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THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND
OR THE PURITAN THEOCRACY IN
ITS RELATIONS TO CIVIL
AND RELIGIOUS
LIBERTY

JOHN FISKE

" The Lord Christ intends to achieve greater matters
by this little handful than the world is aware of." —
Edward Johnson, Wonder~ Working Providence of
Zion's Saviour in New England. 1654.

BOSTON AND NEW YORK
HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY
(Cfje Kitoerjnbe #rerf& «Tamferib0e
1896

Copyright, 1889,
By JOHN FISKE.
All rights reserved.

Ca6>.4-£?

FIFTEENTH THOUSAND.

The Riverside Press, Cambridge, Mass., U. S. A.
Electrotyped and Printed by H. 0. Houghton & Company.

To
MT DEAR CLASSMATES,
BENJAMIN THOMPSON FROTHINGHAM,
WILLIAM AUGUSTUS WHITE,
AND
FREDERIC CROMWELL,
31 Ue&icate tljij* 3Sooft.

PREFACE.

This book contains the substance of the lectures
originally given at the Washington University, St.
Louis, in May, 1887, in the course of my annual
visit to that institution as University Professor of
American History. The lectures were repeated in
the following month of June at Portland, Oregon,
and since then either the whole course, or one or
more of the lectures, have been given in Boston,
Newton, Milton, Chelsea, New Bedford, Lowell,
Worcester, Springfield, and Pittsfield, Mass. ;
Farmington, Middletown, and Stamford, Conn. ;
New York, Brooklyn, and Tarrytown, N. Y. ; Phil
adelphia and Ogontz, Pa. ; Wilmington, Del. ;
Chicago, 111. ; San Francisco and Oakland, Cal.
In this sketch of the circumstances which at
tended the settlement of New England, I have pur
posely omitted many details which in a formal
history of that period would need to be included.
It has been my aim to give the outline of such a
narrative as to indicate the principles at work in
the history of New England down to the Revolu-

vi PREFACE.
tion of 1689. When I was writing the lectures I
had just been reading, with much interest, the
work of my former pupil, Mr. Brooks Adams, en
titled " The Emancipation of Massachusetts."
With the specific conclusions set forth in that book
I found myself often agreeing, but it seemed to me
that the general aspect of the case would be con
siderably modified and perhaps somewhat more
adequately presented by enlarging the field of view.
In forming historical judgments a great deal de
pends upon our perspective. Out of the very im
perfect human nature which is so slowly and pain
fully casting off the original sin of its inheritance
from primeval savagery, it is scarcely possible in
any age to get a result which will look quite satis
factory to the men of a riper and more enlightened
age. Fortunately we can learn something from the
stumblings of our forefathers, and a good many
things seem quite clear to us to-day which two
centuries ago were only beginning to be dimly dis
cerned by a few of the keenest and boldest spirits.
The faults of the Puritan theocracy, which found
its most complete development in Massachusetts,
are so glaring that it is idle to seek to palliate them
or to explain them away. But if we would really
understand what was going on in the Puritan world
of the seventeenth century, and how a better state
of things has grown out of it, we must endeavour to
distinguish and define the elements of wholesome

PREFACE. vu
strength in that theocracy no less than its elements
of crudity and weakness.
The first chapter, on " The Roman Idea and the
English Idea," contains a somewhat more devel
oped statement of the points briefly indicated in
the thirteenth section (pp. 85-95) of " The Des
tiny of Man." As all of the present book, except
the first chapter, was written here under the shadow
of the Washington University, I take pleasure in
dating it from this charming and hospitable city
where I have passed some of the most delightful
hours of my life.
St. Louis, April 15, 1S89.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.
THE KOMAN IDEA AND THE ENGLISH IDEA. Paoe
When did the Roman Empire come to an end ? . . . 1-3
Meaning of Odovakar's work  3
The Holy Roman Empire  4, 5
Gradual shifting of primacy from the men who spoke Latin,
and their descendants, to the men who speak English . 6-8
Political history is the history of nation-making . . . 8, 9
The Oriental method of nation-making ; conquest without
incorporation .  9
Illustrations from eastern despotisms . . . . .10
And from the Moors in Spain . .... 11
The Roman method of nation-making ; conquest with incor
poration, but without representation . . . . .12
Its slow development ........ 13
Vices in the Roman system ...... 14
Its fundamental defect ........ 15
It knew nothing of political power delegated by the people
to representatives  . .16
And therefore the expansion of its dominion ended in a cen
tralized despotism ........ 16
Wliich entailed the danger that human life might come to
stagnate in Europe, as it had done in Asia . . . .17
The danger was warded off by the Germanic invasions, which,
however, threatened to undo the work which the Empire
had done in organizing European society . . . .17
But such disintegration was prevented by the sway which
the Roman Church had come to exercise over the European
mind ........... 18
The wonderful thirteenth century  19
The English method of nation-making ; incorporation with
representation ......... 20

x CONTENTS.
Pacific tendencies of federalism  21
Failure of Greek attempts at federation . . . .22
Fallacy of the notion that republics must he small . . 23
"It is not the business of a government to support its peo
ple, but of the people to support their government " .24
Teutonic March-meetings and representative assemblies . 25
Peculiarity of the Teutonic conquest of Britain . . 26, 27
Survival and development of the Teutonic representative
assembly in England ........ 28
Primitive Teutonic institutions less modified in England than
in Germany. ......... 29
Some effects of the Norman conquest of England . . 30
The Barons' War and the first House of Commons . . 31
Eternal vigilance is the price of liberty . . .32
Conflict between Roman Idea and English Idea begins to be
come clearly visible in the thirteenth century . . .33
Decline of mediaeval Empire and Church with the growth of
modern nationalities ........ 34
Overthrow of feudalism, and increasing power of the crown 35
Formidable strength of the Roman Idea . . . .36
Had it not been for the Puritans, political liberty would
probably have disappeared from the world . . .37
Beginnings of Protestantism in the thirteenth century . . 38
The Cathari, or Puritans of the Eastern Empire . 39
The Albigenses ........ 40
Effects of persecution ; its feebleness in England . . .41
Wyclif and the Lollards  42
Political character of Henry VIII.'s revolt against Rome . 43
The yeoman Hugh Latimer . ..... 44
The moment of Cromwell's triumph was the most critical
moment in history . . .... 45
Contrast with France ; fate of the Huguenots . . 46, 47
Victory of the English Idea ....... 48
Significance of the Puritan Exodus  49
CHAPTER II.
THE PURITAN EXODUS.
Influence of Puritanism upon modern Europe . . 50, 51
Work of the Lollards  52
They made the Bible the first truly popular literature in
England  ... 53, 54
The English version of the Bible  54 55

CONTENTS. xi
Secret of Henry VIII.'s swift success in his revolt against
Rome ........... 56
Effects of the persecution under Mary . . . . .57
Calvin's theology in its political bearings . . . 58, 59
Elizabeth's policy and its effects  60, 61
Puritan sea-rovers  61
Geographical distribution of Puritanism in England ; it was
strongest in the eastern counties . . . .62
Preponderance of East Anglia in the Puritan exodus . . 63
Familiar features of East Anglia to the visitor from New
England . ........ 64
Puritanism was not intentionally allied with liberalism . 65
Robert Brown and the Separatists . . . . . G6
Persecution of the Separatists ...... 67
Recantation of Brown ; it was reserved for William Brewster
to take the lead in the Puritan exodus ... .68
James Stuart, and his encounter with Andrew Melville . 69
What James intended to do when he became King of England 70
His view of the political situation, as declared in the confer
ence at Hampton Court ....... 71
The congregation of Separatists at Scrooby . . . .72
The flight to Holland, and settlement at Leyden in 1609 . 73
Systematic legal toleration in Holland . . . .74
Why the Pilgrims did not stay there ; they wished to keep
up their distinct organization and found a state . . 74
And to do this they must cross the ocean, because European
territory was all preoccupied  75
The London and Plymouth companies  75
First explorations of the New England coast ; Bartholomew
Gosnold (1602), and George Weymouth (1605) . . 76
The Popham colony (1607)  77
Captain John Smith gives to New England its name (1614) . 78
The Pilgrims at Leyden decide to make a settlement near
the Delaware river  79
How King James regarded the enterprise . . . .80
Voyage of the Mayflower ; she goes astray and takes the Pil
grims to Cape Cod hay . . ...... 81
Founding of the Plymouth colony (1620) ... 82, 83
Why the Indians did not molest the settlers . . 84, 85
The chief interest of this beginning of the Puritan exodus lies
not so much in what it achieved as in what it suggested 86, 87

xn CONTENTS.
CHAPTER III.
THE PLANTING OF NEW ENGLAND.
Sir Ferdinando Gorges and the Council for New England 88, 89
Wessagusset and Merrymount ..... 90, 91
The Dorchester adventurers ....... 92
John White wishes to " raise a bulwark against the Kingdom
of Antichrist ......... 93
And John Endicott undertakes the work of building it . .94
Conflicting grants sow seeds of trouble ; the Gorges and Ma
son claims  94, 95
Endicott's arrival in New England, and the founding of Salem 95
The Company of Massachusetts Bay ; Francis Higginson
takes a powerful reinforcement to Salem . . . .96
The development of John White's enterprise into the Com
pany of Massachusetts Bay coincided with the first four
years of the reign of Charles I. . . . . . .97
Extraordinary scene in the House of Commons (June 5,
1628)  98, 99
The King turns Parliament out of doors (March 2, 1629) . 100
Desperate nature of the crisis  100, 101
The meeting at Cambridge (Aug. 26, 1629), and decision to
transfer the charter of the Massachusetts Bay Company,
and the government established under it, to New England . 102
Leaders of the great migration ; John Winthrop . . . 102
And Thomas Dudley  103
Founding of Massachusetts ; the schemes of Gorges over
whelmed  104
Beginnings of American constitutional history ; the question
as to self-government raised at Watertown . . . 105
Representative system established  106
Bicameral assembly ; story of the stray pig .... 107
Ecclesiastical polity ; the triumph of Separatism . . . 108
Restriction of the suffrage to members of the Puritan con
gregational churches  109
Founding of Harvard College  110
Threefold danger to the New England settlers in 1636 : —
1. From the King, who prepares to attack the charter, but
is foiled by dissensions at home .... 111-113
2. From religious dissensions ; Roger Williams . 114-116
Henry Vane and Anne Hutchinson .... 116-119
Beginnings of New Hampshire and Rhode Island . 119-120

CONTENTS. xiii
3. From the Indians ; the Pequot supremacy . . . 121
First movements into the Connecticut valley, and disputes
with the Dutch settlers of New Amsterdam . . 122, 123
Restriction of the suffrage leads to disaffection in Massachu
setts ; profoundly interesting opinions of Winthrop and
Hooker  123, 124
Connecticut pioneers and their hardships .... 125
Thomas Hooker, and the founding of Connecticut . . 126
The Fundamental Orders of Connecticut (Jan. 14, 1639) ;
the first written constitution that created a government . 127
Relations of Connecticut to the genesis of the Federal
Union  128
Origin of the Pequot War ; Sassacus tries to unite the Indian
tribes in a crusade against the English . . . 129, 130
The schemes of Sassacus are foiled by Roger Williams . 130
The Pequots take the war path alone  131
And are exterminated  132-134
John Davenport, and the founding of New Haven . . 135
New Haven legislation, and legend of the " Blue Laws " . 136
With the meeting of the Long Parliament, in 1640, the
Puritan exodus comes to its end ..... 137
What might have been  138, 391

CHAPTER IV.
THE NEW ENGLAND CONFEDERACY.
The Puritan exodus was purely and exclusively English . 140
And the settlers were all thrifty and prosperous ; chiefly
country squires and yeomanry of the best and sturdiest
type  141, 142
In all history there has been no other instance of colonization
so exclusively effected by picked and chosen men . . 143
What, then, was the principle of selection ? The migration
was not intended to promote what we call religious
liberty  144, 145
Theocratic ideal of the Puritans ...... 146
The impulse which sought to realize itself in the Puritan
ideal was an ethical impulse ...... 147
In interpreting Scripture, the Puritan appealed to his
reason  148, 149
Value of such perpetual theological discussion as was car
ried on in early New England  150, 151

xiv CONTENTS.
Comparison with the history of Scotland .... 152
Bearing of these considerations upon the history of the New
England confederacy ........ 153
The existence of so many colonies (Plymouth, Massachu
setts, Connecticut, New Haven, Rhode Island, the Pis
cataqua towns, etc.) was due to differences of opinion on
questions in which men's religious ideas were involved 154
And this multiplication of colonies led to a notable and sig
nificant attempt at confederation .... 155
Turbulence of dissent in Rhode Island .... 156
The Earl of Warwick, and his Board of Commissioners . 157
Constitution of the Confederacy ...... 158
It was only a league, not a federal union .... 159
Its formation involved a tacit assumption of sovereignty . 160
The fall of Charles I. brought up, for a moment, the ques
tion as to the supremacy of Parliament over the colonies . 161
Some interesting questions ....... 162
Genesis of the persecuting spirit ...... 163
Samuel Gorton and his opinions ..... 163-165
He flees to Aquedneck and is banished thence . . . 166
Providence protests against him ...... 167
He flees to Shawomet, where he buys land of the Indians . 168
Miantonomo and Uneas  169, 170
Death of Miantonomo ........ 171
Edward Johnson leads an expedition against Shawomet . 172
Trial and sentence of the heretics  173
Winthrop declares himself in a prophetic opinion . . . 174
The Presbyterian cabal  175-177
The Cambridge Platform ; deaths of Wmthrop and Cotton . 177
Views of Winthrop and Cotton as to toleration in matters of
religion .......... 178
After their death, the leadership in Massachusetts was in the
hands of Endicott and Norton  179
The Quakers ; their opinions and behavior . . . 179-181
Violent manifestations of dissent ...... 182
Anne Austin and Mary Fisher ; how they were received in
Boston ........ 183
The confederated colonies seek to expel the Quakers ; noble
attitude of Rhode Island ....... 184
Roger Williams appeals to his friend, Oliver Cromwell . 185
The " heavenly speech " of Sir Harry Vane . . . .185
Laws passed against the Quakers ...... 186
How the death penalty was regarded at that time in New
England •••....... 187

CONTENTS. xv
Executions of Quakers on Boston Common . . . 188, 189
Wenlock Christison's defiance and victory . . . 189, 190
The "King's Missive"  191
Why Charles II. interfered to protect the Quakers . . 191
His hostile feeling toward the New England governments . 192
The regicide judges, Goffe and Whalley . . . 193, 194
New Haven annexed to Connecticut
Abraham Pierson, and the founding of Newark
Breaking-down of the theocratic policy
Weakening of the Confederacy

194, 195
. 196

197 108

CHAPTER V.

KING PHILIP'S WAR.

Relations between the Puritan settlers and the Indians . . 199
Trade with the Indians  200
Missionary work ; Thomas Mayhew ..... 201
John Eliot and his translation of the Bible .... 202
His preaching to the Indians ....... 203
His villages of Christian Indians ...... 204
The Puritan's intention was to deal gently and honourably
with the red men  205
Why Pennsylvania was so long unmolested by the Indians, 205, 206
Difficulty of the situation in New England .... 207
It is hard for the savage and the civilized man to understand
one another  208
How Eliot's designs must inevitably have been misinter
preted by the Indians  . . 209
It is remarkable that peace should have been so long pre
served  210
Deaths of Massasoit and his son Alexander . . . .211
Very little is known about the nature of Philip's designs . 212
The meeting at Taunton  213
Sausamon informs against Philip  213
And is murdered .  ¦ 214
Massacres at Swanzey and Dartmouth  214
Murder of Captain Hutchinson  215
Attack on Brookfield, which is relieved by Simon Willard . 216
Fighting in the Connecticut valley ; the mysterious stranger
at Hadley  217, 218
Ambuscade at Bloody Brook  219
Popular excitement in Boston  220

xvi CONTENTS.
The Narragansetts prepare to take the war-path . . . 221
And Governor Winslow leads an army against them . 222, 223
Storming of the great swamp fortress  224
Slaughter of the Indians  225
Effect of the blow  226
Growth of the humane sentiment in recent times, due to the
fact that the horrors of war are seldom brought home to
everybody's door . . • • 227, 228
Warfare with savages is likely to be truculent in character . 229
Attack upon Lancaster . ...... ^30
Mrs. Rowlandson's narrative . .... 231-233
Virtual extermination of the Indians (February to Au
gust, 1676)  233, 234
Death of Canonchet  234
Philip pursued by Captain Church  235
Death of Philip  236
Indians sold into slavery ....... 237
Conduct of the Christian Indians  238
War with the Tarratines ....... 239
Frightful destruction of life and property .... 240
Henceforth the red man figures no more in the history of
New England, except in frontier raids under French guid
ance  241
CHAPTER VI.
THE TYRANNY OF ANDROS.
Romantic features in the early history of New England . 242
Captain Edward Johnson, of Woburn, and his book on ' ' The
Wonder-working Providence of Zion's Saviour in New
England"  243,244
Acts of the Puritans often judged by an unreal and impos
sible standard ......... 245
Spirit of the " Wonder-working Providence " . . .246
Merits and faults of the Puritan theocracy .... 247
Restriction of the suffrage to church members . . . 248
It was a source of political discontent  249
Inquisitorial administration of justice  250
The " Half way Covenant "  251
Founding of the Old South church  252
Unfriendly relations between Charles II. and Massachu
setts  253
Complaints against Massachusetts  254

CONTENTS. xvu
The Lords of Trade  255
Arrival of Edward Randolph in Boston . . . 256
Joseph Dudley and the beginnings of Toryism in New Eng
land  257, 258
Charles II. erects the four Piscataqua towns into the royal
province of New Hampshire .... . 259
And quarrels with Massachusetts over the settlement of the
Gorges claim to the Maine district ..... 260
. 261
. 262
. 263
. 264

Simon Bradstreet and his verse-making wife .
Massachusetts answers the king's peremptory message
Secret treaty between Charles II. and Louis XIV.
Shameful proceedings in England .
Massachusetts refuses to surrender her charter ; and accord
ingly it is annulled by decree of chancery, June 21, 1684 . 265
Effect of annulling the charter ..... 266
Death of Charles II., accession of James II., and appoint
ment of Sir Edmund Andros as viceroy over New England,
with despotic powers .... ... 267
The charter oak  268
Episcopal services in Boston  268, 269
Founding of the King's Chapel . . . . ' . . 269
The tyranny .......... 270
John Wise of Ipswich  271
FaU of James II  271
Insurrection in Boston, and overthrow of Andros . . . 272
Effects of the Revolution of 1689  273
Need for union among all the northern colonies . . . 274
Plymouth, Maine, and Acadia annexed to Massachusetts . 275
Which becomes a royal province . . ... 276
And is thus brought into political sympathy with Virginia . 276
The seeds of the American Revolution were already sown,
and the spirit of 1776 was foreshadowed in 1689 . 277, 278

THE
BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.

CHAPTER I.
THE ROMAN IDEA AND THE ENGLISH IDEA.
It used to be the fashion of historians, looking
superficially at the facts presented in chronicles
and tables of dates, without analyzing and compar
ing vast groups of facts distributed through cen
turies, or even suspecting the need for such analy
sis and comparison, to assign the date 476 A. d. as
the moment at which the Roman Empire came to
an end. It was in that year that the soldier of for
tune, Odovakar, commander of the Herulian mer
cenaries in Italy, sent the handsome boy Romulus,
son of Orestes, better known as " little Augustus,"
from his imperial throne to the splendid villa of
Lucullus near Naples, and gave him a yearly pen
sion of $35,000 [6,000 solidi] to console him for
the loss of a world. As 324 years elapsed before
another emperor was crowned at Rome, when aid the
and as the political headship of Europe ph-e'come'to
after that happy restoration remained
upon the German soil to which the events of the
eighth century had shifted it, nothing could seem

2 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
more natural than the habit which historians once
had, of saying that the mighty career of Rome had
ended, as it had begun, with a Romulus. Some
times the date 476 was even set up as a great land
mark dividing modern from ancient history. For
those, however, who took such a view, it was impos
sible to see the events of the Middle Ages in their
true relations to. what went before and what came
after. It was impossible to understand what went
on in Italy in the sixth century, or to explain the
position of that great Roman power which had its
centre on the Bosphorus, which in the code of Jus
tinian left us our grandest monument of Roman
law, and which for a thousand years was the
staunch bulwark of Europe against the successive
aggressions of Persian, Saracen, and Turk. It was
equally impossible to understand the rise of the
Papal power, the all-important politics of the great
Saxon and Swabian emperors, the relations of me
diaeval England to the Continental powers, or the
marvellously interesting growth of the modern Eu
ropean system of nationalities.
Since the middle of the nineteenth century the
study of history has undergone changes no less
sweeping than those which have in the same time
affected the study of the physical sciences. Vast
groups of facts distributed through various ages
and countries have been subjected to comparison
and analysis, with the result that they have not
only thrown fresh light upon one another, but have
in many cases enabled us to recover historic points
of view that had long been buried in oblivion.
Such an instance was furnished about twenty-five

ROMAN IDEA AND ENGLISH IDEA. 3
years ago by Dr. Bryce's epoch-making work on
the Holy Roman Empire. Since then historians
still recognize the importance of the date
. 1 t^ Meaning of
476 as that which left the Bishop of oaovakar'a
x work.
Rome the dominant personage in Italy,
and marked the shifting of the political centre of
gravity from the Palatine to the Lateran. This
was one of those subtle changes which escape notice
until after some of their effects have attracted atten
tion. The most important effect, in this instance,
realized after three centuries, was not the overthrow
of Roman power in the West, but its indefinite ex
tension and expansion. The men of 476 not only
had no idea that they were entering upon a new era,
but least of all did they dream that the Roman Em
pire had come to an end, or was ever likely to. Its
cities might be pillaged, its provinces overrun, but
the supreme imperial power itself was something
without which the men of those days could not im
agine the world as existing. It must have its di
vinely ordained representative in one place if not
in another. If the throne in Italy was vacant, it
was no more than had happened before ; there was
still a throne at Constantinople, and to its occupant
Zeno the Roman Senate sent a message, saying
that one emperor was enough for both ends of the
earth, and begging him to confer upon the gallant
Odovakar the title of patrician, and entrust the af
fairs of Italy to his care. So when Sicambrian
Chlodwig set up his Merovingian kingdom in north
ern Gaul, he was glad to array himself in the robe
of a Roman consul, and obtain from the eastern
emperor a formal ratification of his rule.

4 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
Countless examples show that the event of 476
was understood as the virtual reunion of West and
East under a single head; whereas, on the other
hand, the impressive scene in the basilica of St.
Peter's on the Christmas of 800, when Pope Leo
III. placed the diadem of the Cassars upon the
Frankish brow of Charles the Great, was regarded,
not as the restoration of an empire once extin
guished, but as a new separation between East and
West, a re-transfer of the world's political centre
from the Bosphorus to the Tiber. When after two
The Holy no- centuries more the sceptre had passed
man Empire. frQm the Hne of prankish Charles to the
line of Saxon Otto, this Holy Roman Empire,
shaped by the alliance of German king with Italian
pontiff, acquired such consistency as to outlast the
whole group of political conditions in which it
originated. These conditions endured for five
centuries after the coronation in 800 ; the empire
preserved a continuous existence for yet five cen
turies more. Until after the downfall of the great
Hohenstauffen emperors, late in the thirteenth
century, soon followed by the Babylonish exile of
the popes at Avignon, the men of western Europe
felt themselves in a certain sense members of a
political whole of which Rome was the centre. By
the beginning of the sixteenth century this feeling
had almost disappeared. Men's world had en
larged till Rome no longer seemed so great to
them as it had seemed to their forefathers who had
lived under its mighty spell, or as it seems to us
who view it through the lenses of history. Within
its own imperial domains powerful nations had

ROMAN IDEA AND ENGLISH IDEA. 5
slowly grown up, whose speech would have sounded
strange to Cicero ; while beyond ocean were found
new lands where the name of Csesar had never been
heard. By the side of Louis XII. or Ferdinand
of Aragon, it was not easy to recognize a grander
dignity in the Hapsburg successor of Augustus ;
and the mutterings of revolt against papal su
premacy already heralded the storm which was
soon to rend all Christendom in twain. After the
Reformation, the conception of a universal Chris
tian monarchy, as held whether by St. Augustine
or by Dante, had ceased to have a meaning and
faded from men's memories. Yet in its forms and
titles the Holy Roman Empire continued to sur
vive, until, as Voltaire said, it had come to be
neither holy, nor Roman, nor an empire. So long
did it remain upon the scene that in 1790 an illus
trious American philosopher, Benjamin Thompson,
a native of Woburn in Massachusetts and some
time dweller in Rumford, New Hampshire, was
admitted to a share in its dignities as Count Rum
ford. When at length in 1806, among the sweep
ing changes wrought by the battle of Austerlitz,
the Emperor Francis II. resigned his position as
head of the Germanic body, there were perhaps
few who could have told why that head should
have been called emperor rather than king ; fewer
still, no doubt, who realized that the long succes
sion of Caesars had now first come to an end.
I cite this final date of 1806 as interesting, but
not as important, in connection with a political
system which had already quite ceased to exist,
save in so far as one might say that the spirit of it

6 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
still survives in political methods and habits of
thought that will yet be long in dying out. With
great political systems, as with typical forms of or
ganic life, the processes of development and of ex
tinction are exceedingly slow, and it is seldom that
the stages can be sharply marked by dates. The
Gradual shift- processes which have gradually shifted
f??m the men7 the seat of empire until the prominent
Ltinfand part played nineteen centuries ago by
their descend- -r, l a l i ¦ '1 ¦ i
ants, to the Rome and Alexandria, on opposite sides
Bpeak English, of the Mediterranean, has been at length
assumed by London and New York, on opposite
sides of the Atlantic, form a most interesting sub
ject of study. But to understand them, one must
do much more than merely catalogue the facts of
political history ; one must acquire a knowledge of
the drifts and tendencies of human thought and
feeling and action from the earliest ages to the
times in which we live. In covering so wide a field
we cannot of course expect to obtain anything like
complete results. In order to make a statement
simple enough to be generally intelligible, it is
necessary to pass over many circumstances and
many considerations that might in one way and
another qualify what we have to say. Neverthe
less it is quite possible for us to discern, in their
bold general outlines, some historic truths of su
preme importance. In contemplating the salient
features of the change which has now for a long
time been making the world more English and less
Roman, we shall find not only intellectual pleasure
and profit but practical guidance. For in order to
understand this slow but mighty change, we must

ROMAN IDEA AND ENGLISH IDEA. 7
look a little into that process of nation-making
which has been going on since prehistoric ages and
is going on here among us to-day, and from the re
corded experience of men in times long past we
may gather lessons of infinite value for ourselves
and for our children's children. As in all the
achievements of mankind it is only after much
weary experiment and many a heart-sickening fail
ure that success is attained, so has it been espe
cially with nation-making. Skill in the political
art is the fruit of ages of intellectual and moral
discipline ; and just as picture-writing had to come
before printing and canoes before steamboats, so
the cruder political methods had to be tried and
found wanting, amid the tears and groans of un
numbered generations, before methods less crude
could be put into operation. In the historic sur
vey upon which we are now to enter, we shall see
that the Roman Empire represented a crude
method of nation-making which began with a mas
terful career of triumph over earlier and cruder
methods, but has now for several centuries been
giving way before a more potent and satisfactory
method. And just as the merest glance at the his
tory of Europe shows us Germanic peoples wrest
ing the supremacy from Rome, so in this deeper
study we shall discover a grand and far-reaching
Teutonic Idea of political life overthrowing and
supplanting the Roman Idea. Our attention will
be drawn toward England as the battle-ground and
the seventeenth century as the critical moment of
the struggle ; we shall see in Puritanism the tre
mendous militant force that determined the issue ;

8 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
and when our perspective has thus become properly
adjusted, we shall begin to realize for the first time
how truly wonderful was the age that witnessed
the Beginnings of New England. We have long
had before our minds the colossal figure of Roman
Julius as " the foremost man of all this world,"
but as the seventeenth century recedes into the
past the figure of English Oliver begins to loom
up as perhaps even more colossal. In order to
see these world-events in their true perspective,
and to make perfectly clear the manner in which
we are to estimate them, we must go a long dis
tance away from them. We must even go back,
as nearly as may be, to the beginning of things.
If we look back for a moment to the primitive
stages of society, we may picture to ourselves the
surface of the earth sparsely and scantily cov
ered with wandering tribes of savages, rude in
morals and manners, narrow and monotonous in
experience, sustaining life very much as lower ani
mals sustain it, by gathering wild fruits or slaying
wild game, and waging chronic warfare alike with
powerful beasts and with rival tribes of men. In
Political Ms- *ne widest sense the subject of political
tCr^o^'natton- history is the description of the pro-
making. cesses by which, under favourable cir
cumstances, innumerable such primitive tribes have
become welded together into mighty nations, with
elevated standards of morals and manners, with
wide and varied experience, sustaining life and min
istering to human happiness by elaborate arts and
sciences, and putting a curb upon warfare by limit
ing its scope, diminishing its cruelty, and interrupt-

ROMAN IDEA AND ENGLISH IDEA. 9
ing it by intervals of peace. The story, as laid
before us in the records of three thousand years,
is fascinating and absorbing in its human interest
for those who content themselves with the study of
its countless personal incidents, and neglect its pro
found philosophical lessons. But for those who
study it in the scientific spirit, the human interest
of its details becomes still more intensely fascinat
ing and absorbing. Battles and coronations, poems
and inventions, migrations and martyrdoms, ac
quire new meanings and awaken new emotions as
we begin to discern their bearings upon the solemn
work of ages that is slowly winning for humanity
a richer and more perfect life. By such meditation
upon men's thoughts and deeds is the understand
ing purified, till we become better able to compre
hend our relations to the world and the duty that
lies upon each of us to shape his conduct rightly.
In the welding together of primitive shifting
tribes into stable and powerful nations, we can
seem to discern three different methods that have
been followed at different times and places, with
widely different results. In all cases the fusion
has been effected by war, but it has gone on in
three broadly contrasted ways. The first of these
methods, which has been followed from time imme
morial in the Oriental world, may be
r j The Oriental
rousrhlv described as conquest without method of na-
o J a tion-making.
incorporation. A tribe grows to na
tional dimensions by conquering and annexing its
neighbours, without admitting them to a share in
its political life. Probably there is always at first
some incorporation, or even perhaps some crude

10 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
germ of federative alliance ; but this goes very lit
tle way, — only far enough to fuse together a few
closely related tribes, agreeing in speech and hab
its, into a single great tribe that can overwhelm its
neighbours. In early society this sort of incorpora
tion cannot go far without being stopped by some
impassable barrier of language or religion. After
reaching that point, the conquering tribe simply
annexes its neighbours and makes them its slaves.
It becomes a superior caste, ruling over vanquished
peoples, whom it oppresses with frightful cruelty,
while living on the fruits of their toil in what has
been aptly termed Oriental luxury. Such has been
the origin of many eastern despotisms, in the val
leys of the Nile and Euphrates, and elsewhere.
Such a political structure admits of a very con
siderable development of material civilization, in
which gorgeous palaces and artistic temples may
be built, and perhaps even literature and scholar
ship rewarded, with money wrung from millions
of toiling wretches. There is that sort of brutal
strength in it, that it may endure for many long
ages, until it comes into collision with some higher
civilization. Then it is likely to end in sudden
collapse, because the fighting quality of the people
has been destroyed. Populations that have lived
for centuries in fear of impalement or crucifixion,
and have known no other destination for the pro
ducts of their labour than the clutches of the omni
present tax-gatherer, are not likely to furnish good
soldiers. A handful of freemen will scatter them
like sheep, as the Greeks did twenty-three centu
ries ago at Kynaxa, as the English did the other

ROMAN IDEA AND ENGLISH IDEA. 11
day at Tel el-Kebir. On the other hand, where
the manliness of the vanquished people is not
crushed, the sway of the conquerors who cannot
enter into political union with them is likely to be
cast off, as in the case of the Moors in Spain.
There was a civilization in many respects admira
ble. It was eminent for industry, science, art, and
poetry ; its annals are full of romantic interest ;
it was in some respects superior to the Christian
system which supplanted it ; in many ways it con
tributed largely to the progress of the human race ;
and it was free from some of the worst vices of
Oriental civilizations. Yet because of the funda
mental defect that between the Christian Spaniard
and his Mussulman conqueror there could be no
political fusion, this brilliant civilization was
doomed. During eight centuries of more or less
extensive rule in the Spanish peninsula, the Moor
was from first to last an alien, just as after four
centuries the Turk is still an alien in the Balkan
peninsula. The natural result was a struggle that
lasted age after age till it ended in the utter ex
termination of one of the parties, and left behind
it a legacy of hatred and persecution that has
made the history of modern Spain a dismal record
of shame and disaster.
In this first method of nation - making, then,
which we may call the Oriental method, one now
sees but little to commend. It was better than
savagery, and for a long time no more efficient
method was possible, but the leading peoples of the
world have long since outgrown it ; and although
the resulting form of political government is the

12 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
oldest we know and is not yet extinct, it neverthe
less has not the elements of permanence. Sooner
or later it will disappear, as savagery is disappear
ing, as the rudest types of inchoate human society
have disappeared.
The second method by which nations have been
made may be called the Roman method ;
method of na- and we may briefly describe it as con-
tion-making. . . 7 . 7
quest with incorporation, but without
representation. The secret of Rome's wonderful
strength lay in the fact that she incorporated the
vanquished peoples into her own body politic. In
the early time there was a fusion of tribes going
on in Latium, which, if it had gone no further,
would have been similar to the early fusion of
Ionic tribes in Attika or of Iranian tribes in
Media. But whereas everywhere else this political
fusion soon stopped, in the Roman world it went
on. One after another Italian tribes and Italian
towns were not merely overcome but admitted to
a share in the political rights and privileges of the
victors. By the time this had gone on until the
whole Italian peninsula was consolidated under
the headship of Rome, the result was a power in
comparably greater than any other that the world
had yet seen. Never before had so many people
been brought under one government without mak
ing slaves of most of them. Liberty had existed
before, whether in barbaric tribes or in Greek cit
ies. Union had existed before, in Assyrian or
Persian despotisms. Now liberty and union were
for the first time joined together, with conse
quences enduring and stupendous. The whole

ROMAN IDEA AND ENGLISH IDEA. 13
Mediterranean world was brought under one gov
ernment ; ancient barriers of religion, speech, and
custom were overthrown in every direction ; and
innumerable barbarian tribes, from the Alps to the
wilds of northern Britain, from the Bay of Biscay
to the Carpathian mountains, were more or less
completely transformed into Roman citizens, pro
tected by Roman law, and sharing in the material
and spiritual benefits of Roman civilization. Grad
ually the whole vast structure became permeated
by Hellenic and Jewish thought, and thus were
laid the lasting foundations of modern society, of
a common Christendom, furnished with a common
stock of ideas concerning man's relation to God
and the world, and acknowledging a common
standard of right and wrong. This was a prodi
gious work, which raised human life to a much
higher plane than that which it had formerly occu
pied, and endless gratitude is due to the thousands
of steadfast men who in one way or another de
voted their lives to its accomplishment.
This Roman method of nation-making had nev
ertheless its fatal shortcomings, and it was only
very slowly, moreover, that it wrought its slow devei-
out its own best results. It was but
gradually that the rights and privileges of Roman
citizenship were extended over the whole Roman
world, and in the mean time there were numerous
instances where conquered provinces seemed des
tined to no better fate than had awaited the vic
tims of Egyptian or Assyrian conquest. The ra
pacity and cruelty of Caius Verres could hardly
have been outdone by the worst of Persian satraps ;

14 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
but there was a difference. A moral sense and
political sense had been awakened which could see
both the wickedness and the folly of such conduct.
The voice of a Cicero sounded with trumpet tones
against the oppressor, who was brought to trial
and exiled for deeds which under the Oriental sys
tem, from the days of Artaxerxes to those of the
Grand Turk, would scarcely have called forth a
reproving word. It was by slow degrees that the
Roman came to understand the virtues of his own
method, and learned to apply it consistently until
the people of all parts of the empire were, in theory
at least, equal before the law.
In theory, I say, for in point of fact there was
enough of viciousness in the Roman system to pre
vent it from achieving permanent success. His
torians have been fond of showing how the vitality
of the whole system was impaired by wholesale
slave-labour, by the false political economy which
taxes all for the benefit of a few, by the debauch
ing view of civil office which regards it as private
perquisite and not as public trust, and — worst of
all, perhaps — by the communistic practice of feed
ing an idle proletariat out of the imperial treasury.
The names of these deadly social evils are not un
familiar to American ears. Even of the last we
have heard ominous whispers in the shape of bills
to promote mendicancy under the specious guise of
fostering education or rewarding military services.
And is it not a striking illustration of the slowness
with which mankind learns the plainest rudiments
of wisdom and of justice, that only in the full light
of the nineteenth century, and at the cost of a ter-

ROMAN IDEA AND ENGLISH IDEA. 15
rible war, should the most intelligent people on
earth have got rid of a system of labour devised in
the crudest ages of antiquity and fraught with
misery to the employed, degradation to the employ
ers, and loss to everybody ?
These evils, we see, in one shape or another,
have existed almost everywhere ; and the vice of
the Roman system did not consist in Ita essential
the fact that under it they were fully defect'
developed, but in the fact that it had no adequate
means of overcoming them. Unless helped by
something supplied from outside the Roman world,
civilization must have succumbed to these evils,
the progress of mankind must have been stopped.
What was needed was the introduction of a fierce
spirit of personal liberty and local self-government.
The essential vice of the Roman system was that it
had been unable to avoid weakening the spirit of
personal independence and crushing out local self-
government among the peoples to whom it had
been applied. It owed its wonderful success to
joining Liberty with Union, but as it went on it
found itself compelled gradually to sacrifice Lib
erty to Union, strengthening the hands of the cen
tral government and enlarging its functions more
and more, until by and by the political life of the
several parts had so far died away that, under the
pressure of attack from without, the Union fell to
pieces and the whole political system had to be
slowly and painfully reconstructed.
Now if we ask why the Roman government found
itself thus obliged to sacrifice personal liberty and
local independence to the paramount necessity of

16 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
holding the empire together, the answer will point
us to the essential and fundamental vice of the
Roman method of nation-making. It lacked the
principle of representation. The old Roman world
knew nothing: of representative assem-
It knew noth- ° *
mgofrepre- blies. Its senates were assemblies of
sentation. , ,
notables, constituting in the mam an
aristocracy of men who had held high office ; its pop
ular assemblies were primary assemblies, — town-
meetings. There was no notion of such a thing as
political power delegated by the people to repre
sentatives who were to wield it away from home
and out of sight of their constituents. The Ro
man's only notion of delegated power was that of
authority delegated by the government to its gen
erals and prefects who discharged at a distance
its military and civil functions. When, therefore,
the Roman popular government, originally adapted
to a single city, had come to extend itself over a
large part of the world, it lacked the one institu
tion by means of which government could be car
ried on over so vast an area without degenerating
into despotism. Even could the device
ended in des- of representation have occurred to the
mind of some statesman trained in
Roman methods, it would probably have made no
difference. Nobody would have known how to use
it. You cannot invent an institution as you would
invent a plough. Such a notion as that of repre
sentative government must needs start from small
beginnings and grow in men's minds until it should
become part and parcel of their mental habits.
For the want of it the home government at Rome

ROMAN IDEA AND ENGLISH IDEA. 17
became more and more unmanageable until it fell
into the hands of the army, while at the same time
the administration of the empire became more and
more centralized ; the people of its various prov
inces, even while their social condition was in some
respects improved, had less and less voice in the
management of their local affairs, and thus the
spirit of personal independence was gradually
weakened. This centralization was greatly inten
sified by the perpetual danger of invasion on the
northern and eastern frontiers, all the way from
the Rhine to the Euphrates. Do what it would,
the government must become more and more a
military despotism, must revert toward the Ori
ental type. The period extending from the third
century before Christ to the third century after
was a period of extraordinary intellectual expan
sion and moral awakening ; but when we observe
the governmental changes introduced under the
emperor Diocletian at the very end of this period,
we realize how serious had been the political retro
gression, how grave the danger that the stream of
human life might come to stagnate in Europe, as
it had long since stagnated in Asia.
Two mighty agents, cooperating in their opposite
ways to prevent any such disaster, were already en
tering upon the scene. The first was the coloniza
tion of the empire by Germanic tribes already far
advanced beyond savagery, already somewhat tinc
tured with Roman civilization, yet at the same time
endowed with an intense spirit of personal and
local independence. With this wholesome spirit
they were about to refresh and revivify the empire,

18 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
but at the risk of undoing its work of political or
ganization and reducing it to barbarism. The sec
ond was the establishment of the Roman church,
The German an institution capable of holding Eu-
thrEomannd ropean society together in spite of a po-
chureh. Htical disintegration that was widespread
and long-continued. While wave after wave of
Germanic colonization poured over romanized Eu
rope, breaking down old boundary-lines and work
ing sudden and astonishing changes on the map,
setting up in every quarter baronies, dukedoms, and
kingdoms fermenting with vigorous political life ;
while for twenty generations this salutary but wild
and dangerous work was going on, there was never
a moment when the imperial sway of Rome was
quite set aside and forgotten, there was never a time
when union of some sort was not maintained through
the dominion which the church had established over
the European mind. When we duly consider this
great fact in its relations to what went before and
what came after, it is hard to find words fit to ex
press the debt of gratitude which modern civiliza
tion owes to the Roman Catholic church. When
we think of all the work, big with promise of the
future, that went on in those centuries which mod
ern writers in their ignorance used once to set apart
and stigmatize as the " Dark Ages " ; when we con
sider how the seeds of what is noblest in modern
life were then painfully sown upon the soil which
imperial Rome had prepared; when we think of
the various work of a Gregory, a Benedict, a
Boniface, an Alfred, a Charlemagne ; we feel that
there is a sense in which the most brilliant achieve-

ROMAN IDEA AND ENGLISH IDEA. 19
ments of pagan antiquity are dwarfed in compari
son with these. Until quite lately, indeed, the stu
dent of history has had his attention too narrowly
confined to the ages that have been preeminent for
literature and art — the so-called classical ages —
and thus his sense of historical perspective has
been impaired. When Mr. Freeman uses Gregory
of Tours as a text-book, he shows that he realizes
how an epoch may be none the less portentous
though it has not had a Tacitus to describe it, and
certainly no part of history is more full of human
interest than the troubled period in which the pow
erful streams of Teutonic life pouring into Roman
Europe were curbed in their destructiveness and
guided to noble ends by the Catholic church. Out
of the interaction between these two mighty agents
has come the political system of the modern world.
The moment when this interaction might have
seemed on the point of reaching a complete and
harmonious result was the glorious thir-
° ^ The wonder-
teenth century, the culminating; moment £ul thirteenth
•> ' ° century.
of the Holy Roman Empire. Then, as
in the times of Csesar or Trajan, there might have
seemed to be a union among civilized men, in which
the separate life of individuals and localities was
not submerged. In that golden age alike of feudal
system, of empire, and of church, there were to be
seen the greatest monarchs, in fullest sympathy
with their peoples, that Christendom has known, —
an Edward I., a St. Louis, a Frederick II. Then,
when in the pontificates of Innocent III. and his
successors the Roman church reached its apogee,
the religious yearnings of men sought expression

20 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
in the sublimest architecture the world has seen.
Then Aquinas summed up in his profound specula
tions the substance of Catholic theology, and while
the morning twilight of modern science might be
discerned in the treatises of Roger Bacon, while
wandering minstrelsy revealed the treasures of mod
ern speech, soon to be wrought under the hands of
Dante and Chaucer into forms of exquisite beauty,
the sacred fervour of the apostolic ages found itself
renewed in the tender and mystic piety of St. Fran
cis of Assisi. It was a wonderful time, but after
all less memorable as the culmination of mediaeval
empire and mediaeval church than as the dawning
of the new era in which we live to-day, and in
which the development of human society proceeds
in accordance with more potent methods than those
devised by the genius of pagan or Christian Rome.
For the origin of these more potent methods
we must look back to the early ages of the Teu
tonic people ; for their development and applica
tion on a grand scale we must look chiefly to the
history of that most Teutonic of peoples in its in
stitutions, though perhaps not more than half-Teu
tonic in blood, the English, with their descendants
in the New World. The third method of nation-
making may be called the Teutonic or preeminently
the English method. It differs from the Oriental
and Roman methods which we have been
""•f'od'ofna- considering in a feature of most pro-

The English
method of n
tion-makmg.

found significance ; it contains the prin
ciple of representation. For this reason, though
like all nation-making it was in its early stages
attended with war and conquest, it nevertheless

ROMAN IDEA AND ENGLISH IDEA. 21
does not necessarily require war and conquest in
order to be put into operation. Of the other two
methods war was an essential part. In the typical
Oriental nation, such as Assyria or Persia, we see
a conquering tribe holding down a number of van
quished peoples, and treating them like slaves : here
the nation is very imperfectly made, and its gov
ernment is subject to sudden and violent changes.
In the Roman empire we see a conquering people
hold sway over a number of vanquished peoples,
but instead of treating them like slaves, it grad
ually makes them its equals before the law ; here
the resulting political body is much more nearly a
nation, and its government is much more stable.
A Lydian of the fifth century before Christ felt no
sense of allegiance to the Persian master who sim
ply robbed and abused him ; but the Gaul of the
fifth century after Christ was proud of the name of
Roman and ready to fight for the empire of which
he was a citizen. We have seen, nevertheless, that
for want of representation the Roman method failed
when applied to an immense territory, and the gov
ernment tended to become more and more despotic,
to revert toward the Oriental type. Now of the
English or Teutonic method, I say, war is not an
essential part ; for where representative govern
ment is once established, it is possible for a great
nation to be formed by the peaceful coalescence of
neighbouring states, or by their union into a federal
body. An instance of the former was .
J Pacific tenden-
the coalescence of England and Scotland cies of federal.
° ism.
effected early in the eighteenth century
after ages of mutual hostility ; for instances of the

22 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
latter we have Switzerland and the United States.
Now federalism, though its rise and establishment
may be incidentally accompanied by warfare, is
nevertheless in spirit pacific. Conquest in the Ori
ental sense is quite incompatible with it ; conquest
in the Roman sense is hardly less so. At the close
of our Civil War there were now and then zealous
people to be found who thought that the southern
states ought to be treated as conquered territory,
governed by prefects sent from Washington, and
held down by military force for a generation or so.
Let us hope that there are few to-day who can fail
to see that such a course would have been fraught
with almost as much danger as the secession move
ment itself. At least it would have been a hasty
confession, quite uncalled for and quite untrue,
that American federalism had thus far proved it
self incompetent, — that we had indeed preserved
our national unity, but only at the frightful cost of
sinking to a lower plane of national life.
But federalism, with its pacific implications, was
not an invention of the Teutonic mind. The idea
was familiar to the city communities of ancient
Greece, wliich, along with their intense love of
self-government, felt the need of combined action
for warding off external attack. In their Achaian
and Aitolian leagues the Greeks made brilliant at
tempts toward founding a nation upon some higher
principle than that of mere conquest, and the his
tory of these attempts is exceedingly interesting
and instructive. They failed for lack of the prin
ciple of representation, which was practically un
known to the world until introduced by the Teu-

ROMAN IDEA AND ENGLISH IDEA. 23
tonic colonizers of the Roman empire. Until the
idea of power delegated by the people had become
familiar to men's minds in its practical bearings,
it was impossible to create a great nation without
crushing out the political life in some of its parts.
Some centre of power was sure to absorb all the po
litical life, and grow at the expense of the outlying
parts, until the result was a centralized despotism.
Hence it came to be one of the commonplace as
sumptions of political writers that republics must
be small, that free government is prac- Fallacy of the
ticable only in a confined area, and that pubUcs^ust6"
the only strong and durable government, e 8mal '
capable of maintaining order throughout a vast ter
ritory, is some form of absolute monarchy. It was
quite natural that people should formerly have
held this opinion, and it is indeed not yet quite
obsolete, but its fallaciousness will become more
and more apparent as American history is better
understood. Our experience has now so far wi
dened that we can see that despotism is not the
strongest but wellnigh the weakest form of govern
ment ; that centralized administrations, like that
of the Roman empire, have fallen to pieces, not
because of too much but because of too little free
dom ; and that the only perdurable government
must be that which succeeds in achieving national
unity on a grand scale, without weakening the sense
of personal and local independence. For in the
body politic this spirit of freedom is as the red cor
puscles in the blood ; it carries the life with it. It
makes the difference between a society of self-re
specting men and women and a society of puppets.

24 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
Your nation may have art, poetry, and science, all
the refinements of civilized life, all the comforts
and safeguards that human ingenuity can devise ;
but if it lose this spirit of personal and local inde
pendence, it is doomed and deserves its doom.
As President Cleveland has well said, it is not the
business of a government to support its people, but
of the people to support their government ; and
once to lose sight of this vital truth is as dangerous
as to trifle with some stealthy narcotic poison. Of
the two opposite perils which have perpetually
threatened the welfare of political society — anar
chy on the one hand, loss of self-government on the
other — Jefferson was right in maintaining that
the latter is really the more to be dreaded be
cause its beginnings are so terribly insidious.
Many will understand what is meant by a threat
of secession, where few take heed of the baneful
principle involved in a Texas Seed-bill.
That the American people are still fairly alive
to the importance of these considerations, is due to
the weary ages of struggle in which our forefathers
have manfully contended for the right of self-gov
ernment. From the days of Arminius and Civilis
in the wilds of lower Germany to the days of
Franklin and Jefferson in Independence Hall, we
have been engaged in this struggle, not without
some toughening of our political fibre, not without
some refining of our moral sense. Not among our
English forefathers only, but among all the peo
ples of mediaeval and modern Europe has the
struggle gone on, with various and instructive re
sults. In all parts of romanized Europe invaded

ROMAN IDEA AND ENGLISH IDEA. 25
and colonized by Teutonic tribes, self-government
attempted to spring up. What may have been the
origin of the idea of representation we do not
know ; like most origins, it seems lost in the pre
historic darkness. Wherever we find Teutonic
tribes settling down over a wide area, we find them
holding their primary assemblies, usually
their annual March-meetings, like those March-meet-
in which Mr. Hosea Biglow and others sentative as-
like him have figured. Everywhere,
too, we find some attempt at representative assem
blies, based on the principle of the three estates,
clergy, nobles, and commons. But nowhere save
in England does the representative principle be
come firmly established, at first in county-meet
ings, afterward in a national parliament limiting
the powers of the national monarch as the primary
tribal assembly had limited the powers of the tribal
chief. It is for this reason that we must call the
method of nation-making by means of a representa
tive assembly the English method. While the idea
of representation was perhaps the common property
of the Teutonic tribes, it was only in England that
it was successfully put into practice and became
the dominant political idea. We may therefore
agree with Dr. Stubbs that in its political develop
ment England is the most Teutonic of all European
countries, — the country which in becoming a great
nation has most fully preserved the local independ
ence so characteristic of the ancient Germans.
The reasons for this are complicated, and to try to
assign them all would needlessly encumber our ex
position. But there is one that is apparent and

26 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
extremely instructive. There is sometimes a great
advantage in being able to plant political institu
tions in a virgin soil, where they run no risk of
being modified or perhaps metamorphosed through
contact with rival institutions. In America the
Teutonic idea has been worked out even more com
pletely than in Britain ; and so far as institutions
are concerned, our English forefathers settled here
as in an empty country. They were not obliged
to modify their political ideas so as to bring them
into harmony with those of the Indians ; the dis
parity in civilization was so great that the Indians
were simply thrust aside, along with the wolves
and buffaloes.
This illustration will help us to understand the
peculiar features of the Teutonic settlement of
Britain. Whether the English invaders really
slew all the romanized Kelts who dwelt in the
island, except those who found refuge in the moun
tains of Cumberland, Wales, and Cornwall, or fled
across the channel to Brittany, we need not seek to
decide. It is enough to point out one respect in
Pecuiiarit of which the Teutonic conquest was im-
con^ee"t°ofic measurably more complete in Britain
Britain. than in any other part of the empire.
Everywhere else the tribes who settled upon Ro
man soil — the Goths, Vandals, Suevi, and Bur-
gundians — were christianized, and so to some ex
tent romanized, before they came to take possession.
Even the more distant Franks had been converted
to Christianity before they had completed their
conquest of Gaul. Everywhere except in Britain,
therefore, the conquerors had already imbibed Ro-

ROMAN IDEA AND ENGLISH IDEA. 27
man ideas, and the authority of Rome was in a
certain sense acknowledged. There was no break
in the continuity of political events. In Britain,
on the other hand, there was a complete break, so
that while on the continent the fifth and sixth cen
turies are seen in the full midday light of history,
in Britain they have lapsed into the twilight of
half-legendary tradition. The Saxon and English
tribes, coming from the remote wilds of northern
Germany, whither Roman missionaries had not yet
penetrated, still worshipped Thor and Wodan ;
and their conquest of Britain was effected with
such deadly thoroughness that Christianity was
destroyed there, or lingered only in sequestered
nooks. A land once christianized thus actually
fell back into paganism, so that the work of con
verting it to Christianity had to be done over
again. From the landing of heathen Hengest on
the isle of Thanet to the landing of Augustine and
his monks on the same spot, one hundred and forty-
eight years elapsed, during which English institu
tions found time to take deep root in British soil
with scarcely more interference, as to essential
points, than in American soil twelve centuries af
terward. The century and a half between 449 and 597 is
therefore one of the most important epochs in the
history of the people that speak the English lan
guage. Before settling in Britain our forefathers
had been tribes in the upper stages of barbarism ;
now they began the process of coalescence into a
nation in which the principle of self-government
should be retained and developed. The township

28 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
and its town-meeting we find there, as later in
New England. The county-meeting we also find,
while the county is a little state in itself and not
a • , a a mere administrative district. And
Survival and
of Teutonic' m *n^s county-meeting we may observe
assSiy'ra'™ a singular feature, something never
England. geen Defore jn the world, something
destined to work out vaster political results than
Caesar ever dreamed of. This county-meeting is
not a primary assembly ; all the freemen from all
the townships cannot leave their homes and their
daily business to attend it. Nor is it merely an
assembly of notables, attended by the most impor
tant men of the neighbourhood. It is a repre
sentative assembly, attended by select men from
each township. We may see in it the germ of the
British parliament and of the American congress,
as indeed of all modern legislative bodies, for it
is a most suggestive commentary upon what we are
saying that in all other countries which have legis
latures, they have been copied, within quite recent
times, from English or American models. We
can seldom if ever fix a date for the beginning of
anything, and we can by no means fix a date for
the beginning of representative assemblies in Eng
land. We can only say that where we first find
traces of county organization, we find traces of rep
resentation. Clearly, if the English conquerors
of Britain had left the framework of Roman insti
tutions standing there, as it remained standing in
Gaul, there would have been great danger of this
principle of representation not surviving. It would
most likely have been crushed in its callow infancy.

ROMAN IDEA AND ENGLISH IDEA. 29
The conquerors would insensibly have fallen into
the Roman way of doing things, as they did in
Gaul. From the start, then, we find the English nation
ality growing up under very different conditions
from those which obtained in other parts of Eu
rope. So far as institutions are concerned, Teu-
tonism was less modified in England Primitive Teu.
than in the German fatherland itself. "JClti.
For the gradual conquest and christian- j^[ ^anTn
ization of Germany which began with Germany-
Charles the Great, and went on until in the thir
teenth century the frontier had advanced eastward
to the Vistula, entailed to a certain extent the
romanization of Germany. For a thousand years
after Charles the Great, the political head of
Germany was also the political head of the Holy
Roman Empire, and the civil and criminal code
by which the daily life of the modern German cit
izen is regulated is based upon the jurisprudence
of Rome. Nothing, perhaps, could illustrate more
forcibly than this sheer contrast the peculiarly
Teutonic character of English civilization. Be
tween the eighth and the eleventh centuries, when
the formation of English nationality was approach
ing completion, it received a fresh and powerful
infusion of Teutonism in the swarms of heathen
Northmen or Danes who occupied the eastern
coasts, struggled long for the supremacy, and grad
ually becoming christianized, for a moment suc
ceeded in seizing the crown. Of the invasion of
partially romanized Northmen from Normandy
which followed soon after, and which has so pro-

30 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
foundly affected English society and English speech,
we need notice here but two conspicuous features.
First, it increased the power of the crown and the
clergy, brought all England more than ever under
one law, and strengthened the feeling of nation
ality. It thus made England a formidable military
power, while at the same time it brought her into
closer relations with continental Europe than she
had held since the fourth century. Secondly, by
superposing a new feudal nobility as the upper
stratum of society, it transformed the Old-English
thanehood into the finest middle-class of rural gen
try and yeomanry that has ever existed in any coun
try ; a point of especial interest to Americans, since
it was in this stratum of society that the two most
powerful streams of English migration to America
— the Virginia stream and the New England
stream — alike had their source.
By the thirteenth century the increasing power
and pretensions of the crown, as the unification
of English nationality went on, brought about a
result unlike anything known on the continent of
Europe ; it brought about a resistless coalition be
tween the great nobles, the rural gentry and yeo
manry, and the burghers of the towns, for the
purpose of curbing royalty, arresting the progress
of centralization, and setting up representative
government on a truly national scale. This grand
result was partly due to peculiar circumstances
which had their origin in the Norman conquest;
but it was largely due to the political habits gen
erated by long experience of local representative
assemblies, — habits which made it comparatively

ROMAN IDEA AND ENGLISH IDEA. 31
easy for different classes of society to find their
voice and use it for the attainment of ends in com
mon. On the continent of Europe the encroach
ing sovereign had to contend with here and there
an arrogant vassal, here and there a high-spirited
and rebellious town ; in England, in this first great
crisis of popular government, he found himself
confronted by a united people. The fruits of the
grand combination were first, the wresting of
Magna Charta from King John in 1215, and sec
ondly, the meeting of the first House of Commons
in 1265. Four years of civil war were required
to secure these noble results. The Bar- Th6 Barona,
ons' War, of the years 1263 to 1267, Z"^T
was an event of the same order of im- of Commona-
portance as the Great Rebellion of the seven
teenth century and the American Revolution ; and
among the founders of that political freedom
which is enjoyed to-day by all English-speaking
people, the name of Simon de Montfort, Earl of
Leicester, deserves a place in our grateful remem
brance beside the names of Cromwell and Wash
ington. Simon's great victory at Lewes in 1264
must rank with Naseby and Yorktown. The
work begun by his House of Commons was the
same work that has continued to go on without
essential interruption down to the days of Cleve
land and Gladstone. The fundamental principle
of political freedom is "no taxation without repre
sentation " ; you must not take a farthing of my
money without consulting my wishes as to the use
that shall be made of it. Only when this princi
ple of justice was first practically recognized, did

32 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
government begin to divorce itself from the prim
itive bestial barbaric system of tyranny and plun
der, and to ally itself with the forces that in the
fulness of time are to bring peace on earth and
good will to men. Of all dates in history, there
fore, there is none more fit to be commemorated
than 1265 ; for in that year there was first asserted
and applied at Westminster, on a national scale,
that fundamental principle of " no taxation with
out representation," that innermost kernel of the
English Idea, which the Stamp Act Congress
defended at New York exactly five hundred years
afterward. When we think of these dates, by the
way, we realize the import of the saying that in
the sight of the Lord a thousand years are but
as a day, and we feel that the work of the Lord
cannot be done by the listless or the slothful. So
much time and so much strife by sea and land has
it taken to secure beyond peradventure the boon to
mankind for which Earl Simon gave up his noble
m ... life on the field of Evesham ! Nor with-
Eternal vlgl-
prkeofml 0U^ unremitting watchfulness can we be
erty. gure £jia£ ^Qe (Jay Qf perJl jg yg^ past.
From kings, indeed, we have no more to fear ; they
have come to be as spooks and bogies of the nur
sery. But the gravest dangers are those which
present themselves in new forms, against which
people's minds have not yet been fortified with
traditional sentiments and phrases. The inherited
predatory tendency of men to seize upon the fruits
of other people's labour is still very strong, and
while we have nothing more to fear from kings,
we may yet have trouble enough from commercial

ROMAN IDEA AND ENGLISH IDEA 33
monopolies and favoured industries, marching to
the polls their hordes of bribed retainers. Well
indeed has it been said that eternal vigilance is the
price of liberty. God never meant that in this fair
but treacherous world in which Pie has placed us we
should earn our salvation without steadfast labour.
To return to Earl Simon, we see that it was just
in that wonderful thirteenth century, when the
Roman idea of government might seem to have
been attaining its richest and most fruitful develop
ment, that the richer and more fruitful English
idea first became incarnate in the political constitu
tion of a great and rapidly growing nation. It was
not long before the struggle between the Roman
Idea and the English Idea, clothed in various
forms, became the dominating issue in Conflict be-
. -__r , tween Roman
European history. We nave now to idea and Eng-
. , . . -, .... lish Ideabe-
observe the rise oi modern nationalities, ginstobecome
as new centres of political life, out of mtnethir-
. i«i t-> teenth cen-
the various provinces of the Roman tury.
world. In the course of this development the Teu
tonic representative assembly is at first everywhere
discernible, in some form or other, as in the Span
ish Cortes or the States-General of France, but on
the continent it generally dies out. Only in such
nooks as Switzerland and the Netherlands does it
survive. In the great nations it succumbs before
the encroachments of the crown. The compara
tively novel Teutonic idea of power delegated by
the people to their representatives had not become
deeply enough rooted in the political soil of the
continent; and accordingly we find it more and
more disused and at length almost forgotten, while

34 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
the old and deeply rooted Roman idea of power
delegated by the governing body to its lieutenants
and prefects usurps its place. Let us observe
some of the most striking features of this growth
of modern nationalities.
The reader of mediaeval history cannot fail to
be impressed with the suddenness with which the
culmination of the Holy Roman Empire, in the
thirteenth century, was followed by a swift decline.
The imperial position of the Hapsburgs was far
less splendid than that of the Hohenstauffen ; it
rapidly became more German and less European,
until by and by people began to forget what the
empire originally meant. The change which came
over the papacy was even more remarkable. The
grandchildren of the men who had witnessed the
spectacle of a king of France and a king of Eng
land humbled at the feet of Innocent III., the chil
dren of the men who had found the gigantic powers
of a Frederick II. unequal to the task of curbing
the papacy, now beheld the successors of St. Peter
carried away to Avignon, there to be kept for sev
enty years under the supervision of the kings of
France. Henceforth the glory of the papacy in its
political aspect was to be but the faint shadow of
that with which it had shone before. This sudden
change in its position showed that the mediaeval
dream of a world-empire was passing away, and
Growth of *^a* new Powers were coming upper-
ttonaUtieT most *n *ke shape of modern national
ities with their national sovereigns. So
long as these nationalities were in the weakness of
their early formation, it was possible for pope and

ROMAN IDEA AND ENGLISH IDEA. 35
emperor to assert, and sometimes to come near
maintaining, universal supremacy. But the time
was now at hand when kings could assert their in
dependence of the pope, while the emperor was fast
sinking to be merely one among kings.
As modern kingdoms thus grew at the expense
of empire ai_d papacy above, so they also grew at
the expense of feudal dukedoms, earldoms, and
baronies below. The fourteenth and fifteenth
centuries were as fatal to feudalism as to world-em
pire and world-church. A series of wars occurring
at this time were especially remarkable for the
wholesale slaughter of the feudal nobility, whether
on the field or under the headsman's axe. This
was a conspicuous feature of the feuds of the Tras-
tamare in Spain, of the English invasions of France,
followed by the quarrel between Burgundians and
Armagnacs, and of the great war of the Roses in
England. So thorough-going was the butchery
in England, for example, that only twenty-nine lay
peers could be found to sit in the first parliament
of Henry VII. in 1485. The old nobility was al
most annihilated, both in person and in property ;
for along with the slaughter there went wholesale
confiscation, and this added greatly to the dispos
able wealth of the crown. The case was essentially
similar in France and Spain. In all three coun
tries the beginning of the sixteenth century saw the
power of the crown increased and in- Increasi
creasing. Its vast accessions of wealth p°^£ oi the
made it more independent of legislative
assemblies, and at the same time enabled it to make
the baronage more subservient in character by fill-

36 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
ing up the vacant places with new creations of its
own. Through the turbulent history of the next
two centuries we see the royal power aiming at un
checked supremacy and in the principal instances
attaining it except in England. Absolute despo
tism was reached first in Spain, under Philip II. ;
in France it was reached a century later, under
Louis XIV. ; and at about the same time in the
hereditary estates of Austria ; while over all the
Italian and German soil of the disorganized em
pire, except among the glaciers of Switzerland and
the dykes of the Netherlands, the play of political
forces had set up a host of petty tyrannies which
aped the morals and manners of the great autocrats
at Paris and Madrid and Vienna.
As we look back over this growth of modern
monarchy, we cannot but be struck with the im
mense practical difficulty of creating a strong
nationality without sacrificing self-government.
Powerful, indeed, is the tendency toward over-cen
tralization, toward stagnation, toward political
death. Powerful is the tendency to revert to the
Roman, if not to the Oriental method.
Formidable . .
strength of the As otten as we reflect upon the general
Roman Idea. . ip-i
state of things at the end of the seven
teenth century — the dreadful ignorance and mis
ery which prevailed among most of the people of
continental Europe, and apparently without hope
of remedy — so often must we be impressed anew
with the stupendous significance of the part played
by self-governing England in overcoming dangers
which have threatened the very existence of mod
ern civilization. It is not too much to say that in

ROMAN IDEA AND ENGLISH IDEA. 37
the seventeenth century the entire political future
of mankind was staked upon the questions that
were at issue in England. To keep the sacred
flame of liberty alive required such a rare and
wonderful concurrence of conditions that, had our
forefathers then succumbed in the strife, it is hard
to imagine how or where the failure could have
been repaired. Some of these conditions Had it not
we have already considered ; let us now ptritaSs**
observe one of the most important of "Sp'robE
all. Let us note the part played by append from
that most tremendous of social forces, theworld'
the religious sentiment, in its relation to the po
litical circumstances which we have passed in re
view. If we ask why it was that among modern
nations absolute despotism was soonest and most
completely established in Spain, we find it instruc
tive to observe that the circumstances under which
the Spanish monarchy grew up, during centuries
of deadly struggle with the Mussulman, were such
as to enlist the religious sentiment on the side
of despotic methods in church and state. It be
comes interesting, then, to observe by contrast how
it was that in England the dominant religious sen
timent came to be enlisted on the side of political
freedom. In such an inquiry we have nothing to do with
the truth or falsity of any system of doctrines,
whether Catholic or Protestant. The legitimate
purposes of the historian do not require him to in
trude upon the province of the theologian. Our
business is to trace the sequence of political cause
and effect. Nor shall we get much help from

38 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
crude sweeping statements which set forth Cathol
icism as invariably the enemy and Protestantism
as invariably the ally of human liberty. The
Catholic has a right to be offended at statements
which would involve a Hildebrand or a St. Francis
in the same historical judgment with a Sigismund
or a Torquemada. The character of ecclesiastical
as of all other institutions has varied with the char
acter of the men who have worked them and the
varying needs of the times and places in which
they have been worked ; and our intense feeling of
the gratitude we owe to English Puritanism need
in nowise diminish the enthusiasm with which we
praise the glorious work of the mediaeval church.
It is the duty of the historian to learn how to limit
and qualify his words of blame or approval ; for
so curiously is human nature compounded of
strength and weakness that the' best of human in
stitutions are likely to be infected with some germs
of vice or folly.
Of no human institution is this more true than
of the great mediaeval church of Gregory and In
nocent when viewed in the light of its claims to
unlimited temporal and spiritual sovereignty. In
striking down the headship of the emperors, it
would have reduced Europe to a sort of Oriental
caliphate, had it not been checked by the rising
spirit of nationality already referred to.
Beginnings »'•,-,, .
Protestantism But there was another and even mightier
in the thir- _ °
teenthcen- agency coming in to curb its undue pre
tensions to absolute sovereignty. That
same thirteenth century which witnessed the cul
mination of its power witnessed also the first bold

ROMAN IDEA AND ENGLISH IDEA. 39
and determined manifestation of the Protestant
temper of revolt against spiritual despotism. It
was long before this that the earliest Protestant
heresy had percolated into Europe, having its
source, like so many other heresies, in that eastern
world where the stimulating thought of the Greeks
busied itself with the ancient theologies of Asia.
From Armenia in the eighth century came the Man-
ichaean sect of Paulicians into Thrace, and for
twenty generations played a considerable part in
the history of the Eastern Empire. In the Bul
garian tongue they were known as Bogomilians, on
men constant in prayer. In Greek they were
called Cathari, or "Puritans." They TheCatharii
accepted the New Testament, but set ^Eastern °£
little store by the Old ; they laughed at Empire-
transubstantiation, denied any mystical efficiency
to baptism, frowned upon image-worship as no
better than idolatry, despised the intercession of
saints, and condemned the worship of the Virgin
Mary. As for the symbol of the cross, they scorn
fully asked, " If any man slew the son of a king
with a bit of wood, how could this piece of wood
be dear to the king ? " Their ecclesiastical govern
ment was in the main presbyterian, and in politics
they showed a decided leaning toward democracy.
They wore long faces, looked askance at frivolous
amusements, and were terribly in earnest. Of the
more obscure pages of mediaeval history, none are
fuller of interest than those in which we decipher
the westward progress of these sturdy heretics
through the Balkan peninsula into Italy, and
thence into southern France, where toward the end

40 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
of the twelfth century we find their ideas coming
to full blossom in the great Albigensian heresy.
It was no light affair to assault the church in the
days of Innocent III. The terrible crusade against
TheAiwgen- tne Albigenses, beginning in 1207, was
6ea- the joint work of the most powerful of
popes and one of the most powerful of French
kings. On the part of Innocent it was the stamp
ing out of a revolt that threatened the very exist
ence of the Catholic hierarchy ; on the part of
Philip Augustus it was the suppression of those
too independent vassals the Counts of Toulouse,
and the decisive subjection of the southern prov
inces to the government at Paris. Nowhere in Eu
ropean history do we read a more frightful story
than that which tells of the blazing fires which con
sumed thousand after thousand of the most intelli
gent and thrifty people in France. It was now
that the Holy Inquisition came into existence, and
after forty years of slaughter these Albigensian
Cathari or Puritans seemed exterminated. The
practice of burning heretics, first enacted by stat
ute in Aragon in 1197, was adopted in most parts
of Europe during the thirteenth century, but in
England not until the beginning of the fifteenth.
The Inquisition was never established in England.
Edward II. attempted to introduce it in 1311 for
the purpose of suppressing the Templars, but his
utter failure showed that the instinct of self-gov
ernment was too strong in the English people to
tolerate the entrusting of so much power over
men's lives to agents of the papacy. Mediaeval
England was ignorant and bigoted enough, but un-

ROMAN IDEA AND ENGLISH IDEA. 41
der a representative government which so strongly
permeated society, it was impossible to set the ma
chinery of repression to work with such deadly
thoroughness as it worked under the guidance of
Roman methods. When we read the history of
persecution in England, the story in itself is dread
ful enough ; but when we compare it with the hor
rors enacted in other countries, we arrive at some
startling results. During the two centuries of
English persecution, from Henry IV. to James I.,
some 400 persons were burned at the stake, and
three-fourths of these cases occurred in 1555-57,
the last three years of Mary Tudor. Now in a
single province of Spain, in the single year 1482,
about 2000 persons were burned. The lowest es
timates of the number slain for heresy in the Neth
erlands in the course of the sixteenth century place
it at 75,000. Very likely such figures are in many
cases grossly exaggerated. But after making due
allowance for this, the contrast is sufficiently im
pressive. In England the persecution of Bffeota of er_
heretics was feeble and spasmodic, and Sienessln
only at one moment rose to anything Bnsland'
like the appalling vigour which ordinarily charac
terized it in countries where the Inquisition was
firmly established. Now among the victims of re
ligious persecution must necessarily be found an
unusual proportion of men and women more inde
pendent than the average in their thinking, and
more bold than the average in uttering their
thoughts. The Inquisition was a diabolical win
nowing machine for removing from society the
most flexible minds and the stoutest hearts ; and

42 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
among every people in which it was established
for a length of time it wrought serious damage to
the national character. It ruined the fair promise
of Spain, and inflicted incalculable detriment upon
the fortunes of France. No nation could afford
to deprive itself of such a valuable element in its
political life as was furnished in the thirteenth
century by the intelligent and sturdy Cathari of
southern Gaul.
The spirit of revolt against the hierarchy, though
broken and repressed thus terribly by the measures
of Innocent III., continued to live on obscurely in
sequestered spots, in the mountains of Savoy, and
Bosnia, and Bohemia, ready on occasion to spring
into fresh and vigorous life. In the following cen
tury Protestant ideas were rapidly germinating in
England, alike in baron's castle, in yeoman's farm
stead, in citizen's shop, in the cloistered walks of
the monastery. Henry Knighton, writing in the
time of Richard IL, declares, with the exaggeration
of impatience, that every second man you met was
a Lollard, or " babbler," for such was the nickname
given to these free-thinkers, of whom the most em
inent was John Wyclif, professor at Oxford, and
rector of Lutterworth, greatest scholar of the age.
Wyciif and the The career of this man is a striking com
mentary upon^the difference between
England and continental Europe in the Middle
Ages. Wyelif denied transubstantiation, disap
proved of auricular confession, opposed the pay
ment of Peter's pence, taught that kings should
not be subject to prelates, translated the Bible into
English and circulated it among the people, and

ROMAN IDEA AND ENGLISH IDEA. 43
even denounced the reigning pope as Antichrist;
yet he was not put to death, because there was as
yet no act of parliament for the burning of heretics,
and in England things must be done according to
the laws which the people had made.1 Pope Greg
ory XI. issued five bulls against him, addressed to
the king, the archbishop of Canterbury, and the
university of Oxford ; but their dictatorial tone of
fended the national feeling, and no heed was paid
to them. Seventeen years after Wyclif's death,
the statute for burning heretics was passed, and the
persecution of Lollards began. It was feeble and
ineffectual, however. Lollardism was never tram
pled out in England as Catharism was trampled out
in France. Tracts of Wyclif and passages from his
translation of the Bible were copied by hand and
secretly passed about to be read on Sundays in the
manor-house, or by the cottage fireside after the
day's toil was over. The work went on quietly, but
not the less effectively, until when the papal author
ity was defied by Henry VIII., it soon became ap
parent that England was half -Protestant already.
It then appeared also that in this Reformation there
were two forces cooperating, — the sentiment of
national independence which would not brook dic
tation from Rome, and the Puritan sentiment of
revolt against the hierarchy in general. The first
sentiment had found expression again and again
in refusals to pay tribute to Rome, in defiance of
papal bulls, and in the famous statutes of prcemu-
nire, which made it a criminal offence to acknowl
edge any authority in England higher than the
1 Milman, Lat. Christ, vii. 395.

44 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
crown. The revolt of Henry VIII. was simply the
Political char- carrying out of these acts of Edward I.
vni°Bfravo)7 an^ Edward III. to their logical conclu-
againstRome. gjon_ jt completed the detachment of
England from the Holy Roman Empire, and made
her free of all the world. Its intent was political
rather than religious. Henry, who wrote against
Martin Luther, was far from wishing to make
England a Protestant country. Elizabeth, who dif
fered from her father in not caring a straw for the
ology, was by temperament and policy conservative.
Yet England could not cease to be Papist without
ceasing in some measure to be Catholic ; nor could
she in that day carry on war against Spain without
becoming a leading champion of Protestantism.
The changes in creed and ritual wrought by the
government during this period were cautious and
skilful ; and the resulting church of England, with
its long line of learned and liberal divines, has
played a noble part in history.
But along with this moderate Protestantism es
poused by the English government, as consequent
upon the assertion of English national independence,
there grew up the fierce uncompromising democratic
Protestantism of which the persecuted Lollards
had sown the seeds. This was not the work of
government. By the side of Henry VIII. stands
the sublime figure of Hugh Latimer,
The yeoman, ° °
Hugh Lati- most dauntless of preachers, the one
man before whose stern rebuke the head
strong and masterful Tudor monarch quailed. It
was Latimer that renewed the work of Wyclif, and
in his life as well as in his martyrdom, — to use

ROMAN IDEA AND ENGLISH IDEA. 45
his own words of good cheer uttered while the fag
ots were kindling around him, — lighted " such a
candle in England as by God's grace shall never be
put out." This indomitable man belonged to that
middle-class of self-governing, self-respecting yeo
manry that has been the glory of free England and
free America. He was one of the sturdy race that
overthrew French chivalry at Crecy and twice
drove the soldiery of a tyrant down the slope of
Bunker Hill. In boyhood he worked on his
father's farm and helped his mother to milk the
thirty kine ; he practised archery on the village
green, studied in the village school, went to Cam
bridge, and became the foremost preacher of Chris
tendom. Now the most thorough and radical work
of the English Reformation was done by this class
of men of which Latimer was the type. It was
work that was national in its scope, arousing to
fervent heat the strong religious and moral senti
ment of the people, and hence it soon quite outran
the cautious and conservative policy of the govern
ment, and tended to introduce changes extremely
distasteful to those who wished to keep England as
nearly Catholic as was. consistent with independence
of the pope. Hence before the end of Elizabeth's
reign, we find the crown set almost as strongly
against Puritanism as against Romanism. Hence,
too, when under Elizabeth's successors the great
decisive struggle between despotism and liberty
was inaugurated, we find all the tremendous force
of this newly awakened religious enthusiasm coop
erating with the English love of self-government
and carrying it under Cromwell to victory. From

46 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
this fortunate alliance of religious and political
forces has come all the noble and fruitful work of
the last two centuries in which men of English
The moment speech have been labouring for the polit-
triimrpT was s ical regeneration of mankind. But for
caimom'ent'1" this alliance of forces, it is quite possi-
in history. ble that faQ f^f^ seventeenth century
might have seen despotism triumphant in England
as on the continent of Europe, and the progress of
civilization indefinitely arrested.
In illustration of this possibility, observe what
happened in France at the very time when the
victorious English tendencies were shaping them
selves in the reign of Elizabeth. In France there
was a strong Protestant movement, but it had no
such independent middle-class to support it as that
which existed in England ; nor had it been able to
profit by such indispensable preliminary work as
that which Wyclif had done ; the horrible slaugh
ter of the Albigenses had deprived France of the
very people who might have played a part in some
way analogous to that of the Lollards. Conse
quently the Protestant movement in France failed
to become a national movement. Against the
contrast with wretched Henry III. who would have
ofratheeHugue- temporized with it, and the gallant
nots. Henry IV. who honestly espoused it,
the oppressed peasantry and townsmen made com
mon cause by enlisting under the banner of the
ultra-Catholic Guises. The mass of the people
saw nothing in Protestantism but an idea favoured
by the aristocracy and which they could not com
prehend. Hence the great king who would have

ROMAN IDEA AND ENGLISH IDEA. 47
been glad to make France a Protestant country
could only obtain his crown by renouncing his
religion, while seeking to protect it by his memor
able Edict of Nantes. But what a generous despot
could grant, a bigoted despot might revoke ; and
before another century had elapsed, the good work
done by Henry IV. was undone by Louis XIV.,
the Edict of Nantes was set aside, the process of
casting out the most valuable political element in
the community was carried to completion, and
seven per cent, of the population of France was
driven away and added to the Protestant popula
tions of northern Germany and England and
America. The gain to these countries and the
damage to France was far greater than the mere
figures would imply ; for in determining the char
acter of a community a hundred selected men
and women are more potent than a thousand men
and women taken at random. Thus while the
Reformation in France reinforced to some extent
the noble army of freemen, its triumphs were not
to be the triumphs of Frenchmen, but of the race
which has known how to enlist under its banner
the forces that fight for free thought, free speech,
and self-government, and all that these phrases
imply. In view of these facts we may see how tremen
dous was the question at stake with the Puritans
of the seventeenth century. Everywhere else the
Roman idea seemed to have conquered or to be
conquering, while they seemed to be left as the
forlorn hope of the human race. But from the
very day when Oliver Cromwell reached forth his

48 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
mighty arm to stop the persecutions in Savoy, the
victorious English idea began to change the face
of things. The next century saw William Pitt
allied with Frederick of Prussia to save the work
, „ of the Reformation in central Europe
Victory of the A
English idea. arl(j se£ [n motion the train of events
that were at last to make the people of the
Teutonic fatherland a nation. At that same mo
ment the keenest minds in France were awaking
to the fact that in their immediate neighbourhood,
separated from them only by a few miles of salt
water, was a country where people were equal in
the eye of the law. It was the ideas of Locke and
Milton, of Vane and Sidney, that, when trans
planted into French soil, produced that violent but
salutary Revolution which has given fresh life to
the European world. And contemporaneously with
all this, the American nation came upon the scene,
equipped as no other nation had ever been, for the
task of combining sovereignty with liberty, inde
structible union of the whole with indestructible
life in the parts. The English idea has thus come
to be more than national, it has become imperial.
It has come to rule, and it has come to stay.
We are now in a position to answer the question
when the Roman Empire came to an end, in so far
as it can be answered at all. It did not come to
its end at the hands of an Odovakar in the year
476, or of a Mahomet II. in 1453, or of a Napo
leon in 1806. It has been coming to its end as
the Roman idea of nation-making has been at
length decisively overcome by the English idea.
For such a fact it is impossible to assign a date,

ROMAN IDEA AND ENGLISH IDEA. 49
because it is not an event but a stage in the endless
procession of events. But we can point to land
marks on the way. Of movements significant and
prophetic there have been many. The whole course
of the Protestant reformation, from the thirteenth
century to the nineteenth, is coincident with the
transfer of the world's political centre of gravity
from the Tiber and the Rhine to the Thames and
the Mississippi. The whole career of the men who
speak English has within this period been the most
potent agency in this transfer. In these gigantic
processes of evolution we cannot mark beginnings
or endings by years, hardly even by cen
turies. But among the significant events ofThe "puritan
which prophesied the final triumph of
the English over the Roman idea, perhaps the
most significant — the one which marks most in
cisively the dawning of a new era — was the mi
gration of English Puritans across the Atlantic
Ocean, to repeat in a new environment and on a
far grander scale the work which their forefathers
had wrought in Britain. The voyage of the May
flower was not in itself the greatest event in this
migration ; but it serves to mark the era, and it is
only when we study it in the mood awakened by
the general considerations here set forth that we
can properly estimate the historic importance of
the great Puritan Exodus.

CHAPTER II.
THE PURITAN EXODUS.
In the preceding chapter I endeavoured to set
forth and illustrate some of the chief causes which
have shifted the world's political centre of gravity
from the Mediterranean and the Rhine to the
Atlantic and the Mississippi ; from the men who
spoke Latin to the men who speak English. In
the course of the exposition we began to catch
glimpses of the wonderful significance of the fact
that — among the people who had first suggested
the true solution of the difficult problem of mak
ing a powerful nation without sacrificing local self-
government — when the supreme day of trial came,
the dominant religious sentiment was arrayed on
the side of political freedom and against political
despotism. If we consider merely the territorial
area which it covered, or the numbers of men slain
in its battles, the war of the English parliament
against Charles I. seems a trivial affair when con
trasted with the gigantic but comparatively insig
nificant work of barbarians like Jinghis or Tamer
lane. But if we consider the moral and political
issues involved, and the influence of the struggle
upon the future welfare of mankind, we soon come
to see that there never was a conflict of more
world-wide importance than that from which Oliver

THE PURITAN EXODUS. 51
Cromwell came out victorious. It shattered the
monarchical power in England at a influence of
time when monarchical power was bear- upon modem
ing down all opposition in the other Europe-
great countries of Europe. It decided that gov
ernment by the people and for the people should
not then perish from the earth. It placed free
England in a position of such moral advantage
that within another century the English Idea ot
political life was able to react most powerfully
upon continental Europe. It was the study of
English institutions by such men as Montesquieu
and Turgot, Voltaire and Rousseau, that gave
shape and direction to the French Revolution.
That violent but wholesome clearing of the air,
that tremendous political and moral awakening,
which ushered in the nineteenth century in Europe,
had its sources in the spirit which animated the
preaching of Latimer, the song of Milton, the sol
emn imagery of Bunyan, the political treatises of
Locke and Sidney, the political measures of
Hampden and Pym. The noblest type of modern
European statesmanship, as represented by Maz-
zini and Stein, is the spiritual offspring of seven
teenth-century Puritanism. To speak of Naseby
and Marston Moor as merely English victories
would be as absurd as to restrict the significance
of Gettysburg to the state of Pennsylvania. If
ever there were men who laid down their lives in
the cause of all mankind, it was those grim old
Ironsides whose watchwords were texts from Holy
Writ, whose battle-cries were hymns of praise.
It was to this unwonted alliance of intense reli<

52 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
gious enthusiasm with the instinct of self-govern
ment and the spirit of personal independence that
the preservation of English freedom was due.
When James I. ascended the English throne, the
forces which prepared the Puritan revolt had been
slowly and quietly gathering strength among the
people for at least two centuries. The work which
Wyclif had begun in the fourteenth century had
continued to go on in spite of occasional spasmodic
attempts to destroy it with the aid of the statute
passed in 1401 for the burning of heretics. The
Lollards can hardly be said at any time to have
constituted a sect, marked off from the established
church by the possession of a system of doctrines
held in common. The name by which they were
known was a nickname which might cover almost
any amount of diversity in opinion, like the mod
ern epithets " free-thinker " and " agnostic." The
Work of the feature which characterized the Lollards
Loiiards. jn comm0n was a bold spirit of inquiry
which led them, in spite of persecution, to read
Wyclif 's English Bible and call in question such
dogmas and rites of the church as did not seem
to find warrant in the sacred text. Clad in long
robes of coarse red wool, barefoot, with pilgrim's
staff in hand, the Lollard preachers fared to and
fro among the quaint Gothic towns and shaded
hamlets, setting forth the word of God wherever
they could find listeners, now in the parish church
or under the vaulted roof of the cathedral, now in
the churchyard or market-place, or on some green
hillside. During the fifteenth century persecution
did much to check this open preaching, but pas-

THE PURITAN EXODUS. 53
sages from Wyclif's tracts and texts from the
Bible were copied by hand and passed about among
tradesmen and artisans, yeomen and plough-boys,
to be pondered over and talked about and learned
by heart. It was a new revelation to the English
people, this discovery of the Bible. Christ and
his disciples seemed to come very near when the
beautiful story of the gospels was first read in the
familiar speech of every-day life. Heretofore they
might well have seemed remote and unreal, just as
the school-boy hardly realizes that the Cato and
Cassius over whom he puzzles in his Latin lessons
were once living men like his father and neigh
bours, and not mere nominatives governing a verb,
or ablatives of means or instrument. Now it
became possible for the layman to contrast the
pure teachings of Christ with the doctrines and
demeanour of the priests and monks to whom the
spiritual guidance of Englishmen had been en
trusted. Strong and self-respecting men and
women, accustomed to manage their own affairs,
could not but be profoundly affected by the con
trast. While they were thus led more and more to
appeal to the Bible as the divine standard of right
living and right thinking, at the same time they
found in the sacred volume the treasures of a
most original and noble literature unrolled before
them ; stirring history and romantic legend, cosmi-
cal theories and priestly injunctions, profound
metaphysics and pithy proverbs, psalms of unri
valled grandeur and pastorals of exquisite loveli
ness, parables fraught with solemn meaning, the

54 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
mournful wisdom of the preacher, the exultant
faith of the apostle, the matchless eloquence of
Job and Isaiah, the apocalyptic ecstasy of St.
John. At a time when there was as yet no Eng
lish literature for the common people, this untold
wealth of Hebrew literature was implanted in the
English mind as in a virgin soil. Great conse
quences "have flowed from the fact that the first
truly popular literature in England — the first
which stirred the hearts of all classes of people,
and filled their minds with ideal pictures and their
every-day speech with apt and telling phrases —
was the literature comprised within the Bible.
The superiority of the common Eng-
versionEofSthe lish version of the Bible, made in the
reign of James I., over all other ver
sions, is a fact generally admitted by competent
critics. The sonorous Latin of the Vulgate is
very grand, but in sublimity of fervour as in the
unconscious simplicity of strength it is surpassed
by the English version, which is scarcely if at all
inferior to the original, while it remains to-day,
and will long remain, the noblest monument of
English speech. The reason for this is obvious.
The common English version of the Bible was
made by men who were not aiming at literary
effect, but simply gave natural expression to the
feelings which for several generations had clustered
around the sacred text. They spoke with the voice
of a people, which is more than the voice of the
most highly gifted man. They spoke with the voice
of a people to whom the Bible had come to mean
all that it meant to the men who wrote it. To

THE PURITAN EXODUS. 55
the Englishmen who listened to Latimer, to the
Scotchmen who listened to Knox, the Bible more
than filled the place which in modern times is
filled by poem and essay, by novel and newspaper
and scientific treatise. To its pages they went for
daily instruction and comfort, with its strange
Semitic names they baptized their children, upon
its precepts, too often misunderstood and misap
plied, they sought to build up a rule of life that
might raise them above the crude and unsatisfy
ing world into which they were born.
It would be wrong to accredit all this awaken
ing of spiritual life in England to Wyclif and the
Lollards, for it was only after the Bible, in the
translations of Tyndall and Coverdale, had been
made free to the whole English people in the
reign of Edward VI. that its significance began to
be apparent ; and it was only a century later, in
the time of Cromwell and Milton, that its full
fruition was reached. It was with the Lollards,
however, that the spiritual awakening began and
was continued until its effects, when they came,
were marked by surprising maturity and sudden
ness. Because the Lollards were not a clearly de
fined sect, it was hard to trace the manifold ramifi
cations of their work. During the terrible Wars
of the Roses, contemporary chroniclers had little
or nothing to say about the labours of these humble
men, which seemed of less importance than now,
when we read them in the light of their world-wide
results. From this silence some modern historians
have carelessly inferred that the nascent Protest
antism of the Lollards had been extinguished by

56 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
persecution under the Lancastrian kings, and was
in nowise continuous with modern English Protest
antism. Nothing could be more erroneous. The
extent to which the Lollard leaven had permeated
all classes of English society was first clearly re
vealed when Henry VIII. made his domestic af
fairs the occasion for a revolt against the Papacy.
Despot and brute as he was in many ways, Henry
had some characteristics which enabled him to get
on well with his people. He not only represented
the sentiment of national independence, but he had
a truly English reverence for the forms of law. In
his worst acts he relied upon the support of his
Parliament, which he might in various ways cajole
or pack, but could not really enslave. In his quar
rel with Rome he could have achieved
Henry viii.'s but little, had he not happened to strike
in his revolt a chord of feeling to which the English
people, trained by this slow and subtle
work of the Lollards, responded quickly and with
a vehemence upon which he had not reckoned. As
if by magic, the fabric of Romanism was broken
to pieces in England, monasteries were suppressed
and their abbots hanged, the authority of the Pope
was swept away, and there was no powerful party,
like that of the Guises in France, to make such
sweeping measures the occasion for civil war. The
whole secret of Henry's swift success lay in the
fact that the English people were already more
than half Protestant in temper, and needed only
an occasion for declaring themselves. Hence, as
soon as Catholic Henry died, his youthful son
found himself seated on the throne of a Protestant

THE PURITAN EXODUS. 57
nation. The terrible but feeble persecution which
followed under Mary did much to strengthen the
extreme Protestant sentiment by allying it with
the outraged feeling of national independence.
The bloody work of the grand-daughter
» -r, T , i Effects of the
of Ferdinand and Isabella, the doting persecution
° under Mary.
wife of Philip II. , was rightly felt to be
Spanish work ; and never, perhaps, did England
feel such a sense of relief as on the auspicious day
which welcomed to the throne the great Elizabeth,
an Englishwoman in every fibre, and whose mother
withal was the daughter of a plain country gentle
man. But the Marian persecution not only in
creased the- strength of the extreme Protestant
sentiment, but indirectly it supplied it with that
Calvinistic theology which was to make it indomi
table. Of the hundreds of ministers and laymen
who fled from England in 1555 and the two fol
lowing years, a great part found their way to
Geneva, and thus came under the immediate per
sonal influence of that man of iron who taught
the very doctrines for which their souls were
craving, and who was then at the zenith of his
power. Among all the great benefactors of mankind the
figure of Calvin is perhaps the least attractive.
He was, so to speak, the constitutional lawyer of
the Reformation, with vision as clear, with head as
cool, with soul as dry, as any old solicitor in rusty
black that ever dwelt in chambers in Lincoln's Inn.
His sternness was that of the judge who dooms a
criminal to the gallows. His theology had much
in it that is in striking harmony with modern

58 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
scientific philosophy, and much in it, too, that the
descendants of his Puritan converts have learned
to loathe as sheer diabolism. It is hard for us to
forgive the man who burned Michael Servetus,
even though it was the custom of the time to do
such things and the tender-hearted Melanchthon
found nothing to blame in it. It is not easy to
speak of Calvin with enthusiasm, as it comes nat
ural to speak of the genial, whole-souled, many-
sided, mirth-and-song-loving Luther. Nevertheless
it would be hard to overrate the debt which man
kind owe to Calvin. The spiritual father of Co-
ligny, of William the Silent, and of Cromwell
must occupy a foremost rank among the champions
of modern democracy. Perhaps not one of the
mediaeval popes was more despotic in temper than
Calvin ; but it is not the less true that the promul-
caivin's the- g^i011 0I his theology was one of the
utica/bear-1'0 longest steps that mankind have taken
lngs- toward personal freedom. Calvinism
left the individual man alone in the presence of his
God. His salvation could not be wrought by
priestly ritual, but only bj' the grace of God
abounding in his soul ; and wretched creature that
he felt himself to be, through the intense moral
awakening of which this stern theology was in part
the expression, his soul was nevertheless of infin
ite value, and the possession of it was the subject
of an everlasting struggle between the powers of
heaven and the powers of hell. In presence of
the awful responsibility of life, all distinctions of
rank and fortune vanished; prince and pauper
were alike the helpless creatures of Jehovah and

THE PURITAN EXODUS. 59
suppliants for his grace. Calvin did not originate
these doctrines ; in announcing them he was but
setting forth, as he said, the Institutes of the
Christian religion ; but in emphasizing this aspect
of Christianity, in engraving it upon men's minds
with that keen-edged logic which he used with
such unrivalled skill, Calvin made them feel, as it
had perhaps never been felt before, the dignity
and importance of the individual human soul. It
was a religion fit to inspire men who were to be
called upon to fight for freedom, whether in the
marshes of the Netherlands or on the moors of
Scotland. In a church, moreover, based upon such
a theology there was no room for prelacy. Each
single church tended to become an independent
congregation of worshippers, constituting one of
the most effective schools that has ever existed for
training men in local self-government.
When, therefore, upon the news of Elizabeth's
accession to the throne, the Protestant refugees
made their way back to England, they came as Cal-
vinistic Puritans. Their stay upon the Continent
had been short, but it had been just enough to put
the finishing touch upon the work that had been
going on since the days of Wyclif. Upon such
men and their theories Elizabeth could not look
with favour. With all her father's despotic tem
per, Elizabeth possessed her mother's fine tact, and
she represented so grandly the feeling of the nation
in its life-and-death-struggle with Spain and the
pope, that never perhaps in English history has
the crown wielded so much real power as during
the five-and-forty years of her wonderful reign.

60 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
One day Elizabeth asked a lady of the court how
she contrived to retain her husband's affection.
The lady replied that " she had confidence in her
husband's understanding and courage, well founded
on her own steadfastness not to offend or thwart,
but to cherish and obey, whereby she did persuade
her husband of her own affection, and in so doing
did command his." " Go to, go to, mistress," cried
the queen, "You are wisely bent, I find. After
such sort do I keep the good will of all my hus
bands, my good people ; for if they did not rest
assured of some special love towards them, they
would not readily yield me such good obedience." 1
Such a theory of government might work well in
„ . , , the hands of an Elizabeth, and in the cir-
Elizabeth's # 7
policy, and its cumstances in which England was then
effects. °
placed ; but it could hardly be worked
by a successor. The seeds of revolt were already
sown. The disposition to curb the sovereign was
growing and would surely assert itself as soon
as it should have some person less loved and re
spected than Elizabeth to deal with. The queen
in some measure foresaw this, and in the dogged
independence and uncompromising enthusiasm of
the Puritans she recognized the rock on which mon
archy might dash itself into pieces. She therefore
hated the Puritans, and persecuted them zealously
with one hand, while circumstances forced her in
spite of herself to aid and abet them with the other.
She could not maintain herself against Spain with
out helping the Dutch and the Huguenots ; but
every soldier she sent across the channel came back,
1 Gardiner, The Puritan Revolution, p. 12.

THE PURITAN EXODUS. 61
if he came at all, with his head full of the doctrines
of Calvin ; and these stalwart converts were rein
forced by the refugees from France and the Neth
erlands who came flocking into English towns to set
up their thrifty shops and hold prayer-meetings in
their humble chapels. To guard the kingdom
against the intrigues of Philip and the Guises and
the Queen of Scots, it was necessary to choose the
most zealous Protestants for the most responsible
positions, and such men were more than likely to
be Calvinists and Puritans. Elizabeth's great
ministers, Burleigh, Walsingham, and Nicholas
Bacon, were inclined toward Puritanism; and so
were the naval heroes who won the most fruitful
victories of that century, by shattering the mari
time power of Spain and thus opening the way for
Englishmen to colonize North America. If we
would realize the dangers that would have beset the
Mayflower and her successors but for the prepar
atory work of these immortal sailors, we must
remember the dreadful fate of Ribault and his
Huguenot followers in Florida, twenty-three years
before that most happy and glorious event, the
destruction of the Spanish Armada. But not even
the devoted men and women who held their prayer-
meetings in the Mayflower's cabin were more con
stant in prayer or more assiduous in reading the
Bible than the dauntless rovers, Drake Puritansea.
and Hawkins, Gilbert and Cavendish. r0Ters-
In the church itself, too, the Puritan spirit grew
until in 1575-83 it seized upon Grindal, archbishop
of Canterbury, who incurred the queen's disfavour
by refusing to meddle with the troublesome reform-

62 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
ers or to suppress their prophesyings. By the end
of the century the majority of country gentle
men and of wealthy merchants in the towns had
become Puritans, and the new views had made
great headway in both universities, while at Cam
bridge they had become dominant.
This allusion to the universities may serve to in
troduce the very interesting topic of the geograph
ical distribution of Puritanism in England. No
one can study the history of the two universities
without being impressed with the greater conserva
tism of Oxford, and the greater hospitality of Cam
bridge toward new ideas. Possibly the explanation
may have some connection with the situation of Cam
bridge upon the East Anglian border. The east
ern counties of England have often been remarked
as rife in heresy and independency. For many
generations the coast region between the Thames
and the Humber was a veritable litus hcereticum.
Longlaud, bishop of Lincoln in 1520, reported Lol-
lardism as especially vigorous and obstinate in his
diocese, where more than two hundred heretics
were once brought before him in the course of a
single visitation. It was in Lincolnshire, Norfolk,
Suffolk, and Essex, and among the fens of Ely,
Cambridge, and Huntingdon, that Puritanism was
strongest at the end of the sixteenth century. It
Puritanism was as member and leading spirit of the
™ne eastern Eastern Counties Association that Oli
ver Cromwell began his military career;
and in so far as there was anything sectional in the
struggle between Charles I. and the Long Parlia
ment, it was a struggle, which ended in the victory

THE PURITAN EXODUS. 63
of east over west. East Anglia was from first to
last the one region in which the supremacy of Par
liament was unquestionable and impregnable, even
after the strength of its population had been dimin
ished by sending some thousands of picked men
and women to America. While every one of the
forty counties of England was represented in the
great Puritan exodus, the East Anglian counties
contributed to it far more than all the rest. Per
haps it would not be far out of the way to say that
two-thirds of the American people who can trace
their ancestry to New England might follow it
back to the East Anglian shires of the mother-coun
try ; one-sixth might follow it to those southwest
ern countries — Devonshire, Dorset, and Somerset
— which so long were foremost in maritime enter
prise ; one-sixth to other parts of England. I
would not insist upon the exactness of such figures,
in a matter where only a rough approximation is
possible ; but I do not think they overstate the
East Anglian preponderance. It was not by acci
dent that the earliest counties of Mas- _Preponder-
sachusetts were called Norfolk, Suffolk, ance of East
7 Anglia in the
and Essex, or that Boston in Lincoln- Puritan exo-
7 dus.
shire gave its name to the chief city of
New England. The native of Connecticut or Mas
sachusetts who wanders about rural England to-day
finds no part of it so homelike as the cosy villages
and smiling fields and quaint market towns as he
fares leisurely and in not too straight a line from
Ipswich toward Hull. Countless little unobtrusive
features remind him of home. The very names on
the sign-boards over the sleepy shops have an un-

64 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
wontedly familiar look. In many instances the
homestead which his forefathers left, when they
followed Winthrop or Hooker to America, is still
to be found, well-kept and comfortable ; the ancient
manor-house built of massive unhewn stone, yet in
other respects much like the New England farm
house, with its long sloping roof and gable end
toward the road, its staircase with twisted balusters
running across the shallow entry-way, its low ceil
ings with their sturdy oaken beams, its spacious
chimneys, and its narrow casements from which one
might have looked out upon the anxious march of
Edward IV. from Ravenspur to the field of victory
at Barnet in days when America was unknown.
Hard by, in the little parish church which has
stood for perhaps a thousand years, plain enough
and bleak enough to suit the taste of the sternest
Puritan, one may read upon the cold pavement one's
own name and the names of one's friends and neigh
bours in startling proximity, somewhat worn and
effaced by the countless feet that have trodden
there. And yonder on the village green one comes
with bated breath upon the simple inscription which
tells of some humble hero who on that spot in the
evil reign of Mary suffered death by fire. Pursu
ing thus our interesting journey, we may come at
last to the quiet villages of Austerfield and Scrooby,
on opposite banks of the river Idle, and just at the
corner of the three shires of Lincoln, York, and
Nottingham. It was from this point that the Puri
tan exodus to America was begun.
It was not, however, in the main stream of Puri
tanism, but in one of its obscure rivulets that this

THE PURITAN EXODUS. 65
world-famous movement originated. During the
reign of Elizabeth it was not the purpose of the
Puritans to separate themselves from the estab
lished church of which the sovereign was the head,
but to remain within it and reform it according to
their own notions. For a time they were partially
successful in this work, especially in simplifying
the ritual and in giving a Calvinistic tinge to the
doctrines. In doing this they showed no conscious
tendency toward freedom of thought, but rather a
bigotry quite as intense as that which animated the
system against which they were fighting. The
most advanced liberalism of Elizabeth's
, . , j i c i ,-t Puritanism
time was not to be round among the was not inten-
t-»-i , . . . n . tionally allied
.runtans, but in the magnificent treatise withiiberai-
on " Ecclesiastical Polity " by the church
man Richard Hooker. But the liberalism of this
great writer, like that of Erasmus a century ear
lier, was not militant enough to meet the sterner
demands of the time. It could not then ally itself
with the democratic spirit, as Puritanism did. It
has been well said that while Luther was the
prophet of the Reformation that has been, Erasmus
was the prophet of the Reformation that is to come,
and so it was to some extent with the Puritans and
Hooker. The Puritan fight against the hierarchy
was a political necessity of the time, something
without which no real and thorough reformation
could then be effected. In her antipathy to this
democratic movement, Elizabeth vexed and tor
mented the Puritans as far as she deemed it pru
dent ; and in the conservative temper of the people
she found enough support to prevent their trans-

66 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
forming the church as they would have liked to do.
Among the Puritans themselves, indeed, there was
no definite agreement on this point. Some would
have stopped short with Presbyterianism, while
others held that " new presbyter was but old priest
writ large," and so pressed on to Independency.
It was early in Elizabeth's reign that the zeal of
these extreme brethren, inflamed by persecution,
gave rise to the sect of Separatists, who flatly de
nied the royal supremacy over ecclesiastical affairs,
and asserted the right to set up churches of their
own, with pastors and elders and rules of discipline,
independent of queen or bishop.
In 1567 the first congregation of this sort, con
sisting of about a hundred persons assembled in
a hall in Anchor Lane in London, was forcibly
broken up and thirty-one of the number were sent
to jail and kept there for nearly a year. By 1576
the Separatists had come to be recognized as a sect,
under the lead of Robert Brown, a man
and the Sepa- of high social position, related to the
great Lord Burleigh. Brown fled to
Holland, where he preached to a congregation of
English exiles, and wrote books which were smug
gled into England and privately circulated there,
much to the disgust, not only of the queen, but of
all parties, Puritans as well as High Churchmen.
The great majority of Puritans, whose aim was not
to leave the church, but to stay in it and control it,
looked with dread and disapproval upon these ex
tremists who seemed likely to endanger their suc
cess by forcing them into deadly opposition to the
crown. Just as in the years which ushered in our

THE PURITAN EXODUS. 67
late Civil War, the opponents of the Republicans
sought to throw discredit upon them by confusing
them with the little sect of Abolitionists ; and just
as the Republicans, in resenting the imputation,
went so far as to frown upon the Abolitionists, so
that in December, 1860, men who had just voted
for Mr. Lincoln were ready to join in breaking up
" John Brown meetings " in Boston ; so it was
with religious parties in the reign of Elizabeth.
The opponents of the Puritans pointed to the Sep
aratists, and cried, " See whither your anarchical
doctrines are leading ! " and in their eagerness to
clear themselves of this insinuation, the leading
Puritans were as severe upon the Separatists as
anybody. It is worthy of note that in both in
stances the imputation, so warmly resented, was
true. Under the pressure of actual hostilities the
Republicans did become Abolitionists, and in Hke
manner, when in England it came to downright
warfare the Puritans became Separatists. But
meanwhile it fared ill with the little sect which
everybody hated and despised. Their meetings
were broken up by mobs. In an old pamphlet
describing a " tumult in Fleet Street, raised by the
disorderly preachment, pratings, and prattlings of
a swarm of Separatists," one reads such sentences
as the following : " At length they catcht one of
them alone, but they kickt him so vehemently as if
they meant to beat him into a jelly. It is ambig
uous whether they have kil'd him or no, but for
a certainty they did knock him about as if they
meant to pull him to pieces. I confesse it had
been no matter if they had beaten the whole tribe

68 THE BEGINNINGS OF NE W ENGLAND.
in the like manner." For their leaders the penalty
was more serious. The denial of the queen's ec
clesiastical supremacy could be treated as high
treason, and two of Brown's friends, convicted of
circulating his books, were sent to the gallows. In
spite of these dangers Brown returned to England
in 1585. William the Silent had lately been mur
dered, and heresy in Holland was not yet safe
from the long arm of the Spaniard. Brown
trusted in Lord Burleigh's ability to protect him,
but in 1588, finding himself in imminent danger,
he suddenly recanted and accepted a comfortable
living under the bishops who had just condemned
him. His followers were already known as Brown-
ists ; henceforth their enemies took pains to call
them so and twit them with holding doctrines too
weak for making martyrs.
The flimsiness of Brown's moral texture pre
vented him from becoming the leader in the Puri
tan exodus to New England. That honour was
wiiuam reserved for William Brewster, son of
Brewster. a country gentleman who had for many
years been postmaster at Scrooby. The office was
then one of high responsibility and influence.
After taking his degree at Cambridge, Brewster
became private secretary to Sir William Davison,
whom he accompanied on his mission to the Neth
erlands. When Davison's public career came to
an end in 1587, Brewster returned to Scrooby, and
soon afterward succeeded his father as postmaster,
in which position he remained until 1607. During
the interval Elizabeth died, and James Stuart came
from Scotland to take her place on the throne.

THE PURITAN EXODUS. 69
The feelings with which the late queen had re
garded Puritanism were mild compared with the
sentiments entertained by her successor. For some
years he had been getting worsted in his struggle
with the Presbyterians of the northern kingdom.
His vindictive memory treasured up the day when
a mighty Puritan preacher had in public twitched
him by the sleeve and called him " God's silly vas
sal." " I tell you, sir," said Andrew Melville on
that occasion, " there are two kings and two king
doms in Scotland. There is Christ Jesus the King,
and his kingdom the Kirk, whose subject James
VI. is, and of whose kingdom not a king, nor a
lord, nor a head, but a member. And they whom
Christ hath called to watch over his kirk and gov
ern his spiritual kingdom have sufficient power and
authority so to do both together and severally."
In this bold and masterful speech we have the
whole political philosophy of Puritanism, as in a
nutshell. Under the guise of theocratic fanaticism,
and in words as arrogant as ever fell from priestly
lips, there was couched the assertion of the popu
lar will against despotic privilege. Mel
ville could say such things to the king's and Andrew
Melville.
face and walk away unharmed, because
there stood behind him a people fully aroused to
the conviction that there is an eternal law of God,
which kings no less than scullions must obey.1
Melville knew this full well, and so did James
know it in the bitterness of his heart. He would
have no such mischievous work in England. He
despised Elizabeth's grand national policy which
1 Green, History of the English People, iii. 47.

70 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
his narrow intellect could not comprehend. He
could see that in fighting Spain and aiding Dutch
men and Huguenots she was strengthening the
very spirit that sought to pull monarchy down.
In spite of her faults, which were neither few nor
small, the patriotism of that fearless woman was
superior to any personal ambition. It was quite
otherwise with James. He was by no means fear
less, and he cared more for James Stuart than for
either England or Scotland. He had an over
weening opinion of his skill in kingcraft.- In com
ing to Westminster it was his policy to use his
newly acquired power to break down the Puritan
party in both kingdoms and to fasten episcopacy
upon Scotland. In pursuing this policy he took
no heed of English national sentiment, but was
quite ready to defy and insult it, even to the point
of making — before children who remembered the
Armada had yet reached middle age — an alliance
with the hated Spaniard. In such wise James suc
ceeded in arraying against the monarchical prin
ciple the strongest forces of English life, — the
sentiment of nationality, the sentiment of personal
freedom, and the uncompromising religious fervour
of Calvinism ; and out of this invincible combina
tion of forces has been wrought the nobler and
happier state of society in which we live to-day.
Scarcely ten months had James been king of
England when he invited the leading Puritan cler
gymen to meet himself and the bishops in a con
ference at Hampton Court, as he wished to learn
what changes they would like to make in the gov
ernment and ritual of the church. In the course

THE PURITAN EXODUS. 71
of the discussion he lost his temper and stormed, as
was his wont. The mention of the word " presby
tery " lashed him into fury. " A Scottish presby
tery," he cried, " agreeth as well with a monarchy
as God and the Devil. Then Jack and K. James,a
Tom and Will and Dick shall meet, and p^^ .^
at their pleasures censure me and my tion-
council, and all our proceedings. . . . Stay, I pray
you, for one seven years, before you demand that
from me, and if then you find me pursy and fat,
and my windpipes stuffed, I will perhaps hearken
to you. . . . Until you find that I grow lazy, let
that alone." One of the bishops declared that in
this significant tirade his Majesty spoke by special
inspiration from Heaven ! The Puritans saw that
their only hope lay in resistance. If any doubt
remained, it was dispelled by the vicious threat
with which the king broke up the conference. " I
will make them conform," said he, " or I will harry
them out of the land."
These words made a profound sensation in
England, as well they might, for they heralded
the struggle which within half a century was to
deliver up James's son to the executioner. The
Parliament of 1604 met in angrier mood than any
Parliament which had assembled at Westminster
since the dethronement of Richard II. Among
the churches non-conformity began more decidedly
to assume the form of secession. The key-note of
the conflict was struck at Scrooby. Staunch Pu
ritan as he was, Brewster had not hitherto favoured
the extreme measures of the Separatists. Now he
withdrew from the church, and gathered together

72 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
a company of men and women who met on Sun
days for divine service in his own drawing-room
The congrega- at Scrooby Manor. In organizing this
r'a™st°sfatepa independent Congregationalist society,
Scrooby. Brewster was powerfully aided by John
Robinson, a native of Lincolnshire. Robinson
was then thirty years of age, and had taken his
master's degree at Cambridge in 1600. He was a
man of great learning and rare sweetness of tem
per, and was moreover distinguished for a broad
and tolerant habit of mind too seldom found
among the Puritans of that day. Friendly and
unfriendly writers alike bear witness to his spirit
of Christian charity and the comparatively slight
value which he attached to orthodoxy in points of
doctrine ; and we can hardly be wrong in suppos
ing that the comparatively tolerant behaviour of
the Plymouth colonists, whereby they were con
trasted with the settlers of Massachusetts, was in
some measure due to the abiding influence of the
teachings of this admirable man. Another impor
tant member of the Scrooby congregation was
William Bradford, of the neighbouring village of
Austerfield, then a lad of seventeen years, but
already remarkable for maturity of intelligence
and weight of character. Afterward governor of
Plymouth for nearly thirty years, he became the
historian of his colony ; and to his picturesque
chronicle, written in pure and vigorous English,
we are indebted for most that we know of the
migration that started from Scrooby and ended
in Plymouth.
It was in 1606 — two years after King James's

THE PURITAN EXODUS. 73
truculent threat — that this independent church of
Scrooby was organized. Another year had not
elapsed before its members had suffered so much at
the hands of officers of the law, that they began to
think of following the example of former heretics
and escaping to Holland. After an unsuccessful
attempt in the autumn of 1607, they at length suc
ceeded a few months later in accomplishing their
flight to Amsterdam, where they hoped to find a
home. But here they found the English exiles
who had preceded them so fiercely involved in doc
trinal controversies, that they decided to go further
in search of peace and quiet. This decision, which
we may ascribe to Robinson's wise counsels, served
to keep the society of Pilgrims from getting divided
and scattered. They reached Leyden in 1609, just
as the Spanish government had sullenly The m ht t0
abandoned the hopeless task of conquer- Holland-
ing the Dutch, and had granted to Holland the
Twelve Years Truce. During eleven of these
twelve years the Pilgrims remained in Leyden,
supporting themselves by various occupations,
while their numbers increased from 300 to more
than 1000. Brewster opened a publishing house,
devoted mainly to the issue of theological books.
Robinson accepted a professorship in the university,
and engaged in the defence of Calvinism against
the attacks of Episcopius, the successor of Armin
ius. The youthful Bradford devoted himself to the
study of languages, — Dutch, French, Latin, Greek,
and finally Hebrew ; wishing, as he said, to " see
with his own eyes the ancient oracles of God in all
their native beauty." During their sojourn in Ley-

74 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
den, the Pilgrims were introduced to a strange and
novel spectacle, — the systematic legal toleration
of all persons, whether Catholic or Protestant, who
called themselves followers of Christ. Not that
there was not plenty of intolerance in spirit, but the
policy inaugurated by the idolized William the Si
lent held it in check by law. All persons who came
to Holland, and led decorous lives there, were pro
tected in their opinions and customs. By contem
porary writers in other countries this eccentric be
haviour of the Dutch government was treated with
unspeakable scorn. " All strange religions flock
thither," says one ; it is " a common harbour of all
heresies," a " cage of unclean birds," says another ;
" the great mingle mangle of religion," says a third.1
In spite of the relief from persecution, however,
the Pilgrims were not fully satisfied with their
new home. The expiration of the truce with Spain
might prove that this relief was only temporary ;
and at any rate, complete toleration did not fill the
measure of their wants. Had they come to Hol
land as scattered bands of refugees, they might have
been absorbed into the Dutch population, as Hu
guenot refugees have been absorbed in Germany,
England, and America. But they had
WhythePil- ° . . . J
grimsdidnot come as an organized community, and
absorption into a foreign nation was
something to be dreaded. They wished to preserve
their English speech and English traditions, keep
up their organization, and find some favoured spot
where they might lay the corner-stone of a great
Christian state. The spirit of nationality was
1 Steele's Life of Brewster, p. 161.

THE PURITAN EXODUS. 75
strong in them ; the spirit of self-government was
strong in them ; and the only thing which could sat
isfy these feelings was such a migration as had not
been seen since ancient times, a migration like that
of Phokaians to Massilia or Tyrians to Carthage.
It was too late in the world's history to carry out
such a scheme upon European soil. Every acre of
territory there was appropriated. The only favour
able outlook was upon the Atlantic coast of Amer
ica, where English cruisers had now successfully
disputed the pretensions of Spain, and where after
forty years of disappointment and disaster a flour
ishing colony had at length been founded in Vir
ginia. The colonization of the North American
coast had now become part of the avowed policy of
the British government. In 1606 a great joint-
stock company was formed for the establishment of
two colonies in America. The branch which was
to take charge of the proposed southern colony had
its headquarters in London ; the management of
the northern branch was at Plymouth in Devon
shire. Hence the two branches are commonly
spoken of as the London and Plymouth companies.
The former was also called the Vir
ginia Company, and the latter the North and Plymouth
Virginia Company, as the name of Vir
ginia was then loosely applied to the entire Atlan
tic coast north of Florida. The London Company
had jurisdiction from 34° to 38° north latitude ;
the Plymouth Company had jurisdiction from 45°
down to 41° ; the intervening territory, between 38°
and 41° was to go to whichever company should
first plant a self-supporting colony. The local

76 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
government of each colony was to be entrusted to
a council resident in America and nominated by
the king ; while general supervision over both col
onies was to be exercised by a council resident in
England. In pursuance of this general plan, though with
some variations in detail, the settlement of James
town had been begun in 1607, and its success was
now beginning to seem assured. On the other
hand all the attempts which had been made to the
north of the fortieth parallel had failed miserably.
As early as 1602 Bartholomew Gosnold, with 32
men, had landed on the headland which they named
Cape Cod from the fish found thereabouts in great
numbers. This was the first English name given
to any spot in that part of America, and so far
as known these were the first Englishmen that ever
set foot there. They went on and gave names to
Martha's Vineyard and the Elizabeth
First explora- T1-,. -,-»,, -j^ ,-.
tion of the New Islands in Buzzard s Bay; and on Cutty-
England coast. ,,..., .
hunk they built some huts with the inten
tion of remaining, but after a month's experience
they changed their mind and went back to England.
Gosnold's story interested other captains, and on
Easter Sunday, 1605, George Weymouth set sail
for North Virginia, as it was called. He found
Cape Cod and coasted northward as far as the
Kennebec river, up which he sailed for many miles.
Weymouth kidnapped five Indians and carried
them to England, that they might learn the lan
guage and acquire a wholesome respect for the arts
of civilization and the resistless power of white
men. His glowing accounts of the spacious har-

THE PURITAN EXODUS. 77
bours, the abundance of fish and game, the noble
trees, the luxuriant herbage, and the balmy climate,
aroused general interest in England, and doubtless
had some influence upon the formation, in the fol
lowing year, of the great joint-stock company just
described. The leading spirit of the Plymouth
Company was Sir John Popham, chief-justice of
England, and he was not disposed to let his friends
of the southern branch excel him in promptness.
Within three months after the founding of James
town, a party of 120 colonists, led by the judge's
kinsman George Popham, landed at the mouth of
the Kennebec, and proceeded to build a rude vil
lage of some fifty cabins, with storehouse, chapel,
and block-house. When they landed in August
they doubtless shared Weymouth's opinion of the
climate. These Englishmen had heard of warm
countries like Italy and cold countries like Russia ;
harsh experience soon taught them that there are
climates in which the summer of Naples may alter
nate with the winter of Moscow. The president
and many others fell sick and died. News came
of the death of Sir John Popham in England, and
presently the weary and disappointed settlers aban
doned their enterprise and returned to their old
homes. Their failure spread abroad in England
the opinion that North Virginia was uninhabitable
by reason of the cold, and no further attempts were
made upon that coast until in 1614 it was visited
by Captain John Smith.
The romantic career of this gallant and garrulous
hero did not end with his departure from the infant
colony at Jamestown. By a curious destiny his

78 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
fame is associated with the beginnings of both the
southern and the northern portions of the United
States. To Virginia Smith may be said to have
given its very existence as a common-
John Smith. ° *
wealth ; to New Lngland he gave its
name. In 1614 he came over with two ships to
North Virginia, explored its coast minutely from
the Penobscot river to Cape Cod, and thinking it a
country of such extent and importance as to deserve
a name of its own, rechristened it New England.
On returning home he made a very good map of
the coast and dotted it with English names sug
gested by Prince Charles. Of these names Cape
Elizabeth, Cape Ann, Charles River, and Plymouth
still remain where Smith placed them. In 1615
Smith again set sail for the New World, this time
with a view to planting a colony under the auspices
of the Plymouth Company, but his talent for strange
adventures had not deserted him. He was taken
prisoner by a French fleet, carried hither and
thither on a long cruise, and finally set ashore at
Rochelle, whence, without a penny in his pocket, he
contrived to make his way back to England. Per
haps Smith's life of hardship may have made him
prematurely old. After all his wild and varied ex
perience he was now only in his thirty-seventh year,
but he does not seem to have gone on any more voy
ages. The remaining sixteen years of his life were
spent quietly in England in writing books, publish
ing maps, and otherwise stimulating the public in
terest in the colonization of the New World. But
as for the rocky coast of New England, which he
had explored and named, he declared that he was

THE PURITAN EXODUS. 79
not so simple as to suppose that any other motive
than riches would "ever erect there a common
wealth or draw company from their ease and hu
mours at home, to stay in New England."
In this opinion, however, the bold explorer was
mistaken. Of all migrations of peoples the settle
ment of New England is preeminently the one in
which the almighty dollar played the smallest part,
however important it may since have become as a
motive power. It was left for religious enthusiasm
to achieve what commercial enterprise had failed
to accomplish. By the summer of 1617 the Pilgrim
society at Leyden had decided to send a detachment
of its most vigorous members to lay the foundations
of a Puritan state in America. There had been
much discussion as to the fittest site for such a col
ony. Many were in favour of Guiana, which Sir
Walter Raleigh had described in such glowing col
ours ; but it was thought that the tropical climate
would be ill-suited to northern men of industrious
and thrifty habit, and the situation, moreover, was
dangerously exposed to the Spaniards. Half a
century had scarcely elapsed since the wholesale
massacre of Huguenots in Florida. Virginia was
then talked of, but Episcopal ideas had already
taken root there. New England, on the other hand,
was considered too cold. Popham's experience was
not encouraging. But the country about the Del
aware river afforded an opportunity for The Pilgrims
erecting an independent colony under cia^'make"
the jurisdiction of the London Company, "^ th^Deia-
and this seemed the best course to pur- ware rlTer'
sue. Sir Edwin Sandys, the leading spirit in the

80 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
London Company, was favourably inclined toward
Puritans, and through him negotiations were begun.
Capital to the amount of £7000 was furnished
by seventy merchant adventurers in England, and
the earnings of the settlers were to be thrown into
a common stoek until these subscribers should have
been remunerated. A grant of land was obtained
from the London Company, and the king was asked
to protect the emigrants by a charter, but this was
refused. James, however, made no objections to
their going, herein showing himself less of a bigot
than Louis XIV. in later days, who would not suf
fer a Huguenot to set foot in Canada, though
France was teeming with Huguenots who would
have been glad enough to go. When James in
quired how the colonists expected to support them
selves, some one answered, most likely by fishing.
"Very good," quoth the king, " it was the Apostles'
own calling." He declared that no one should
molest them so long as they behaved themselves
properly.' From this unwonted urbanity it would
appear that James anticipated no trouble from the
new colony. A few Puritans in America could not
do much to annoy him, and there was of course a
fair chance of their perishing, as so many other col
onizers had perished.
The congregation at Leyden did not think it
wise to cut loose from Holland until they should
have secured a foothold in America. It was but
an advance guard that started out from Delft
haven late in July, 1620, in the rickety ship Speed
well, with Brewster and Bradford, and sturdy Miles
Standish, a trained soldier whose aid was welcome,

THE PURITAN EXODUS. 81
though he does not seem to have belonged to the
congregation. Robinson remained at Leyden, and
never came to America. After a brief stop at
Southampton, where they met the Mayflower with
friends from London, the Pilgrims again set sail
in the two ships. The Speedwell sprang a leak,
and they stopped at Dartmouth for repairs. Again
they started, and had put three hundred miles of
salt water between themselves and Land's End,
when the Speedwell leaked so badly that they were
forced to return. When they dropped anchor at
Plymouth in Devonshire, about twenty were left
on shore, and the remainder, exactly one hundred
in number, crowded into the Mayflower and on the
6th of September started once more to Voya(„ of the
cross the Atlantic. The capacity of the M^wer.
little ship was 180 tons, and her strength was but
slight. In a fierce storm in mid-ocean a mainbeam
amidships was wrenched and cracked, and but for
a huge iron screw which one of the passengers had
brought from Delft, they might have gone to the
bottom. The foul weather prevented any accurate
calculation of latitude and longitude, and they were
so far out in their reckoning that when they caught
sight of land on the 9th of November, it was to
Cape Cod that they had come. Their patent gave
them no authority to settle here, as it was beyond
the jurisdiction of the London Company. They
turned their prow southward, but encountering
perilous shoals and a stiff headwind they desisted
and sought shelter in Cape Cod bay. On the 11th
they decided to find some place of abode in this
neighbourhood, anticipating no difficulty in getting

82 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
a patent from the Plymouth Company, which was
anxious to obtain settlers. For five weeks they
stayed in the ship while little parties were explor
ing the coast and deciding upon the best site for a
undin of town. It was purely a coincidence that
Plymouth. ^g Sp0^ which they chose had already
received from John Smith the name of Plymouth,
the beautiful port in Devonshire from which the
Mayflower had sailed.
There was not much to remind them of home
in the snow-covered coast on which they landed.
They had hoped to get their rude houses built be
fore the winter should set in, but the many delays
and mishaps had served to bring them ashore in
the coldest season. When the long winter came
to an end, fifty-one of the hundred Pilgrims had
died, — a mortality even greater than that before
which the Popham colony had succumbed. But
Brewster spoke truth when he said, " It is not with
us as with men whom small things can discourage
or small discontentments cause to wish themselves
at home again." At one time the living were
scarcely able to bury the dead ; only Brewster,
Standish, and five other hardy ones were well
enough to get about. At first they were crowded
under a single roof, and as glimpses were caught
of dusky savages skulking among the trees, a plat
form was built on the nearest hill and a few can
non were placed there in such wise as to command
the neighbouring valleys and plains. By the end
of the first summer the platform had grown to a
fortress, down from which to the harbour led a
village street with seven houses finished and others

THE PURITAN EXODUS. 83
going up. Twenty-six acres had been cleared, and
a plentiful harvest gathered in ; venison, wild fowl,
and fish were easy to obtain. When provisions and
fuel had been laid in for the ensuing winter, Gov
ernor Bradford appointed a day of Thanksgiving.
Town-meetings had already been held, and a few
laws passed. The history of New England had
begun. This had evidently been a busy summer for the
forty-nine survivors. On the 9th of November,
the anniversary of the day on which they had
sighted land, a ship was descried in the offing.
She was the Fortune, bringing some fifty more of
the Leyden company. It was a welcome reinforce
ment, but it diminished the rations of food that
could be served during the winter, for the Fortune
was not well supplied. When she set sail for Eng
land, she carried a little cargo of beaver-skins and
choice wood for wainscoting to the value of £500
sterling, as a first instalment of the sum due to the
merchant adventurers. But this cargo never
reached England, for the Fortune was overhauled
by a French cruiser and robbed of everything
worth carrying away.
For two years more it was an anxious and diffi
cult time for the new colony. By 1624 its success
may be said to have become assured. That the
Indians in the neighbourhood had not taken ad
vantage of the distress of the settlers in that first
winter, and massacred every one of them, was due
to a remarkable circumstance. Early in 1617 a
frightful pestilence had swept over New England
and slain, it is thought, more than half the Indian

84 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
population between the Penobscot river and Nar
ragansett bay. Many of the Indians were inclined
to attribute this calamity to the murder of two or
three white fishermen the year before. They had
not got over the superstitious dread with which
the first sight of white men had inspired them, and
now they believed that the strangers held the
demon of the plague at their disposal and had let
him loose upon the red men in revenge for the
murders they had committed. This wholesome de-
Why the coi- hision kept their tomahawks quiet for a
atteckedby while. When they saw the Englishmen
the Indians, establishing themselves at Plymouth,
they at first held a powwow in the forest, at which
the new-comers were cursed with all the elaborate
ingenuity that the sorcery of the medicine-men
could summon for so momentous an occasion ; but
it was deemed best to refrain from merely human
methods of attack. It was not until the end of
the first winter that any of them mustered courage
to visit the palefaces. Then an Indian named
Samoset, who had learned a little English from
fishermen and for his own part was inclined to be
friendly, came one day into the village with words
of welcome. He was so kindly treated that pres
ently Massasoit, principal sachem of the Wampa
noags, who dwelt between Narragansett and Cape
Cod bays, came with a score of painted and feath
ered warriors and squatting on a green rug and
cushions in the governor's log-house smoked the
pipe of peace, while Standish with half-a-dozen mus
keteers stood quietly by. An offensive and defen
sive alliance was then and there made between King

THE PURITAN EXODUS. 85
Massasoit and King James, and the treaty was
faithfully kept for half a century. Some time af
terward, when Massasoit had fallen sick and lay
at death's door, his life was saved by Edward
Winslow, who came to his wigwam and skilfully
nursed him. Henceforth the Wampanoag thought
well of the Pilgrim. The powerful Narragansetts,
who dwelt on the farther side of the bay, felt dif
ferently, and thought it worth while to try the ef
fect of a threat. A little while after the Fortune
had brought its reinforcement, the Narragansett
sachem Canonicus sent a messenger to Plymouth
with a bundle of newly-made arrows wrapped in a
snake-skin. The messenger threw it in at the gov
ernor's door and made off with unseemly haste.
Bradford understood this as a challenge, and in
this he was confirmed by a friendly Wampanoag.
The Narragansetts could muster 2000 warriors, for
whom forty or fifty Englishmen, even with fire
arms, were hardly a fair match ; but it would not
do to show fear. Bradford stuffed the snake-skin
with powder and bullets, and sent it back to Canon
icus, telling him that if he wanted war he might
come whenever he liked and get his fill of it.
When the sachem saw what the skin contained, he
was afraid to touch it or have it about, and medi
cine-men, handling it no doubt gingerly enough,
carried it out of his territory.
It was a fortunate miscalculation that brought
the Pilgrims to New England. Had they ventured
upon the lands between the Hudson and the Del
aware, they would probably have fared worse.
They would soon have come into collision with the

86 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
Dutch, and not far from that neighbourhood dwelt
the Susquehannocks, at that time one of the most
powerful and ferocious tribes on the continent.
For the present the new-comers were less likely to
be molested in the Wampanoag country than any
where else. In the course of the year 1621 they
obtained their grant from the Plymouth Company.
This grant was not made to them directly but to the
joint-stock company of merchant adventurers with
whom they were associated. But the alliance be
tween the Pilgrims and these London merchants
was not altogether comfortable ; there was too
much divergence between their aims. In 1627 the
settlers, wishing to be entirely independent, bought
up all the stock and paid for it by instalments from
the fruits of their labour. By 1633 they had paid
every penny, and become the undisputed owners of
the country they had occupied.
Such was the humble beginning of that great
Puritan exodus from England to America which
had so much to do with founding and peopling the
United States. These Pilgrims of the Mayflower
were but the pioneers of a mighty host. Histori
cally their enterprise is interesting not so much for
what it achieved as for what it suggested. Of it
self the Plymouth colony could hardly have become
a wealthy and powerful state. Its growth was ex
tremely slow. After ten years its numbers were
but three hundred. In 1643, when the exodus had
come to an end, and the New England Confederacy
was formed, the population of Plymouth was but
three thousand. In an established community, in
deed, such a rate of increase would be rapid, but it

THE PURITAN EXODUS. 87
was not sufficient to raise in New England a power
which could overcome Indians and Dutchmen and
Frenchmen, and assert its will in opposition to the
crown. It is when we view the founding of Plym
outh in relation to what came afterward, that it
assumes the importance which belongs to the begin
ning of a new era.
We have thus seen how it was that the political
aspirations of James I. toward absolute sovereignty
resulted in the beginnings of the Puritan exodus
to America. In the next chapter we shall see how
the still more arbitrary policy of his ill-fated son all
at once gave new dimensions to that exodus and
resulted in the speedy planting of a high-spirited
and powerful New England.

CHAPTER III.
THE PLANTING OP NEW ENGLAND.
When Captain George Weymouth in the sum
mer of 1605 sailed into the harbour of Plymouth
in Devonshire, with his five kidnapped savages and
his glowing accounts of the country since known
as New England, the garrison of that fortified sea
port was commanded by Sir Ferdinando Gorges.
The Christian name of this person now strikes us
as rather odd, but in those days it was not so un
common in England, and it does not necessarily in
dicate a Spanish or Italian ancestry for its bearer.
Gorges was a man of considerable ability, but not
of high character. On the downfall of his old pa
tron the Earl of Essex he had contrived to save his
own fortunes by a course of treachery and ingrati
tude. He had served in the Dutch war against
Spain, and since 1596 had been military governor
of Plymouth. The sight of Weymouth's Indians
and the recital of his explorations awakened the in
terest of Gorges in the colonization of North Amer
ica. He became one of the most active members of
the Plymouth, or North Virginia, Company estab
lished in the following year. It was he who took
the leading part in fitting out the two ships with
which John Smith started on his unsuccessful ex
pedition in 1615. In the following years he con-

THE PLANTING OF NEW ENGLAND. 89
tinued to send out voyages of exploration, became
largely interested in the fisheries, and at length in
1620 succeeded in obtaining a new patent for the
Plymouth Company, by which it was made inde
pendent of the London Company, its old yoke-fel
low and rival. This new document created a cor
poration of forty patentees who, sitting in council
as directors of their enterprise, were
known as the Council for New England. Gorges, and
rr,, . , ,. , . ., „. the Council
1 he president ot this council was King for New Eng-
James's unpopular favourite the Duke
of Buckingham, and its most prominent members
were the earls of Pembroke and Lenox, Sir Ferdi
nando Gorges, and Shakespeare's friend the Earl
of Southampton. This council was empowered to
legislate for its American territory, to exercise mar
tial law there and expel all intruders, and to exer
cise a monopoly of trade within the limits of the
patent. Such extensive powers, entrusted to a com
pany of which Buckingham was the head, excited
popular indignation, and in the great struggle
against monopolies which was then going on, the
Plymouth Company did not fail to serve as a target
for attacks. It started, however, with too little
capital to enter upon schemes involving immediate
outlay, and began almost from the first to seek to
increase its income by letting or selling portions of
its territory, which extended from the latitude of
Philadelphia to that of Quebec, thus encroaching
upon regions where Holland and France were al
ready gaining a foothold. It was from this company
that the merchant adventurers associated with the
Mayflower Pilgrims obtained their new patent in

90 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
the summer of 1621, and for the next fifteen years
all settlers in New England based their claims to
the soil upon territorial rights conveyed to them
by the Plymouth Company. The grants, however,
were often ignorantly and sometimes unscrupu
lously made, and their limits were so ill-defined
that much quarrelling ensued.
During the years immediately following the
voyage of the Mayflower, several attempts at set
tlement were made about the shores of Massachu
setts bay. One of the merchant adventurers,
Thomas Weston, took it into his head in 1622 to
separate from his partners and send out a colony
of seventy men on his own account. These men
made a settlement at Wessagusset, some twenty-
five miles north of Plymouth. They were a disor
derly, thriftless rabble, picked up from the London
streets, and soon got into trouble with the Indians ;
after a year they were glad to get back to England
as best they could, and in this the Plymouth set
tlers willingly aided them. In June of that same
year 1622 there arrived on the scene a pictur
esque but ill understood personage, Thomas Mor
ton, " of Clifford's Inn, Gent.," as he tells on the
title-page of his quaint and delightful book, the
" New English Canaan." Bradford disparagingly
says that he " had been a kind of petie-fogger of
Furnifell's Inn " ; but the churchman
Wessagusset 0 i -n j- 'iii
and Merry- Samuel Maverick declares that he was a
mount. " gentleman of good qualitie." He was
an agent of Sir Ferdinando Gorges, and came with
some thirty followers to make the beginnings of a
royalist and Episcopal settlement in the Massachu-

THE PLANTING OF NEW ENGLAND. 91
setts bay. He was naturally regarded with ill
favour by the Pilgrims as well as by the later Pu
ritan settlers, and their accounts of him will prob
ably bear taking with a grain or two of salt.
In 1625 there came one Captain Wollaston, with
a gang of indented white servants, and established
himself on the site of the present town of Quincy.
Finding this system of industry ill suited to north
ern agriculture, he carried most of his men off to
Virginia, where he sold them. Morton took posses
sion of the site of the settlement, which he called
Merrymount. There, according to Bradford, he set
up a " schoole of athisme," and his men did quaff
strong waters and comport themselves " as if they
had anew revived and celebrated the feasts of ye
Roman Goddes Flora, or the beastly practices of
y" madd Baehanalians." Charges of atheism have
been freely hurled about in all ages. In Morton's
case the accusation seems to have been based upon
the fact that he used the Book of Common Prayer.
His men so far maintained the ancient customs of
merry England as to plant a Maypole eighty feet
high, about which they frolicked with the redskins,
while furthermore they taught them the use of fire
arms and sold them muskets and rum. This was
positively dangerous, and in the summer of 1628
the settlers at Merrymount were dispersed by Miles
Standish. Morton was sent to England, but re
turned the next year, and presently again repaired
to Merrymount.
By this time other settlements were dotted about
the coast. There were a few scattered cottages or
cabins at Nantasket and at the mouth of the Pis-

92 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
cataqua, while Samuel Maverick had fortified him-
self on Noddle's Island, and William Blackstone
already lived upon the Shawmut peninsula, since
called Boston. These two gentlemen were no
friends to the Puritans ; they were churchmen and
representatives of Sir Ferdinando Gorges.
The case was very different with another of these
earliest settlements, which deserves especial men
tion as coming directly in the line of causation
which led to the founding of Massachusetts by
Puritans. For some years past the Dor-
The Dorches- . -. , n
ter adventur- Chester adventurers — a small company
of merchants in the shire town of Dorset
— had been sending vessels to catch fish off the
New England coast. In 1623 these men conceived
the idea of planting a small village as a fishing
station, and setting up a church and preacher
therein, for the spiritual solace of the fishermen
and sailors. In pursuance of this scheme a small
party occupied Cape Ann, where after two years
they got into trouble with the men of Plymouth.
Several grants and assignments had made it doubt
ful where the ownership lay, and although this
place was not near their own town, the men of
Plymouth claimed it. The dispute was amicably
arranged by Roger Conant, an independent settler
who had withdrawn from Plymouth because he did
not fully sympathize with the Separatist views of
the people there. The next step was for the Dor
chester adventurers to appoint Conant as their
manager, and the next was for them to abandon
their enterprise, dissolve their partnership, and
leave the remnant of the little colony to shift for

THE PLANTING OF NEW ENGLAND. 93
itself. The settlers retained their tools and cattle,
and Conant found for them a new and safer situa
tion at Naumkeag, on the site of the present Salem.
So far little seemed to have been accomplished ;
one more seemed added to the list of failures.
But the excellent John White, the Puritan rector
of Trinity Church in Dorchester, had meditated
carefully about these things. He saw that many
attempts at colonization had failed because they
made use of unfit instruments, " a multitude of
rude ungovernable persons, the very scum of the
land." So Virginia had failed in its first years,
and only succeeded when settled by worthy and in
dustrious people under a strong government. The
example of Plymouth, as contrasted with Wessa
gusset, taught a similar lesson. We desire, said
White, " to raise a bulwark against the kingdom
of Antichrist." Learn wisdom, my countrymen,
from the ruin which has befallen the Protestants
at Rochelle and in the Palatinate ; learn " to avoid
the plague while it is foreseen, and not
. John White
to tarry as they did till it overtook and his noble
scheme.
them." The Puritan party in England
was numerous and powerful, but the day of strife
was not far off and none might foretell its issue.
Clearly it was well to establish a strong and secure
retreat in the New World, in case of disaster in the
Old. What had been done at Plymouth by a few
men of humble means might be done on a much
greater scale by an association of leading Puritans,
including men of wealth and wide social influence.
Such arguments were urged in timely pamphlets, of
one of which White is supposed to have been the

94 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
author. The matter was discussed in London, and
inquiry was made whether fit men could be found
" to engage their persons in the voyage." " It fell
out that among others they lighted at last on Mas
ter Endicott, a man well known to divers persons
of good note, who manifested much willingness to
accept of the offer as soon as it was tendered."
All were thereby much encouraged, the schemes
of White took definite shape, and on the 19th of
March, 1628, a tract of land was obtained from the
Council for New England, consisting of all the ter
ritory included between three miles north of the
Merrimack and three miles south of the Charles in
one direction, and the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans
in the other.
This liberal grant was made at a time when peo
ple still supposed the Pacific coast to be not far
west of Henry Hudson's river. The territory was
granted to an association of six gentlemen, only one
of whom — John Endicott — figures conspicuously
in the history of New England. The grant was
conflicting made in the usual reckless style, and
Ssof°w conflicted with various patents which
trouble- had been issued before. In 1622 Gorges
and John Mason had obtained a grant of all the
land between the rivers Kennebec and Merrimack,
and the new grant encroached somewhat upon this.
The difficulty seems to have been temporarily ad
justed by some sort of compromise which restricted
the new grant to the Merrimack, for in 1629 we
find Mason's title confirmed to the region between
that river and the Piscataqua, while later on Gor
ges appears as proprietor of the territory between

THE PLANTING OF NEW ENGLAND. 95
the Piscataqua and the Kennebec. A more serious
difficulty was the claim of Robert Gorges, son of
Sir Ferdinando. That young man had in 1623
obtained a grant of some 300 square miles in
Massachusetts, and had gone to look after it, but
had soon returned discouraged to England and
shortly afterward died. But his claim devolved
upon his surviving brother, John Gorges, and Sir
Ferdinando, in consenting to the grant to Endicott
and his friends, expressly reserved the rights of his
sons. No such reservation, however, was mentioned
in the Massachusetts charter, and the colonists
never paid the slightest heed to it. In these con
flicting claims were sown seeds of trouble which
bore fruit for more than half a century.
In such cases actual possession is apt to make
nine points in the law, and accordingly Endicott
was sent over, as soon as possible, with sixty per
sons, to reinforce the party at Naum-
. , -i /-^ j_ •.._ i i John Endicott
keag and. supersede Conant as its leader, and the found-
On Endicott's arrival in September,
1628, the settlers were at first inclined to dispute
his authority, but they were soon conciliated, and in
token of this amicable adjustment the place was
called by the Hebrew name of Salem, or " peace."
Meanwhile Mr. White and the partners in Eng
land were pushing things vigorously. Their scheme
took a wider scope. They were determined to es
tablish something more than a trading company.
From Charles I. it was sometimes easy to get prom
ises because he felt himself under no obligation to
keep them. In March, 1629, a royal charter was
granted, creating a corporation, under the legal

96 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
style of the Governor and Company of Massachu
setts Bay in New England. The affairs of this cor
porate body were to be managed by a
The Company , l -l
of Massachu- governor, deputy-governor, and a council
of eighteen assistants, to be elected an
nually by the company. They were empowered to
make such laws as they liked for their settlers, pro
vided they did not contravene the laws of England,
— a proviso susceptible of much latitude of inter
pretation. The place where the company was to
hold its meetings was not mentioned in the charter.
The law-officers of the crown at first tried to insert
a condition that the government must reside in
England, but the grantees with skilful argument
succeeded in preventing this. Nothing was said
in the charter about religious liberty, for a twofold
reason : the crown would not have granted it, and
it was not what the grantees wanted ; such a pro
vision would have been liable to hamper them seri
ously in carrying out their scheme. They preferred
to keep in their own hands the question as to how
much or how little religious liberty they should
claim or allow. Six small ships were presently fit
ted out, and upon them were embarked 300 men,
80 women, and 26 children, with 140 head of cattle,
40 goats, and abundance of arms, ammunition, and
tools. The principal leader of this company was
Francis Higginson, of St. John's College, Cam
bridge, rector of a church in Leicestershire, who
had been deprived of his living for non-conformity.
With him were associated two other ministers, also
graduates of Cambridge. All three were members
of the council. By the arrival of this company at

THE PLANTING OF NEW ENGLAND. 97
Salem, Endicott now became governor of a colony
larger than any yet started in New England, — lar
ger than Plymouth after its growth of nearly nine
years. The time was at length ripe for that great Puri
tan exodus of which the voyage of the Mayflower
had been the premonitory symptom. The grand
crisis for the Puritans had come, the moment
when decisive action could no longer be deferred.
It was not by accident that the rapid develop
ment of John White's enterprise into the Com
pany of Massachusetts Bay coincided exactly with
the first four years of the reign of Charles I.
They were years well fitted to bring such a scheme
to quick maturity. The character of Charles was
such as to exacerbate the evils of his father's reign.
James could leave some things alone in the com
fortable hope that all would by and by come out
right, but Charles was not satisfied without med
dling everywhere. Both father and son cherished
some good intentions ; both were sincere believers
in their narrow theory of kingcraft. For wrong-
headed obstinacy, utter want of tact, and bottom
less perfidy, there was little to choose between them.
The humorous epitaph of the grandson " whose
word no man relies on " might have served for them
all. But of this unhappy family Charles
I. was eminently the dreamer. He lived
in a world of his own, and was slow in rendering
thought into action ; and this made him rely upon
the quick-witted but unwise and unscrupulous
Buckingham,1 who was silly enough to make feeble
1 Gardiner, Puritan Revolution, p. 50.

98 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
attempts at unpopular warfare without consulting
Parliament. During each of Charles's first four
years there was an angry session of Parliament, in
which, through the unwillingness of the popular
leaders to resort to violence, the king's policy
seemed able to hold its ground. Despite all pro
test the king persisted in levying strange taxes and
was to some extent able to collect them. Men who
refused to pay enforced loans were thrown into jail
and the writ of habeas corpus was denied them.
Meanwhile the treatment of Puritans became more
and more vexatious. It was clear enough that
Charles meant to become an absolute monarch, like
Louis XIIL, but Parliament began by throwing
all the blame upon the unpopular minister and
seeking to impeach him.
On the 5th of June, 1628, the House of Commons
presented the most extraordinary spectacle, perhaps
Remarkable ln a^ ^s history. The f amous Petition
House'ofc'om- °^ Right had been passed by both
mons. Houses, and the royal answer had just
been received. Its tone was that of gracious as
sent, but it omitted the necessary legal formali
ties, and the Commons well knew what this meant.
They were to be tricked with sweet words, and
the petition was not to acquire the force of a
statute. How was it possible to deal with such
a slippery creature ? There was but one way of
saving the dignity of the throne without sacrificing
the liberty of the people, and that was to hold the
king's ministers responsible to Parliament, in an
ticipation of modern methods. It was accordingly
proposed to impeach the Duke of Buckingham

THE PLANTING OF NEW ENGLAND. 99
before the House of Lords. The Speaker now
" brought an imperious message from the king, . . .
warning them . . . that he would not tolerate any
aspersion upon his ministers." Nothing daunted
by this, Sir John Eliot arose to lead the debate,
when the Speaker called him to order in view of
the king's message. " Amid a deadly stillness "
Eliot sat down and burst into tears. For a mo
ment the House was overcome with despair. De
prived of all constitutional methods of redress,
they suddenly saw yawning before them the direful
alternative — slavery or civil war. Since the day
of Bosworth a hundred and fifty years had passed
without fighting worthy of mention on English soil,
such an era of peace as had hardly ever before been
seen on the earth ; now half the nation was to be
pitted against the other half, families were to be di
vided against themselves, as in the dreadful days
of the Roses, and with what consequences no one
could foresee. " Let us sit in silence," quoth Sir
Dudley Digges, " we are miserable, we know not
what to do ! " Nay, cried Sir Nathaniel Rich, " we
must now speak, or forever hold our peace." Then
did grim Mr. Prynne and Sir Edward Coke min
gle their words with sobs, while there were few dry
eyes in the House. Presently they found their
voices, and used them in a way that wrung from
the startled king his formal assent to the Petition
of Right.
There is something strangely pathetic and his
torically significant1 in the emotion of these stern,
1 It is now 204 years since a battle has been fought in England.
The last was Sedgmoor in 1685. For fbur centuries, since Bos
worth, in 1485, the English people have lived in peace in their

100 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
fearless men. The scene was no less striking on
the 2d of the following March, when, "amid the
cries and entreaties of the Speaker held down in
his chair by force," while the Usher of the Black
Rod was knocking loudly at the bolted door, and
the tramp of the king's soldiers was heard in the
courtyard, Eliot's clear voice rang out the defiance
that whoever advised the levy of tonnage and
poundage without a grant from Parliament, or
whoever voluntarily paid those duties, was to be
counted an enemy to the kingdom and a betrayer
of its liberties. As shouts of " Aye, aye," re
sounded on every side, " the doors were flung open,
and the members poured forth in a throng." The
noble Eliot went to end his days in the Tower, and
for eleven years no Parliament sat again in Eng
land.1 It was in one and the same week that Charles I.
thus began his experiment of governing without a
Parliament, and that he granted a charter to the
Company of Massachusetts Bay. He was very far, as
we shall see, from realizing the import of
tur?ofathe na~ what he was doing. To the Puritan lead
ers it was evident that a great struggle
was at hand. Affairs at home might well seem des-
own homes, except for the brief episode of the Great Rebellion,
and Monmouth's slight affair. This long peace, unparalleled in
history, has powerfully influenced the English and American
character for good. Since the Middle Ages most English warfare
has been warfare at a distance, and that does not nourish the
brutal passions in the way that warfare at home does. An in
structive result is to be seen in the mildness of temper which
characterized the conduct of our stupendous Civil War. Nothing
like it was ever seen before.
1 Pieton's Cromwell, pp. 61, 67 ; Gardiner, Puritan Revolution,
p. 72.

THE PLANTING OF NEW ENGLAND. 101
perate, and the news from abroad was not encourag
ing. It was only four months since the surrender
of Rochelle had ended the existence of the Hugue
nots as an armed political party. They had now
sunk into the melancholy condition of a tolerated
sect which may at any moment cease to be tolerated.
In Germany the terrible Thirty Years War had
just reached the darkest moment for the Protest
ants. Fifteen months were yet to pass before the
immortal Gustavus was to cross the Baltic and give
to the sorely harassed cause of liberty a fresh lease
of life. The news of the cruel Edict of Restitution
in this same fateful month of March, 1629, could
not but give the English Puritans great concern.
Everywhere in Europe the champions of human
freedom seemed worsted. They might well think
that never had the prospect looked so dismal ; and
never before, as never since, did the venture of a
wholesale migration to the New World so strongly
recommend itself as the only feasible escape from
a situation that was fast becoming intolerable.
Such were the anxious thoughts of the leading
Puritans in the spring of 1629, and in face of so
grave a problem different minds came naturally to
different conclusions. Some were for staying in
England to fight it out to the bitter end ; some
were for crossing the ocean to create a new Eng
land in the wilderness. Either task was arduous
enough, and not to be achieved without steadfast
and sober heroism.
On the 26th of August twelve gentlemen, among
the most eminent in the Puritan party, held a meet
ing at Cambridge, and resolved to lead a migration

102 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
to New England, provided the charter of the Mas
sachusetts Bay Company and the government es
tablished under it could be transferred
Transfer of the ,. s^. ,. ..
charter ; John to that country. Un examination it ap-
ThomasDud- peared that no legal obstacle stood in
the way. Accordingly such of the old
officers as did not wish to take part in the emi
gration resigned their places, which were forthwith
filled by these new leaders. For governor the
choice fell upon John Winthrop, a wealthy gentle
man from Groton in Suffolk, who was henceforth
to occupy the foremost place among the founders
of New England. Winthrop was at this time
forty-one years of age, having been born in the
memorable year of the Armada. He was a man
of remarkable strength and beauty of character,
grave and modest, intelligent and scholarlike, in
tensely religious and endowed with a moral sensi
tiveness that was almost morbid, yet liberal withal
in his opinions and charitable in disposition. When
his life shall have been adequately written, as it
never has been, he will be recognized as one of the
very noblest figures in American history. From
early youth he had that same power of winning
confidence and commanding respect for which
Washington was so remarkable ; and when he was
selected as the Moses of the great Puritan exodus,
there was a wide-spread feeling that extraordinary
results were likely to come of such an enterprise.
In marked contrast to Winthrop stands the fig
ure of the man associated with him as deputy-gov
ernor. Thomas Dudley came of an ancient family,
the history of which, alike in the old and in the

THE PLANTING OF NEW ENGLAND. 103
new England, has not been altogether credita
ble. He represented the elder branch of that Nor
man family, to the younger branch of which be
longed the unfortunate husband of Lady Jane Grey
and the unscrupulous husband of Amy Robsart,
There was, however, very little likeness to Eliza
beth's gay lover in grim Thomas Dudley. His
Puritanism was bleak and stern, and for Christian
charity he was not eminent. He had a foible for
making verses, and at his death there was found in
his pocket a poem of his, containing a quatrain
wherein the intolerance of that age is neatly
summed up : —
" Let men of God in courts and churches watch
O'er such as do a Toleration hatch,
Lest that ill egg bring forth a cockatrice
To poison all with heresy and vice."
Such was the spirit of most of the Puritans of that
day, but in the manifestation of it there were great
differences, and here was the strong contrast be
tween Dudley and Winthrop. In the former we
have the typical narrow-minded, strait-laced Cal-
vinist for whom it is so much easier to entertain
respect than affection. But Winthrop's character,
as we look at the well-known portrait ascribed to
Van Dyck, is revealed in a face expressive of what
was finest in the age of Elizabeth, the face of a
spiritual brother of Raleigh and Sidney.
The accession of two men so important as Win
throp and Dudley served to bring matters speedily
to a crisis. Their embarkation in April, 1630, was
the signal for a general movement on the part of
the English Puritans. Before Christmas of that

104 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
year seventeen ships had come to New England,
bringing more than 1000 passengers. This huge
wave of immigration quite overwhelmed
Ma^Lchu- ° and bore away the few links of posses
sion by which Gorges had thus far kept
his hold upon the country. In January, 1629, John
Gorges had tried to assert the validity of his late
brother's claim by executing conveyances covering
portions of it. One of these was to John Oldham,
a man who had been harshly treated at Plymouth,
and might be supposed very ready to defend his
rights against settlers of the Puritan company.
Gorges further maintained that he retained posses
sion of the country through the presence of his
brother's tenants, Blackstone, Maverick, Walford,
and others on the shores of the bay. In June,
1629, Endicott had responded by sending forward
some fifty persons from Salem to begin the settle
ment of Charlestown. Shortly before Winthrop's
departure from England, Gorges had sent that sin
gular personage Sir Christopher Gardiner to look
after his interests in the New World, and there he
was presently found established near the mouth of
the Neponset river, in company with " a comly
yonge woman whom he caled his cousin." But
these few claimants were now at once lost in the
human tide which poured over Charlestown, Bos
ton, Newtown, Watertown, Roxbury, and Dorches
ter. The settlement at Merrymount was again
dispersed, and Morton sent back to London ; Gar
diner fled to the coast of Maine and thence sailed
for England in 1632. The Puritans had indeed
occupied the country in force.

THE PLANTING OF NEW ENGLAND. 105
Here on the very threshold we are confronted by
facts which show that not a mere colonial planta
tion, but a definite and organized state was in pro
cess of formation. The emigration was not like
that of Jamestown or of Plymouth. It sufficed at
once to make the beginnings of half a dozen towns,
and the question as to self-government immediately
sprang up. Early in 1631 a tax of ,£60 was assessed
upon the settlements, in order to pay for building
frontier fortifications at Newtown. This incident
was in itself of small dimensions, as incidents in
newly founded states are apt to be. But in its
historic import it may serve to connect the Eng
land of John Hampden with the New England of
Samuel Adams. The inhabitants of Watertown
at first declined to pay this tax, which was assessed
by the Board of Assistants, on the ground that
English freemen cannot rightfully be taxed save
by their own consent. This protest led to a change
in the constitution of the infant colony, and here,
at once, we are introduced to the begin
nings of American constitutional history, as toqseu-gov-
At first it was thought that public busi- raised °t wa-
ness could be transacted by a primary
assembly of all the freemen in the colony meeting
four times in the year ; but the number of freemen
increased so fast that this was almost at once (in
October, 1630) found to be impracticable. The
right of choosing the governor and making the laws
was then left to the Board of Assistants ; and in
May, 1631, it was further decided that the assist
ants need not be chosen afresh every year, but
might keep their seats during good behaviour or

106 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
until ousted by special vote of the freemen. If the
settlers of Massachusetts had been ancient Greeks
or Romans, this would have been about as far as
they could go in the matter ; the choice would have
been between a primary assembly and an assembly
of notables. It is curious to see Englishmen pass
ing from one of these alternatives to the other.
But it was only for a moment. The protest of the
Watertown men came in time to check these pro
ceedings, which began to have a decidedly oligar
chical look. To settle the immediate question of
the tax, two deputies were sent from each settle
ment to advise with the Board of Assistants ; while
the power of choosing each year the governor and
assistants was resumed by the freemen. Two years
later, in order to reserve to the freemen the power
of making laws without interfering too much with
the ordinary business of life, the colonists fell
back upon the old English rural plan of electing
deputies or representatives to a general court.
At first the deputies sat in the same chamber
with the assistants, but at length in 1644 they were
formed into a second chamber with increased pow
ers, and the way in which this important constitu
tional change came about is worth remembering,
as an illustration of the smallness of the state
which so soon was to play a great part in history.
As Winthrop puts it, "there fell out a great busi-
storyofthe ness upon a very small occasion." To
stray pig. a certain Captain Keayne, of Boston,
a rich man deemed to be hard and overbearing
toward the poor, there was brought a stray pig,
whereof he gave due public notice through the town

THE PLANTING OF NEW ENGLAND. 107
crier, yet none came to claim it till after he had
killed a pig of his own which he kept in the same
stye with the stray. A year having passed by, a
poor woman named Sherman came to see the stray
and to decide if it were one that she had lost. Not
recognizing it as hers, she forthwith laid claim to
the slaughtered pig. The case was brought before
the elders of the church of Boston, who decided
that the woman was mistaken. Mrs. Sherman
then accused the captain of theft, and brought the
case before a jury, which exonerated the defendant
with £3 costs. The captain then sued Mrs. Sher
man for defamation of character and got a verdict
for <£40 damages, a round sum indeed to assess
upon the poor woman. But long before this it had
appeared that she had many partisans and support
ers ; it had become a political question, in which
the popular protest against aristocracy was impli
cated. Not yet browbeaten, the warlike Mrs.
Sherman appealed to the General Court. The
length of the hearing shows the importance which
was attached to the case. After seven days of dis
cussion the vote was taken. Seven assistants and
eight deputies approved the former decisions, two
assistants and fifteen deputies condemned them,
while seven deputies refrained from voting. In
other words, Captain Keayne had a decided major
ity among the more aristocratic assistants, while
Mrs. Sherman seemed to prevail with the more
democratic deputies. Regarding the result as the
vote of a single body, the woman had a plurality
of two ; regarding it as the vote of a double body,
her cause had prevailed in the lower house, but

108 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
was lost by the veto of the upper. No decision
was reached at the time, but after a year of discus
sion the legislature was permanently separated into
two houses, each with a veto power upon the other ;
and this was felt to be a victory for the assistants.
As for the ecclesiastical polity of the new colony,
it had begun to take shape immediately upon the
arrival of Endicott's party at Salem. The clergy
men, Samuel Skelton and Francis Higginson, con
secrated each other, and a church covenant and
confession of faith were drawn up by Higginson.
Thirty persons joining in this covenant constituted
the first church in the colony ; and several brethren
appointed by this church proceeded formally to or
dain the two ministers by the laying on of hands.
In such simple wise was the first Congregational
church in Massachusetts founded. The simple
fact of removal from England converted all the
Puritan emigrants into Separatists, as Robinson
had already predicted. Some, however, were not
yet quite prepared for so radical a measure. These
proceedings gave umbrage to two of the Salem
party, who attempted forthwith to set up a separate
church in conformity with episcopal models. A
very important question was thus raised at once,
but it was not allowed to disturb the peace of the
colony. Endicott was a man of summary methods.
He immediately sent the two malcontents back to
The triumph England ; and thus the colonial church
eparatism. no^. Q^^ seceded from the national es
tablishment, but the principle was virtually laid
down that the Episcopal form of worship would
not be tolerated in the colony. For the present

THE PLANTING OF NEW ENGLAND. 109
such a step was to be regarded as a measure of
self-defence on the part of the colonists. Episco
pacy to them meant actual and practical tyranny
— the very thing they had crossed the ocean ex
pressly to get away from — and it was hardly to be
supposed that they would encourage the growth of
it in their new home. One or two surpliced priests,
conducting worship in accordance with the Book of
Common Prayer, might in themselves be excellent
members of society ; but behind the surpliced
priest the colonist saw the intolerance of Laud and
the despotism of the Court of High Commission.
In 1631 a still more searching measure of self-pro
tection was adopted. It was decided that " no
man shall be admitted to the freedom of this body
politic, but such as are members of some of the
churches within the limits of the same." Into the
merits of this measure as illustrating the theocratic
ideal of society which the Puritans sought to real
ize in New England, we shall inquire hereafter.
At present we must note that, as a measure of self-
protection, this decree was intended to keep out of
the new community all emissaries of Strafford and
Laud, as well as such persons as Morton and Gar
diner and other agents of Sir Ferdinando Gorges.
By the year 1634 the scheme of the Massachu
setts Company had so far prospered that nearly
4000 Englishmen had come over, and some twenty
villages on or near the shores of the bay had
been founded. The building of permanent houses,
roads, fences, and bridges had begun to go on quite
briskly ; farms were beginning to yield a return for
the labour of the husbandman ; lumber, furs, and

110 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND-
salted fish were beginning to be sent to England
in exchange for manufactured articles ; 4000
goats and 1500 head of cattle grazed in the pas
tures, and swine innumerable rooted in the clear
ings and helped to make ready the land for the
ploughman. Political meetings were held, justice
was administered by magistrates after old English
precedents, and church services were performed by
a score of clergymen, nearly all graduates of Cam
bridge, though one or two had their degrees from
Oxford, and nearly all of whom had held livings in
the Church of England. The most distinguished
of these clergymen, John Cotton, in his younger
days a Fellow and Tutor of Emmanuel College,
had for more than twenty years been rector of St.
Botolph's, when he left the most magnificent parish
church in England to hold service in the first rude
meeting-house of the new Boston. From Emman
uel College came also Thomas Hooker and John
Harvard. Besides these clergymen, so many of the
leading persons concerned in the emigration were
university men that it was not long before a uni
versity began to seem indispensable to the colony.
In 1636 the General Court appropriated £400
toward the establishment of a college at Newtown.
In 1638 John Harvard, dying childless,
Harvard Coi- bequeathed his library and the half of
his estate to the new college, which the
Court forthwith ordered to be called by his name ;
while in honour of the mother university the name
of the town was changed to Cambridge.
It has been said that the assembly which decreed
the establishment of Harvard College was "the

THE PLANTING OF NEW ENGLAND. Ill
first body in which the people, by their representa
tives, ever gave their own money to found a place
of education." J The act was a memorable one if
we have regard to all the circumstances of the year
in which it was done. On every side danger was
in the air. Threatened at once with an Indian war,
with the enmity of the home govern-
. . ,. . Threefold
ment, and with grave dissensions among danger in the
' b . ° year 1636.
themselves, the year 1636 was a trying
one indeed for the little community of Puritans,
and their founding a college by public taxation
just at this time is a striking illustration of their
unalterable purpose to realize, in this new home,
their ideal of an educated Christian society.
That the government of Charles I. should view
with a hostile eye the growth of a Puritan state in
New England is not at all surprising. The only
fit ground for wonder would seem to be lp Fl.om the
that Charles should have been willing ptfs^E
at the outset to grant a charter to the ony cutis'001'
able and influential Puritans who orga- 'ensionYat18'
nized the Company of Massachusetts home'
Bay. Probably, however, the king thought at first
that it would relieve him at home if a few dozen of
the Puritan leaders could be allowed to concentrate
their minds upon a project of colonization in Amer
ica. It might divert attention for a moment from
his own despotic schemes. Very likely the scheme
would prove a failure and the Massachusetts colony
incur a fate like that of Roanoke Island ; and at
all events the wealth of the Puritans might better
be sunk in a remote and perilous enterprise than
1 Quincy, History of Harvard University, ii. 654.

112 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND,
employed at home in organizing resistance to the
crown. Such, very likely, may have been the
king's motive in granting the Massachusetts char
ter two days after turning his Parliament out of
doors. But the events of the last half-dozen years
had come to present the case in a new light. The
young colony was not languishing. It was full of
sturdy life ; it had wrought mischief to the schemes
of Gorges ; and what was more, it had begun to
take unheard-of liberties with things ecclesiastical
and political. Its example was getting to be a
dangerous one. It was evidently worth while to
put a strong curb upon Massachusetts. Any prom
ise made to his subjects Charles regarded as a
promise made under duress which he was quite jus
tified in breaking whenever it suited his purpose
to do so. Enemies of Massachusetts were busy in
England. Schismatics from Salem and revellers
from Merrymount were ready with their tales of
woe, and now Gorges and Mason were vigorously
pressing their territorial claims. They bargained
with the king. In February, 1635, the moribund
Council for New England surrendered its charter
and all its corporate rights in America, on condi
tion that the king should disregard all the various
grants by which these rights had from time to time
been alienated, and should divide up the territory of
New England in severalty among the members of
the Council. In pursuance of this scheme Gorges
and Mason, together with half a dozen noblemen,
were allowed to parcel out New England among
themselves as they should see fit. In this way the
influence of the Marquis of Hamilton, with the Earls

THE PLANTING OF NEW ENGLAND. 113
of Arundel, Surrey, Carlisle, and Stirling, might
be actively enlisted against the Massachusetts Com
pany. A writ of quo warranto was brought against
it ; and it was proposed to send Sir Ferdinando to
govern New England with viceregal powers like
those afterward exercised by Andros.
For a moment the danger seemed alarming ; but,
as Winthrop says, " the Lord frustrated their de
sign." It was noted as a special providence that
the ship in which Gorges was to sail was hardly off
the stocks when it fell to pieces. Then the most
indefatigable enemy of the colony, John Mason,
suddenly died. The king issued his famous writ
of ship-money and set all England by the ears ;
and, to crown all, the attempt to read the Episco
pal liturgy at St. Giles's church in Edinburgh
led straight to the Solemn League and Covenant.
Amid the first mutterings of the Great Rebellion the
proceedings against Massachusetts were dropped,
and the unheeded colony went on thriving in its
independent course. Possibly too some locks at
Whitehall may have been turned with golden
keys,1 for the company was rich, and the king was
ever open to such arguments. But when the news
of his evil designs had first reached Boston the peo
ple of the infant colony showed no readiness to
yield to intimidation. In their measures there was
a decided smack of what was to be realized a hun
dred and forty years later. Orders were imme
diately issued for fortifying Castle Island in the
harbour and the heights at Charlestown and Dor
chester. Militia companies were put in training,
1 C. F. Adams, Sir Christopher Gardiner, Knight, p. 31.

114 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
and a beacon was set up on the highest hill in Bos
ton, to give prompt notice to all the surrounding
country of any approaching enemy.
While the ill will of the home government thus
kept the colonists in a state of alarm, there were
causes of strife at work at their very doors, of
which they were fain to rid themselves as soon as
2 From reii- possible. Among all the Puritans who
gious dis„sen" came to New England there is no more
sions ; Koger o
Williams. interesting figure than the learned, quick
witted pugnacious Welshman, Roger Williams.
He was over-fond of logical subtleties and delighted
in controversy. There was scarcely any subject
about which he did not wrangle, from the sinful
ness of persecution to the propriety of women
wearing veils in church. Yet, with all this love of
controversy, there has perhaps never lived a more
gentle and kindly soul. Within five years from
the settlement of Massachusetts this young preacher
had announced the true principles of religious lib
erty with a clearness of insight quite remarkable
in that age. Roger Williams had been aided in
securing an education by the great lawyer Sir
Edward Coke, and had lately taken his degree at
Pembroke College, Cambridge ; but the boldness
with which he declared his opinions had aroused
the hostility of Laud, and in 1631 he had come
over to Plymouth, whence he removed two years
later to Salem, and became pastor of the church
there. The views of Williams, if logically carried
out, involved the entire separation of church from
state, the equal protection of all forms of religious
faith, the repeal of all laws compelling attendance

THE PLANTING OF NEW ENGLAND. 115
on public worship, the abolition of tithes and of
all forced contributions to the support of religion.
Such views are to-day quite generally adopted by
the more civilized portions of the Protestant world ;
but it is needless to say that they were not the views
of the seventeenth century, in Massachusetts or
elsewhere. For declaring such opinions as these
on the continent of Europe, anywhere except in
Holland, a man like Williams would in that age
have run great risk of being burned at the stake.
In England, under the energetic misgovernment of
Laud, he would very likely have had to stand in
the pillory with his ears cropped, or perhaps, like
Bunyan and Baxter, would have been sent to jail.
In Massachusetts such views were naturally enough
regarded as anarchical, but in Williams's case they
were further complicated by grave political impru
dence. He wrote a pamphlet in which he denied I
the right of the colonists to the lands which they
held in New England under the king's grant.
He held that the soil belonged to the Indians,
that the settlers could only obtain a valid title to
it by purchase from them, and that the accept
ance of a patent from a mere intruder, like the
king, was a sin requiring public repentance. This
doctrine was sure to be regarded in England as
an attack upon the king's supremacy over Mas
sachusetts, and at the same time an incident oc
curred in Salem which made it all the more un
fortunate. The royal colours under which the
little companies of militia marched were emblaz
oned with the red cross of St. George. The un
compromising Endicott loathed this emblem as

116 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
tainted with Popery, and one day he publicly de
faced the flag of the Salem company by cutting
out the cross. The enemies of Massachusetts mis
interpreted this act as a defiance aimed at the
royal authority, and they attributed it to the teach
ings of Williams. In view of the king's unfriend
liness these were dangerous proceedings. Endicott
was summoned before the General Court at Boston,
where he was publicly reprimanded and declared
incapable of holding office for a year. A few
months afterward, in January, 1636, Williams was
ordered by the General Court to come to Boston
and embark in a ship that was about to set sail for
England. But he escaped into the forest, and
made his way through the snow to the wigwam of
Massasoit. He was a rare linguist, and had learned
to talk fluently in the language of the Indians, and
now he passed the winter in trying to instill into
their ferocious hearts something of the gentleness
of Christianity. In the spring he was privately
notified by Winthrop that if he were to steer his
course to Narragansett bay he would be secure
from molestation ; and such was the beginning of
the settlement of Providence.
Shortly before the departure of Williams, there
came to Boston one of the greatest Puritan states
men of that heroic age, the younger Henry Vane.
It is pleasant to remember that the man
Henry Vane . -. - _
and Anne who did so much to overthrow the tyr-
Hutchinson. p 0 _- ..
anny of btrafrord, who brought the mili
tary strength of Scotland to the aid of the hard-
pressed Parliament, who administered the navy
with which Blake won his astonishing victories,

THE PLANTING OF NEW ENGLAND. 117
who dared even withstand Cromwell at the height
of his power when his measures became too violent,
— it is pleasant to remember that this admirable
man was once the chief magistrate of an American
commonwealth. It is pleasant for a Harvard man
to remember that as such he presided over the as
sembly that founded our first university. Thorough
republican and enthusiastic lover of liberty, he was
spiritually akin to Jefferson and to Samuel Adams.
Like Williams he was a friend to toleration, and
like Williams he found Massachusetts an uncom
fortable home. In 1636 he was only twenty-four
years of age, " young in years," and perhaps not
yet " in sage counsel old." He was chosen gov
ernor for that year, and his administration was
stormy. Among those persons who had followed
Mr. Cotton from Lincolnshire was Mrs. Anne
Hutchinson, a very bright and capable lady, if per
haps somewhat impulsive and indiscreet. She had
brought over with her, says Winthrop, " two dan
gerous errors: first, that the person of the Holy
Ghost dwells in a justified person ; second, that no
sanctification can help to evidence to us our jus
tification." Into the merits of such abstruse doc
trines it is not necessary for the historian to enter.
One can hardly repress a smile as one reflects how
early in the history of Boston some of its character
istic social features were developed. It is curious
to read of lectures there in 1636, lectures by a lady,
and transcendentalist lectures withal ! Never did
lectures in Boston arouse greater excitement than
Mrs. Hutchinson's. Many of her hearers forsook
the teachings of the regular ministers, to follow her,

118 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
She was very effectively supported by her brother-
in-law, Mr. Wheelwright, an eloquent preacher,
and for a while she seemed to be carrying every
thing before her. She won her old minister Mr.
Cotton, she won the stout soldier Captain Under
bill, she won Governor Vane himself ; while she
incurred the deadly hatred of such men as Dudley
and Cotton's associate John Wilson. The church
at Boston was divided into two hostile camps.
The sensible Winthrop marvelled at hearing men
distinguished " by being under a covenant of grace
or a covenant of works, as in other countries be
tween Protestants and Papists," and he ventured
to doubt whether any man could really tell what
the difference was. The theological strife went on
until it threatened to breed civil disaffection among
the followers of Mrs. Hutchinson. A peculiar bit
terness was given to the affair, from the fact that
she professed to be endowed with the spirit of
prophecy and taught her partisans that it was their
duty to follow the biddings of a supernatural light ;
and there was nothing which the orthodox Puritan
so steadfastly abhorred as the anarchical pretence
of living by the aid of a supernatural light. In a
strong and complex society the teachings of Mrs.
Hutchinson would have awakened but a languid
speculative interest, or perhaps would have passed
by unheeded. In the simple society of Massachu
setts in 1636, physically weak and as yet struggling
for very existence, the practical effect of such teach
ings may well have been deemed politically danger
ous. When things came to such a pass that the
forces of the colony were mustered for an Indian

THE PLANTING OF NEW ENGLAND. 119
campaign and the men of Boston were ready to
shirk the service because they suspected their
chaplain to be "under a covenant of works," it
was naturally thought to be high time to put Mrs.
Hutchinson down. In the spring of 1637 Win
throp was elected governor, and in August Vane re
turned to England. His father had at that moment
more influence with the king than any other person
except Strafford, and the young man had indis
creetly hinted at an appeal to the home government
for the protection of the Antinomians, as Mrs.
Hutchinson's followers were called. But an appeal
from America to England was something which
Massachusetts would no more tolerate in the days
of Winthrop than in the days of Hancock and
Adams. Soon after Vane's departure, Mrs. Hutch
inson and her friends were ordered to leave the
colony. It was doubtless an odious act of persecu
tion, yet of all such acts which stain the history of
Massachusetts in the seventeenth century, it is just
the one for which the plea of political necessity may
really be to some extent accepted.
We now begin to see how the spreading of the
New England colonization, and the founding of
distinct communities, was hastened by these differ
ences of opinion on theological questions or on ques
tions concerning the relations between church and
state. Of Mrs. Hutchinson's friends and adher
ents, some went northward, and founded the towns
of Exeter and Hampton. Some time before Ports
mouth and Dover had been settled by followers of
Mason and Gorges. In 1641 these towns were
added to the domain of Massachusetts, and so the

120 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
matter stood until 1679, when we shall see Charles
II. marking them off as a separate province, under
a royal government. Such were the beginnings of
New Hampshire. Mrs. Hutchinson herself, how
ever, with the rest of her adherents, bought the
island of Aquedneck from the Indians, and settle
ments were made at Portsmouth and Newport.
After a quarter of a century of turbulence, these
settlements coalesced with Williams's colony at
Providence, and thus was formed the state of Rhode
Island. After her husband's death in 1642, Mrs.
Hutchinson left Aquedneck and settled upon some
land to the west of Stamford and supposed to be
within the territory of the New Netherlands. There
in the following year she was cruelly murdered
by Indians, together with nearly all her children
and servants, sixteen victims in all. One of her
descendants was the illustrious Thomas Hutchinson,
the first great American historian, and last royal
governor of Massachusetts.
To the dangers arising from the ill-will of the
crown, and from these theological quarrels, there
was added the danger of a general attack by the
savages. Down to this time, since the landing of
the Pilgrims at Plymouth, the settlers of New Eng
land had been in no way molested by the natives.
Massasoit's treaty with the Pilgrims was scrupu
lously observed on both sides, and kept the Wam
panoags quiet for fifty-four years. The somewhat
smaller tribe which took its name from the Massa-
wachusett, or Great Hill, of Milton, kept on
friendly terms with the settlers about Boston, be
cause these red men coveted the powerful aid of the

THE PLANTING OF NEW ENGLAND. 121
white strangers in case of war with their hereditary
foes the Tarratines, who dwelt in the Piscataqua
country. It was only when the English began to
leave these coast regions and press into
the interior that trouble arose. The L^aZi'the
western shores of Narragansett bay were pScy?"
possessed by the numerous and warlike
tribe of that name, which held in partial subjection
the Nyantics near Point Judith. To the west of
these, and about the Thames river, dwelt the still
more formidable Pequots, a tribe which for bravery
and ferocity asserted a preeminence in New Eng
land not unlike that which the Iroquois league of
the Mohawk valley was fast winning over all North
America east of the Mississippi. North of the
Pequots, the squalid villages of the Nipmucks were
scattered over the beautiful highlands that stretch
in long ridges from Quinsigamond to Nichewaug,
and beyond toward blue Monadnock. Westward, in
the lower Connecticut valley, lived the Mohegans, a
small but valiant tribe, now for some time held trib
utary to their Pequot cousins, and very restive under
the yoke. The thickly wooded mountain ranges be
tween the Connecticut and the Hudson had few
human inhabitants. These hundred miles of crag
and forest were a bulwark none too wide or strong
against the incursions of the terrible Mohawks,
whose name sent a shiver of fear throughout sav
age New England, and whose forbearance the Nip-
mucks and Mohegans were fain to ensure by a
yearly payment of blackmail. Each summer there
came two Mohawk elders, secure in the dread that
Iroquois prowess had everywhere inspired ; and up

122 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
and down the Connecticut valley they seized the
tribute of weapons and wampum, and proclaimed
the last harsh edict issued from the savage council
at Onondaga. The scowls that greeted their un
welcome visits were doubtless nowhere fiercer than
among the Mohegans, thus ground down between
Mohawk and Pequot as between the upper and the
nether millstone.
Among the various points in which civilized man
surpasses the savage none is more conspicuous than
the military brute force which in the highest civili
zation is always latent though comparatively seldom
exerted. The sudden intrusion of English warfare
into the Indian world of the seventeenth century
may well have seemed to the red men a supernat
ural visitation, like the hurricane or the earthquake.
The uncompromising vigour with which the found
ers of Massachusetts carried on their work was
viewed in some quarters with a dissatisfaction
which soon thrust the English migration into the
very heart of the Indian country.
The first movement, however, was directed
against the encroachments of the New Netherlands.
In October, 1634, some men of Plymouth, led by
William Holmes, sailed up the Connecticut river,
and, after bandying threats with a party
ments into of Dutch who had built a rude fort on
the site of Hartford, passed on and for
tified themselves on the site of Windsor. Next
year Governor Van Twiller sent a company of sev
enty men to drive away these intruders, but after
reconnoitring the situation the Dutchmen thought
it best not to make an attack. Their little strong-

THE PLANTING OF NEW ENGLAND. 123
hold at Hartford remained unmolested by the Eng
lish, and, in order to secure the communication be
tween this advanced outpost and New Amsterdam,
Van Twiller decided to build another fort at the
mouth of the river, but this time the English were
beforehand. Rumours of Dutch designs may have
reached the ears of Lord Say and Sele and Lord
Brooke — " fanatic Brooke," as Scott calls him in
" Marmion " — who had obtained from the Council
for New England a grant of territory on the shores
of the Sound. These noblemen chose as their
agent the younger John Winthrop, son of the
Massachusetts governor, and this new-comer ar
rived upon the scene just in time to drive away
Van Twiller's vessel and build an English fort
which in honour of his two patrons he called" Say-
Brooke." Had it not been for seeds of discontent already
sown in Massachusetts, the English hold upon the
Connecticut valley might perhaps have been for a
few years confined to these two military outposts at
Windsor and Saybrook. But there were people in
Massachusetts who did not look with favour upon
the aristocratic and theocratic features „. „ ..
Disaffection in
in its polity. The provision that none Massachu-
but church-members should vote or hold
office was by no means unanimously approved.
We see it in the course of another generation put
ting altogether too much temporal power into the
hands of the clergy, and we can trace the growth
of the opposition to it until in the reign of Charles II.
it becomes a dangerous source of weakness to Mas
sachusetts. At the outset the opposition seems to

124 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
have been strongest in Dorchester, Newtown, and
Watertown. When the Board of Assistants under
took to secure for themselves permanency of tenure,
together with the power of choosing the governor
and making the laws, these three towns sent depu
ties to Boston to inspect the charter and see if it
authorized any such stretch of power. They were
foremost in insisting that representatives chosen
by the towns must have a share in the general gov
ernment. Men who held such opinions were nat
urally unwilling to increase the political weight of
the clergy, who, during these early disputes and
indeed until the downfall of the charter, were in
clined to take aristocratic views and to sympathize
with the Board of Assistants. Cotton declared
that democracy was no fit government either for
church or for commonwealth, and the majority of
the ministers agreed with him. Chief among those
who did not was the learned and eloquent Thomas
Hooker, pastor of the church at Newtown. When
Winthrop, in a letter to Hooker, defended the re
striction of the suffrage on the ground that " the
best part is always the least, and of that best part
the wiser part is always the lesser ; " Hooker replied
that " in matters which concern the common good,
a general council, chosen by all, to transact busi
nesses which concern all, I conceive most suitable
to rule and most safe for relief of the whole." It
is interesting to meet, on the very threshold of
American history, with such a lucid statement of
the strongly contrasted views which a hundred and
fifty years later were to be represented on a national
scale by Hamilton and Jefferson. There were

THE PLANTING OF NEW ENGLAND. 125
many in Newtown who took Hooker's view of the
matter ; and there, as also in Watertown and Dor
chester, which in 1633 took the initiative in framing
town governments with selectmen, a strong disposi
tion was shown to evade the restrictions upon the
suffrage. While such things were talked about in the sum
mer of 1633 the adventurous John Oldham was
making his way through the forest and over the
mountains into the Connecticut valley, and when
he returned to the coast his glowing accounts set
some people to thinking. Two years afterward a
few pioneers from Dorchester pushed through the
wilderness as far as the Plymouth men's fort at
Windsor, while a party from Watertown Connecticut
went farther and came to a halt upon Ploneers-
the site of Wethersfield. A larger party, bringing
cattle and such goods as they could carry, set out
in the autumn and succeeded in reaching Windsor.
Their winter supplies were sent around by water to
meet them, but early in November the ships had
barely passed the Saybrook fort when they found
the river blocked with ice and were obliged to re
turn to Boston. The sufferings of the pioneers,
thus cut off from the world, were dreadful. Their
cattle perished, and they were reduced to a diet of
acorns and ground-nuts. Some seventy of them,
walking on the frozen river to Saybrook, were so
fortunate as to find a crazy little sloop jammed in
the ice. They succeeded in cutting her adrift,
and steered themselves back to Boston. Others
surmounted greater obstacles in struggling back
through the snow over the region which the Pull-

126 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
man car now traverses, regardless of seasons, in
three hours. A few grim heroes, the nameless
founders of a noble commonwealth, stayed on the
spot and defied starvation. In the next June,
1636, the Newtown congregation, a hundred or
more in number, led by their sturdy pastor, and
bringing with them 160 head of cattle, made the
pilgrimage to the Connecticut valley. Women and
children took part in this pleasant summer journey ;
Mrs. Hooker, the pastor's wife, being too ill to walk,
was carried on a litter. Thus, in the memorable
year in which our great university was born, did
Cambridge become, in the true Greek sense of a
much-abused word, the metropolis or " mother
town " of Hartford. The migration at once became
strong in numbers. During the past twelvemonth
a score of ships had brought from England to Mas
sachusetts more than 3000 souls, and so great an
accession made further movement easy. Hooker's
pilgrims were soon followed by the Dorchester and
Watertown congregations, and by the next May
800 people were living in Windsor, Hartford, and
Wethersfield. As we read of these movements,
not of individuals, but of organic communities,
united in allegiance to a church and its pastor, and
fervid with the instinct of self-government, we seem
to see Greek history renewed, but with centuries of
added political training. For one year a board of
commissioners from Massachusetts governed the
new towns, but at the end of that time the towns
chose representatives and held a General Court at
Hartford, and thus the separate existence of Con-
necticut was begun. As for Springfield, which

THE PLANTING OF NEW ENGLAND. 127
was settled about the same time by a party from
Roxbury, it remained for some years doubtful to
which state it belonged. At the opening session
of the General Court, May 31, 1638, Mr. Hooker
preached a sermon of wonderful power, in which
he maintained that " the foundation of authority is
laid in the free consent of the people," " that the
choice of public magistrates belongs unto the people
by God's own allowance," and that " they who have
power to appoint officers and magistrates have the
right also to set the bounds and limitations of the
power and place unto which they call them." On
the 14th of January, 1639, all the freemen of the
three towns assembled at Hartford and adopted a
written constitution in which the hand of the
great preacher is clearly discernible. It
° r i i ¦ i The first writ-
is worthy of note that this document tenconstitu-
. ~ tion.
contains none of the conventional refer
ences to a " dread sovereign " or a " gracious king,"
nor the slightest allusion to the British or any
other government outside of Connecticut itself,
nor does it prescribe any condition of church-mem
bership for the right of suffrage. It was the firsts
written constitution known to history, that created
a government,1 and it marked the beginnings of
American democracy, of which Thomas Hooker
deserves more than any other man to be called the
father. The government of the United States to- -
day is in lineal descent more nearly related to that
1 The compact drawn np in the Mayflower's cabin was not, in the
strict sense a constitution, which is a document defining and limit
ing the functions of government. Magna Charta partook of the
nature of a written constitution, as far as it went, but it did not
create a government.

128 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
of Connecticut than to that of any of the other thir
teen colonies. The most noteworthy feature of the
Connecticut republic was that it was a federation
of independent towns, and that all attributes of sov
ereignty not expressly granted to the General Court
remained, as of original right, in the towns. More
over, while the governor and council were chosen
by a majority vote of the whole people, and by a
suffrage that was almost universal, there was for
each township an equality of representation in the
assembly.1 This little federal republic was allowed
to develop peacefully and normally ; its constitu
tion was not violently wrenched out of shape like
that of Massachusetts at the end of the seventeenth
century. It silently grew till it became the strong
est political structure on the continent, as was illus
trated in the remarkable military energy and the
unshaken financial credit of Connecticut during the
Revolutionary War ; and in the chief crisis of the
Federal Convention of 1787 Connecticut, with her
compromise which secured equal state representa
tion in one branch of the national government and
popular representation in the other, played the
controlling part.
Before the little federation of towns had framed
its government, it had its Indian question to dis
pose of. Three years before the migration led by
Hooker, a crew of eight traders, while making their
way up the river to the Dutch station on the site of
Hartford, had been murdered by a party of Indians
subject to Sassacus, chief sachem of the Pequots.
Negotiations concerning this outrage had gone on
1 See Johnston's Connecticut, p. 321, a very brilliant book.

THE PLANTING OF NEW ENGLAND. 129
between Sassacus and the government at Boston,
and the Pequots had promised to deliver up the
murderers, but had neglected to do so. In the
summer of 1636 some Indians on Block origin of the
Island subject to the Narragansetts mur- Pequot Wttr-
dered the pioneer John Oldham, who was sailing
on the Sound, and captured his little vessel. At
this, says Underhill, " God stirred up the hearts "
of Governor Vane and the rest of the magistrates.
They were determined to make an end of the In
dian question and show the savages that such things
would not be endured. First an embassy was sent
to Canonicus and his nephew Miantonomo, chief
sachems of the Narragansetts, who hastened to
disclaim all responsibility for the murder, and to
throw the blame entirely upon the Indians of the
island. Vane then sent out three vessels under
command of Endicott, who ravaged Block Island,
burning wigwams, sinking canoes, and slaying dogs,
for the men had taken to the woods. Endicott then
crossed to the mainland to reckon with the Pequots.
He demanded the surrender of the murderers, with
a thousand fathoms of wampum for damages ; and
not getting a satisfactory answer, he attacked the
Indians, killed a score of them, seized their ripe
corn, and burned and spoiled what he could. But
such reprisals served only to enrage the red men.
Lyon Gardiner, commander of the Saybrook fort,
complained to Endicott : " You come hither to
raise these wasps about my ears; then you will
take wing and flee away." The immediate effect
was to incite Sassacus to do his utmost to compass
the ruin of the English. The superstitious awe

130 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
with which the white men were at first regarded
had been somewhat lessened by familiar contact
with them, as in iEsop's fable of the fox and the
lion. The resources of Indian diplomacy were ex
hausted in the attempt to unite the Narragansett
warriors with the Pequots in a grand crusade
against the white men. Such a combination could
hardly have been as formidable as that which was
effected forty years afterward in King Philip's
war ; for the savages had not as yet become accus
tomed to fire-arms, and the English settlements did
not present so many points exposed to attack ; but
there is no doubt that it might have wrought fear
ful havoc. We can, at any rate, find no difficulty
in comprehending the manifold perplexity of the
Massachusetts men at this time, threatened as they
were at once by an Indian crusade, by the machi
nations of a faithless king, and by a bitter theolog
ical quarrel at home, in this eventful year when
they laid aside part of their incomes to establish
Harvard College.
The schemes of Sassacus were unsuccessful.
The hereditary enmity of the Narragansetts to
ward their Pequot rivals was too strong to be
lightly overcome. Roger Williams, taking ad-
Sassacusis vantage of this feeling, so worked upon
Eogerwii- tne minds of the Narragansett chiefs
Uams- that in the autumn of 1636 they sent
an embassy to Boston and made a treaty of alli
ance with the English. The Pequots were thus
left to fight out their own quarrel ; and had they
still been separated from the English by the dis-
tance between Boston and the Thames river, the

THE PLANTING OF NEW ENGLAND. 131
feud might very likely have smouldered until the
drift of events had given a different shape to it.
But as the English had in this very year thrown
out their advanced posts into the lower Connecticut
valley, there was clearly no issue from the situa
tion save in deadly war. All through the winter
of 1636-37 the Connecticut towns were kept in a
state of alarm by the savages. Men going to
their work were killed and horribly mangled. A
Wethersfield man was kidnapped and roasted
alive. Emboldened by the success of this feat,
the Pequots attacked Wethersfield, massacred ten
people, and carried away two girls.
* r ' • , i The Pe1u°ts
Wrought up to desperation by these take the war-
atrocities, the Connecticut men appealed
to Massachusetts and Plymouth for aid, and put
into service ninety of their own number, under
command of John Mason, an excellent and sturdy
officer who had won golden opinions from Sir
Thomas Fairfax, under whom he had served in
the Netherlands. It took time to get men from
Boston, and all that Massachusetts contributed to
the enterprise at its beginning was that eccentric
daredevil John Underhill, with a force of twenty
men. Seventy friendly Mohegans, under their
chief Uncas, eager to see vengeance wrought upon
their Pequot oppressors, accompanied the expedi
tion. From the fort at Saybrook this little com
pany set sail on the twentieth of May, 1637, and
landed in brilliant moonlight near Point Judith,
where they were reinforced by four hundred Nar
ragansetts and Nyantics. From this point they
turned westward toward the stronghold of the

132 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
Pequots, near the place where the town of Ston-
ington now stands. As they approached the
dreaded spot the courage of the Indian allies
gave out, and they slunk behind, declaring that
Sassacus was a god whom it was useless to think
of attacking. The force with which Mason and
Underhill advanced to the fray consisted of just
seventy-seven Englishmen. Their task was to as
sault and carry an entrenched fort or walled vil
lage containing seven hundred Pequots. The fort
was a circle of two or three acres in area, girdled
by a palisade of sturdy sapling-trunks, set firm
and deep into the ground, the narrow interstices
between them serving as loopholes wherefrom to
reconnoitre any one passing by and to shoot at
assailants. At opposite sides of this stronghold
were two openings barely large enough to let any
one go through. Within this enclosure were the
crowded wigwams. The attack was skilfully man
aged, and was a complete surprise. A little be
fore daybreak Mason, with sixteen men, occupied
one of the doors, while Underhill made sure of the
other. The Indians in panic sought first one out
let and then the other, and were ruthlessly shot
down, whichever way they turned. A few suc
ceeded in breaking loose, but these were caught
and tomahawked by the Indian allies, who, though
afraid to take the risks of the fight, were ready
enough to help slay the fugitives. The English
threw firebrands among the wigwams, and soon
And are ex- tne whole village was in a light blaze,
terminated. ^ mogt Qf ^ savageg suffered tne
horrible death which they were so fond of inflict-

THE PLANTING OF NEW ENGLAND. 133
ing upon their captives. Of the seven hundred
Pequots in the stronghold, but five got away with
their lives. All this bloody work had been done
in less than an hour, and of the English there had
been two killed and sixteen wounded. It was the
end of the Pequot nation. Of the remnant which
had not been included in this wholesale slaughter,
most were soon afterwards destroyed piecemeal in
a running fight which extended as far westward
as the site of Fairfield. Sassacus fled across the
Hudson river to the Mohawks, who slew him and
sent his scalp to Boston, as a peace-offering to the
English. The few survivors were divided between
the Mohegans and Narragansetts and adopted into
those tribes. Truly the work was done with
Cromwellian thoroughness. The tribe which had
lorded it so fiercely over the New England forests
was all at once wiped out of existence. So terrible
a vengeance the Indians had never heard of. If
the name of Pequot had hitherto been a name of
terror, so now did the Englishmen win the inher
itance of that deadly prestige. Not for eight-and-
thirty years after the destruction of the Pequots,
not until a generation of red men had grown up
that knew not Underhill and Mason, did the In
dian of New England dare again to lift his hand
against the white man.
Such scenes of wholesale slaughter are not pleas
ant reading in this milder age. But our forefathers
felt that the wars of Canaan afforded a sound pre
cedent for such cases ; and, indeed, if we remember
what the soldiers of Tilly and Wallenstein were
doing at this very time in Germany, we shall real-

134 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND
ize that the work of Mason and Underhill would
not have been felt by any one in that age to merit
censure or stand in need of excuses. As a matter
of practical policy the annihilation of the Pequots
can be condemned only by those who read history
so incorrectly as to suppose that savages, whose
business is to torture and slay, can always be dealt
with according to the methods in use between civil
ized peoples. A mighty nation, like the United
States, is in honour bound to treat the red man
with scrupulous justice and refrain from cruelty in
punishing his delinquencies. But if the founders
of Connecticut, in confronting a danger which
threatened their very existence, struck with savage
fierceness, we cannot blame them. The world is
so made that it is only in that way that the higher
races have been able to preserve themselves and
carry on their progressive work.
The overthrow of the Pequots was a cardinal
event in the planting of New England. It re
moved the chief obstacle to the colonization of the
Connecticut coast, and brought the inland settle
ments into such unimpeded communication with
those on tide-water as to prepare the way for the
formation of the New England confederacy. Its
first fruits were seen in the direction taken by the
next wave of migration, which ended the Puritan
exodus from England to America. About a month
after the storming of the palisaded village there
arrived in Boston a company of wealthy London
The colony of merchants, with their families. The
New Haven. mos^ prominent among them, Theophi
lus Eaton, was a member of the Company of Mas-

THE PLANTING OF NEW ENGLAND. 135
sachusetts Bay. Their pastor, John Davenport,
was an eloquent preacher and a man of power.
He was a graduate of Oxford, and in 1624 had
been chosen vicar of St. Stephen's parish, in Cole
man street, London. When he heard that Cot
ton and Hooker were about to sail for America,
he sought earnestly to turn them from what he
deemed the error of their ways, but instead he
became converted himself and soon incurred the
especial enmity of Laud, so that it became neces
sary for him to flee to Amsterdam. In 1636 he
returned to England, and in concert with Eaton
organized a scheme of emigration that included
men from Yorkshire, Hertfordshire, and Kent.
The leaders arrived in Boston in the midst of the
Antinomian disputes, and although Davenport won
admiration for his skill in battling with heresy, he
may perhaps have deemed it preferable to lead his
flock to some new spot in the wilderness where
such warfare might not be required. The mer
chants desired a fine harbour and good commercial
situation, and the reports of the men who returned
from hunting the Pequots told them of just such a
spot at Quinnipiack on Long Island Sound. Here
they could carry out their plan of putting into
practice a theocratic ideal even more rigid than
that which obtained in Massachusetts, and arrange
their civil as well as ecclesiastical affairs in accord
ance with rules to be obtained from a minute study
of the Scriptures.
In the spring of 1638 the town of New Haven
was accordingly founded. The next year a swarm
from this new town settled Milford, while another

136 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
party, freshly arrived from England, made the be
ginnings of Guilford. In 1640 Stamford was
added to the group, and in 1643 the four towns
were united into the republic of New Haven, to
which Southold, on Long Island, and Branford
were afterwards added. As being a confederation
of independent towns, New Haven resembled Con
necticut. In other respects the differences between
the two reflected the differences between Daven
port and Hooker ; the latter was what would now
be called more radical than Winthrop or Cotton,
the former was more conservative. In the New
Haven colony none but church-members could
vote, and this measure at the outset disfranchised
more than half the settlers in New Haven town,
nearly half in Guilford, and less than one fifth in
Milford. This result was practically less demo
cratic than in Massachusetts where it was some
time before the disfranchisement attained such
dimensions. The power of the clergy reached its
extreme point in New Haven, where each of the
towns was governed by seven ecclesiastical officers
known as " pillars of the church." These magis
trates served as judges, and trial by jury was dis
pensed with, because no authority could be found
for it in the laws of Moses. The legislation was
quaint enough, though the famous " Blue Laws "
. , of New Haven, which have been made
Legend of '
Law""1"10 *^e tneme 0I so many jests at the ex
pense of our forefathers, never really
existed. The story of the Blue Laws was first
published in 1781 by the Rev. Samuel Peters, a
Tory refugee in London, who took delight in hor-

THE PLANTING OF NEW ENGLAND. 137
rifying our British cousins with tales of wholesale
tarring and feathering done by the patriots of the
Revolution. In point of strict veracity Dr. Peters
reminds one of Baron Munchausen ; he declares
that the river at Bellows Falls flows so fast as to
float iron crowbars, and he gravely describes sun
dry animals who were evidently cousins to the
Jabberwok. The most famous passage of his pre
tended code is that which enacts that " no woman
shall kiss her child on the Sabbath," and that " no
one shall play on any instrument of music except
the drum, trumpet, or jewsharp."
When the Long Parliament met in 1640, the
Puritan exodus to New England came to an end.
During the twenty years which had
elapsed since the voyage of the May- Puritan exo-
flower, the population had grown to
26,000 souls. Of this number scarcely 500 had
arrived before 1629. It is a striking fact, since it
expresses a causal relation and not a mere coinci
dence, that the eleven years, 1629-1640, during
which Charles I. governed England without a
parliament, were the same eleven years that wit
nessed the planting of New England. For more
than a century after this there was no considerable
migration to this part of North America. Puritan
England now found employment for all its energies
and all its enthusiasm at home. The struggle with
the king and the efforts toward reorganization un
der Cromwell were to occupy it for another score
of years, and then, by the time of the Restoration
the youthful creative energy of Puritanism had
spent itself. The influence of this great movement

138 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
was indeed destined to grow wider and deeper with
the progress of civilization, but after 1660 its crea
tive work began to run in new channels and assume
different forms.
It is curious to reflect what might have been the
result, to America and to the world, had things in
what might England gone differently between 1620
have been. ^ -^qqq Ha(j ^ ^jj^ of jameg
and Charles been less formidable, the Puritan exo
dus might never have occurred, and the Virginian
type of society, varied perhaps by a strong Dutch
infusion, might have become supreme in America.
The western continent would have lost in richness
and variety of life, and it is not likely that Europe
would have made a corresponding gain, for the
moral effect of the challenge, the struggle, and the
overthrow of monarchy in England was a stimulus
sorely needed by neighbouring peoples. It is not
always by avoiding the evil, it is rather by grap
pling with it and conquering it that character is
strengthened and life enriched, and there is no
better example of this than the history of England
in the seventeenth century.
On the other hand, if the Stuart despotism had
triumphed in England, the Puritan exodus would
doubtless have been swelled to huge dimensions.
New England would have gained strength so
quickly that much less irritation than she actually
suffered between 1664 and 1689 would probably
have goaded her into rebellion. The war of inde
pendence might have been waged a century sooner
than it was. It is not easy to point to any especial
advantage that could have come to America from

THE PLANTING OF NEW ENGLAND. 139
this ; one is rather inclined to think of the pecul
iarly valuable political training of the eighteenth
century that would have been lost. Such surmises
are for the most part idle. But as concerns Eu
rope, it is plain to be seen, for reasons stated in my
first chapter, that the decisive victory of Charles I.
would have been a calamity of the first magnitude.
It would have been like the Greeks losing Mara
thon or the Saracens winning Tours, supposing the
worst consequences ever imagined in those hypo
thetical cases to have been realized. Or taking a
more contracted view, we can see how England,
robbed of her Puritan element, might still have
waxed in strength, as France has done in spite of
losing the Huguenots ; but she could not have
taken the proud position that she has come to oc
cupy as mother of nations. Her preeminence since
Cromwell's time has been chiefly due to her unri
valled power of planting self-supporting colonies,
and that power has had its roots in English self-
government. It is the vitality of the English Idea
that is making the language of Cromwell and
Washington dominant in the world.

CHAPTER IV.
THE NEW ENGLAND CONFEDERACY.
The Puritan exodus to New England, which
came to an end about 1640, was purely and ex
clusively English. There was nothing in it that
came from the continent of Europe, nothing that
was either Irish or Scotch, very little
was purely that was Welsh. As Palfrey says, the
population of 26,000 that had been
planted in New England by 1640 " thenceforward
continued to multiply on its own soil for a century
and a half, in remarkable seclusion from other
communities." During the whole of this period
New England received but few immigrants ; and
it was not until after the Revolutionary War that
its people had fairly started on their westward
march into the state of New York and beyond,
until now, after yet another century, we find some
of their descendants dwelling in a homelike Salem
and a Portland of charming beauty on the Pacific
coast. Three times between the meeting of the
Long Parliament and the meeting of the Conti
nental Congress did the New England colonies re
ceive a slight infusion of non-English blood. In
1652, after his victories at Dunbar and Worcester,
Cromwell sent 270 of his Scottish prisoners to
Boston, where the descendants of some of them

THE NEW ENGLAND CONFEDERACY. 141
still dwell. After the revocation of the Edict of
Nantes in 1685, 150 families of Huguenots came
to Massachusetts. And finally in 1719, 120 Pres
byterian families came over from the north of Ire
land, and settled at Londonderry in New Hamp
shire, and elsewhere. In view of these facts it may
be said that there is not a county in England of
which the population is more purely English than
the population of New England at the end of the
eighteenth century. From long and careful re
search, Mr. Savage, the highest authority on this
subject, concludes that more than 98 in 100 of the
New England people at that time could trace their
origin to England in the narrowest sense, exclud
ing even Wales. As already observed, every Eng
lish shire contributed something to the emigration,
but there was a marked preponderance of people
from the East Anglian counties.
The population of New England was nearly as
homogeneous in social condition as it was in blood.
The emigration was preeminent for its respecta
bility. Like the best part of the emigration to
Virginia, it consisted largely of country Eespectable
squires and yeomen. The men who fol- therem'jgra°f
lowed Winthrop were thrifty and pros- tlon'
perous in their old homes from which their devo
tion to an idea made them voluntary exiles. They
attached so much importance to regular industry
and decorous behaviour that for a long time the
needy and shiftless people who usually make
trouble in new colonies were not tolerated among
them. Hence the early history of New England
is remarkably free from those scenes of violence

142 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
and disorder which have so often made hideous
the first years of new communities. Of negro
slaves there were very few, and these were em
ployed wholly in domestic service ; there were not
enough of them to affect the industrial life of New
England or to be worth mentioning as a class.
Neither were there many of the wretched people,
kidnapped from the jails and slums of English
sea-ports, such as in those early days when negro
labour was scarce, were sent by ship-loads to Vir
ginia, to become the progenitors of the " white
trash." There were a few indented white servants,
usually of the class known as " redemptioners," or
immigrants who voluntarily bound themselves to
service for a stated time in order to defray the
cost of their voyage from Europe. At a later
time there were many of these "redemptioners"
in the middle colonies, but in New England they
were very few ; and as no stigma of servitude was
attached to manual labour, they were apt at the
end of their terms of service to become independ
ent farmers ; thus they ceased to be recognizable
as a distinct class of society. Nevertheless the
common statement that no traces of the " mean
white " are to be found in New England is per
haps somewhat too sweeping. Interspersed among
those respectable and tidy mountain villages, once
full of such vigorous life, one sometimes comes
upon little isolated groups of wretched hovels
whose local reputation is sufficiently indicated by
such terse epithets as " Hardscrabble " or "Hell-
huddle." Their denizens may in many instances
be the degenerate offspring of a sound New Eng-

THE NEW ENGLAND CONFEDERACY. 143
land stock, but they sometimes show strong points
of resemblance to that "white trash" which has
come to be a recognizable strain of the English
race ; and one cannot help suspecting that while
the New England colonies made every effort to
keep out such riff raff, it may nevertheless have
now and then crept in. However this may be, it
cannot be said that this element ever formed a
noticeable feature in the life of colonial New Eng
land. As regards their social derivation, the set
tlers of New England were homogeneous in char
acter to a remarkable degree, and they were drawn
from the sturdiest part of the English stock. In
all history there has been no other instance of
colonization so exclusively effected by picked and
chosen men. The colonists knew this, and were
proud of it, as well they might be. It was the
simple truth that was spoken by William Stough
ton when he said, in his election sermon of 1688 :
" God sifted a whole nation, that He might send
choice grain into the wilderness."
This matter comes to have more than a local in
terest, when we reflect that the 26,000 New Eng-
landers of 1640 have in two hundred and fifty years
increased to something like 15,000,000. From
these men have come at least one-fourth of the
present population of the United States. Strik
ing as this fact may seem, it is perhaps less strik
ing than the fact of the original migration when
duly considered. In these times, when great
steamers sail every day from European ports,
bringing immigrants to a country not less ad
vanced in material civilization than the country

144 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
which they leave, the daily arrival of a thousand
new citizens has come to be a commonplace event.
But in the seventeenth century the transfer of
more than twenty thousand well-to-do people
within twenty years from their comfortable homes
in England to the American wilderness was by no
means a commonplace event. It reminds one of
the migrations of ancient peoples, and in the
quaint thought of our forefathers it was aptly
likened to the exodus of Israel from the Egyptian
house of bondage.
In this migration a principle of selection was at
work which insured an extraordinary uniformity
of character and of purpose among the settlers.
To this uniformity of purpose, combined with com
plete homogeneity of race, is due the preponder
ance early acquired by New England in the history
of the American people. In view of this, it is
worth while to inquire what were the real aims of
the settlers of New England. What was the com
mon purpose which brought these men together in
their resolve to create for themselves new homes
in the wilderness?
This is a point concerning which there has been
a great deal of popular misapprehension, and there
has been no end of nonsense talked about it. It
has been customary first to assume that the Puritan
migration was undertaken in the interests of reli-
The migration gious liberty, and then to upbraid the
tenaedVonpro- Puritans for forgetting all about reli-
mote what we * i ¦ i j i
cau religious gious liberty as soon as people came
erty' among them who disagreed with their
opinions. But this view of the case is not sup

THE NEW ENGLAND CONFEDERACY. 145
ported by history. It is quite true that the Puri
tans were chargeable with gross intolerance ; but
it is not true that in this they were guilty of in
consistency. The notion that they came to New
England for the purpose of establishing religious
liberty, in any sense in which we should under
stand such a phrase, is entirely incorrect. It is
neither more nor less than a bit of popular legend.
If we mean by the phrase "religious liberty" a
state of things in which opposite or contradictory
opinions on questions of religion shall exist side
by side in the same community, and in which
everybody shall decide for himself how far he will
conform to the customary religious observances,
nothing could have been further from their
thoughts. There is nothing they would have re
garded with more genuine abhorrence. If they
could have been forewarned by a prophetic voice
of the general freedom — or, as they would have
termed it, license — of thought and behaviour
which prevails in this country to-day, they would
very likely have abandoned their enterprise in
despair.1 The philosophic student of history often
has occasion to see how God is wiser than man.
In other words, he is often brought to realize how
fortunate it is that the leaders in great historic
events cannot foresee the remote results of the
labours to which they have zealously consecrated
their lives. It is part of the irony of human
destiny that the end we really accomplish by
striving with might and main is apt to be some
thing quite different from the end we dreamed of
1 See the passionate exclamation of Endicott, below, p. 1 90.

146 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
as we started on our arduous labour. So it was
with the Puritan settlers of New England. The
religious liberty that we enjoy to-day is largely the
consequence of their work ; but it is a consequence
that was unforeseen, while the direct and conscious
aim of their labours was something that has never
been realized, and probably never will be.
The aim of Winthrop and his friends in coming
to Massachusetts was the construction of a theo
cratic state which should be to Christians, under the
New Testament dispensation, all that the theocracy
of Moses and Joshua and Samuel had
ideal of the been to the Jews in Old Testament days.
Puritans. .
They should be to all intents and pur
poses freed from the jurisdiction of the Stuart
king, and so far as possible the text of the Holy
Scriptures should be their guide both in weighty
matters of general legislation and in the shaping
of the smallest details of daily life. In such a
scheme there was no room for religious liberty as
we understand it. No doubt the text of the
Scriptures may be interpreted in many ways, but
among these men there was a substantial agree
ment as to the important points, and nothing could
have been further from their thoughts than to
found a colony which should afford a field for new
experiments in the art of right living. The state
they were to found was to consist of a united body
of believers ; citizenship itself was to be co-exten
sive with church-membership ; and in such a state
there was apparently no more room for heretics
than there was in Rome or Madrid. This was
the idea which drew Winthrop and his followers

THE NEW ENGLAND CONFEDERACY. 147
from England at a time when — as events were
soon to show — they might have stayed there and
defied persecution with less trouble than it cost
them to cross the ocean and found a new state.
Such an ideal as this, considered by itself and
apart from the concrete acts in which it was his
torically manifested, may seem like the merest
fanaticism. But we cannot dismiss in this sum
mary way a movement which has been at the
source of so much that is great in American his
tory: mere fanaticism has never produced such
substantial results. Mere fanaticism is sure to
aim at changing the constitution of human society
in some essential point, to undo the work of evolu
tion, and offer in some indistinctly apprehended
fashion to remodel human life. But in these re
spects the Puritans were intensely conservative.
The impulse by which they were animated was a
profoundly ethical impulse — the desire
t i • • The impulse
to lead godly lives, and to drive out sin winch sought
c -i . t i«i*° realize it-
Irom the community — the same ethical sen in the
. . . -. , . Puritan ideal
impulse which animates the glowing was an ethical
» , impulse.
pages of Hebrew poets and prophets,
¦and which has given to the history and literature
of Israel their commanding influence in the world.
The Greek, says Matthew Arnold, held that the
perfection of happiness was to have one's thoughts
hit the mark ; but the Hebrew held that it was to
serve the Lord day and night. It was a touch of
this inspiration that the Puritan caught from his
earnest and reverent study of the sacred text, and
that served to justify and intensify his yearning
for a better life, and to give it the character of a

148 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
grand and holy ideal. Yet with all this religious
enthusiasm, the Puritan was in every fibre a
practical Englishman with his full share of plain
common-sense. He avoided the error of medieval
anchorites and mystics in setting an exaggerated
value upon otherworldliness. In his desire to win
a crown of glory hereafter he did not forget that
the present life has its simple duties, in the exact
performance of which the welfare of society mainly
consists. He likewise avoided the error of mod
ern radicals who would remodel the fundamental
institutions of property and of the family, and
thus disturb the very groundwork of our ethical
ideals. The Puritan's ethical conception of society
was simply that which has grown up in the natural
course of historical evolution, and which in its es
sential points is therefore intelligible to all men,
and approved by the common-sense of men, how
ever various may be the terminology — whether
theological or scientific — in which it is expounded.
For these reasons there was nothing essentially
fanatical or impracticable in the Puritan scheme :
in substance it was something that great bodies of
men could at once put into practice, while its
quaint and peculiar form was something that could
be easily and naturally outgrown and set aside.
Yet another point in which the Puritan scheme
of a theocratic society was rational and not fanat-
rnVscriPtoe *ca* was lts metn0<l OI interpreting the
appSedto Scriptures. That method was essen-
his reason. tially rationalistic in two ways. First,
the Puritan laid no claim to the possession of any
peculiar inspiration or divine light whereby he

THE NEW ENGLAND CONFEDERACY. 149
might be aided in ascertaining the meaning of the
sacred text ; but he used his reason just as he
would in any matter of business, and he sought to
convince, and expected to be convinced, by rational
argument, and by nothing else. Secondly, it fol-
lowed from this denial of any peculiar inspiration
that there was no room in the Puritan common
wealth for anything like a priestly class, and that
every individual must hold his own opinions at
his own personal risk. The consequences of this
rationalistic spirit have been very far-reaching.
In the conviction that religious opinion must be
consonant with reason, and that religious truth
must be brought home to each individual by ra
tional argument, we may find one of the chief
causes of that peculiarly conservative yet flexible
intelligence which has enabled the Puritan coun
tries to take the lead in the civilized world of to
day. Free discussion of theological questions,
when conducted with earnestness and reverence,
and within certain generally acknowledged limits,
was never discountenanced in New England. On
the contrary, there has never been a society in the
world in wliich theological problems have been so
seriously and persistently discussed as in New
England in the colonial period. The long ser
mons of the clergymen were usually learned and
elaborate arguments of doctrinal points, bristling
with quotations from the Bible, or from famous
books of controversial divinity, and in the long
winter evenings the questions thus raised afforded
the occasion for lively debate in every household.
The clergy were, as a rule, men of learning, able

150 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
to read both Old and New Testaments in the
original languages, and familiar with the best that
had been talked and written, among Protestants at
least, on theological subjects. They were also, for
the most part, men of lofty character, and they
were held in high social esteem on account of their
character and scholarship, as well as on account of
their clerical position. But in spite of the rever
ence in which they were commonly held, it would
have been a thing quite unheard of for one of
these pastors to urge an opinion from the pulpit
on the sole ground of his personal authority or his
superior knowledge of Scriptural exegesis. The
hearers, too, were quick to detect novelties or vari
ations in doctrine ; and while there was perhaps no
more than the ordinary human unwillingness to
listen to a new thought merely because of its new
ness, it was above all things needful that the ortho
dox soundness of every new suggestion should be
thoroughly and severely tested. This intense in
terest in doctrinal theology was part and parcel of
the whole theory of New England life ; because, as
I have said, it was taken for granted that each in
dividual must hold his own opinions at his own
personal risk in the world to come.
Such perpetual discussion, conducted under
such a stimulus, afforded in itself no
Value of
theological mean school of intellectual training.
discussion. _ o
Viewed in relation to the subsequent
mental activity of New England, it may be said to
have occupied a position somewhat similar to that
which the polemics of the mediaeval schoolmen
occupied in relation to the European thought of

THE NEW ENGLAND CONFEDERACY. 151
the Renaissance, and of the age of Hobbes and
Descartes. At the same time the Puritan theory
of life lay at the bottom of the whole system of
popular education iu New England. According
to that theory, it was absolutely essential that
every one should be taught from early childhood
how to read and understand the Bible. So much
instruction as this was assumed to be a sacred duty
which the community owed to every child born
within its jurisdiction. In ignorance, the Puritans
maintained, lay the principal strength of popery in
religion as well as of despotism in politics ; and so,
to the best of their lights, they cultivated knowl
edge with might and main. But in this energetic
diffusion of knowledge they were unwittingly pre
paring the complete and irreparable destruction of
the theocratic ideal of society which they had
sought to realize by crossing the ocean and set
tling in New England. This universal education,
and this perpetual discussion of theological ques
tions, were no more compatible with rigid adher
ence to the Calvinistic system than with submis
sion to the absolute rule of Rome. The inevitable
result was the liberal and enlightened Protestant
ism which is characteristic of the best American
society at the present day, and which is continually
growing more liberal as it grows more enlightened
— a Protestantism which, in the natural course of
development, is coming to realize the noble ideal
of Roger Williams, but from the very thought of
which such men as Winthrop and Cotton and En
dicott would have shrunk with dismay.
In this connection it is interesting to note the

152 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
similarity between the experience of the Puritans
in New England and in Scotland with respect to
the influence of their religious theory of life upon
general education. Nowhere has Puritanism, with
its keen intelligence and its iron tenacity of pur
pose, played a greater part than it has played in
the history of Scotland. And one need not fear
contradiction in saying that no other people in
modern times, in proportion to their numbers,
have achieved so much in all departments of hu
man activity as the people of Scotland have
achieved. It would be superfluous to
with the case mention the preeminence of Scotland in
of Scotland. _ . 1 . ,
the industrial arts since the days of
James Watt, or to recount the glorious names in
philosophy, in history, in poetry and romance, and
in every department of science, which since the
middle of the eighteenth century have made the
country of Burns and Scott, of Hume and Adam
Smith, of Black and Hunter and Hutton and
Lyell, illustrious for all future time. Now this
period of magnificent intellectual fruition in Scot
land was preceded by a period of Calvinistic or
thodoxy quite as rigorous as that of New England.
The ministers of the Scotch Kirk in the seven
teenth century cherished a theocratic ideal of soci
ety not unlike that which the colonists of New
England aimed at realizing. There was the same
austerity, the same intolerance, the same narrow
ness of interests, in Scotland that there was in
New England. Mr. Buckle, in the book which
thirty years ago seemed so great and stimulating,
gave us a graphic picture of this state of society,

THE NEW ENGLAND CONFEDERACY. 153
and the only thing which he could find to say
about it, as the result of his elaborate survey, was
that the spirit of the Scotch Kirk was as thor
oughly hostile to human progress as the spirit of
the Spanish Inquisition ! If this were really so, it
would be difficult indeed to account for the period
of brilliant mental activity which immediately fol
lowed. But in reality the Puritan theory of life
led to general education in Scotland as it did in
New England, and for precisely the same reasons,
while the effects of theological discussion in break
ing down the old Calvinistic exclusiveness have
been illustrated in the history of Edinburgh as
well as in the history of Boston.
It is well for us to bear in mind the foregoing
considerations as we deal with the history of the
short-lived New England Confederacy. The story
is full of instances of an intolerant and domineer
ing spirit, especially on the part of Massachusetts,
and now and then this spirit breaks forth in ugly
acts of persecution. In considering these facts, it
is well to remember that we are observing the
workings of a system which contained within itself
a curative principle ; and it is further interesting
to observe how political circumstances contributed
to modify the Puritan ideal, gradually breaking
down the old theocratic exclusiveness and strength
ening the spirit of religious liberty.
Scarcely had the first New England colonies been
established when it was found desirable to unite
them into some kind of a confederation. It is
worthy of note that the separate existence of so
many colonies was at the outset largely the result

154 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
of religious differences. The uniformity of pur
pose, great as it was, fell far short of completeness.
„ . x . Could all have agreed, or had there
Existence of . .
so many coi- been religious toleration in the modern
omes due to °
slight reu- sense, there was still room enough for
gious differ- ' °
ences. a]j jn Massachusetts ; and a compact
settlement would have been in much less danger
from the Indians. But in the founding of Connec
ticut the theocratic idea had less weight, and in the
founding of New Haven it had more weight, than
in Massachusetts. The existence of Rhode Island
was based upon that principle of full toleration
which the three colonies just mentioned alike ab
horred, and its first settlers were people banished
from Massachusetts. With regard to toleration
Plymouth occupied a middle ground ; without
admitting the principles of Williams, the people of
that colony were still fairly tolerant in practice.
Of the four towns of New Hampshire, twd had
been founded by Antinomians driven from Boston,
and two by Episcopal friends of Mason and
Gorges. It was impossible that neighbouring
communities, characterized by such differences of
opinion, but otherwise homogeneous in race and in
social condition, should fail to react upon one an
other and to liberalize one another. Still more
was this true when they attempted to enter into a
political union. When, for example, Massachusetts
in 1641-43 annexed the New Hampshire town
ships, she was of necessity obliged to relax in their
case her policy of insisting upon religious conform
ity as a test of citizenship. So in forming the
New England Confederacy, there were some mat-

THE NEW ENGLAND CONFEDERACY. 165
ters of dispute that had to be passed over by mu
tual consent or connivance.
The same causes which had spread the English
settlements over so wide a territory now led, as an
indirect result, to their partial union into a confed
eracy. The immediate consequence of the west
ward movement had been an Indian war. Several
savage tribes were now interspersed between the
settlements, so that it became desirable that the
military force should be brought, as far as possi
ble, under one management. The col- Itiedtoa
ony of New Netherlands, moreover, had temabtat fed-
begun to assume importance, and the eration-
settlements west of the Connecticut river had al
ready occasioned hard words between Dutch and
English, which might at any moment be followed
by blows. In the French colonies at the north,
with their extensive Indian alliances under Jesuit
guidance, the Puritans saw a rival power which
was likely in course of time to prove troublesome.
With a view to more efficient self-defence, there
fore, in 1643 the four colonies of Massachusetts,
Plymouth, Connecticut, and New Haven formed
themselves into a league, under the style of " The
United Colonies of New England." These four lit
tle states now contained thirty-nine towns, with an
aggregate population of 24,000. To the northeast
of Massachusetts, which now extended to the Pis
cataqua, a small colony had at length been con
stituted under a proprietary charter somewhat
similar to that held by the Calverts in Maryland.
Of this new province or palatinate of Maine the
aged Sir Ferdinando Gorges was Lord Proprie-

156 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
tary, and he had undertaken not only to establish
the Church of England there, but also to introduce
usages of feudal jurisdiction like those remaining
in the old country. Such a community was not
likely to join the Confederacy ; apart from other
reasons, its proprietary constitution and the feud
between the Puritans and Gorges would have been
sufficient obstacles.
As for Rhode Island^ on the other hand, it was
regarded with strong dislike by the other colonies.
It was a curious and noteworthy consequence of
the circumstances under which this little state was
founded that for a long time it became the refuge
of all the fanatical and turbulent peo-
of disseiTm pie who could not submit to the strict
Rhode Island. ' -, -, , . t. /~« . «
and orderly governments of Connecti
cut or Massachusetts. All extremes met on Narra
gansett bay. There were not only sensible advo
cates of religious liberty, but theocrats as well who
saw flaws in the theocracy of other Puritans. The
English world was then in a state of theological
fermentation. People who fancied themselves fa
voured with direct revelations from Heaven ; peo
ple who thought it right to keep the seventh day
of the week as a Sabbath instead of the first day ;
people who cherished a special predilection for the
Apocalypse and the Book of Daniel ; people with
queer views about property and government ; peo
ple who advocated either too little marriage or too
much marriage ; all such eccentric characters as
are apt to come to the surface in periods of reli
gious excitement found in Rhode Island a favoured
spot where they could prophesy without let or

THE NEW ENGLAND CONFEDERACY. 157
hindrance. But the immediate practical result of
so much discordance in opinion was the impossibil
ity of founding a strong and well-ordered govern
ment. The early history of Rhode Island was
marked by enough of turbulence to suggest the
question whether, after all, at the bottom of the
Puritan's refusal to recognize the doctrine of pri
vate inspiration, or to tolerate indiscriminately all
sorts of opinions, there may not have been a grain
of shrewd political sense not ill adapted to the
social condition of the seventeenth century. In
1644 and again in 1648 the Narragansett settlers
asked leave to join the Confederacy ; but the re
quest was refused on the ground that they had no
stable government of their own. They were offered
the alternative of voluntary annexation either to
Massachusetts or to Plymouth, or of staying out
in the cold ; and they chose the latter course.
Early in 1643 they had sent Roger Williams over
to England to obtain a charter for Rhode Island.
In that year Parliament created a Board
i- /-i • • • i i t-i The Earl of
of Commissioners, with the Earl of Warwick and
tit "i i i c .his Board of
Warwick at its head, tor the superin- commission
ers.
tendence of colonial affairs ; and noth
ing could better illustrate the loose and reckless
manner in which American questions were treated
in England than the first proceedings of this
board. It gave an early instance of British care
lessness in matters of American geography. In
December, 1643, it granted to Massachusetts all the
territory on the mainland of Narragansett bay;
and in the following March it incorporated the
townships of Newport and Portsmouth, which

158 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
stood on the island, together with Providence,
which stood on the mainland, into an independent
colony empowered to frame a government and
make laws for itself. With this second document
Williams returned to Providence in the autumn
of 1644. Just how far it was intended to cancel
the first one, nobody could tell, but it plainly af
forded an occasion for a conflict of claims.
The league of the four colonies is interesting as
the first American experiment in federation. By
the articles it was agreed that each colony should
retain full independence so far as concerned the
management of its internal affairs, but that the
confederate government should have entire control
over all dealings with the Indians or with foreign
powers. The administration of the league was put
into the hands of a board of eight Fed-
Constitution ^ ~ . . _ , ,
of the Con- eral Commissioners, two trom each col-
federacy. . . .
ony. Ihe commissioners were required
to be church-members in good standing. They
could choose for themselves a president or chair
man out of their own number, but such a president
was to have no more power than the other mem
bers of the Board. If any measure were to come
up concerning which the commissioners could not
agree, it was to be referred for consideration to the
legislatures or general courts of the four colonies.
Expenses for war were to be charged to each col
ony in proportion to the number of males in each
between sixteen years of age and sixty. A meet
ing of the Board might be summoned by any two
magistrates whenever the public safety might seem
to require it ; but a regular meeting was to be held
once every year.

THE NEW ENGLAND CONFEDERACY. 159
In this scheme of confederacy all power of tax
ation was expressly left to the several colonies.
The scheme provided for a mere league,
not for a federal union. The govern- league, not a
- ~ , federal union.
ment of the Commissioners acted only
upon the local governments, not upon individuals.
The Board had thus but little executive power,
and was hardly more than a consulting body.
Another source of weakness in the confederacy
was the overwhelming preponderance of Massa
chusetts. Of the 24,000 people in the confedera
tion, 15,000 belonged to Massachusetts, while the
other three colonies had only about 3,000 each.
Massachusetts accordingly had to carry the heav
iest burden, both in the furnishing of soldiers and
in the payment of war expenses, while in the direc
tion of affairs she had no more authority than one
of the small colonies. As a natural consequence,
Massachusetts tried to exert more authority than
she was entitled to by the articles of confedera
tion ; and such conduct was not unnaturally re
sented by the small colonies, as betokening an un
fair and domineering spirit. In spite of these
drawbacks, however, the league was of great value
to New England. On many occasions it worked
well as a high court of jurisdiction, and it made
the military strength of the colonies more availa
ble than it would otherwise have been. But for
the interference of the British government, which
brought it to an untimely end, the Confederacy
might have been gradually amended so as to be
come enduring. After its downfall it was pleas
antly remembered by the people of New England ;

160 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
in times of trouble their thoughts reverted to it ;
and the historian must in fairness assign it some
share in preparing men's minds for the greater
work of federation which was achieved before the
end of the following century.
The formation of such a confederacy certainly
involved something very like a tacit assumption of
its formation sovereignty on the part of the four colo-
IrassuntpHon" mes. It is worthy of note that they did
of sovereignty. not take fae trouble to ask the permis
sion of the home government in advance. They
did as they pleased, and then defended their action
afterward. In England the act of confederation
was regarded with jealousy and distrust. But
Edward Winslow, who was sent over to London
to defend the colonies, pithily said : " If we in
America should forbear to unite for offence and
defence against a common enemy till we have
leave from England, our throats might be all cut
before the messenger would be half seas through."
Whether such considerations would have had
weight with Charles I. or not was now of little
consequence. His power of making mischief soon
came to an end, and from the liberal and sagacious
policy of Cromwell the Confederacy had not much
to fear. Nevertheless the fall of Charles I. brought
up for the first time that question which a century
later was to acquire surpassing interest, — the ques
tion as to the supremacy of Parliament over the
colonies. Down to this time the supreme control over colo
nial affairs had been in the hands of the king and
his privy council, and the Parliament had not dis-

THE NEW ENGLAND CONFEDERACY. 161
puted it. In 1624 they had grumbled at James
L's high-handed suppression of the Virginia Com
pany, but they had not gone so far as to call in
question the king's supreme authority over the
colonies. In 1628, in a petition to Charles I. re
lating to the Bermudas, they had fully admitted
this royal authority. But the fall of Charles I. for
the moment changed all this. Among
,, . j i j -r. t Fall of Charles
tne royal powers devolved upon Parlia- i. brings up
_ . . the question
ment was the prerogative of superintend- as to suprem-
ing the affairs of the colonies. Such, at ment over the
l ii ii-i«-r-,f colonies.
least, was the theory held in England,
and it is not easy to see how any other theory
could logically have been held ; but the Amer.
icans never formally admitted it, and in practice
they continued to behave toward Parliament very
much as they had behaved toward the crown, yield
ing just as little obedience as possible. When
the Earl of Warwick's commissioners in 1644
seized upon a royalist vessel in Boston harbour,
the legislature of Massachusetts debated the ques
tion whether it was compatible with the dignity of
the colony to permit such an act of sovereignty on
the part of Parliament. It was decided to wink
at the proceeding, on account of the strong sym
pathy between Massachusetts and the Parliament
which was overthrowing the king. At the same
time the legislature sent over to London a skil
fully worded protest against any like exercise of
power in future. In 1651 Parliament ordered
Massachusetts to surrender the charter obtained
from Charles I. and take out a new one from Par
liament, in which the relations of the colony to the

162 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
home government should be made the subject of
fresh and more precise definition. To this request
the colony for more than a year vouchsafed no
answer ; and finally, when it became necessary to
do something, instead of sending back the charter,
the legislature sent back a memorial, setting forth
that the people of Massachusetts were quite con
tented with their form of government, and hoped
that no change would be made in it. War be
tween England and Holland, and the difficult
political problems which beset the brief rule of
Cromwell, prevented the question from coming to
an issue, and Massachusetts was enabled to pre
serve her independent and somewhat haughty
attitude. During the whole period of the Confederacy,
however, disputes kept coming up which through
endless crooked ramifications were apt to end in
an appeal to the home government, and thus raise
again and again the question as to the extent of
its imperial supremacy. For our present purpose,
it is enough to mention three of these cases : 1, the
adventures of Samuel Gorton ; 2, the Presbyterian
cabal; 3, the persecution of the Quakers. Other
cases in point are those of John Clarke and the
Baptists, and the relations of Massachusetts to
the northeastern settlements ; but as it is not my
purpose here to make a complete outline of New
England history, the three cases enumerated will
suffice. The first case shows, in a curious and instructive
way, how religious dissensions were apt to be com
plicated with threats of an Indian war on the one

THE NEW ENGLAND CONFEDERACY. 163
hand and peril from Great Britain on the other ;
and as we come to realize the triple danger, we can
perhaps make some allowances for the high-handed
measures with which the Puritan governments
sometimes sought to avert it. As I have else
where tried to show, the genesis of the persecut
ing spirit is to be found in the condi-
..... . Genesis of the
tions of primitive society, where "above persecuting
all things the prime social and political
necessity is social cohesion within the tribal limits,
for unless such social cohesion be maintained, the
very existence of the tribe is likely to be extin
guished in bloodshed." The persecuting spirit
"began to pass away after men had become or
ganized into great nations, covering a vast extent
of territory, and secured by their concentrated
military strength against the gravest dangers of
barbaric attack." 1 Now as regards these con
siderations, the Puritan communities in the New
England wilderness were to some slight extent in
fluenced by such conditions as used to prevail in
primitive society ; and this will help us to under
stand the treatment of the Antinomians and such
cases as that with which we have now to deal.
Among the supporters of Mrs. Hutchinson, after
her arrival at Aquedneck, was a sincere and cour
ageous, but incoherent and crotchetty man named
Samuel Gorton. In the denunciatory SamueiGor.
language of that day he was called a ton-
" proud and pestilent seducer," or, as the modern
newspaper would say, a "crank." It is well to
make due allowances for the prejudice so con«
1 Excursions of an Evolutionist, pp. 250, 255.

164 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND-
spicuous in the accounts given by his enemies, who
felt obliged to justify their harsh treatment of
him. But we have also his own writings from
which to form an opinion as to his character and
views. Lucidity, indeed, was not one of his strong
points as a writer, and the drift of his argument is
not always easy to decipher ; but he seems to have
had some points of contact with the Familists, a
sect established in the sixteenth century in Hol
land. The Familists held that the essence of re
ligion consists not in adherence to any particular
creed or ritual, but in cherishing the spirit of
divine love. The general adoption of this point
of view was to inaugurate a third dispensation,
superior to those of Moses and Christ, the dis
pensation of the Holy Ghost. The value of the
Bible lay not so much in the literal truth of its
texts as in their spiritual import ; and by the
union of believers with Christ they came to share
in the ineffable perfection of the Godhead. There
is much that is modern and enlightened in such
views, which Gorton seems to some extent to have
shared. He certainly set little store by ritual ob
servances and maintained the equal right of lay
men with clergymen to preach the gospel. Him
self a London clothier, and thanking God that he
had not been brought up in " the schools of human
learning," he set up as a preacher without ordina
tion, and styled himself " professor of the mysteries
of Christ." He seems to have cherished that doc
trine of private inspiration which the Puritans
especially abhorred. It is not likely that he had
any distinct comprehension of his own views, for

THE NEW ENGLAND CONFEDERACY. 165
distinctness was just what they lacked.1 But they
were such as in the seventeenth century could not
fail to arouse fierce antagonism, and if it was true
that wherever there was a government Gorton was
against it, perhaps that only shows that wherever
1 A glimmer of light upon Gorton may be got from reading
the title-page of one of his books: "An Incorruptible Key,
composed of the CX Psalme, wherewith you may open the Rest
of the Holy Scriptures ; Turning itself only according to the
Composure and Art of that Lock, of the Closure and Secresie of
that great Mystery of God manifest in the Flesh, but justified
only by the Spirit, which it evidently openeth and revealeth, out
of Fall and Resurrection, Sin and Righteousness, Ascension and
Descension, Height and Depth, First and Last, Beginning and
Ending, Mesh and Spirit, Wisdome and Foolishnesse, Strength
and Weakness, Mortality and Immortality, Jew and Gentile,
Light and Darknesse, Unity and Multiplication, Fruitfulness
and Barrenness, Curse and Blessing, Man and Woman, Kingdom
and Priesthood, Heaven and Earth, Allsufficiency and Deficiency,
God and Man. And out of every Unity made up of twaine, it
openeth that great two-leafed Gate, which is the sole Entrie into
the City of God, of New Jerusalem, into which none but the King
of glory can enter ; and as that Porter openeth the Doore of the
Sheepfold, by which whosoever entreth is the Shepheard of the
Sheep ; See Isa. 45. 1. Psal. 24. 7, 8, 9, 10. John 10. 1, 2, 3 ; Or,
(according to the Signification of the Word translated Psalme,)
it is a Pruning-Knif e, to lop off from the Church of Christ all
superfluous Twigs of earthly and carnal Commandments, Leviti-
call Services or Ministery, and fading and vanishing Priests, or
Ministers, who are taken away and cease, and are not established
and confirmed by Death, as holding no Correspondency with the
princely Dignity, Office, and Ministry of our Melchisedeh, who is
the only Minister and Ministry of the Sanctuary, and of that true
Tabernacle which the Lord piteht, and not Man. For it sup
plants the Old Man, and implants the New ; abrogates the Old
Testament or Covenant, and confirms the New, unto a thousand
Generations, or in Generations forever. By Samuel Gorton, Gent.,
and at the time of penning hereof, in the Place of Judicature
(upon Aquethneck, alias Road Island) of Providence Plantations
in the Nanhyganset Bay, New England. Printed in the Yeere
1647."

166 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
there was a government it was sure to be against
him. In the case of such men as Gorton, however, —
and the type is by no means an uncommon one,
— their temperament usually has much more to do
with getting them into trouble than their opinions.
Gorton's temperament was such as to keep him
always in an atmosphere of strife. Other heresi-
archs suffered persecution in Massachusetts, but
Gorton was in hot water everywhere. His arrival
in any community was the signal for an immediate
disturbance of the peace. His troubles began in
Plymouth, where the wife of the pastor preferred
He flees to ^is teachings to those of her husband.
£bUaS! and In I638 he fled to Aquedneck, where his
thence. £rgt acnievement was a schism among
Mrs. Hutchinson's followers, which ended in some
staying to found the town of Portsmouth while
others went away to found Newport. Presently
Portsmouth found him intolerable, flogged and
banished him, and after his departure was able to
make up its quarrel with Newport. He next made
his way with a few followers to Pawtuxet, within
the jurisdiction of Providence, and now it is the
broad-minded and gentle Roger Williams who
complains of his "bewitching and madding poor
Providence." The question is here suggested what
could it have been in Gorton's teaching that en
abled him thus to " bewitch " these little commu
nities ? We may be sure that it could not have
been the element of modern liberalism suggested
in the Familistic doctrines above cited. That was
the feature then least likely to appeal to the minds

THE NEW ENGLAND CONFEDERACY. 167
of common people, and most likely to appeal to
Williams. More probably such success as Gorton
had in winning followers was due to some of the
mystical rubbish which abounds in his pages and
finds in a modern mind no doorway through which
to enter.
Williams disapproved of Gorton, but was true
to his principles of toleration and would not take
part in any attempt to silence him. But in 1641
we find thirteen leading citizens of Providence,
headed by William Arnold,1 sending a memorial
to Boston, asking for assistance and counsel in re
gard to this disturber of the peace. How was
Massachusetts to treat such an appeal ? She
could not presume to meddle with the
iv. • i i iii , Providence
aftair unless she could have permanent protests
. t . T-. . . against him.
jurisdiction over Pawtuxet ; otherwise
she was a mere intruder. How strong a side-light
does this little incident throw upon the history of
the Roman republic, and of all relatively strong
communities when confronted with the problem of
preserving order in neighbouring states that are
too weak to preserve it for themselves ! Arnold's
argument, in his appeal to Massachusetts, was
precisely the same as that by which the latter col
ony excused herself for banishing the Antinomians.
He simply says that Gorton and his company " are
not fit persons to be received, and made members
of a body in so weak a state as our town is in at
1 Father of Benedict Arnold, afterward governor of Rhode
Island, and owner of the stone windmill (apparently copied from
one in Chesterton, Warwickshire) which was formerly supposed
by some antiquarians to be a vestige of the Northmen. Governor
Benedict Arnold was great-grandfather of the traitor.

168 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
present ; " and he adds, " There is no state but in
the first place will seek to preserve its own safety
and peace." Whatever might be the abstract
merits of Gorton's opinions, his conduct was politi
cally dangerous ; and accordingly the jurisdiction
over Pawtuxet was formally conceded to Massa
chusetts. Thereupon that colony, assuming juris
diction, summoned Gorton and his men to Boston,
to prove their title to the lands they occupied.
They of course regarded the summons as a fla
grant usurpation of authority, and instead of obey
ing it they withdrew to Shawomet, on
He flees to ° J '
shawomet, the western shore of .Narragansett bay,
where he buys ° ^
land of the where they bought a tract of land from
Indians. •* °
the principal sachem of the Narragan
setts, Miantonomo. The immediate rule over this
land belonged to two inferior chiefs, who ratified
the sale at the time, but six months afterward dis
avowed the ratification, on the ground that it had
been given under duress from their overlord Mi
antonomo. Here was a state of things which
might easily bring on an Indian war. The two
chiefs appealed to Massachusetts for protection,
and were accordingly summoned, along with Mian
tonomo, to a hearing at Boston. Here we see how
a kind of English protectorate over the native
tribes had begun to grow up so soon after the de
struction of the Pequots. Such a result was in
evitable. After hearing the arguments, the legis
lature decided to defend the two chiefs, provided
they would put themselves under the jurisdiction
of Massachusetts. This was done, while further
complaints against Gorton came from the citizens

THE NEW ENGLAND CONFEDERACY. 169
of Providence. Gorton and his men were now
peremptorily summoned to Boston to show cause
why they should not surrender their land at Shawo
met and to answer the charges against them. On
receiving from Gorton a defiant reply, couched in
terms which some thought blasphemous, the gov
ernment of Massachusetts prepared to use force.
Meanwhile the unfortunate Miantonomo had
rushed upon his doom. The annihilation of the
Pequots had left the Mohegans and Narragansetts
contending for the foremost place among the na
tive tribes. Between the rival sachems, Uncas
and Miantonomo, the hatred was deep and deadly.
As soon as the Mohegan perceived that trouble
was brewing between Miantonomo and the govern
ment at Boston, he improved the occasion by gath
ering a few Narragansett scalps. Miantonomo
now took the war-path and was totally defeated by
Uncas in a battle on the Great Plain in the pres
ent township of Norwich. Encumbered with a coat
of mail which his friend Gorton had given him,
Miantonomo was overtaken and cap- Miantonomo
. i t> -i • -r -i • i and Uncas.
tured. By ordinary Indian usage he
would have been put to death with fiendish tor
ments, as soon as due preparations could be made
and a fit company assembled to gloat over his
agony ; but Gorton sent a messenger to Uncas,
threatening dire vengeance if harm were done to
his ally. This message puzzled the Mohegan
chief. The appearance *of a schism in the English
counsels was more than he could quite fathom.
When the affair had somewhat more fully devel
oped itself, some of the Indians spoke of the white

170 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
men as divided into two rival tribes, the Gorton-
oges and Wattaconoges.1 Roger Williams tells us
that the latter term, applied to the men of Boston,
meant coat-wearers. Whether it is to be inferred
that the Gortonoges went about in what in modern
parlance would be called their " shirt-sleeves," the
reader must decide.
In his perplexity Uncas took his prisoner to
Hartford, and afterward, upon the advice of the
governor and council, sent him to Boston, that his
fate might be determined by the Federal Commis
sioners who were there holding their first regular
meeting. It was now the turn of the commission
ers to be perplexed. According to English law
there was no good reason for putting Mianto
nomo to death. The question was whether they
should interfere with the Indian custom by which
his life was already forfeit to his captor. The
magistrates already suspected the Narragansetts of
cherishing hostile designs. To set their sachem at
liberty, especially while the Gorton affair remained
unsettled, might be dangerous ; and it would be
likely to alienate Uncas from the English. In
their embarrassment the commissioners sought
spiritual guidance. A synod of forty or fifty
clergymen, from all parts of New England, was in
session at Boston, and the question was referred to
a committee of five of their number. The decision
was prompt that Miantonomo must die. He was
sent back to Hartford to be slain by Uncas, but
two messengers accompanied him, to see that no
1 Gorton, Simplicities Defence against Seven-headed Policy, p.

THE NEW ENGLAND CONFEDERACY- 111
tortures were inflicted. A select band of Mohegan
warriors journeyed through the forest with the
prisoner and the two Englishmen, until they came
to the plain where the battle had been fought.
Then at a signal from Uncas, the war- Death of
rior walking behind Miantonomo si- Miantonomo-
lently lifted his tomahawk and sank it into the
brain of the victim who fell dead without a groan.
Uncas cut a warm slice from the shoulder and
greedily devoured it, declaring that the flesh of his
enemy was the sweetest of meat and gave strength
to his heart. Miantonomo was buried there on the
scene of his defeat, which has ever since been
known as the Sachem's Plain. This was in Sep
tember, 1643, and for years afterward, in that
month, parties of Narragansetts used to visit the
spot and with frantic gestures and hideous yells
lament their fallen leader. A heap of stones was
raised over the grave, and no Narragansett came
near it without adding to the pile. After many a
summer had passed and the red men had disap
peared from the land, a Yankee farmer, with whom
thrift prevailed over sentiment, cleared away the
mound and used the stones for the foundation of
his new barn.1
One cannot regard this affair as altogether cred
itable to the Federal Commissioners and their
clerical advisers. One of the clearest-headed and
most impartial students of our history observes
that " if the English were to meddle in the matter
at all, it was their clear duty to enforce as far as
1 De Forest, History of the Indians of Connecticut, Hartford,
1850, p. 198.

172 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
might be the principles recognized by civilized
men. When they accepted the appeal made by
Uncas they shifted the responsibility from the
Mohegan chief to themselves." 1 The decision was
doubtless based purely upon grounds of policy.
Miantonomo was put out of the way because he
was believed to be dangerous. In the thirst for
revenge that was aroused among the Narragansetts
there was an alternative source of danger, to which
I shall hereafter refer.2 It is difficult now to de
cide, as a mere question of safe policy, what the
English ought to have done. The chance of being
dragged into an Indian war, through the feud be
tween Narragansetts and Mohegans, was always
imminent. The policy which condemned Mianto
nomo was one of timidity, and fear is merciless.
The Federal Commissioners heartily approved
the conduct of Massachusetts toward Gorton, and
adopted it in the name of the United Colonies.
After a formal warning, which passed unheeded, a
company of forty men, under Edward Johnson of
Woburn and two other officers, was sent to Sha
womet. Some worthy citizens of Provi-
Expedition J
against sha- dence essayed to play the part of media-
womet. ^ ± ^ x
tors, and after some parley the Gorton-
ites offered to submit to arbitration. The proposal
was conveyed to Boston, and the clergy were again
consulted. They declared it beneath the dignity
of Massachusetts to negotiate "with a few fugi
tives living without law or government," and they
would no more compound with Gorton's " blas-
1 Doyle, Puritan Colonies, i. 324.
2 See below, p. 222, note.

THE NEW ENGLAND CONFEDERACY. 173
phemous revilings " than they would bargain with
the Evil One. The community must be " purged "
of such wickedness, either by repentance or by
punishment. The ministers felt that God would
hold the community responsible for Gorton and
visit calamities upon them unless he were silenced.1
The arbitration was refused, Gorton's blockhouse
was besieged and captured, and the agitator was
carried with nine of his followers to Boston, where
they were speedily convicted of heresy and sedition.
Before passing judgment the General
Court as usual consulted with the clergy tence of the
who recommended a sentence of death.
Their advice was adopted by the assistants, but the
deputies were more merciful, and the heretics were
sentenced to imprisonment at the pleasure of the
court. In this difference between the assistants
and the deputies, we observe an early symptom of
that popular revolt against the ascendancy of the
clergy which was by and by to become so much
more conspicuous and effective in the affair of the
Quakers. Another symptom might be seen in the
circumstance that so much sympathy was ex
pressed for the Gortonites, especially by women,
that after some months of imprisonment and abuse
the heretics were banished under penalty of death.
Gorton now went to England and laid his tale
of woe before the parliamentary Board
of Commissioners. The Earl of War. peais to Par-
wick behaved with moderation. He de
clined to commit himself to an opinion as to the
1 See my Excursions of an Evolutionist, pp. 239-242, 250-
255, 286-289.

174 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
merits of the quarrel, but Gorton's title to Sha
womet was confirmed. He returned to Boston with
an order to the government to allow him to pass
unmolested through Massachusetts, and hereafter
to protect him in the possession of Shawomet. If
this little commonwealth of 15,000 inhabitants had
been a nation as powerful as France, she could not
have treated the message more haughtily. By a
majority of one vote it was decided not to refuse so
trifling a favour as a passage through the country
for just this once ; but as for protecting the new
town of Warwick which the Gortonites proceeded
to found at Shawomet, although it was several
times threatened by the Indians, and the settlers
appealed to the parliamentary order, that order
Massachusetts flatly and doggedly refused to obey.1
In the discussions of which these years were so
full, " King Winthrop," as his enemy Morton
„ called him, used some very significant
Winthrop's . .
prophetic language. By a curious legal fiction of
opmion. ° ° -* °
the Massachusetts charter the colonists
were supposed to hold their land as in the manor
of East Greenwich near London, and it was argued
that they were represented in Parliament by the
members of the county or borough which contained
that manor, and were accordingly subject to the
jurisdiction of Parliament. It was further argued
that since the king had no absolute sovereignty in-
1 Gorton's life at Warwick, after all these troubles, seems to
have been quiet and happy. He died in 1677 at a great age. In
1771 Dr. Ezra Stiles visited, in Providence, his last surviving dis
ciple, born in 1691. This old man said that Gorton wrote in
heaven, and none can understand his books except those who live
in heaven while on earth.

THE NEW ENGLAND CONFEDERACY, lib
dependent of Parliament he could not by charter
impart any such independent sovereignty to others.
Winthrop did not dispute these points, but ob
served that the safety of the commonwealth was
the supreme law, and if in the interests of that
safety it should be found necessary to renounce the
authority of Parliament, the colonists would be jus
tified in doing so.1 This was essentially the same
doctrine as was set forth ninety-nine years later by
young Samuel Adams in his Commencement Ora
tion at Harvard.
The case of the Presbyterian cabal admits of
briefer treatment than that of Gorton. There had
now come to be many persons in Massachusetts
who disapproved of the provision which restricted
the suffrage to members of the Independent or
Congregational churches of New England, and in
1646 the views of these people were presented in
a petition to the General Court. The petitioners
asked " that their civil disabilities might be re
moved, and that all members of the churches of
England and Scotland might be admitted to com
munion with the New England churches. If this
could not be granted they prayed to be released
from all civil burdens. Should the court refuse to
entertain their complaint, they would be obliged to
bring their case before Parliament." 2 The leading
signers of this menacing petition were
William Vassall, Samuel Maverick, and gS^Sfi!
Dr. Robert Child. Maverick we have
already met. From the day when the ships of the
1 Doyle, Puritan Colonies, i. 369.
2 Doyle, i. 372.

176 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
first Puritan settlers had sailed past his log for
tress on Noddle's Island, he had been their enemy ;
" a man of loving and curteous behaviour," says
Johnson, " very ready to entertaine strangers, yet
an enemy to the reformation in hand, being strong
for the lordly prelatical power." Vassall was not
a denizen of Massachusetts, but lived in Scituate,
in the colony of Plymouth, where there were no
such restrictions upon the suffrage. Child was a
learned physician who after a good deal of roaming
about the world had lately taken it into his head to
come and see what sort of a place Massachusetts
was. Although these names were therefore not
such as to lend weight to such a petition, their re
quest would seem at first sight reasonable enough.
At a superficial glance it seems conceived in a
modern spirit of liberalism. In reality it was noth
ing of the sort. In England it was just the critical
moment of the struggle between Presbyterians and
Independents which had come in to complicate the
issues of the great civil war. Vassall, Child, and
Maverick seem to have been the leading spirits in
a cabal for the establishment of Presbyterianism in
New England, and in their petition they simply
took advantage of the discontent of the disfran
chised citizens in Massachusetts in order to put in
an entering wedge. This was thoroughly under
stood by the legislature of Massachusetts, and ac
cordingly the petition was dismissed and the peti
tioners were roundly fined. Just as Child was
about to start for England with his grievances, the
magistrates overhauled his papers and discovered a
petition to the parliamentary Board of Commis-

THE NEW ENGLAND CONFEDERACY. Ill
sioners, suggesting that Presbyterianism should be
established in New England, and that a viceroy or
governor-general should be appointed to rule there.
To the men of Massachusetts this last suggestion
was a crowning horror. It seemed scarcely less
than treason. The signers of this petition were
the same who had signed the petition to the Gen
eral Court. They were now fined still more heavily
and imprisoned for six months. By and by they
found their way, one after another, to London,
while the colonists sent Edward Winslow, of Plym
outh, as an advocate to thwart their schemes.
Winslow was assailed by Child's brother in a spicy
pamphlet entitled " New England's Jonas cast up
at London," and replied after the same sort, en
titling his pamphlet " New England's Salamander
discovered." The cabal accomplished nothing be
cause of the decisive defeat of Presbyterianism in
England. " Pride's Purge " settled all that.
The petition of Vassall and his friends was the
occasion for the meeting of a synod of churches at
Cambridge, in order to complete the organization
of Congregationalism. In 1648 the work of the
synod was embodied in the famous Cam
bridge Platform, which adopted the bridge piat-
Westminster Confession as its creed, ofWi'nthrop
carefully defined the powers of the
clergy, and declared it to be the duty of magis
trates to suppress heresy. In 1649 the General
Court laid this platform before the congregations ;
in 1651 it was adopted ; and this event may be re
garded as completing the theocratic organization
of the Puritan commonwealth in Massachusetts.

178 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
It was immediately preceded and followed by the
deaths of the two foremost men in that common
wealth. John Winthrop died in 1649 and John
Cotton in 1652. Both were men of extraordinary
power. Of Winthrop it is enough to say that un
der his skilful guidance Massachusetts had been
able to pursue the daring policy which had charac
terized the first twenty years of her history, and
which in weaker hands would almost surely have
ended in disaster. Of Cotton it may be said that
he was the most eminent among a group of clergy
men who for learning and dialectical skill have sel
dom been surpassed. Neither Winthrop nor Cot
ton approved of toleration upon principle. Cotton,
in his elaborate controversy with Roger Williams,
frankly asserted that persecution is not wrong in
itself; it is wicked for falsehood to persecute
truth, but it is the sacred duty of truth to perse
cute falsehood. This was the theologian's view.
Winthrop's was that of a man of affairs. They
had come to New England, he said, in order to
make a society after their own model ; all who
agreed with them might come and join that society ;
those who disagreed with them might go else
where ; there was room enough on the American
continent. But while neither Winthrop nor Cot
ton understood the principle of religious liberty,
at the same time neither of them had the tempera
ment which persecutes. Both were men of genial
disposition, sound common-sense, and exquisite tact.
Under their guidance no such tragedy would have
been possible as that which was about to leave its
ineffaceable stain upon the annals of Massachusetts.

THE NEW ENGLAND CONFEDERACY. 179
It was most unfortunate that at this moment the
places of these two men should have been taken by
two as arrant fanatics as ever drew breath. For
thirteen out of the fifteen years following Win
throp's death, the governor of Massachu-
tit-it. i • Endicott and
setts was J onn Jiinaicott, a sturdy pio- Norton take
. . , , J f , the lead.
neer, whose services to the colony had
been great. He was honest and conscientious, but
passionate, domineering, and very deficient in tact.
At the same time Cotton's successor in position and
influence was John Norton, a man of pungent wit,
unyielding temper, and melancholy mood. He
was possessed by a morbid fear of Satan, whose
hirelings he thought were walking up and down
over the earth in the visible semblance of heretics
and schismatics. Under such leaders the bigotry
latent in the Puritan commonwealth might easily
break out in acts of deadly persecution.
The occasion was not long in coming. Already
the preaching of George Fox had borne fruit, and
the noble sect of Quakers was an object of scorn
and loathing to all such as had not gone so far as
they toward learning the true lesson of Protestant
ism. Of all Protestant sects the Quakers went
furthest in stripping off from Christianity its non
essential features of doctrine and cere- Tbe Quakera
monial. Their ideal was not a theoc- ™e^*heir
racy but a separation between church
and state. They would abolish all distinction be
tween clergy and laity, and could not be coaxed or
bullied into paying tithes. They also refused to
render military service, or to take the oath of alle
giance. In these ways they came at once into

180 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
antagonism both with church and with state. In
doctrine their chief peculiarity was the assertion of
an "Inward Light" by which every individual is
to be guided in his conduct of life. They did not
believe that men ceased to be divinely inspired
when the apostolic ages came to an end, but held
that at all times and places the human soul may
be enlightened by direct communion with its
Heavenly Father. Such views involved the most
absolute assertion of the right of private judgment ;
and when it is added that in the exercise of this
right many Quakers were found to reject the
dogmas of original sin and the resurrection of the
body, to doubt the efficacy of baptism, and to call
in question the propriety of Christians turning the
Lord's Day into a Jewish Sabbath, we see that
they had in some respects gone far on the road
toward modern rationalism. It was not to be ex
pected that such opinions should be treated by the
Puritans in any other spirit than one of extreme
abhorrence and dread. The doctrine of the " In
ward Light," or of private inspiration, was some
thing especially hateful to the Puritan. To the
modern rationalist, looking at things in the dry
light of history, it may seem that this doctrine
was only the Puritan's own appeal to individual
judgment, stated in different form ; but the Puri
tan could not so regard it. To such a fanatic as
Norton this inward light was but a reflection from
the glare of the bottomless pit, this private inspira
tion was the beguiling voice of the Devil. As it
led the Quakers to strange and novel conclusions,
this inward light seemed to array itself in hostility

THE NEW ENGLAND CONFEDERACY. 181
to that final court of appeal for all good Protest
ants, the sacred text of the Bible. The Quakers
were accordingly regarded as infidels who sought
to deprive Protestantism of its only firm support.
They were wrongly accused of blasphemy in their
treatment of the Scriptures. Cotton Mather says
that the Quakers were in the habit of alluding to
the Bible as the Word of the Devil. Such charges,
from passionate and uncritical enemies, are worth
less except as they serve to explain the bitter
prejudice with which the Quakers were regarded.
They remind one of the silly accusation brought
against Wyclif two centuries earlier, that he
taught his disciples that God ought to obey the
Devil ; 1 and they are not altogether unlike the
assumptions of some modern theologians who take
it for granted that any writer who accepts the
Darwinian theory must be a materialist.
But worthless as Mather's statements are, in
describing the views of the Quakers, they are valu
able as indicating the temper in which these dis
turbers of the Puritan theocracy were regarded.
In accusing them of rejecting the Bible and mak
ing a law unto themselves, Mather simply put on
record a general belief which he shared. Nor can
it be doubted that the demeanour of the Quaker
enthusiasts was sometimes such as to seem to war
rant the belief that their anarchical doctrines en
tailed, as a natural consequence, disor-
. T , Violent mani-
derly and disreputable conduct. In those testations of
ti -i- • n t dissent.
days all manifestations of dissent were
apt to be violent, and the persecution which they
1 Milman, Latin Christianity, vii. 390.

182 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
encountered was likely to call forth strange and
unseemly vagaries. When we remember how the
Quakers, in their scorn of earthly magistrates and
princes, would hoot at the governor as he walked
up the street ; how they used to rush into church
on Sundays and interrupt the sermon with un
timely remarks ; how Thomas Newhouse once
came into the Old South Meeting-House with a
glass bottle in each hand, and, holding them up
before the astonished congregation, knocked them
together and smashed them, with the remark,
" Thus will the Lord break you all in pieces " ;
how Lydia Wardwell and Deborah Wilson ran
about the streets in the primitive costume of Eve
before the fall, and called their conduct " testify
ing before the Lord " ; we can hardly wonder that
people should have been reminded of the wretched
scenes enacted at Munster by the Anabaptists of
the preceding century.
Such incidents, however, do not afford the slight
est excuse for the cruel treatment which the Qua
kers received in Boston, nor do they go far toward
explaining it. Persecution began immediately, be
fore the new-comers had a chance to behave them
selves well or ill. Their mere coming to Boston
was taken as an act of invasion. It was indeed an
attack upon the Puritan theocratic idea. Of all
the sectaries of that age of sects, the Quakers were
the most aggressive. There were at one time more
than four thousand of them in English jails ; yet
when any of them left England, it was less to es
cape persecution than to preach their doctrines far
and wide over the earth. Their missionaries found

THE NEW ENGLAND CONFEDERACY. 183
their way to Paris, to Vienna ; even to Rome, where
they testified under the very roof of the Vatican.
In this dauntless spirit they came to New England
to convert its inhabitants, or at any rate to estab
lish the principle that in whatever community it
might please them to stay, there they would stay
in spite of judge or hangman. At first they came
to Barbadoes, whence two of their num-
a -n t tt Anne Austin
ber, Anne Austin and Mary Fisher, and Mary
, J ' Fisher.
sailed for Boston. When they landed,
on a May morning in 1656, Endicott happened to
be away from Boston, but the deputy-governor,
Richard Bellingham, was equal to the occasion.
He arrested the two women and locked them up
in jail, where, for fear they might proclaim their
heresies to the crowd gathered outside, the win
dows were boarded up. There was no law as yet
enacted against Quakers, but a council summoned
for the occasion pronounced their doctrines blas
phemous and devilish. The books which the poor
women had with them were seized and publicly
burned, and the women themselves were kept in
prison half-starved for five weeks until the ship
they had come in was ready to return to Barbadoes.
Soon after their departure Endicott came home.
He found fault with Bellingham's conduct as too
gentle ; if he had been there he would have had the
hussies flogged.
Five years afterward Mary Fisher went to Adri-
anople and tried to convert the Grand Turk, who
treated her with grave courtesy and allowed her
to prophesy unmolested. This is one of the nu
merous incidents that, on a superficial view of his-

184 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
tory, might be cited in support of the opinion that
there has been on the whole more tolerance in the
Mussulman than in the Christian world. Rightly
interpreted, however, the fact has no such implica
tion. In Massachusetts the preaching of Quaker
doctrines might (and did) lead to a revolution ; in
Turkey it was as harmless as the barking of dogs.
Governor Endicott was afraid of Mary Fisher;
Mahomet III. was not.
No sooner had the two women been shipped
from Boston than eight other Quakers arrived
from London. They were at once arrested. While
they were lying in jail the Federal Commissioners,
then in session at Plymouth, recommended that
laws be forthwith enacted to keep these dreaded
heretics out of the land. Next year they stooped
so far as to seek the aid of Rhode Island, the col
ony which they had refused to admit into their
confederacy. " They sent a letter to the authori
ties of that colony, signing themselves their loving
friends and neighbours, and beseeching them to
preserve the whole body of colonies against ' such
a pest ' by banishing and excluding all Quakers, a
measure to which ' the rule of charity did oblige
them.' " Roger Williams was then president of
« v, j .. Rhode Island, and in full accord with his
Noble conduct '
isiana°de n°ble spirit was the reply of the assembly.
" We have no law amongst us whereby
to punish any for only declaring by words theii
minds and understandings concerning the things
and ways of God as to salvation and our eternal
condition." As for these Quakers we find that
where they are " most of all suffered to declare

THE NEW ENGLAND CONFEDERACY. 185
themselves freely and only opposed by arguments
in discourse, there they least of all desire to come."
Any breach of the civil law shall be punished, but
the " freedom of different consciences shall be re
spected." This reply enraged the confederated
colonies, and Massachusetts, as the strongest and
most overbearing, threatened to cut off the trade
of Rhode Island, which forthwith ap-
/~i m Roger Wil-
pealed to Cromwell for protection. The Hams appeals
L * # to Cromwell.
language of the appeal is as touching as
its broad Christian spirit is grand. It recognizes
that by stopping trade the men of Massachusetts
will injure themselves, yet, it goes on to say, " for
the safeguard of their religion they may seem to
neglect themselves in that respect ; for what will
not men do for their God ? " But whatever for
tune may befall, " let us not be compelled to exer
cise any civil power over men's consciences." 1
There could never, of course, be a doubt as to
who drew up this state paper. During his last
visit to England, three years before, Roger Wil
liams had spent several weeks at Sir Harry Vane's
country house in Lincolnshire, and he had also
been intimately associated with Cromwell and
Milton. The views of these great men were the
most advanced of that age. They were coming to
understand the true principle upon which tolera
tion should be based.2 Vane had said in Parlia
ment, " Why should the labours of any be sup
pressed, if sober, though never so different? We
now profess to seek God, we desire to see light I "
1 Doyle, ii. 133, 134 ; Rhode Island Records, i. 377, 378.
2 See my Excursions of an Evolutionist, pp. 247, 289-293.

186 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
This Williams called a "heavenly speech." The
sentiment it expressed was in accordance with the
practical policy of Cromwell, and in the appeal
of the president of Rhode Island to the Lord
Protector one hears the tone with which friend
speaks to friend.
In thus protecting the Quakers, Williams never
for a moment concealed his antipathy to their
doctrines. The author of " George Fox digged
out of his Burrowes," the sturdy controversialist
who in his seventy-third year rowed himself in a
boat the whole length of Narragansett bay to en
gage in a theological tournament against three
Quaker champions, was animated by nothing less
than the broadest liberalism in his bold reply to
the Federal Commissioners in 1657. The event
showed that under his guidance the policy of
Rhode Island was not only honourable but wise.
The four confederated colonies all pro-
againstthe ceeded to pass laws banishing Quakers
Quakers. and making it a penal offence for ship
masters to bring them to New England. These
laws differed in severity. Those of Connecticut,
in which we may trace the influence of the younger
John Winthrop, were the mildest ; those of Massa
chusetts were the most severe, and as Quakers kept
coming all the more in spite of them, they grew
harsher and harsher. At first the Quaker who
persisted in returning was to be flogged and im
prisoned at hard labour, next his ears were to be
cut off, and for a third offence his tongue was to
be bored with a hot iron. At length in 1658, the
Federal Commissioners, sitting at Boston with

THE NEW ENGLAND CONFEDERACY. 187
Endicott as chairman, recommended capital pun
ishment. It must be borne in mind that the gen
eral reluctance toward prescribing or inflicting the
death penalty was much weaker then T^ae^
than now. On the statute-books there i>enalty-
were not less than fifteen capital crimes, including
such offences as idolatry, witchcraft, blasphemy,
marriage within the Levitical degrees, " presump
tuous sabbath-breaking," and cursing or smiting
one's parents.1 The infliction of the penalty, how
ever, lay practically very much within the discre
tion of the court, and was generally avoided except
in cases of murder or other heinous felony. In
some of these ecclesiastical offences the statute
seems to have served the purpose of a threat, and
was therefore perhaps the more easily enacted.
Yet none of the colonies except Massachusetts
now adopted the suggestion of the Federal Com
missioners and threatened the Quakers with death.
In Massachusetts the opposition was very strong
indeed, and its character shows how wide the di
vergence in sentiment had already become be
tween the upper stratum of society and the people
in general. This divergence was one result of the
excessive weight given to the clergy by the restric
tion of the suffrage to church members. One
might almost say that it was not the people of
Massachusetts, after all, that shed the blood of
the Quakers ; it was Endicott and the clergy. The
bill establishing death as the penalty for returning
after banishment was passed in the upper house
1 Colonial Laws of Massachusetts, pp. 14-16; Levermore's
Republic of New Haven, p. 153.

188 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
without serious difficulty ; but in the lower house
it was at first defeated. Of the twenty-six depu
ties fifteen were opposed to it, but one of these
fell sick and two were intimidated, so that finally
the infamous measure was passed by a vote of
thirteen against twelve. Probably it would not
have passed but for a hopeful feeling that an oc
casion for putting it into execution would not be
likely to arise. It was hoped that the mere threat
would prove effective. Endicott begged the Qua
kers to keep away, saying earnestly that he did not
desire their death ; but the more resolute spirits
were not deterred by fear of the gallows. In
September, 1659, William Robinson, Marniaduke
Stevenson, and Mary Dyer, who had come to
Boston expressly to defy the cruel law, were ban
ished. Mrs. Dyer was a lady of good family, wife
of the secretary of Rhode Island. She had been
an intimate friend of Mrs. Hutchinson. While
she went home to her husband, Stevenson and
Robinson went only to Salem and then faced
about and came back to Boston. Mrs. Dyer also
returned. All three felt themselves under divine
command to resist and defy the persecutors. On
the 27th of October they were led to the gallows
on Boston Common, under escort of a
Executions on
Boston com- hundred soldiers. Many people had
mon. u a. ±
begun to cry shame on such proceed
ings, and it was thought necessary to take precau
tions against a tumult. The victims tried to ad
dress the crowd, but their voices were drowned by
the beating of drums. While the Rev. John Wil
son railed and scoffed at them from the foot of the

THE NEW ENGLAND CONFEDERACY. 189
gallows the two brave men were hanged. The
halter had been placed upon Mrs. Dyer when her
son, who had come in all haste from Rhode Island,
obtained her reprieve on his promise to take her
away. The bodies of the two men were denied
Christian burial and thrown uncovered into a pit.
All the efforts of husband and son were unable to
keep Mrs. Dyer at home. In the following spring
she returned to Boston and on the first day of
June was again taken to the gallows. At the last
moment she was offered freedom if she would only
promise to go away and stay, but she refused. " In
obedience to the will of the Lord I came," said she,
" and in his will I abide faithful unto death." And
so she died.
Public sentiment in Boston was now turning so
strongly against the magistrates that they began
to weaken in their purpose. But there was one
more victim. In November, 1660, William Leddra
returned from banishment. The case was clear
enough, but he was kept in prison four months and
every effort was made to induce him to promise to
leave the colony, but in vain. In the following
March he too was put to death. A few days be
fore the execution, as Leddra was being questioned
in court, a memorable scene occurred. Wenlock
Christison was one of those who had Weni0ck
been banished under penalty of death. aScse°nana
On his return he made straight for the TICtory-
town-house, strode into .the court-room, and with
uplifted finger addressed the judges in words of
authority. "I am come here to warn you," said
he, "that ye shed no more innocent blood." He

190 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
was instantly seized and dragged off to jail. After
three months he was brought to trial before the
Court of Assistants. The magistrates debated for
more than a fortnight as to what should be done.
The air was thick with mutter ings of insurrection,
and they had lost all heart for their dreadful
work. Not so the savage old man who presided,
frowning gloomily under his black skull cap.
Losing his patience at last, Endicott smote the
table with fury, upbraided the judges for their
weakness, and declared himself so disgusted that
he was ready to go back to England.1 " You that
will not consent, record it," he shouted, as the
question was again put to vote, " I thank God I
am not afraid to give judgment." Christison was
condemned to death, but the sentence was never
executed. In the interval the legislature assem
bled, and the law was modified. The martyrs had
not died in vain. Their cause was victorious. A
revolution had been effected. The Puritan ideal
of a commonwealth composed of a united body of
believers was broken down, never again to be re
stored. The principle had been admitted that the
heretic might come to Massachusetts and stay
there. It was not in a moment, however, that these re
sults were fully realized. For some years longer
Quakers were fined, imprisoned, and now and then
tied to the cart's tail and whipped from one town
to another. But these acts of persecution came to
be more and more discountenanced by public opin
ion until at length they ceased.
1 See my remarks above, p. 145.

THE NEW ENGLAND CONFEDERACY. 191
It was on the 25th of May, 1660, just one week
before the martyrdom of Mary Dyer, that Charles
II. returned to England to occupy his father's
throne. One of the first papers laid before him
was a memorial in behalf of the op
pressed Quakers in New England. In Ssive^8'8
the course of the following year he sent
a letter to Endicott and the other New England
governors, ordering them to suspend proceedings
against the Quakers, and if any were then in prison,
to send them to England for trial. Christison's
victory had already been won, but the " King's
Missive " was now partially obeyed by the release
of all prisoners. As for sending anybody to Eng
land for trial, that was something that no New
England government could ever be made to allow.
Charles's defence of the Quakers was due, neither
to liberality of disposition nor to any sympathy
with them, but rather to his inclinations toward
Romanism. Unlike in other respects, Quakers and
Catholics were alike in this, that they were the
only sects which the Protestant world in general
agreed in excluding from toleration, ^yc^^
Charles wished to secure toleration for ^ijrStert'ttle
Catholics, and he could not prudently Quakera-
take steps toward this end without pursuing a
policy broad enough to diminish persecution in
other directions, and from these circumstances the
Quakers profited. At times there was something
almost like a political alliance between Quaker and
Catholic, as instanced in the relations between
William Penn and Charles's brother, the Duke of
York.

192 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
Besides all this, Charles had good reason to feel
that the governments of New England were assum
ing too many airs of sovereignty. There were
plenty of people at hand to work upon his mind.
The friends of Gorton and Child and Vassall were
loud with their complaints. Samuel Maverick
swore that the people of New England were all
rebels, and he could prove it. The king was as
sured that the Confederacy was " a war combina
tion, made by the four colonies when they had a
design to throw off their dependence on England,
and for that purpose." The enemies of the New
England people, while dilating upon the rebellious
disposition of Massachusetts, could also remind the
king that for several years that colony had been
coining and circulating shillings and sixpences with
the name " Massachusetts " and a tree on one side,
and the name " New England " with the date on
the other. There was no recognition of England
upon this coinage, which was begun in 1652 and
kept up for more than thirty years. Such pieces
of money used to be called " pine-tree shillings";
but, so far as looks go, the tree might be anything,
and an adroit friend of New England once gravely
assured the king that it was meant for the royal
oak in which his majesty hid himself after the
battle of Worcester !
Against the colony of New Haven the king had
a special grudge. Two of the regicide judges, who
had sat in the tribunal which condemned his father,
escaped to New England in 1660 and were well re
ceived there. They were gentlemen of high posi
tion. Edward Whalley was a cousin of Cromwell

THE NEW ENGLAND CONFEDERACY. 193
and Hampden. He had distinguished himself at
Naseby and Dunbar, and had risen to the rank of
lieutenant-general. He had commanded at the
The regicide capture of Worcester, where it is inter-
' esting to observe that the royalist com
mander who surrendered to him was Sir Henry
Washington, own cousin to the grandfather of
George Washington. The other regicide, William
Goffe, as a major-general in Cromwell's army, had
won such distinction that there were some who
pointed to him as the proper person to succeed the
Lord Protector on the death of the latter. He had
married Whalley's daughter. Soon after the ar
rival of these gentlemen, a royal order for their
arrest was sent to Boston. If they had been ar
rested and sent back to England, their severed
heads would soon have been placed over Temple
Bar. The king's detectives hotly pursued them
through the woodland paths of New England, and
they would soon have been taken but for the aid
they got from the people. Many are the stories of
their hairbreadth escapes. Sometimes they took
refuge in a cave on a mountain near New Haven,
sometimes they hid in friendly cellars ; and once,
being hard put to it, they skulked under a wooden
bridge, while their pursuers on horseback galloped
by overhead. After lurking about New Haven
and Milford for two or three years, on hearing of
the expected arrival of Colonel Nichols and his
commission, they sought a more secluded hiding-
place near Hadley, a village lately settled far up
the Connecticut river, within the jurisdiction of
Massachusetts. Here the avengers lost the trail,

194 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
the pursuit was abandoned, and the weary regi
cides were presently forgotten. The people of
New Haven had been especially zealous in shield
ing the fugitives. Mr. Davenport had not only
harboured them in his own house, but on the Sab
bath before their expected arrival he had preached
a very bold sermon, openly advising his people to
aid and comfort them as far as possible.1 The
colony, moreover, did not officially recognize the
restoration of Charles II. to the throne until that
event had been commonly known in New England
for more than a year. For these reasons the wrath
of the king was specially roused against New
Haven, when circumstances combined to enable
him at once to punish this disloyal colony and deal
a blow at the Confederacy.
We have seen that in restricting the suffrage
to church members New Haven had followed the
example of Massachusetts, but Connecticut had
1 The daring passage in the sermon is thns given in Bacon's
Historical Discourses, New Haven, 1838 : ' ' Withhold not coun
tenance, entertainment, and protection from the people of God —
whom men may call fools and fanatics — if any such eome to you
from other countries, as from France or England, or any other
place. Be not forgetful to entertain strangers. Remember those
that are in bonds, as bound with them. The Lord required this
of Moab, saying, ' Make thy shadow as the night in the midst of
the noonday ; hide the outcasts ; bewray not him that wandereth.
Let mine outcasts dwell with thee, Moab ; be thou a covert to
them from the face of the spoiler.' Is it objected — 'But so I
may expose myself to be spoiled or troubled ' ? He, therefore, to
remove this objection, addeth, ' For the extortioner is at an end,
the spoiler ceaseth, the oppressors are consumed out of the land.'
While we are attending to our duty in owning and harbouring
Christ's witnesses, God will be providing for their and our
safety, by destroying those that would destroy his people."

THE NEW ENGLAND CONFEDERACY. 195
not ; and at this time there was warm controversy
between the two younger colonies as
to the wisdom of such a policy. As annexedTo11
yet none of the colonies save Massa
chusetts had obtained a charter, and Connecticut
was naturally anxious to obtain one. Whether
through a complaisant spirit connected with this
desire, or through mere accident, Connecticut had
been prompt in acknowledging the restoration of
Charles II. ; and in August, 1661, she dispatched
the younger Winthrop to England to apply for a
charter. Winthrop was a man of winning address
and of wide culture. His scientific tastes were a
passport to the favour of the king at a time when
the Royal Society was being founded, of which
Winthrop himself was soon chosen a fellow. In
every way the occasion was an auspicious one.
The king looked upon the rise of the New England
Confederacy with unfriendly eyes. Massachusetts
was as yet the only member of the league that was
really troublesome; and there seemed to be no
easier way to weaken her than to raise up a rival
power by her side, and extend to it such privileges
as might awaken her jealousy. All the more
would such a policy be likely to succeed if accom
panied by measures of which Massachusetts must
necessarily disapprove, and the suppression of New
Haven would be such a measure.
In accordance with these views, a charter of
great liberality was at once granted to Connecti
cut, and by the same instrument the colony of New
Haven was deprived of its separate existence and
annexed to its stronger neighbour. As if to em-

196 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
phasize the motives which had led to this display
of royal favour toward Connecticut, an equally
liberal charter was granted to Rhode Island. In
the summer of 1664 Charles II. sent a couple of
ships-of-war to Boston harbour, with 400 troops
under command of Colonel Richard Nichols, who
had been appointed, along with Samuel Maverick
and two others as royal commissioners, to look
after the affairs of the New World. Colonel
Nichols took his ships to New Amsterdam, and cap
tured that important town. After his return the
commissioners held meetings at Boston, and for a
time the Massachusetts charter seemed in danger.
But the Puritan magistrates were shrewd, and
months were frittered away to no purpose. Pres
ently the Dutch made war upon England, and the
king felt it to be unwise to irritate the people of
Massachusetts beyond endurance. The turbulent
state of English politics which followed still further
absorbed his attention, and New England had an
other respite of several years.
In New Haven a party had grown up which was
dissatisfied with its extreme theocratic policy and
approved of the union with Connecticut. Daven
port and his followers, the founders of the colony,
were beyond measure disgusted. They spurned
" the Christless rule " of the sister colony. Many
of them took advantage of the recent conquest of
New Netherland, and a strong party, led by the
Rev. Abraham Pierson, of Branford, migrated to
rounding of tne Danks of the Passaic in June, 1667,
Newark. an(j j^ tne foun(Jations of Newark.
For some years to come the theocratic idea that

THE NEW ENGLAND CONFEDERACY. 197
had given birth to New Haven continued to live
on in New Jersey. As for Mr. Davenport, he
went to Boston and ended his days there. Cotton
Mather, writing at a later date, when the theocratic
scheme of the early settlers had been manifestly
outgrown and superseded, says of Davenport :
" Yet, after all, the Lord gave him to see that in
this world a Church-State was impossible, where-
into there enters nothing which defiles."
The theocratic policy, alike in New Haven and
in Massachusetts, broke down largely through its
inherent weakness. It divided the community,
and created among the people a party Breakm
adverse to its arrogance and exclusive- theocratic1*8
ness. This state of things facilitated poUcy"
the suppression of New Haven by royal edict, and
it made possible the victory of Wenlock Christison
in Massachusetts. We can now see the funda
mental explanation of the deadly hostility with
which Endicott and his party regarded the Qua
kers. The latter aimed a fatal blow at the very
root of the idea which had brought the Puritans to
New England. Once admit these heretics as citi
zens, or even as tolerated sojourners, and there
was an end of the theocratic state consisting of a
united body of believers. It was a life-and-death
struggle, in which no quarter was given ; and the
Quakers, aided by popular discontent with the
theocracy, even more than by the intervention of
the crown, won a decisive victory.
As the work of planting New England took
place chiefly in the eleven years 1629-1640, dur
ing which Charles I. contrived to reign without a

198 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
parliament, so the prosperous period of the New
England Confederacy, 1643-1664, cov-
tne confeder- ers the time of the Civil War and the
Commonwealth, and just laps on to the
reign of Charles II. By the summary extinction
of the separate existence of one of its members for
the benefit of another, its vigour was sadly im
paired. But its constitution was revised so as to
make it a league of three states iustead of four ;
and the Federal Commissioners kept on holding
their meetings, though less frequently, until the
revocation of the Massachusetts charter in 1684.
During this period a great Indian war occurred, in
the course of which this concentration of the mili
tary strength of New England, imperfect as it was,
proved itself very useful. In the history of New
England, from the restoration of the Stuarts until
their final expulsion, the two most important facts
are the military struggle of the newly founded
states with the Indians, and their constitutional
struggle against the British government. The
troubles and dangers of 1636 were renewed on a
much more formidable scale, but the strength of
the people had waxed greatly in the mean time, and
the new perils were boldly overcome or skilfully
warded off ; not, however, until the constitution of
Massachusetts had been violently wrenched out of
shape in the struggle, and seeds of conflict sown
which in the following century were to bear fruit
in the American Revolution.

CHAPTER V.
king philip's war.
For eight-and-thirty years after the destruction
of the Pequots, the intercourse between the Eng
lish and the Indians was to all outward appear
ance friendly. The policy pursued by the settlers
was in the main well considered. While they had
shown that they could strike with terrible force
when blows were needed, their treatment of the
natives in time of peace seems to have puritan3and
been generally just and kind. Except Indlaiis-
in the single case of the conquered Pequot terri
tory, they scrupulously paid for every rood of
ground on which they settled, and so far as possi
ble they extended to the Indians the protection of
the law. On these points we have the explicit
testimony of Josiah Winslow, governor of Plym
outh, in his report to the Federal Commissioners
in May, 1676 ; and what he says about Plymouth
seems to have been equally true of the other colo
nies. Says Winslow, " I think I can clearly say
that before these present troubles broke out, the
English did not possess one foot of land in this
colony but what was fairly obtained by honest
purchase of the Indian proprietors. Nay, because
some of our people are of a covetous disposition,
and the Indians are in their straits easily pre

200 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND-
vailed with to part with their lands, we first made
a law that none should purchase or receive of gift
any land of the Indians without the knowledge
and allowance of our Court. . . . And if at any
time they have brought complaints before us, they
have had justice impartial and speedy, so that our
own people have frequently complained that we
erred on the other hand in showing them overmuch
favour." The general laws of Massachusetts and
Connecticut as well as of Plymouth bear out what
Winslow says, and show us that as a matter of
policy the colonial governments were fully sensible
of the importance of avoiding all occasions for
quarrel with their savage neighbours.
There can, moreover, be little doubt that the
material comfort of the Indians was for a time
considerably improved by their dealings with the
white men. Hitherto their want of foresight and
thrift had been wont to involve them during the
long winters in a dreadful struggle with famine.
Now the settlers were ready to pay liberally for
the skin of every fur-covered animal the red men
Trade with could catch ; and where the trade thus
the Indians. arising di(J not suffice to keep Qg fam_
ine, instances of generous charity were frequent.
The Algonquin tribes of New England lived
chiefly by hunting, but partly by agriculture.
They raised beans and corn, and succotash was a
dish which they contributed to the white man's
table. They could now raise or buy English vege
tables, while from dogs and horses, pigs and poul
try, oxen and sheep, little as they could avail
themselves of such useful animals, they neverthe-

KING PHILIP'S WAR. 201
less derived some benefit.1 Better blankets and
better knives were brought within their reach ;
and in spite of all the colonial governments could
do to prevent it, they were to some extent enabled
to supply themselves with muskets and rum.
Besides all this trade, which, except in the article
of liquor, tended to improve the condition of the
native tribes, there was on the part of the earlier
settlers an earnest and diligent effort to convert
them to Christianity and give them the rudiments
of a civilized education. Missionary
. ™ Missionary
work was begun in 1643 by Thomas work : Thomas
° . J Mayhew.
Mayhew on the islands of Nantucket
and Martha's Vineyard. The savages at first de
clared they were not so silly as to barter thirty-
seven tutelar deities for one, but after much
preaching and many pow-wows Mayhew succeeded
in persuading them that the Deity of the white man
was mightier than all their manitous. Whether
they ever got much farther than this toward a
comprehension of the white man's religion may be
doubted ; but they were prevailed upon to let their
children learn to read and write, and even to set
up little courts, in which justice was administered
according to some of the simplest rules of English
law, and from which there lay an appeal to the
court of Plymouth. In 1646 Massachusetts en
acted that the elders of the churches should choose
two persons each year to go and spread the gospel
among the Indians. In 1649 Parliament estab
lished the Society for propagating the Gospel in
New England, and presently from voluntary con-
1 Palfrey, History ofNevj England, iii. 138-140.

202 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
tributions the society was able to dispose of an
annual income of £2000. Schools were set up in
which agriculture was taught as well as religion.
It was even intended that Indians should go to
Harvard College, and a building was erected for
their accommodation, but as none came to occupy
it, the college printing-press was presently set to
work there. One solitary Indian student after
ward succeeded in climbing to the bachelor's de
gree, — Caleb Cheeshahteaumuck of the class of
1665. It was this one success that was marvellous,
not the failure of the scheme, which vividly shows
how difficult it was for the white man of that day
to understand the limitations of the red man.
The greatest measure of success in converting
the Indians was attained by that famous linguist
and preacher, the apostle John Eliot.
John Eliot. x i
This remarkable man was a graduate
of Jesus College, Cambridge. He had come to
Massachusetts in 1631, and in the following year
had been settled as teacher in the church at Rox
bury of which Thomas Welde was pastor. He had
been distinguished at the university for philolog
ical scholarship and for linguistic talent — two
things not always found in connection — and now
during fourteen years he devoted such time as he
could to acquiring a complete mastery of the Al
gonquin dialect spoken by the Indians of Massa
chusetts bay. To the modern comparative philolo
gist his work is of great value. He published not
only an excellent Indian grammar, but a complete
translation of the Bible into the Massachusetts
language, — a monument of prodigious labour. It

KING PHILIP'S WAR. 203
is one of the most instructive documents in exist
ence for the student of Algonquin speech, though
the Massachusetts tribe and its language have long
been extinct, and there are very few scholars living
who can read the book. It has become one of the
curiosities of literature and at auction sales of pri
vate libraries commands an extremely high price.
Yet out of this rare book the American public has
somehow or other within the last five or six years
contrived to pick up a word which we shall very
likely continue to hear for some time to come. In
Eliot's Bible, the word which means a great chief
— such as Joshua, or Gideon, or Joab — is " mug
wump." It was in 1646 that Eliot began his missionary
preaching at a small Indian village near Water-
town. President Dunster, of Harvard College,
and Mr. Shepard, the minister at Cambridge, felt
a warm interest in the undertaking. These worthy
men seriously believed that the aborigines of Amer
ica were the degenerate descendants of the ten lost
tribes of Israel, and from this strange backsliding
it was hoped that they might now be reclaimed.
With rare eloquence and skill did Eliot devote
himself to the difficult work of reaching the Indi
an's scanty intelligence and still scantier moral
sense. His ministrations reached from the sands
of Cape Cod to the rocky hillsides of Brookfield.
But he soon found that single-handed he could
achieve but little over so wide an area,
tit -i ii i- Villages of
and accordingly he adopted the policy christian in-
of colonizing his converts in village
communities near the English towns, where they

204 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
might be sequestered from their heathen brethren
and subjected to none but Christian influences. In
these communities he hoped to train up native mis
sionaries who might thence go and labour among
the wild tribes until the whole lump of barbarism
should be leavened. In pursuance of this scheme
a stockaded village was built at Natick in 1651.
Under the direction of an English carpenter the
Indians built log-houses for themselves, and most
of them adopted the English dress. Their simple
government was administered by tithing-men, or
" rulers of tens," chosen after methods prescribed
in the book of Exodus. Other such communities
were formed in the neighbourhoods of Concord and
Grafton. By 1674 the number of these "praying
Indians," as they were called, was estimated at
4000, of whom about 1500 were in Eliot's villages,
as many more in Martha's Vineyard, 300 in Nan
tucket, and 700 in the Plymouth colony. There
seems to be no doubt that these Indians were really
benefited both materially and morally by the
change in their life. In theology it is not likely
that they reached any higher view than that ex
pressed by the Connecticut sachem Wequash who
" seeing and beholding the mighty power of God
in the English forces, how they fell upon the Pe
quots, . . . from that time was convinced and per
suaded that our God was a most dreadful God ; "
accordingly, says the author of "New England's
First Fruits," "he became thoroughly reformed
according to his light." Matters of outward observ
ance, too, the Indians could understand ; for we
read of one of them rebuking an Englishman " for

KING PHILIP'S WAR. 205
profaning the Lord's Day by felling of a tree."
The Indian's notions of religion were probably
confined within this narrow compass ; the notions
of some people that call themselves civilized per
haps do not extend much further.
From such facts as those above cited we may in
fer that the early relations of the Puritan settlers
to the Algonquin tribes of New England were by
no means like the relations between white men and
red men in recent times on our western plains.
During Philip's War, as we shall see, the Puritan
theory of the situation was entirely changed and
our forefathers began to act in accordance with the
frontiersman's doctrine that the good Indians are
dead Indians. But down to that time it is clear
that his intention was to deal honourably and
gently with his tawny neighbour. We sometimes
hear the justice and kindness of the Quakers in
Pennsylvania alleged as an adequate reason for the
success with which they kept clear of an Indian
war. This explanation, however, does not seem to
be adequate ; it does not appear that, on the
whole, the Puritans were less just and kind than
the Quakers in their treatment of the red men.
The true explanation is rather to be found in the
relations between the Indian tribes toward the
close of the seventeenth century. Early in that
century the Pennsylvania region had been in the
hands of the ferocious and powerful
Susquehannocks, but in 1672, after a vaniawasso
frightful struggle of twenty years, this lested by the
c ii r c Indians.
great tribe was swept from the face oi
the earth by the resistless league of the Five Na-

206 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
tions. When the Quakers came to Pennsylvania in
1682, the only Indians in that neighbourhood were
the Delawares, who had just been terribly beaten
by the Five Nations and forced into a treaty by
which they submitted to be called " women," and
to surrender their tomahawks. Penn's famous
treaty was made with the Delawares as occupants
of the land and also with the Iroquois league as
overlords.1 Now the great central fact of early
American history, so far as the relations between
white men and red men are concerned, is the un
shaken friendship of the Iroquois for the English.
This was the natural consequence of the deadly
hostility between the Iroquois and the French
which began with Champlain's defeat of the Mo
hawks in 1609. During the seventy-three years
which intervened between the founding of Pennsyl
vania and the defeat of Braddock there was never
a moment when the Delawares could have attacked
the Quakers without incurring the wrath and ven
geance of their overlords the Five Nations. This
o was the reason why Pennsylvania was left so long
in quiet. No better proof could be desired than
the fact that in Pontiac's war, after the overthrow
of the French and when Indian politics had
changed, no state suffered so much as Pennsylvania
from the horrors of Indian warfare.
In New England at the time of Philip's War,
the situation was very different from what it was
between the Hudson and the Susquehanna. The
settlers were thrown into immediate relations with
several tribes whose mutual hostility and rivalry
1 See Parkman, Conspiracy of Pontiac, i. 80-85.

KING PHILIP'S WAR. 207
was such that it was simply impossible to keep on
good terms with all at once. Such complicated
questions as that which involved the English in
responsibility for the fate of Miantonomo did not
arise in Pennsylvania. Since the destruction of
the Pequots we have observed the Narragansetts
and Mohegans contending for the foremost place
among New England tribes. Of the two rivals
the Mohegans were the weaker, and therefore
courted the friendship of the formidable pale
faces. The English had no desire to take part in
these barbarous feuds, but they could
not treat the Mohegans well without in- Stuation
curring the hostility of the Narragan- landfwBng"
setts. For thirty years the feeling of
the latter tribe toward the English had been very
unfriendly and would doubtless have vented itself
in murder but for their recollection of the fate of
the Pequots. After the loss of their chief Mian
tonomo their attitude became so sullen and defiant
that the Federal Commissioners, in order to be in
readiness for an outbreak, collected a force of 300
men. At the first news of these preparations the
Narragansetts, overcome with terror, sent a liberal
tribute of wampum to Boston, and were fain to
conclude a treaty in which they promised to behave
themselves well in the future.
It was impossible that this sort of English pro
tectorate over the native tribes, which was an
inevitable result of the situation, should be other
than irksome and irritating to the Indians. They
could not but see that the white man stood there
as master, and even in the utter absence of provo-

208 THE BEGINNINGS OF NE W ENGLAND.
cation, this fact alone must have made them hate
him. It is difficult, moreover, for the civilized
man and the savage to understand each other. As
a rule the one does not know what the other is
thinking about. When Mr. Hamilton Cushing a
few years ago took some of his Zuiii friends into
a hotel in Chicago, they marvelled at
It is hard for & ' . J
the savage and hjs entering: such a mighty palace with
the civilized ° ° ^ -1
man to under- s0 little ceremony, and their wonder was
stand one an- J
other. heightened at the promptness with which
" slaves " came running at his beck and call ; but
all at once, on seeing an American eagle over one
of the doorways, they felt that the mystery was
solved. Evidently this palace was the communal
dwelling of the Eagle Clan of palefaces, and evi
dently Mr. Cushing was a great sachem of this
clan, and as such entitled to lordly sway there !
The Zufiis are not savages, but representatives of a
remote and primitive phase of what Mr. Morgan
calls the middle status of barbarism. The gulf be
tween their thinking and that of white men is wide
because there is a wide gulf between the experi
ence of the two.
This illustration may help us to understand an
instance in which the Indians of New England
must inevitably have misinterpreted the actions of
the white settlers and read them in the light of
their uneasy fears and prejudices. I refer to the
work of the apostle Eliot. His design in founding
his villages of Christian Indians was in the highest
degree benevolent and noble ; but the heathen In
dians could hardly be expected to see anything in
it but a cunning scheme for destroying them.

KING PHILIP'S WAR. 209
Eliot's converts were for the most part from the
Massachusetts tribe, the smallest and weakest of
all. The Plymouth converts came chiefly from the
tribe next in weakness, the Pokanokets or Wam
panoags. The more powerful tribes — Narragan-
setts, Nipmucks, and Mohegans — furnished very
few converts. When they saw the white intruders
gathering members of the weakest tribes into vil
lages of English type, and teaching them strange
gods while clothing them in strange garments,
they probably supposed that the pale-
. • 1 -i • it Eliot'B de"
taces were simply adopting these In- signs misun-
.... ., derstood.
dians into their white tribe as a means
of increasing their military strength. At any rate,
such a proceeding would be perfectly intelligible
to the savage mind, whereas the nature of Eliot's
design lay quite beyond its ken. As the Indians
recovered from their supernatural dread of the
English, and began to regard them as using human
means to accomplish their ends, they must of course
interpret their conduct in such light as savage ex
perience could afford. It is one of the commonest
things in the world for a savage tribe to absorb
weak neighbours by adoption, and thus increase its
force preparatory to a deadly assault upon other
neighbours. When Eliot in 1657 preached to the
little tribe of Podunks near Hartford, and asked
them if they were willing to accept of Jesus Christ
as their saviour, their old men scornfully answered
No ! they had parted with most of their land, but
they were not going to become the white man's ser
vants. A rebuke administered to Eliot by Uncas
in 1674 has a similar implication. When the

210 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
apostle was preaching one evening in a village
over which that sachem claimed jurisdiction, an
Indian arose and announced himself as a deputy
of Uncas. Then he said, " Uncas is not well
pleased that the English should pass over Mohe
gan river to call his Indians to pray to God." 1
Thus, no matter how benevolent the white man's
intentions, he could not fail to be dreaded by the
Indians as a powerful and ever encroaching enemy.
Even in his efforts to keep the peace
It is remark- l • l
abiethatpeace and prevent tribes from taking the war-
should have . , :r
been so long path Without hlS permission, he Was in-
preserved. . I'll
terfering with the red man s cherished
pastime of murder and pillage. The appeals to
the court at Plymouth, the frequent summoning
of sachems to Boston, to explain their affairs and
justify themselves against accusers, must have
been maddening in their effects upon the Indian ;
for there is one sound instinct which the savage
has in common with the most progressive races,
and that is the love of self-government that resents
all outside interference. All things considered, it
is remarkable that peace should have been main
tained in New England from 1637 to 1675 ; and
probably nothing short of the consuming ven
geance wrought upon the Pequots could have done
it. But with the lapse of time the wholesome
feeling of dread began to fade away, and as the
Indians came to use musket instead of bow and
arrow, their fear of the English grew less, until at
length their ferocious temper broke forth in an
1 De Forest, History of the Indians of Connecticut, pp. 252, 257.

KING PHILIP'S WAR. 211
epidemic of fire and slaughter that laid waste the
land. Massasoit, chief sachem of the Wampanoags and
steadfast ally of the Plymouth colonists, died in
1660, leaving two sons, Wamsutta and Metacom,
or as the English nicknamed them, Alexander and
Philip. Alexander succeeded to his father's posi
tion of savage dignity and influence, but
, . . i • i. -n Deaths of
his reign was brief. Humours came to Massasoit and
Plymouth that he was plotting mischief,
and he was accordingly summoned to appear be
fore the General Court of that colony and explain
himself. He seems to have gone reluctantly, but
he succeeded in satisfying the magistrates of his
innocence of any evil designs. Whether he caught
cold at Plymouth or drank rum as only Indians
can, we do not know. At any rate, on starting
homeward, before he had got clear of English ter
ritory, he was seized by a violent fever and died.
The savage mind knows nothing of pneumonia or
delirium tremens. It knows nothing of what we
call natural death. To the savage all death means
murder, for like other men he judges of the un
known by the known. In the Indian's experience
normal death was by tomahawk or firebrand ; ab
normal death (such as we call natural) must come
either from poison or from witchcraft. So when
the honest chronicler Hubbard tells us that Philip
suspected the Plymouth people of poisoning his
brother, we can easily believe him. It was long,
however, before he was ready to taste the sweets of
revenge. He schemed and plotted in the dark.
In one respect the Indian diplomatist is unlike

212 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
his white brethren ; he does not leave state-papers
Philip's de- behind him to reward the diligence and
signs. gratify the curiosity of later genera
tions; and accordingly it is hard to tell how far
Philip was personally responsible for the storm
which was presently to burst upon New England.
Whether his scheme was as comprehensive as that
of Pontiac in 1763, whether or not it amounted to
a deliberate combination of all red men within
reach to exterminate the white men, one can
hardly say with confidence. The figure of Philip,
in the war which bears his name, does not stand
out so prominently as the figure of Pontiac in the
later struggle. This may be partly because Pon
tiac's story has been told by such a magician as
Mr. Francis Parkman. But it is partly because
the data are too meagre. In all probability, how
ever, the schemes of Sassacus the Pequot, of Philip
the Wampanoag, and of Pontiac the Ottawa, were
substantially the same. That Philip plotted with
the Narragansetts seems certain, and the early
events of the war point clearly to a previous un
derstanding with the Nipmucks. The Mohegans,
on the other hand, gave him no assistance, but
remained faithful to their white allies.
For thirteen years had Philip been chief sachem
of his tribe before the crisis came. Rumours of
his unfriendly disposition had at intervals found
their way to the ears of the magistrates at Plym
outh, but Philip had succeeded in setting himself
right before them. In 1670 the rumours were
renewed, and the Plymouth men felt that it was
time to strike, but the other colonies held them

KING PHILIP'S WAR. 213
back, and a meeting was arranged between Philip
and three Boston men at Taunton in Meeth)gat
April, 1671. There the crafty savage Taunton-
expressed humility and contrition for all past
offences, and even consented to a treaty in which
he promised that his tribe should surrender all
their fire-arms. On the part of the English this
was an extremely unwise measure, for while it
could not possibly be enforced, and while it must
have greatly increased the irritation of the Indians,
it was at the same time interpretable as a symptom
of fear. With ominous scowls and grunts some
seventy muskets were given up, but this was all.
Through the summer there was much uneasiness,
and in September Philip was summoned to Plym
outh with five of his under-sachems, and solemnly
warned to keep the peace. The savages again be
haved with humility and agreed to pay a yearly
tribute of five wolves' heads and to do no act of
war without express permission.
For three years things seemed quiet, until late
in 1674 the alarm was again sounded. Sausamon,
a convert from the Massachusetts tribe, had studied
a little at Harvard College, and could speak and
write English with facility. He had at one time
been employed by Philip as a sort of private secre
tary or messenger, and at other times had preached
and taught school among the Indian converts at
Natick. Sausamon now came to Plymouth and
informed Governor Winslow that Philip was cer
tainly engaged in a conspiracy that boded no good
to the English. Somehow or other Philip con
trived to find out what Sausamon had said, and

214 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
presently coming to Plymouth loudly asseverated
his innocence ; but the magistrates warned him
that if they heard any more of this sort of thing
Murder of nls arms would surely be seized. A few
Sausamon. j^g af ter Philip had gone home, Sausa-
mon's hat and gun were seen lying on the frozen
surface of Assowamsett Pond, near Middleborough,
and on cutting through the ice his body was found
with unmistakable marks of beating and stran
gling. After some months the crime was traced to
three Wampanoags, who were forthwith arrested,
tried by a mixed jury of Indians and white men,
found guilty, and put to death. On the way to
the gallows one of them confessed that he had
stood by while his two friends had pounded and
choked the unfortunate Sausamon.
More alarming reports now came from Swanzey,
a pretty village of some forty houses not far from
Philip's headquarters at Mount Hope. On Sun
day June 20, while everybody was at church, a
party of Indians had stolen into the town and set
fire to two houses. Messengers were hurried from
Plymouth and from Boston, to demand the culprits
under penalty of instant war. As they approached
Massacres at Swanzey the men from Boston saw a
Dlrtmoutif sight that filled them with horror. The
June, 1675. roa(j wag strewn with corpses of men,
women, and children, scorched, dismembered, and
mangled with that devilish art of which the
American Indian is the most finished master.
The savages had sacked fhe village the day be
fore, burning the houses and slaying the people.
Within three days a small force of colonial troops

KING PHILIP'S WAR. 215
had driven Philip from his position at Mount
Hope ; but while they were doing this a party of
savages swooped upon Dartmouth, burning thirty
houses and committing fearful atrocities. Some
of their victims were flayed alive, or impaled on
sharp stakes, or roasted over slow fires. Similar
horrors were wrought at Middleborough and Taun
ton ; and now the misery spread to Massachusetts,
where on the 14th of July the town of Mendon was
attacked by a party of Nipmucks.
At that time the beautiful highlands between
Lancaster and the Connecticut river were still an
untrodden wilderness. On their southern slope
Worcester and Brookfield were tiny hamlets of a
dozen houses each. Up the Connecticut valley a
line of little villages, from Springfield to North-
field, formed the remotest frontier of the English,
and their exposed position offered tempting oppor
tunities to the Indians. Governor Leverett saw
how great the danger would be if the other tribes
should follow the example set by Philip, and Cap
tain Edward Hutchinson was accord- • Murder of
ingly sent to Brookfield to negotiate captain
. J . . Hutchinson.
with the Nipmucks. This officer was
eldest son of the unfortunate lady whose preaching
in Boston nearly forty years before had been the
occasion of so much strife. Not only his mother,
but all save one or two of his brothers and sisters
— and there were not less than twelve of them —
had been murdered by Indians on the New Nether-
land border in 1643 ; now the same cruel fate over
took the gallant captain. The savages agreed to
hold a parley and appointed a time and place for

216 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
the purpose, but instead of keeping tryst they lay
in ambush and slew Hutchinson with eight of his
men on their way to the conference.
Three days afterward Philip, who had found
home too hot for him, arrived in the Nipmuck
country, and on the night of August 2, took part
in a fierce assault on Brookfield. Thirty or forty
men, with some fifty women and children — all
. „ . the inhabitants of the hamlet — took
Attack on
Brookfield. refuge in a large house, where they were
besieged by 300 savages whose bullets pierced the
wooden walls again and again. Arrows tipped
with burning rags were shot into the air in such
wise as to fall upon the roof, but they who crouched
in the garret were watchful and well supplied with
water, while from the overhanging windows the
volleys of musketry were so brisk and steady that
the screaming savages below could not get near
enough to the house to set it on fire. For three
days the fight was kept up, while every other house
in the village was destroyed. By this time the In
dians had contrived to mount some planks on bar
rels so as to make a kind of rude cart which they
loaded with tow and chips. They were just about
setting it on fire and preparing to push it against
the house with long poles, when thoy were sud
denly foiled by a heavy shower. That noon the
gallant Simon Willard, ancestor of two presidents
of Harvard College, a man who had done so much
toward building up Concord and Lancaster that he
was known as the " founder of towns," was on his
way from Lancaster to Groton at the head of
forty-seven horsemen, when he was overtaken by a

KING PHILIP'S WAR. 217
courier with the news from Brookfield. The dis
tance was thirty miles, the road scarcely fit to be
called a bridle-path, and Willard's years were more
than threescore-and-ten ; but by an hour after sun
set he had gallopped into Brookfield and routed
the Indians who fled to a swamp ten miles distant.
The scene is now shifted to the Connecticut val
ley, where on the 25th of August Captain Lothrop
defeated the savages at Hatfield. On the 1st of
September simultaneous attacks were made upon
Deerfield and Hadley, and among the traditions of
the latter place is one of the most interesting of
the stories of that early time. The inhabitants
were all in church keeping a fast, when the yells
of the Indians resounded. Seizing their
guns, the men rushed out to meet the ous stranger
foe ; but seeing the village green swarm
ing on every side with the horrid savages, for a
moment their courage gave way and a panic was
imminent ; when all at once a stranger of reverend
aspect and stately form, with white beard flowing
on his bosom, appeared among them and took
command with an air of authority which none
could gainsay. He bade them charge on the
screeching rabble, and after a short sharp skir
mish the tawny foe was put to flight. When the
pursuers came together again, after the excitement
of the rout, their deliverer was not to be found.
In their wonder, as they knew not whence he came
or whither he had gone, many were heard to say
that an angel had been sent from heaven for their
deliverance. It was the regicide William Goffe,
who from his hiding-place had seen the savages

218 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
stealing clown the hillside, and sallied forth to win
yet one more victory over the hosts of Midian ere
death should come to claim him in his woodland
retreat. Sir Walter Scott has put this pretty
story into the mouth of Major Bridgenorth in
" Peveril of the Peak," and Cooper has made use
of it in "The Wept of Wish-ton-wish." Like
many other romantic stories, it rests upon insuffi
cient authority and its truth has been called in
question.1 But there seems to be nothing intrinsi
cally improbable in the tradition ; and a paramount
regard for Goffe's personal safety would quite ac-
1 The story rests chiefly upon the statements of Hutchinson,
an extremely careful and judicious writer, and not in the least
what the French call a gobemouche. Goffe kept a diary which
came into Hutchinson's possession, and was one of the priceless
manuscripts that perished in the infamous sacking of his house
by the Boston mob of August 26, 1765. What light that diary
might have thrown upon the matter can never be known.
Hutchinson was born in 1711, only thirty-six years after the
event, so that his testimony is not so very far removed from that
of a contemporary. Whalley seems to have died in Hadley
shortly before 1675, and Goffe deemed it prudent to leave that
neighbourhood in 1676. His letters to Increase Mather are dated
from "Ebenezer," i. e., wherever in his roamings he set up his
Ebenezer. One of these letters, dated September 8, 1676, shows
that his Ebenezer was then set up in Hartford, where probably
he died about 1679. In 1676 the arrival of Edward Randolph
(see below, p. 256) renewed the peril of the regicide judge, and his
sudden removal from his skilfully contrived hiding-place at Had
ley might possibly have been due to his having exposed himself
to recognition in the Indian fight. Possibly even the super
natural explanation might have been started, with a touch of
Yankee humour, as a blind. The silence of Mather and Hubbard
was no more remarkable than some of the other ingenious inci
dents which had so long served to conceal the existence of this
sturdy and crafty man. The reasons for doubting the story are
best stated by Mr. George Sheldon of Deerfield, in Hist.-Genealog-
ical Register, October, 1874.

KING PHILIP'S WAR. 219
count for the studied silence of contemporary
writers like Hubbard and Increase Mather.
This repulse did not check for a moment the
activity of the Indians, though for a long time we
hear nothing more of Philip. On the 2d of Sep
tember they slew eight men at Northfield and on
the 4th they surrounded and butchered Captain
Beers and most of his company of thirty-six march
ing to the relief of that village. The next day but
one, as Major Robert Treat came up the road with
his 100 Connecticut soldiers, they found long poles
planted by the wayside bearing the heads of their
unfortunate comrades. They in turn were as
saulted, but beat off the enemy, and brought away
the people of Northfield. That village was aban
doned, and presently Deerfield shared
. » i . t i ii Ambuscade at
its fate and the people were crowded Bloody Brook,
into Hadley. Yet worse remained to be
seen. A large quantity of wheat had been left
partly threshed at Deerfield, and on the 11th of
September eighteen wagons were sent up with
teamsters and farmers to finish the threshing and
bring in the grain. They were escorted by Cap
tain Lothrop, with his train-band of ninety picked
men, known as the " Flower of Essex," perhaps
the best drilled company in the colony. The
threshing was done, the wagons were loaded,- and
the party made a night march southward. At
seven in the morning, as they were fording a shal
low stream in the shade of overarching woods, they
were suddenly overwhelmed by the deadly fire of
700 ambushed Nipmucks, and only eight of them
escaped to tell the tale. A " black and fatal " day

220 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
was this, says the chronicler, " the saddest that
ever befell New England." To this day the mem
ory of the slaughter at Bloody Brook survives, and
the visitor to South Deerfield may read the inscrip
tion over the grave in which Major Treat's men
next day buried all the victims together. The In
dians now began to feel their power, and on the
5th of October they attacked Springfield and
burned thirty houses there.
Things were becoming desperate. For ten
weeks, from September 9 to November 19, the
Federal Commissioners were in session daily in
Boston. The most eminent of their number, for
ability and character, was the younger John Win
throp, who was still governor of Connecticut.
Plymouth was represented by its governor, Josiah
Winslow, with the younger William Bradford ;
Massachusetts by William Stoughton, Simon
Bradstreet, and Thomas Danforth. These strong
men were confronted with a difficult problem.
From Batten's journal, kept during that disastrous
summer, we learn the state of feeling
citement in in Boston. The Puritans had by no
Boston. . J
means got rid of that sense of corporate
responsibility which civilized man has inherited
from prehistoric ages, and which has been one of
the principal causes of religious persecution. This
sombre feeling has prompted men to believe that
to spare the heretic is to bring down the wrath of
God upon the whole community ; and now in Bos
ton many people stoutly maintained that God had
let loose the savages, with firebrand and tomahawk,
to punish the people of New England for ceasing

KING PHILIP'S WAR. 221
to persecute "false worshippers and especially
idolatrous Quakers." Quaker meetings were ac
cordingly forbidden under penalty of fine and im
prisonment. Some harmless Indians were mur
dered. At Marblehead two were assaulted and
killed by a crowd of women. There was a bitter
feeling toward the Christian Indians, many of
whom had joined their heathen kinsmen in burn
ing and slaying. Daniel Gookin, superintendent
of the " praying Indians," a gentleman of the
highest character, was told that it would not be
safe to show himself in the streets of Boston.
Mrs. Mary Pray, of Providence, wrote a letter
recommending the total extermination of the red
men. The measures adopted by the Commissioners
certainly went far toward carrying out Mrs. Pray's
suggestion. The demeanour of the Narragansetts
had become very threatening, and their capacity
for mischief exceeded that of all the other tribes
together. In July the Commissioners had made a
treaty with them, but in October it became known
in Boston that they were harbouring some of
Philip's hostile Indians. When the Commission
ers sharply called them to account for this, their
sachem Canonchet, son of Miantonomo, promised
to surrender the fugitives within ten days. But
the ten days passed and nothing was heard from
the Narragansetts. The victory of their brethren
at Bloody Brook had worked upon their minds, so
that they no longer thought it worth while to keep
faith with the white men. They had overcome
their timidity and were now ready to take part in

222 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
the work of massacre.1 The Commissioners soon
learned of their warlike preparations and lost no
time in forestalling them. The Narragansetts were
fairly warned that if they did not at once fulfil
their promises they must expect the utmost sever
ities of war. A thousand men were enlisted for
this service and put under command of Governor
Winslow, and in December they marched against
the enemy. The redoubtable fighter and lively
chronicler Benjamin Church accompanied the ex
pedition. The Indians had fortified themselves on a piece
of rising ground, six acres in extent, in
Expeditionagainst the the middle of a hideous swamp lmpass-
Narragansetts. , , , .
able at most seasons but now in some
places frozen hard enough to afford a precarious
footing. They were surrounded by rows of tall
palisades which formed a wall twelve feet in thick
ness ; and the only approach to the single door of
this stronghold was over the trunk of a felled tree
some two feet in diameter and slippery with snow
and ice. A stout block-house filled with sharp
shooters guarded this rude bridge, which was raised
some five feet from the ground. Within the pali-
sadoed fortress perhaps not less than 2000 war-
1 If Philip was half the diplomatist that he is represented in
tradition, he never would have gone into such a war without assur
ance of Narragansett help. Canonchet was a far more powerful
sachem than Philip, and played a more conspicuous part in the
war. May we not suppose that Canonchet' s desire to avenge his
father's death was one of the principal incentives to the war ;
that Philip's attack upon Swanzey was a premature explosion ;
and that Canonchet then watched the course of events for a while
before making up his mind whether to abandon Philip or support
him?

KING PHILIP'S WAR. 223
riors, with many women and children, awaited the
onset of the white men, for here had Canonchet
gathered together nearly the whole of his available
force. This was a military mistake. It was coop
ing up his men for slaughter. They would have
been much safer if scattered about in the wilder
ness, and could have given the English much more
trouble. But readily as they acknowledged the
power of the white man, they did not yet under
stand it. One man's courage is not another's, and
the Indian knew little or nothing of that Gothic
fury of self-abandonment which rushes straight
ahead and snatches victory from the jaws of death.
His fortress was a strong one, and it was no longer,
as in the time of the Pequots, a strife in which fire
arms were pitted against bow and arrow. Many of
the Narragansetts were equipped with muskets and
skilled in their use, and under such circumstances
victory for the English was not to be lightly won.
On the night of December 18 their little army
slept in an open field at Pettyquamscott without
other blanket than a " moist fleece of snow."
Thence to the Indian fortress, situated in what is
now South Kingston, the march was eighteen
miles. The morrow was a Sunday, but Winslow
deemed it imprudent to wait, as food had wellnigh
given out. Getting up at five o'clock, they toiled
through deep snow till they came within sight of
the Narragansett stronghold early in the afternoon.
First came the 527 men from Massachusetts, led
by Major Appleton, of Ipswich, and next the 158
from Plymouth, under Major Bradford ; while
Major Robert Treat, with the 300 from Connecti-

224 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
cut, brought up the rear. There were 985 men in
all. As the Massachusetts men rushed upon the
slippery bridge a deadly volley from the block
house slew six of their captains, while of
the great the rank and file there were many killed
swamp for- .
tress, Decern- or wounded. JN othing daunted they
ber 19. pressed on with great spirit till they
forced their way into the enclosure, but then the
head of their column, overcome by sheer weight of
numbers in the hand-to-hand fight, was pushed and
tumbled out into the swamp. Meanwhile some of
the Connecticut men had discovered a path across
the partly frozen swamp leading to a weak spot in
the rear, where the palisades were thin and few, as
undue reliance had been placed upon the steep
bank crowned with a thick rampart of bushes that
had been reinforced with clods of turf. In this
direction Treat swept along with his men in a
spirited charge. Before they had reached the spot
a heavy fire began mowing them down, but with a
furious rush they came up, and climbing on each
other's shoulders, some fought their way over the
rampart, while others hacked sturdily with axes
till such a breach was made that all might enter.
This was effected just as the Massachusetts men
had recovered themselves and crossed the treacher
ous log in a second charge that was successful and
soon brought the entire English force within the
enclosure. In the slaughter which filled the rest
of that Sunday afternoon till the sun went down
behind a dull gray cloud, the grim and wrathful
Puritan, as he swung his heavy cutlass, thought of
Saul and Agag, and spared not. The Lord had

KING PHILIP'S WAR. 225
delivered up to him the heathen as stubble to his
sword. As usual the number of the slain is vari
ously estimated. Of the Indians probably not less
than 1000 perished. Some hundreds, however,
with Canonchet their leader, saved themselves in
flight, well screened by the blinding snow-flakes
that began to fall just after sunset. Within the
fortified area had been stored the greater part of
the Indians' winter supply of corn, and the loss
of this food was a further deadly blow. Captain
Church advised sparing the wigwams and using
them for shelter, but Winslow seems to have
doubted the ability of his men to maintain them
selves in a position so remote from all support.
The wigwams with their tubs of corn were burned,
and a retreat was ordered. Through snowdrifts
that deepened every moment the weary soldiers
dragged themselves along until two hours after
midnight, when they reached the tiny village of
Wickford. Nearly one-fourth of their number had
been killed or Wounded, and many of the latter
perished before shelter was reached. Forty of
these were buried at Wickford in the course of the
next three days. Of the Connecticut men eighty
were left upon the swamp and in the breach at the
rear of the stronghold. Among the spoils which
the victors brought away were a number of good
muskets that had been captured by the Nipmucks
in their assault upon Deerfield.
This headlong overthrow of the Narragansett
power completely changed the face of things. The
question was no longer whether the red men could
possibly succeed in making New England too hot

226 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
for the white men, but simply how long it would
take for the white men to exterminate the red men.
The shiftless Indian was abandoning his squalid
agriculture and subsisting on the pillage of Eng-
Bffect of the ^^ f arms ; but the resources of the col-
biow. onies, though severely taxed, were by
no means exhausted. The dusky warriors slaugh
tered in the great swamp fight could not be re
placed ; but, as Roger Williams told the Indians,
there were still ten thousand white men who could
carry muskets, and should all these be slain, he
added, with a touch of hyperbole, the Great Father
in England could send ten thousand more. For
the moment Williams seems to have cherished a
hope that his great influence with the savages
might induce them to submit to terms of peace
while there was yet a remnant to be saved ; but
they were now as little inclined to parley as tigers
brought to bay, nor was the temper of the colonists
a whit less deadly, though it did not vent itself in
inflicting torture or in merely wanton orgies of
cruelty. To the modern these scenes of carnage are pain
ful to contemplate. In the wholesale destruction
of the Pequots, and to a less degree in that of the
Narragansetts, the death-dealing power of the
white man stands forth so terrible and relentless
that our sympathy is for a moment called out for
his victim. The feeling of tenderness toward the
weak, almost unknown among savages, is one of
the finest products of civilization. Where mur
derous emotions are frequently excited, it cannot
thrive. Such advance in humanity as we have

KING PHILIP'S WAR. 227
made within recent times is chiefly due to the fact
that the horrors of war are seldom brought home
to everybody's door. Either war is con- Growth of
ducted on some remote frontier, or if humane sena-
' ment in recent
armies march through a densely peopled times-
country the conditions of modern warfare have
made it essential to their efficiency as military in
struments that depredation and riot should be as
far as possible checked. Murder and pillage are
comparatively infrequent, massacre is seldom heard
of, and torture is almost or quite as extinct as can
nibalism. The mass of citizens escape physical
suffering, the angry emotions are so directed upon
impersonal objects as to acquire a strong ethical
value, and the intervals of strife may find individ
ual soldiers of hostile armies exchanging kindly
services. Members of a complex industrial society,
without direct experience of warfare save in this
mitigated form, have their characters wrought
upon in a way that is distinctively modern, as they
become more and more disinclined to violence and
cruelty. European historians have noticed, with
words of praise, the freedom from bloodthirstiness
which characterizes the American people. Mr.
Lecky has more than once remarked upon this hu
mane temperament which is so characteristic of
our peaceful civilization, and which sometimes, in
deed, shows the defects of its excellence and tends
to weaken society by making it difficult to inflict
due punishment upon the vilest criminals. In re
spect of this humanity the American of the nine
teenth century has without doubt improved very
considerably upon his forefathers of the seven-

228 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.

teenth. The England of Cromwell and Milton
was not, indeed, a land of hard-hearted people as
compared with their contemporaries. The long
experience of internal peace since the War of the
Roses had not been without its effect ; and while
the Tudor and Stuart periods had atrocities
enough, we need only remember what was going
on at the same time in France and Germany in
order to realize how much worse it might have
been. In England, as elsewhere, however, it was,
when looked at with our eyes, a rough and brutal
time. It was a day of dungeons, whipping-posts,
and thumbscrews, when slight offenders were
maimed and bruised and great offenders cut into
pieces by sentence of court. The pioneers of New
England had grown up familiar with such things ;
and among the townspeople of Boston and Hart
ford in 1675 were still many who in youth had
listened to the awful news from Magdeburg or
turned pale over the horrors in Piedmont upon
which Milton invoked the wrath of Heaven.
When civilized men are removed from the safe
guards of civilization and placed in the wilderness
amid the hideous dangers that beset human exist
ence in a savage state of society, whatever barba
rism lies latent in them is likely to find many op
portunities for showing itself. The feelings that
stir the meekest of men, as he stands among the
smouldering embers of his homestead and gazes
Warfare with upon the mangled bodies of wife and
to^trucuient children, are feelings that he shares
m character. w{tj, the most bloodthirsty savage, and
the primary effect of his higher intelligence and

KING PHILIP'S WAR. 229
greater sensitiveness is only to increase their bitter
ness. The neighbour who hears the dreadful story
is quick to feel likewise, for the same thing may
happen to him, and there is nothing so pitiless as
fear. With the Puritan such gloomy and savage
passions seemed to find justification in the sacred
text from which he drew his rules of life. To sup
pose that one part of the Bible could be less au
thoritative than another would have been to him
an incomprehensible heresy ; and bound between
the same covers that included the Sermon on the
Mount were tales of wholesale massacre perpe
trated by God's command. Evidently the red men
were not stray children of Israel, after all, but
rather Philistines, Canaanites, heathen, sons of
Belial, firebrands of hell, demons whom it was no
more than right to sweep from the face of the
earth. Writing in this spirit, the chroniclers of
the time were completely callous in their accounts
of suffering and ruin inflicted upon Indians, and,
as has elsewhere been known to happen, those who
did not risk their own persons were more truculent
in tone than the professional fighters. Of the nar
rators of the war, perhaps the fairest toward the
Indian is the doughty Captain Church, while none
is more bitter and cynical than the Ipswich pastor
William Hubbard.
While the overthrow of the Narragansetts
changed the face of things, it was far from putting
an end to the war. It showed that when the white
man could find his enemy he could deal crushing
blows, but the Indian was not always so easy to
find. Before the end of January Winslow's little

230 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
army was partially disbanded for want of food,
and its three contingents fell back upon Stoning-
ton, Boston, and Plymouth. Early in February
the Federal Commissioners called for a new levy
of 600 men to assemble at Brookfield, for the Nip
mucks were beginning to renew their incursions,
and after an interval of six months the figure of
Philip again appears for a moment upon the scene.
What he had been doing, or where he had been,
since the Brookfield fight in August, was never
known. When in February, 1676, he re-appeared
it was still in company with his allies the Nip-
Attack n mucks, in their bloody assault upon
Februtryio, Lancaster. On the 10th of that month
1676- at sunrise the Indians came swarming
into the lovely village. Danger had already been
apprehended, the pastor, Joseph Rowlandson, the
only Harvard graduate of 1652, had gone to Bos
ton to solicit aid, and Captain Wadsworth' s com
pany was slowly making its way over the difficult
roads from Marlborough, but the Indians were be
forehand. Several houses were at once surrounded
and set on fire, and men, women, and children be
gan falling under the tomahawk. The minister's
house was large and strongly built, and more than
forty people found shelter there until at length it
took fire and they were driven out by the flames.
Only one escaped, a dozen or more were slain, and
the rest, chiefly women and children, taken captive.
The Indians aimed at plunder as well as destruc
tion ; for they were in sore need of food and blan
kets, as well as of powder and ball. Presently, as
they saw Wadsworth's armed men approaching,

KING PHILIP'S WAR. 231
they took to flight and got away, with many pris
oners and a goodly store of provisions.
Among the captives was Mary Rowlandson, the
minister's wife, who afterward wrote the story of
her sad experiences. The treatment of the pris
oners varied with the caprice or the cupidity of the
captors. Those for whom a substantial ransom
might be expected fared comparatively well ; to
others death came as a welcome relief. One poor
woman with a child in her arms was too weak to
endure the arduous tramp over the icy hillsides,
and begged to be left behind, till presently the sav
ages lost their patience. They built a fire, and
after a kind of demon dance killed
i i •-, i • , .. i, Mrs. Rowland-
mother and child with a club and threw son's narra-
the bodies into the flames. Such treat
ment may seem exceptionally merciful, but those
modern observers who best know the Indian's
habits say that he seldom indulges in torture ex
cept when he has abundance of leisure and a mind
quite undisturbed. He is an epicure in human
agony and likes to enjoy it in long slow sips. It
is for the end of the march that the accumulation
of horrors is reserved ; the victims by the way are
usually despatched quickly ; and in the case of
Mrs. Rowlandson's captors their irregular and cir
cuitous march indicates that they were on the
alert. Their movements seem to have covered
much of the ground between Wachusett mountain
and the Connecticut river. They knew that the
white squaw of the great medicine man of an Eng
lish village was worth a heavy ransom, and so they
treated Mrs. Rowlandson unusually well. She had

232 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
been captured when escaping from the burning
house, carrying in her arms her little six-year-old
daughter. She was stopped by a bullet that
grazed her side and struck the child. The Indian
who seized them placed the little girl upon a horse,
and as the dreary march began she kept moaning
" I shall die, mamma." " I went on foot after it,"
says the mother, " with sorrow that cannot be ex
pressed. At length I took it off the horse, and
carried it in my arms till my strength failed me,
and I fell down with it. . . . After this it quickly
began to snow, and when night came on they
stopped. And now down I must sit in the snow, by
a little fire, and a few boughs behind me, with my
sick child in my lap, and calling much for water,
being now, through the wound, fallen into a vio
lent fever. . . . Oh, may I see the wonderful
power of God that my spirit did not utterly sink
under my affliction ; still the Lord upheld me with
his gracious and merciful spirit." The little girl
soon died. For three months the weary and heart
broken mother was led about the country by these
loathsome savages, of whose habits and manners
she gives a vivid description. At first their om-
nivorousness astonished her. " Skunks and rattle
snakes, yea the very bark of trees " they esteemed
as delicacies. " They would pick up old bones and
cut them in pieces at the joints, . . . then boil
them and drink up the liquor, and then beat the
great ends of them in a mortar and so eat them."
After some weeks of starvation Mrs. Rowlandson
herself was fain to partake of such viands. One
day, having made a cap for one of Philip's boys,

KING PHILIP'S WAR. 233
she was invited to dine with the great sachem.
" I went," she says, " and he gave me a pancake
about as big as two fingers. It was made of
parched wheat, beaten, and fried in bear's grease ;
but I thought 1 never tasted pleasanter meat in
my life." Early in May she was redeemed for
,£20, and went to find her husband in Boston,
where the Old South Church society hired a house
for them.
Such was the experience of a captive whose
treatment was, according to Indian notions, hos
pitable. There were few who came off so well.
Almost every week while she was led hither and
thither by the savages, Mrs. Rowlandson heard
ghastly tales of fire and slaughter. It was a busy
winter and spring for these Nipmucks. Before
February was over, their exploit at Lancaster was
followed by a shocking massacre at Medfield.
They sacked and destroyed the towns of Worces
ter, Marlborough, Mendon, and Groton, and even
burned some houses in Weymouth, within a dozen
miles of Boston. Murderous attacks were made
upon Sudbury, Chelmsford, Springfield, Hat
field, Hadley, Northampton, Wrentham, Andover,
Bridgewater, Scituate, and Middleborough. On
the 18th of April Captain Wadsworth,
with 70 men, was drawn into an ambush minationof
near Sudbury, surrounded by 500 Nip- February-
mucks, and killed with 50 of his men ;
six unfortunate captives were burned alive over
slow fires. But Wadsworth's party made the
enemy pay dearly for his victory ; that afternoon
120 Nipmucks bit the dust. In such wise, by

234 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
killing two or three for one, did the English wear
out and annihilate their adversaries. Just one
month from that day Captain Turner surprised
and slaughtered 300 of these warriors near the
falls of the Connecticut river which have since
borne his name, and this blow at last broke the
strength of the Nipmucks.
Meanwhile the Narragansetts and Wampanoags
had burned the towns of Warwick and Provi
dence. After the wholesale ruin of the great
" swamp fight," Canonchet had still some 600 or
700 warriors left, and with these, on the 26th of
March, in the neighbourhood of Pawtuxet, he sur
prised a company of 50 Plymouth men under
Captain Pierce and slew them all, but not until he
had lost 140 of his best warriors. Ten days later
Captain Denison, with his Connecticut company,
defeated and captured Canonchet, and the proud
son of Miantonomo met the same fate as his father.
d ath t -^e was nanded over to the Mohegans
canonchet. an(j tomahawked. The Narragansett
sachem had shown such bravery that it seemed,
says the chronicler Hubbard, as if " some old Ro
man ghost had possessed the body of this western
pagan." But next moment this pious clergyman,
as if ashamed of the classical eulogy just bestowed
upon the hated redskin, alludes to him as a
" damned wretch."
The fall of Canonchet marked the beginning of
the end. In four sharp fights in the last week
of June, Major Talcott, of Hartford, slew from
300 to 400 warriors, being nearly all that were
left of the Narragansetts ; and during the month

KING PHILIP'S WAR. 235
of July Captain Church patrolled the country
about Taunton, making prisoners of the Wam
panoags. Once more King Philip, shorn of his
prestige, comes upon the scene. We have seen
that his agency in these cruel events had been at
the outset a potent one. Whatever else it may
have been, it was at least the agency of the match
that explodes the powder-cask. Under the con
ditions of that savage society, organized leadership
was not to be looked for. In the irregular and
disorderly series of murdering raids Philip may
have been often present, but except for Mrs. Row-
landson's narrative we should have known nothing
of him since the Brookfield fight.
At length in July, 1676, having seen the last of
his Nipmuck friends overwhelmed, the tattered
chieftain showed himself near Bridgewater, with a
handful of followers. In these his own hunting-
grounds some of his former friends had become
disaffected. The daring and diplomatic Church
had made his way into the wigwam of Ashawonks,
the squaw sachem of Saconet, near Little Comp
ton, and having first convinced her that a flask of
brandy might be tasted without fatal results, fol
lowed up his advantage and persuaded her to make
an alliance with the English. Many Indians came
in and voluntarily surrendered tliemselves, in order
to obtain favourable terms, and some lent their aid
in destroying their old sachem. Defeated at Taun
ton, the son of Massasoit was hunted by Church to
his ancient lair at Bristol Neck and there besieged.
His only escape was over the narrow isthmus of
which the pursuers now took possession, and in

236 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
this dire extremity one of Philip's men presumed
to advise his chief that the hour for surrender had
come. For his unwelcome counsel the sachem
forthwith lifted his tomahawk and struck him dead
at his feet. Then the brother of the slain man
crept away through the bushes to Church's little
camp, and offered to guide the white
Death of x , i t»i -t i
Philip, Au- men to the morass where Philip lay
concealed. At daybreak of August 12
the English stealthily advancing beat up their
prey. The savages in sudden panic rushed from
under cover, and as the sachem showed himself
running at the top of his speed, a ball from an In
dian musket pierced his heart, and " he fell upon
his face in the mud and water, with his gun under
him." His severed head was sent to Plymouth,
where it was mounted on a pole and exposed aloft
upon the village green, while the meeting-house
bell summoned the townspeople to a special service
of thanksgiving.
It may be supposed that in such services at this
time a Christian feeling of charity and forgiveness
was not uppermost. Among the captives was a
son of Philip, the little swarthy lad of nine years
for whom Mrs. Rowlandson had made a cap, and
the question as to what was to be done with him
occasioned as much debate as if he had been a
Jesse Pomeroy1 or a Chicago anarchist. The
1 A wretched little werewolf who some few years ago, being
then a lad of fourteen or fifteen years, most cruelly murdered two
or three young children, just to amuse himself with their dying
agonies. The misdirected " humanitarianism," which in our coun
try makes every murderer an object of popular sympathy, pre
vailed to save this creature from the gallows. Massachusetts has

KING PHILIP'S WAR. 237
opinions of the clergy were, of course, eagerly
sought and freely vouchsafed. One minister some
what doubtfully urged that " although a precept in
Deuteronomy explicitly forbids killing the child
for the father's sin," yet after all " the children of
Saul and Achan perished with their parents,
though too young to have shared their guilt."
Thus curiously did this English reverence for
precedent, with a sort of grim conscientiousness
colouring its gloomy wrath, search for guidance
among the ancient records of the children of Israel.
Commenting upon the truculent suggestion, In
crease Mather, soon to be president of Harvard,
observed that, " though David had spared the in
fant Hadad, yet it might have been better for his
people if he had been less merciful." These blood
thirsty counsels did not prevail, but the course that
was adopted did not lack in harshness. Among
the sachems a dozen leading spirits were Tnaians sold
hanged or shot, and hundreds of cap- intosla™ry.
tives were shipped off to the West Indies to be
sold into slavery ; among these was Philip's little
son. The rough soldier Church and the apostle
Eliot were among the few who disapproved of this
lately witnessed a, similar instance of misplaced clemency in the
case of a vile woman who had poisoned eight or ten persons, in
cluding some of her own children, in order to profit by their life
insurance. Such instances help to explain the prolonged vitality
of "Judge Lynch," and sometimes almost make one regret the
days in old England when William Probert, after escaping in
1824 as "king's evidence," from the Thurtell affair, got caught
and hanged within a twelvemonth for horse-stealing. Any one
who wishes to study the results of allowing criminality to survive
and propagate itself should read Dugdale's The Jukes ; Heredi
tary Crime, New York, 1877.

238 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
policy. Church feared it might goad such Indians
as were still at large to acts of desperation. Eliot,
in an earnest letter to the Federal Commissioners,
observed : " To sell souls for money seemeth to
me dangerous merchandise." But the plan of ex
porting the captives was adhered to. As slaves
they were understood to be of little or no value,
and sometimes for want of purchasers they were
set ashore on strange coasts and abandoned. A
few were even carried to one of the foulest of
mediaeval slave-marts, Morocco, where their fate
was doubtless wretched enough.
In spite of Church's doubts as to the wisdom of
this harsh treatment, it did not prevent the beaten
and starving savages from surrendering themselves
in considerable numbers. To some the Federal
Commissioners offered amnesty, and the promise
was faithfully fulfilled. Among those who laid
down arms in reliance upon it were 140 Christian
Indians, with their leader known as James the
Printer, because he had been employed at Cam
bridge in setting up the type for Eliot's Bible.
Quite early in the war it had been discovered that
these converted savages still felt the ties of blood
to be stronger than those of creed. At the attack
on Mendon, only three weeks after the horrors at
Swanzey that ushered in the war, it was known
that Christian Indians had behaved
Conduct of . . .
the christian themselves quite as cruelly as their un-
Indians. regenerate brethren. Afterwards they
made such a record that the jokers and punsters of
the day — for such there were, even among those
sombre Puritans — in writing about the " Praying

KING PHILIP'S WAR. 239
Indians," spelled praying with an e. The moral
scruples of these savages, under the influence of
their evangelical training, betrayed queer freaks.
One of them, says Mrs. Rowlandson, would rather
die than eat horseflesh, so narrow and scrupulous
was his conscience, although it was as wide as the
whole infernal abyss, when it came to torturing
white Christians. The student of history may
have observed similar inconsistencies in the theories
and conduct of people more enlightened than these
poor red men. " There was another Praying In
dian," continues Mrs. Rowlandson, " who, when he
had done all the mischief he could, betrayed his
own father into the English's hands, thereby to
purchase his own life ; . . . and there was another
... so wicked ... as to wear a string about his
neck, strung with Christian fingers."
Such incidents help us to comprehend the ex
asperation of our forefathers in the days of King
Philip. The month which witnessed his death
saw also the end of the war in the southern parts
of New England ; but, almost before people had
time to offer thanks for the victory, there came
news of bloodshed on the northeastern frontier.
The Tarratines in Maine had for some time been
infected with the war fever. How far they may
have been comprehended in the schemes of Philip
and Canonchet, it would be hard to say. They
had attacked settlers on the site of
-n "1 1 n 1 -t nrrE ^ar witn fcIle
Brunswick as early as September, lb7o. Tarratines,
•/ X ' ¦• (V7C  7C
About the time of Philip's death, Major
Waldron of Dover had entrapped a party of them
by an unworthy stratagem, and after satisfying

240 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
himself that they were accomplices in that chief
tain's scheme, sent them to Boston to be sold into
slavery. A terrible retribution was in store for
Major Waldron thirteen years later. For the
present the hideous strife, just ended in southern
New England, was continued on the northeastern
frontier, and there was scarcely a village between
the Kennebec and the Piscataqua but was laid in
ashes. By midsummer of 1678 the Indians had been
everywhere suppressed, and there was peace in the
land. For three years, since Philip's massacre at
Swanzey, there had been a reign of terror in New
England. Within the boundaries of Connecticut,
indeed, little or no damage had been inflicted, and
the troops of that colony, not needed on their own
soil, did noble service in the common cause.
In Massachusetts and Plymouth, on the other
hand, the destruction of life and property had been
„ x simply frightful. Of ninety towns,
Destructive- r J b J ¦>
ness of the twelve had been utterly destroyed, while
war. J J '
more than forty others had been the
scene of fire and slaughter. Out of this little
society nearly a thousand staunch men, including
not few of broad culture and strong promise, had
lost their lives, while of the scores of fair women
and poor little children that had perished under
the ruthless tomahawk, one can hardly give an ac
curate account. Hardly a family throughout the
land but was in mourning. The war-debt of Plym
outh was reckoned to exceed the total amount of
personal property in the colony ; yet although it
pinched every household for many a year, it was

KING PHILIP'S WAR. 241
paid to the uttermost farthing ; nor in this respect
were Massachusetts and Connecticut at all behind
hand. But while King Philip's War wrought such fear
ful damage to the English, it was for the Indians
themselves utter destruction. Most of the war
riors were slain, and to the survivors, as we have
seen, the conquerors showed but scant mercy. The
Puritan, who conned his Bible so earnestly, had
taken his hint from the wars of the Jews, and
swept his New English Canaan with a broom that
was pitiless and searching. Henceforth the red
man figures no more in the history of New Eng
land, except as an ally of the French in bloody
raids upon the frontier. In that capacity he does
mischief enough for yet a half-century more, but
from central and southern New England, as an
element of disturbance or a power to be reckoned
with, he disappears forever.

CHAPTER VI.
THE TYRANNY OF ANDEOS.
The beginnings of New England were made in
the full daylight of modern history. It was an
age of town records, of registered deeds, of con
temporary memoirs, of diplomatic correspondence,
of controversial pamphlets, funeral sermons, po
litical diatribes, specific instructions, official re
ports, and private letters. It was not a time in
which mythical personages or incredible legends
could flourish, and such things we do
features in the not find in the history of New England.
of New Bug- There was nevertheless a romantic side
land. , . , . , .,
to this history, enough to envelop some
of its characters and incidents in a glamour that
may mislead the modern reader. This wholesale
migration from the smiling fields of merry Eng
land to an unexplored wilderness beyond a thou
sand leagues of sea was of itself a most romantic
and thrilling event, and when viewed in the light
of its historic results it becomes clothed with sub
limity. The men who undertook this work were
not at all free from self-consciousness. They be
lieved that they were doing a wonderful thing.
They felt themselves to be instruments in accom
plishing a kind of "manifest destiny." Their
exodus was that of a chosen people who were at

THE TYRANNY OF ANDROS. 243
length to lay the everlasting foundations of God's
kingdom upon earth. Such opinions, which took
a strong colour from their assiduous study of the
Old Testament, reacted and disposed them all the
more to search its pages for illustrations and prece
dents, and to regard it as an oracle, almost as a
talisman. In every propitious event they saw a
special providence, an act of divine intervention to
deliver them from the snares of an ever watchful
Satan. This steadfast faith in an unseen ruler
and guide was to them a pillar of cloud by day
and of fire by night. It was of great moral value.
It gave them clearness of purpose and concentra
tion of strength, and contributed toward making
them, like the children of Israel, a people of in
destructible vitality and aggressive energy. At
the same time, in the hands of the Puritan writers,
this feeling was apt to warp their estimates of
events and throw such a romantic haze about
things as seriously to interfere with a true his
torical perspective.
Among such writings that which perhaps best
epitomizes the Puritan philosophy is "The Won
der-working Providence of Zion's Saviour in New
England," by Captain Edward Johnson, Edward Jonn.
one of the principal founders of Wo- 80n-
burn. It is an extremely valuable history of New
England from 1628 to 1651, and every page is
alive with the virile energy of that stirring time.
With narrative, argument, and apologue, abound
ing in honesty of purpose, sublimity of trust, and
grotesqueness of fancy, wherein touching tender
ness is often alternated with sternness most grim

244 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
and merciless, yet now and then relieved by a
sudden gleam of humour, — and all in a style that
is usually uncouth and harsh, but sometimes bursts
forth in eloquence worthy of Bunyan, — we are
told how the founders of New England are sol
diers of Christ enlisted in a holy war, and how
they must " march manfully on till all opposers of
Christ's kingly power be abolished." "And as
for you who are called to sound forth his silver
trumpets, blow loud and shrill to this chiefest
treble tune — for the armies of the great Jehovah
are at hand." " He standeth not as an idle spec
tator beholding his people's ruth and their enemies'
rage, but as an actor in all actions, to bring to
naught the desires of the wicked, . . . having also
the ordering of every weapon in its first produce,
guiding every shaft that flies, leading each bullet
to his place of settling, and weapon to the wound
it makes." To men engaged in such a crusade
against the powers of evil, nothing could seem in
significant or trivial; for, as Johnson continues,
in truly prophetic phrase, " the Lord Christ in
tends to achieve greater matters by this little
handful than the world is aware of."
The general sentiment of the early New Eng
land writers was like that of the " Wonder-work
ing Providence," though it did not always find
such rhapsodic expression. It has left its impress
upon the minds of their children's children down
to our own time, and has affected the opinions
held about them by other people. It has had
something to do with a certain tacit assumption of
superiority on the part of New Englanders, upon

THE TYRANNY OF ANDROS. 245
which the men and women of other communities
have been heard to comment in resentful and
carping tones. There has probably never existed,
in any age or at any spot on the earth's surface, a
group of people that did not take for granted its
own preeminent excellence. Upon some such as
sumption, as upon an incontrovertible axiom, all
historical narratives, from the chronicles of a parish
to the annals of an empire, alike proceed. But in
New England it assumed a form especially apt
to provoke challenge. One of its unintentional
effects was the setting up of an unreal
l • -ii Tin i • t Aotsof the
and impossible standard by which to Puritans often
judge the acts and motives of the Puri- wrong stand-
tans of the seventeenth century. We
come upon instances of harshness and cruelty, of
narrow-minded bigotry, and superstitious frenzy ;
and feel, perhaps, a little surprised that these men
had so much in common with their contemporaries.
Hence the interminable discussion which has been
called forth by the history of the Puritans, in
which the conclusions of the writer have generally
been determined by circumstances of birth or
creed, or perhaps of reaction against creed. One
critic points to the Boston of 1659 or the Salem of
1692 with such gleeful satisfaction as used to stir
the heart of Thomas Paine when he alighted upon
an inconsistency in some text of the Bible ; while
another, in the firm conviction that Puritans could
do no wrong, plays fast and loose with arguments
that might be made to justify the deeds of a
Torquemada. From such methods of criticism it is the duty of

246 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
historians as far as possible to free themselves.
If we consider the Puritans in the light of their
surroundings as Englishmen of the seventeenth
century and inaugurators of a political movement
that was gradually to change for the better the
aspect of things all over the earth, we cannot fail
to discern the value of that sacred enthusiasm
which led them to regard themselves as chosen
spirit of the soldiers of Christ. It was the spirit of
woXdgerrov- the " Wonder-working Providence " that
idence." hurled the tyrant from his throne at
Whitehall and prepared the way for the emanci
pation of modern Europe. No spirit less intense,
no spirit nurtured in the contemplation of things
terrestrial, could ever have done it. The political
philosophy of a Vane or a Sidney could never
have done it. The passion for liberty as felt by a
Jefferson or an Adams, abstracted and generalized
from the love of particular liberties, was some
thing scarcely intelligible to the seventeenth cen
tury. The ideas of absolute freedom of thought
and speech, which we breathe in from childhood,
were to the men of that age strange and question
able. They groped and floundered among them,
very much as modern wool growers in Ohio or
iron-smelters in Pennsylvania flounder and grope
among the elementary truths of political economy.
But the spirit in which the Hebrew prophet re
buked and humbled an idolatrous king was a
spirit they could comprehend. Such a spirit was
sure to manifest itself in narrow cramping meas
ures and in ugly acts of persecution ; but it is
none the less to the fortunate alliance of that

THE TYRANNY OF ANDROS. 247
fervid religious enthusiasm with the Englishman's
love of self-government that our modern freedom
owes its existence.
The history of New England under Charles II.
yields abundant proof that political liberty is no
less indebted in the New World than in the Old to
the spirit of the "Wonder-working Providence."
The theocratic ideal which the Puritan sought to
put into practice in Massachusetts and
~ . . Merits and
Connecticut was a sacred institution in faults of the
defence of which all his faculties were
kept perpetually alert. Much as he loved self-gov
ernment, he would never have been so swift to
detect and so stubborn to resist every slightest en
croachment on the part of the crown had not the
loss of self-government involved the imminent dan
ger that the ark of the Lord might be abandoned to
the worshippers of Dagon. It was in Massachusetts,
where the theocracy was strongest, that the resist
ance to Charles II. was most dogged and did most
to prepare the way for the work of achieving po
litical independence a century later. Naturally it
was in Massachusetts at the same time that the
faults of the theocracy were most conspicuous. It
was there that priestly authority most clearly as
serted itself in such oppressive acts as are always
witnessed when too much power is left in the
hands of men whose primary allegiance is to a
kingdom not of this world. Much as we owe to
the theocracy for warding off the encroachments
of the crown, we cannot be sorry that it was itself
crushed in the process. It was well that it did not
survive its day of usefulness, and that the outcome

248 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
of the struggle was what has been aptly termed
" the emancipation of Massachusetts."
The basis of the theocratic constitution of this
commonwealth was the provision by which the ex
ercise of the franchise was made an incident of
church-membership. Unless a man could take
part in the Lord's Supper, as administered in the
churches of the colony, he could not vote or hold
Restriction of °^c&- Church and state, parish and
cnurcifmlm-0 town> were tnus virtually identified.
bers. Here, as in some other aspects of early
New England, one is reminded of the ancient
Greek cities, where the freeman who could vote in
the market-place or serve his turn as magistrate
was the man qualified to perform sacrifices to the
tutelar deities of the tribe ; other men might dwell
in the city but had no share in making or execut
ing its laws. The limitation of civil rights by re
ligious tests is indeed one of those common inher
itances from the old Aryan world that we find
again and again cropping out, even down to the
exclusion of Catholics from the House of Com
mons from 1562 to 1829. The obvious purpose
of this policy in England was self-protection ; and
in like manner the restriction of the suffrage in
Massachusetts was designed to protect the colony
against aggressive episcopacy and to maintain un
impaired the uniformity of purpose which had
brought the settlers across the ocean. Under the
circumstances there was something to be said in
behalf of such a measure of self-protection, and
the principle required but slight extension to cover
such cases as the banishment of Roger Williams

THE TYRANNY OF ANDROS. 249
and the Antinomian s. There was another side
to the case, however. From the very outset this
exclusive policy was in some ways a source of
weakness to Massachusetts, though we have seen
that the indirect effect was to diversify and enrich
the political, life of New England as a whole.
At first it led to the departure of the men who
founded Connecticut, and thereafter the way was
certainly open for those who preferred the Connec
ticut policy to go where it prevailed. Some such
segregation was no doubt effected, but it could not
be complete and thorough. Men who preferred
Boston without the franchise to Hartford with it
would remain in Massachusetts ; and „
' It was a
thus the elder colony soon came to pos- J°™ d^c^n"
sess a discontented class of people, al- tent-
ways ready to join hand in glove with dissenters
or mischief-makers, or even with emissaries of the
crown. It afforded a suggestive commentary upon
all attempts to suppress human nature by depriv
ing it of a share in political life ; instead of keep
ing it inside where you can try conclusions with
it fairly, you thrust it out to plot mischief in the
dark. Within twenty years from the founding of
Boston the disfranchisement of such citizens as
could not participate in church-communion had be
gun to be regarded as a serious political grievance.
These men were obliged to pay taxes and were
liable to be called upon for military service
against the Indians ; and they naturally felt that
they ought to have a voice in the management of
public affairs.
Besides this fundamental ground of complaint,

250 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
there were derivative grievances. Under the influ
ence of the clergy justice was administered in some
what inquisitorial fashion, there was an uncertainty
as to just what the law was, a strong disposition to
confuse questions of law with questions of ethics,
and great laxity in the admission and estimation of
evidence. As early as 1639 people had
Inquisitorial i • i l
administration begun to complain that too much power
of justice. i-i i . ¦ e i
was rested in the discretion of the mag
istrate, and they clamoured for a code of laws ; but
as Winthrop says, the magistrates and ministers
were " not very forward in this matter," for they
preferred to supplement the common law of Eng
land by decisions based on the Old Testament
rather than by a body of statutes. It was not
until 1649, after a persistent struggle, that the
deputies won a decisive victory over the assistants
and secured for Massachusetts a definite code of
laws. In the New Haven colony similar theocratic
notions led the settlers to dispense with trial by
jury because they could find no precedent for it in
the laws of Moses. Here, as in Massachusetts, the
inquisitorial administration of justice combined
with partial disfranchisement to awaken discon
tent, and it was partly for this reason that New
Haven fell so easily under the sway of Connecticut.
In Massachusetts after 1650 the opinion rapidly
gained ground that all baptized persons of upright
and decorous fives ought to be considered, for
practical purposes, as members of the church, and
The "Halfway therefore entitled to the exercise of polit-
covenant." jcaj rights, even though unqualified for
participation in the Lord's Supper. This theory

THE TYRANNY OF ANDROS. 251
of church-membership, based on what was at that
time stigmatized as the " Halfway Covenant,"
aroused intense opposition. It was the great ques
tion of the day. In 1657 a council was held in
Boston, which approved the principle of the Half
way Covenant ; and as this decision was far from
satisfying the churches, a synod of all the clergy
men in Massachusetts was held five years later, to
reconsider the great question. The decision of the
synod substantially confirmed the decision of the
council, but there were some dissenting voices.
Foremost among the dissenters, who wished to re
tain the old theocratic regime in all its strictness,
was Charles Chauncey, the president of Harvard
College, and Increase Mather agreed with him at
the time, though he afterward saw reason to
change his opinion, and published two tracts in
favour of the Halfway Covenant. Most bitter of
all toward the new theory of church-membership
was, naturally enough, Mr. Davenport of New
Haven. This burning question was the source of angry
contentions in the First Church of Boston. Its
teacher, the learned and melancholy Norton, died
in 1663, and four years later the aged pastor, John
Wilson, followed him. In choosing a successor to
Wilson the church decided to declare itself in op
position to the liberal decision of the synod, and in
token thereof invited Davenport to come from New
Haven to take charge of it. Davenport, who was
then seventy years old, was disgusted at the re
cent annexation of his colony to Connecticut. He
accepted the invitation and came to Boston, against

252 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
the wishes of nearly half of the Boston congrega
tion who did not like the illiberal principle which
he represented. In little more than a year his
ministry at Boston was ended by death ; but the
opposition to his call had already proceeded so far
that a secession from the old church had become
inevitable. In 1669 the advocates of
the oid South the Halfway Covenant organized them-
Church, 1669. . J . -,¦,¦-,
selves into a new society under the title
of the " Third Church in Boston." A wooden
meeting-house was built on a lot which had once
belonged to the late governor Winthrop, in what
was then the south part of the town, so that the
society and its meeting-house became known as the
South Church ; and after a new church founded in
Summer Street in 1717 took the name of the New
South, the church of 1669 came to be further dis
tinguished as the Old South. As this church
represented a liberal idea which was growing in
favour with the people, it soon became the most
flourishing church in America. After sixty years
its numbers had increased so that the old meeting
house could not contain them ; and in 1729 the
famous building which still stands was erected on
the same spot, — a building with a grander history
than any other on the American continent, unless
it be that other plain brick building in Philadel
phia where the Declaration of Independence was
adopted and the Federal Constitution framed.
The wrath of the First Church at this secession
from its ranks was deep and bitter, and for thir
teen years it refused to entertain ecclesiastical in
tercourse with the South Church. But by 1682 it

THE TYRANNY OF ANDROS. 253
had become apparent that the king and his friends
were meditating an attack upon the Puritan the
ocracy in New England. It had even been sug
gested, in the council for the colonies, that the
Church of England should be established in Mas
sachusetts, and that none but duly ordained Epis
copal clergymen should be allowed to solemnize
marriages. Such alarming suggestions began to
impress the various Puritan churches with the im
portance of uniting their forces against the com
mon enemy ; and accordingly in 1682 the quarrel
between the two Boston societies came to an end.
There was urgent need of all the sympathy and
good feeling that the community could muster,
whereby to cheer itself in the crisis that was com
ing. The four years from 1684 to .1688 were the
darkest years in the history of New England.
Massachusetts, though not lacking in the spirit,
had not the power to beard the tyrant as she did
eighty years later. Her attitude toward the
Stuarts — as we have seen — had been sometimes
openly haughty and defiant, sometimes silent and
sullen, but always independent. At the accession
of Charles II. the colonists had thought it worth
while to send commissioners to England to confer
with the king and avoid a quarrel. Charles
promised to respect their charter, but insisted that
in return they must take an oath of allegiance to
the crown, must administer justice in Demands of
the king's name, and must repeal their Charles n-
laws restricting the right of suffrage to church
members and prohibiting the Episcopal form of
worship. When the people of Massachusetts re-

254 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
ceived this message they consented to administei
justice in the king's name, but all the other mat
ters were referred for consideration to a committee,
and so they dropped out of sight. When the
royal commissioners came to Boston in 1664, they
were especially instructed to ascertain whether
Massachusetts had complied with the king's de
mands ; but upon this point the legislature stub
bornly withheld any definite answer, while it frit
tered away the time in trivial altercations with the
royal commissioners. The war with Holland and
the turbulent state of English politics operated for
several years in favour of this independent attitude
of the colonists, though during all this time their
enemies at court were busy with intrigues and ac
cusations. Apart from mere slanders the real
grounds of complaint were the restriction of the
suffrage, whereby members of the Church of Eng
land were shut out ; the claims of the eastern pro
prietors, heirs of Mason and Gorges,
agamstMaSssa- whose territory Massachusetts had ab
sorbed ; the infraction of the naviga
tion laws ; and the coinage of pine-tree shillings.
The last named measure had been forced upon the
colonists by the scarcity of a circulating medium.
Until 1661 Indian wampum had been a legal ten
der, and far into the eighteenth century it remained
current in small transactions. " In 1693 the fer
riage from New York to Brooklyn was eight stivers
in wampum or a silver twopence." 1 As early as
1652 Massachusetts had sought to supply the defi-
1 Weeden, Indian Money as a Factor in New England Civil
ization, Johns Hopkins University Studies, II. viii., ix. p. 30.

THE TYRANNY OF ANDROS. 255
cieney by the issue of shillings and sixpences. It
was an affair of convenience and probably had no
political purpose. The infraction of the naviga
tion laws was a more serious matter. " Ships
from France, Spain, and the Canaries traded
directly with Boston, and brought in goods which
had never paid duty in any English port." x The
effect of this was to excite the jealousy of the mer
chants in London and other English cities and to
deprive Massachusetts of the sympathy of that
already numerous and powerful class of people.
In 1675, the first year of King Philip's War, the
British government made up its mind to attend
more closely to the affairs of its Amer- „ T . .
•> The Lords of
ican colonies. It had got the Dutch Trade-
war off its hands, and could give heed to other
things. The general supervision of the colonies
was assigned to a standing committee of the privy
council, styled the " Lords of the Committee of
Trade and Plantations," and henceforth familiarly
known as the " Lords of Trade." Next year the
Lords of Trade sent an agent to Boston, with a
letter to Governor Leverett about the Mason and
Gorges claims. Under cover of this errand the
messenger was to go about and ascertain the sen
timents which people in the Kennebec and Piscat
aqua towns, as well as in Boston, entertained for
the government of Massachusetts. The person to
whom this work was entrusted was Edward Ran
dolph, a cousin of Robert Mason who Edward Ban.
inherited the proprietary claim to the dolPh-
Piscataqua country. To these men had old John
i Doyle, ii. 253.

256 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
Mason bequeathed his deadly feud with Massa
chusetts, and the fourteen years which Randolph
now spent in New England were busily devoted to
sowing the seeds of strife. In 1678 the king ap
pointed him collector and surveyor of customs at
the port of Boston, with instructions to enforce the
navigation laws. Randolph was not the man to do
unpopular things in such a way as to dull the edge
of the infliction ; he took delight in adding insult
to injury. He was at once harsh and treacherous.
His one virtue was pecuniary integrity ; he was in
accessible to bribes and did not pick and steal from
the receipts at the custom-house. In the other
relations of life he was disencumbered of scruples.
His abilities were not great, but his industry was
untiring, and he pursued his enemies with the te
nacity of a sleuth-hound. As an excellent British
historian observes, " he was one of those men who,
once enlisted as partisans, lose every other feeling
in the passion which is engendered of strife." x
The arrival of such a man boded no good to
Massachusetts. His reception at the town-house
was a cold one. Leverett liked neither his looks
nor his message, and kept his peaked hat on while
he read the letter ; when he came to the signature
of the king's chief secretary of state, he asked,
with careless contempt, " Who is this Henry Cov
entry ? " Randolph's choking rage found vent in
a letter to the king, taking pains to remind him
that the governor of Massachusetts had once been
an officer in Cromwell's army. As we read this
and think with what ghoulish glee the writer would
1 Doyle, Puritan Colonies, ii. 254.

THE TYRANNY OF ANDROS. 257
have betrayed Colonel Goffe into the hands of the
headsman, had any clue been given him, we can
quite understand why Hubbard and Mather had
nothing to say about the mysterious stranger at
Hadley. Everything that Randolph could think
of that would goad and irritate the king, he re
ported in full to London ; his letters were speci
mens of that worst sort of lie that is based upon
distorted half-truths ; and his malicious pen but
seldom lay idle.
While waiting for the effects of these reports to
ripen, Randolph was busily intriguing with some of
the leading men in Boston who were dissatisfied
with the policy of the dominant party, and under
his careful handling a party was soon brought into
existence which was ready to counsel submission to
the royal will. Such was the birth of Toryism in
New England. The leader of this party was Jo
seph Dudley, son of the grim verse-maker j h Dud.
who had come over as lieutenant to ley-
Winthrop. The younger Dudley was graduated
at Harvard in 1665, and proceeded to study the
ology, but soon turned his attention entirely to
politics. In 1673 he was a deputy from Roxbury
in the General Court ; in 1675 he took part in the
storming of the Narragansett fort; in 1677 and
the three following years he was one of the Fed
eral Commissioners. In character and temper he
differed greatly from his father. Like the pro
verbial minister's son whose feet are swift toward
folly, Joseph Dudley seems to have learned in
stern bleak years of childhood to rebel against the
Puritan theory of life. Much of the abuse that

258 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
has been heaped upon him, as a renegade and
traitor, is probably undeserved. It does not ap
pear that he ever made any pretence of love for
the Puritan commonwealth, and there were many
like him who had as lief be ruled by king as by
clergy. But it cannot be denied that his supple
ness and sagacity went along with a moral nature
that was weak and vulgar. Joseph Dudley was
essentially a self-seeking politician and courtier,
like his famous kinsman of the previous century,
Robert, Earl of Leicester. His party in Massa
chusetts was largely made up of men who had come
to the colony for commercial reasons, and had little
or no sympathy with the objects for which it was
founded. Among them were Episcopalians, Pres
byterians, and Baptists, who were allowed no
chance for public worship, as well as many others
who, like Gallio, cared for none of these things.
Their numbers, moreover, must have been large,
for Boston had grown to be a town of 5000 in
habitants, the population of Massachusetts was ap
proaching 30,000, and, according to Hutchinson,
scarcely one grown man in five was a church-mem
ber qualified to vote or hold office. Such a fact
speaks volumes as to the change which was coming
over the Puritan world. No wonder that the clergy
had begun to preach about the weeds and tares
that were overrunning Christ's pleasant garden.
No wonder that the spirit of revolt against the dis
franchising policy of the theocracy was ripe.
It was in 1679, when this weakness of the body
politic had been duly studied and reported by
Randolph, and when all New England was groan-

THE TYRANNY OF ANDROS. 259
ing under the bereavements and burdens entailed
by Philip's war, that the Stuart government began
its final series of assaults upon Massachusetts.
The claims of the eastern proprietors, the heirs of
Mason and Gorges, furnished the occa-
c< • -i r> a r» i p -r\- Royal prov-
sion. bince lb43 the tour Piscataqua ince of New
tt -n t-v i Hampshire.
towns — Hampton, Jixeter, Dover, and
Portsmouth — had remained under the jurisdic
tion of Massachusetts. After the Restoration the
Mason claim had been revived, and in 1677 was
referred to the chief-justices North and Rainsford.
Their decision was that Mason's claim had always
been worthless as based on a grant in which the
old Plymouth Company had exceeded its powers.
They also decided that Massachusetts had no valid
claim since the charter assigned her a boundary
just north of the Merrimack. This decision left
the four towns subject to none but the king, who
forthwith in 1679 proceeded to erect them into the
royal province of New Hampshire, with president
and council appointed by the crown, and an as
sembly chosen by the people, but endowed with
little authority, — a tricksome counterfeit of popu
lar government. Within three years an arrogant
and thieving ruler, Edward Cranfield, had goaded
New Hampshire to acts of insurrection.
To the decisions of the chief -justices Massachu
setts must needs submit. The Gorges claim led
to more serious results. Under Cromwell's rule
in 1652 — the same year in which she began coin
ing money — Massachusetts had extended her sway
over Maine. In 1665 Colonel Nichols and his
commissioners, acting upon the express instruc-

260 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
tions of Charles II. , took it away from her. In
The Gorges 1668, after the commissioners had gone
claim. home, Massachusetts coolly took posses
sion again. In 1677 the chief -justices decided that
the claim of the Gorges family, being based ou a
grant from James I., was valid. Then the young
Ferdinando Gorges, grandson of the first proprie
tor, offered to sell the province to the king, who
had now taken it into his head that he would like
to bestow it upon the Duke of Monmouth, his
favourite son by Lucy Walters. Before Charles
had responded, Governor Leverett had struck a
bargain with Gorges, who ceded to Massachusetts
all his rights over Maine for ,£1250 in hard cash.
When the king heard of this transaction he was
furious. He sent a letter to Boston, commanding
the General Court to surrender the province again
on repayment of this sum of £1250, and express
ing his indignation that the people should thus
dare to dispose of an important claim off-hand
without consulting his wishes. In the same letter
the colony was enjoined to put in force the royal
orders of seventeen years before, concerning the
oath of allegiance, the restriction of the suffrage,
and the prohibition of the Episcopal form of
worship. This peremptory message reached Boston about
Christmas, 1679. Leverett, the sturdy Ironsides,
had died six months before, and his place was
filled by Simon Bradstreet, a man of moderate
powers but great integrity, and held in peculiar
reverence as the last survivor of those that had
been chosen to office before leaving England by

THE TYRANNY OF ANDROS. 261
the leaders of the great Puritan exodus. Born in a
Lincolnshire village in 1603, he was
n i tt i ¦¦ i Simon Brad-
now seventy-six years old. He had taken street and his
his degree at Emmanuel College, Cam
bridge, had served as secretary to the Earl of
Warwick, and in 1629 had been appointed mem
ber of the board of assistants for the colony about
to be established on Massachusetts bay. In this
position he had remained with honour for half a
century, while he had also served as Federal Com
missioner and as agent for the colony in London.
His wife, who died in 1672, was a woman of quaint
learning and quainter verses, which her contempo
raries admired beyond measure. One of her books
was republished in London, with the title: "The
Tenth Muse, lately sprung up in America." John
Norton once said that if Virgil could only have
heard the seraphic poems of Anne Bradstreet, he
would have thrown his heathen doggerel into the
fire. She was sister of Joseph Dudley, and evi
dently inherited this rhyming talent, such as it
was, from her father. Governor Bradstreet be
longed to the moderate party who would have
been glad to extend the franchise, but he did not
go with his brother-in-law in subservience to the
king. When the General Court assembled, in May,
1680, the full number of eighteen assistants ap
peared, for the first time in the history of the
colony, and in accordance with an expressed wish
of the king. They were ready to yield in trifles,
but not in essentials. After wearisome discussion,
the answer to the royal letter was decided on. It

262 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
stated in vague and unsatisfactory terms that the
royal orders of 1662 either had been car-
Massachusetts ., ,, , iii- I.-
anBwers the ned out already or would be in good time,
while to the demand for the surrender
of Maine no reply whatever was made, save that
" they were heartily sorry that any actings of theirs
should be displeasing to his Majesty." After this,
when Randolph wrote home that the king's letters
were of no more account in Massachusetts than
an old London Gazette, he can hardly be accused
of stretching the truth. Randolph kept busily at
work, and seems to have persuaded the Bishop of
London that if the charter could be annulled,
episcopacy might be established in Massachusetts
as in England. In February, 1682, a letter came
from the king demanding submission and threaten
ing legal proceedings against the charter. Dudley
was then sent as agent to London, and with him
was sent a Mr. Richards, of the extreme clerical
party, to watch him.
Meanwhile the king's position at home had been
changing. He had made up his mind to follow his
father's example and try the experiment of setting
his people at defiance and governing without a
parliament. This could not be done without a
great supply of money. Louis XIV. had plenty
of money, for there was no constitution in France
to prevent his squeezing what he wanted out of
the pockets of an oppressed people. France was
thriving greatly now, for Colbert had introduced
a comparatively free system of trade between the
provinces and inaugurated an era of prosperity
soon to be cut short by the expulsion of the

THE TYRANNY OF ANDROS. 263
Huguenots. Louis could get money enough for
the asking, and would be delighted to foment civil
disturbances in England, so as to tie the hands of
the only power which at that moment could inter
fere with his seizing Alsace and Lorraine and in
vading Flanders. The pretty Louise de Keroualle,
Duchess of Portsmouth, with her innocent baby
face and heart as cold as any reptile's, was the
French Delilah chosen to shear the locks of the
British Samson. By such means and from such
motives a secret treaty was made in
February, 1681, by which Louis agreed between
to pay Charles 2,000,000 livres down, and Louis'
and 500,000 more in each of the next
two years, on condition that he should summon no
more parliaments within that time. This bargain
for securing the means of overthrowing the laws
and liberties of England was, on the part of
Charles II. , an act no less reprehensible than some
of those for which his father had gone to the block.
But Charles could now afford for a while to wreak
his evil will. He had already summoned a parlia
ment for the 21st of March, to meet at Oxford
within the precincts of the subservient university,
and out of reach of the high-spirited freemen of
London. He now forced a quarrel with the new
parliament and dissolved it within a week. A
joiner named Stephen College, who had spoken
his mind too freely in the taverns at Oxford with
regard to these proceedings, was drawn and quar
tered. The Whig leader Lord Shaftesbury was
obliged to flee to Holland. In the absence of a
parliament the only power of organized resistance

264 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
to the king's tyranny resided in the corporate gov
ernments of the chartered towns. The
Shameful pro- , <• t i t n
ceedmgsin charter of .London was accordingly at
tacked by a writ of quo warranto, and
in June, 1683, the time-serving judges declared it
confiscated. George Jeffreys, a low drunken fel
low whom Charles had made Lord Chief Justice,
went on a circuit through the country ; and, as
Roger North says, " made all the charters, like the
walls of Jericho, fall down before him, and re
turned laden with surrenders, the spoils of towns."
At the same time a terrible blow was dealt at two
of the greatest Whig families in England. Lord
William Russell, son of the Earl of Bedford, and
Algernon Sidney, younger son of the Earl of
Leicester, two of the purest patriots and ablest
liberal leaders of the day, were tried on a false
charge of treason and beheaded.
By this quick succession of high-handed meas
ures, the friends of law and liberty were for a mo
ment disconcerted and paralyzed. In the fiightful
abasement of the courts of justice which these
events so clearly showed, the freedom of English
men seemed threatened in its last stronghold.
The doctrine of passive obedience to monarchs was
preached in the pulpits and inculcated by the uni
versity of Oxford, which ordered the works of
John Milton to be publicly burned. Sir Robert
Filmer wrote that " not only in human laws, but
even in divine, a thing may by the king be com
manded contrary to law, and yet obedience to
such a command is necessary." Charles felt so
strong that in 1684 he flatly refused to summon a
parliament.

THE TYRANNY OF ANDROS. 265
It was not long before the effects of all this were
felt in New England. The mission of Dudley and
his colleague was fruitless. They re- Ma8Bachusett3
turned to Boston, and Randolph, who ^Xrher8"1'"
had followed them to London, now fol- ollarter-
lowed them back, armed with a writ of quo war
ranto which he was instructed not to serve until
he should have given Massachusetts one more
chance to humble herself in the dust. Should she
modify her constitution to please a tyrant or see
it trampled under foot? Recent events in Eng
land served for a solemn warning ; for the moment
the Tories were silenced ; perhaps after all, the
absolute rule of a king was hardly to be preferred
to the sway of the Puritan clergy ; the day when
the House of Commons sat still and wept seemed
to have returned. A great town-meeting was held
in the Old South Meeting-House, and the moder
ator requested all who were for surrendering the
charter to hold up their hands. Not a hand was
lifted, and out from the throng a solitary voice
exclaimed, with deep-drawn breath, " The Lord be
praised ! " Then arose Increase Mather, president
of Harvard College, and reminded them how their
fathers did win this charter, and should they de
liver it up unto the spoiler who demanded it " even
as Ahab required Naboth's vineyard, Oh! their
children would be bound to curse them." Such
was the attitude of Massachusetts, and when it
was known in London, the blow was it is annulled
struck. For technical reasons Ran- chancery,
1 1 T , • , J 1, J. JUlle 21> 168i
dolphs writ was not served; but on
the 21st of June a decree in chancery annulled the
charter of Massachusetts.

266 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
To appreciate the force of this blow we must
pause for a moment and consider what it involved.
The right to the soil of North America had been
hitherto regarded in England, on the strength of
the discoveries of the Cabots, as an appurtenance
to the crown of Henry VII., — as something
which descended from father to son like the palace
at Hampton Court or the castle at Windsor, but
which the sovereign might alienate by his volun
tary act just as he might sell or give away a piece
of his royal domain in England. Over this vast
territory it was doubtful how far Parliament was
entitled to exercise authority, and the rights of
Englishmen settled there had theoretically no se
curity save in the provisions of the various char
ters by which the crown had delegated
nulling the its authority to individual proprietors or
to private companies. It was thus on
the charter granted by Charles I. to the Company
of Massachusetts Bay that not only the cherished
political and ecclesiastical institutions of the
colony, but even the titles of individuals to their
lands and houses, were supposed to be founded.
By the abrogation of the charter, all rights and
immunities that had been based upon it were at
once swept away, and every rood of the soil of
Massachusetts became the personal property of the
Stuart king, who might, if he should possess the
will and the power, turn out all the present occu
pants or otherwise deal with them as trespassers.
Such at least was the theory of Charles IL, and to
show that he meant to wreak his vengeance with no
gentle hand, he appointed as his viceroy the brutal

THE TYRANNY OF ANDROS. 267
Percy Kirke, — a man who would have no scruples
about hanging a few citizens without trial, should
occasion require it.
But in February, 1685, just as Charles seemed
to be getting everything arranged to his mind, a
stroke of apoplexy carried him off the scene, and
his brother ascended the throne. Monmouth's re
bellion, and the horrible cruelties that followed,
kept Colonel Kirke busy in England through the
summer, and left the new king scant leisure to
think about America. Late in the autumn, having
made up his mind that he could not SirEdmund
spare such an exemplary knave as Kirke, Andros-
James II. sent over Sir Edmund Andros. In the
mean time the government of Massachusetts had
been administered by Dudley, who showed himself
willing to profit by the misfortunes of his country.
Andros had long been one of James's favourites.
He was the dull and dogged English officer such
as one often meets, honest enough and faithful to
his master, neither cruel nor rapacious, but coarse
in fibre and wanting in tact. Some years before,
when governor of New York, he had a territorial
dispute with Connecticut, and now cherished a
grudge against the people of New England, so
that, from James's point of view, he was well
fitted to be their governor. James wished to
abolish all the local governments in America, and
unite them, as far as possible, under a single ad
ministration. With Plymouth there could be no
trouble ; she had never had a charter, but had ex
isted on sufferance from the outset. In 1687 the
charters of Rhode Island and Connecticut were re-

268 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
scinded, but the decrees were not executed in due
form. In October of that year Andros went to
m, „, _ Hartford, to seize the Connecticut char-
The Charter '
0ak- ter, but it was not surrendered. While
Sir Edmund was bandying threats with stout
Robert Treat, the queller of Indians and now gov
ernor of Connecticut, in the course of their even
ing conference the candles were suddenly blown
out, and when after some scraping of tinder they
were lighted again the document was nowhere to
be found, for Captain Wadsworth had carried it
away and hidden it in the hollow trunk of a mighty
oak tree. Nevertheless for the moment the colony
was obliged to submit to the tyrant. Next day
the secretary John Allyn wrote " Finis " on the
colonial records and shut up the book. Within
another twelvemonth New York and New Jersey
were added to the viceroyalty of Andros ; so that
all the northern colonies from the forests of Maine
to the Delaware river were thus brought under the
arbitrary rule of one man, who was responsible to
no one but the king for whatever he might take it
into his head to do.
The vexatious character of the new government
was most strongly felt at Boston where Andros had
his headquarters. Measures were at once taken
for the erection of an Episcopal church,
Episcopal ser- A A
vices in Bos- and meantime the royal order was that
one of the principal meeting-houses
should be seized for the use of the Church of Eng
land. This was an ominous beginning. In the
eyes of the people it was much more than a mere
question of disturbing Puritan prejudices. They

THE TYRANNY OF ANDROS. 269
had before them the experience of Scotland during
the past ten years, the savage times of " Old Mor
tality," the times which had seen the tyrannical
prelate, on the lonely moor, begging in vain for
his life, the times of Drumclog and Bothwell Brigg,
of Claverhouse and his flinty-hearted troopers, of
helpless women tied to stakes on the Solway shore
and drowned by inches in the rising tide. What
had happened in one part of the world might hap
pen in another, for the Stuart policy was the same.
It aimed not at securing toleration but at assert
ing unchecked supremacy. Its demand for an
inch was the prelude to its seizing an ell, and
so our forefathers understood it. Sir Edmund's
formal demand for the Old South Meeting-House
was flatly refused, but on Good Friday, 1687, the
sexton was frightened into opening it, and thence
forward Episcopal services were held there alter
nately with the regular services until the overthrow
of Andros. The pastor, Samuel Willard, was son
of the gallant veteran who had rescued the be
leaguered people of Brookfield in King Philip's
war. Amusing passages occurred between him and
Sir Edmund, who relished the pleasantry of keep
ing minister and congregation waiting an hour or
two in the street on Sundays before yielding to
them the use of their meeting-house. More kindly
memories of the unpopular governor are associated
with the building of the first King's
° . . Founding of
Chapel on the spot where its venerable the King's
. rp,, . , Chapel, 1689.
successor now stands. The church was
not finished until after Sir Edmund had taken his
departure, but Lady Andros, who died in February,

270 THE BEGINNINGS OF NE W ENGLAND.
1688, lies in the burying-ground hard by. Her
gentle manners had won all hearts. For the mo
ment, we are told, one touch of nature made ene
mies kin, and as Sir Edmund walked to the town-
house " many a head was bared to the bereaved
husband that before had remained stubbornly cov
ered to the exalted governor." l
The despotic rule of Andros was felt in more
serious ways than in the seizing upon a meeting
house. Arbitrary taxes were imposed, encroach
ments were made upon common lands
Tyranny. , x
as in older manorial times, and the writ
of habeas corpus was suspended. Dudley was
appointed censor of the press, and nothing was
allowed to be printed without his permission. All
the public records of the late New England gov
ernments were ordered to be brought to Boston,
whither it thus became necessary to make a tedious
journey in order to consult them. All deeds and
wills were required to be registered in Boston, and
excessive fees were charged for the registry. It
was proclaimed that all private titles to land were
to be ransacked, and that whoever wished to have
his title confirmed must pay a heavy quit-rent,
which under the circumstances amounted to black
mail. The General Court was abolished. The
power of taxation was taken from the town-meet
ings and lodged with the governor. Against this
crowning iniquity the town of Ipswich, led by its
sturdy pastor, John Wise, made protest. In re-
1 The quotation is from an unpublished letter of Rev. Robert
Ratcliffe to the Bishop of London, cited in an able article in the
Boston Herald, January 4, 1888. I have not seen the letter.

THE TYRANNY OF ANDROS. 271
sponse Mr. Wise was thrown into prison, fined
£50, and suspended from the ministry. A notable
and powerful character was this John Wise. One
of the broadest thinkers and most lucid Jonn wise 0f
writers of his time, he seems like a fore- Ipswich-
runner of the liberal Unitarian divines of the nine
teenth century. His "Vindication of the Govern
ment of the New England Churches," published in
1717, was a masterly exposition of the principles
of civil government, and became " a text book of
liberty for our Revolutionary fathers, containing
some of the notable expressions that are used in
the Declaration of Independence."
It was on the trial of Mr. Wise in October,
1687, that Dudley openly declared that the people
of New England had now no further privileges left
them than not to be sold for slaves. Such a state
of things in the valley of the Euphrates would not
have attracted comment ; the peasantry of central
Europe would have endured it until better in
structed ; but in an English community it could
not last long. If James II. had remained upon
the throne, New England would surely Fallof Jame3
have soon risen in rebellion against IL
Andros. But the mother country had by this
time come to repent the fresh lease of life which
she had granted to the Stuart dynasty after Crom
well's death. Tired of the disgraceful subservience
of her Court to the schemes of Louis XIV., tired
of fictitious plots and judicial murders, tired of
bloody assizes and declarations of indulgence and
all the strange devices of Stuart tyranny, England
endured the arrogance of James but three years,

272 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
and then drove him across the Channel, to get such
consolation as he might from his French paymaster
and patron. On the 4th of April, 1689, the youth
ful John Winslow brought to Boston the news of
the landing of the Prince of Orange in England.
For the space of two weeks there was quiet and
earnest deliberation among the citizens, as the suc
cess of the Prince's enterprise was not yet regarded
as assured. But all at once, on the morning of the
18th, the drums beat to arms, the signal-fire was
lighted on Beacon Hill, a meeting was held at the
Town-House, militia began to pour in from the
country, and Andros, summoned to sur-
in Boston, and render, was fain to beseech Mr. Willard
Andros, AprU and the other ministers to intercede for
him. But the ministers refused. Next
day the Castle was surrendered, the Rose frigate
riding in the harbour was seized and dismantled,
and Andros was arrested as he was trying to effect
his escape disguised in woman's clothes. Dudley
and the other agents of tyranny were also impris
oned, and thus the revolution was accomplished.
It marks the importance which the New England
colonies were beginning to attain, that, before the
Prince of Orange had fully secured the throne, he
issued a letter instructing the people of Boston to
preserve decorum and acquiesce yet a little longer
in the government of Andros, until more satisfac
tory arrangements could be made. But Increase
Mather, who was then in London on a mission in
behalf of New England, judiciously prevented this
letter of instructions from being sent. The zeal of
the people outstripped the cautious policy of the

THE TYRANNY OF ANDROS. 273
new sovereign, and provisional governments, in
accordance with the old charters, were at once set
up in the colonies lately ruled by Andros. Brad
street now in his eighty-seventh year was reinstated
as governor of Massachusetts. Five weeks after
this revolution in Boston the order to proclaim
King William and Queen Mary was received, amid
such rejoicings as had never before been seen in
that quiet town, for it was believed that self-gov
ernment would now be guaranteed to New England.
This hope was at least so far realized that from
the most formidable dangers which had threatened
it, New England was henceforth secured. The
struggle with the Stuarts was ended, and by this
second revolution within half a century
. iii- Effects of the
the crown had received a check from Revolution of
1689.
which it never recovered. There were
troubles yet in store for England, but no more
such outrages as the judicial murders of Russell
and Sidney. New England had still a stern ordeal
to go through, but never again was she to be so
trodden down and insulted as in the days of An
dros. The efforts of George III. to rule Eng
lishmen despotically were weak as compared with
those of the Stuarts. In his time England had
waxed strong enough to curb the tyrant, America
had waxed strong enough to defy and disown him.
After 1689 the Puritan no longer felt that his re
ligion was in danger, and there was a reasonable
prospect that charters solemnly granted him would
be held sacred. William III. was a sovereign of
modern type, from whom freedom of thought and
worship had nothing to fear. In his theology he

274 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
agreed, as a Dutch Calvinist, more nearly with the
Puritans than with the Church of England. At
the same time he had no great liking for so much
independence of thought and action as New Eng
land had exhibited. In the negotiations which
now definitely settled the affairs of this part of the
world, the intractable behaviour of Massachusetts
was borne in mind and contrasted with the some
what less irritating attitude of the smaller colonies.
It happened that the decree which annulled the
charters of Rhode Island and Connecticut had not
yet been formally enrolled. It was accordingly
treated as void, and the old charters were allowed
to remain in force. They were so liberal that no
change in them was needed at the time of the
Revolution, so that Connecticut was governed un
der its old charter until 1818, and Rhode Island
until 1842.
There was at this time a disposition on the part
of the British government to unite all the north
ern colonies under a single administration. The
French in Canada were fast becoming rivals to be
Need for union iearea 5 and the wonderful explorations
3™ co\! of La Salle, bringing the St. Lawrence
omes. jnto p0iiticai connection with the Mis
sissippi, had at length foreshadowed a New France
in the rear of all the English colonies, aiming at
the control of the centre of the continent and eager
to confine the English to the sea-board. Already
the relations of position which led to the great
Seven Years' War were beginning to shape them
selves ; and the conflict between France and Eng.
land actually broke out in 1689, as soon as Louis

THE TYRANNY OF ANDROS. 275
XIV.'s hired servant, James II. , was superseded
by William III. as king of England and head of a
Protestant league.
In view of this new state of affairs, it was
thought desirable to unite the northern English
colonies under one head, so far as possible, in order
to secure unity of military action. But natural
prejudices had to be considered. The policy of
James II. had aroused such bitter feeling in
America that William must needs move with cau
tion. Accordingly he did not seek to unite New
York with New England, and he did not think it
worth while to carry out the attack pi™,^,,
which James had only begun upon Con- ^ad?a a^
necticut and Rhode Island. As for Sachu-
New Hampshire, he seems to have been aettB'
restrained by what in the language of modern pol
itics would be called " pressure," brought to bear
by certain local interests.1 But in the case of
the little colony founded by the Pilgrims of the
Mayflower there was no obstacle. She was now
annexed to Massachusetts, which also received not
only Maine but even Acadia, just won from the
French ; so that, save for the short break at Ports
mouth, the coast of Massachusetts now reached all
the way from Martha's Vineyard to the Gulf of
St. Lawrence.
But along with this great territorial extension
there went some curtailment of the political priv
ileges of the colony. By the new charter of 1692
the right of the people to be governed by a legisla
ture of their own choosing was expressly confirmed.
1 Doyle, Puritan Colonies, ii. 379, 380.

276 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
The exclusive right of this legislature to impose
taxes was also confirmed. But henceforth no
qualification of church-membership, but only a
property qualification, was to be required of voters ;
the governor was to be appointed by the crown in
stead of being elected by the people ; and all laws
passed by the legislature were to be sent to Eng
land for royal approval. These features of the
new charter, — the extension, or if I may so call
it, the secularization of the franchise, the appoint-
Massachu- ment of the governor by the crown, and
Troyanov-8 *ne Power of veto which the crown ex-
mce" pressly reserved, — were grave restric
tions upon the independence which Massachusetts
had hitherto enjoyed. Henceforth her position was
to be like that of the other colonies with royal
governors. But her history did not thereby lose
its interest or significance, though it became, like
the history of most of the colonies, a dismal record
of irrepressible bickerings between the governor
appointed by the crown and the legislature elected
by the people. In the period that began in 1692
and ended in 1776, the movements of Massachu
setts, while restricted and hampered, were at the
same time forced into a wider orbit. She was
brought into political sympathy with Virginia.
While two generations of men were passing across
the scene, the political problems of Massachusetts
were assimilated to those of Virginia. In spite of
all the other differences, great as they were, there
was a likeness in the struggles between the popular
legislature and the royal governor which subordi.
nated them all. It was this similarity of experi.

THE TYRANNY OF ANDROS. 211
ence, during the eighteenth century, that brought
these two foremost colonies into cordial alliance
during the struggle against George III., and thus
made it possible to cement all the colonies together
in the mighty nation whose very name is fraught
with so high and earnest a lesson to mankind, —
the United States !
For such a far-reaching result, the temporary
humiliation of Massachusetts was a small price to
pay. But it was not until long after the accession
of William III. that things could be seen in these
grand outlines. With his coronation began the
struggle of seventy years between France and
England, far grander than the struggle between
Rome and Carthage, two thousand years earlier,
for primacy in the world, for the prerogative of
determining the future career of mankind. That
warfare, so fraught with meaning, was waged as
much upon American as upon European geeda f the
ground ; and while it continued, it was ^™ option
plainly for the interest of the British ^^ »°™.
government to pursue a conciliatory policy toward
its American colonies, for without their whole
hearted assistance it could have no hope of success.
As soon as the struggle was ended, and the French
power in the colonial world finally overthrown, the
perpetual quarrels between the popular legislatures
and the royal governors led immediately to the
Stamp Act and the other measures of the British
government that brought about the American rev
olution. People sometimes argue about that revo
lution as if it had no past behind it and was simply
the result of a discussion over abstract principles.

278 THE BEGINNINGS OF NEW ENGLAND.
We can now see that while the dispute involved
an abstract principle of fundamental importance to
mankind, it was at the same time for Americans
illustrated by memories sufficiently concrete and
real. James Otis in his prime was no further dis
tant from the tyranny of Andros than middle-aged
men of to-day are distant from the Missouri Com
promise. The sons of men cast into jail along with
John Wise may have stood silent in the moonlight
on Griffin's Wharf and looked on while the con
tents of the tea-chests were hurled into Boston
harbour. In the events we have here passed in
review, it may be seen, so plainly that he who runs
may read, how the spirit of 1776 was foreshad
owed in 1689.

BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTE.

An interesting account of the Barons' War and the meet
ing of the first House of Commons is given in Prothero's
Simon de Montfort, London, 1877. For Wyclif and the
Lollards, see Milman's Latin Christianity, vol. vii.
The ecclesiastical history of the Tudor period may best
be studied in the works of John Strype, to wit, Historical
Memorials, 6 vols. ; Annals of the Reformation, 7 vols. ;
Lives of Cranmer, Parker, Whitgift, etc., Oxford, 1812-28.
See also Burnet's History of the Reformation of the Church of
England, 3 vols., London, 1679-1715 ; Neal's History of
the Puritans, London, 1793 ; Tulloch, Leaders of the Refor
mation, Boston, 1859. A vast mass of interesting informa
tion is to be found in The Zurich Letters, comprising the
Correspondence of Several English, Bishops, and Others, with
some of the Helvetian Reformers, published by the Parker
Society, 4 vols., Cambridge, Eng., 1845-46. Hooker's
Ecclesiastical Polity was published in London, 1594 ; a new
edition, containing two additional books, the first complete
edition, was published in 1622.
For the general history of England in the seventeenth
century, there are two modern works which stand far above
all others, — Gardiner's History of England, 10 vols., Lon
don, 1883-84 ; and Masson's Life of Milton, narrated in con
nection with the Political, Ecclesiastical, and Literary History
of his Time, 6 vols., Cambridge, Eng., 1859-80. These
are books of truly oolossal erudition, and written in a spirit
of judicial fairness. Mr. Gardiner's ten volumes cover the
forty years from the accession of James I. to the beginning
of the Civil War, 1603-1643. Mr. Gardiner has lately pub
lished the first two volumes of his history of the Civil War,

280 BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTE.
and it is to be hoped that he will not stop until he reaches
the accession of William and Mary. Indeed, such books as
his ought never to stop. My friend and colleagne, Prof.
Hosmer, tells me that Mr. Gardiner is a lineal descendant
of Cromwell and Ireton. His little book, The Puritan Rev
olution, in the " Epochs of History " series, is extremely use
ful, and along with it one should read Airy's The English
Restoration and Louis XIV., in the same series, New York,
1889. The best biography of Cromwell is by Mr. Allanson
Picton, London, 1882 ; see also Frederic Harrison's Crom
well, London, 1888, an excellent little book. Hosmer's Young
Sir Henry Vane, Boston, 1888, should be read in the same
connection ; and one should not forget Carlyle's Cromwell.
See also Tulloch, English Puritanism and its Leaders, 1861,
and Rational Theology and Christian Philosophy in Eng
land in the Seventeenth Century, 1872 ; Skeats, History of the
Free Churches of England, London, 1868 ; Mountfield, The t
Church and Puritans, London, 1881. Dexter's Congrega
tionalism of the Last Three Hundred Years, New York, 1880,
is a work of monumental importance.
On the history of New England the best general works
are Palfrey, History of New England, 4 vols., Boston, 1858-
75 ; and Doyle, The English in America — The Puritan
Colonies, 2 vols., London, 1887. In point of scholarship Dr.
Palfrey's work is of the highest order, and it is written in
an interesting style. Its only shortcoming is that it deals
somewhat too leniently with the faults of the Puritan theoc
racy, and looks at things too exclusively from a Massachu
setts point of view. It is one of the best histories yet
written in America. Mr. Doyle's work is admirably fair and
impartial, and is based throughout upon a careful study of
original documents. The author is a Fellow of All Souls
College, Oxford, and has apparently made American history
his specialty. His work on the Puritan colonies is one of a
series which when completed will cover the whole story of
English colonization in America. I have looked in vain in
his pages for any remark or allusion indicating that he has
ever visited America, and am therefore inclined to think
that he has not done so. He now and then makes a slight

BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTE. 281
error such as would not be likely to be made by a native of
New England, but this is very seldom. The accuracy and
thoroughness of its research, its judicial temper, and its
philosophical spirit make Mr. Doyle's book in some respects
the best that has been written about New England.
Among original authorities we may begin by citing John
Smith's Description of New England, 1616, and New Eng
land's Trial, 1622, contained in Arber's new edition of
Smith's works, London, 1884. Bradford's narrative of the
founding of Plymouth was for a long time supposed to be
lost. Nathamel Morton's New England's Memorial, pub
lished in 1669, was little more than an abridgment of it.
After two centuries Bradford's manuscript was discovered,
and an excellent edition by Mr. Charles Deane was published
in the Massachusetts Historical Collections, 4th series, vol. iii.,
1856. Edward Winslow's Journal of the Proceedings of the
English Plantation settled at Plymouth, 1622, and Good News
from New England, 1624, are contained, with other valu
able materials, in Young's Chronicles of the Pilgrim Fathers,
Boston, 1844. See also Shurtleff and Pulsifer, Records of
Plymouth, 12 vols., ending with the annexation of the colony
to Massachusetts in 1692 ; Prince's Chronological History of
New England, ed. Drake, 1852 ; and in this connection
Hunter's Founders of New Plymouth, London, 1854 ; Steele's
Life of Brewster, Philadelphia, 1857 ; Goodwin's Pilgrim Re
public, Boston, 1887 ; Bacon's Genesis of the New England
Churches, New York, 1874 ; Baylies's Historical Memoir,
1830 ; Thaeher's History of the Town of Plymouth, 1832.
Sir Ferdinando Gorges wrote a Briefe Narration of the
Originall Undertakings of the advancement of plantations into
the parts of America, especially showing the beginning, progress,
and continuance of that of New England, London, 1658, con
tained in his grandson's collection entitled America Painted
to the Life. Thomas Morton, of Merrymount, gave his own
view of the situation in his New English Canaan, which has
been edited for the Prince Society, with great learning, by
C. F. Adams. Samuel Maverick also had his say in a valu
able pamphlet entitled A Description of New England, which
has only come to light since 1875 and has been edited by

282 BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTE.
Mr. Deane. Maverick is, of course, hostile to the Puritans.
See also Lechford's Plain Dealing in New England, ed. J. H.
Trumbull, 1867.
The earliest history of Massachusetts is by Wmthrop him
self, a work of priceless value. In 1790, nearly a century
and a half after the author's death, it was published at Hart
ford. The best edition is that of 1853. In 1869 a valuable
life of Winthrop was published by his descendant Robert
Winthrop. Hubbard's History of New England (Mass. Hist.
Coll., 2d series, vols, v., vi.) is drawn largely from Winthrop
and from Nathaniel Morton. There is much that is sugges
tive in William Wood's New England's Prospect, 1634, and
Edward Johnson's Wonder-working Providence of Zion's
Saviour in Neio England, 1654 ; the latter has been ably
edited by W. F. Poole, Andover, 1867. The records of the
Massachusetts government, from its founding in 1629 down
to the overthrow of the charter in 1684, were edited by Dr.
Shurtleff in 6 vols, quarto, 1853-54 ; and among the docu
ments in the British Record Office, published since 1855,
three volumes — Calendar of State Papers, Colonial America,
vol. i., 1574-1660 ; vol. v., 1661-1668 ; vol. vii., 1669 —
are especially useful. Of the later authorities the best is
Hutchinson's History of Massachusetts Bay, the first volume
of which, coming down to 1689, was published in Boston in
1764. The second volume, continuing the narrative to 1749,
was published in 1767. The third volume, coming down to
1774, was found among the illustrious author's MSS. after
his death, and was published in London in 1828. Hutchin
son had access to many valuable documents since lost, and
his sound judgment and critical acumen deserve the highest
praise. In 1769 he published a volume of Original Papers,
illustrating the period covered by the first volume of his his
tory. Many priceless documents perished in the shameful
sacking of his house by the Boston rioters, Aug. 26, 1765.
The second volume of Hutchinson's History was continued
to 1764 by G. R. Minot, 2 vols., 1798, and to 1820 by Alden
Bradford, 3 vols., 1822-29. Of recent works, the best is
Barry's History of Massachusetts, 3 vols., 1855-57. Many
original authorities are collected in Young's Chronicles of

BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTE. 283
Massachusetts, Boston, 1846. Cotton Mather's Magnolia
Christi Americana, London, 1702 (reprinted in 1820 and
1853), though crude and uncritical, is full of interest.
Many of the early Massachusetts documents relate to
Maine. Of later books, especial mention should be made
of Folsom's History of Saco and Biddeford, Saco, 1830
Willis's History of Portland, 2 vols., 1831-33 (2d ed. 1865)
Memorial Volume of the Popham Celebration, Portland, 1862
Chamberlain's Maine, Her Place in History, Augusta, 1877.
On New Hampshire the best general work is Belknap's
History of New Hampshire, 3 vols., Phila., 1784-92 ; the
appendix contains many original documents, and others are
to be found in the New Hampshire Historical Collections, 8
vols., 1824-66.
The Connecticut Colonial Records are edited by Dr. J. H.
Trumbull, 12 vols., 1850-82. The Connecticut Historical
Society's Collections, 1860-70, are of much value. The best
general work is Trumbull's History of Connecticut, 2 vols.,
Hartford, 1797. See also Stiles's Ancient Windsor, 2 vols.,
1859-63 ; Cothren's Ancient Woodbury, 3 vols., 1854-79.
Of the Pequot War we have accounts by three of the prin
cipal actors. Mason's History of the Pequod War is in the
Mass. Hist. Coll., 2d series, vol. viii. ; Underbill's News from
America is in the 3d series, vol. vi. ; and Lyon Gardiner's
narrative is in the 3d series, vol. iii. In the same volume
with Underhill is contained A True Relation of the late Bat
tle fought in New England between the English and the Pequod
Savages, by Philip Vincent, London, 1638. The New Haven
Colony Records are edited by C. J. Hoadly, 2 vols., Hart
ford, 1857-58. See also the New Haven Historical Society's
Papers, 3 vols., 1865-80 ; Lambert's History of New Haven,
1838 ; Atwater's History of New Haven, 1881 ; Levermore's
Republic of New Haven, Baltimore, 1886 ; Johnston's Con
necticut, Boston, 1887. The best account of the Blue Laws is
by J. H. Trumbull, The True Blue Laws of Connecticut and
New Haven, and the False Blue Laws invented by the Rev.
Samuel Peters, etc., Hartford, 1876. See also Hinman's
Blue Laws of New Haven Colony, Hartford, 1838 ; Barber's
History and Antiquities of New Haven, 1831 ; Peters's His-

284 BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTE.
tory of Connecticut, London, 1781. The story of the regi
cides is set forth in Stiles's History of the Three Judges [the
third being Colonel Dixwell], Hartford, 1794 ; see also the
Mather Papers in Mass. Hist. Coll., 4th series, vol. viii.
The Rhode Island Colonial Records are edited by J. R.
Bartlett, 7 vols., 1856-62. One of the best state histories
ever written is that of S. G. Arnold, History of the State of
Rhode Island and Providence Plantations, 2 vols., New York,
1859-60. Many valuable documents are reprinted in the
Rhode Island Historical Society's Collections. The History of
New England, with particular reference to the denomination
called Baptists, by Rev. Isaac Backus, 3 vols., 1777-96, has
much that is valuable relating to Rhode Island. The series
of Rhode Island Historical Tracts, issued since 1878 by Mr.
S. S. Rider, is of great merit. Biographies of Roger Wil
liams have been written by J. D. Knowles, 1834 ; by William
Gammell, 1845 ; and by Romeo Elton, 1852. Williams's
works have been republished by the Narragansett Club in
6 vols., 1866. The first volume contains the valuable Key
to the Indian Languages of America, edited by Dr. Trum
bull. Williams's views of religious liberty are set forth in
his Bloudy Tenent of Persecution, London, 1644 ; to which
John Cotton replied in The Bloudy Tenent washed and made
White in the Blood of the Lamb, London, 1647 ; Williams's
rejoinder was entitled The Bloudy Tenent made yet more
Bloudy through Mr. Cotton's attempt to Wash it White, London,
1652. The controversy was conducted on both sides with a
candour and courtesy rare in that age. The titles of Wil
liams's other principal works, George Fox digged out of his
Burrowes, Boston, 1676 ; Hireling Ministry none of Christ's,
London, 1652 ; and Christenings make not Christians, 1645 ;
sufficiently indicate their character. The last-named tract
was discovered in the British Museum by Dr. Dexter and
edited by him in Rider's Tracts, No. xiv., 1881. The treat
ment of Roger Williams by the government of Massa
chusetts is thoroughly discussed in Dexter's As to Roger
Williams, Boston, 1876. See also G. E. Ellis on " The
Treatment of Intruders and Dissentients by the Founders
of Massachusetts," in Lowell Lectures, Boston, 1869.

BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTE. 285
The case of Mrs. Hutchinson is treated, from a hostile
and somewhat truculent point of view, in Thomas Welde's
pamphlet entitled A Short Story of the Rise, Reign, and Ruin
of Antinomians, Familists, and Libertines that infected the
Churches of New England, London, 1644. It was answered
in an anonymous pamphlet entitled Mercurius Americanus,
republished for the Prince Society, Boston, 1876, with prefa
tory notice by C. H. Bell. Cotton's view of the theocracy
may be seen in his Milk for Babes, drawn out of the Breasts
of both Testaments, London, 1646 ; Keyes of the Kingdom of
Heaven; and Way of the Congregational Churches Cleared,
London, 1648. See also Thomas Hooker's Survey of the
Summe of Church Discipline, London, 1648. The intolerant
spirit of the time finds quaint and forcible expression in
Nathaniel Ward's satirical book, The Simple Cobbler of Ag-
gawam, 1647.
For the Gorton controversy the best original authorities
are his own book entitled Simplicitie's Defence against Seven-
headed Polity, London, 1646 ; and Winslow's answer en
titled Hypocracie Unmasked, London, 1646. See also
Mackie's Life of Samuel Gorton, Boston, 1845, and Bray-
ton's Defence of Samuel Gorton, in Rider's Tracts, No. xvii.
For the early history of the Quakers, see Robert Bar
clay's Inner Life cf the Religious Societies of the Common
wealth, London, 1876, — an admirable book. See also New
England a Degenerate Plant, 1659 ; Bishop's New England
judged by the Spirit of the Lord, 1661 ; Sewel's History of the
Quakers, 1722 ; Besse's Sufferings of the Quakers, 1753 ;
The Popish Inquisition newly erected in New England, Lon
don, 1659 ; The Secret Works of a Cruel People made Mani
fest, 1659 ; and the pamphlet of the martyrs Stevenson and
Robinson, entitled A Call from Death to Life, 1660. John
Norton's view of the case was presented in his book, The
Heart of New England Rent at the Blasphemies of the Present
Generation, London, 1660. See also J. S. Pike's New Puri
tan, New York, 1879 ; Hallowell's Pioneer Quakers, Boston,
1887; and his Quaker Invasion of Massachusetts, Boston,
1883 ; Brooks Adams, The Emancipation of Massachusetts,
Boston, 1887 ; Ellis, The Puritan Age and Rule, Boston,
1888.

286 BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTE.
Some additional light upon the theocratic idea may be
found in a treatise by the apostle Eliot, The Christian Com
monwealth ; or, the Civil Polity of the Rising Kingdom of
Jesus Christ, London, 1659. An account of Eliot's mission
ary work is given in The Day breaking, if not the Sun rising,
of the Gospel with the Indians in New England, London,
1647 ; and The Glorious Progress of the Gospel amongst the
Indians in New England, 1649. See also Shepard's Clear
Sunshine of the Gospel breaking forth upon the Indians, 1648 ;
&nd Whitfield's Light appearing more and more towards the
Perfect Day, 1651.
The principal authority for Philip's war is Hubbard's
Present State of New England, being a Narrative of the Trou
bles with the Indians, 1677. Church's Entertaining Passages
relating to Philip's War, published in 1716, and republished
in 1865, with notes by Mr. Dexter, is a charming book. See
also Mrs. Rowlandson's True History, Cambridge, Mass.,
1682 ; Mather's Brief History of the War, 1676 ; Drake's Old
Indian Chronicle, Boston, 1836 ; Gookin's Historical Collec
tions of the Indians in New England, 1674 ; and Account of
the Doings and Sufferings of the Christian Indians, in Archm-
ologia Americana, vol. ii. Batten's Journal is the diary of
a, citizen of Boston, sent to England, and i? now in MS.-
among the Colonial Papers. Mrs. Mary Pray's letter (Oct.
20, 1675) is in Mass. Hist. Coll., 5th series, vol. i. p. 105.
The great storehouse of information for the Andros period
is the Andros Tracts, 3 vols., edited for the Prince Society
by W. H. Whitmore. See also Sewall's Diary, Mass. Hist.
Coll., 5th series, vols, v.-viii. Sewall has been appropri
ately called the Puritan Pepys. His book is a mirror of
the state of society in Massachusetts at the time when it
was beginning to be felt that the old theocratic idea had
been tried in the balance and found wanting. There is a
wonderful charm in such a book. It makes one feel as if
one had really " been there " and taken part in the homely
scenes, full of human interest, which it so naively portrays.
Anne Bradstreet's works have been edited by J. H. Ellis,
Charlestown, 1867.
For further references and elaborate bibliographical dis-

BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTE. 287
cussions, see Winsor's Narrative and Critical History of
America, vol. iii. ; and his Memorial History of Boston, 4
vols., Boston, 1880. There is a good account of the princi
pal New England writers of the seventeenth century, with
illustrative extracts, in Tyler's History of American Litera
ture, 2 vols., New York, 1878. For extracts see also the first
two volumes of Stedman and Hutchinson's Library of Amer
ican Literature, New York, 1888.
In conclusion I would observe that town histories, though
seldom written in a philosophical spirit and apt to be quite
amorphous in structure, are a mine of wealth for the philo
sophic student of history.

INDEX.

Abolitionists and Republicans, 67.
Acadia, 275.
Achaian league, 22.
Adams, C. F., 113 note.
Adams, Samuel, 105, 117, 175, 246.
Adoption, absorption of savage tribes
by, 209.
Aitolian league, 22.
Albigenses, 40-42, 46.
Alexander (Wamsutta), 211.
Alexandria, 6.
Alfred, '18.
Allyn, John, 268.
Alsace, 263.
Anabaptists, 182.
Andover, 233.
Andros, Sir E., 267-273 ; Lady, 269.
Antinomians, 117-120, 135, 154, 163.
167, 248.
Appleton, Major Samuel, 223.
Aquedneck, 120, 166.
Aquinas, 19.
Architecture, Gothic, 19.
Armada, the Invincible, 61, 70, 102.
Armagnacs, 35.
Arminius, 24.
Arnold, Benedict, governor of Rhode
Island, 167.
Arnold, Matthew, 147.
Arnold, William, 167.
Artaxerx.es, 14.
Arundel, Earl of, 114.
Ashawonks, squaw sachem, 235.
Assistants, Board of, 96, 105, 124 ; dis-
agreement with deputies, 106-108,
173, 187, 188.
Assowamsett Pond, 214.
Assyria, 10, 12, 21.
Atheism, charges of, 91.
Attika, 12.
Augustine, Bp. of Hippo, 5.
Augustine, missionary to Britain, 27.
Austerfield, 64.
Austin, Anne, 183.
Avignon, exile of popes at, 4, 34.
Bacon, Fancis, Lord, 103.
Bacon, Sir Nicholas, 61.
Bacon, Roger, 20.
Barons' "War, 31.
Batten's journal, 220.
Baxter, Richard, 115.

Beers, Captain, 219.
Bellingham, Richard, 183.
Benedict, St., 18.
Bermudas, 161.
Bible, Eliot's, 203.
Bible, English version of, 53-55.
Black, Joseph, 152.
Blackstone, William, 92, 104.
Blair education bill, 14.
Blake, Robert, 116.
Bloody Brook, 219, 220, 221.
Blue Laws, 136.
Bogomilians, 39.
Bohemia, 42.
Boniface, St., 18.
Bosnia, 42.
Boston, Lincolnshire, 63, 110.
Boston, Mass., 63, 104, 117, 168, 172;
population in 1680, 258.
Bosworth, battle of, 99.
Botolph's, St., 110.
Braddock's defeat, 206.
Bradford, William, 72, 73, 80, 83, 85,
90, 91.
Bradford, William, the younger, 220,
223.
Bradstreet, Anne, 261.
Bradstreet, Simon, 220, 260, 261, 273.
Branford, 136.
Brewster, WilUam, 68, 71, 73, SO, 82.
Bridgewater, 233.
Britain, English conquest of, 26, 28.
Brookfield, 215-217, 230.
Brown, Robert, 66-68.
Bryce, James, 3.
Buckingham, Duke of, 89, 97, 98.
Buckle, H. T-, 152.
Bunyan, John, 51, 115, 244.
Burgundians, French party, 35.
Burgundians, tribe, 26.
Burleigh, Lord, 61, 66, 68.
Burns, Robert, 152.
Byzantine empire, 2.
Caesar, C. J.,5, 8, 19,28.
Calverts in Maryland, 155.
Calvin, John, 57-59, 61.
Cambridge, Eng. , 62, 110 ; meeting of
Puritans at, 101.
Cambridge, Mass. (Newtown, 104,
105, 124, 125,) 126 ; name changed,
110.

290

INDEX.

Cambridge Platform, 177.
Canonchet, 221-225, 234.
Canonicus, 85.
Cape Ann, 78, 92.
Cape Cod, 76, 78, 81.
Cape Elizabeth, 78.
Carlisle, Earl of, 113.
Castle Island. 113, 272.
Cathari, 39-42, 43.
Catholics excluded from House of
Commons, 248 ; relations with
Quakers, 191.
Cavendish, Thomas, 61.
Century, fifth, 27 ; sixth, 27 ; thir
teenth, 19, 20, 30, 33, 38-40 ; four
teenth, 35 ; fifteenth, 35 ; seven
teenth, 7, 36.
Champlain's defeat of the Mohawks,
206.
Charles the Great, 4, 18, 29.
Charles!., 50, 95, 97-100, 111-113, 137,
160, 161, 197, 246, 266.
Charles II., 120, 191, 194, 195, 196,
198, 247, 253, 260, 262, 263, 264, 266,
267.
Charles river, 78, 94.
Charlestown, 104, 113.
Charter granted to Company of Massa
chusetts Bay, 96, 100 ; transferred
to New England, 102 ; threatened
by Charles I., 113 ; by Long Parlia
ment, 161 ; by the royal commis
sioners, 196 ; annulled by Charles
II., 265 ; effects of annulling it,
266 ; new one granted by William
and Mary, 267.
Charter Oak, 268.
Charters of English towns attacked by
Charles II., 264.
Chaucer, Geoffrey, 20.
Chauncey, Charles, 251.
Cheeshahteaumuck, Caleb, 202.
Chelmsford, 233.
Chicago, 208.
Child, Robert, 175-177, 192.
Chlodwig, King of the Franks, 3.
Christendom, 13.
Christianity destroyed in Britain, 27.
Christison, Wenlock, 189, 190, 197.
Church, Benjamin, 222, 225, 229, 235,
237.
Cicero, M. T., 5.
Civil War in America, 22, 100, note.
Civilis, 24.
Clarke, John, 162.
Claverhouse, John, 269.
Cleveland, Grover, 24, 31.
Climate of New England, 77.
Coke, Sir E., 99, 114.
Coligny, Gaspard, 58.
College, Stephen, 263.
Commons, first House of, 31 ; extra
ordinary scenes in, 98, 99.
Conant, Roger, 92, 93, 95.
Concord, Indian village near, 204.
Confederacy, the New England, 153-
198 ; its constitution, 158 ; its weak

ness, 159 ; its formation involved a
tacit assumption of sovereignty,
160, 192 ; weakened by suppression
of New Haven, 198.
Congregationalism and self-govern
ment, 59.
Congress, 28.
Coimecticut, founding of, 122-128,
249 ; its place in American history,
128 ; obtains a charter, 195 ; partly
rescinded, 268 ; hidden, 268 ; re
stored, 274.
Cooper, J. F., 218.
Corporate responsibility, 173, 220.
Cortes, Spanish, 33.
Cotton, John, 110, 117, 118, 124, 135,
136, 151, 178, 179.
Council for New England, 89, 112.
County meetings, 28.
Covenant of grace and of works, 118-
Coventry, Henry, 256.
Coverdale, Miles, 55.
Cranfield, Edward, 259.
Cromwell, Oliver, 8, 45, 47, 51, 55, 58,
62, 117, 137, 139, 160, 162, 185, 186,
193, 228, 256, 259, 271.
Cross of St. George cut out of the flag
by Endicott, 116.
Cushing, F. H., 208.
Cuttyhunk, 76.
Danforth, Thomas, 220.
Danish invasions of England, 29.
Dante, 5, 20.
Dark Ages, 18.
Dartmouth, Eng., 81.
Dartmouth, Mass., massacre at, 215.
Davenport, John, 135, 136, 194, 196,
197, 251.
Davison, Sir W., 68.
Death, savage's idea of, 211.
Death penalty, 187.
Deerfield, 217, 219.
De Forest's History of the Indians in
Connecticut, 171, 210, notes.
Delaware Indians, 206.
Delegated power, 16, 22.
Delft haven, 80.
Democracy discussed between Win
throp and Hooker, 124.
Denison, George, defeats and captures
Canonchet, 234.
Deputies, chamber of, 106 ; disagree
ments with Board of Assistants,
106-108, 173, 187, 188.
Descartes, Rene", 151.
Despotism the weakest form of gov
ernment, 23.
Devonshire, 63. •
Digges, Sir Dudley, 99.
Diocletian, 17.
Dorchester, Eng., 93.
Dorchester, Mass., 104, 113, 124, 125.
126.
Dorchester adventurers, 92.
Dorset, 63, 92.
Dover, N. H., 119,259.

INDEX.

291

Doyle, J. A., 172, 185, 255, 251? notes.
Drake, SirF., 61.
Dudley, Lord Guilford, 103.
Dudley, Joseph, 257, 258, 261, 262,
265, 267, 270, 271, 272.
Dudley, Robert, Earl of Leicester, 103,
258.
Dudley, Thomas, 102, 103, 257.
Dunbar, battle of, 140, 193.
Dunster, Henry, 203.
Dutch. 60, 70, 122, 123, 155, 162, 196.
Dyer, Mary, 188, 189, 191.
East Anglia, heresy in, 62 ; contribu
tions to the Puritan exodus, 63, 141 ;
familiar look to a New Englander,
64.
East Greenwich, manor of, 174.
Eaton, Theophilus, 134.
Ecclesiastical beginnings of Massa
chusetts, 108, 109.
"Ecclesiastical Polity," by Richard
Hooker, 65.
Edinburgh, 153.
Education, popular, 151.
Edward I., 19, 44.
Edward II., 40.
Edward III., 44.
Edward IV., 64.
Eliot, Sir John, 99, 100.
Eliot, John, apostle, 202-205, 208-210,
237.
Elizabeth, 44, 57, 59-61, 65-68, 70;
conversation with a lady of the
court, 60.
Elizabeth Islands, 76.
Emmanuel College, 110, 261.
Empire, Holy Roman, 2-5, 19, 34.
Endicott, John, 94, 95, 97, 104, 108,
115, 116, 151, 179, 183, 184, 137, 188,
190, 191, 197.
England, importance of part played
by her in seventeenth century, 37,
50-51 ; union with Scotland, 21 ;
church of, 44.
English method of nation-making, 20-
46 ; nature of Puritan exodus, 140.
Episcopal worship forbidden in Massa
chusetts, 108, 260; introduced by
Andros, 268, 269.
Episcopius, 73.
Erasmus, 65.
Essex, county of, 63.
Essex, Earl of, 88.
Ethical nature of the Puritan ideal,
147.
Exeter, N. H., 119, 259.
Fairfax, Sir T., 131.
Fairfield, 133.
Familists, 164.
Federal Convention of 1788, 128.
Federalism, pacific tendency of, 21, 22.
Ferdinand of Aragon, 5, 57.
Feudalism, its destruction, 35.
Filmer, Sir R., 264.
Fisher, Mary, 183, 184.

Fleet street, tumult in, 67.
Florida, Huguenots massacred in, 61,
79.
Fortune, ship, 83.
Fox, George, 179.
France, 36; damaged by persecution
of Albigenses and Huguenots, 40, 42,
46, 47 ; failure of Reformation in, 47.
Francis of Assisi, 20-38.
Francis II., last Roman emperor, 5.
Franklin, Benjamin, 24.
Franks, 26.
Frederick II. of Prussia, 48.
Frederick II., Roman emperor, 19, 34.
Freeman, E. A., 19.
French in America, 154, 274, 277.
French Revolution, 48, 51.
Gardiner, Sir Christopher, 104, 109.
Gardiner, S. R., 60, 97, 100, notes.
Gauls, 21.
Geneva, 57.
George III., 273, 277.
Germanic invasions of Roman empire.
17-28.
Gettysburg, battle of, 51.
Gilbert, Sir H., 61.
Gladstone, W. E., 31.
Goffe, WilUam, 193, 217, 218, 257.
Gookin, Daniel, 221.
Gorges, Sir Ferdinando, 88, 89, 90, 92,
94, 95, 104, 109, 112, 113, 119, 154,
155, 156, 254, 255, 259.
Gorges, Ferdinando, the younger, 260.
Gorges, John, 95, 104.
Gorges, Robert, 95.
Gorton, Samuel, 162-174, 192.
Gortonoges, 170.
Gosnold, Bartholomew, 76.
Goths, 26.
Grafton, Indian village near, 204.
Grants of territory, conflicting, 90,
92, 94, 95, 104.
Greek cities, 12, 22, 248.
Green, J. R., 69, note.
Gregory of Tours, 19.
Gregory the Great, 18.
Gregory VII., 38.
Gregory XI., 43.
Grey, Lady Jane, 103.
Grindal, Edmund, 61.
Groton, 233.
Guiana, 79.
Guises, 46, 56, 61.
Gustavus, Adolphus, 101.
Hadley, 193, 233 ; mysterious strangel
at, 217, 218.
Halfway covenant, 250, 252.
Hamilton, Alexander, 124.
Hamilton, Marquis of, 112.
Hampden, John, 51, 105, 193.
Hampton, N. H., 119, 259.
Hampton Court, conference at, 70-71
Hardscrabble, 123.
Hartford, 122, 126-128, 170, 209.
Harvard, John, 110.

292

INDEX.

Harrard College, 110, 117, 130, 175.
Hatfield, 217, 233.
Hawkins, Sir John, 61.
Hell-huddle, 123.
Hengest, 27.
Henry IV. (England), 41.
Henry VII., 35, 266.
Henry VIII., 43, 44, 56.
Henry III. {France), 46.
Henry IV., 46.
Hertfordshire, 135.
Higginson, Francis, 96, 108.
High Commission, court of, 109.
Hildebrand, 38.
History, changes in the study of, 2, 9.
Hobbes, Thomas, 151.
Holmes, William, 122.
Holland, English exiles in, 68, 73, 74,
135 ; toleration in, 74.
Hooker, Richard, 65.
Hooker, Thomas, 110, 124, 126, 127,
128 136
Hubbard, William, 211, 218, 229, 234,
257.
Hudson river, 94.
Huguenots, 47, 60, 70, 74, 80, 93, 101,
139 ; in Florida, 61, 79 ; in Massa
chusetts, 141.
Hull, 63.
Humane feelings allowed to develop
through decline of war, 100, note.
227.
Hume, David, 152.
Hunter, John, 152.
Hutchinson, Anne, 117-120, 166, 188.
Hutchinson, Edward, 215.
Hutchinson, Thomas, 120, 218, 258.
Hutton, James, 152.
" Incorruptible Key," Gorton's, 165,
note.
Indians, 26, 155 ; their dealings with
the settlers, 199-210 ; missionary
work, 201-204, 208-210; sold into
slavery, 237.
Innocent III., 19, 34, 40, 42.
Inquisition, 40-42, 153.
Inquisitorial administration of justice,
250.
Ipswich, 63, 270.
Iroquois league, 121, 206.
Isabella the Catholic, 57.
Italy consolidated under Rome, 12,
Jabberwok, 137.
James I., 41, 52, 68-71, 80, 87, 89, 97,
161.
James IL, 191, 2G7, 271, 272, 275.
James the Printer, 238.
Jamestown, 77, 105.
Jefferson, Thomas, 24, 117, 124, 246.
Jeffreys, George, 264.
Jesus College, 202.
Jinghis Khan, 50.
John, King of England, 31,
Johnson, Edward, 172, 243.
Johnston, Alexander, 128, note.

Jury trial abandoned in the New
Haven colony, 136, 250.
Justinian, 2.
Keayne, Robert, and his pig, 106-108,
Kennebec river, 76, 77, 94.
Kent, 135.
Keroualle, Louise de, 263.
Kings have become harmless, 32.
King's Chapel founded, 269.
" King's Missive," the, 191.
Kingdoms, modern growth of, 34-36.
Kirk, the Scotch, 153.
Kirke, Percy, 266, 267.
Knighton, Henry, 42.
Knox, John, 55.
Kynaxa, battle of, 10.
Lancaster, 215, 216, 230.
La Salle, 274.
Latimer, Hugh, 44, 45, 51, 55.
Laud, William, 109, 114, 115, 135.
Leddra, William, 189.
Lenox, Earl of, 89.
LeoIH.,4.
Leverett, John, 215, 255, 256, 260.
Levermore, C. H., 187, note.
Lewes, battle of, 31.
Leyden, home of the Pilgrims, 73.
Liberty, religious, not the object of
the Puritan exodus, 144-146.
Light, supernatural or inward, 118,
180.
Locke, John, 48, 51.
Lollards, 42-46, 52-56.
London Company, 75, 79, 81, 89.
Londonderry, N. H. , 141.
Long Parliament, 137.
Longland, John, 62.
Lords of Trade, 255.
Lorraine, 263.
Lothrop, Captain, 217, 219.
Louis IX., 19.
Louis XII., 5.
Louis XIIL, 98.
Louis XIV., 36, 47, 80, 262, 263, 271,
275.
Lucullus's villa, 1.
Luther, Martin, 44, 58, 65.
Lydians, 21.
Lyell, Sir C, 152.
Magna Charta, 12, 127, note.
Mahomet II. , 48.
Mahomet ILL, 184.
Manichseans, 39.
Map of New England, Smith's, 78
Marathon, 139.
Marblehead, 221.
Marlborough, 233.
Marston Moor, 51.
Martha's "Vineyard, 76, 201, 204, 275.
Mary Stuart, 61.
Mary Tudor, 41, 57.
Mason, John, captain in Pequot war,
131-133.
Mason, John, grantee of lands in the

INDEX.

293

Piscataqua country, 94, 112, 113,
119, 154, 254, 255, 259.
Mason, Robert, 255.
Massachusetts annexes New Hamp
shire towns, 154, 259, and Maine,
259 ; population in 1643, 159 ; and
in 1680, 258 ; brought into sympa
thy with Virginia, 276.
Massachusetts Bay, Company of, 96.
Massa-wachusetts, or " At-the-great
HiU " tribe, 120.
Massasoit, 84, 116, 120, 211.
Mather, Cotton, charges against the
Quakers, 181 ; remark about the
theocratic idea, 197.
Mather, Increase, 218, 219, 237, 251,
257, 265, 272.
Maverick, Samuel, 90, 92, 104, 175,
176, 192, 196.
Mayflower, ship, 49, 61, 81, 90; the
compact drawn up in her cabin, 127,
note.
Mayhew, Thomas, 201.
Mazzini, 51.
Medfleld, 233.
Media, 12.
Melanchthon, 58.
Melville, Andrew, 69.
Mendon, 215, 233, 238.
Merrimack river, 94, 259.
Merrymount, 90, 91, 104, 112.
Miantonomo, 68-72, 207, 221.
Middle class in England, 30.
Middleborough, 214, 215, 233.
Milford, 135, 136.
Milman, H. H., 43, 181, notes.
Milton, John, 48, 51, 55, 185, 228, 264.
Mohawks, 121, 122, 133, 206.
Mohegans, 121, 122, 131, 133, 169-172,
207, 209, 212, 234.
Monadnock, 121.
Monmouth, Duke of, 100, 200, 267.
Montesquieu, 51.
Montfort, Simon de, 31-33.
Moors in Spain, 11, 37.
Morton, Thomas, 90, 91, 104, 109,
174.
Mount Hope, 214, 215.
Munster, 182.
"Mugwump " in Eliot's Bible, 203.
Nantes, Edict of, 47, 141.
Nantasket, 91.
Nantucket, 201, 204.
Napoleon, 48.
Narragansetts, 85, 121, 131, 133, 168-
172, 207, 209, 212, 221-226, 234.
Naseby, battle of, 31, 51, 193.
Natick, Indian village, 204, 213.
Nation-making, 7, 37.
Naumkeag, 93, 95.
Navigation laws, 254, 256.
Netherlands, 33.
New Amsterdam, 123, 196.
Newark founded, 196.
" New England's Jonas cast up at
London," 177.

" New England's Salamander discov
ered," 177.
New Hampshire, beginnings of, 120,
154, 259, 275.
New Haven colony, 134-137 ; annexed
to Connecticut, 192-196.
Newhouse, Thomas. 182.
New Netherlands, 122.
Newport, R. I., 120, 157, 166.
New South Church, 252.
Newtown, see Cambridge, Mass.
Nichewaug, 121.
Nichols, Richard, 193, 196, 259.
Nipmucks, 121, 209, 212, 215, 219, 225,
230 233
Noddie's island, 92, 176.
Norfolk, 63.
Norman conquest of England, 30.
North, Roger, 264.
North Virginia, 75-78.
Northampton, 233.
Norton, John, 179, 180, 251, 261.
Norwich, scene of Miantonomo's de
feat 169.
Nyantics, 121, 131.
Odovakar, 1, 3, 48.
Oldham, John, 104, 125, 129.
" Old Mortality," 269.
Old South Church, 182, 231, 252, 265,
269.
Orestes, 1.
Oriental method of nation-making, 9-
11, 14, 21.
Otis, James, 278.
Oxford university, 62, 110, 264 ; par
liament, 263.
Paine, Thomas, 245.
Palfrey, J. G., 140, 201, note.
Papacy, 3, 34.
Parkman, F., 206, note, 212.
Parliament turned out of doors by
Charles I. ; creates a board of com
missioners for superintending colo
nial affairs, 157 ; question as to its
authority over the colonies, 160-162,
174, 175.
Paulicians, 39.
Pawtuxet, 166, 167, 168, 234.
Pembroke, Earl of, 89.
Penn, 'William, 191, 206.
Pennsylvania, why so long unmolested
by Indians, 205-206.
Penobscot river, 78.
Pension jobbery, 14.
Pequots, 121, 122, 128-133, 168, 199,
204, 207, 210.
Persecuting spirit, origin of, 163.
Persecution, mildness of, in England,
40^3.
Persia, 10, 12, 21,
Petition of Right, 98, 99.
Peters, Rev. Samuel, 136, 137.
"Peveril of the Peak," 218.
Philip Augustus, 40.
Philip II., of Spain, 36, 57, 61.

294

INDEX.

Philip (Metacom), 211-216, 230-233,
235-237, 239, 240 ; his son, 232, 236.
Picton, J. A., 100, note.
Pierce, Captain, 234.
Pierson, Abraham, 196.
Pig, Keayne's, 106-108.
Pilgrims at Leyden, 73, 79.
Pine-tree shillings, 192, 254.
Piscataqua river, 91, 94, 121, 259.
Pitt, William, 48.
Plymouth Company, 75, 77, 82, 86, 89.
Plymouth colony, 78, 82, 105 ; popula
tion of, 86 ; annexed to Massachu
setts, 275.
Podunks, 209.
Point Judith, 121.
Pokanokets, see Wampanoags.
Pontiac's war, 206, 212.
Popham colony, 77, 81.
Portsmouth, N. H., 119, 259.
Portsmouth, R. I., 120, 157, 166.
Portland, Oregon, 140.
Praemunire, 43.
Pray, Mary, 221.
Praying Indians, 204, 221, 238.
Presbyterian cabal, 162, 175-177.
Presbyterianism, 66, 69, 71.
Pride's Purge, 177.
Primitive society, 8.
Protective tariffs, 14, 32.
Protestantism, beginnings of, 37-42.
Providence, R. I., 116, 158, 166, 167,
169, 172.
Puritanism as a militant force, 7, 45,
46, 51, 59, 243-247.
Pym, John, 51.
Quakers, 162, 173 ; their opinions,
179-181 ; persecuted in Boston,
182-190, 221 ; they win the victory,
190, 197 ; why Charles II. defended
them, 191 ; their relations to the
Indians, 205, 206.
Quincy, Josiah, 111, note.
Quinnipiack, 135.
Quinsigamond, 121.
Raleigh, Sir W., 76, 103.
Randolph, Edward, 218, 255-258, 262,
265.
Ratcliffe, Robert, 270, note.
Rationalistic spirit among the Puri
tans of New England and Scotland,
150-153.
Redemptioners, 142.
Reformation in England, 42-57.
Regicide judges, 192-194, 218, 257.
ReligiouB liberty not the motive of
the Puritan exodus, 144-146.
Representation, no taxation without,
31, 105.
Representative assemblies unknown
to the ancients, 16, 22 ; found gene
rally among the Teutonic tribes,
25 ; die out on the continent of Eu
rope, 33.
Republicans and abolitionists, 67.

Republics, fallacy of the notion that
they must be small, 23.
Respectable character of the migra
tion to New England, 141.
Restitution, edict of, 101.
Rhode Island, toleration in, 154, 156 ;
asks for a charter, 157 ; noble atti
tude with reference to Quakers,
184-186; obtains a charter, 196; it is
partly rescinded, 268 ; restored, 274.
Ribault, Jean, 61.
Rich, Sir N., 99.
Richard IL, 42, 71.
Roanoke island, 111.
Robinson, John, 72, 73, 81, 108.
Robinson, William, 188.
Robsart, Amy, 103.
Rochelle, fall of, 93, 101.
Roman church, 18-20, 38.
Roman empire, when did it come to
an end, 1-5, 48, 49.
Roman method of nation-making, 12-
21.
Romulus Augustus, 1.
Roses, war of the, 35, 55, 99.
Rousseau, J. J. , 51.
Rowlandson, Joseph, 230.
Rowlandson, Mary, 231-233, 239.
Royal Society founded, 195.
Rumford, Count, 5.
Russell, Lord William, 264, 273.
Sachem's Plain, 171.
St. Giles's Church, Edinburgh, 113.
Salem, Mass., 93, 95, 104, 108, 112, 115,
116, 245.
Salem, Oregon, 140.
Sandys, Sir E., 79.
Sassacus, 128-130, 132, 133, 212.
Sausamon, 213, 214.
Savoy, 42, 47.
Say and Sele, Lord, 123.
Saybrook, 123, 125.
Scituate, 176, 233.
Scotland, great achievements of, 152.
Scott, Sir W., 123, 152, 218, 269.
Scottish prisoners sent to Boston, 140.
Scrooby, 64, 71.
Sedgmoor, battle of, 99.
Separatists, 66-68, 72, 108.
Servetus, Michael, 58.
Shaftesbury, Lord, 263.
Shakespeare, William, 89.
Shawmut peninsula, 92.
Shawomet, 168-174.
Sheldon, George, 218, note.
Shepard, ThomaB, 203.
Sherman, Mrs., and the stray pig, 106-
108.
Shillings, pine-tree, 192, 254.
Shipmoney, 113.
Sidney, Algernon, 48, 51, 246, 264. 273
Sigismund, Roman emperor, 38.
Skelton, Samuel, 108.
Slavery, 14.
Smith, Adam, 152.
Smith, John, 77-79, 82, 88.

INDEX.

295

Solemn League and Covenant, 113.
Somerset, 63.
Southampton, 81.
Southampton, Earl of, 89.
Southold, L. I., 136.
Spain, 11, 36, 37.
Speedwell, ship, 80, 81.
Spoils system, 14.
Springfield, 126, 215, 220, 233.
Stagnation of the stream of human
Ufe, 17.
Stamford, 120, 136.
Stamp Act congress, 32.
Standish, MUes, 80, 82, 84.
States General, 33.
Steele, A., 74, note.
Stein, 51.
Stevenson, Marmaduke, 188.
Stiles, Ezra, 174, note.
Stirling, Earl of, 113.
Stoughton, WiUiam, 143, 220.
Strafford, Earl of, 109, 116, 119.
Stubbs, WUliam, 25.
Sudbury, 233.
Suevi, 26.
Suffolk, 63.
Suffrage restricted to church mem
bers, in Massachusetts, 109, 123, 175,
194, 195, 248-252, 254, 258, 276 ; in
New Haven, 136, 196, 250.
Susquehannocks, 86, 205.
Swanzey, massacre at, 214, 238.
Switzerland, 21, 33.
Talcott, Major, completes the over
throw of the Narragansetts, 234.
Tamerlane, 50.
Tarratines, 121, 239.
Taunton, 213, 215, 235.
Tel-el-Kebir, 11.
Templars, 40.
Teutonic institutions less modified in
England than in Germany, 29.
TexaB seed-bill, 24.
Thames river, Conn., 121, 130.
Thanksgiving, 83.
Theocratic ideal of the Puritans, 146 ;
broken down, 197 ; its services to
pohtical Hberty, 247.
Thirty Tears War, 101.
Thompson, Benjamin, 5.
TUly, Count, 133.
Toleration, Dudley's verses on, 103 ;
Roger WiUiams's theory of, 115 ;
views of Cotton and Winthrop, 178 ;
true theory expressed by Vane, 185.
Torquemada, 38, 245.
Torture, how the Indian likes to en
joy it, 231.
Toryism in New England, birth of,
267.
Toulouse, Counts of, 40.
Tours, battle of, 139.
Town-meetings, 27.
Trajan, 19.
Trastamare, feuds of the, 35.
Treat, Robert, 219, 223, 224, 268.

Turgot, 51.
Turks, 11, 14.
Turner, Captain, defeatB the Nip
mucks, 234.
Tyndall, WiUiam, 55.
Tyranny and insurrection in Boston,
270-273.
Uncas, 131, 169-172, 209, 210.
Underhill, John, 118, 131-133.
Union among colonies needed for
military reasons, 274.
United States, 21, 277.
Universities, Puritanism in the, 62.
Vandals, 26.
Vane, Sir Henry, 48, 116, 118, 119,
129, 185, 246.
Van Twiller, Wouter, 122.
Vassall, William, 175-177, 192.
Verres, Caius, 13.
Virginia, 30, 75, 79, 93, 141, 142.
Virginia Company, 75 ; suppressed by
James I., 161.
Voltaire, 5, 51.
Vulgate, 54.
Wadsworth, Capt. Samuel, 230, 233.
Wadsworth, Capt. (Charter Oak), 268.
Waldron, Major, 239.
Watford, Thomas, 104.
Walsingham, Sir F., 61.
Wallenstein, 103.
Walters, Lucy, 260.
Wampanoags, 84, 120, 209, 234.
Wampum as a legal tender, 254.
Wardwell, Lydia, 182.
Warfare not an essential part of the
EngUsh method of nation-making,
21-22 ; with savages sure to be truc
ulent, 228-229.
Warwick, 174, 234.
Warwick, Earl of, 157, 173, 261.
Washington, George, 31, 102, 139, 193.
Washington, Sir Henry, 193.
Watertown, 104, 105, 106, 124, 125,
126.
Wattaconoges, 170.
Welde, Thomas, 202.
" Wept of Wish-ton- Wish," 218.
Wequash, 204.
Wessagusset, 90, 93.
Weston, Thomas, 90.
Wethersfield, 125, 126.
Weymouth, attack on, 233.
Weymouth, George, 76, 77, 88.
WhaUey, Edward, 192, 193, 218.
White, John, 93, 95, 97.
White trash, 142.
Willard, Samuel, 269, 272.
WiUard, Simon, 216, 217, 272.
William the Silent, 58, 68.
WUliam III., 272-274.
Williams, Roger, 114-116, 151, 154,
157, 158, 166, 167, 170, 178, 184-186,
226, 248.
Wilson, Deborah, 182.

296

INDEX.

WUson, John, 118, 188, 251.
Windsor, Conn., 122, 123, 125, 126.
Winslow, Edward, 85, 160, 177.
Winslow, John, 272.
Winslow, Josiah, 199, 200, 213, 220,
222,225,229.
Winthrop, John, 102, 103, 106, 113,
116, 117, 118, 119, 123, 124, 136, 141,
146^ 151, 174, 175, 178,179,250, 252.
Winthrop, John, the younger, 123,
186, 195, 220.
Wise, John, 271, 278.
Wollaston, Captain, 91.

" Wonder-working Providence," 243-
247.
Worcester, battle of, 140, 192; cap
ture of, 193.
Worcester, Mass., 215, 233.
Wrentham, 233.
Wyclif, John, 42, 43, 52, 55, 59, 181.
Yorkshire, 135.
Yorktown, 31.
Zeno, Roman emperor, 3.
Zunis, 208.

YALE UNIVERSITY

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