HISTORY 
 
 TOWN OF ESSEX, 
 
 FROM 1634 TO 1700 
 
 ROBERT CROWELL, D. D. 
 
 PASTOR 07 THE CONGREGATIONAL CHURCH IN E88KS. 
 
 \'^' 
 
 :w-£L£25s: 
 
 BOSTON: 
 
 C. C. p. MOODY. PRINTER, 52 WASHINGTON ST. 
 1853. 
 
'H 
 
PREFACE 
 
 In the following work, the reader, it is presumed, 
 will readily distinguish between the facts of history, 
 and the drapery, in which some of them occasionally 
 appear. Man is no less a reality, for the dress he may 
 be supposed to have worn, according to the fashion of 
 his day. Nor is it difficult to distinguish between the 
 man, and his apparel. 
 
 If this be borne in mind, the nature of this httle 
 work, as, in part, a history of the town, will not be 
 diminished by the few fancy sketches given of do- 
 mestic, nautical, and military life ; which, however, are 
 still designed to be true to nature, and in accordance 
 with the history of the times. 
 
 For a number of the facts in this history, drawn 
 from ancient records, the author is indebted to the 
 Rev. J. B, Felt's History of Ipswich; a work which 
 cannot be too highly valued as a book of reference on 
 all the important transactions and events connected 
 with this town. This general acknowledgment, the 
 author trusts, will be deemed sufficient, without a 
 more particular reference to that work. 
 
ed 
 50. 
 3. 
 
 Qt 
 
 a 
 d 
 1- 
 
 7 
 
I 
 
 ■;c 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 
 \ 
 
 «' ' 
 
 \ 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 
 \ 
 
 ;; 
 
 \ 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 
 \ 
 
 
 \ 
 
 .M 
 
 A 
 
 N 
 
 II 
 
 i; 
 
 S T 1 
 
 ; i{ 
 
 
HISTORY OF ESSEX. 
 
 The first settlement of this town commenced 
 in 1634. Plymouth began to be settled in 1620. 
 Salem, 1627. Boston, 1630, and Ipswich, 1633. 
 
 Our ancestors originally came from different 
 parts of England. The reasons assigned for 
 leaving their own country, and settling in a 
 wilderness, were, " That the ancient faith and 
 true worship might be found inseparable com- 
 panions in their practice, and that their posterity 
 might be undefiled in religion."^ 
 
 Soon after the commencement of the Kefor- 
 mation in England, 1534, the Protestants were 
 divided into two parties : the one adhering to 
 Luther, the other to Calvin. The former chose 
 to secede from the church of Eome in a very 
 gradual manner, while the latter were desirous of 
 affecting an entire reformation at once. They 
 contended earnestly for the " scripture purity," 
 in worship, as well as in doctrine. This, to- 
 gether with their gravity of deportment and 
 
 * Morse and Parish's Hist, of N. E. 
 
6 
 
 pious conversation, obtained for them the name 
 of Puritans. 
 
 The Lutheran party, however, prevailed, and 
 their sentiments were made the basis of the Es- 
 tabUshed, or National Church. With this church 
 the Puritans continued in fellowship many 
 years, although they constantly lamented its 
 popish forms, and sighed for a thorough refor- 
 mation. 
 
 At length, in 1602, a number of them for- 
 mally separated from the Established Church, 
 and set up for themselves a more pure form of 
 worship. The consequence was, a violent and 
 cruel persecution of them by the bishops and 
 authorities of the land. Not suffered to live in 
 peace where they were, nor permitted to depart, 
 they endured many hardships and trials. 
 
 But in 1607, a considerable number of them 
 succeeded in leaving their country, and removed, 
 some to Amsterdam, and some to Leyden, in 
 Holland, prieved with the corrupt examples 
 around them, and fearing lest their children 
 should be contaminated therewith, they resolved 
 on a removal to the desolate regions of North 
 America. 
 
 Accordingly, in 1620, August 5th, they em- 
 barked at Delft-Haven, near Leyden, and, in 
 November following, arrived on the bleak and 
 
barren shores of Cape Cod. Here they anch- 
 ored for a short time only, and in the following 
 month removed to a place which they called 
 Plymouth. 
 
 The persecution still continuing in England, 
 and, in addition to the former corruptions of the 
 Church, a " Book of Sports on the Holy Sabbath 
 of God " being required to be read by the minis- 
 ters of their respective assemblies, great num- 
 bers of others, eminent for their piety, talents, 
 and learning, embarked for this country. 
 
 In 1627, Capt. John Endicott, with about one 
 hundred persons, arrived at Naumkeag, after- 
 wards Salem. In June, of the following year, 
 they were joined by two hundred more, under 
 the ministry of the Rev. Messrs. Higginson, Skel- 
 ton, and Bright. A part of these soon after 
 removed, and beo-an the settlement of Charles- 
 town. 
 
 In the summer of 1630, about fifteen hundred 
 persons, with Governor Winthrop at their head, 
 arrived at Salem ; whence they proceeded to 
 Charlestown, and soon settled Boston, Water- 
 town, and Roxbury. 
 
 " In March, 1633, J. Winthrop, a son of the 
 Governor, with twelve men, began a plantation 
 at Agawam; which afterwards was called Ips- 
 wich, The next year, a church was gathered, 
 
being the ninth in the colony. In April, the 
 people being destitute of a minister, the Governor 
 travelled on foot from Boston to Ipsivich, spent the 
 Sabbath with them, and exercised by way of 
 prophecy "^ or exhortation. 
 
 In 1634, the Rev. Nathaniel Ward came over 
 from England, and became their first minister. 
 The same year William White and Goodman 
 Bradstreet removed toward Chebacco river, 
 where lands were granted them by the town. 
 Thus commenced the first settlement of this 
 town in 1634. History gives us no account of 
 these two families. The name of William White 
 is first met with in 1635, in the transactions of 
 Ipswich, as one of its inhabitants. So also are 
 several of the name of Bradstreet : but which 
 of them settled in this part of Ipswich, is uncer- 
 tain. The land, which these first two settlers 
 occupied, lay in what is now the north part of 
 Essex. 
 
 The next year, October, 1635, Mr. John Cogs- 
 well had three hundred acres granted him by 
 the town, " in the farther part of Chebacco." 
 This grant was bounded on the west by what is 
 now the main road from Ipswich to Gloucester, 
 and the brook which runs on the east side of 
 
 Hist, of New England. 
 
9 
 
 the old burying ground^ and the creek running 
 to the river y on the south by the river ; on the 
 east by the water^ and on the north by the 
 brook which runs on the north side of the farm 
 now owned by Col. John P. Choate. 
 
 Mr. Cogswell, before his emigration, was a 
 prosperous merchant in London. He sailed for 
 this country from Bristol, England, May 23, 
 1635, in the ship Angel Gabriel. On his passage 
 he was wrecked in a violent storm on the coast 
 of Maine, in Pemaquid Bay. By this catas- 
 trophe, he lost a part of his property; but 
 escaped safely to land with his family, where 
 they lived for a short time in a tent. Leaving 
 his family in the tent, he took passage for Bos- 
 ton, where he procured a vessel denominated a 
 barque, commanded by Captain Gallop, and 
 returned to Pemaquid Bay for his family and 
 goods. He arrived at Ipswich in August, and 
 removed to this place in the following October. 
 His furniture, and other goods, were more than 
 could be stored at one time in the vessel, from 
 Pemaquid to Ipswich. From an inventory taken 
 at his decease, it appears that his furniture, 
 brought from England, consisted of beds, suits 
 of curtains, table-linen, damasks, Turkey car- 
 pets, silver plate, &c. His wife's name was 
 Elizabeth. Their children were born in London ; 
 
10 
 
 one was buried there, and the remaining seven 
 William, John, Edward, Mary, Hannah, Abigail, 
 and Sarah, they brought with them to this place. 
 He had the title of Mr., and his wife Mrs., which 
 were given only to persons of some distinction. 
 
 Their daughter Mary, married Godfrey Armi- 
 tage. Hannah, Charles Waldo, and removed to 
 Chelmsford. Abigail, Thomas Clark ; and Sarah, 
 Simon Tuthill. 
 
 Their first house, which was of necessity built 
 of logs, stood, as tradition says, about thirty 
 rods south-east of the house now occupied by 
 Col. J. P. Choate. 
 
 Other settlers arrived, no doubt, soon after 
 this. But we have no record even of their 
 names, as residents of this part of Ipswich. Mr. 
 Felt, in his History of Ipswich, in general, gives 
 a valuable table of the names of the early set- 
 tlers, with the year in which these names are 
 first met with in the town records ; but which, 
 of course, does not specify in what part of the 
 town they lived. Among the names which are 
 known to have been long prevalent in this place, 
 are the following: 1634, John Perkins. 1635, 
 Robert Andrews, Wm. Goodhue, George Gid- 
 dings. 1638, John Burnham. 1639, Andrew 
 Story. 1643, Thomas Low, 1648, John Choate. 
 The presumption is, that these were among the 
 
11 
 
 early settlers of this southern section of Ipswich, 
 called by the Indians, Chebacco. 
 
 Owing to the difficulty of making bridges in 
 those early days, the roads were very circuitous, 
 avoiding, as much as possible, the crossing of 
 brooks and creeks. The road from Ipswich 
 through this place to Gloucester, came by the 
 house now occupied by Darius Cogswell, at the 
 head of Choate's brook, entered the present 
 Ipswich road, and proceeded as far as the lane, 
 which leads to Col. J. P. Choate's, which it en- 
 tered, and passed on to the river by the house 
 of Adam Boyd ; crossed the river by ferry, pro- 
 ceeded in a southerly direction over the hills, to 
 the head of Clark's Creek, thence by the present 
 dwelling of Elias Andrews, thence to Gloucester 
 West Parish, along by the site of the first meet- 
 ing house to a ferry, which crossed to the up — 
 in town parish, then the first parish in Glouces- 
 ter.^ 
 
 Visit to the First Settlers. 
 
 Leaving for awhile this dry, but necessary 
 detail of facts, yet still keeping close to the lines 
 of truth, let me invite you to go back two hun- 
 dred years, and survey the place as it then 
 
 * For evidence that the first road to Gloucester went by this dwelling cf 
 Elias Andrews, see John Burnham''s deed, near the close of this volume. 
 
n 
 
 was, and look in upon the settlers, and see how 
 they managed in doors and out. The first house 
 which you visit, is that of Mr. Cogswell. View- 
 ing the building as you approach it, you per- 
 ceive it is built wholly of logs, in a square form, 
 much as children build a house of cobs; the 
 under and upper sides of the logs being roughly 
 hewn, that they may lie somewhat contiguous, 
 and not admit too many of the rays of the sun, 
 or too much of the keen air of winter, the 
 ends are notched to fasten them together, and 
 the roof covered with thatch. The whole build- 
 ing, 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 careworn. Her man- 
 ners 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 ap- 
 pearance of the rough logs -, of which the floor^ 
 
18 
 
 as well as the walls of the houseware 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 irre- 
 sistible heat h\ 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 occasionally 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 across the deep. But 
 seats are supplied by the numerous trunks and 
 2 
 
M 
 
 boxes, in whicli they transported their beds, bed- 
 ding, 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 homony is added,- — which 
 Mrs. C. contrives to bake by cautiously approach- 
 ing the glowing fire with her face more than 
 half turned away, to preserve her eyes. Pres- 
 ently the father, with two of his sons, come in 
 from their field labor. Harvesting has com- 
 menced, 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 basons of 
 pewter, and spoons of silver. The broth is poured 
 into an elegant vase, from which each is sup- 
 
15 
 
 plied by a silver ladle. The family gather 
 around, and §tand 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 sew- 
 ing 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 fatherland, where they have left 
 many dear friends, and in the government and 
 prosperity of which, they yet feel a most 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 ar- 
 rived. 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 
 
16 
 
 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 good- 
 ness of God, in prospering their crops of Indian 
 corn and English grain ; preserving their lives 
 and health, amidst so many exposures; and 
 allowing them the inestimable privileges of civil 
 and religious 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 Lon- 
 don fireside had been their comfort and support ; 
 which had cheered them on the stormy ocean, 
 and were now their consolation and joy ; and 
 then Avith much fervency, offers the evening 
 sacrifice of prayer and praise, while all stand 
 round in the silent and solemn attitude of wor- 
 ship. 
 
 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 
 
IT 
 
 too early light of the morning. As you lie upon 
 your pillow,- curiosity prompts you to draw 
 aside the curtain, and take a peep through the 
 shrunk logs ; a beautiful bright star meets your 
 eye with many others less brilliant. The woods 
 resound with the hideous veils of beasts : among- 
 which the howling of a pack of wolves is pre- 
 dominant, and waxes louder and louder, till they 
 seem at length to be close by your bed. With 
 the bleating of the sheep, the bellowing of the 
 cattle, and the barking of the stout mastiffs in 
 the yard, all is bustle, stir, and alarm. The 
 familv is in motion. Mr. Coo:swell 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 
 taking with them one or two poor sheep, partly 
 devoured. 
 
 After a refreshing night's sleep, you rise with 
 the morning sun, and breakfast and family wor- 
 ship being ended, you walk out to survey the 
 wood-land scenery. A dense forest of birch, 
 oak, chesnut, 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 
 2^ 
 
18 
 
 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 plenty of soft 
 brush. You look over on your right into one of 
 the cornfields, leaning as you look, not on sub- 
 stantial stone walls, but on such slender fencing 
 of poles, and brush, as the necessity of the times 
 permits, and wonder that amidst such a multi- 
 tude of burnt stumps, any thing can be made to 
 grow by ploughing, or spading the earth. 
 
 Following an Indian foot-path, through the 
 forest, you come out at a wide plot of ground, 
 where are some dozen wigwams, clustered on the 
 sunny side of a hill, which overlooks 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 wdths 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 making a roof Leaving a hole 
 at the top for the smoke to escape, the fire is 
 kindled in the centre beneath ; around which, 
 
19 
 
 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 w^ig- 
 wam, into which you take a peep, you see the 
 men busily engaged in gambling, hazarding, and 
 often losing every particle of property they pos- 
 sessed. 
 
 In another direction, you see a company of 
 men, women, and children, gathered round a 
 powah. He is performing, to their astonish- 
 ment, 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 make sJcin 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 fiimily, 
 and the neighbors assembled with them. The 
 man of the hut has died, and his burial is to 
 take place before evening. 
 
20 
 
 It is now time to satisfy the cravings of hun- 
 ger, and the women are busy preparing food. 
 You are inquisitive to see how it is done. At a 
 little distance from the wigwam, 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 boil- 
 ing 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 strangers 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 com- 
 mon dish, without knife or fork, or salt, or drink. 
 The women stand round till their lords have 
 finished, and then in a like posture eat up the 
 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 
 
2i 
 
 gliding lip and down the river, for the purpose 
 of clamming and fishing. The river will never 
 be more lively a hundred years hence. As you 
 walk on the bank of the river, you see a contri- 
 vance for catchino; the river fish. It is called a 
 wear, and belongs to John Perkins, Jr. It con- 
 sists 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 
 1000. Richard 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 wath the body. 
 
22 
 
 As you turn away from this solemn scene, 
 deeply affected with 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 obliga- 
 tions to E[im that made you, and who died to 
 redeem you. Returning by the load that you 
 came, you pass a thick swamp, and see just be- 
 fore 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 neigh- 
 bors, who, though few and far between, are treas- 
 ures 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 
 direction, on the road which leads to the centre 
 of Ipswich. The first house which you come to, 
 
23 
 
 is Wm. 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. Cogs- 
 well's. A half mile beyond Wm. 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 Wm. 
 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 comfortable and well furnished. 
 Having spent the day pleasantly 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 apparel 
 to attend public worship in the body of the town. 
 The mother is mounted upon a horse, with the 
 
24 
 
 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 meeting house, a spacious log building, but 
 filled with many a warm heart, and lighted up 
 with many a heavenly countenance. The ser- 
 vices 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 peculiarity 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 
 
25 
 
 time, and all in the assembly, that are able, join 
 with him in. the singing. 
 
 The services being ended at an early hour, the 
 intermission having been very short, you com- 
 mence 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 cheer- 
 fully complies, and gives you the following par- 
 ticulars of his beloved pastor, as he has learned 
 them from an authentic source. 
 
 Mr. Nathaniel Ward was born at Haverhill, 
 England, in 1570. He was educated at one of 
 our principal universities, and after having been 
 for some time a student and practitioner of the 
 law, he travelled in Holland, Germany, Prussia, 
 and Denmark. At the university of Heidelberg, 
 he became acquainted with the celebrated 
 scholar and divine, David Parens, and by con- 
 versing 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 re- 
 turned to England, and was settled in the minis- 
 try at Standon, in Hertfordshire. He was or- 
 dered before the bishop, December 12, 1631, to 
 answer for his non conformity, and refusing to 
 comply with the requisitions of the church, he 
 3 
 
2i 
 
 was at length forbidden to continue in the exer- 
 cise of his clerical office. In April, 1634, he 
 left his nrttive 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 devotions, and with con- 
 versation 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. 
 
 In the mean time, the settlement and im- 
 provement of the place gradually advanced. The 
 persecution of the dissenters in England con- 
 tinuing, great numbers of them embarked for 
 this country. But in 1640 the tide of emigra- 
 tion, in a great measure, ceased to flow. The 
 spirit of liberty, and even of republicanism had 
 begun then to show itself in the British Par- 
 liament, and hope was cherished by the Puritans 
 that they should soon enjoy as much civil and 
 religious freedom there as here. It was esti- 
 
2T 
 
 mated at the time, that up to 1640, about four 
 thousand families, consisting of twenty-one thou- 
 sand souls, had arrived in two hundred and 
 ninety-eight ships. The expense of the removal 
 of these families was estimated at £192,000 
 sterling, wdiich, including what they paid at 
 home, and to the Indians here, was a dear pur- 
 chase of their lands.^ 
 
 Of these emigrants, Ipswich received a pro- 
 portional share, both as to numbers, intelligence, 
 and piety. Johnson, 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 
 wilderness." Cotton Mather says of Ipswich, in 
 1638, " Here was a renowned church, consisting 
 mostly of such illuminated Christians, that their 
 pastors, in the exercise of their ministry, might 
 think that they had to do not so much with dis- 
 ciples as judges." Of Mr. Eogers he says: "His 
 colleague here was the celebrious Norton; and 
 glorious was the church of Ipswich now in two 
 such extraordinary persons, with their different 
 gifts, but united hearts, carrying on the con- 
 cerns of the Lord's kingdom in it." 
 
 \ * History of New England. 
 
^ 
 
 As Mr. Ward had resigned his office by rea- 
 son of ill health, the church elected Mr. Norton 
 as his successor 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, con- 
 tinued 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 consideration of the freemen. It was adopt- 
 
29 
 
 ed 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 emi- 
 nent lawyer before he became a minister, which 
 was one reason, doubtless, why he was appointed 
 on this committee. In 1640, with some men of 
 Newbury, he commenced the settlement of Haver- 
 hill, 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 Shen- 
 field, in Essex County, where he lived eight 
 years, and died aged eighty-three. He pub- 
 lished, after he returned to England, several 
 tracts, and a book, entitled " The Simple Cobbler 
 of Agawam," a satirical and witty performance. 
 
 "The year 1638," history informs us, "was 
 remarkable for a great earthquake, throughout 
 New England. This earthquake, as did that of 
 1627, which was equally violent and extensive, 
 constituted a remarkable era, that was long re- 
 membered, and referred to by the pious inhabi- 
 tants of these infant colonies."^ 
 
 In 1634, a law was passed, that the whole 
 body of freemen meet in Boston, from all the 
 towns, at the General Court of Election, and 
 
 * History of New England. 
 
 3* 
 
30 
 
 choose the magistrates, including Governor, and 
 Lieut. 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 forward their proxies. 
 
 This practice continued for about thirty years, 
 when it went into disuse, and the present usage 
 was in substance adopted. 
 
 Pequot War.— 1637. 
 
 The Pequots inhabited the borders of Con- 
 necticut river, from its mouth to within a few 
 miles of Hartford. They were a fierce, cruel, 
 and warlike tribe. They had murdered several 
 English families in that neighborhood ; and by 
 seeking a union with other savage tribes, threat- 
 ened to destroy the whole of the English colo- 
 nists. This aroused the colonies of Plymouth, 
 Massachusetts, and Connecticut, to imite, and 
 make common cause as^ainst so destructive a foe. 
 Connecticut raised 90, Plymouth 40, and Massa- 
 chusetts 200 troops. The quota of Ipswich, for 
 this army is 23. They are drawn out by lot. The 
 names of all the inhabitants, fit to bear arms, are 
 placed in a box by the proper authorities, and 
 drawn out, one by one, until the number to be 
 drafted is completed. An order is then sent to 
 each of the drafted men, to appear on parade on 
 
31 
 
 sucli a day and hour, prepared to march in pur- 
 suit of the • enemy. The summons is doubtless 
 received with calmness and courage by men, who 
 felt that the peace and security of their wives 
 and children, and the welfare of the country, 
 depended on their subduing this haughty and 
 cruel foe. No little agitation and solicitude, how- 
 ever, is felt by the families in view of their hus- 
 bands, fathers, and brothers, being called to the 
 battle-ground, with the uncertainty of ever see- 
 ing them again. Three of the drafted men 
 were from this part of the town, — Andrew 
 Story, Eobert Cross, and John Burnham. Story 
 probably lived at the Falls. Burnham lived on 
 the farm now owned by Enoch and Caleb Has- 
 kell. His land, as appears from an ancient 
 deed, extended to the head of the creek, then 
 called Clark's Creek, and thence south-easterly, 
 toward Gloucester line, including the farm now 
 owned by Ezra Perkins, and joining upon the 
 school farm. He was the progenitor of the 
 Burnhams in this place. Some of his descend- 
 ants inherited and lived on that tract of land 
 until within thirty years. Others settled at an 
 early period on land now owned by Timothy 
 Andrews, Winthrop Burnham, Daniel Mears, Wm. 
 Low, and others, — making a circuit near the 
 woods, from the south-west corner of the school 
 farm, over Kocky Hill, to Chebacco Pond. 
 
as 
 
 Cross, we suppose, must have lived on a tract 
 of land east of Jolin Burnham's ; probably on 
 the farm now owned by Jonathan Lufkin ; since 
 the town records mention a road, ordered to be 
 laid out in 1657, from his house to the farther 
 (south) side of Chebacco ferry; the same road 
 probably, which is now from Caleb Haskell's, by 
 the East school house, to Jonathan Lufkin's. 
 
 The persons above named, went to the war, 
 and returned in safety ; as we find them men- 
 tioned two years afterwards, among those who 
 were to receive from the town, a grant of land 
 from two to ten acres each, for their services in 
 the Pequot war. 
 
 We will visit Mr. Burnham's, and hear from 
 his own lips, the story which he may be sup- 
 posed to have related to his family and friends, 
 on his return. 
 
 It is a summer evening, and the family and 
 visitors are seated in the yard of the log house, 
 upon logs conveniently arranged, when Mr. B. 
 thus begins : You remember the morning when 
 neighbor Cross and I set out for the army, with 
 our blankets and provisions strapped to our 
 backs, and guns in hand. As we passed neigh- 
 bor Cogswell's, he shook us heartily by the hand, 
 and said it was a righteous cause, and God would 
 prosper us in it. They saw us coming at Good- 
 
83 
 
 man BradstreetV', and the whole family came to 
 bid ns God-speed, and wish us a safe return. 
 
 When we reached the corner of Belcher's lane^ 
 we found Andrew Story, from the Falls, waiting 
 to join us. It was a painful and laborious expe- 
 dition which was before us, attended with many 
 anxieties as to whether we should ever se5 home 
 again or not. But we encouraged one another 
 in the Lord, believing that he had called us to 
 the work of defendins- our lives and liberties 
 against the attacks of a savage foe. We reached 
 Ipswich Common, a little before the time ap- 
 pointed, and found there some of the drafted 
 men of Ipswich, and those from Rowley and 
 Newbury. Yery soon Capt. Dennison, and the 
 rest of our company, came upon the ground. A 
 number of the settlers in the neighborhood, 
 with our beloved pastor, came also to take leave 
 of us. We formed a line, and our captain having 
 exercised us for a while, requested our minister, 
 Mr. Ward, to give us a word of exhortation, and 
 offer a prayer, which he did. We then took up 
 our march for the Pequot country. Having 
 reached Salem Village, (North Danvers,) we were 
 joined by the drafted men from Salem, and as 
 we marched on, several others fell into our 
 ranks. We reached Charlestown late in the 
 evening, and encamped on the common ; it was 
 
34 
 
 the first time that I had ever slept upon the 
 ground, with nothing but the starry heavens for 
 a covering. The next day, passing through 
 Cambridge, we found there the Boston troops, 
 with Capt. Stoughton, who was to be our prin- 
 cipal captain, having the military stores, and 
 camp litensils. We marched nearly thirty miles 
 that day, through thick woods, and across many 
 small streams, halting at noon for our meals, and 
 for rest. The Indians, with their squaws and 
 papooses, came from their hills around, to take a 
 peep at us. They professed to be friendly ; but 
 there was jealousy in their looks, a sort of half 
 war, and half peace. As we went through a 
 manual exercise, and especially when we took 
 aim, they suddenly skulked behind their stout 
 oaks ; but soon ventured ovit again, when they 
 found our guns did not speak. At evening we 
 found an open space on the side of a hill, cleared 
 by the Indians, and there halted for the night. 
 Having kindled our fires, and ate a good supper 
 of porridge, we attended, as usual, upon prayer, 
 offered by one of our captains, and with a trusty 
 watch, and blazing fires, we laid ourselves down, 
 and slept safely and soundly. The next day, we 
 found ourselves getting nearer to hostile ground, 
 and kept a sharp look out, lest we should feel 
 the arrows of the Indians, suddenly flying upon 
 
85 
 
 us from the surrounding woods. We, however, 
 passed along quietly that day. On the following 
 night, the sound of the Indian warhoop, real or 
 imaginary, we could not tell which, together 
 with the tremendous howling of beasts, kept me 
 awake for a while. But through fatigue I fell 
 asleep, and dreamed of being in a terrible battle 
 with the Pequots, whose arrows and tomahawks 
 gave us no small trouble. Their awful yelling 
 getting louder and louder, awaked me, when I 
 discovered one of the watch standing over me, 
 who told me it was time for me to get up, and 
 take my turn in the watch. At length, after a 
 tedious and exhausting march of nearly a week, 
 often through pathless Avoods, carrying our guns, 
 our ammunition, and provisions, we reached the 
 Pequot's country, and learned that Capt. Mason, 
 with 90 Connecticut troops, and 500 friendly 
 Indians, had attacked and captured one of the 
 principal forts of the Pequots, and that the 
 remainder of them, with Sassacus, their princi- 
 pal Sachem, had gone westward, and Capt. 
 Mason had returned to Saybrook. Capt. Stough- 
 ton, in consultation with his officers, concluded to 
 march to Saybrook. At that place, Capt. Mason, 
 being thus joined by the Massachusetts troops, 
 200 strong, had orders to march immediately in 
 pursuit of the enemy. Accordingly, on the 
 
36 
 
 morning of the 25tli of June, we took up our 
 line of march in search of the remnant of this 
 warUke and cruel tribe. During one of our 
 baitings at noon, a Connecticut soldier gave us 
 some account of their attack and capture of one 
 of the principal forts of the Pequots, situated 
 near Groton, in the south-east part of Connecti- 
 cut. " We reached," he said, " a swamp in Groton, 
 and between two large rocks pitched our little 
 camps. We were so near, that our sentinels 
 could hear the enemy in their fort, singing and 
 dancing through the night. About two hours 
 before day, our officers awaked us, and having 
 commended ourselves and our cause to the 
 Almighty, in a prayer by the Chaplain, we pro- 
 ceeded with silence and dispatch for the enemy's 
 fort. We had about 500 Indians with us. When 
 within a few rods of the fort, we halted, and 
 Capt. Mason sent for the Indian chiefs, Uncus 
 and Wequash, and desired them to prepare their 
 men for battle. But the chiefs said their men 
 were afraid, and would not advance any farther. 
 Capt. M. then told them not to go away, but to 
 surround the fort at any distance they pleased, 
 and see with what courage Englishmen could 
 fight. The day was now dawning, and we 
 pressed for the fort. Just as we came upon it, 
 a Pequot sentinel discovered us, and roared out 
 
37 
 
 ^ Owanux ! Owanux !' ' Englishmen ! English- 
 men !' We pressed on, and as the Indians were 
 rallying, poured upon them the contents of our 
 muskets, and rushed into the fort, sword in hand. 
 They gave us a very warm reception. After 
 fighting nearly two hours, in which we killed 
 hundreds of the Indians, and lost some of our 
 own men, it seemed doubtfid how we should 
 come out • when our captain, rushing into a 
 wigwam, and catching up a fire-brand, cried out, 
 ^ We must burn them," and instantly set fire to 
 the mats on top of the wigwam. We followed 
 his example, and soon the whole fort was in 
 flames. We retreated out of the fort, and sur- 
 rounded it. The friendly Indians, (Mohegans 
 and Narragansetts,) formed another circle in our 
 rear. The Pequots were now in a terrible state. 
 Eushing from their burning cells, they were shot, 
 or cut in pieces by the English. Many threw 
 themselves into the flames. It was a grand and 
 awful sight. The violence of the flames, — the 
 reflection of the light, — the clashing and roar of 
 arms, — the shrieks and yells of the savages in 
 the fort, — and the shouting of the friendly In- 
 dians without, exceeded all I had ever witnessed. 
 In less than two hours from the time we entered 
 the fort, 80 wigwams were burned, and upwards 
 4 
 
38 
 
 of 800 Indians destroyed. Our own loss did not 
 exceed 25, killed and wounded." 
 
 This account of our Connecticut friend showed 
 lis what sort of a foe we had to deal with. But 
 from the fact that so many of them had been 
 destroyed, we were encouraged to hope that we 
 should ere long, be wholly delivered from so 
 cruel and ferocious an enemy. It was not long 
 before we came in sight of some of them in 
 small de tat died parties, whom we easily captured 
 or destroyed. But it was some time before we 
 could get any information of the main body of 
 the tribe. After five days' march, we reached 
 Quinnipeak, (New Haven,) where we were told 
 by a friendly Pequot, that Sassacus and his men 
 w^ere in a swamp, a few miles west of us. We 
 pushed forward, and on the next day reached 
 the border of the swamp. But it was too soft 
 and boggy for any to enter but Indians. Our 
 officers thought it best to surround the swamp, 
 so as to be sure that none of them should escape, 
 and annoy them as we could. We found that 
 there was another tribe in the swamp, to the 
 number of 300, that had never murdered any of 
 the English. Them we willingly let out. But 
 the Pequots said they had both shed and drank 
 the blood of Englishmen, and were determined 
 to fight it out. As night came on, we cut through 
 
39 
 
 a part of the swamp, and made the circle roimd 
 the enemy much less, and so completely hemmed 
 them in, that they could not escape, even under 
 the darkness of the night. The enemy finding 
 in the morning that they were wholly shut in, 
 made a violent attempt to break through our 
 lines. But we drove them back, with great 
 slaughter. They next tried to force the lines of 
 the Connecticut troops; but with no better suc- 
 cess. The battle now was close and hot, the 
 enemy seeming determined not to yield but at 
 the loss of their lives. Out of about 600 of 
 them, only 60 escaped. Our loss was 11 killed, 
 and 20 wounded. John Wedgwood and Thomas 
 Sherman, of this town, were among the wounded. 
 We took many of them prisoners ; some of 
 whom were kept by our men as servants, and 
 some were sent to the West Indies, and sold to 
 the planters. This battle finished the Pequot 
 tribe. The few that escaped, or were not in the 
 swamp, were destroyed by the friendly Indians. 
 We took some of them on our return. A party 
 of them hove in sight one day, when Francis 
 Wright, our townsman, gave chase to them, and 
 having no more powder and ball, he brake his 
 gun over them, and brought two of their heads 
 to the camp. The j)risoners told us that more 
 than 2,000 of their tribe had been killed in dif- 
 
40 
 
 ferent battles^ and more than a thousand taken 
 prisoners.^ Our march back was less tedious, 
 as we had less to bring ; and, as we neared home, 
 the way seemed shorter. Ipswich never seemed 
 so pleasant before ; the sight of Chebacco was 
 still pleasanter. We owe many thanks to God 
 for keeping us alive and unharmed in so hard 
 and perilous a campaign, and in giving us such 
 signal success. Upon this, the good man oftered 
 a prayer, abounding in thanksgiving, as well as 
 supplication ; after which all retired. 
 
 Notwithstanding the extermination of this 
 numerous and warlike tribe, the fear and alarm 
 excited by the Indians were not diminished, but 
 gradually increased among the colonists. An or- 
 der is issued by the Governor and Council, re- 
 quiring Ipswich, Rowley, and Newbury, to send 
 40 men, on the Sabbath, Sept. 2d., 1642, to dis- 
 arm Pasconoway, who lived at Merrimack This 
 was caused by the suspicion of a general con- 
 spiracy against the English. 
 
 The pay of the soldiers in these wars, was Is. 
 per day, and the officers 2s. Musket balls and 
 wampum, i. e. strings of shells, black, white, and 
 blue, were the currency of the day. None but 
 freemen could hold offices or vote for rulers. 
 
 * Trumbull's History Indian Wars. 
 
41 
 
 To become a freeman, each person was required 
 to become a member ot some Cons^res-ational 
 church. This was doubtless owing to the pecu- 
 liar situation of our ancestors at that time. They 
 had fiecl 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 perse- 
 cuting 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 remained 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 ascendency over them. Their only security 
 against this danger seemed to be in a law that 
 every voter, and every candidate for office, 
 should be a member of some Congregational 
 church; i. e., a church, whose principles of gov- 
 ernment are wholly democratic. Others might 
 reside among them unmolested, but not take the 
 lead, or have any management in their civil or 
 relidous affairs. Some have taken occasion from 
 this to reproach them, as if they were not wil- 
 ling to grant that liberty to others which they 
 4^ 
 
42 
 
 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. Others might choose their por- 
 tion in it, and set up what worship 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 sub- 
 stance, 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 jeopard}^ 
 As on board of a vessel, the safety of the whole 
 depends on the suppression of the first manifesta- 
 tion of a mutinous spirit, and even of the pro- 
 
43 
 
 mulgation of principles tending to mutiny, by 
 the severest measures, if necessary ; so in these 
 infant settlements 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- 
 tion of their lives, and of their dearest rights 
 and liberties, depended on their promptly putting 
 down all opposition to their civil government, 
 and suppressing all insurrectionary publications. 
 Hence, when Koger Williams, a Welsh emi- 
 grant, appeared in 1631, and refused the oath of 
 fidelity to the government, and taught others to 
 follow his example ; and taught that their patent 
 obtained of King Charles, was invalid ; and that 
 it was wrong to take an oath in a court of jus- 
 tice, or any where else, unless you first knew that 
 the person administering the oath, was a con- 
 verted man, and other things equally absurd 
 and dangerous to the civil peace, he was sent 
 out of their colony, and proceeding to another 
 part of the wilderness, he began the settlement 
 of Rhode Island ; which he might as well have 
 done before attempting to overturn the govern- 
 ment of Massachusetts as afterwards.^ 
 
 * It is a remarkable fuct, that Rhode Island, actuated by the principles of 
 self defence, imitated Massachusetts in that very thing in which Rogi^r Wil- 
 liams had so reproachfully condemned them ; viz, excluding those religion- 
 
44 
 
 And thus, too, when the Quakers appeared in 
 1656, with the declaration that no government 
 was Lawful unless administered by them, " That 
 every other government but their own was a 
 tree to be cut down/'^ and carried out these in- 
 surrectionary principles, by riotous and trea- 
 sonable acts, — they were sent out of the colony. 
 On their returning with the same determination 
 to overturn, if possible, the civil authorities, 
 they were sent out again, with the warning that 
 if they returned the third time, they would be 
 subjected to capital punishment. In their in- 
 fatuation, they came back, and four of them 
 were hung on Boston Common ; just as incor- 
 rigible rebels against civil government would 
 now be treated, — and yet this is called in all our 
 school histories, the persecution of the Qua- 
 kers ! We have alluded to this matter because 
 the reputation of the first settlers of Ipswich, 
 and of this place, then a part of Ipswich, as well 
 as of the colonists in general, is so deeply con- 
 cerned in it. It seems to be time that their 
 
 ists, whom they believed to be dangerous to civil liberty, from the privi- 
 leges of freemen, or the right of choosing, or being chosen, civil officers. 
 And this, too, in violation of the charter which they had just received from 
 England. In March, 1663, they enacted a law, in which they say, " That 
 all men, of competent estates, and of civil conversation. Human Catholics 
 only txctjded, shall be admitted freemen. — Hist, of N. E. 
 
 * History of New England. 
 
45 
 
 children should know, that the memory of their 
 justly venerated sires is not deserving of this 
 foul stigma, which some have endeavored to 
 fasten upon it. 
 
 The first settlers of this town claimed all the 
 land contained in it, having purchased it of Mas- 
 connornet, for £20 sterling. And what they did 
 not divide among themselves, for their imme- 
 diate use and improvement, or grant to others 
 that came to settle among them, they held in 
 common, and were therefore called commoners, 
 and their land thus held, commonage. They 
 appear to have been a body of proprietors, dis- 
 tinct from the town ; fur it was not till 1788, that 
 they gave to the town all their claim to the com- 
 mon land, to pay the town debt. But though 
 distinct from the town as a body, they seem also 
 to have had some connection with it in this mat- 
 ter, and to have been in a measure under its 
 jurisdiction respecting it, for we find in the 
 records of the town, that " None but commoners 
 shall make any use of common land," and the 
 Selectmen are directed to petition the Court for 
 a confirmation of this order. The Court accord- 
 ingly passed a law, " That no dwelling shall have 
 commonage, except those now built, or may be, 
 by consent of conunoners, or towns." 
 
 In 1643, Thomas Low settled in this place, on 
 
46 
 
 land now owned by Capt. Wintlirop Low. His 
 house was about thirty-five rods south of Capt. 
 L's, mansion. 
 
 In 1645, John Choate, the first of the name 
 in this pLace, came from England, and took land 
 near the head of the creek, which divides Essex 
 from Ipswich. His house was a few rods north- 
 east of where John Low's now stands. He had 
 four sons, and a number of daughters. His son 
 Joseph, and grandson Daniel, afterwards owned 
 the same farm. His son John settled on the 
 fiirm now owned by Darius Cogswell. Thomas 
 settled on Hog Island. He was a great farmer, 
 and was called Governor Choate, probably from 
 his having the sole rule and possession of the 
 Island. His son John, born 1C97, built the stone 
 bridge in Ipswich, called Choate's bridge. His 
 daughter Sarah, married Rev. Amos Cheever, of 
 Manchester. 
 
 In 1645, we are told. New England was re- 
 markably prosperous : commerce flourished, the 
 fishery was actively carried on,- and agriculture 
 was successful. 
 
 Another Visit to the Ancient Settlers. 
 
 1649. As a marriage is to take place at Mr. 
 Cogswell's, we will revisit the family, notice the 
 changes that have occurred, and be present at 
 
47 
 
 the joyful solemnity. When there before, thh*- 
 teen years since, they were Uving in their log 
 house, surrounded by a dense forest, with but 
 little land cleared, and that little full of burnt 
 stumps, and with Indian wigwams near at hand, 
 and the wolf, and the wild cat, and the bear, as 
 soon as night set in, filling the forest with their 
 terrific notes. But though the savage man and 
 beast remain, you see many agreeable changes 
 wrought by the persevering hand of industry. 
 The log house has been abandoned for a new 
 framed house, two stories in font, the roof de- 
 scending on the back side nearly to the ground, 
 the chimney in the centre, with two spacious 
 apartments, and their chambers, on each side of 
 it, and a kitchen in their rear, narrow, but nearly 
 as long as the house. The chimney is built of 
 stone, in its natural state, carefully selected, and 
 put together with clay mortar, as high as the 
 garret floor, where it receives a wooden chim- 
 ney, daubed on the inside with clay mortar, and 
 rising some feet above the roof The fire-places 
 in each of the front rooms, are spacious, but in 
 the kitchen of a mammoth size, so that the 
 whole family may be seated in the corners at 
 the ends of blazing logs, four or five feet in 
 length. The boards were sawn by hand. Bricks 
 being laid against the inner partition, and cov- 
 
48 
 
 ered with clay, to exclude the cold, the boards 
 on the out side, called clay-boards, are fastened 
 in an upright posture, with narrow strips cover- 
 ing the interstices. The roof is finished in the 
 same style. The house stands in from the road, 
 and fiices the south, that the sun at high noon, 
 may look full into the windows, and by suitable 
 marks on the window stool, may indicate the 
 hour of the day. The windows are three feet 
 by two, with small diamond-shaped glass, set in 
 lead lines, and opening outwardly, on hinges. 
 As you approach the house from the road, 3^ou 
 pass through a beautiful garden of shrubbery, 
 arranged after the English fashion. The whole 
 establishment, though without the modern clap- 
 boards and shingles, and the ornament of paint, 
 affords a fine contrast to the rough, dark-looking 
 log cabin, still standing just in the rear. You 
 stand at the door, and might enter, by pulling 
 the new nice string which hangs before you, but 
 you choose to knock, that some one may show 
 you in, and conduct you to the family : by whom 
 you are cordially received, and hospitably enter- 
 tained. You are as much pleased with the im- 
 provement of their dwelling internally, as exter- 
 nally. The fine carpets, which could not be laid 
 upon the rough floors of the log house, are now 
 spread upon their new rooms, comparing well 
 
49 
 
 with the stuffed chairs, and other furniture 
 brought with them from England, and saved 
 from the wreck at Pemaquid. 
 
 While the father and sons are busy in the 
 field, the females are more than usually busy in 
 the house, preparing for the expected wedding, 
 and fitting the bride with a suitable wardrobe, 
 and other articles for housekeeping. Having 
 paid your respects to the family within, you 
 walk abroad to see those without, and to witness 
 the various improvements upon the premises. 
 The black stumps in the fields are nearly all 
 gone, and new fields added to the old ones. 
 The woods have grown thinner, and have re- 
 tired farther from the barn, and other out build- 
 ings. The road from Mr. C's. to the ferry, is not 
 near as dark as formerly, and is much improved 
 for travelling. But you do not venture far -, for 
 the law of the day forbids your going beyond a 
 mile from the house alone, or unarmed, through 
 fear of the Indians. The Indians here have the 
 appearance of peace ; but they belong to an in- 
 sidious race ; and need constant watching. See 
 there a spacious log building, with strongly for- 
 tified doors. It has been erected in conformity 
 with a general order from the Court, to be a re- 
 treat for all the families around, in case of an 
 attack from the Indians. A watch is kept every 
 5 
 
50 
 
 night in all the towns, and the discharge of a 
 gun is the signal of alarm. In the conversation 
 of the evening, this matter is often referred to, 
 and the wish that their savage neighbors wonld 
 take lip their wigwams, and leave the town, is 
 heartily responded to by all. But there is little 
 hope of this, and the various ways in which they 
 would defend themselves, or escape from their 
 murderous weapons, is, therefore, freely talked 
 of, especially by the younger members of the 
 family. But there is one defence surer than 
 all others, the protecting arm of a gracious 
 Providence ; and as the good man of the house 
 devoutly renders thanks in the family prayer, 
 for their preservation thus far from so dreadful 
 a foe, and other impending dangers, and suppli- 
 cates a continuance of the same, all unite with 
 deeper solicitude, and more heartfelt devotion 
 than ever. 
 
 The morning light dawns upon the Sabbath. 
 All prepare at an early hour for the Sabbath 
 days' journey to the house of God. Their home 
 they leave under the protection of that Being 
 whose command they obey in not forsaking the 
 assembling of themselves together. As you pro- 
 ceed with the men armed, you are silent, readj^ 
 to catch every sound from the deep w-oods, lest 
 it should betoken an attack from some beast, or 
 savage foe. 
 
51 
 
 The neighbors join you^ as you pass their 
 houses, armed in like manner, and your fears are 
 abated as your numbers increase. On arriving 
 at the house of God, the numerous muskets and 
 pikes, seen in the hands both of old men and 
 young, give signs of the common danger. But 
 faith in God, composes the mind, and prepares 
 the heart for His worship who is the source of 
 all good, and a very present help in trouble. 
 But means are to be used, and, to prevent a sur- 
 prise, sentinels are placed on the outside of the 
 church, while the congregation worship within. 
 
 Mr. Rogers, the pastor, begins the services 
 with a prayer. The teacher, Mr. Norton, then 
 reads and expounds a portion of scripture. A 
 Psalm is then givn out by one of the ruling 
 elders or deacons, which is read and sung line by 
 line. Mr. Rogers preaches in the morning, and 
 Mr. Norton in the afternoon. An hour glass is 
 placed at one end of the elders pew, that the 
 sermon may not be less than an hour in the de- 
 livery. Singing, prayer, and the benediction fol- 
 low the sermon on both parts of the day. Be- 
 fore the close of the afternoon service, the usual 
 Sabbath collection is taken in the following man- 
 ner : the whole congregation, with the magis- 
 trates and chief men at their head, pass up one 
 aisle to the deacons' seat, where, if they give 
 
52 
 
 money, they drop it into a box, if any thing else, 
 they set it clown before the deacon, and then 
 pass down the other aisle to their seats. At the 
 close, notice is given of the Thursday lecture, at 
 eleven o'clock, A. M., which all are expected to 
 attend, as it is a service which the parishioners 
 have requested of their minister, for their own 
 relisrious instruction and edification. As soon as 
 the benediction is pronounced, your attention is 
 suddenly arrested by the loud and measured 
 tones of the town clerk, in the following an- 
 nouncement, " Notice is hereby given that mar- 
 riage is intended between Godfrey Armitage, of 
 Boston, and Mary Cogswell, of Ipswich." As 
 this is the third Sabbath that the parties have 
 been thus publicly cried, only a slight tinge of 
 red now suffuses Mary's face. A justice of the 
 peace must marry them ; such is the law of the 
 colony. But as religious services are proper and 
 important on the ocoasion, the parents invite 
 their pastors to be present on the following 
 Tuesday, at eleven o'clock. 
 
 In conversation wdth the family, as you re- 
 turn, you speak of the precious privileges you 
 have enjoyed ; and of your great satisfaction 
 that the sermons, so faithful and profitable, w^ere 
 each of them over an hour in length. " We 
 could not do with less instruction from the pul- 
 
53 
 
 pit than this/' says Mr. C. We therefore stipu- 
 lated with our pastors at their settlement, that in 
 proportion as they fell short of an hour, in their 
 sermons, a deduction should be made from their 
 yearly support. 
 
 In your walk on Monday through the north 
 end, you notice with pleasure, the increased 
 number of settlers, all occupying framed houses, 
 and all having some cultivated lands nearly free 
 from stumps, and orchards that are beginning, 
 some of them, to yield fruit. Nothing seems to 
 be in the way of their comfort and peace, ex- 
 cept that the bears and wolves commit depreda- 
 tions upon their flocks and herds, both by night 
 and by day, making it unsafe for the children to 
 be out of the sight of their parents. The In- 
 dians, too, frequenting the woods and the roads, 
 and occasionally looking into their houses, though 
 apparently friendly, yet occasion anxiety lest 
 they are plotting some hidden ndschief 
 
 A beautiful bright sun dawns on the nuptial 
 day, accompanied with a balmy refreshing air. 
 The company begin to assemble at an early hour. 
 The best room is thrown open, and soon filled 
 with the invited guests, the near neighbors, and 
 many friends and acquaintances, from the body 
 of the town. The officiating magistrate, Wil- 
 liam Paine, Esq., with Mr. Rogers and Mr. Nor- 
 5* 
 
54 
 
 ton, enter together, and receive the affectionate 
 salutations of the company. The children are 
 at home. William has brought his intended to 
 partake with him the joy of the occasion. Charles 
 Waldo, of Chelmsford, soon to be married to 
 Hannah, is also present. There are two young 
 men from the centre of Ipswich, Clark and Tut- 
 tle, both beginning to be troubled with some 
 heart beatings. Clark has an eye upon Abigail, 
 and Tuttle upon Sarah. Both of whom, in some 
 unaccountable way, have caught the same heart 
 complaint. But whether they caught it of the 
 young men, or the young men of them, remains 
 in uncertainty. One thing is certain, they hardly 
 dare to exchange glances, because they have not 
 yet asked leave, and the law of the colony is 
 severe upon the young man that makes or mani- 
 fests love to a young lady without leave, formally 
 obtained of her parents. 
 
 The bride and bridegroom are seated by them- 
 vselves opposite to the magistrate, with the bride's 
 maid and groom's man in their appropriate places. 
 The time for the ceremony having arrived, Mr. 
 Eogers invokes the blessing of God. The magis- 
 trate then joins the parties in marriage, by their 
 mutual assent to a solemn covenant, and Mr. 
 Norton closes with prayer. As the marriage 
 feast is soon to follow, the intervening time is 
 
55 
 
 spent in pleasant and profitable conversation on 
 the signs of the times, and the news of the day, 
 both at home and abroad. The news from Eng- 
 land of the execution of Charles I., particularly en- 
 grosses their attention. They are all agreed that 
 if ever a murderer deserved death for one act of 
 murder, Charles, who, by his tyranny and cruelty, 
 perpetually harassed and oppressed his subjects, 
 robbing them of their dearest rights and privi- 
 leges, certainly deserved no less. Cromwell, the 
 real leader and master-spirit in this struggle for 
 freedom, they highly extol for his piety and 
 courage, his wisdom and indomitable energy, 
 his patriotism, and love of justice, and devoutly 
 wish, that with the help of God, he may be in- 
 strumental of restoring liberty to England, and 
 establishing permanently a republican form of 
 government. Dinner being ended, and the com- 
 pany retiring, you retire with them. 
 
 The School Farm. 
 1651, Jan. 11th. The town give to the Gram- 
 mar or Latin School, all the " neck beyond Che- 
 bacco river, and the rest of the ground up to 
 Gloucester line." January 16th, this land is 
 leased by the trustees of the donation to John 
 Cogswell, Jr., of Chebacco, and his heirs and 
 assigns forever, for £14 a year. It includes the 
 
56 
 
 land on the south of the river to Gloucester line, 
 as far east as the creek, over which is the lower 
 causeway, and west, as far as the brook near 
 Warren Low's house. At the date of this lease, 
 money, by being very scarce, was of so much 
 value, that £14, ($46, 2-3,) was a sufficient salary 
 for the teacher. But when money, by becom- 
 ing more plenty, fell in value, and would pur- 
 chase comparatively but little, the salary was alto- 
 gether insufficient. Hence, the town in 1720, 
 were about commencing a suit against the hold- 
 ers of the school farm, to compel them to pay 
 the original value of the .:£14. This suit they 
 offered to relinquish, if the occupants of the 
 farm would agree to support the schoolmaster, 
 which would have cost in that day, about $200. 
 But this the occupants were clearly not bound 
 to do by the terms of the lease, as the town no 
 doubt ascertained ; for they abandoned the prose- 
 cution, and remained satisfied with the nominal 
 sum. If it had been stipulated in the lease, 
 that the annual rent should be more or less than 
 £14:, according to the value of money, estimated 
 by the current price of certain specified articles 
 of living, the amount at this day would proba- 
 bly have been more than $200 a year. This, 
 however, would not now support a schoolmaster, 
 as £14: did then, because, besides the difference 
 
67 
 
 in the price of commodities, the style of living, 
 is now full. three times as expensive as it v^as 
 then. 
 
 Death of Mr. Rogers. 
 1655. The funeral of Mr. Rogers, the only 
 minister of the town, after the removal of Mr. 
 Norton to Boston, takes place, and is attended by 
 a great number of people, from all parts of the 
 town, and by many from neighboring towns. 
 He is buried at the expense of the town, and his 
 grave is bedewed with the tears of many who 
 loved him as their pastor, and whose souls had 
 been savingly benefitted by his earnest and faith- 
 ful ministry. The people of Chebacco have 
 much reason to lament his comparatively early 
 departure from life, for often had he been with 
 them in their houses, in scenes of joy and sor- 
 row. He had sat with them by the side of their 
 sick beds, directing them to Jesus, the friend and 
 Saviour of sinners, and comforting their hearts 
 with his promises to the penitent and believing. 
 He had solemnized their marriages, baptized 
 their children, and buried their dead. For about 
 sixteen or seventeen years, they had enjoyed his 
 ministry in the sanctuary of God, on the Sab- 
 bath, and on lecture days. His sermons were of 
 a more than ordinary character, and were lis- 
 tened to by large and attentive audiences, who 
 
58 
 
 could not fail, under such preaching, to have 
 their senses exercised to discern both good and 
 evil. The following account of him is taken 
 from Cotton Mather's work on New England, en- 
 titled Magnalia Christi Americana, published 
 1702. I have abridged Mather's account to save 
 room ; yet, as it is in his own words, it may serve 
 both to instruct us in respect to Mr. Rogers, and 
 as a specimen of Mather's style of writing. 
 Mather was minister of the North church, Boston. 
 " Nathaniel Rogers was the second son of that 
 famous man, Mr. John Rogers, of Dedham, (Eng- 
 land,) and born while his father was minister of 
 Haveril.^ about the year 1598. He was educated 
 at the Grammar (Latin) school in Dedham, till 
 he was near fourteen years old, and then he was 
 admitted into Emanuel College, in Camhidge. 
 There he became a remarkable and incompara- 
 ble proficient in all academick learning. His usual 
 manner was to be an early and exact student, by 
 which means, he was quickly laid in with a good 
 stock of learning, but into all his other learning 
 there was that glory added, the fear of God, for 
 the crown of all ; the principles whereof were 
 instilled into his young soul with the counsels of 
 his pious mother, while he sat on her knees, as 
 well as his holg father, when he came to riper 
 years. From his very childhood, he was exem- 
 
59 
 
 plary for the success which God gave luito the 
 cares of his- parents to principle him with such 
 things, as rendered him tvise unto salvation. 
 
 " The first specimen that he gave of his minis- 
 terial abilities, was as a chaplain in the house of a 
 person of quality ; whence, after a year or two, 
 ih.\\s fledged, he adventured a flight into a great 
 congregation, at Bocking, in Essex, under Dr. 
 Barkham ; not without the wonder of many, 
 how the son of the most noted Furiian in Eng- 
 land, should come to be employed under an 
 Episcopal Doctor, so gracious with Bishop Laud ; 
 but this Dr. BarJcham was 2i good preacher himself, 
 and he was also willing to gratify his parish- 
 ioners, who were, many of them, religiously dis- 
 posed ; hence, though the Dr. would not spare 
 a tenth part of his revenues, which, from his 
 divei^s livings, amounted unto near a thousand 
 pounds a year, ($4,000,) to one who did above 
 three quarters of his work, yet he was otherwise 
 very courteous and civil to our 3£r, Rogers, 
 Whom his parishioners handsomely maintained 
 out of their own purses, and showed what a 
 room he had in their hearts, by their doin§^ so. 
 
 " But the Doctor of BocJdng, being present at 
 the funeral of some eminent person there, he 
 observed that 3fr. Rogers forbore to put on the 
 surplice, in the exercise of his ministry on that 
 
60 
 
 occasion ; which inspired him with as much dis- 
 gust against his curate, as his curate had against 
 the surplice itself. Whereupon, though the Doc- 
 tor were so much a gentleman, as to put no pub- 
 lic affront upon Mr. Eogers, yet he gave him his 
 private advice to provide for himself in some 
 other place. 
 
 See the providence of our Lord ! about that 
 very time, Assingto7i, in Suff^olk, being void by the 
 death of the former incumbent, the patron there- 
 of was willing to bestow it upon the son of his 
 honored friend in Dcdham ; whither he was re- 
 moved after that Boching had, for four or five 
 years, enjoyed his labors. The inhabitants of 
 Bromly, near Colchester, were at the same time 
 extremely discontented at their missing of him. 
 However, see again the providence of our Lord ! 
 the Bishop of Nonvich let him live quietly five 
 years at Assington, which the Bishop of London 
 would not have done at Bromlg. This was the 
 charge nowbetrusted with our Rogers ; concern- 
 ing whom, I find an eminent person publishing 
 unto the world this account: Mr. ' Nathaniel 
 Eogers, a man so able and so Judicious, in soul work, that 
 I would have hetrusted mt/ soul with him, as soon as 
 with any man in the church of Christ, 
 
 " Here his ministry was both highly respected 
 and gvedXly prospered, among persons of all quail- 
 
61 
 
 ties, not only in the town itself, but in the neigh- 
 borhood. He was a lively, curious, florid 'preacher ; 
 and by his Jioli/ living, he so farther preached, as 
 to give much life to all his other preaching. He 
 had usually every Lord's day, a greater number 
 of hearers than could crowd into the church ; 
 and of those many ignorant ones were instructed, 
 many iingoclly ones were converted, and many 
 sorrowful ones were comforted. Though he had 
 not his father's notable voice, yet he had several 
 ministerial qualifications, as was judged, beyond 
 his father ; and he was one prepared unto every good 
 tvorJi, though he was also exercised with hodilg 
 infirniities, which his labors brought upon him. 
 
 But a course was taken to extinguish these 
 lights, as fast as any notice could be taken of 
 them. It was the resolution of the Hierarchy, 
 that the ministers, who would not conform to 
 their impositions, must be silenced all over the 
 kingdom. Our Mr. Rogers, perceiving the ap- 
 proach of the storm towards himself, did, out of 
 a particular circumspection in his own temper, 
 choose rather to prevent, than to receive the 
 censures of the ecclesiastical courts, and there- 
 fore he resigned his place to the patron, that so, 
 some godly and learned conformist might be in- 
 vested with it ; nevertheless, not being free in 
 his conscience wholly to lay down the exercise 
 6 
 
62 
 
 of his ministry, he designed a removal into New 
 England. He had married the daughter of one 
 Mr. Crane, of Cogeshal, a gentleman of very con- 
 siderable estate, who would gladly have men- 
 tioned this, his worthy son-in-law, with his family, 
 if he would have tarried in England, but observ- 
 ing the strong inclination of his mind unto a 
 Netv English voyage, he durst not oppose it. 
 Now, though Mr. Rogers were a person very un- 
 able to bear the hardships of travel, yet the im- 
 pression which God had made upon his heart, 
 like what he then made upon the hearts of 
 many hundreds more, perhaps as w^eakly and 
 sickly as he, carried him through the enterprise 
 with an unwearied resolidion ; which resolution 
 was tried unto the utmost. For, whereas the 
 voyage from Gravesend unto Boston, uses to be 
 dispatched in about nine or ten weeks, the ships 
 which came with Mr. Rogers, were fully iiveniy- 
 four tueeJcs in the voyage. After they had come 
 two-thirds of their way, having reached the 
 length of New Eoundland, their luants were so 
 multiplied, and their winds were so contrary, that 
 they entered into a serious delate, about return- 
 ing back to England ; but upon their setting 
 apart a day of solemn fasting and prayer, the 
 weather cleared up ; and in a little time, they 
 arrived at their desired port, viz., about the mid- 
 dle of November y in the year 1636. 
 
m 
 
 Mr. Roger's first invitation was to Dorchester ; 
 but the number of good men who came hither, 
 desirous of a settlement under his ministry, could 
 not be there accommodated ; which caused him 
 to accept rather of an invitation to Ipsivich ; 
 where he was ordained pastor of the church, on 
 Fehniary 20, 1638, (1639, N. S.) At his ordina- 
 tion, preaching on 2 Cor., 2, Y^^—ivho is sufficietxt 
 for these things ; a sermon so copious, judicious, 
 accurate, and elegant, that it struck the hearers 
 with admiration. His colleague here was the 
 celebrious Norton, (settled two years before.) If 
 Norton were excellent, there are persons of good 
 judgment, who think themselves bound m justice 
 to say, that Rogers came not short of Norton, in 
 his greatest excellencies. 
 
 While he lived in Ipsivich, he went over the 
 five last chapters of Ephesians, in his ministry ; 
 the twelfth to the Hebrews, the doctrine of self- 
 denial, and tvalking tuith God ; and the fifty -third 
 chapter of Isaiah, to the great satisfaction of all 
 his hearers, with many other subjects more occa- 
 sionally handled. It was counted pit}^ that the 
 public should not enjoy some of his discourses, 
 
 in all which, he was k rwv sa^vrwv aXXa Twv axPJi^Hv-rwv* 
 
 * Not of those who belch out their words, but who express thera with the 
 greatest accuracy. 
 
u 
 
 But his physicians told him that if he went upon 
 transcribing any of his composure, his disposition 
 to accuracy, would so deeply engage him in it, as 
 to endanger his life ; wherefore, he left few monu- 
 ments of his ministry, but in the hearts of his 
 people, which were many. It belongs to his 
 character that he feared God above many, and 
 tvaUced ivith God at a great rate of holiness, though 
 such was his reservedness, that none but his inti- 
 mate friends knew the loarticiilars of his walk, yet 
 such as were indeed intimate with him, could 
 observe, that he was much in fasting and prayer, 
 and meditation, and those duties wherein the poiv- 
 er of godliness is most maintained ; and as the 
 graces of a christian, so the gifts of a minister, in 
 him, were beyond the ordinary attainments of 
 good men, yea, I shall do a wrong unto his name, 
 if I do not freely say that he was one of the 
 greatest men that ever set foot on the American 
 strand. 
 
 He was much troubled with spitting of hhod. 
 He was also subject unto the Flatus Hypocon- 
 driacus, even from his youth, wherewith, when he 
 was first surprised, he thought himself a dying 
 man. While he was under the early discourage- 
 ments of this distemper, the famous Mr. Cotton, 
 thus wrote to him in a letter, dated March 9th, 
 1631. ^I bless the Lord with you, who sup- 
 
65 
 
 porteth your feeble lody^ to do him service, and 
 meanwhile perfecteth the power of his grace in 
 your zveahiess. You know who said it, iinmor- 
 tified strength iwBteth hard to hell. But sanctified 
 weakness creepeth fast to heaven. Let not your 
 spirit faint, though your hod^/ do. Your soid is 
 precious in God's sight ; your hairs are mtmbered, 
 and the number and measure of your fainting 
 fits, and wearisome nights, are weighed and 
 limited by his hand, who hath given to you his 
 Lord Jesus Christ, to take upon hiin your infirmities^ 
 and hear your sicknesses.'' Nor was it this distem- 
 per which at last ended his days, but it was a 
 flood of rheum, occasioned partly by his disuse of 
 tobacco,^ whereto he had formerly accustomed 
 himself, but now left it off, because he found 
 himself in dano;er of beins; enslaved unto it, which 
 he thought a thing below a christian, and much 
 more a minister. He had often been seized with 
 fits of sickness in the course of his life ; and his 
 last seemed no more threatning than the former, 
 till the last morning of it. An epidemic sort of 
 cough had arrested most of the families in the 
 country, which proved most particularly fatal to 
 
 * It -was doubtless a mistake of Mather, in supposing that the disuse of 
 tobacco had anything to do with hastening his death. But even if it had, 
 does Eogers now regret that he discontinued the use of that noxious weed 
 before he left the world ? 
 
 6* 
 
66 
 
 bodies, before laboring with rheumatic indisposi- 
 tions. T/is he felt ; but in the whole time of 
 his illness, he was full of heavenly discourse and 
 counsel, to those who came to visit him. One of 
 the last things he did, was to bless the three chil- 
 dren of his only daughter, who had purchased 
 his blessing by her singular dutifulness unto him. 
 It is a notable passage in the Talmnds, that the 
 inhabitants of Tsippor. expressing an extreme 
 unwillingness to have the death of K. Judah, 
 (whom they surnamed The Holij^ reported unto 
 them, he that brought the report, thus expressed 
 himself Holy men and angels took hold of the 
 tables of the covenant, and the hand of the angels pre- 
 vailed, so that they took awuy the tables. And the 
 people then perceived the meaning of this para- 
 boliser to be, that holy men would fain have de- 
 tained R. Jiidah still in this world, but the angels 
 took him away. Reader, I am as loth to tell the 
 death of Rogers, the Holy ; and the inhabitants 
 of Ipswich were as loth to hear it, but I must 
 say the hand of the angel prevailed on July 3d, 
 1655, in the afternoon. When he had uttered 
 those for his last words, my times are in thy hands. 
 His age was 57." 
 
 Such was the character and labors of him 
 on whose ministry our ancestors in this place at- 
 tended, and with whom some of them had 
 
67 
 
 come from England. If obedient to that gospel 
 which he preached, they are now rejoicing with 
 him among the redeemed in glory. 
 
 165G. This year is memorable for the build- 
 ing of Hatfield's bridge. On the following year, 
 " A road is laid out," says the record, " to Good- 
 wife Hatfield's bridge, through Mr. Roger's ox 
 pasture.'* This is the present road from Haf- 
 field's bridge, to the corner of the first road 
 which came round the head of Choate's brook. 
 A road must have been opened at the same time 
 on this side, over the hill to the bridge. Our 
 fathers, in beginning their homes in a wilderness, 
 had so much to do, and so little to do with, that 
 they found it easier to go round the creeks than 
 to make bridg-es over them. Yet as soon as 
 their means allowed, they were ready to make 
 improvements in roads and bridges, as well as in 
 other things, pertaining to the conveniences and 
 comforts of life. 
 
 Court House and Jail. 
 
 As early as 1636, a court was held in Ipswich 
 once a quarter, for the trial of such ofiences as 
 are not capital. This court answered to our 
 modern court of Common Pleas. The Supreme 
 Court did not begin to sit in this town till 1693. 
 A jail was built here in 1652. It was then the 
 
68 
 
 second in the colony. 1656, a House of Cor- 
 rection is in operation. It seems to have been 
 connected with the jail. The inmates were re- 
 quired to work, as the Selectmen are directed to 
 supply them with flax and hemp. 
 
 The trials in the courts, it may be presumed, 
 were conducted, for the most part, in the same 
 manner as they are at this day. The jurors were 
 then, as now, taken from the different towns of 
 the county, and were the supreme judges in 
 every case between man and man, and between 
 man and his majesty's province. The justices 
 or judges upon the bench were to decide upon 
 all points of law, but the jury upon matters of 
 fact, involving questions of property, or of guilt 
 or innocenee. This is the great bulwark of 
 English liberty. All are equally free and safe, 
 where all have the privilege of being tried by 
 their peers. But let us go into one of the Ips- 
 wich courts, held in olden time. It is in the 
 month of May, 1663. As we ascend the hill, the 
 meeting house, a handsome edifice, is on our 
 left, a neat but smaller building on our right, is 
 the court house. A little north of the meeting 
 house, we see the jail and house of correction, a 
 dark, comfortless looking building, with its win- 
 dows guarded by iron bars. Between the church 
 and the prison, on the same level spot, stands 
 
69 
 
 the whipping post, tall and stout, with its iron 
 hook, to fasten and draw up the culprit, while 
 the lash is applied to the naked back. And 
 near the post, stands the stocks. The pillory 
 was placed there only when occasion required. 
 We enter the court room, while the church bell 
 is sending forth its peculiar peals, which all 
 understand to be an invitation to all concerned, 
 to hasten to court. Standing in the crowd, just 
 within, we hear the authoritative voice of the 
 Sheriff. Make way for the Court ! make way 
 for the Court ! and begin to fear, as we can 
 move but little, that we shall be found guilty 
 without an indictment. An opening is made, 
 and his Honor, the Court, passes through, and 
 takes his seat on an elevated bench, next to the 
 wall. The counsellors at law sit before him in 
 an enclosure, formed by a railing, called the bar. 
 On the right and left of the gentlemen of the 
 bar, are seated the jurymen. A stand or plat- 
 form for the witnesses, is near the bar, and just 
 without it, and facing the judge, is the box for 
 criminals. As it is the first day of the court's 
 sitting, Mr. Cobbet, one of the ministers of the 
 town, offers an appropriate prayer. The voice 
 of the sheriff is then heard in strong and meas- 
 ured accents, Oyes, Oyes, Oyes, all persons who 
 have any thing to do before the Quarterly Court, 
 
70 
 
 may now draw near, and give their attendance, 
 and they shall be heard. God save the king. 
 
 A prisoner is now brought in, and placed in 
 the criminal's box for trial, a woman from 
 Newbury, charged with the crime of perjury. 
 The jury for the trial of this case are em- 
 pannelled, and sworn by the clerk. With up- 
 lifted hands they assent to the oath : 
 
 You solemnly swear, that you will well and 
 truly try the issue between his majesty's province, 
 and the prisoner at the bar, so help you God. 
 
 As you listen to the closing words, and ponder 
 upon their meaning, you are satisfied that it is a 
 solemn appeal to God for the truth of what is 
 said, with a consent to be saved or destroyed by 
 Him, according as you. speak truly or falsely. 
 This is the highest obligation which man can 
 impose upon his fellow man, to tell the truth, 
 the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. An 
 oath for confirmation is an end of all strife. It is 
 as far as man can go to terminate controversies. 
 
 The criminal at the bar, in a case in which 
 she was a witness, had, under oath, testified 
 falsely, and thus committed the crime of per- 
 jury. The clerk reads the indictment, which 
 sets forth with great particularity, the crime 
 with which she is charged. This particularity, 
 in its abundance of words, in almost every va- 
 
71 
 
 riety of form, seems to you tedious and unneces- 
 sary. But it is the result of much experience, 
 and is, every word of it, necessary to secure both 
 the rights of the prisoner, and of the commu- 
 nity at large. After reading the indictment, the 
 clerk addressers the prisoner, Leah Sapphira, 
 (which we may suppose to be her name.) What 
 say you to this indictment, are you guilty there- 
 of, or not guilty ? Not guilty, is the reply. He 
 then turns to the jury. Gentlemen of the jur}^, 
 the prisoner pleads not guilty, and for trial, puts 
 herself upon her country, which country you 
 are. If she is guilty, you will say so, and if not 
 guilty, you will say so, and no more. Gentlemen 
 of the jury, hearken to your evidence. 
 
 The attorney for the government opens the case 
 by stating particularly what he intends to do, and 
 to prove, and then proceeds to call his witnesses. 
 They testify, under oath, what they know of the 
 matter ; all which goes to prove her guilt. They 
 are cross examined by the prisoner's counsel, 
 that he may draw something from them, if he 
 can, which will go to refute their own testimony. 
 He then brings forward his rebutting testimony ; 
 calls witnesses to prove the general goodness of 
 her character, and to establish the truth of the 
 facts, to which she testified in the case in which 
 she is said to have committed perjury, and goes 
 
72 
 
 on to show, by a labored argument, that the evi- 
 dence against his client is altogether insufficient 
 to prove her guilt, and appeals to the good feel- 
 ings of the jury, to their love of humanity, and 
 justice, and to their honest perception of the 
 failure of the government to prove the guilt of 
 his client, that thus he may persuade them to 
 bring in a verdict which shall relieve her from 
 this state of disgrace and distress. Ilis majesty's 
 counsel then addresses the jury : dwelling upon 
 the facts in the case, and showing, as we may 
 suppose, that she testified falsely in a point 
 material to the issue of the case, by swearing to 
 that, which, as all the witnesses were agreed, 
 never took place, and could not, from the nature 
 of things, have existed. Her testimony, there- 
 fore, was wilfully false and malicious. 
 
 The pleas on both sides, are able and eloquent. 
 The jury listen attentively, but with a conserva- 
 tive countenance. The judge states the case, 
 recapitulates the evidence for and against, and 
 charges the jury that if they are satisfied that 
 the evidence against her is full and conclu- 
 sive, beyond all reasonable doubt, they must 
 return a verdict of guilty. But if they have 
 reasonable doubts in the case, they are bound to 
 let the prisoner have the benefit of them, and 
 bring in their verdict accordingly. The prisoner 
 
73 
 
 hears this with a countenance marked with 
 anxiety, and deep interest. The jury retire, but 
 soon return to their seats. Tlie clerk then says, 
 Mr. Foreman, are you agreed in a verdict ? We 
 are agreed, is the response. What say your, Mr. 
 Foreman, is the prisoner at the bar guilty, or not 
 guilty ? Guilty ! says the foreman. Gentlemen 
 of the jury, hearken to your verdict. The jury, 
 upon their oath, do say that the prisoner at the 
 bar is guilty. So you say Mr. Foreman, so say 
 you all, gentlemen of the jury ? The jury bow 
 assent. 
 
 The judge prefaces the sentence with a few 
 pertinent remarks, on the heinousness of the 
 crime of perjury, as striking a deadly blow at 
 the very existence of society, by destroying all 
 confidence in testimony, and as full of impiety 
 and profaneness, tending to bring down upon 
 the guilty head, the wrath and curse of the 
 Almighty. As this, however, is her first offence, 
 he imposes on her the lightest penalty of the 
 law ; which is, that she stand at the meeting 
 house door, in the town of Newbury, next lec- 
 ture day, from the ringing of the first bell, till 
 the minister be ready to begin prayer, with a 
 paper on her head, having on it, written in 
 large capital letters, FOR TAKING A FALSE 
 OATHE. She is taken to prison, to be held in 
 7 
 
74 
 
 custody, till the sentence is executed. If you 
 are disposed to think the penalty too light for 
 the crime, you will remember that the culprit is 
 a woman, perhaps of some standing and char- 
 acter, and the mortification must be extreme, to 
 stand as if in a pillory, and be gazed at, for an 
 hour, by all her neighbors and town's people, as 
 a false, perjured woman. 
 
 Manufacturers. 
 
 Among the manufacturers in town, in the pro- 
 gress of this century, are mentioned, ropemakers, 
 coopers, gunsmiths, wheelwrights, carpenters, 
 glovers, tailors, soapmakers, malsters, ship build- 
 ers, tanne^rs, curriers. No shoemakers are men- 
 tioned ; probably, for the reason that the inhabi- 
 tants made their own shoes, principally, if not 
 wholly. At a much later period, a man of years 
 remembers that there were travelling workmen, 
 who cut and fitted shoes for families, and occa- 
 sionally finished them. 
 
 The first saw mill erected in Ipswich; was on 
 Chebacco river, 1656. The conditions of the 
 grant were, that there be liberty for cutting 
 timber, (on commoners' wood land,) provided 
 none be cut within 3 1-2 miles of the meeting 
 house, and the town have 1-15 of what is sawed, 
 and no inhabitant be charged more than 4 per 
 cent. 
 
75 
 
 Nine years after, Jonathan Wade is allowed to 
 have one an the same river. 
 
 1667. Thomas Burnham is permitted to erect 
 one near the falls ; but not so as to injure Mr. 
 Wade's. Four years after, another is erected by 
 William Story. 
 
 1682. Jonathan Wade is allowed to set up 
 one at the falls. 
 
 1687. John, son of Thomas Burnham, re- 
 moves his mill so as to be near George Story's. 
 No saw mill is mentioned during this century, 
 in any other part of the town : and no grist 
 mill is erected here until 1693, when John Burn- 
 ham, Jr. had leave to erect one at " the launch- 
 ing place." This was, doubtless, " the launching 
 place " below the falls, to which the new road 
 leads, as the remains of the dam are still to be 
 seen there. Why it was that during this cen- 
 tury all the sawing was done here, and all the 
 grinding on Ipswich river, we have no means of 
 learning. That the saw mills were on this river, 
 might have been the reason why the first vessel, 
 or fishing boat, was built here. Or, what is more 
 probable, the building of. vessels here, was the 
 reason why so many saw mills were erected. 
 
 1668. Twelve years after the first saw mill 
 was erected, the town grant " One acre of ground, 
 near Mr. Cogswell's farm, to the inhabitants of 
 
76 
 
 Ipswich, for a yard to build vessels, for the use 
 of the inhabitants, and to employ workmen for 
 that end." 
 
 This is pretty conclusive evidence, that our 
 ancestors here had already begun to build ves- 
 sels, as it seems altogether improbable, that a 
 ship yard would have been granted by the town, 
 if it had not been asked for, and equally im- 
 probable that it would have been petitioned for, 
 if the building of vessels was wholly unknow^n 
 here. This acre for a ship yard, was near the 
 present bridge, Mr. Cogswell's farm came up 
 to the main road, on the north side of Spring 
 street ; but on the south side only as far as the 
 brook, back of the first burying ground, and to 
 the creek, into which this brook runs. The ship 
 yard, then, to be near Mr. Cogswell's farm, must 
 have extended from some point near the mouth 
 of this creek, south-westerly on the bank of the 
 river, probably 20 rods, and eight rods back from 
 the river. As it was then partly covered with 
 timber, and bounded by marked trees, the 
 bounds, through want of care, became oblit- 
 erated. 
 
 First Chebacco Boat. 
 Tradition says, that the first Chebacco boat 
 was built by a Burnham, in the garret of an 
 ancient house, which stood where is now the 
 
77 
 
 house of Daniel Mears, south-west corner of the 
 old and new road to Manchester ; and that the 
 garret window had to be cut away before they 
 could launch her. An aged man, Parker Burn- 
 ham, says that when a child^ about 1770, he dis- 
 tinctly remembers hearing his grandfather, then 
 very aged, relate this fact to his father. This 
 grand-parent was born about 1690. He had 
 probably himself received the fact from parental 
 or ancestral lips. Another part of the tradi- 
 tional account of this first boat, derived from 
 another source, is, that the summer after she 
 was built, a man and a boy, Burnhams, of course, 
 as she was built by that name, went in her to 
 Damaris Cove, about 120 miles, for a fare of 
 fish. If we are disposed to doubt whether both 
 of these fiicts can be true, we must wait till we 
 better know the structure of the house, and 
 the size of its garret, and of the boat, before we 
 can safely set aside the tradition of the fathers. 
 It is certain there was a first Chebacco boat 
 built for fishing, and a Jirst trip of this first 
 boat. And we may as well take the ancient 
 tradition concerning the matter, as any modern 
 suppositions. 
 
 First Fishing Yoyage. 
 As the season is pleasant, and the trip a novel 
 one, we will accompany this enterprising skipper, 
 
n 
 
 and his youthful companion^ down the eastern 
 shore, and see how they succeed in taking a fare 
 of fish. It is early in June. The storms of 
 spring have passed away, and summer's days 
 begin to shed their balmy influence on land and 
 water. As our new vessel is to sail very early in 
 the morning, if the wind is fair, she is taken 
 down the river, as far as the horse bridge, the 
 night before. The morning comes, and the sum- 
 mer breeze is from the west. We must be at 
 the bridge at early dawn, to go on board with 
 the captain and his boy. The ship is small, and 
 will carry bi:t two or three tons. But as our 
 spirits are light, we shall not much trouble her 
 with our weight, so we may take our stand upon 
 the forecastle, nnperceived by either of the 
 crew. Our vessel is of a pecuUar shape, sharp 
 at both ends, though not designed to sail either 
 way, as a superficial observer might think. She 
 is pink stern, and possesses a good rudder, the 
 tiller of which is grasped by our skipper, as soon 
 as all sails are set, and all hands on board, and 
 she is loosed from her fastening. We are soon 
 under waj^, with a stiff breeze, and rapidly pass 
 the objects on shore, among which are here and 
 there groups of half naked Indians, old and 
 young, whose curiosity is excited at the sight of 
 our boat, with her wide-spread canvass. The 
 
79 
 
 islands appear in all their beauty, covered with 
 verdure, ajid bearing lofty trees, except here 
 and there the clearings made by the natives. 
 
 We cross the bar, and as we launch out into the 
 bay, the sun is just lifting his broad and ruddy 
 face out of the ocean, shedding his glorious 
 beams over the vast expanse of waters, and tip- 
 ping the hill tops, and summits of the woods, 
 with his yellow rays. As we come upon the 
 swelling sea, our little bark feels the heaving 
 influence, and begins to roll and pitch, with 
 
80 
 
 some degree of violence ; yet she bears herself 
 nobly, as she rides over the waves. Some little 
 fear might trouble the minds of our skipper 
 and his boy, as they are somewhat green in the 
 business, did not the rolling of the boat pro- 
 duce some rolhng and heaving of the stomach, 
 which occupies their attention. But they hold 
 on to their post of duty, sensible that life is de- 
 pending on it. Our spirits, happily, though in 
 sympathy with our sea-sick crew, and partaking 
 of the rolling and pitching of the boat, yet are 
 not affected with the sea malady, and have, 
 therefore, nothing to do, but to look abroad, and 
 enjoy the sublime scene before us ; — the moun- 
 tain waves of the dark rolling deep, the azure 
 vault of heaven, in which the glorious sun, the 
 king of day, is pursuing his wonted course. We 
 adore the wisdom and power of Him who spreads 
 out the heavens like a curtain, and holds the 
 waters in the hollow of his hand. Here and 
 there a sail is seen in the distance, seeming to 
 rest upon the waters like a swan, laving its 
 wings. The policy of our skipper is to keep 
 near shore, so he puts the helm for New Hamp- 
 shire's port. As we glide over the waves, we 
 leave Plumb Island on our left, and soon the 
 Isle of Shoals on our right, and at mid-day dis- 
 cover the village of Portsmouth, and see before 
 
8L 
 
 us blue Agamenticus. Our crew make but a 
 slender repast at noon. The sight of food is 
 almost enough, though their stomachs are be- 
 coming much calmer. This may be owing to 
 the comparative calmness of the sea. The wind 
 has died away. Our vessel rocks but little, and 
 has, indeed, but little motion of any kind. This 
 to sailors, is what the giving out of a horse upon 
 the road is to the traveller. We lay becalmed 
 for an hour or two, when suddenly the sky be- 
 gins to be overcast with dark and threatening 
 clouds, and peals of distant thunder are heard. 
 A fresh breeze springs up from the north : this 
 induces our skipper to run for Portland, to avoid 
 the danger of a squall. The thunder is nearer 
 and nearer, and the lightning more and more 
 vivid. The wind rises ; the ocean swells ; our 
 miniature vessel rocks violently ; alternately she 
 mounts and descends, yet riding securely the 
 foaming waves. Tremulous and frail as she ap- 
 pears, she yet proves a safe as well as fast sailer, 
 and might frighten a landsman to death, before 
 she would sink him. We are soon inside of 
 land, safely moored in Portland harbor. The 
 storm is more and more violent. The rains de- 
 scend in torrents ; our crew shelter themselves 
 in the cuddy. But we are not long held in this 
 uncomfortable state. The clouds begin to break 
 
82 
 
 and disperse ; the sky becomes clear, almost as 
 quickly jis it gathered blackness. The sun, de- 
 scending to the horizon with his broad disc, 
 pours forth his rays with softer beauty, and 
 paints upon the opposite vapor, a bow of va- 
 riegated, enchanting colors, extending in a splen- 
 did arch across the sky, resting with either foot 
 upon the ocean. We leave the harbor, and turn 
 our course easterly, for our destined cove. 
 Night closes in with its dark blue vault, studded 
 with listening; stars, affordino; sufficient lig-ht for 
 our pilot ; especially the north star, ever staid 
 and steady, on which he keeps an inquisitive 
 eye. He is careful to keep far enough from 
 land to avoid all breakers, and have good sea 
 room. Before midnight, we are off the mouth 
 of the Kennebeck, and soon pass the many 
 coves between that and the Damariscotta. Our 
 skipper seems well acquainted with the coast. 
 He has probably been here before, in some 
 vessel from Salem, or Boston, to fight the east- 
 ern Indians. He steers straight for Damaris 
 Cove Island, and entering its snug little harbor, 
 anchors for the night. This island is owned by 
 a Knight of the east, who has cleared up a little 
 farm at the head of the harbor, and is prepared 
 with his flakes for drying his neighbor's fish, at 
 the rate of 1-16 for curing. 
 
83 
 
 We anticipate the approach of morning, and 
 are on our way out of the harbor, for fishing, by 
 the time the first streaks of light are breaking 
 from the east. We are soon upon the ground, 
 and busy with our lines. The fish are very 
 plenty, and very hungry. We have a good haul, 
 and our little boat is soon loaded, and on her 
 way to the beautiful little harbor. The Knight 
 of the island and our skipper, are soon acquaint- 
 ed. The fish are all dressed and salted, and 
 laid upon the flakes to be dried ; and we are on 
 our way by noon for another load. As we come 
 upon the ground, we find some down east boys, 
 with their lines in the water. They look with 
 an inquisitive eye upon our Chebacco sailer, — 
 their expressive countenances seeming to say, 
 *' that is a queer sort of water animal." But we 
 stay not for criticisms. Handsome is that hand- 
 some does. Our fish are soon again dancing 
 upon the deck ; and with a second load we make 
 for the island. 
 
 After a few such days of toil and success, we 
 are ready for a homeward voyage, with a cargo 
 of excellent cod. Having rested for the night, 
 we set sail in the morning with a long day be- 
 fore us. Our course is very zig-zag, as the wind 
 is against us. With a heavy load, and head 
 wind, and home in our eye, our patience is much 
 
m 
 
 tried with our slow progress. But the east 
 winds of spring are not all expended. By after- 
 noon we have a fresh breeze, which puts us on 
 with good speed. As night comes on, we are so 
 well on our way, that we conclude to keep run- 
 ning till we make our own river. The day is 
 wholly gone : but a beautiful night scene sup- 
 plies its place. The moon looks down upon the 
 placid waves, and, 
 
 " With more pleasing light, shadowy sets off the face of things.." 
 
 As we look up, and gaze upon the multitude of 
 stars that fill the heavens, we are ready to ex- 
 claim with the Psalmist, " When I consider the 
 heavens, the work of thy fingers, the moon and 
 the stars which thou hast ordained. Lord, what 
 is man, that thou art mindful of him, or the son 
 of man that thou visitest him." 
 
 By the guiding hand of Providence, we safely 
 reach our own bay, and entering the river, 
 anchor for the night by Cross's Island. In the 
 morning, by the help of the flowing tide, we 
 reach the horse bridge, arid are soon greeted by 
 friends and neighbors. Some of the same lips, 
 that with lengthened visage, and mournful ac- 
 cents, prophesied that we should never see home 
 again, now greet us with the joyful words, " Well, 
 
m 
 
 there ! I thought so ! I bieiu you would make 
 out well.'* 
 
 The news of our arrival and success, spreads 
 from house to house. Fishing boats and fish 
 become the topics of the day. Several are de- 
 termined to enter into the business, some talk of 
 building at their doors six or seven tons, pro- 
 vided there is a prospect of drawing so large a 
 vessel to the launching place. Some express a 
 wish that the town would grant them a ship yard. 
 Others think they shall not be able to do with- 
 out one much longer, and one or two more saw 
 mills beside. 
 
 Death and Burial of Me. Cogswell. 
 
 John Cogswell, Sen., died Nov. 29th., 1669, 
 aged about 72. We will go to the good man's 
 burial. Many neighbors and acquaintances are 
 assembled within, and about the house. He lies 
 in his coffin, upon a' table in the best room of 
 the house, which he had erected with so much 
 care, and in which he had enjoyed so much 
 comfort and peace. There sits his weeping 
 widow, and mourning children and grandchil- 
 dren. You raise the lid of the coffin, and gaze 
 upon the ghastly features of him, who, but short- 
 ly before was busy, active, and useful, having 
 a leading part in all the affairs of the town. You 
 8 
 
8fr 
 
 call to mind the sacrifices he made for his re- 
 ligion and his God^ in coming from a home of 
 plenty and elegance in the city of London, to 
 this wilderness of savage beasts, and more sav- 
 age men ; exchanging the counting-room of the 
 merchant for a log cabin, and a field of rough 
 unbroken soil, to be subdued only by the labors 
 of many a weary day. You look with admira- 
 tion on the remains of such a sainted spirit, so 
 justly venerated by his children, and all who 
 knew him, and so heartily mourned for, by her 
 who had shared his sufferings, and enjoyed his 
 comforts. Both of his beloved pastors are pres- 
 ent. Rev. Mr. Cobbet, and Rev. Mr. Hubbard, 
 with other principal men of the church. The 
 ministers and assembly sit in silent meditation. 
 You may, perhaps, be expecting a sermon, or a 
 long exhortation, from one or both of the minis- 
 ters; but our pious fathers having suffered so 
 much from their Episcopal brethren of the 
 Church of England, were desirous of getting as 
 far from them as they could, in all forms and 
 ceremonies^ and, therefore, would not preach at 
 a funeral, nor have any services but a prayer, 
 A few words only are now addressed by Mr. Hub- 
 bard to the mourning family, and then a solemn, 
 and deeply affecting prayer is offered by Mr. 
 Cobbet, the senior pastor. It is early in the 
 
m 
 
 day, for the way to the sanctuary of the dead is 
 long and tedious, not less than five miles. The 
 centre of Ipswich was the place where our pious 
 fathers went regularly to meeting on the Sal> 
 bath, and once a week to the Thursday lecture. 
 In Ipswich, therefore, they must bury their dead, 
 fast by the house of God ; the way to which 
 seemed shorter for being so often trodden. 
 
 The dead, too, must be borne all the way upon 
 the shoulders of men ; for no carriage was then 
 to be had; and if one could have been pro- 
 cured, our ancestors would have thought the 
 dead dishonored, by being drawn to the grave 
 by a beast. But the time is come for the pro- 
 cession to set forth. The widow and children 
 take a last lingering look at that dear counte- 
 nance, which had so often cheered them by its 
 smiles, now ghastly in death ; and then he is 
 borne out of his house to return no more. You 
 look out of the window to see the procession 
 formed. The men and the women do not walk 
 together, such is the custom of the day; but 
 the men go first, two and two, after the corpse, 
 because the deceased is a male. If it had been 
 a woman to be buried, women would have gone 
 first. The male relatives walk first, and then 
 the female mourners behind them, some of them 
 mounted on horses because of the weary dis- 
 

 tance. Behind them, the male part of the neigh- 
 bors, and citizens, and last of all, female ac- 
 quaintances, riding often more than one upon 
 the same beast. Six neighbors, of a similar age 
 to the deceased, take hold of the pall, while 
 younger men bear the corpse by turns, often re- 
 lieving each other of the heavy burden, and by 
 the side of the whole, is a file of some half 
 dozen men, with their pikes and muskets, as a 
 guard against their savage neighbors. In this 
 silent and solitary manner, they bore the de- 
 ceased to the old burying ground in Ipswich, 
 where his ashes now slumber, with that of nu- 
 merous others from this place, comprising all 
 who died here the first half century, after the 
 settlement began. 
 
 Indian Wars. 
 
 In 1675, began the war with Philip, an Indian 
 chief, in Plymouth colony, who, for some time, 
 had used measures to persuade the Indians in all 
 parts of New England, to unite against the Eng- 
 lish. The eastern Indians also, about the same 
 time, commenced hostilities, and butchered many 
 individuals, and some whole families. 
 
 The Indians also, bor'dering upon the Merri- 
 mack river, feeling themselves injured, by the 
 increase and spread of the English, once more 
 
80 
 
 resumed the bloody tomahawk. They entered 
 the villages of Chelmsford and Woburnj and 
 put to death every inhabitant they contained, 
 sparing not the infant at the breast. They 
 attacked and killed several of the inhabitants of 
 Haverhill and Bradford. Captives were carried 
 away, some of whom had marvellous escapes, 
 and returned again to their friends. On the 
 Merrimack, near Concord, a young woman, six- 
 teen years of age, was taken prisoner. She 
 gave on her return, the following account : " On 
 the morning when I was taken, the family in 
 which I resided, having been told that a party 
 of Indians had been seen the day before, set me 
 to watch on a hill near the house, that I might 
 alarm the family if I saw them coming. About 
 noon, I saw them coming up the hill in great 
 haste, and endeavored to evade them by running 
 into a thicket. But, as they had observed me 
 before on the hill, they found me, after a few 
 moments search, and compelled me to go with 
 them to their settlement, about 40 miles off. 
 Having arrived there, they told me I must re- 
 main, and become their squaw, and dress and 
 cook their victuals. I staid with them about 
 three weeks, during which time, they made 
 several expeditions against the English, and 
 brought home with them a great number of 
 8* 
 
90 
 
 human scalps. On the night of the 6th of De- 
 cember, they returned with six horses, which 
 they had stolen from the English. Having turned 
 these into a small enclosure, they set out on a 
 new expedition. After they were well away, I 
 stole out, and caught, and mounted one of these 
 horses, making use of a strip of bark for a 
 bridle. I rode all that dreary night through a 
 wild and pathless wood, and reached Concord at 
 seven o'clock the next morning." 
 
 A boy, captured about the same time, escaped 
 from the Indians, and though but ten years of 
 age, travelled 60 miles through an uninhabited 
 wood, living on acorns ! Not only were the 
 frontier towns in almost constant alarm, but all 
 others partook in a greater or less degree of the 
 panic. When their war parties came so near as 
 Haverhill and Salisbury, killing the defenceless 
 women and children, and burning their houses, 
 our ancestors in this place could not but par- 
 take of the general anxiety. Several, on differ- 
 ent occasions, were called into the army, and went 
 in pursuit of the savages far from their homes. 
 John Cogswell, son of John who had taken the 
 lease of the School Farm, was taken prisoner by 
 the Indians, some time in October, 1676, during 
 an expedition to the eastward. Some years after, 
 a man by the name of Dicks, of this place, was 
 killed near Casco. 
 
90l 
 
 Mode of Living. 
 
 We will spend a day at Wm. Goodhue's, whose 
 house stood near the present dwelling of Wm. Mar- 
 shall, Jr., in the north district. Without ceremony, 
 we will call at an early hour. As welcome guests, 
 we are invited to sit down with the family to 
 breakfast, on a plentiful dish of bean porridge. 
 Each has a pewter basin and spoon before him, 
 which is filled to the brim, from the large iron 
 kettle standing upon the hearth. Some Indian 
 hoe cake is added to the repast. Having break- 
 fasted, thanks are given, and mercies supplicated, 
 in prayer to Him, who is the source of all good. 
 While the hired men repair to the field for 
 making hay, the father tarries a while, and 
 gathers the children around him for reading and 
 spelling. A portion of an hour, spent in this 
 way, after each repast, is all the schooling the 
 times will allow. The women, having set the 
 house in order, proceed to their daily employ- 
 ment. One repairs to the loom in the chamber, 
 and begins the wholesome task of throwing the 
 shuttle, which vies with time in its swiftness. 
 Another arranges the spinning wheel, and com- 
 mences that music, which, if it does not delight 
 the ear, will clothe and warm the body. The 
 younger ones are busily employed in knitting. 
 
m 
 
 By and by, the men and boys come in from the 
 field for their luncheon of bread and cheese. 
 The large pewter mug is set on, full of malt 
 beer, out of which, they all drink in turn. " I 
 wish," says one of the hired men, ^^ we could 
 have a little strong water. I was up at Good- 
 man White's the other day, and he gave all 
 hands a little, which put us in fine spirits, and 
 spurred us on mightily in our work, while it 
 lasted : and if we could have had a little now 
 and then, it seems to me, we should have done 
 double the work." " But an order," says Mr. 
 Goodhue, "has come from our great, and General 
 Court, forbidding us to give wine or liquors to 
 our workmen, because it gets them into an evil 
 practice, and trains up the young, by degrees, to 
 habits of excess. You feel better on strong 
 water for a while, and so much worse after that 
 to make up for it. And then you want more 
 and more, the longer you take it, till you get to 
 be a drunkard ; or, at least, you are always in 
 danger of this. The only safe way, is never to 
 drink any." " But the law," replies the work- 
 man, " forbids it, except when it is necessary. 
 Now, I think, if it is ever necessary, it is in the 
 winter, on very cold days, and in the summer, 
 when mowing, on very hot mornings." " But 
 the law," replies Mr. G., " means, by its being 
 
m 
 
 necessary, when people are not very well." 
 " Then I ought to have some/' says another, 
 "for my stomach is mighty weak." "And I, 
 too/' says another, " for at times I feel weak all 
 over." " At this rate/' says Mr. G., " you will 
 make it out that it is necessary all the time, and 
 then what is the law good for?" But they 
 must hasten to the field, and make hay while 
 the sun shines. 
 
 At length, the hour for dinner has come ; for 
 the sun lies in square at the window. Anna has 
 been watching the mark for 12, and hastened 
 her dinner, so as to be in season. She blows the 
 horn at the door, and all in the field, and in the 
 house, hear the welcome sound, and hasten to 
 the social board. The dinner is of soup, or the 
 liquor in which salt meat or pork has been 
 boiled, thickened with meal, together with some 
 vegetables. The dish and the plates are of pew- 
 ter. The drink, of malt beer. This is their 
 daily fare. After dining, the children again 
 read and spell. The labors of the day are then 
 resumed. " Come, girls, says the mother, you 
 know the law requires that we spin three pounds 
 of flax, three of wool, and three of cotton every 
 month, or pay our fine. But the worst ^ne 
 would be, the shame of not doing so well as our 
 neighbors. Our class-leader, Goodwife Brad- 
 
^i 
 
 street will be here this afternoon, to do her duty, 
 and see how we get along. Let us make the 
 wheels go with a good loud hum, and reel off 
 all we can. 
 
 The day now begins to decline, and as night 
 draws on, the cows are brought up for milking. 
 A good supper of hasty pudding and milk fol- 
 lows. In the evening, as the workmen rest 
 themselves a little before bed time, the conver- 
 sation turns on the use of tobacco. " It seems to 
 me," says a young man, who was getting on the 
 wrong side of thirty, without any signs of estab- 
 lishing himself in a family state, "that a few 
 whiffs from a good pipe, does much to rest one 
 after a hard day's work. I learned to smoke in 
 England, and could never see any harm in it. I 
 don't understand why your law is so severe 
 against it, that I must wholly leave smoking, or 
 be liable to a fine of 10s. every time I buy any 
 tobacco. Some, I find, do get round the law by 
 raising it in their gardens. But this does not 
 help a stranger. It seems to me that some of 
 you are as much afraid of tobacco as of rum." 
 " "VVe are so, indeed," says Mr. G., " for we have 
 marked, that, too commonly, those who like the 
 one, like the other. And here let me remind you 
 of the law among us, that requires every single 
 man to put himself under the supervision and con- 
 
95 
 
 trol of some head of a family, as it seems to me you 
 are in great, danger of its pains and penalties." 
 
 But it is time for us, reader, to retire. And 
 in leaving this worthy family, we must not 
 think that we have been treated impolitely, 
 because they kept the wheels, and the loom, 
 the scythe and the rake, going so fast, that 
 we had but little time to talk with them; or 
 because they did not give us coffee or tea, or 
 nice cake, for these things were never heard of 
 till more than a hundred years after. 
 
 Formation of the Second Parish in Ipswich. 
 
 In the year 1676, the people of this place 
 began to talk in earnest of seceding from the 
 parish in the centre of the town, and of becom- 
 ing a parish by themselves. They had now, for 
 more than forty years, travelled over difficult 
 roads, four or five, and some of them six or 
 seven miles, to their place of worship. The 
 fathers and mothers who had fled from persecu- 
 tion in England, and knew by contrast the value 
 of freedom of conscience, thought but little of 
 the tediousness of the way to the house of God ; 
 especially as they were sensible that they could 
 not sustain the institutions of the Gospel any 
 nearer to their homes. But their children, less 
 sensible of the value of religious privileges, were 
 
98 
 
 less inclined to make so great a sacrifice to 
 enjoy them. The consequence was, a growing 
 disposition to tarry at home on the Sabbath. It 
 was thiS; perhaps, chiefly, which stirred up the 
 more considerate and religious among them, to 
 take measures for the establishment of the Gos- 
 pel ministry in this place ; which they were now 
 sufficiently numerous and able to sustain. Accord- 
 ingly, in February, 1677, they held a meeting 
 for consultation on this subject, at the house of 
 William Cogswell, which stood a little north of 
 the dwelling now occupied by Albert and Jona- 
 than Cogswell, on the same side of the way. 
 The record of this meeting, is the beginning of 
 our first parish record, which contains several 
 interesting documents and entries, of the pro- 
 ceedings of our fathers, in relation to their sepa- 
 ration from the first church and parish in town. 
 Their mode of writing and spelling, and use of 
 capitals, differed from ours. For our own con- 
 venience, the extracts we may make from this 
 record, will be chiefly in the modern style. One 
 or two of the shorter ones, will be given in the 
 ancient style as a specimen. 
 
 The date of the first meeting is in the record, 
 February, 1676. But the year at that time, did 
 not begin till the 25th of March, and so con- 
 tinued, till altered by an act of Parliament, in 
 
97 
 
 1752, when the year was ordered to begm Jan- 
 uary Istj apd eleven days were added to it, so 
 as to make February 3d., (for example,) Feb- 
 ruary 14th. The date, then, of February, 1676, 
 was, in our style, February, 1677. To prevent 
 confusion in regard to the years, we shall place 
 the new style under the old, where a difference 
 occurs; thus, February I677. 
 
 " At this meeting," says the record, " the in- 
 habitants of Chebacco, considering the great 
 straits they were in, for want of the means of 
 grace among themselves, unanemously agreeing, 
 and drawing up a petetion and presented it to 
 the towne of Ipswich, at a publick towne meet- 
 ing, which was to desire of the towne that they 
 might have liberty to call a minester to preach 
 among themselves : but the towne would not 
 grant it, neither did they seeme to refuse it, but 
 would not vote concerning it." 
 
 In conversation with some of the leading men 
 of the town, the people here were given to un- 
 derstand, that they had no objection to their 
 having preaching among them, especially if they 
 continued to support the ministry in Ipswich. 
 But still as a town, they would not vote for, or 
 against the prayer of the petitioners. This made 
 it necessary for them to carry their petition to 
 the General Court. The Court refused to grant 
 9 
 
the petitioiij but recommended them to make 
 further application to the town, and the town to 
 give their answer at the next session of the 
 Court. This the town did, and the result was 
 that the Court judged not meet to grant the 
 petition at present, but recommended to the 
 town " as soon as may be, to contrive the accom- 
 modation of the petitioners in the matter peti- 
 tioned for." This was October, 1677. 
 
 The next town meeting was held, as the Ke- 
 cord says, February 19, 1677 ; new style, March 
 2, 1678 ; at which the town voted that the 
 Selectmen confer with the Chebacco neighbors, 
 about what they petitioned, and report at the 
 next town meeting. The inhabitants here chose 
 William Cogswell, John Andrews, Thomas Low, 
 and William Goodhue, a committee to confer 
 with the Selectmen. Several conferences were 
 held, but without any decisive result. At length, 
 when they requested of the Selectmen leave to 
 call Mr. Jeremiah Shepard to preach among 
 them, a part of the Selectmen assented, and the 
 rest made no objection. The call was extended 
 to Mr. Shepard, January 19, 1679, who came, and 
 preached in a private house. Finding that no 
 private house was sufficiently large to accommo- 
 date the people, " They agreed to build a plain 
 house, and, if they could obtain leave of the 
 town or Court, to put it to the use of a meeting 
 
99 
 
 house : if not, to some other use." But before 
 this was done, Mr. Shepard gave notice after the 
 religious services of the Sabbath, that he had 
 received a letter from an honorable brother in 
 Ipswich, saying that the church there was dis- 
 satisfied with the proceedings of the brethren 
 here, and therefore he should desist from preach- 
 ing. Upon this, the people here again peti- 
 tioned the town, but without effect. This pe- 
 tition is dated February 4, IGVg. 
 
 On the 15th of the next March, the Select- 
 men, in behalf of the town, sent to the General 
 Court a petition and address, in which they 
 make many heavy charges against the people of 
 Chebacco. The charges are contained in the 
 following reply, which, as it was addressed to the 
 Honored Court, who had the Ipswich document 
 before them, and in the issue were favorably 
 inclined toward the people here, we may believe 
 contained a true statement of the charges, and a 
 proper and sufficient reply to them. 
 
 " A declaration and vindication of the transactions of 
 the inhabitants of Chebacco^ in the precincts of 
 Ipsiuich, in reference to their late proceedings in 
 obtaining the ministry of the gospel among them. 
 May 28, 1679. 
 
 This Honored Court may please to remind 
 that the inhabitants of Chebacco have once and 
 
100 
 
 again applied ourselves to your Honors, that we 
 mio:ht be eased of our lono* and tiresome Sab- 
 bath day's journeys to the place of public wor- 
 ship in our town, humbly hoping that your 
 Honors would so far sympathize with us, and 
 favor our shattered condition as to grant us 
 relief, and we cannot but gratefully acknowledge 
 your fatherly care, especially in our last applica- 
 tion of ourselves to this Honored Court, in seri- 
 ously recommending our case to the town of 
 Ipswich : that our friends and neighbors there 
 might relieve your humble supplicants in the 
 matter petitioned for, that so we might obtain 
 the ministry of the word amongst ourselves, 
 which is our hearts desire ; but contrary to the 
 direction of this honored Court, and cross to 
 our expectations, our friends and neighbors in 
 the town were regardless of our suffering condi- 
 tion : whereupon, after due waiting, and due 
 deliberation, we did apply ourselves to the town, 
 February 19, 1677, to be informed whether or 
 no, they would accommodate us according to the 
 direction of this Honored Court ; our necessity, 
 also, calling for relief, the town did take so far 
 cognizance of our demand, as to refer our case 
 to the Selectmen, to consider with us what might 
 be best for our accommodation ; whereupon, we 
 had a treaty with the Selectmen : but the Select- 
 
101 
 
 men turned us going, with dilatory answers, 
 which were : 
 
 1. They alleged that those farmers towards 
 Wenham, were they that were meant by the 
 General Court that they should be accommo- 
 dated with us : we replied, that could not be, 
 because the return from the General Couit was 
 that we should be accommodated amongst our- 
 selves in the matter petitioned for, which was a 
 meeting house amongst ourselves, and we did 
 not care how many neighbors joined with us, 
 provided that we might have the means of grace 
 amongst ourselves. 
 
 2. They alleged that the war was not yet 
 past, and God's judgments were yet hanging 
 over us, and the town was at great charge ; — to 
 which we replied, that when we sought to have 
 the means amongst ourselves, we looked at it 
 as our duty, and therefore, when the judgments 
 of God were amongst us, that it was rather an 
 argument to stir us up to our duty than to lie 
 under the omission of it : neither would we put 
 the town to charge, either to erect our meeting 
 house, or maintain our minister. 
 
 3. They alleged we belonged to the town, and 
 therefore, were obliged to help the town to bear 
 the charges, and they could not spare our money ; 
 to which we replied, that they alleged at the 
 
 9* 
 
102 
 
 General Court, that we payed but 17 or 18 
 pounds to the ministers of Ipswich, and there 
 were three ministers to whom the town payed 
 200 pounds per annum, and if the town would 
 supply us with one of them, we would pay one 
 of them 50 pounds towards his maintenance 
 yearly. Then they replied, that could not be, 
 and that our want was only in the winter, and if 
 we could get a minister to preach to us in the 
 winter, they would free us from paying to the 
 ministers in the town, in the winter season, and 
 we should come to the public worship in the 
 town in the summer, and pay there. 
 
 This last proposition was the most rational 
 and candid that we have yet obtahiied : which 
 hath been a grand encouragement in caUing a 
 minister to accommodate us this last winter sea- 
 son; though we are now considered heinous 
 transgressors in so doing. 
 
 4. They alleged, that the Kev. Mr. Hubbard, 
 their teacher, was gone to England, and they 
 desired us to wait till he came home again : we 
 answered, the direction from the General Court 
 came a considerable time before the Rev. Mr. 
 Hubbard took his voyage to England; yet if 
 they would engage to supply us as soon as the 
 Rev. Mr. Hubbard came from England, we were 
 wilhng patiently to wait : which we have done ; 
 
103 
 
 but as yet feel no relief. Thus having applied 
 ourselves to the Honored General Court, who 
 seriously recommended our case to the town of 
 Ipswich; and they referring the agitation of our 
 case to the selectmen, and they making a propo- 
 sition to us to provide a minister for the winter, 
 and the extremity of the winter season putting 
 us upon great inconveniences, in regard of our 
 attending public worship in the town, whereupon 
 we were put upon a kind of necessity to seek 
 for relief, if possibly we could obtain the means 
 amongst ourselves ; and, accordingly, we applied 
 ourselves to Mr. Shepard to help us in our pres- 
 ent exigency, till the winter season was over, 
 engaging to pay our wonted dues to the town 
 as formerly, as also to recompense Mr. Shepard 
 for his labors. We applied ourselves to him 
 January 1, 1678. Mr. Shepard taking our mo- 
 tion into consideration, and after some space of 
 time we desiring his answer, he told us he was 
 willing to see his way clear, and therefore desired 
 us to consult with those that were betrusted 
 with the affairs of the town, that he might un- 
 derstand how they approved of our proceedings : 
 whereupon, some of the principal of our inhabi- 
 tants, who had the betrustment of this affair, 
 obtained a meeting of the Selectmen, January 
 9, 1678 : they desired liberty to call a minister to 
 
im 
 
 preach with us at Chebacco, and having per- 
 mission from the Selectmen^ none of them con- 
 tradicting our motion, they again applied them- 
 selves to Mr. Shepardj importuning him to help 
 uSj according to our former request: we obtained 
 his labors, and were willing to encourage our- 
 selves that we should still enjoy him ; comfort- 
 ing ourselves in this, that we hoped we should 
 obtain both the pity and favor of this Honored 
 General Court, and accordingly we put ourselves 
 in a posture for the entertaining the gospel, and 
 were willing to lay aside our self interests, that 
 we might build a house for the worship of God, 
 which we were the more vigorous in, by reason 
 that we had experienced much in a little time 
 of the sweetness and good of that privilege in 
 enjoying the means amongst ourselves, whereby 
 the generality of our inhabitants could com- 
 fortably attend the public worship of God ; of 
 which some hundreds do not, nor, with con- 
 venience, can attend the public worship at town ; 
 and of so considerable a number of the inhabi- 
 tants as are amongst us, scarce fifty persons the 
 year throughout, do attend the public worship 
 of God on the Sabbath days. The house that 
 we have been busied about, for the place of pub- 
 lic worship, was ever intended for such an end, 
 always with this provisal, that this Honored 
 
105 
 
 Court do authorize the same, or countenance 
 our proceeiclings therein : if not, we shall ever 
 own ourselves loyal subjects to authority ; and 
 therefore the same is erected upon a propriety, 
 that if this Honored Court see not meet to favor 
 our proceedings, we may turn our labors to our 
 best advantage. This Honored Court may fur- 
 ther be informed that after we had enjoyed the 
 benefit of Mr. Shepard's labors for some con- 
 siderable time, a man of principal worth in the 
 town, sent a letter to him, which signified that 
 offence was taken at our proceedings, which let- 
 ter has date, February 19, 1678, which Mr. 
 Shepard gave us information of, the Sabbath 
 day following, and ever since hath desisted 
 preaching amongst us, — and information was 
 given thereof to our Eeverend Elders at town ; 
 yet, notwithstanding, a complaint was exhibited 
 against us at the Honored Court of Assistants, 
 March 4, 1678, which signified that Mr. Shep- 
 ard still continued preaching, and we prose- 
 cuting our desires, resolving to enforce our de- 
 mands : whereas, Mr. Shepard had for a con- 
 siderable time before desisted preaching, and we 
 resolving to quiet ourselves with the determina- 
 tion of this Honored Court in reference to our 
 proceedings : and whereas we are complained 
 of to the Honored Court of Assistants, as per- 
 
106 
 
 sons of more iinpeaceable spirits than those that 
 reside in the other Hamlet^ wherein, as is as- 
 serted, are persons of worth, &c., which yet are 
 so ingenuous as to be quiet hitherto, and not to 
 seek a rending of themselves from the body : — 
 to which we might reply, that the worthiness of 
 our neighbors in the other hamlet, should not 
 cause us to derogate from the worth of our poor 
 souls, nor prevent us from laboring after the or- 
 dinary means of salvation : and whereas their 
 ingenuousness is applauded for not seeking a 
 rending of themselves from the body, we hope 
 our ingenuousness may merit a recommendation 
 of the like nature, who do abhor a rending away 
 either from the church or town of Ipswich, as 
 the town will be sensible of by our rational and 
 fair propositions : and whereas it is asserted in 
 the complaint that we have acted contrary to 
 our agreement with, and engagement to the 
 town, April 11, 1678, we reply that we are ut- 
 terly ignorant of any engagement, and therefore 
 admire that our neighbors should render us so 
 scandalous in the face of the country : but we 
 hope we may with all good conscience plead our 
 innocency in this and all other reflections that 
 are cast upon us. These things we desire to 
 leave with this Honored Court, as a declaration 
 of our cause, and a vindication of our innocency, 
 
107 
 
 and are ready farther to inform this Honored 
 Court in what they may please to demand, or in 
 what may be alleged against our proceedings." 
 
 The Court, or rather the Council, notwith- 
 standing this able and unanswerable vindication, 
 decided that Chebacco should desist from all 
 further proceedings in this matter, and sent to 
 our fathers an order to this effect. 
 
 But before they received this order, " The sills 
 of the meeting house were laid in Mr. William 
 Cogswell's land, and the timber in place ready 
 to raise." 
 
 Raising the First Meeting House. 
 
 "While we were in this great conflict, that all 
 things seemed to act against us, some women, 
 without the knowledge of their husbands, and 
 with the advice of some men, went to other 
 towns, and got help, and raised the house, that 
 we intended for a meeting house, if we could 
 get liberty." Eec. 18. This was in the Spring 
 of 1679. 
 
 This bold and decisive act of the good women, 
 though without the knowledge of their hus- 
 bands, yet we may be sure was not done without 
 much previous whispering and privacy among 
 themselves. We may suppose they had a social 
 visit at Mrs. Yarney's, just opposite the corner, 
 
108 
 
 the site of the intended meeting house, on the 
 afternoon of the day before the raising, to talk 
 over matters, and see what they could do to 
 help their husbands out of this trouble. It was 
 only a neighborly visit, though some of them 
 were from distant parts of the town. 
 
 If you had stood that afternoon at what is now 
 the corner of Col. J. P. Choate's lane, you would 
 have seen them coming upon their saddles and 
 blankets from over the river, across the horse 
 bridge, and from the Falls, and from the North 
 End, wrapped in their riding hoods, to protect 
 them from the chilling blasts of Spring, and 
 with countenances betokening important busi- 
 ness in hand. As the}^ reach the corner, they 
 cast an inquisitive eye upon the timber, lying in 
 exact order upon the ground in Mr. Cogswell's 
 field, and seeming to invite some skillful, if not 
 lair hands, to raise them up and give them union, 
 beauty, and strength. The ladies, with an ex- 
 pressive eye, seem to respond, " We'll see about 
 it. We go for union and annexation." They 
 are soon dismounted at Mrs. Varney's door, and 
 housed in her best room. It is an important 
 meeting, and well attended, though got up with- 
 out any public notice. Let not the men any 
 longer say that women cannot keep a secret, for 
 the whole is planned, and will be executed 
 
109 
 
 without the knowledge of their husbands. Let 
 not the men any longer think that they can 
 build a church, or fit it up, without the knowl- 
 edge and concurrence of the women. As men 
 are not invited to this social gathering, we can- 
 not, of course, be present, and have no means of 
 knowing what discussions were had, or what 
 votes were passed. But we guess that all the 
 various difficulties and objections in the way of 
 their arduous enterprise, were freely talked over, 
 and that, when one spoke of the danger of 
 offending the Great and General Court, another 
 bright mind and sparkling eye, suggested that 
 the Court had not said a word about the ivomen, 
 and only forbid the men doing any thing further 
 in this matter. Another eloquent tongue re- 
 marked, that the order sent by the Court, men- 
 tioned only Chehacco men. They had good 
 friends in Gloucester and Manchester, who could 
 come and raise the house without any danger. 
 We guess that Mrs. Martin, and Mrs. Goodhue, 
 and Mrs, Yarney, were appointed, or mentioned, 
 or volunteered, to be a board of managers to 
 go, — one to Gloucester precinct, the other two 
 to Manchester, to raise men, and bring them on 
 to the ground the next day. For, early the 
 next morning, Mrs. Yarney, mounted on the old 
 family horse, with Mrs. Goodhue behind, and 
 10 
 
110 
 
 their hired man Chub, on another horse, to pro- 
 tect them, and Abraham Martin and his wife on 
 another, were seen riding together, over the 
 horse bridge, and returning before noon, with 
 parties of men from Manchester, and the pre- 
 cint, and conducting them to the timber in the 
 corner of Mr. Cogswell's field. Nothing is said 
 by the Chebacco folks : but with great alacrity 
 and cheer, their neighbors go to work, and join 
 timber to timber, and fasten joint to joint, and 
 soon a whole broadside is seen going up ; and 
 by and by another ; and no stop, no stay, till 
 the ridge pole is in its place, and then three 
 hearty cheers indicate that the work is done. 
 Many women upon horses had arrived before 
 the close, with well filled sacks pending from 
 their saddles, the contents of which they deposit 
 at Mrs. Yarney's. Their kind neighbors from 
 abroad are invited to the supper, without any 
 other entrance fee than the good frame they 
 have been in. The tables are spread with a 
 suitable variety ; among which there is a plenty 
 of good tongue, 
 
 Chebacco men are scarce that day, so the good 
 neighbors have to be thanked for their labor of 
 love by the ladies alone. 
 
 On the next Tuesday, the constable came 
 down from Ipswich, with the following warrant 
 from " our Honored Major General :" 
 
Ill 
 
 " To the Constable of Ipsivich : — You are hereby- 
 required to attach the body of Abraham Martin, 
 and John Chub, and bring them before me on 
 Tuesday next, about one of the clock, to answer 
 for their contempt of authority in helping to 
 raise a meeting house at Chebacco. You are 
 also, at the same time to bring with you the 
 wife of William Goodhue, the wife of Thomas 
 Varney, and the wife of Abraham Martin, for 
 procuring, or abetting and encouraging the 
 raising the said house : and so make return 
 hereof under your hand." 
 
 They were accordingly tried in Ipswich, and 
 found guilty, and bound over to the next court 
 in Salem. But the General Court, having cog- 
 nizance of the case, at their session, May 28, 
 1679, ordered, that they appear at Salem Court, 
 and make their acknowledgment in these words, 
 viz. : " That they are convinced that they have 
 ofended in soe doeing, for which they are sorry, 
 and pray it may be forgiven them, and soe to be 
 dismissed without any farther trouble, charge, or 
 attendance, in that respect, or farther attend- 
 ance on the councell for that theire offence. 
 Attests, Edward Eawson, Secretary." 
 
 This Court also chose a committee, consisting 
 of Joseph Dudley, Richard Waldron, Anthony 
 Stoddard, William Jonson, and Henry Bartholo- 
 
112 
 
 mew, for the settlement of the business of Che- 
 baccOj touchmg the place of public worship 
 amongst them, and the settlement of a minister. 
 This committee sat here the 23d of July, 16 72, 
 and heard the statement of a delegation from 
 Ipswich, that the town and the church were 
 satisfied with the acknowledgment made by 
 those active in raising the meeting house, and 
 heard also the reasons presented by them for 
 removing Chebacco meeting house nearer the 
 centre of Ipswich, to accommodate the people 
 at the farms. But the committee, in their de- 
 cision, say, that though a removal of the house 
 farther toward Ipswich, might accommodate 
 some more of the inhabitants, and farmers of 
 said town, yet as the people here are competent 
 to support a minister by themselves, and the 
 proposed removal of the house would greatly 
 discommode those living at the head, and over 
 the river of Chebacco ; therefore, the place 
 where the house now standeth, be, and is, hereby 
 allowed by us; and they have liberty to pro- 
 ceed to the finishino^ of said meeting- house. 
 
 The committee further say : — 
 
 "Respecting the settlement of an able, pious, 
 and orthodox minister among them, for the due 
 management of the worship of God, we find, by 
 a paper presented to us, that they greatly de- 
 
113 
 
 sire the settlement of Mr. Shepard, as their 
 minister, but as he hath not professed his sub- 
 jection to the order of the gospel amongst us, in 
 joining to any particular Congregational Church, 
 we see not reason at present to advise Mr. Shep- 
 ard's preaching or settlement amongst them." 
 
 We see here a continuance of the same fear 
 which manifested itself in the first settlement 
 of the colony, that Episcopacy, or some other 
 church power, should gain the ascendency, and 
 triumph over civil freedom. As Congregation- 
 alism was purely democratic, it • excited no fears, 
 and was ardently cherished. The committee 
 farther advised the people here, seriously to con- 
 sider, with invocation of God's name, of some 
 meet person, learned, able and pious, to manage 
 the public worship of God amongst them, and to 
 report to them between that and the day before 
 the meeting of General Court, in October next. 
 At that time, a delegation from this place, ap- 
 peared before the committee, and stated, that 
 for want of time, or some other considerations, 
 Mr. Shepard had not complied with their ad- 
 vice ; but that their desires were still towards 
 him. Upon which, the committee appointed the 
 2d Tuesday in April, 1680, for a further hearing 
 of this matter. At that meeting, the delegation 
 of this place presented to the above committee, 
 10* 
 
114 
 
 Mr. John Wise, as one in whom they were 
 •Qnanimouslj agreed to be their pastor, and who 
 was approved and accepted by the committee. 
 
 Mr. Shepard, doubtless, left Chebacco, July, 
 1679, according to the advice of the committee; 
 otherwise the people here would have become 
 offenders by employing him, and would have 
 been summoned to court as such. Mr. Shep- 
 ard was the son of Rev. Thomas Shepard, of 
 Cambridge. He was graduated at Harvard Col- 
 lege, 1669. After leaving this place, he was 
 settled in Lynn, and continued in the ministry 
 there 41 years, being eminent in his profession. 
 
 After leave obtained of the Court, our ances- 
 tors doubtless proceeded to finish the meeting 
 house, in part, at least, that same summer and 
 autumn. As the site of this first house of wor- 
 ship is a matter of doubt with some, we give the 
 following facts, which show that it must have 
 been the lot of land now covered by the house 
 and barn of Capt. Joseph Choate. 
 
 The people here petitioned the town, Feb- 
 ruary, 1679, for leave to set this house on the 
 common land, by Thomas Yarney's, which was 
 opposite to where Capt. Choate's house now is. 
 This being refused, the sills were laid, says the 
 record, on said William Cogswell's land, and the 
 timber in place ready to raise. Page 12. 
 
115 
 
 At a parish meeting, August, 1693, it was 
 voted that the two short seats in the meeting 
 house be given to WilHam Cogswell and his 
 heirs, on (Condition that he, or they, give to the 
 parish a legal assurance of land under said house 
 and ajoining. Mr. Cogswell's land extended 
 from the head of the lane, which is now Spring 
 Street, to the head of the lane leading by Col. 
 Choate's house, then the road to Gloucester. 
 
 The north-western corner of his field, (now 
 Capt. Joseph Choate's house lot,) was near to 
 that lot on the common, or parsonage, which our 
 fathers selected, but which the town would not 
 grant. It was the most central, as the corner 
 where three roads met. The deed of Capt. 
 Choate's house lot, recognizes the fact of its 
 having been owned by Adam Cogswell, a son of 
 William, and gives the dimensions 13 rods by 
 3, which were suitable for a meeting house lot. 
 
 The record says that the site of that first 
 meeting house was four and a half miles from 
 Ipswich meeting house, which is precisely the 
 distance of Capt. Choate's house, to Ipswich 
 north church. 
 
 When the author came here, forty years ago, 
 there were several aged people living, whose 
 fathers and mothers had worshipped in the first 
 house, (as late as 1719,) and whose testimony 
 
M6 
 
 was, that it stood on the site of Capt. Choate's 
 house, which in their younger dajs was called 
 Meeting House Hill. 
 
 The second house, built in 1719, was 52 feet 
 by 42. From which we may conclude, that the 
 first house was somewhere about 42 by 36. It 
 faced the west, as we learn from the record ; had 
 two doors in front, with wooden latches, and 
 *^ good and sufficient strings " for lifting the 
 latches. There were galleries on three sides of 
 the house : the pulpit stood on the eastern side, 
 opposite to the doors, with a solid and elevated 
 sounding board, over the head of the preacher, 
 and a handsome cushion for the Bible. Only 
 two or three pews were built at first ; the rest 
 of the floor of the house was covered by long 
 and short seats : the same in the galleries. A 
 turret was built on the centre of the house, 
 ^^ after the fashion, and in the proportions of the 
 turret in Andover." In this turret a bell was 
 hung. 
 
 The salary of the sexton, for ringing the bell, 
 and sweeping the house, and setting the bason 
 with water, for baptizing, was 20s., and freedom 
 from parish taxes. 
 
 The committee of the parish were styled, the 
 Selectmen of Chebacco. Their stated business 
 was to assess the tax for the support of the min- 
 
117 
 
 ister, and for defraying other parish expenses. 
 Occasionally, they were instructed to see that 
 the pulpit cushion was repaired, that the broken 
 glass in the windows was mended,' and the 
 strings of the doors kept in order, that they 
 might be easily shut and opened. 
 
 After the house was so far finished as to be 
 convenient for public worship, a committee was 
 chosen to dignify the seats ; with instructions to 
 begin at the centre seats, as first in dignity, and 
 account the others more or less honorable, as 
 they approached to, or receded from, the centre. 
 
 Annually, a committee was chosen to seat the 
 people in the more or less honorable seats, ac- 
 cording to the amount of taxes which they paid, 
 or the offices which they filled. If the reader 
 is surprised at these aristocratic notions in our 
 ancestors, they may find some apology for them 
 in the fact that they came from a land of aris- 
 tocracy ; or perhaps a better apology in the fact 
 that something of the same custom prevails at 
 this day ; with this difference only, that people 
 now choose for themselves more or less costly 
 seats, as best suits their own notions, and thus 
 dignify their own seats. In our fathers' days, 
 the being set lower than others by the commit- 
 tee, because they did not pay so much as their 
 neighbors, never sat easy upon them, and there 
 
118 
 
 were not unfrequent rebellions against the law- 
 ful authorities on this account, though the prac- 
 tice continued for many years. 
 
 The parish vote that the Selectmen cause 
 posts to be set round the house, that Mr. Cogs- 
 well's fence may not be damnified by the tying 
 of horses. Several flat rocks with steps, were, 
 according to the custom of the day, placed in 
 convenient position for mounting the horses. 
 
 Dedication of the House. 
 
 Every thing in and about the house being 
 thus arranged, and Mr. Wise, whom they had 
 chosen to settle with them, having arrived, April, 
 1 680, measures are taken for the dedication of 
 the house to the service of God. It is on Wednes- 
 day, the day usually selected for ordinations 
 and dedications. The occasion, as a matter of 
 course, excites much interest among the people 
 here, who begin early in the day to prepare for 
 attendance. Their neighbors in Manchester 
 and Gloucester West Parish, who raised the 
 house, we may well suppose, were there, with 
 many of their friends with them. 
 
 We will go to the North End, and attend the 
 dedication. As you approach the house, you see 
 many collected, and many others coming, some 
 on foot, and some on horse back. The posts are 
 
119 
 
 all occupied with horses, and Mr. Cogswell is so 
 exhilirated with the day, that he will not com- 
 plain if his fence suffers a little by the many 
 that are fastened thereto. 
 
 Standing opposite to the house, you look up 
 and see a plain two story building, with a double 
 row of diamond glass windows, and a turret on 
 the middle of the ridge pole. The sharp sound 
 of the bell tells you that the hour of service is 
 near at hand ; you walk up to one of the doors, 
 and enter by pulling the string which hangs 
 
120 
 
 gracefully down. A side aisle is before you, and 
 you are shown to the strangers seats. Before 
 the service begins, you notice the appearance of 
 the inside of the church ; above, all is open to 
 the roof; the beams and rafters are of solid 
 white oak. The boarding of the roof is new, 
 and not yet occupied with the spiders' webs and 
 swallows' nests. The walls above the galleries 
 are not yet plastered. You look for the singers' 
 seats, but such a thing is not even imagined. 
 All that can sing in the house, are "the singers." 
 The pulpit is plain, but lofty, with a spacious 
 window behind, and a massive sounding board 
 above, to prevent the voice of the speaker from 
 ascending to the ridge pole. In front of the 
 pulpit is a high seat, or pew, for the deacons, 
 and a pew by the side of the pulpit for the min- 
 ister's family. The deacons' seat is empty, as 
 the church is not yet organized. One suitable 
 to fill the olfice of deacon, is chosen by the 
 parish, to read the psalm or hymn, and pitch 
 the tune. As you glance at the audience, you 
 see the women by themselves on the short 
 seats, on both ends of the house. They are 
 covered with thin hoods and short cloaks. The 
 gentlemen on the long seats in the middle of 
 the house are clad in homespun coats and deer- 
 skin small clothes, blue or grey stockings, with 
 
121 
 
 shoes and broad buckles. The whole presents to 
 you a very ancient appearance, as yoyrs will to 
 posterity, 200 years hence. But soon the minis- 
 ter enters and ascends the pulpit. Mr. Wise is a 
 tall, stout man, majestic in appearance, of great 
 muscular strength ; his voice is deep and strong; 
 his sermon is adapted to the occasion ; and by ap- 
 propriate, fervent prayer, he consecrates the house 
 to God. The singing is apparently by the whole 
 assembly, which, though not of the most refined 
 kind, is hearty and strong ; books are scarce in that 
 day, so the psalm is read for singing, one line at 
 a time. After the benediction the numerous 
 audience, interested, and, perhaps, edified by the 
 services, retire from the sanctuary ; when all the 
 friends from abroad are cordially invited by the 
 people here, to go with them to their homes to 
 partake of the rich repast, which had been pre- 
 viously made ready. 
 
 The people of this Parish while they supported 
 their own Minister, continued to pay their accus- 
 tomed rates for the support of the two Ministers 
 in Ipswich, till February 1681. 
 
 In Oct. 1680, they petitioned the Court to be 
 set free from paying ministerial taxes in Ipswich, 
 
 In answer to this the Court say : " We judge 
 it meet that all the people, inhabitants of Ipswich 
 shall continue their several proportions to the 
 11 
 
122 
 
 maintenance of the ministry there, unless those 
 of Chebacco be discharged, from payment to the 
 ministry of Ipswich, and left to maintain their 
 own minister." 
 
 A True Cofy, 
 
 Attest, Edward Eawson, Sec. 
 
 At a town meeting held the 15th of the follow- 
 ing February, the town accepted this latter part 
 of the Court's order, and discharged Chebacco 
 from any farther taxes to support their ministers. 
 
 At this meeting they also defined the boundary 
 line between Ipswich, and Chebacco, or between 
 the first and second Parishes of Ipswich, viz : from 
 the head of Choate's brook to run down to 
 Castle Neck river, as the creek runs into the river 
 and so to the sea ; also from the head of said 
 brook to Marbles', thence including Knight's farm, 
 and to run on a straight line from the southerly 
 corner of said Knight's farm, to the double U. 
 tree on Wenham line, and so on the south east 
 upon the neighboring towns to the sea. 
 
 This the Court afterwards so far altered, as to 
 have Knight's farm belong to the Hamlet. The 
 present bounds do not touch Wenham. At this 
 same meeting, February 15, 1680, they granted 
 one acre of ground to Chebacco for a grave yard. 
 
 Mr. Wise continues to supply the pulpit stat- 
 edly, for more than three years, before he is or- 
 
123 
 
 dained their pastor. The reason for this delay is 
 not stated. Probably the church in Ipswich was 
 slow in being reconciled to the thought of parting 
 with so many of its members. The members of 
 that church residing here sent in a request, dated 
 Sept. 6, I68I5 to be dismissed for the purpose of 
 being organized into a church in this place. How 
 soon this request was granted, does not appear ; 
 but the church was not organized here till about 
 two years after ; and of course those making the 
 request still remained members of Ipswich church 
 during that time. 
 
 In Feb, 1682, the parish extended a formal 
 call to Mr. Wise to settle with them as their 
 pastor. 
 
 Again in May following they chose a Com- 
 mittee to treat with him about a settlement. 
 
 They offer him for his support 10 acres of land, 
 which they had bought for this purpose of 
 Richard Lee, to be is own and his heirs and as- 
 signs forever. This was called his settlement ; 
 his annual salary was to be £60, or $200, Mn 
 money, and | in grain, at the current price, 40 
 cords of oak wood by the year yearly, and 8 loads 
 of salt hay. In addition to this they agree to 
 build, and keep in repair, for his use, a parsonage 
 house and barn ; the house to be equal in every 
 respect to Samuel Giddings' house ; which seems 
 
124 
 
 to have been a model house in that day. He was 
 also to have the use of the parsonage lands and 
 the strangers' contributions. 
 
 This was a generous support. Comparing the 
 value of money and grain, and the common style 
 of living in that day, with the present, we may safe- 
 ly say that it would require at least $800 per an- 
 num to support a minister as well at this day. The 
 parsonage house stood on the parsonage land, now 
 owned by Josiah Low, at the north end of that 
 enclosure. The remains of the cellar are still to 
 be seen. 
 
 The ten acres given him for his settlement were 
 in the rear of the house now owned by John 
 Mears, senior. 
 
 Organization op the Church and Ordination 
 
 OF Mr. Wise. 
 Mr. Wise, the pastor elect, was born at Rox- 
 bury, and educated at Harvard College. He was 
 21 years old when he left College. As he did 
 not commence preaching here till he was 28, he 
 doubtless spent much, if not all, of the interven- 
 ing time, in preparing for the Ministry, and in sup- 
 plying vacant pulpits. On the day of his ordi- 
 nation, Aug. 12, 1G83, he was a little more than 
 31 years of age, being born July 1652. The 
 Church was organized on the same day of his 
 
125 
 
 ordination, and by the same Council, which set 
 him over it as pastor. 
 
 As William Cogswell^had been a leading man 
 in getting up the Parish and Church, and in build- 
 ing the Meeting House on his own land, we may 
 naturally suppose that the Council met at his 
 house, which was not far from the Meeting House, 
 on the afternoon of Aug. 11th. 
 
 The first Church Kecord kept by Mr. Wise? 
 was lost. We have therefore no copy of the letter 
 missive sent to the churches for their attendance 
 in Council, and no means of knowing what 
 churches were sent to, except in the case of 
 Wenham Church ; whose Eecord notices the letter 
 to that Church from Chebacco, inviting them to 
 be present by their pastor and delegates, to aid 
 in organizing a Church, and ordaining Mr. Wise 
 as their pastor. This is the only Eecord extant 
 of the origin of this Church, Aug. 12, 1683. The 
 Wenham Record proceeds to say that the Church 
 voted to comply with the request and chose 
 Capt. Fiske, George Gott, Deacon Fiske, with 
 their pastor Rev. Joseph Gerrish, to attend in the 
 proposed Council. 
 
 William Cogswell married Martha, the daugh- 
 ter of Rev. John Emerson of Gloucester ; so that 
 he was doubtless present with his delegates. 
 Rev. Messrs. Cobbet, and Hubbard, formerly the 
 11^ 
 
126 
 
 pastor, and teacher of those who were to be 
 gathered into a Church, could not of course be 
 absent. Kev. Edward Pay son of Rowly was also a 
 native of Eoxbury, a graduate of the same Col- 
 lege with Mr. "Wise, and nearly of the same age, 
 and was of course invited to be on the Council, 
 with his delegates; Rev. Jeremiah Shepard of 
 Lynn, who had been with this people in their 
 first separation from Ipswich church, and to whom 
 they were ardently attached, as a minister of the 
 gospel, would also receive an invitation to attend 
 the Council. The church in Manchester as a 
 near neighbor, and whose good men had kindly 
 helped our women in raising the meeting house, 
 would not of course be passed by. Their preach- 
 er. Rev. Mr. Winborn, was not settled over them 
 as pastor, yet he was doubtless present with the 
 delegates from that church. The church in Rox- 
 bury, in which Mr. Wise had been brought up un- 
 der the ministry of the venerated Elliot, styled 
 the apostle to the Indians, from his benevolent 
 labors among them, we might suppose would be 
 invited to be present with their pastor and dele- 
 gates, were it not for the great age of Mr. Elliot, 
 then in his 80th year, and the difficulty of travel- 
 ling so great a distance in that day. 
 
 Aside from the Roxbury church, we have six 
 others, who were doubtless here by their pastors 
 
127 
 
 and delegates^ making a Council of twenty or 
 more. Their first business, after organizing at the 
 house of Mr. Cogswell, was to examine the docu- 
 ments respecting the proposed organization of the 
 church ; such as the request of church members 
 here to be dismissed, for this purpose, from the 
 church in Ipswich, and the vote of Ipswich church 
 to grant this request, with the accompanying 
 letter of dismission and recommendation. These 
 being found regular by the Council, they pro- 
 ceed to examine, and pass judgment upon those 
 relating to the ordination of Mr. Wise ; the call 
 of the Parish extended to him, and his answer, 
 his church standing, and letter of dismission and 
 recommendation, that he may be a church mem- 
 ber here, together with his licensure to preach, 
 usually given in that day by some church that 
 had examined the candidate. Being satisfied 
 with these papers^ the next business of the Council 
 is to examine Mr. Wise, as to his theological attain- 
 ments and soundness in the faith, and religious 
 experience. This examination takes up the rest 
 of the day ; and the Council adjourn to an early 
 hour in the morning. Assembled in the morning, 
 they express by vote their satisfaction with the 
 pastor elect, and proceed to designate the minis- 
 ters who are to perform the several parts in his 
 ordination, and also those who are to lead in the 
 
128 
 
 services at the organization of the church ; they 
 then proceed in procession from Mr. CogswelFs 
 to the meeting house. Great numbers are in at- 
 tendance from this and the neighboring towns. 
 
 The day is warm and every door and window 
 of the house is thrown open ; the bell from the 
 turret sends forth its peals with more than usual 
 animation; every eye sparkles, every countenance 
 brightens ; the crowd at the door open to the 
 right and left for the Council to pass in ; then all 
 enter that can ; every seat is filled, every aisle 
 crowded ; the many without are not far from the 
 pulpit, and can readily hear through the open 
 doors and windows. The services are all of an 
 interesting character to puritan hearts, and are 
 listened to with devout attention, especially by 
 those who are thus to receive a spiritual watch- 
 man and guide. The Council are seated in front 
 of the pulpit, the persons to be organized into a 
 church are on each side of them, the men on the 
 right, the women on the left. Mr. Cobbett the 
 oldest minister on the Council, and of course its 
 moderator, commences the services by prayer ; he 
 then calls upon those who are to be formed into 
 a church to rise, that they may in that public and 
 solemn manner give their assent to the confession 
 of faith, and covenant, previously prepared. The 
 confession of faith, is doubtless a brief summary 
 
129 
 
 of that which had just been adopted by all the 
 puritan churches in a general Synod in Boston^ 
 and which contains the doctrine of the Triune 
 God, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost ; of the native 
 and entire depravity of man ; regeneration by 
 the Holy Spirit ; justification by fiiith in the 
 atoning blood of Christ; the perseverance of the 
 saints ; the everlasting happiness of the righteous ; 
 the eternal misery of the wicked ; with other kin- 
 dred doctrines, involved in them, and growing 
 out of them. The covenant administered to 
 them, is in these words. 
 
 You do in the name and fear of God (as in the presence of God, men and 
 Angels,) take God, Jehovah, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, to be your only 
 portion, and chifest good ; giving up yourself and yours unto his use, and 
 service, in the sincerity and uprightness of your hearts ; you do promise by 
 the assistance of Divine Grace, to walk in His fear, according to the rule of 
 worship and manners towards God and men, all your days, as He shall 
 reveal His mind to you oat of His holy word and truth ; farther you do by 
 your own choice and act, (highly esteeming the privileges of God's House 
 hold,) yield yourselves, as members of the Church of Christ, before which 
 you now stand. Expecting its faithful watch over you ; and you promise 
 subjection to the discipline of Christ in it, both corrective and directive, 
 while God shall continue you members of it ; also promising all love and 
 watchfulness over your fellow members, you do resolve to discharge all 
 your duties both to God and men, Christ by His grace assisting you. * 
 
 Having given their assent to this covenant^ 
 and confession of faith, Mr. Cobbet, in the name 
 of the Council, declares them to be a regular 
 church of Christ, in fellowship with all sister 
 churches. 
 
 * Mr. Pickering, successor to Mr. Wise, says in his Eecord, that Mr- 
 Wise's son, Eev. Jeremiah Wise of Berwick, Me. handed him this covenant, 
 as the original covenant of this church. 
 
130 
 
 The ordination services immediately follows. 
 Judging from the usuage, which has come down 
 to us from our fathers, we may naturally suppose 
 that these services were performed by the follow- 
 ing'persons. Introductory prayer, Mr. Winbom ; 
 prayer before the sermon, Mr. Shepard ; sermon, 
 Mr. Hubbard ; Ordaining prayer, Mr. Emerson ; 
 charge to the pastor, Mr. Cobbet ; Right hand of 
 fellowship, Mr. Payson ; concluding prayer, Mr. 
 Gerrish ; benediction by the pastor. The ser- 
 vices close sufficiently early to allow all to partake 
 of the hospitalities of dinner, and ride to their 
 several homes before sunset. Thus was organized 
 the first church and parish in this place, which 
 took the name of " the second church and parish 
 in Ipswich." Soon after its organization, the 
 church chose John Burnham, and Thomas Low, 
 for Deacons. 
 
 Training Day. 
 
 The jealousy, and hostility of the Indians made 
 it necessary for our ancestors to be in constant 
 preparation to defend themselves. As early as 
 1634, it was ordered that every trained soldier, 
 pikeman, and others be equipped for service. 
 
 Training was to be eight times in the year ; 
 lads from ten to sixteen formed platoons by them- 
 selves, armed with small guns, half pikes, or bows 
 and arrows; and boys under ten, who on training 
 days came to look on, were formed into a pla- 
 
131 
 
 toon and drilled by some officer appointed for 
 the purpose by the Captain. This gave to them 
 a courage and hardihood which accounts for 
 some remarkable feats performed by children. 
 One in particular has come down to us from old- 
 en time by tradition. The scene is in the edge 
 of the woods where the late Asa Burnham resided; 
 a lad by the name of Burnham, about ten years 
 old, was walking in the woods, and came suddenly 
 upon two cubs. He amused himself with them for 
 a few moments ; when to his terror he saw the 
 old bear coming fiercely upon him with a wide 
 yawning mouth. He instantly seized a pine knot, 
 which lay near him, and as she came up, thrust it 
 with all his might down her throat, and then ran 
 for the house ; but it was enough, she could not 
 follow him. 
 
 When his father came out with his gun, he 
 found her in the struggles of death. The jagged 
 edges of the kot caused it to stick fast, till she 
 was completely choked. 
 
 But we will go upon the common, and see the 
 soldiers upon parade. It is the first training day 
 ever witnessed in Chebacco, (1683.) Previous to 
 this all able to bear arms, were obliged to travel 
 to the centre of the town, with all their accoutre- 
 ments, eight times in a year, for a military muster. 
 But Chebacco has now become the second Parish 
 in Ipswich, with a minister settled among them, 
 
132 
 
 and they must have a miUtary company for their 
 honor, and defence ^ Lieutenant John Andrews 
 is commander of the company, William Goodhue 
 Ensign, Samuel Ingalls, Corporal, and Thomas 
 Yarney, Sergeant. Early in the morning Ser- 
 geant Varney, with the drummer and fifer, are 
 seen traversing the place, reminding all by beat 
 of drum to assemble on the ground according to 
 previous notice. " The spirit stirring drum, and 
 the ear piercing fife," raise up the buoyant spirits 
 of the young, who anticipate a large share of 
 pleasure on this day of parade. But the older 
 men, aware of the dangers of war, especially of 
 the insidious, and bloody assults of the Indian, 
 cannot but look grave, though it be training day. 
 The hour of muster is come. They are formed into 
 a line 64 in number. At the end of the line on the 
 left is the platoon of boys from ten to sixteen, 
 and still farther on, those under ten. The roll is 
 called with loud and measured tones, and answered 
 by the no less solemn and significant, " here." 
 
 You are particularly struck with the appearance 
 of the officers, as they stand out in front of the line. 
 Lieut. Andrews, in the military style of the day, 
 is dressed in red small clothes, and red stockings, 
 with a profusion of gold lace upon his three cor- 
 nered hat. 
 
 You look upon the long line of men, and see 
 
133 
 
 countenances of steady courage, and manly sense, 
 with bodies of great muscular strength : their 
 dress is not perfectly uniform, yet they have all 
 deerskin small clothes, and blue stockings, with 
 coats of good homespun cloth, spun and woven 
 by their wives, and daughters. The platoon of 
 boys, with wigs encircling their rosy cheeks, and 
 small clothes buckled at their knees, with long 
 stockings, and broad buckles upon their shoes, 
 appear like men in miniature. 
 
 As fire arms are scarce, only about two thirds 
 of the company have muskets, the rest have pikes, 
 and the pikemen are by law dressed with head 
 pieces and corselets. Bullets too are scarce, and 
 smooth stones fitted to the bore of the gun, are 
 substituted for them. On the left, beyond the 
 boys, is a group of Indians with their squaws, and 
 papooses, looking on with much curiosity, and 
 earnestness ; they eye the scene with a keen and 
 jealous look ; often curling the lip with contempt 
 at seeing the English boy handling the crossbow, 
 which, however, is suddenly changed to fear 
 when the white men's guns all speak together. 
 
 It was, with the blessing of God, the English- 
 man's gun of which the Indian had not learned 
 the use, nor obtained possession, which saved 
 them from the deadly massacre of the tomahawk. 
 But, see, while we are moralizing the whole com- 
 12 
 
134 
 
 pany is m motion ; they ar .marching and coun- 
 ter marching, with a quick step in accordance 
 with the music. All the spectators are in motion 
 following them round, back and forth, with exhil- 
 irated feelings, inspired by martial sounds ; even 
 the half naked Indian children feel the inspira- 
 tion, and set their little feet in motion to keep 
 time with the drum. Presently the soldiery are 
 on their way to the North end, closely followed 
 by all the lookers on ; they halt in front of the 
 meeting house, and perform various evolutions ; 
 they proceed to the house of the pastor and 
 offer the customary tokens of military respect 
 By the time they reach the common again, it is 
 high noon ; they ground their arms, and have a 
 recess for two hours, to visit their homes for din- 
 ner. In the afternoon all are together again, 
 each in his place, ready to take arms at the word 
 of command. Most of the aged men, and nearly 
 all the women, old and young, have come out to 
 witness the first training. 
 
 Mr. Wise is present, full of patriotic emotions, 
 and appreciating fully the importance of the day, 
 as one of preparation to defend their country, and 
 their firesides from the deadly foe. Wars, and ru- 
 mors of wars, are all around ; this saddens the 
 hearts of fathers and mothers, as they look upon 
 their sons, and think of their liability to be called 
 
135 
 
 to the battle ground. But the regimentals and 
 the music, and the waving banner, and the vari- 
 ety of involutions and evolutions banish all sad- 
 ness from the hearts of the young, and they think 
 of nothing but the holiday scene before them, 
 and associate with training day only bright ideas 
 and joyous emotions. The afternoon is diligent- 
 ly spent by the trainers in their various military 
 exercises, and laboriously enjoyed by all the spec- 
 tators ; before night they are dismissed and retire. 
 
 The constable with his long black staff tipped 
 with brass, is on the alert in accordance with his 
 oath of office, to see that none loiter behind for 
 any evil practice, but that all may find an early 
 home, and an early bed. 
 
 The latter part of this century the inhabitants 
 of New England generally experienced much 
 alarm, and suffering, from the bloody assaults of 
 the Indians, who were instigated to these mur- 
 derous attacks by the Canadian French. It was 
 therefore deemed desirable to carry the war into 
 the French dominions ; and an expedition was fit- 
 ted out for that purpose under the command of Sir 
 William Phips. He sailed in August 1690, with 
 a fleet of thirty two sail, and arrived before Que- 
 bec in the following October. But owing to 
 several unpropitious circumstances, the expedi- 
 tion failed, and in November, the troops arrived 
 
136 
 
 in Boston. " The expedition involved the govern- 
 ment in a heavy debt ; a thousand men perished, 
 and a general gloom spread through the country." 
 
 The Indians continued their depredations, and 
 butcheries for several years, exhausting the re- 
 sources of the Colonists, and depressing their 
 spirits. The inhabitants of this town were often 
 called on to defend their neighbors at the East- 
 ward, and nearer home, during this destructive 
 Indian war. 
 
 The town of Amesbury was assaulted, and 
 before the enemy could be met, three persons 
 were killed, and three houses burned. In Row- 
 le}^, Byfield Parish, Mr. Goodridge, his wife, and 
 two of his daughters were killed ; he was shot 
 while praying in his family. Another daughter 
 was taken captive, but redeemed the next year, 
 at the expense of the Province. She lived eighty- 
 two years after, and died in Beverly, 1774, aged 
 eighty nine. Her name was Deborah Duty. ^ 
 
 It is pleasing to reflect that our forefathers 
 made no aggressive wars. They treated the 
 Indians kindly, buying their lands of them at a 
 reasonable, and fair price, and using every effort 
 to civilize and christianize them. It was not till, 
 without provocation, they sought to destroy them 
 with their wives and little ones, that they took 
 
 *Hist N. E. 
 
137 
 
 arms in their own defence, and were compelled 
 to use them, till their savage foes were nearly all 
 destroyed, or driven back into the interior ol the 
 country. 
 
 Independence Declared, 1687. 
 
 On the death of Charles II., James II. ascended 
 the throne. Under his reign. Sir Edmund Andros 
 was appointed Governor of all the New England 
 Colonies. 
 
 In 1687, he caused a tax to be levied upon the 
 people of this colony of Id. on £ 1, which was a vio- 
 lation of their charter rights, and their rights as 
 Englishmen, not to be taxed without their con- 
 sent in a Legislative Assembly of Parliament. 
 
 The minister of this place, feeling that the 
 liberties of the country were in danger, went 
 with two of his parishioners, John Andrews, 
 senior, and William Goodhue, to the centre of 
 the town, to confer with friends there on the sub- 
 ject. A meeting for consultation was held at the 
 house of John Appleton, who lived it is said, not 
 far from where the Eailroad Depot now is. At 
 that meeting, after much patriotic discourse flow- 
 ing from hearts glowing with the flame of liberty, 
 it was determined that it was not the duty of 
 the town to aid in assessing, and collecting this 
 illegal and unconstitutional tax. 
 
 In a general town meeting the next day, Aug. 
 12^ 
 
188 
 
 23; which had been called for this purpose, re- 
 marks were freely made to this effect by several, 
 and Mr. Wise in particular, made a bold, and im- 
 pressive speech, in which he urged his townsmen 
 to stand to their privileges, for they had a good 
 God and a good King to protect them. 
 
 We have no record of this speech ; but with 
 his sentiments and language before us in his 
 printed work on the liberty of the churches, we 
 may well suppose that he spoke in substance as 
 follows : 
 
 Mr. Moderator, 
 
 The question before us is one of 
 the deepest concern to us all, involving our 
 dearest rights and privileges ; it is not a mere 
 question of property, whether we will pay the 
 amount of tax levied upon us by his Majesty's 
 servant, the Governor of this Province, but 
 whether we will surrender the right so dear to 
 every Englishman's heart, and so essential to his 
 civil freedom, that of levying our own taxes, and 
 controlling our own means of subsistence. 
 
 This right is inherent in the British Constitu- 
 tion, and is guaranteed to us by our Provincial 
 Charter. It is essential to our civil and religious 
 freedom, to our personal safety and welfare, and 
 to the security, and tranquility of our firesides. 
 
 For it is plain that if any portion of our pro- 
 
139 
 
 perty, however small, may be taken from its 
 without our consent, then by the same principle, 
 the whole of it may be taken, and our persons 
 and families be rendered penniless, and houseless, 
 and subjected to the most abject and cruel servi- 
 tude. Thus reduced to a state of vassalage, we 
 subsist wholly by the clemency of the despot, and 
 may be destroyed at any moment of arbitrary 
 caprice or displeasure. Need I say. Sir, that such 
 an assumption of power would not be tolerated 
 for a day, no, not for a moment, in our father land ? 
 Is not the principle that taxation and represen- 
 tation go together, as familiar there as household 
 words ? Has it not been argued, and demonstra- 
 ted in letters of blood, that not the house of 
 Lords, nor the Monarch upon the throne, but the 
 Commoners only, the real agents of the people, can 
 impose taxes ? Have we lost this inestimable 
 privilege by being at a greater distance from 
 Parliament than some of our brethren ? Are we 
 not Englishmen still, living under the royal gov- 
 ernment, and entitled to all the privileges and 
 immunities of British subjects? And can we 
 then tamely surrender these rights, by the pay- 
 ment of this illegal and unconstitutional tax^ 
 thus admitting a precedent and a principle so 
 destructive of all our liberties ? 
 
 We go sir, for law, and order, and authority ; 
 
140 
 
 but we insist that by the law of nature, which is 
 the law of God, and of right reason, all power 
 and all authority in civil matters, have their origin 
 wholly with the people. In their natural state 
 every man his is own master, and protector ; and 
 if he could secure his own welfare, and safety 
 with equal efficiency single handed, it would be 
 folly for him to sacrifice any portion of his natu- 
 ral liberty, in which he is his own king and 
 councilor. But [this not being possible, he enters 
 a civil community, the chief end of which is that 
 those thus associated, may be secured against 
 the injuries, to which they are liable from their 
 fellow men. This end is best answered by a 
 government substantially democratic; in which 
 the people have a voice in all that concerns their 
 safety, liberty, and property. 
 
 Such a government, it is said, is the British 
 empire ; a limited monarchy based upon a noble 
 and efficient democracy ; w^here the concurrence 
 of the Lords, and Commons in making and re- 
 pealing all statutes or acts of Paliament is neces- 
 sary ; and thereby hath the main advantages of an 
 aristocracy, and of a democracy both, and yet 
 free from the disadvantages of either. Such a 
 monarchy, as by most admirable temperament, 
 affords very much to the industry, liberty and 
 happiness of the subjects, and reserves enough 
 
141 
 
 for the majesty and prerogative of any King, who 
 will own his people as subjects, not as slaves. 
 All this we would fain believe true of the British 
 Constitution ; and yet we look back upon the 
 republics of Greece, and see souie very desirable 
 principles of liberty^ which though they failed 
 under paganism, we are confident may be sus- 
 tained, and carried out under the conservative 
 influence of Christianity. Cf the Athenian 
 Commonwealth, Plato writes, ^^The original of 
 of our government was taken from the equality 
 of our race. Other states there are, composed of 
 different blood and unequal lines ; the conse- 
 quence of this is tyrannical or Oligarchical sway, 
 nnder which men live in such a manner, as to 
 esteem themselves partly lords and partly slaves. 
 But we, being all born brethren of the same 
 mother, do not look upon ourselves as standing 
 in so hard a relation, as that of lords and slaves. 
 The purity of our descent inclines us to keep up 
 the purity of our laws, and to yield the preced- 
 ency only to superior virtue." 
 
 It seems manifestthat most civil commu- 
 nities arose at first from the union of fami- 
 lies, nearly allied in race and blood. And 
 though ancient story makes frequent men- 
 tion of Kings, yet it appears that most of 
 them were such as had an influence in per- 
 suading rather than a power of commanding. 
 
142 
 
 So Justin describes the kind of government as 
 the most ancient, which Aristotle styles, heroic ; 
 which is no ways inconsistent with a democratic 
 state. I am aware, Sir, that it will be said that 
 in such reasoning, and remarks, we are holding 
 forth the languag of sedition, and rebellion against 
 the powers that be. But we disclaim all such 
 intention ; we hold ourselves loyal subjects of a 
 government, which is itself regulated by the con- 
 stitution and laws of the land. And it has been 
 well said, that where the laws of the land are the 
 measure, both of the sovereign's commands, and 
 the people's obedience, the one cannot invade 
 what by concessions and stipulations is granted to 
 the other ; nor the other deprive them of their 
 lawful and determined rights. The prince there- 
 fore, or magistrate who strives to subvert the fun- 
 damental laws of the country, is in reality the trai- 
 tor, and not the people, who endeavor to defend 
 and preserve their own laws and liberties. 
 
 It is most apparent, through the whole minis- 
 try of the world, that it is the duty of all public 
 officers to administer according to the plain rules 
 of the public state, and not by their own fancy, 
 or Avills. And so in this case, the chief ruling 
 officer is obliged to lead the government accord- 
 ing to its plain and settled principles, and not to 
 hesitate or vary to suit his own convenience, or 
 
143 
 
 wishes. It is the saying of those who are skilled 
 in the law, Bex in regno siio superiores habet, Deiim 
 et Legem. The king has in his realm two super- 
 iors, GOD, and the LAW. All the nobles and 
 great ministers of the kingdom must look upon 
 the law as the watchful eye of some dire divinity, 
 restraining them from all deviations and violations. 
 All Englishmen live and die by the law, — the 
 law of their own making. 
 
 The English government is a charter party, 
 settled by mutual compact between persons of all 
 degrees in the nation, and no man must start 
 from it but at his peril. Englishmen hate an 
 arbitrary power, politically considered, as they 
 hate the wicked one. Through immemorial 
 ages they have been the owners of very fair en- 
 franchisements, and liberties ; and the sense, fa- 
 vor, and high esteem of them, as it were extra- 
 duce transmitted with the elemental materials of 
 their essence, from generation to generation, and 
 so ingenate and mixed with their frame, that no 
 artifice, craft, or force, can root it out. Naturam 
 expellas furca, licet usque reciirrit. ^ 
 
 And though many of their incautelous princes 
 have endeavored to null all their charter rights 
 and immunities, and aggrandize themselves in 
 the serene state of the subjects, by setting up 
 
 *You may drive out nature with violence, but she is sure to return. 
 
144 
 
 their own will for the great standard of govern- 
 ment over the nation ; jet they have all 
 along paid dear for their attempts, both in 
 the injury of the nation, and in interrupt- 
 ing the increase of their own grandeur, and 
 their foreign settlements and conquests. On 
 the first appearance of this monster Tyranny, — 
 upon the holding up of a finger, or upon the least 
 signal given, — on goes the whole nation upon 
 the Hydra. The very name of an arbitrary 
 government, is ready to put an Englishman's 
 blood into a fermentation. But when it actually 
 comes in person, and shakes its whip over their 
 ears, and tells them it is their master ; it makes 
 them stark mad ; and being of a mimical genius, 
 and inclined to follow the court mode they turn 
 arbitrary too. Some writers who have observed 
 the governments, and humors of nations, thus 
 distinguish the English. The king of Spain is the 
 king of men. The king of France the king of 
 asses; and the king of England the king of 
 devils ; for the English can never be bridled and 
 rid by an arbitrary prince. 
 
 We trust, sir, that in this province we shall 
 prove true to the blood that flows in our veins ; 
 true to our country, and to our God. We may 
 have to suffer by refusing to pay this unconstitu- 
 tional tax ; but we have a good God and a good 
 
145 
 
 king, and shall do well to stand to our privileges 
 at all hazards. We shall suffer more by a servile 
 compliance with so unjust a demand, than we can 
 by a manly refusal. We shall in that case inflict 
 a blow upon our rights and liberties, which may 
 prove mortal. In the alternative of slavery or 
 death, freemen cannot hesitate. If we must fixll, 
 let it be by the hand of tyranny, and not by any 
 act of our own. Let us die as martyrs in a glo- 
 rious cause and not as guilty self-murderers. 
 
 I doubt not. Sir, that when the vote is tried, 
 we shall all be of one heart, and one mind, not to 
 surrender our rights. In this way we shall obey 
 God, and honor the king. 
 
 As the above is chiefly in Mr. Wise's own 
 w^ords the reader may consider it as a specimen 
 of his mode of reasoning, and style of writing on 
 the great subject of civil and religious freedom. 
 He was then 36 years of age, combining the fire 
 of youth with the firmness and wisdom of man- 
 hood. 
 
 A report of Mr. Wise's doings, and of the ac- 
 tion of the town was made to the Governor, and 
 the consequence was that he, and ^ve others^ 
 John Andrews, Wm. Goodhue, Eobert KinsmaUj, 
 John Appleton, and Thomas French, were arrest- 
 ed and committed to jail in Boston, being denied 
 the privilege of giving bonds for their appear- 
 13 
 
146 
 
 ance in court. They were all found guilty of con- 
 tempt and high misdemeanor, and kept in prison 
 21 days longer, before sentence was passed. But we 
 will let Mr. Wise tell the story in his own words. 
 '^ We, John Wise, John Andrews, sen., Robert 
 Kinsman, Wm. Goodhue, jr., all of Ipswich, about 
 22nd of August, 1687, were, with several princL 
 pal inhabitants of Ipswich, met at Mr. John Ap- 
 pleton's and there discoursed and concluded, that 
 it was not the town's duty any way to assist that 
 ill method of raising money without a General 
 Assembly, which was generally intended by 
 above said Sir Edmund, and his Council, as wit- 
 ness a late act issued out by them for such a pur- 
 pose. 
 
 The next day in a general town meeting of 
 the inhabitants of Ipswich, we the above named 
 J. Wise, J. Andrews, E. Kinsman, W. Goodhue 
 with the rest of the town, there met, (none con- 
 tradicting) and gave our assent to the vote then 
 made. 
 
 The ground of our trouble, our crime, was the 
 copy transmitted to the Council, viz : " At a legal 
 towm-meeting, Aug. 23, assembled by virtue of an 
 order from John Usher, Esq., for choosing a com- 
 missioner to join with the Selectmen to assess the 
 inhabitants according to an act of His Excellency 
 
147 
 
 the Governor, and Council, for laying of rates. 
 The town then considering that this act doth in- 
 fringe their liberty, as free English subjects of 
 His Majesty, by interfering with the Statute 
 Laws of the land, by which it was enacted, that 
 no taxes should be levied upon the subjects with- 
 out the consent of an Assembly, chosen by the 
 freeholders for assessing of the same, they do 
 therefore vote that they are not willing to chose 
 a commissioner for such an end, without said 
 privilege, and, moreover, consent not, that the 
 Selectmen do proceed to lay any such rate, until 
 it be appointed by a General Assembly, concur- 
 ring with Governor and Council." 
 
 We, the complainants, with Mr. John Appleton 
 and Thomas French, all of Ipswich, were brought 
 to answer for the said vote out of our own county 
 thirty or forty miles into Suffolk and in Boston, 
 kept in jail for contempt and high misdemeanor, 
 as our mittimus specifies, and upon demand, de- 
 nied the privilege oViaheas corpus, and from prison 
 overruled to answer at a Court of Oyer and Ter- 
 miner in Boston, Our Judges were Joseph Dud- 
 ley of Roxbury, Stoughton of Dorchester, John 
 Usher of Boston, and Edward Randolph. He that 
 officiates as Clerk and Attorney in the case, is 
 George Farwell. The Jurors only twelve, and 
 most of them (as is said) non-freeholders of any 
 
148 
 
 land in the colony, some of them strangers and 
 foreigners, gathered up (as we suppose) to serve 
 the present turn. In our defence was pleaded 
 the repeal of the Law of assessment upon the 
 place ; also the Magna Charta of England, and 
 the Statute Laws, that secure the subject's prop- 
 erties and estates, &c. To which was replied 
 by one of the judges, the rest by silence assent- 
 ing, that we must not think the Laws of England 
 follow us to the ends of the earth, or whither we 
 went. 
 
 And the same person (J. Wise abovesaid testi- 
 fies) declared in open council, upon examination 
 of said Wise, " Mr. Wise, you have no more priv- 
 ileges left yon, than not to be sold as slaves," and 
 no man in Council contradicted. By such LaAvs 
 our trial and trouble began and ended. Mr. 
 Dudley, aforesaid Chief Judge, to close up a de- 
 bate and trial, trims up a speech that pleased 
 himself (as we suppose) more than the people. 
 Among many other remarkable passages to this 
 purpose, he bespeaks the jury's obedience, who 
 (we suppose) were very well preinclined, viz : ^I 
 am glad,' says he, there be so many worthy gentle- 
 men of the jury so capable to do the king's ser- 
 vice, and we expect a good verdict from you, 
 seeing the matter hath been so sufficiently proved 
 aurainst the criminals. 
 
149 
 
 '• Note. The evidence in the case, as to the sub- 
 stance of it, was, that we too boldly endeavored to 
 persuade ourselves we were Englishmen and under 
 privileges, and that we were, all six of us aforesaid, at 
 the town-meeting of Ipswich aforesaid, and, as the 
 witness supposed, we assented to the aforesaid vote, 
 and, also, that John Wise made a speech at the same 
 time, and said that we had a good God and a good 
 King, and should do well to stand to our privileges. 
 
 The jury return us all six guilty, being all in- 
 volved in the same information. We were re- 
 manded from verdict to prison, and there kept 
 one and twenty days for judgment. There, 
 with Mr. Dudley's approbation, as Judge Stough- 
 ton said, this sentence was passed, viz : John 
 Wise suspended from the ministerial function, 
 fine d£50, pay cost, £1,000 bond ; John Appleton, 
 not to bear office, fine £50, pay cost, £1,000 
 bond ; John Andrews, not to bear office, fine 
 £30, pay cost, £500 bond ; Robert Kinsman, 
 not to bear office, fine £20, pay cost, £500 bond ; 
 Wm. Goodhue the same ; Thomas French not to 
 bear office, fine £15, pay cost, £500 bond. 
 These bonds were for good behavior one year. 
 We judge the total charges for one case and 
 trial under one single information, involving us 
 six men, above said, in expense of time and mo- 
 neys of us and our relations for our necessary 
 succor and support, to amount to more, but no 
 13^ 
 
150 
 
 less, than £400, money. Too tedious to illustrate 
 more at this time, and so we conclude." ^ The 
 town afterwards made up the loss which these 
 persons had sustained. 
 
 After the expulsion of James from England 
 and the introduction of William and Mary to the 
 throne, Andros was put down by the people of 
 Boston, and sent over to England. 
 
 Before a new Governor arrived, Mr. Wise and 
 Nehemiah Jewett were chosen by Ipswich to 
 meet in Boston with the representatives of the 
 other towns to consult with the Council about 
 the public affairs of the Colony. 
 
 Some time after Mr. Wise brought an action 
 against Chief Justice Dudley for denying him 
 the privileges of the habeas corpus act, and recov- 
 ered damages. 
 
 Witchcraft. 
 1692, June 30th, Elizabeth How of West 
 Ipswich, was tried at Salem for witchcraft, and 
 condemned. She was executed July 19th, on 
 Gallows Hill in that town. John Proctor, who, 
 with his family, had removed from this place to 
 Salem Village, (N. Danvers) was tried for the 
 same crime, condemned and executed. A peti- 
 tion for his reprieve was sent from this town^ 
 
 * The Revolution in New England, justified, as quoted by Felt, 
 
151 
 
 signed by thirty two of his former neighbors, tes- 
 tifying to the excellence of his character ; but it 
 availed nothing. His wife Elizabeth, was first 
 accused ; and it was while he was attending her 
 in court, that her accusers cried out against him. 
 She was found guilty and condemned ; but owing 
 to her situation, her execution was deferred, and 
 she thus escaped an ignominious death. 
 
 These facts lead us to a contemplation of one 
 of the most remarkable delusions found on the 
 page of history. 
 
 It commenced in the family of Mr. Paris, pas- 
 tor of the church in North Danvers, and from 
 that Village extended, more or less, to some other 
 towns. 
 
 A daughter and a niece of Mr. P. one 9, the 
 other 11 years of age, had been for some time 
 under the care of the physician of the place. 
 Not succeeding in curing them, he said, either 
 carelessly or seriously, that they were under an 
 evil hand, meaning that they were bewitched. 
 An Indian servant and his wife, in the family, 
 on hearing this, sought by their incantations to 
 find out the witch, that was troubling the children. 
 The children claiming for themselves the honor of 
 the discovery, accused the Indian woman of afflict- 
 ing them. Soon other children in the neighbor- 
 hood complained of being bewitched, and accused 
 
152 
 
 individuals of afflicting and tormenting them. 
 They would see them in the room with them, 
 when others present could not. Whenever the 
 accused were brought into their presence they 
 would swoon away, or fall into fits ; and when 
 the accused were required to touch them, their 
 touch immediately restored them. 
 
 This was sufficient evidence to the bystanders 
 that they were under an evil influence, and that 
 the accused did exercise this power over them, 
 and were therefore worthy of death. How could 
 they think otherwise, when they saw with their 
 own eyes, that their very presence caused the 
 afflicted ones to swoon aw^ay, and that their touch 
 immediately restored them? Reader, have you 
 not seen or heard something similar to this in 
 your day ? And when you have seen the oper- 
 ator by a mysterious influence, produce wonder- 
 ful changes in the person operated upon, have 
 you not been ready to think, that it was some- 
 thing almost, if not quite supernatural ? If so, 
 then you have reasoned somewhat as did your 
 ancestors in 1692. And reasoning as they did if 
 you had lived in that day, and been a judge or 
 juror, would you not have passed sentence of con- 
 demnation upon the accused? The only difference 
 is, no one at this day pretends to any mysterious 
 influence over others to their injury. If he did, 
 
153 
 
 and the jury should be satisfied that he not only 
 possessed, but exercised this injurious power up- 
 on others, would they not subject him to punish- 
 ment ? 
 
 But would intelligent jurors now be satisfied 
 that because an individual looked upon another, 
 and he immediately went to sleep, and slept till 
 he awaked him by his touch, or volition, there- 
 fore, he had him in his power, and was the cause 
 of all the distress which he might happen to ex- 
 perience in his sleep ? They might say it was a 
 mystery, and beyond their comprehension. But 
 they surely would not say, that what they could 
 not understand furnished evidence of the guilt of 
 another. They might say, reasoning from natu- 
 ral science, and well authenticated facts, that the 
 unnatural state of swooning, and a sort of waking- 
 sleep, apparently caused by another, was caused 
 by the powerful working of the subjects own 
 imag-ination, and so also of his comins; out of this 
 state. He (the subject) believed the operator 
 could do all this, and the very expectation, or 
 imagination, that he was doing it, produced the 
 expected effect. 
 
 It is a well authenticated fact, that a surgeon, 
 before operating upon a patient, was about to ad- 
 minister ether, but concluded be would first see 
 what efiect her expectation, and imagination 
 
154 
 
 would produce upon her system. He held the 
 sponge without any ether to her nostrils, and, 
 strange to tell, she was put to sleep by it, and 
 thrown into the usual state of nervous exalta- 
 tion, and experienced almost the same sensations, 
 as are produced by ether. 
 
 Now it may properly be said, that what the 
 surgeon did was the occasion of her going to sleep, 
 but not the cause. The cause, was in herself; in 
 the powerful working of her own imagination. 
 Keader, be cautious of deciding on what you do 
 not understand. Suspend judgment respecting 
 all such seeming mysteries, and wait for farther 
 light. 
 
 This same year, 1692, a series of mysterious 
 events occurred at Gloucester, which called for the 
 active service of a company of soldiers from this 
 town. The people there saw armed Frenchmen, 
 and Indians, about their houses, and in their 
 fields. They shot at them, and saw them fall ; 
 but on coming up to them, they rose and ran off. 
 These foreign foes frequently shot at the town's 
 people, who heard the bullets whiz by their ears; 
 none of the balls however took effect. One man 
 heard a gun go off, and the bullet whiz by him. 
 He saw that it had cut off a pine bush just by 
 him, and lodged in a hemlock tree just beyond 
 him. Turning round he saw four men running 
 
155 
 
 towards him with guns on their shoulders. Can 
 there be any doubt that these were real occur- 
 rences, when several witnesses testify that they 
 saw where the bullet had cut off the bush and 
 lodged in the hemlock ? 
 
 They actually cut the bullet out and shewed 
 it to their friends. ^ You will say, perhaps, that 
 the bush might have been cut off before, and the 
 bullet long before lodged in the hemlock. But 
 whatever you may say, the people of Gloucester 
 were so fully persuaded that they were haunted 
 by these mysterious enemies, that the alarm con- 
 tinued for three weeks. Two regiments were 
 raised, and a detatchment of 60 men from Ips- 
 wich, under the command of Major Appleton 
 was sent to their relief. And relief speedily 
 came ; for as soon as these troops were on the 
 ground, and the inhabitants felt safe, all the 
 French and Indians left the town. 
 
 Education. The First School. 
 Our forefathers, it is well known to all ac- 
 quainted with their history, were intelligent, and 
 well educated men. They knew therefore how 
 to appreciate the importance of a good education 
 for their children. But while in a wilderness, 
 few and far between, and with scanty means of 
 
 * Newhall's Memorial. 
 
156 
 
 living, they could not build school-liouses, and 
 hire teachers, and if they could have done it, the 
 dangers from wild beasts would have rendered it 
 hazardous for their children to go, and come from 
 school. As late as 1723, wolves were so abund- 
 ant and so near the meeting house that parents 
 would not suffer their children to go and come 
 from worship, without some grown person. The 
 education of their children, however, was not 
 neglected. They were taught at home to read, 
 v/rite, and cipher, and were instructed in the 
 great principles of religion, and the principal laws 
 of their country. 
 
 And when in 1642, it was found that some 
 parents were not faithful in these and other du- 
 ties to their children, the Selectmen of the town 
 were directed, " To see that children neglected by 
 their parents are learned to read, and understand 
 the principles of religion, and the capital laws of 
 this country, and are engaged in some proper 
 employment." 
 
 The same year the Town voted that there 
 should be a free school. Cambridge College was 
 established in 1639. A few years after this, aid 
 was solicited from all the families to support 
 charity scholars at this institution, that educated 
 men might be raised up for rulers, physicians^ and 
 ministers. 
 
157 
 
 The representatives from the towns, and min- 
 isters in their several parishes, were desired by 
 the General court to use their influence, that each 
 family give to the College at least one peck of 
 corn, or a shilling in money. 
 
 1651, a Latin school was begun in this town to 
 prepare youth for entering College : And in 
 about a half of a century, 38 young men from 
 Ipswich were graduated at Cambridge. Eleven 
 of them became ministers of the gospel, three of 
 them physicians, and the rest served in civil, or 
 Judicial capacities. 
 
 Toward the latter part of this century, the in- 
 habitants of this part of Ipswich began to think 
 of establishing a free school among themselves. 
 But such a thing could not be done without con- 
 sultation, and general consent. 
 
 A general meeting must therefore be held in 
 the meeting house, of all the voters in the parish 
 to advise respecting it. 
 
 The minister of the parish is present and a 
 goodly number of the parishioners. Mr. Wise is, 
 of course, expected to address them on this sub- 
 ject, and we may suppose that in substance he 
 spake as follows : 
 
 Brethren, and Friends 
 
 We are met this afternoon to advise 
 on a subject, which I trust we all feel to be of 
 14 
 
m 
 
 vast importance to our children, to our country, 
 and to the church of God. 
 
 What are children, what are men and women, 
 without education? Just like the savages that 
 we see around us. Of this we have been more 
 or less convinced, and have long struggled under 
 many difficulties, to give our children what 
 schooling we could at home. But you know 
 full well the temptation to grow remiss in this 
 duty under the pressure of very may domestic 
 labors in the house and in the field. Besides 
 your children, you well know, cannot make much 
 progress in learning their lessons, amidst the many 
 interruptions of home. I see before me a few, a 
 very few of our aged friends, who had their edu- 
 cation in England. They will bear me witness, 
 that with all their care, and toil in teaching their 
 children, they have not been able to do for them, 
 what their fathers in England did for them. And 
 is it not equally true that thei?' sons, and their daugh- 
 ters have not done as much for their children, as 
 was done for them. And will not this downward 
 progress inevitably continue, if we keep on in this 
 way. The less schooling our children have, the 
 less will they appreciate learning, and, of course, 
 the less will they be likely to bestow upon their 
 children. I know it is the opinion of some that 
 you had better continue in, what they call the 
 
159 
 
 good old way. That if you set up a school here, 
 you will have to build a school house, and pay 
 the salary of a school master, which will make 
 your taxes a heavy burden ; that you have al- 
 ready taxes to pay, and some of you an annual 
 rent for your farms to support the Latin school in 
 the body of the town ; that your children some 
 of them, will have a long way to travel to school, 
 and that yourselves, or your older sons will have 
 to accompany them to keep off the wild beasts. 
 But are these difficulties of any importance, com- 
 pared with the proper education of your children. 
 
 You have some of you the same difficulties to 
 encounter in coming here to worship God on the 
 Sabbath, and on lecture day. But still you come , 
 and those of you that are farthest off, are usually 
 first at meeting. Where there is an object of 
 sufficient importance, difficulties vanish. Rest 
 assured if you keep on in the old way, things will 
 go from bad to worse. Already the number 
 among us that neglect the instruction of their 
 children has begun alarmingly to increase. 
 
 There is no prospect, in ray judgmnt, of 
 effecting any reformation, and securing the pro- 
 per instruction of your children, but to have a 
 school under the charge of a faithful master. 
 Even if all parents were faithful in teaching their 
 children at home, still their education would not 
 
160 
 
 be so complete, as if assembled together in school, 
 and passing the whole day in school exercises. 
 The presence of one, animates another, and the 
 striving of some to excel in well doing, stimulates 
 others to the like effort ; so that a collection of 
 children, well managed in a school, will I venture 
 to say, make double the progress they would 
 separately in their houses, with the best care and 
 attention. 
 
 I must, therefore, very earnestly exhort you 
 to go forward in this good work, and spare no 
 pains, nor expense, in giving your children a 
 good education. You, and your fathers before 
 you, have done what you could to establi.sh a 
 grammar school, and a college, that you may 
 have well educated ministers, and rulers. But 
 of what use is it to have intelligent rulers, if 
 the mass of the people are uneducated ? Igno- 
 rance is no friend to virtue, or to liberty. It is 
 no friend to religion. The most inattentive 
 hearers of the word, are usually those of the 
 least education. If you would secure virtue, 
 piety, liberty, and prosperity to your descend- 
 ants, you must liberally patronise the cause of 
 education." 
 
 In this earnest manner, and with many other 
 words did he testify and exhort, saying, "save 
 your children from ignorance, infidelity and 
 
161 
 
 Others present, expressed their minds on the 
 subject : a few doubtingly, and discouragingly ; 
 but the most part with resolution and zeal, in 
 favor of an onward course. The result was, the 
 choice of a committee to hire a teacher, and 
 provide suitable accommodations for a school. 
 
 This committee made choice of Nathaniel 
 Rust, Jr., w^ho opened his school in June, 1695, 
 and taught through the summer with such ac- 
 ceptance, that the next summer they invited 
 him to settle with them, as their school teacher. 
 This invitation he accepted, and taught here 
 several years. The town gave six acres of pas- 
 ture for the benefit of the school, and one 
 quarter of an acre to Mr. Eust, to set his house 
 on. The house which he then built, is the 
 same, as to most of the timbers, with that now 
 owned by Wm. H. Mears. It was remodelled 
 and enlarged about 60 years since. The school 
 pasture was on the north and west, of Mr. 
 Mear's land, and became merged in the old par- 
 sonage pasture. The school was probably taught 
 in a room in Mr. Rust's house, as no school house 
 was built till the beginning of the next century. 
 
 1694. Nov. 5. Died, Deacon John Burnham, 
 the ancestor of the Burnhams in this place, and 
 one of the first deacons of the church here. 
 
 Previous to his death, the same year, a com- 
 14^ 
 
162 
 
 mittee, empowered by the town to settle dis- 
 putes as to the boundaries of lands, met in this 
 place. A report was spread^ that Deacon Burn- 
 ham had encroached on the commoner's land. 
 But the committee, so far from finding this to 
 be true, found that the bounds had never been 
 determined, on that side of Deacon Burnham's 
 farm ; which was the south-west side, near to 
 the present house of Elias Andrews, sen. They, 
 therefore, after due consideration, and consulta- 
 tion with the neighbors, and with Deacon Burn- 
 ham's son John, to whom he referred the whole 
 matter, determined, and settled the boundaries 
 as in the following document. 
 
 JoJm Burnham's Deed to he entered into Record, August 
 13, 1694. 
 
 We the Committee Irapowered to look after Incroachments, and 
 to Settle the bounds where they prove not Settled, being informed 
 that Deacon John Burnham, senr., had Incroached of the Town's 
 Common Land, on the Southwesterly thereof; between his Land 
 and the New Pasture Land, so called. We having been upon the 
 place formerly, and examined the matter ; and finding the bounds 
 uncertainly Settled, Discoursed with the said Deacon Burnham, he 
 having committed all into the hands of his son, John Burnham, 
 Consenting to what agreement should be made between him and us ; 
 he the said John Burnham paying the charge of the Committee. 
 
 We have thus settled his Bounds, beginning at the head of the 
 Creek, called Clark's creek, near Joseph Andrews, his house, and 
 run by the Instrument on the Course of 58 degrees eastwardly 
 from the South, by the Circumferentor without variation, and 
 marked by a white oke tree within the fence near the said Creek, 
 and so, on that Course, Cross the field, to a small pine tree, on the 
 brow of a hill within the Inclosed Land ; then further to a white 
 oke tree on the hill without the fence ; then a Small Walnut tree, 
 then further on the same Course to a hollow oke Just by the Kode 
 that Leads to Gloster, then further to a white oak tree within two 
 
163 
 
 rods of Gloster Line, and further to Gloster Line to a white oke, 
 being a bound tree, marked with the marking Iron. All which 
 said trees are marked for his bounds, he bordering all the way 
 upon the New Pasture Land, from the said Creek onwards, about 
 one hundred ^nd twenty-five Rods to a white oke tree, marked ibr 
 the corner of said Pasture Land, now belonging to Mr. John Cogs- 
 well, and the other two rods onward, bordering upon the land re- 
 served by Ipswich men, Lying between the land of the New Pas- 
 ture and Gloster Line, which said Bounds, as by the marked trees, 
 we settle for his Bounds, and by Consent of the parties concerned, 
 viz. Mr. John Cogswell for himself, and we in behalf of, and with 
 the power of the inhabitants of Ipswich. To have and to hold the 
 said Bounds, for his Bounds. 
 
 EoADS AND Bridges. 
 
 As at the beginning, there was first a ferry 
 for crossing the river near the present dwelling 
 of Adam Boyd, which continued till 1666, and 
 was then superceded by a horse bridge, so to- 
 ward the close of this century, there was first a 
 ferry for crossing where the mills now are, and 
 then in 1700, a bridge was built. There was, 
 doubtless, when the ferry was in operation, some 
 kind of a road over the marsh to Thompson's 
 Island. But when the bridge was built, or soon 
 after, the old causeway was probably built. The 
 ferriage at the lower ferry, was 2 d. a passenger ; 
 at the upper the same for a person, and 4 d. for 
 a horse. 
 
 The road from Col. Choate's lane to the pres- 
 ent bridge, was no doubt opened at an early 
 period, and that gradually, as the convenience of 
 settlers required. This road to the river must 
 
164 
 
 have been opened as early as 1668, when the 
 shipyard was laid out. In 1697; a road is or- 
 dered through John Cogswell, senior's, farm, (the 
 school farm.) This is doubtless the present road 
 from Thompson's Island to the lower causeway. 
 
 1699. A road is to be made from Gloucester 
 line to John Cogswell's upland. This was to 
 meet the preceding road. 1700. — A bridge is 
 to be built over Burnham's Creek, the same that 
 was called Clark's Creek, to connect the two 
 roads above mentioned. 
 
 On the last month of this century, December, 
 1700, William Cogswell, son of John Cogswell 
 died ^81. He had been a very active, and 
 highly useful citizen in this place, and his death 
 was much lamented. His age, at his decease, 
 serves to correct a mistake in Felt's History, and 
 in the address at the opening of our new ceme- 
 tery, in respect to the age of his father. If the 
 son was 81 in 1700, then the father must have 
 been about 72 in 1669, as a very few figures 
 will show. 
 
 We have now reviewed the principal events 
 and transactions relating to our ancestors in this 
 place, from their settlement here, to the close of 
 the 17th century. We have seen something of 
 their trials, and sufferings, their energy and 
 enterprise, their mode of living, and daily pur- 
 
165 
 
 suits ; their regard for the Bible and the Sab- 
 bath ; their Jove for the worship of God ; their 
 obedience to his commands ; and their regard 
 for the best welfare of all among them. 
 
 If, in glancing at their civil regulations, we 
 have been disposed to smile at some of them, as 
 too particular, and interfering too much with 
 the personal concerns, tastes and habits of pri- 
 vate life, we must remember that they are not 
 to be judged of, in these respects, by our modern 
 views of civil, or national affixirs. In the in- 
 fancy of their settlements, they resembled more 
 one large family, with several branches on the 
 same plantation, than a state or a nation. And 
 in their flimily state, their laws and regulations 
 would, of course, resemble those, which are adopt- 
 ed in every well regulated family, rather than 
 those, which are enacted by the government of a 
 nation. Judged in this light, we see the wisdom 
 as well as the benevolence, and watchful care, 
 which marked all their social, civil, and ecclesias- 
 tical regulations. One thing is certain that 
 whatever fault we may find, as to the shape, and 
 appearance of the tree, which they planted, or 
 their manner of setting it in the ground, it has 
 proved a healthy, long-lived tree, and borne the 
 best of fruit. And is not the tree to be judged 
 by its fruit ? Shall we then be wise in cutting 
 
166 
 
 down this tree, and planting one of an opposite 
 nature ? Shall we not do well to cherish the 
 same principles of piety and virtue, which our 
 fathers so warmly cherished, and follow in the 
 same steps of sobriety, holiness and truth, in 
 which they walked, if we would like them, hand 
 down the blessings of a well regulated community 
 to children's children. 
 
 Happy is that people, that is in such a case;' 
 yea, happy is that people, whose God is the Lord. 
 
LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS. 
 
 The following are either now residents in Essex ^ or were horn here. 
 
 No. Copies. 
 
 Benjamin F. Andrews, 
 
 William N. Andrews, 
 
 Moses Andrews, Jr. 
 
 John Andrews, 
 
 William H. Andrews, 
 
 Samuel S. Andrews, 
 
 Charles E. Andrews. 
 
 Israel Andrews, Jr, 
 
 Daniel Andrews, 
 
 Ephraim H Andrews, 
 
 Darius Andrews, 
 
 Aaron C. Andrews, 
 
 Samuel Andrews, 
 
 Asa R. Andrews, 
 
 Joseph Andrews, 2 
 
 Susan E. Andrews, 
 
 Joseph W. Andrews, 
 
 David S. Andrews, 
 
 Franklin Andrews, 
 
 Marv B. Allen, 
 
 W. W. Allen. 
 
 Charles B. Allen, 
 
 Oilman P. Allen, 
 
 Isaac Allen, 2 
 
 John McAsty, 
 
 Warren Andrews, 
 
 Elihu Andrews, 
 
 Miles S. Andrews, 
 
 Nehemiah Brown, Ipswich, 2 
 
 Francis Burnham, 4 
 
 Joel Burnham, 
 
 Zenas Burnham, 
 
 John S. Burnhan, 2 
 
 Humphrey Burnham, 
 
 Luke Burnham, 2 
 
 Mark Burnham, 
 
 W. H. Burnham, 2 
 
 David Burnham, 
 
 Richard Burnham, 
 Winthrop Burnham, 
 Issachar Burnham, 
 D. Atwood Burnham, 
 Aaron L. Burnham Esq. 
 George W. Burnham, Jr 
 Jeremiah Burnham, 
 Rufus Burnham, 
 Aaron Burnham, 
 George F. Burnham, 
 Nathan Burnham, 
 James H. Burnham, 
 Hannah Burnham, 
 Jacob Burnham, 2d. 
 Charles F. Burnham, 
 John J. Burnham, 
 Ebenezer Burnham, 
 Asa Burnham, 
 Daniel Burnham, 
 Austin Burnham, 
 Samuel Burnham, 
 Andrew Burnham. 
 Ira Burnham, 
 John Burnham, 
 Nathan Burnham, 3d. 
 Jacob Burnham, 3d. 
 Susan E. Burnham, 
 Osmond Burnham, 
 William F. Burnham, 
 Susan Burnham, 
 Hervey Burnham, 
 Nathaniel Burnham, Jr. 
 Nathaniel Burnham, 
 Albert S. Burnham, 
 Jonathan Burnham, 
 Ira O. Burnham, 
 Ezra Burnham, 
 Obed Burnham, 2d, 
 
 No. Copies. 
 
No. Copies. 
 
 Talvin Burnham, 
 
 Mary H. Burnham, 
 
 John F. Burnham, 
 
 Obed Burnham, 
 
 Sally Burnham, 
 
 Abraham Burnham, 
 
 John C. Burnham, 
 
 Noah Burnham, 
 
 OniM iimnli; m, 
 
 Zaccheus Burnham, 
 
 J. A. Bradford, Esq. 
 
 Adam Boyd, 
 
 Joel Boyd, 
 
 Henry V. Buskirk, 
 
 Charles W. Brown. 
 
 Hon. David Choate, 5 
 
 Henry C. Cogswell, 2 
 
 Caleb Cogswell, 2 
 
 Francis Cogswell, 
 
 H C.Cogswell, 2 
 
 Benjamin Courtney, 
 
 George Cogswell, 
 
 John Choate, 2 
 
 Joseph Choate, 2 
 
 Lucretia Choate, 4 
 
 Albert Cogswell, 3 
 
 ] )hiius Cogswell, 2 
 
 Charles P. Crocket 
 
 Mary Choate, 4 
 
 George C. Claiborne, 
 
 Addison Cogswell, 
 
 John P Choate, 2 
 
 David Choate, Jr. 
 
 Edward P. Crowell, 
 
 Rufus Choate, 
 
 George Choate, M. D. Salem, 1 
 
 George F. Choate, Esq. do. 2 
 
 Francis Choate, do. 3 
 
 Rufus Choate, L. L. D. Boston 20 
 
 John D. Cross, Ipswich, 
 
 Grover Dodge, 3 
 
 Nehemiah Dodge, 2 
 
 James McDonell, 
 
 Angus McDonell, 
 
 Sylvester Dade, 
 
 Charles Dexter, Boston, 
 
 Henry Dunkenson, 
 
 Plii lemon S. Eveleth, 
 
 p]dward Eveleth, 
 
 A. J. Frisbee, 
 
 J. H. Frisbee, 
 
 Charles H. Field, 
 
 E. B. Fuller, 
 
 Thomas Foster, 
 
 Abel Goodhue, 
 
 Jeremiah Goodhue, Jr. 
 
 William J. Gilbert, 
 
 Caleb S. Gage, 
 
 Benjamin Goodhue, 
 
 Francis Goodhue, 
 
 E. K. Goldsmith, 
 
 John Hardy, 
 
 Andrew Howes, 
 
 Charles Howes, 
 
 Luther Hayden, 
 
 Enoch Haskell, 
 
 Caleb Haskell, 
 
 George Haskell^ 
 
 Thomas Haskell, Gloucester, 
 
 Luther D. Haskell, do. 
 
 Samuel Haskell, 
 
 Thomas A. Holmes, 
 
 Henry Hobbs, 
 
 John Horsfield, 
 
 J. W. Johnson. 
 
 Abraham Jones, 
 
 Mary J. Kn owl ton, 
 
 Washington McKenzIe, 
 
 Jacob McKenzie, 
 
 Winthrop Low, 
 
 James O. Low, 
 
 David Lo\v, Jr. 
 
 William Low, 
 
 Warren Low, 
 
 Jonathan Low, 
 
 Nathaniel Loveland, 
 
 J. W. Lufkin, ^ 
 
 Jonathan Lufkin, Jr. 
 
 Zaccheus Lee, 
 
 Jonathan Lufkin, 
 
 No. Copies. 
 5 
 
No. Copi( 
 
 Josiali Lamsou, M. D. 2 
 
 William F. Riggs, 
 
 E. K. Lakeman, Salem, 
 
 E. L. Robinson, 
 
 Gilman Low, Boston, IG 
 
 Jacob K. Roberts, 
 
 John Mears, 2 
 
 Daniel Raymond, 
 
 John Mears, Jr.* 
 
 J. Perkins Spofford, 
 
 David Mears, 
 
 Norman Story, 
 
 Samuel Mears, Jr. 
 
 George Story, 
 
 William Marshall, 2 
 
 Aaron Story, 
 
 Joseph Marshall, 
 
 Adoniram Story, 
 
 William H. ]\Iear?, 
 
 Asa Story, 
 
 William Marshal], Jr. 
 
 Enoch Story, 
 
 Joseph M. Marshall, 
 
 David A. Story, 
 
 Samuel Morse, Jr. 
 
 Charles Story, 
 
 Henry Mears, 
 
 Andrew Story, 
 
 Susan F. Norton, 
 
 Albert Story, 
 
 John G. Nichols, 
 
 Ira Story, 
 
 Daniel Norton, 
 
 Elisha Story, 
 
 Geor<_re Norton, 
 
 Susanna Storv, 
 
 Jolm Perkins, 
 
 W.H.Story,' 
 
 Kev. John Prince, 
 
 David Story, 
 
 David Perkins, 
 
 Susan Story, 
 
 John Pierce, 
 
 Noah Story, 
 
 Ezra Perkins, Esq'r. 
 
 Hcrvey Story, 
 
 Abraham Perkins, 2 
 
 James F. Story, 
 
 1-Ion. Jonathan C. Perkins, Salem, 
 
 Emri Story, 
 
 Lemuel Pearson, Jr. 
 
 George W. Story, 
 
 Daniel Poland, 
 
 Stephen Spragg, 
 
 Harriet E. Proctor, 
 
 W. J. Synett, 
 
 David Preston, Jr. 
 
 Perkins Story, 
 
 Micliael Proctor, 
 
 0. PI. P. Sargent, 
 
 M. B. Perkins, 2 
 
 James Sutherland, 
 
 AVilliam H. Perkins, 
 
 William H. Sargent, 
 
 Edward P. Potter, 
 
 U. G. Spofford, 
 
 William J. Rust, 
 
 Ebenezer Stanwood, 
 
 George Riggs, 
 
 Calvin Whipple, 
 
 Azuby A. Roberts, ' 
 
 James E. Woodman. 
 
 No. Copies. 
 
J 928 
 
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
 014 069 663 8 
 
 
 
 (i'i) 
 
 mi[ 
 
 lii 
 
 
 i 
 
 mii 
 
 ■/ !•• 
 
 ii;iifi 
 
 !(t!!(l !' 
 
 !!!i 
 
 'ia 
 
 i'.'til 
 
 !fi(! 
 
 m 
 
 ■mm 
 
 liiiii 
 
 ^;:i; 
 
 {;!{'« 
 
 , iJ!J 
 
 lllHll