USA > Massachusetts > Middlesex County > Concord > The history of Concord, Massachusetts > Part 19
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After being thus warmed and refreshed, we were shown to our lodging place, which of course was the guest cham- ber, and being at the house of Mr. Flint, "Commissioner" and a "man of means," it was unusually capacious. Next morning we were astir early, but none too early, for in families that were "well to do" slothfulness was in no wise encouraged, and it was the custom soon after sunrising for the hired men to "go afield." The same punctiliousness regarding the daily religious observances was noticeable here as elsewhere, for Mr. Flint opened the leather cov- ered lids of the well worn Bible and read in true patriarchal style, while the family reverently listened. Breakfast and devotions over, our host led us into his private room, which in modern times would be called an office. On an antique table were a bunch of unsharpened goose quills, a capacious ink horn, some unruled paper of coarse quality, a stick of sealing wax and a seal stamp. For books, there was a work of comments on the English law, "Coke on Littleton," and an old volume of "Notes on the Penta-
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teuch." There was also a pile of letters folded and fast- ened with red sealing wax in readiness to be delivered to the first person going to Boston ; for mail matter was only transmitted by such trustworthy travelers as might chance to come along.
After making a record of the marriage just consummated, Mr. Flint seated himself by the fireside, and in response to our inquiries, defined his duties as an "Assistant" and a magistrate. We found that the functions of the former were highly honorable, and that aforetime they were of a nature legislative, executive, and judiciary ; and there being but a dozen Assistants in the Bay colony, only a few towns could boast of one. So important was the office, at the first, that the Assistants could choose a Governor and Deputy Governor out of their own body, and make laws which later only the General Court could do; also while formerly they had to do with the making of freemen, or in other words, empowering the Colonists to vote, this now could only be done by the Court. But though the office had been stripped of some of its prerogatives, it was one of the most conspicuous in the colony, and the possessor of it was in a position of great influence. In a certain sense the Assistants were still the Councilors of the Commonwealth, assumed the name of Magistrates, and were looked up to with great reverence. They were chosen by the people, and because of traditional associations and still existing authority, they took a first rank in society. As to the work of Mr. Flint as a "Commissioner to end small causes" within the territory to which he was specifically ap- pointed his sphere was more circumscribed. His jurisdic- tion extended over Sudbury and Concord only, and the causes were limited to such as had an issue of not over twenty shillings. But even with these restrictions there was considerable scope for authority, since he might act as judge, juror, and barrister, and also furnish the law, the authorities for the latter being extremely few and meager, as is shown by the following enactment in 1647: "It is
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agreed by the Court, to the end we may have the better light for making and proceeding about laws, that there shall be these books following procured for the use of the Court from time to time : 'Two of Sir Edward Cooke upon Lit- tleton ; two of the books of entryes; two of Sir Edward Cooke upon Magna Charta ; two of the New Terms of the Law; two Dalton's Justice of Peace ; two of Sir Edward Cooke's Reports." Those books furnished the first founda- tion of law not only for the General Court, but for all others.
Curious incidents are related as taking place in these early courts. Sometimes there was interference which at present may appear incredible and it is said that those who inter- meddled most were clergymen. An instance is recorded in an action of alleged slander brought by a minister against a layman. Another minister dining with the judge stated to him that when the case was tried he would like to make a few remarks. When the plaintiff's counsel had opened the case, he began questioning the plaintiff, and the regular proceedings were suspended until the reverend gentleman was through. At the close of the argument for the de- fendant, the accommodating justice gave the clergyman another chance, whereupon he begged the magistrate to dis- miss the action, which he forthwith did.
In another instance one juror, who was standing out against the eleven others, was especially interviewed by the state's advocate and directed as to what to do. When the obstinate man refused to obey, it is said he was starved into compliance, while his fellows received meat and drink; it being remarked that it was better one man should be de- stroyed than eleven.
It is said that verdicts were sometimes rendered to the effect that there was "strong ground for suspicion though falling short of proof"; in such case the Court might sen- tence the defendant for such crime as it appeared probable he had committed, though it had neither been alleged in the complaint nor found by the jury. It is recorded
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that " a man indicted for forgery which could not be proven was reported by the jury to be a cheat and had to stand upon the court-house steps for half an hour with the forged bond and the word 'Cheat' in large letters pinned upon his breast."-Boston Bench and Bar.
Our conversation was interrupted by a call to dinner, which we were glad to hear, for the odor from the kitchen suggested something delicious for us. In the afternoon we set out to attend the funeral at the house by the Darby bridge. As Mr. Flint was to be busy, he sent his servant to accompany us. We rode on horseback, single file, along the way "that goeth to Mr. Flint's," till it merged in the county road, where there was less need of watchfulness for roots and rocks, and where we could ride abreast of each other.
As we walked our horses through the roadway, we had a chat about servants, a subject we had been seeking an op- portunity to converse upon before. The man was intelli- gent and also communicative, so we received some valuable hints which led us to conclude that in colonial times there was but little difference either in intelligence or pedigree between some who worked for hire and some who did not ; moreover, the term servant was sometimes used differently from what it is now, and might designate one who trans- acted business for another as an agent. Some denominated servants in a ship's passenger list might be coming to America to act for parties in England in land matters, or to substitute for them as settlers, thereby enabling the princi- pal to share in land allotments, or in any profit that might accrue from the enterprise.
It is also supposed that some in the passenger lists who were recorded as servants were only ostensibly such for the purpose of disguising themselves, the intent being to evade the unjust immigration laws. As England was at that time agitated by religious and political dissension, there was unusual surveilance over its outgoing population, and per-
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mits were not easily obtained ; hence the occasional resort to strategy.
An apprentice was considered a servant, and as such was obligated to his master for from three to seven years. He might have come from one of the best families, the old homestead not being sufficient to support several sons. A child during non-age was really a servant, unless he "bought his time" of his father, which was often done. Others might be servants for a term of years by agreement.
Over all servants the master was supposed to maintain a quasi control, and the law looked to him as a sponsor for their good conduct, and expected such watchfulness and wholesome tutelage as was reasonable. Among early town records we find the appointment of certain persons "for to take pains for to see into the general families in town, to see whether children and servants are employed in work and educated in the ways of God and in the ground of religion according to the order of the General Court." In later times the term servant was made to include African slaves, some of whom were in Concord.
I will was first will lands will be done. Herelies.the body of JOHN JACK.
Analis of africa who died Harch f Baged about 60 veare Tho born in a land of stars.
It was born free
The he lind in a land of life ris. He lived to store
Till by his honest the whole or lesbons The acquired the sound of sterren. " tin homme him his fredom:
Thị Đạt long before.
Druh the Grand bringt (, un him bisfind annensituation, And st hin cha fouling with kings. The' a 'slave to yiee
He practiced thesevirtues Without which kings ure but slaver
THE GRAVE-STONE OF JOHN JACK.
CHAPTER XXIV.
Funeral at the House of a Cottager - Absence of Floral Tributes and Artificial Adornments - Sad and Simple Services-The Burial - The Procession to the Grave- Talk with the " Saxton" in the Burying Ground - Early Colonial Funeral Customs - The Bearers, Mort Cloth, Mourning Gloves, Scarfs and Rings -Grave Stones and Epitaphs - Start for the Flint Homestead - Evening Adven- ture by the Way -The Strange Surprise - A Pleasant Discovery - Entertained by Nantatucket and Tissansquaw.
B Y the time we had reached the foregoing conclusions we were on the Darby bridge and the house of the poor cottager appeared in sight. It was unpreten- tious with a low roof, and the thatching so drooped below the two diminutive windows as to give it an appear- ance of being even smaller than it was.
There was a porch covered with wild clematis, and on either side of the path leading to it were several clumps of lilies and pinks, while in the open yard were the blighted stalks of several hollyhocks. There was a garden near by in which were still green the leaves of parsnip, cabbages and carrots, but all else had a sterile and withered look quite in keeping with our errand. We knew before we reached the place that the funeral was to be held there, for we saw people standing about as if waiting for something ; and just outside the door stood the grewsome bier, covered with a pall or "buryin' cloth."
As we entered we found the room full of people, for it appeared as if everybody from the South quarter was there,
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besides some from outside. The coffin lay on a table in the narrow entry way, and was made of coarse pine boards, stained dark, giving it a still more sombre appearance.
On the lid was a piece of paper giving the name and age of the deceased, which each one picked up and read as he passed by. Not a flower was in sight - no, not so much as an evergreen spray or myrtle sprig to remind the mourn- ers of a coming resurrection, when fresh with an immortal youth they could again see their dead. Every aspect was of death; and as the cold gray of that autumnal after- noon with its low circling sun brooded over the cottage, it was all in accord with the coffin, the bier and the pall, and the sad company standing about them. Presently it was whispered that the clergyman was coming, and then al! set- tled into that solemn hush which had deference both for the living and the dead, broken only by the deep breath- ing of the sorrowful and the responsive sigh of such as were in sympathy with them.
No Scripture was read at that house of sorrow; no psalm was sung; no prayers were said; and after a few words of consolation, and all present had viewed the re- mains, even little children being raised up to look at them, the bearers placed the coffin upon the bier, covered it with the cloth and lifting it upon their shoulders, started for the burying ground. We joined the procession. The cloth was kept in place by extra bearers, who walked along by the side of the others, spelling them when tired.
After moving with slow and measured step a quarter of a mile or more, they halted and set the body on a mort- stone, while the first set of bearers gave way to the others. In a few moments the procession resumed its mournful march, and after several similar halts it reached the grave yard, just as the slant beams of the fast setting sun were trying to stretch themselves beyond the little meeting house.
The burial was performed in silence ; the cold earth rat- tled harshly upon the coffin; and when all was over and
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the "saxton" had heaped the last turf upon the newly made mound, each turned sorrowfully away as if carrying with him fresh evidence of his own mortality.
We lingered about the spot for a little time, thinking to learn from the old "saxton" something more about old burial rites ; for this faithful public servant, although it was late, appeared in no hurry to get away, but leisurely folded up the burying-cloth and wiped his clumsy spade on the clean grass, as if to have it in good order when he should want it again.
The wind had gone down, and the moon was just creep- ing over the great fields to the easterly, and as there was no dampness on that dry knoll there was no discomfort in remaining, while John, the servant, had a loose shoe fastened at the smithy.
It would not take long to relate what the "saxton" told us, but after he had gone there came up the hill path one of the villagers, who was accounted handy at funerals and in laying out the dead, looking for a glove which some one had lost, and from him we obtained some valuable informa- tion relating to burial customs. And now before leaving this subject we will state some facts concerning these. In Colonial times there were few religious services at funerals ; and but little was said in public, either to mitigate grief or lead to resignation. The coffin was carried to the grave and buried in silence.
Letchford says of it : "All the neighborhood or a goodly company came togther at the tolling of the bell". The minister was commonly present, but only as a silent wit- ness. As was the custom in England, laudatory verses were sometimes fastened to the bier or "herse" as the draped platform upon which the coffin rested was called. The funeral carriage called "hearse" was not then in use.
After the funeral printed verses were often procured, and the slips on which they were printed were decorated with black borders, skull and crossbones, a scythe and hour glass. Occasionally an attempt was made to solemnly pun
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in verse, or play facetiously upon a name in a way that might be almost painful to people of the present time.
As a rule there were two sets of "bearers," one called under bearers, usually young men who carried the bier, and the other old men or relatives, who held the corners of the pall; if the distance was long there was a double number of under bearers. The pall or mort-cloth was usually made of velvet and owned by the town. The bier was often kept in the porch of the meeting house, but in some cases it was left standing over the grave awaiting another funeral.
Sometimes there was no regularly appointed grave dig- ger, but a friend or relative of the deceased might perform this service. In some towns the news of a death was the signal for the cessation of all work. Liquors were univer- sally used, and even if the deceased were a pauper, gallons of rum and a barrel of cider might be called for, but if a person of distinction the expense was correspondingly greater. The custom was to look at the corpse and then pass on to the table and take a drink.
Mourning gloves and scarfs were often given. Some- times there were printed invitations to "follow the corpse," and great care was taken to have all walk in the proper order with respect to relationship and rank. The mourning gloves were usually furnished by the bereaved family, if in well-to-do circumstances, and a minister after a long pastor- ate usually had in store a large number. It is said that one Boston minister received in thirty-two years, two thousand, nine hundred and forty ; being more than he wanted he exchanged them for other goods.
"Mourning rings," engraved with skull and crossbones, were sometimes given to bereaved friends and not infre- quently they were quite costly.
Funerals were forbidden to be held on Sunday. Many of the gravestones came from England, and were of hard black slate from North Wales. The Welsh stones usually had on them a death's head or that of a winged cherub.
Weeping willows and urns came in vogue later, and
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these were afterwards superseded by the hour-glass and clock face or dial.
Capital letters were used in inscriptions till the time of the Revolution.
The epitaphs were sometimes curious to a remarkable degree, as for example :
Here lies cut down like unripe fruit
The wife of Deacon Amos Shute.
There was often the manifestation of great resignation, showing the strong and simple faith of the bereaved friends.
They looked upon death as a liberator from care and toil, and believed it was the entrance to a blessed immor- tality ; hence a bier or burying ground savored of blissful associations : and this accounts for such expressions as that of Judge Samuel Sewall who, after visiting the family tomb and seeing the coffins therein, said : "It was an awful yet pleasing treat :" and of another, that the two days wherein he buried his wife and son were "the best he ever had in the world."
In the twilight we passed from the place of old graves and descended the narrow pathway that led to the "little strate strete", and as we emerged from the shade into the open ground, where it broadened out toward the milldam and town pound, we beheld over the western horizon some of those purple and pink tints which are in striking contrast to the approaching darkness.
Here we thought is a fit illustration of the settler's experiences as relates to such somber scenes as we have just witnessed. He sees light in every condition, however gloomy it may appear to others. That light is his faith.
Through it comes his steadfastness in sorrow, his sub- missiveness in view of death, and his apparent indifference to consolation afforded by external objects.
He needs no flowers at his funerals, hence he has none.
He desires no burnished trimmings to his coffin, neither does he care for any costly paraphernalia to his grave car-
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riage. If he had these he would look above and beyond them all for his comfort.
The primary design of the absence of ceremony on these occasions was to steer clear of everything that savored of popery. The rude and grewsome decorations on the tombstone were designed only to remind the careless passer- by that he too was mortal and must share the common lot.
The darkness deepened. The sluggish mist of the mill pond was settling about us. An east wind suddenly springing up brought from the place of old graves the murmur of pines and the rustle of tree branches. As it was Saturday night an unwonted stillness prevailed about there.
The mill had stopped, the cattle were housed, the roads were vacant, and nothing was seen or heard in the vicinity except the monotonous roaring of the water at the milldam as it fell over the splashboards, and the occasional lone bellowing of an impatient yearling in the town pound.
For an instant we stood motionless, as if to realize where we were, and then it suddenly occurred to us that John only went to get a shoe fastened, and that the time for him to return was passed.
We looked in the directon of the south bridge, if per- chance we could see him, but in vain. We turned towards the Meriam grocery, thinking some errand might have called him there; but it was in vain, for no one appeared, and we were about sitting down on the turnstile that guarded the path to the meeting house, when we heard the measured tread of a horse's hoofs, and it flashed upon us that John had gone home, and was even then jogging along over the planks of Potter's bridge in the comfortable assurance that we had walked along expecting him to over- take us.
It needed but little reflection to understand the serious- ness of the situation. We were left, and John would have to return for us on finding we were not at home on his arrival. Were it not for this our way would have been
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clear, for we had only to repair to Goodman Hey- wood's, or the Buss Tavern or call at the parsonage to be sure of a welcome. But to have John come all the way back was out of the question. Neither would we alarm the family by a night's absence. So springing over a brush fence and breaking off a dry sapling which, the last spring, had been placed there as a part of a "sufficient fence", which the town ordered, we started.
We had not gone far, however, before we wished our- selves back.' The country was strange to us. The path in the dim moonlight was ill defined because of the over- hanging branches, and every now and then we stumbled over a rock or a protruding root. As we got farther from the village the way grew more and more dreary.
The lights faded in the distance, and the last one seen through a break in the woods was the faint glimmer of John Adams' firelight as it shone forth through his open doorway when he entered after the evening cattle fodder- · ing. No sooner had the last light vanished than diffi- culties began to thicken. The shrubbery crowded closer into the pathway, so we had sometimes to brush back the drooping birches and hazel bushes laden with the night damp, and every now and then when wood ways parted from the main road, it was necessary to stoop in order to discover if possible the footprints of John's horse.
As the stillness of the forest became more and more apparent in the deepening gloom, and its dreariness became more intense, the denizens of the woods became more demonstrative.
Several times there came to us the low call of a coon, which was quickly answered by another in a minor key, as if amicable relations were not being maintained by them.
The surly cry of something which by a subsequent description we concluded was a snarling lynx was once heard, and the sound was so new to us that we thought of the spectral wolf, of whose midnight marauding we had heard at the Baker husking party.
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Another startling, though harmless episode, was the fly- ing of a large hoot owl so near us as to fan our faces with his furry wings.
But in spite of these impediments we kept on, intent upon putting as much space as possible between us and the hamlet before John should meet us.
It was not however given us to get far in carrying out our intent, for still other obstacles were to arise, the climax of which was reached when we arrived near the pond.
We had heard legends connected with the Concord ponds and especially this one. How that spirits flitted over it, and even stalked forth upon its lone shores, and that wood nymphs danced about and sometimes allured timid and incautious travelers into the deep woods.
The recalling of these and other stories of a like nature was a poor preparation for passing the pond, which was now but just ahead, and remembering that nothing but a Bible in one's pocket or a silver bullet from a gun barrel would avail anything in case of an assault by the Evil One, we dropped our staff, which we had carried for a defence, and resolved to trust to our heels in case anything should occur out of the usual.
We had reviewed all our legendary lore concerning the pond, and knew by the damp murky atmosphere that it was close at hand, when with startling suddenness there came a weird and melancholy sound as if the very woods uttered a wail. We stopped. Our hair bristled and we listened spellbound.
A moment and it came again, and nearer than before, and we believed that the next it would be in the road.
We had heard forest sounds of every nature before, as we supposed, from the low night call of the little wood bird to the deep booming of the lank bittern, but here was a noise entirely new and incomparable to anything else.
Our first thought was to turn back and quickly put our- selves as far as possible from the locality if not from the source of so dismal and frightful a sound.
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We had never practically believed in ghosts, and as for spirits we had never seen one nor met with one who we supposed had.
Our theories were of the age in which we lived. But we were in another age now, and we had been sitting beside ancient firesides and listening to gruesome tales by those in whose houses were old garrets, and in whose cellars were dark archways, and along whose winding woodland paths the shadows chased each other gloomily, sometimes taking strange shapes, and over whose low gables the clouds low- ered scowlingly. We had been sitting where the wind whistled down old chimney stacks, and where groups in- stinctively drew the settle near to the hearth's edge and listened timidly to the mystical wiseacre as he interpreted strange sounds, until no one cared to go up stairs or down stairs or step outside. In fact we had been living amid a different environment, one in which every predilection to a belief in the supernatural had been thoroughly aroused, and we only needed the present evidence of our senses, together with what we supposed had been an exhaustive observation of all of nature's strange sights and noises, to lead us to abandon old conclusions and accept new ones.
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