taken the ground that they should always in divine service be worn. But John Cotton, one Sunday morning, when this theory was apparently in the full tide of success, and practically adopted by the good women of Salem, preached against it with such cogency of argument and con- vincing power, that they all, with one accord, came out in the after-
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noon with unveiled faces and charms. It must be remembered, how- ever, that every age has its peculiarities and trivialities, when viewed by succeeding ages; and that our wisest and most charitable course is to judge the past as we would be judged by the future. Illiberality and exclusiveness have also been charged on our ancestors, and surely not without reason. They banished heretics, hung Quakers, and per- mitted none but those of their own religious faith and fellowship to en- joy the right of suffrage, or be called freemen. As appears in the rec- ords of Essex County, Henry Herrick and his wife Edith were fined ten and eleven shillings, respectively (why the difference does not ap- pear, unless on the presumption that the man, as of old, was tempted by the woman), "for aiding and comforting," in this very town, "an ex- communicated person, contrary to order." Yet it is to be considered, that the fathers regarded the society they founded here as a sparate one, entitled to its own peculiar rights and privileges, and planted themselves especially on their favorite idea of a Christian Common- wealth.
Great misapprehension, too, prevails regarding the laws they enacted. Some of them, clearly, were barbarous in their spirit and execution. Thus Philip Ratcliffe was sentenced to be whipped, have his ears cut off, fined forty shillings, and be banished from the colony, for uttering malignant and scadalous speeches against the gov- ernment and church of Salem. Sentence passed on one William An- drews, a mere youth, was, that for conspiracy against his master's life he be whipped,-probably in no slight degree,-and then committed to the not usually tender mercies of slavery. Nevertheless, the "Body of Liberties," the first code of laws adopted in New England, whose en- actment dates back to the year 1641, was in some respects far in advance of its time. It was drafted by Nathaniel Ward, of Ipswich, author of "The Simple Cobbler of Agawam," who, before entering the ministry, had studied and practised law in England ; and a most honorable monument it is of his ability, learning, humaneness, and far-sighted sagacity. To man-stealing it affixed the foulest stigma, by subjecting it to the penalty of death. Whipping of wives by their husbands-which the English common law has allowed and justified almost, if not quite, to this day, the only trial under it being that of the occasion and degree of infliction-Ward's code absolutely forbade, with the single exception, that such correction should be resorted to only in self-defence; and it made a near approach to the separation of Church and State, as now existing among us, by ordaining that no church censure should degrade or depose any man from civil dignity,
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