USA > Massachusetts > Essex County > Essex > History of the town of Essex : from 1634 to 1868 > Part 3
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* For evidence that the first road to Gloucester went by this dwelling of Elias Andrews, see John Burnham's deed, near the close of this chapter.
4
26
HISTORY OF ESSEX.
CHAP. 1.
The whole building, as it presents itself to your view, appears to be from twenty to thirty feet square. You knock at the door, and it is opened by Mrs. C., who gives you a frank and hearty reception. You are somewhat surprised to see in your maternal ancestor, not a Yankee, but an English face,-round, staid, and easy, and not like her posterity, sharp, busy, and care-worn. Her manners are English of the best stamp, for she has moved in good society at home, though not among the nobility. Her dress is neat and handsome ; of the fashion of the times, though to your view exceedingly antiquated. Her whole appearance, and the appearance of the furniture, contrasts somewhat strangely with the rude appearance of the rough logs; of which the floor, as well as the walls of the house, are built. You look up and see the naked poles of the roof, and the thatch which lies upon them. At the end of the building, opposite the door, is the fire- place, constructed of rough stones, the smoothest and best that could be found in their natural state. In front of a huge back-log, eight or ten feet in length, is a bright and glowing fire, sending forth tremendous heat from sticks proportioned in size and length to the log behind. You plant your chair midway between the fire and the door, and can hardly tell by which you are most annoyed, the rushing of the winds through the crevices of the logs in your rear, or the irresistible heat in front. But by often twisting and turning, you contrive to maintain your position between such opposite and powerful foes. Dur- ing the conversation with Mrs. C., and her four interesting daughters, all busy with their knitting, you glance occa- sionally at the objects around you. On one side of the house, you observe some handsome curtains, stretched quite across, which, with one at right angles in the middle, form two bed-rooms, one in each corner of that side of the house. The chairs in the sitting-room, or kitchen, are but few, on account of the difficulty of bringing them
27
VISIT TO THE FIRST SETTLERS.
1634-1700.]
across the deep. But seats are supplied by the numerous trunks and boxes, in which they transported their beds, bedding, clothing, table-linen, damasks, and carpets. As the floor is too rough for their Turkey-wrought carpets, they remain yet unpacked. But the time for supper draws near, and Mrs. C. and her eldest daughter are busy in preparing the repast. The old English kettle is hung over the fire, with contents for a plentiful supper of bean broth, to which, as you are a visitor, a nice cake of Indian hominy is added,-which Mrs. C. contrives to bake by cau- tiously approaching the glowing fire with her face more than half turned away, to preserve her eyes. Presently the father, and two of his sons, come in from their field labor. Harvesting has commenced, and they are reaping the first fruits of their toil in the wilderness. They have not yet wholly lost the delicate appearance resulting from city life and manners ; though the perils of the ocean, and the hardships of the wilderness, have done something to give them a darker hue, and more athletic appearance.
Labor in the open air, in the cool season of Autumn, has given them a keen appetite. The table is now set for the social meal, covered with elegant table-linen, and spread with basins of pewter, and spoons of silver. The broth is poured into an elegant vase, from which each is supplied by a silver ladle. The family gather around, and stand with reverence while the head of the family craves a blessing from the Author of all their mercies.
Supper being ended, and the table removed, all are seated for the evening; the females near the light of a pine torch, for the purpose of sewing and knitting, and the males around the room at their pleasure.
A neighbor calls in to spend a social hour. We will suppose it to be Goodman Bradstreet. The conversation turns at once on the latest news from their father-land, where they have left many dear friends, and in the gov- ernment and prosperity of which, they yet feel a most
28
HISTORY OF ESSEX.
[CHAP. 1.
tender and lively interest. Does King Charles still con- tinue his despotic course, despoiling his subjects of their dearest rights, and provoking them to insurrection and civil war ? Is Archbishop Laud as full of bitterness and persecution towards the Puritans as ever ? are questions eagerly asked, and answered affirmatively, in sad tones, from the testimony of those who have recently arrived. From the discussion of English politics, they turn to their own local affairs, and touch upon the apparently peaceable disposition of their savage neighbors, whose wigwams are close at hand; the danger that would arise from their getting possession of knives and fire-arms; the dangers already existing from the ferocious beasts of the woods near by; the difficulty of preventing cattle and sheep from being devoured by them ; the difficulty, too, of cultivating the soil while the stumps are so thick, and there are only two ploughs for the use of the whole town. With joy and gratitude they advert to the goodness of God, in prosper- ing their crops of Indian corn and English grain ; preserv- ing their lives and health, amidst so many exposures ; and allowing them the inestimable privileges of civil and re- ligious freedom, even in the solitude and perils of the wilderness.
When Goodman Bradstreet has retired, and the evening is well-nigh spent, the good man of the house takes the family Bible, and reads from it aloud those sacred truths, which at their London fireside had been their comfort and support; which had cheered them on the stormy ocean, and were now their consolation and joy ; and then, with much fervency, offers the evening sacrifice of prayer and praise, while all stand round in the silent and solemn attitude of worship.
You are then shown to your lodging for the night,- the bed reserved for visitors, enclosed with curtains to exclude the night air, and the too early light of the morn- ing. As you lie upon your pillow, curiosity prompts you
29
INDIAN WIGWAMS AND CUSTOMS.
1634-1700.]
to draw aside the curtain, and take a peep through the shrunken logs. A beautiful bright star meets your eye with many others less brilliant. The woods resound with . the hideous yells of beasts : among which the howling of a pack of wolves is predominant, and waxes louder and londer, till they seem at length to be close by your bed. With the bleating of the sheep, the bellowing of the cat- tle, and the barking of the stout mastiffs in the yard,-all is bustle, stir and alarm. The family is in motion. Mr. Cogswell and his eldest son seize their rifles, and discharge them in quick succession at the door. The flashing of the powder, and the strange report of the guns soon start off the savage pack ; not, however, without their taking with them one or two poor sheep, partly devoured.
After a refreshing night's sleep, you rise with the morn- ing sun, and breakfast and family worship being ended, you walk out to survey the woodland scenery. A dense forest of birch, oak, chestnut and maple, the growth of centuries, meets your eye in every direction. Here and there you see a cleared spot, which the Indians have burned away, and use for growing corn, or which the new settlers have cleared up for tillage. The road before you, towards the river, winds about, to avoid the larger stumps, and on the low and muddy parts of it, the straight por- tions of small trees are laid, covered here and there with a little earth, or with a plenty of soft brush. You look over on your right into one of the corn-fields, leaning as you look, not on substantial stone walls, but on such slen- der fencing of poles and brush, as the necessity of the times permits, and wonder that amidst such a multitude of burnt stumps, anything can be made to grow by plough- ing or spading the earth.
INDIAN WIGWAMS AND CUSTOMS.
Following an Indian foot-path through the forest, you come out at a wide plot of ground, where are some dozen
30
HISTORY OF ESSEX.
[CHAP. 1.
wigwams, clustered on the sunny side of a hill, which over- looks the marsh and Chebacco River. As you approach their huts with the measured step and cautious eye, which the sight of a savage always inspires, you hesitate whether to go forward or turn back. But curiosity prevails, and you begin to examine their premises. Their wigwams are made of bark, fastened by strong withs to poles driven into the earth, in a broad circle at the bottom, and brought nearly together at the top, to save the necessity of mak- ing a roof. Leaving a hole at the top for the smoke to escape, the fire is kindled in the center beneath ; around which, on the ground, the indolent men are lying or sitting, while their squaws, with their papooses, are abroad, some gathering fuel, some bringing in pumpkins and beans, some drying the fish, and the venison taken by their lords in their last excursion. The skin of some animal tied about their waists, is all their clothing. In one wigwam, into which you take a peep, you see the men busily engaged in gambling ; hazarding, and often losing every particle of property they possessed.
In another direction, you see a company of men, wo- men and children, gathered round a powah. He is per- forming, to their astonishment, some of his wonderful feats. He can make the rocks dance, and the water burn, and turn himself into a blazing man. He can change a dry snake skin into a living snake, to be seen, felt, and heard. All these things you see him do, and are ready to exclaim, "There is no new thing under the sun! That which is done is that which shall be done." But hark! What loud and bitter cry is that, issuing from one of the huts ? It is a lamentation for the dead, made ever and anon by the mourning family, and the neighbors assembled with them. The man of the hut has died, and his burial is to take place before evening.
It is now time to satisfy the cravings of hunger, and
.
31
FISH WEAR.
1634-1700.]
the women are busy preparing food. You are inquisitive to see how it is done. At a little distance from the wig- wam, the fire for cooking is kindled. One is moistening some corn, which she has bruised in a hollow stone with a stone pestle, by pouring water upon it from a dried pumpkin shell, and spreading it for baking upon a thin flat stone. Another is boiling meat in a wooden vessel, by putting hot rocks in the water with the meat, and changing them often. The wooden vessel is a log rudely hollowed out by a stone gouge. As hospitality to stran- gers is the Indian's pride, you are, of course, invited to partake of the repast. It is in the wigwam, where the men are seated upon the ground in a circle, with the food in the centre. You contrive to sit with them, though with far less grace, and eat with them out of the common dish, without knife or fork, or salt, or drink. The women stand round till their lords have finished, and then in a like pos- ture eat up what remains.
After thus dining, in Indian style, you bend your course to the banks of the river, where are a group of Indian children frolicking in the water, some not over three years, swimming like ducklings. Numerous canoes of birch bark are gliding up and down the river, for the pur- pose of " clamming" and fishing. The river will never be more lively a hundred years hence.
FISH WEAR.
As you walk on the bank of the river, you see a con- trivance for catching the river fish. It is called a wear, and belongs to John Perkins, Jr. It consists of stone walls, extending towards each other down the stream, till they come in contact at an angle of forty-five degrees. At this angle a trap is set, made of hoops and twigs, in which great numbers of fish are taken. Mr. Perkins is granted this privilege for seven years, beginning with 1636, and is to sell his alewives at 5s. for 1,000. Richard
32
HISTORY OF ESSEX.
[CHAP. 1.
Kent is also allowed to build another wear, having one already in operation.
On your return to the hill of wigwams, you see a crowd collected for the funeral. The mourners have their faces painted black. The corpse rests by the side of the grave, till they join again in their savage howl. Tears roll freely down the cheeks of old and young. The body is laid in the grave ; and another dismal cry is heard. The mat on which the deceased died, is then spread over the body. His tomahawk and spear, and whatever was most precious to him, is buried with him ; but his garment of skin they hang upon a tree near by, never again to be touched, but to perish with the body.
As you turn away from this solemn scene, deeply af- fected by their dark superstition, and their destitution of the light of Revelation, and of all the comforts and blessings of civilized life, you are more sensible than ever of your obligations to Him who made you, and who died to redeem you. Returning by the road that you came, you pass a thick swamp, and see just before you a bear with her cubs just entering it, and are glad that her eye was turned from you, till she was on her way through the swamp. A little further along, you see a wolf caught in a trap, or rather held fast by a line. He cannot pull away; for the hooks in his mouth attached to the line, cause him great agony. These hooks, four in number, had been bound together by a thread, some wool wrapped about them, and then dipped in melted tallow, till they formed a substance as large as an egg; which has proved a bait to the unsuspecting animal.
Prolonging your visit for a day or two in Mr. Cogswell's family, you call also upon their neighbors, who, though few and far between, are treasures of comfort to each other, abounding in all the sweet charities of good neighborhood. Your walk at this time lies in a north and north-west di- rection, on the road which leads to the centre of Ipswich.
33
CUSTOMS OF THE FIRST SETTLERS.
1634-1700.]
The first house which you come to, is William Goodhue's. He has just moved into the place, and entered his new log building, which is about a quarter of a mile north of Mr. Cogswell's. A half mile beyond William Goodhue's in the same direction, is the Bradstreet house ; and nearly a mile farther, on the dark and solitary road through the woods to Ipswich, is William White's. By your brief visits to each of these families, you learn that they are thoroughly Puritan in their principles, and English in their manners and customs. Their children were born in England, and have been thus far well instructed and brought up. Their houses, though built of logs, are com- fortable and well furnished. Having spent the day pleas- antly in these happy and hospitable families, you return to Mr. C's. It is Saturday evening. The pious household are making preparation for the coming Sabbath, the
" Day of all the week the best,"
and for the proper observance of which, chiefly, they left their native land, and settled in this wilderness. Nothing is left undone which it is practicable to do, by way of preparation for holy time. On Sabbath morning, having risen at an early hour, all get ready with their best ap- parel to attend public worship in the body of the town. The mother is mounted upon a horse, with the youngest daughter behind her; while the other three daughters and three sons, with their father at their head, travel on foot. The mother and daughters, however, ride alternately, as fatigue requires, or choice directs. The father and eldest son go armed, to guard against the attacks of wild beasts. The road is long and rough ; but love for the house of God lightens the toil. They are joined on the way by the families of their neighbors, and the excitement of social affections, and suitable conversation, makes the way seem short.
In less than two hours, you are at the door of the meet- 5
34
HISTORY OF ESSEX. [CHAP. 1.
ing-house, a spacious log building, but filled with many a warm heart, and lighted up with many a heavenly coun- tenance. The service on both parts of the day, consists of prayer, singing, and preaching. The preacher is Mr. Ward, the pastor of the church. His discourses are full of evangelical sentiment, calculated to humble the sinner, and exalt the Saviour; and you know not which most to admire, the lucid arrangement of the excellent matter, sustained at every point by Scripture quotations, or the fluency and fervor of the delivery. You mark, as a pe- culiarity of the times, that one of the elders or deacons, who sit in a pew adjoining the pulpit, in front, reads the psalm, one line at a time, and all in the assembly, that are able, join with him in the singing.
The services being ended at an early hour, the intermis- sion having been short, you commence your return with the pilgrim family. Deeply interested in the preacher, you are prompted, as you walk by the side of Mr. C., to ask of him some account of the man. He cheerfully complies, and gives you the following particulars of his beloved pastor, as he has learned them from an authentic source :
" Mr. NATHANIEL WARD was born at Haverhill, England, in 1570. Hc was educated at one of our principal universities, and after having been for some time a student and practitioner of the law, he traveled in Holland, Germany, Prussia, and Denmark. At the university of Heidelberg, he be- came acquainted with the celebrated scholar and divine, David Pareus, and by conversing with him, was induced to abandon the profession of law, and to commence the study of divinity. After being occupied for some time, in theological pursuits, at Heidelberg, he returned to England, and was settled in the ministry at Standon, in Hertfordshire. He was ordered before the bishop, December 12, 1631, to answer for his non-conformity, and refusing to comply with the requisitions of the church, he was at length forbidden to continue in the exercise of his clerical office. In April, 1634, he left his native country, and arrived here in the following June ; and was soon settled over us as our pastor, being sixty-four years of age."
Having reached Mr. C's. house, and supped with the family, you close the day as it was begun, with household
35
1634-1700.] CHARACTER OF THE FIRST SETTLERS.
devotions, and with conversation suited to make you more useful and happy on earth, and better prepared for the world to come. On the following day you take leave of the family, in which you have made so pleasant a visit, resolving that you will return again, if you live, and see what progress your venerated ancestors have made, in the clearing of land, in the arts of husbandry, and the com- forts of life.
CHARACTER OF THE FIRST SETTLERS.
In the meantime, the settlement and improvement of the place gradually advanced. The persecution of the dissenters in England continuing, great numbers of them embarked for this country. But in 1640 the tide of emi- gration, in a great measure, ceased to flow. The spirit of liberty, and even of republicanism had begun then to show itself in the British Parliament, and hope was cher- ished by the Puritans that they should soon enjoy as much civil and religious freedom there as here. It was esti- mated at the time, that up to 1640, about four thousand families, consisting of twenty-one thousand souls, had ar- rived in two hundred and ninety-eight ships. The ex- pense of the removal of these families was estimated at £192,000 sterling, which, including what they paid at home, and to the Indians here, was a dear purchase of their lands .*
Of these emigrants, Ipswich received a proportional share, both as to numbers, intelligence, and piety. John- son, as quoted by Felt, remarks of Ipswich, as early as 1646, " The peopling of this town is by men of good rank . and quality, many of them having the yearly revenue of large lands in England, before they came to this wilder- ness." Cotton Mather says of Ipswich, in 1638, "Here was a renowned church, consisting mostly of such illumi- nated Christians, that their pastors, in the exercise of
* History of New England.
36
HISTORY OF ESSEX.
[CHAP. 1.
their ministry, might think that they had to do not so much with disciples as judges." Of Mr. Rogers he says : " His colleague here was the celebrious Norton; and glori- ous was the church of Ipswich now in two such extraordi- nary persons, with their different gifts, but united hearts, carrying on the concerns of the Lord's kingdom in it."
FIRST MINISTERS OF IPSWICH.
As Mr. Ward had resigned his office by reason of ill health, the church elected Mr. John Norton as his suc- cessor in 1636, and two years after, chose Mr. Rogers for his colleague. They were in office together, one as pastor, and the other as teacher ; a distinction chiefly nominal, as their official duties were much the same. Mr. Rogers, (Nathaniel,) was born at Haverhill, England, in 1598. He was a descendant of John Rogers, the martyr; was educated at Emanuel College, where he was eminent both as a scholar and a Christian. He came to this country at the age of forty, in company with many others, who all settled with him at Ipswich. Mr. Norton was born at Starford, England, in 1606; entered the university of Cambridge at fourteen; removed to this country in 1635; resided in Boston about a year, and then settled in Ipswich, at the age of thirty. In 1652, he removed to Boston, and was settled as successor to Mr. John Cotton.
Mr. Ward, the first minister of Ipswich, continued to preach in Ipswich occasionally after he resigned his office as pastor of that church. In 1638 he was appointed by the General Court, on a committee to prepare a code of laws. In 1639 he sends them the result of his labors. Copies of it were sent to the several towns for the consid -. eration of the freemen. It was adopted by the General Court in 1641. It consisted of a hundred laws, called the body of liberties. Mr. Ward, it will be remembered, was an eminent lawyer before he became a minister, which was one reason, doubtless, why he was appointed on this
37
1634-1700.]
ELECTIONS AND CITIZENSHIP.
committee. In 1640, with some men of Newbury, he commenced the settlement of Haverhill, where afterwards his son John was settled in the ministry. Having been in this country eleven years, he returned to England, at the age of seventy-five, and became minister of Shenfield, in Essex County, where he lived eight years, and died aged eighty-three. He published, after he returned to England, several tracts, and a book, entitled " The Simple Cobbler of Agawam," a satirical and witty performance.
ELECTIONS AND CITIZENSHIP.
In 1634, a law was passed, that the whole body of free- men meet in Boston, from all the towns, at the General Court of Election, and choose the magistrates, including Governor, and Lieutenant-Governor. In 1636, Ipswich, and five other towns are allowed to keep a sufficient guard of freemen at home from such a court, and to for- ward their proxies. This practice continued for about thirty years, when it went into disuse, and the present usage was in substance adopted. None but freemen could hold offices or vote for rulers. To become a freeman, each person was required to become a member of some Congre- gational church. This was doubtless owing to the peculiar situation of our ancestors at that time. They had fled from the persecution of the Episcopal church at home. Now if they had allowed men of that church, or any other church, hostile to religious freedom, to take the lead in their affairs here, in their feeble state, the result might have been the bringing in of the same persecuting power of the bishops, from which they had already suffered so much, and this would have defeated the very end for which they came here. They might as well have re- mained under the persecuting power of the bishops in their father-land, as to have come to this wilderness, and allowed that power to follow them, and gain the ascend- ancy over them. Their only security against this danger
38
HISTORY OF ESSEX.
[CHAP. 1.
seemed to be in a law that every voter, and every candi- date for office, should be a member of some Congregational church ; i. e., a church, whose principles of government are wholly democratic. Others might reside among them unmolested, but not take the lead, or have any manage- ment in their civil or religious affairs. Some have taken occasion from this to reproach them, as if they were not willing to grant that liberty to others which they claimed for themselves. But they stood in this matter only in. self-defence. They had bought, with a great price, their tract of land in this part of the wide wilderness, and were at a great expense and suffering in settling on it, for the express purpose of enjoying their own religion in their own way. The wilderness was wide enough for all. Oth- ers might choose their portion in it, and set up what wor- ship they pleased, and conduct their own affairs in their own way, on territory, the sovereignty of which they had fully and fairly acquired. But they could not be allowed to reside on the lands of the Puritans, at the hazard of robbing them of their dearest rights and privileges. They could not, therefore, become voters or rulers among them without complying with certain specified conditions : such conditions as our fathers deemed necessary to protect their own liberties. The same, for substance, is true with us at this day, though the conditions of citizenship are not the same, because our circumstances are different. The times of our fathers were those of infancy and weakness. The least tendency to mutiny in the infant colony, placed them in great jeopardy. As on board of a vessel, the safety of the whole depends on the suppression of the first manifestation of a mutinous spirit, and even of the promulgation of principles tending to mutiny, by the severest measures, if necessary ; so in these infant settle- ments of our fathers, with savages in the midst of them, with wild beasts around them, with scarcely any means of defence, and themselves few and far between, the preserva-
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