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A public-domain text about Boston, accessioned whole so the archive can quote it.","text_extract":"NYPL RESEARCH LIBRARIES \n\n\n3 3433 07954364 5 \n\n\nH-:^; '* \n\n\n>*^ j'^\"'\"* ^\"^ ' ' . \n\n\"•_ \n\n■K'_y/';< \" \n\n^^H^ i ^ ,. \n\n^^E''\"''^ \n\n,. \n\n^^■k^- \n\n. \n\nmij^^ \n\n-V. \n\n1 ,»-3^ ' ,7 ' , . \". \n\n^ \n\n-V't>^ -S. -**'«'> >' \n\n• , V \n\n-.y --•*', J - ' \n\n^ \n\nKMAiF>> ^ » ^. ->* \n\n'v ' ^ \n\n^^^^^^j^V^jm; \n\n^^^^^^^^^^^H \n\n•>-■\"\" \n\n^^^^^^^^^1 \n\nHr'/ ' \n\n^^^^^^^H \n\n■w \n\n^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^B \n\n^■tV>. ^ \n\n^^^^^^^^^^^H \n\nV\"\"^ \n\n^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^1 \n\niP^^-;L-^.^^%> \n\n^^. \n\n\nl^-y\\^ \n\n\nn^ \n\n\nTHREE EPISODES OF \nMASSACHUSETTS HISTORY \n\n\nTHE SETTLEMENT OF BOSTON BAY \n\nTHE ANTINOMIAN CONTROVERSY \n\nA STUDY OF CHURCH AND TOWN GOVERNMENT \n\n\nBY \n\n\nCHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS \n\n\nVOLUME II \n\n\nBOSTON AND NEW YORK \nHOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY \n\n1892 \n\n\nCopyright, 1892, \nBy CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS. \n\nAll rights reserved. \n\n\nSECOND EDITION. \n\n\nThe Riverside Press, Cambridge, Mass., U. S. A. \nElectrotyped aud Fuuted by U. 0. Uoughtou & COb \n\n\nCONTENTS OF VOL. 11. \n\n\nTHE ANTINOMIAN CONTROVERSY. \n\nContinued. \n\nCHAFTKB PAGR \n\nX. The Fate of the Outcasts 533 \n\nXI. \"And Shem and Japheth took a Garment and \n\nCOVERED the NaKEDNESS OF THEIR FATHER \" . 559 \n\nA STUDY OF CHURCH AND TOWN GOVERNMENT. \n\nI. Old Braintree 581 \n\nII. The Braintree North Precinct Church . . 590 \n\nIII. Land Titles and the Town Commons . . 646 \n\nIV. The Highways 666 \n\nV. Dwellings and Modes of Life .... 680 \n\nVI. Population and Wealth 689 \n\nVIL SocL^L Life 699 \n\nVIII. The Vicious, the Poor and the Insane . .722 \n\nIX. The Meeting-house 732 \n\nX. The Church, and Church Discipline . . . 747 \n\nXI. The Training-field and the School-house . 764 \n\nXII. Intemperance and Immorality .... 783 \n\nXni. Health, Reading, Diversions .... 800 \n\nXrV. Town-meetings 810 \n\nXV. Colonial Wars and Town Contentions . . 827 \n\nXVI. The Revolutionary Epoch 838 \n\nXVn. Exhaustion • . . .889 \n\nXVIII. Recuperation 899 \n\nXIX. The Era of Change 922 \n\nXX. The Quincy School System 933 \n\n\nIV \n\n\nCONTENTS OF VOL. II. \n\n\nXXI \nXXII. \n\nXXIII. \n\nXXIV. \nXXV. \n\nINDEX \n\n\nThe Alien Infusion \n\nThe Rebellion .•\"... \n\nTown-meetings again \n\nA Long Battle won .... \n\n\" The King is dead ! Long live the King \n\n\n944 \n, 061 \n\n865 \n. 975 \n\n980 \n1011 \n\n\nCHAPTER X. \n\nTHE FATE OF THE OUTCASTS. \n\nOf the subsequent fate of Anne Hutchinson and \nJohn Wheelwright, little need here be said ; their \nstories, — and that of Mrs. Hutchinson is a sufficiently \ntragic one, — are told in the biographies which have \nbeen written of them. Before her excommunication \nwas an accomplished fact, Winthrop says that Mrs. \nHutchinson *' seemed to be somewhat dejected.\" She \ncould hardly have been otherwise ; for to her the action \nof the Boston church, when at the meeting of March \n15th Cotton solemnly admonished her, must have \nbeen a comj^lete surprise, — a revelation of changed \npublic feeling. During the whole four months which \npreceded it she had been under restraint at Roxbury, \nand practically shut off from direct intercourse with \nthe body of her fellow-communicants. When her trial \nbefore the Court closed in November she was still the \ncentral figure and the animating spirit of a formidable \nparty, which in the town and church of Boston, at \nleast, was wholly and even aggressively predominant. \nThe Boston deputies to the legislature had been elected \nwithout opposition to sustain her ; and they had sus- \ntained her to the extent of their power and to the very \nend. So strong indeed was the feeling locally that it \nhas been seen how even Winthrop, the governor of \nthe colony, had been in imminent danger of being \ncalled to account before the church after the trial, for \n\n\n534 THE FATE OF THE OUTCASTS. 1C38. \n\nhis course in connection with it ; and had felt it neces- \nsary to forestall action by publicly telling the congre- \ngation, that as a magistrate he could not hold himself \nanswerable to a cono;reo:ation. The elders were on his \nside, and the malcontents abandoned their project; \nbut that they entertained it, and that Winthrop should \nhave taken such public action to anticipate them, \nis complete evidence of how strong and general the \nfeeling was. During the winter which followed, a \ngreat change had occurred. In the first place the \nminority was completely vanquished ; in the second \nplace, a system of terrorism was established. People \nno more wanted to be sent into banishment to Rhode \nIsland or New Hampshire then, than now they would \nwant to be banished to New Mexico or to Wyoming. \nYet banishment, prompt and perpetual, was the alter- \nnativ^e to complete submission. The leaders, it was \nunderstood, were to go. So much was settled. In- \ndeed, some of them had already gone, and others were \nsoon to follow. Public meetings of the dissatisfied \nwere not tolerated, and their most private utterances \nwere laid hold of and repeated, in order to be heralded \nin public, and stamped out as heresies.^ Moreover, \nthe influence and example of Cotton were potent. \nAfter Vane left the colony. Cotton was the virtual \nleader of the minority, and those composing it had \nsought to shelter themselves under the authority of \nhis name. But Cotton had now wholly accepted the \nsituation. He had done even more than this, — he had, \nheart and soul, gone over to the other side. He was, \nindeed, inquisitor-in-chief, and, \" finding how he had \nbeen abused, and made (as himself said) their stalk- \ning horse,\" he spent most of his time discovering \n1 Cotton, Way Cleared, 58, 85. \n\n\n1638. ''ORDER REIGNS T' 635 \n\nerrors and leading back such as were gone astray .^ \nThe clergy, therefore, were united as one man. So \nwas the magistracy. To stand up in that community, \nagainst church and state combined, called for great \nmoral courage. Not one in a hundred would dare do \nit. Under these circumstances, the fact that all oppo- \nsition ceased calls for no explanation. The silence \nwhich prevailed may have been sullen, but it was com- \nplete. The minority surrendered their arms and held \ntheir tongues. Order reigned in Boston. \n\nWhile Mrs. Hutchinson could have had little idea \nof all this when she was brought in from Roxbury to \nconfront the church, a realizing sense of it must have \ncome to her when she, whose utterances a few short \nmonths before had been received by all as those of a \nprophetess, found not one to oppose her public cen- \nsure. The utter downfall of her faction and the \ncollapse of her ambitious projects were apparent. For \nthe moment her mind must have been crowded with \nvery mundane misgivings. A wife and the mother of \nmany children, she was under sentence of banishment ; \nand even then her husband and brethren were seeking \nout a home in some uninhabited place. The marvel \nis how a woman in delicate health and of sensitive \norganization, burning with religious fervor and soon \nonce more to become a mother,^ bore up against such \na sea of troubles. \n\n1 Winthrop, i. *258. \n\n2 The miscarriage of Mrs. Hutchinson, over the details of which \nGovernor Winthrop and Messrs. Weld and Cotton all g-loated with \nsingular pleasure, seems to have occurred in Rhode Island in July \nor August, 1638, some four months after her excommunication. Six \nweeks before it occurred — that is, in June — she had been forced to \nconsult a physician, perceiving \" her body to be greatly distempered \nand her spirits failing, and in that regard doubtftd of life.\" Win- \nthrop, i. *271 ; Short Stort/, Preface, 12. \n\n\n536 THE FATE OF THE OUTCASTS. 1638. \n\nThe ordeal fairly passed and the worst befallen, \nher spirits rose once more. Indeed she seems to have \nnow worked herself into a state of exaltation, glory- \ning in her trials and declaring that, next to Christ, \nthey were the greatest happiness that ever befell her. \nAt the time of her excommunication the snow still \nlay deep upon the ground, though it was our first of \nApril, nor did the winter break up until some days \nlater.i The exile could not, therefore, at once be \ndriven forth ; but until she could be, she was freed \nfrom her semi-imprisonment at Roxbury, and allowed \nto remain, though closely within doors, at her own \nhouse in Boston. At length, some days later. Gov- \nernor Winthrop sent her a warrant to depart the \njurisdiction, and in obedience thereto, on the ^ of \n^^, she left her home, and, going down to the shore, \nwas conveyed in a boat across the bay to a landing \nnear her husband's farm at the Mount.^ It was the \nfirst stage of her journey. She was under injunction \nto leave the province before the close of the month. \nHer original plan was to join Wheelwright's family \nat Mt. Wollaston, and go with them by water to Ports- \nmouth. Meanwhile her husband and his companions, \nafter being refused an abiding - place within their \nlimits by the Plymouth authorities, found a site for a \nplantation to their liking in the island of Aquidneck, \nnear where Newport now is. Receiving tidings of \nthis before she had started for New Hampshire, Mrs. \n\n1 Winthrop, *264. \n\n2 The precise site of TVilliam Hutchinson's house in what is now \nQuincy is not known, but his allotment (supra, oOO. n.) covered the \nterritory in the immediate neighborhood of the Wollaston Heiprhts \nstation on the Old Colony railroad, including what is known a-? Tay- \nlor's hill and a part of the large plain north thereof. Lechford's \nNote-Book, [177], [214]. \n\n\n1640-2. «4 PLACE CALLED HELL-GATE:' 537 \n\nHutchinson changed her plans, and, in the early days \nof April, journeyed by land to Providence, and to the \nisland of Aqiiidneck in Narragansett Bay. \n\nThere she lived for a few troubled years, and there \nin March, 1640, she was visited by a formal dele- \ngation of the Boston church, whose mission was to \nrequire her companions in exile to explain \" their un- \nwarrantable practice in communicating with excom- \nmunicated persons.\" There are two accounts of what \ntook 2)lace between those composing this delegation — \none of whom was Major Gibbons — and Mistress \nHutchinson. According to the more reliable of these \naccounts, the brief conference was brought to a close \nby her remarking that she would not acknowledge the \nBoston church to be any church of Christ ; according \nto the other and less reliable account, the mere men- \ntion of \" the church of Christ at Boston \" brought on \nan expression of temper on her part, in which she \ncoupled the name of that body with epithets common \nenough in Shakespeare's day, but which are now \nclassed as archaic. That the mission was fruitless \nhardly needs to be said.^ \n\nIn 1642 William Hutchinson died ; and, shortly \nafter, his wife removed to a point on Manhattan Is- \nland, it would seem, \" neare a place,\" as Mr. AYeld \ntook care to note down, \" called by Seamen, and in the \nMap, Hell-gate.\" AVliile the reason of this removal \nis not certainly known, a plan for bringing Rhode Is- \nland within the jurisdiction of the Massachusetts colony \nwas under consideration at the time ; and it has been \nsurmised that the mere apprehension of such a thing \nled to her again going into exile. On the other hand, \n\n1 Arthur Ellis, First Church of Boston, 65 ; G. E. Ellis, Puritan \nAge, 351. \n\n\n538 THE FATE OF THE OUTCASTS. 1642, \n\nher old enemies in Massachusetts very pointedly in- \nsinuated that she found herself after a while no longer \nappreciated in her place of exile, and so moved away, \n\" being weary of the Island, or rather the Island \nbeing weary of her.\" If the least charitable, the last \nexplanation is, on its face, the more likely of the two. \nIt was the woman's nature to crave excitement and \nnotoriety. She could not be happy without it. As \nsoon, therefore, as she found herself a sensation of \nyesterday, she grew restless and felt a call to go else- \nwhere. If such w^as, indeed, the true explanation of \nher removal to the Dutch settlement at the mouth of \nthe Hudson, time was not given her to weary of her \nnew and final place of abode, for she could have been \nthere but a few months when, in August, 1642, \" the \nIndians set upon them, and slew her and all her \nfamily, her daughter and her daughter's husband, and \nall their children \" save one daughter that was carried \ninto captivity. This child was then eight years old ; \nin 1647 she was recovered by the General Court and \nbrought back to Massachusetts. When the news of \nthis terrible ending reached Boston, the people there \nwere deeply moved. They called to mind the defiant \nwords in w^hich the would-be prophetess had told the \nCourt that the Lord would surely deliver her from \nimpending calamity, and would ruin them and their \nposterity and their whole State ; and so bade them \ntake heed how they proceeded against her. And now \nthe clergy of Massachusetts Bay grimly pointed out \nto all their congregations that the Lord God of Israel \n— the God of Abraham and Isaac — had indeed and \nin his own good way shown himself to his chosen peo- \nple. He had smote the American Jezebel a dreadful \nblow. Thus the Lord heard his servants' groans to \n\n\n1638-41. WHEELWRIGHT, THE EXILE. 539 \n\nheaven, and freed them from this great and sore afflic- \ntion ; neither had he shown himself through the devil- \nish delusion of miracles, but in the way of his wonder- \nful providence he had picked out this woful woman, \nto make her and those belonging to her an unheard-of \nheavy example. \n\nThe subsequent fate of John Wheelwright, if less \ndramatic than that of Anne Hutchinson, was suf- \nficiently checkered. He had, it will be remembered, \nmade his way to Exeter during the severe winter of \n1G37-8. Joined there by his family the following \nspring, he once more settled down in the practice of \nhis ministry. As would naturally have been expected, \nhe was now pressed by his brother exiles to join them \nin Rhode Island. \" They sent to him,\" Cotton says, \n\" and urged him much to come to them, to a far richer \nsoil, and richer company than where he lived : yet he \nconstantly refused \" upon the \" ground of the corrup- \ntion of their judgments : ' Professing often, whilst \nthey pleaded for the Covenant of Grace, they took \naway the Grace of the Covenant.' \" But Exeter was \nnot destined to remain his home. Three years later \nonly, in 1641, the New Hampshire towns voluntarily \nput themselves within the jurisdiction of Massachu- \nsetts Bay ; and then Wheelwright, being brought again \nunder the ban of the law, betook himself further east \nto Sir Ferdinando Gorges' province of Maine, where \nhe sat down not far from Cape Porpoise, founding \nwhat is now the town of Wells. He was accompanied \nby his mother-in-law, the mother of the Hutchinsons, \nwho, as she sat in the twilight of those later days, \nmust often have thought regretfully of her early home \nat Alford in the fens of Lincolnshire, — and here, in \ndreariest exile, the poor, buffeted old Englishwoman \n\n\n540 THE FATE OF THE OUTCASTS. 1642. \n\ndied. But as Wheelwright cahnly meditated in this \nlast place of refuge over his stormy career, its events \ngradually assumed a new character in his eyes, and he \nbethought to make his peace with his brethren. Not \nimprobably he felt the more moved to this course when \ntidings of his sister Hutchinson's fate reached him, \nleading him to reflect on the real character of the \nissues upon which her life had been wrecked. In any \nevent, a letter of reconciliation from Wheelwright to \nWiuthrop followed hard upon the destruction of the \nHutchinson family. It was a thoroughly manly effort, \nand its terse, pointed admissions gave evidence that \nit was the fruit of \" an overrulins: conscience.\" He \nexpressed his deep contrition for the part he had \ntaken in \" those sharp and vehement contentions,\" and \nintimated his more mature sense of the inanity of the \npoints at issue. He confessed that, as he now saw it, \nhe had then acted sinfully, and he humbly craved for- \ngiveness. In reply a safe-conduct to Boston was sent \nhim, and he was practically invited to go there and \nabase himself before the General Court. This he de- \nclined to do, taking the ground that, however willing \nhe might be to confess himself wrong in respect to \n\"justification and the evidencing thereof,\" yet he \ncould not with a good conscience condemn himself for \nsuch \" capital crimes, dangerous revelations and gross \nerrors \" as were charged upon him and had caused his \nsufferings. Some further correspondence followed, as \nthe result of which the General Court in May, 1644, \nplaced upon its records a vote remitting Wheel- \nwright's sentence of banishment *' upon particular, \nsolemn and serious acknowledgment, and confession \nby letter, of liis evil carriages and of the Courts jus- \ntice upon him for them.\" It is to be hoped that Win- \n\n\n1644-54. THE END OF STRIFE. 541 \n\nthrop did not draw up this entry as it stands recorded, \nfor it was couched in a very different spirit from the \nletter which invited it. Wheelwright had made no \nsuch confession of guilt and of the justice of his civil \nsentence. He could not, nor would he, avail himself \nof a pardon, the acceptance of which bound him to so \nhumiliating a confession. ^ \n\nAccordingly, for three years more, the former stu- \ndent at Cambridge and incumbent of Bilsby, now a \nman of over fifty, remained buried in the frontier \nwilderness of Maine. In 1647 he received a call from \nHampton, near Exeter, and, removing thither, he \nthere ministered for nearly eight years. At last, in \nMay, 1654, in answer to some echo of the old Antino- \nmian controversy, — for such echoes still from time to \ntime came back to New England from the English \npress, — the people of Hampton drew up a petition \nto the General Court, intended to bring out from that \nbody some kindly testimonial in Wheelwright's be- \nhalf. It was to be a sort of certificate of restored \nfellowship and regular standing. Winthrop had now \nbeen dead four years, and Endicott had succeeded \nhim as governor. Cotton, too, was dead. Weld and \n\n1 It was at the time this correspondence between Winthrop and \nWheelwright was going on, and the rescinding of the sentence of exile \nwas under advisement, that Weld's Short Story, etc., was printed in \nLondon. As Winthrop was the author of that pamphlet, and knew \nbetter than any one else that the statements contained in it must occa- \nsion controversy, he could not but have seen how very desirable it was \nto secure the complete confession of Wheelwright in advance. The \npamphlet could hardly have reached America when the vote of May \n29th was recorded. This fact may account for the peculiar wording \nof that vote. A confession was manufactured in advance by the other \nparty to the controversy, asid put on record. None of the public men \nof that time were above such tricks The best of them seem to have \nlooked upon low cunning as an admitted feature in statecraft- \n\n\n542 THE FATE OF THE OUTCASTS. 1656-62. \n\nPeters, having gone to England years before, were \nnot destined to return. The old controversial fire, in \nthat particular form with which Wheelwright had \nbeen concerned, was wholly burned out, and it was \nalso a period during which the local persecuting spirit \nwas comparatively quiet, — resting, indeed, prepara- \ntory to its next fierce outburst against the Ranters and \nQuakers, two years further on. Accordingly, when \nthe petition of the people of Hampton reached the \nGeneral Court, it presently, in answer thereto, judged \n\"meete to certifie that Mr. Wheelwright hath long \nsince given such satisfaction both to the Court and \nelders generally as that he is now, and so for many \nyears hath been, an officer in the church at Hampton \nwithin our jurisdiction, and that without any offence \nto any, so far as we know.\" The words were some- \nwhat negative in their character, but they were the \nlast in the, so called, Antinomian controversy. \n\nSome two years later than this, towards the close \nprobably of 1656, Wheelwright left Hampton and \nsailed for England. It then lacked a few months only \nof being twenty full years since he had first landed \nin Boston, a man of forty-four, and there rejoined his \nsister Hutchinson. The retrospect could not have \nbeen a pleasant one. He was now sixty-four ; the end \nof all his ambitious dreams had been a banishment, \nand more than ten years had elapsed since the blood \nof Anne Hutchinson was poured upon the ground. \nWhile he had been languishing under the provincial \nban of Massachusetts Bay, his old schoolfellow and \nfamiliar friend had become the Lord Protector of \nEngland. Nevertheless, the six years he now passed \nin England — those which saw the end of the Com- \nmonwealth and the beginning of the Restoration — \n\n\n1662-79. YET AGAIN, EVIL DAYS! 543 \n\ncould hardly have been other than the halcyon years \nof his life. During them he was treated with con- \nsideration by eminent men ; for not onl}^, it would \nseem, did he live at Belleau, — the home of Sir Harry \nVane, his old friend and protector, who now \" greatly \nnoticed him,\" — but he was singled out by Cromwell \nfor marks of especial regard ; and when he went up to \nLondon for a visit \" my Lord Protector was pleased \nto send one of his guard \" for him, and gave him an \nhour's interview. \n\nPleasure-trips across the Atlantic were not taken \nin those days, and the probabilities are that when \nWheelwright returned to England in 1656, he pro- \nposed to finish his days there. If such was his in- \ntention, the course of political events may well have \ninduced him to change it. Cromwell died ; and even \nbefore the Restoration, Vane had been committed a \nprisoner to his own house. The old Puritan divine \nhad fallen again upon evil days. On the 4th of June, \n1662, Vane was arraigned in the court of King's \nBench, and ten days later he laid his neck on the \nblock upon Tower Hill. Then Wheelwright seems to \nhave shaken from his feet the dust of his native land, \nthough he had passed his seventieth year when, later \nin the same summer, he next landed in Boston. His \npulpit at Hampton had long since been filled, but he \nnow received a call from the neighboring church at \nSalisbury, where he was formally installed on the 9th \nof December following his return. This was his last \nand also his longest settlement, for it continued seven- \nteen years, until his death in 1679. He was then the \noldest minister in New England. He had outlived all \nthe contentions of his middle life, and every one of \nhis contemporaries who had taken part in them. He \n\n\n544 THE FATE OF THE OUTCASTS. 1679. \n\nbelonged to a past generation. But priesthoods have \nlon<»- memories. At the time his brethren took no \nspecial notice of the patriarch's death, nor does any \nstone now mark his grave. A portrait, believed on \nsuch evidence as is now attainable to be of him,^ for \nyears hung in the Senate Chamber of Massachusetts, \nand is now preserved in one of the rooms occupied by \nthe Secretary of State. Painted by an unknown hand \nin 1677, it represents an aged minister in the sombre \nCalvinistic garb of the time, — the broad white Ge- \nneva bands and black coif, while from under the last \nstraggle thin gray locks. The features, neither large \nnor harsh, are suggestive of the Shakespeare type of \nface so common among the English of that time, and \nin them, though drawn by an unskilled hand and \nfaded now, it yet seems possible to read an expression \nof sadness and disappointment such as would be not \nunnatural to a man of eighty-four, so much of whose \nlife had been passed in losing strife and weary exile. \n\nFinally, like most of the Puritan breed, John \nWheehvright was far from being a lovable character. \nHis proper place was not the pulpit. He should have \nbeen a man of affairs, — a lawyer, a magistrate, pos- \nsibly a soldier ; for he was strong, self-willed, enter- \nprising and courageous. He was ambitious also, nat- \nurally craving prominence and taking a grim delight \nin controversy. Nor did he shrink from conflict with \nnature, any more than he shrank from it with man. \nHe was not afraid to be alone in a minority, or alone \nin the woods. A clergyman, he was often engaged in \nlawsuits ; for in matters temporal, as well as in those \nspiritual, he had the full courage of his convictions \nand entire faith in himself. That he was an attractive \n1 250fA Anniversary, First Church, Quincy, 12, 151-2. \n\n\n1637-1815. THE BENT TWIG. 545 \n\nman in domestic life does not seem probable ; he \nleaves the impression of one deeply conscientious, but \nstill rigid, overbearing, and hard to please at home, \nas everywhere else. \n\nNone the less, Wheelwright was essentially a man \nof mark; and a man who, wherever he might have \ngone, would have left his mark. It may be mere acci- \ndent, but those familiar with the subsequent history \nof the Mount have thought they could detect in it in- \ndications of the man's power of thus impressing him- \nself on those about him. As will presently be seen, \nin 1640 that region was incorporated as a town, under \nthe name of Braintree. Again, in 1792, the north \nprecinct of Braintree, which included Mt. WoUaston, \nwas set off as the town of Quincy. It was in what is \nnow the city of Quincy that Wheelwright ministered, \nand there is no doubt that his parishioners sympa- \nthized fully in his views. The first teacher of the \nchurch regularly gathered there, two j^ears later, w^as \none of his disciples, whose name was blotted from \nthe famous Boston remonstrance only so late as May, \n1640.^ In subsequent years the north precinct of \nBraintree, — both as such, and as the town of Quincy, \n— always showed a marked leaning towards a liberal \ntheology, the more noticeable from the contrast in this \nrespect offered to the rigid orthodoxy which ever char- \nacterized the south precinct, still retaining the original \nname. During the eighteenth century the two pre- \ncincts more than once, through their pastors, engaged \nin sharp controversy, never changing their sides,^ — \nthe original leaven apparently continuing to work, as \nthe pastor influenced the people, and the tendency of \nthe people operated back in the selection of pastors, \n\n1 Infra, 603. 2 infra, 638, 944. \n\n\n546 THE FA TE OF THE OUTCASTS. 1637-1815. \n\n— until the old order of things passed wholly away. \nAs the twig is bent, the tree inclines ; and so it may \neven be surmised that the seed sown by Wheelwright, \nin 1637, bore active fruit in the great New England \nprotest, under the lead of Channing, two centuries \nlater, deciding the course then pursued by the descend- \nants in the seventh generation of those who at the \nMount had listened to him. \n\nOf the others who shared Mrs. Hutchinson's exile, \nWilliam Coddington was the most prominent. He \nseems to have been the immediate successor of Thomas \nMorton in the ownership of Mt. Wollaston ; and, sin- \ngularly enough, the record of every annual tov/n- \nmeeting of Quincy, so long as Quincy continued to be \na town, bore recurring evidence to the fact that he \nonce lived there, and thence went into exile. Since \nthe year 1640, a portion of the extensive grant made \nto him and to Edmund Quincy, jointly, in December, \n1635, has been public property, and is spoken of on \nthe first page of the Braintree records as ''The Schoole \nLands.\" Each year, by a formal vote, — the reason \nof which long since passed into a meaningless tra- \ndition, — the town of Quincy, as tenant of the land \nthus held, appropriated to school purposes a sum of \nmoney as a nominal rent.^ The name of the school in \nwhich the children of the district including Mt. Wol- \nlaston are taught, and the street upon which its build- \ning stands, still perpetuate the name of Coddington. \n\n1 The record of the process through which this land came into the \npossession of the original town of Braintree is inexplicably defective ; \nbut some facts connected with it lead to a suspicion that Coddington, \nafter going into exile, instead of freely giving the land, was judicially \ndespoiled of it. See communication referred to in the Proc. Mass. \nHist. Soc. Series II. vii. 23. \n\n\n1638. EXPEDITED EXILE. 547 \n\nThe dominant faction dealt with Coddington in \nmuch the same arbitrary spirit with which it had dealt \nwith Wheelwright and Anne Hutchinson. He was \nneither \" con vented \" nor formally banished ; but, \nthough a firm, self-asserting man of a business turn of \nmind and somewhat grasping disposition, the action \nof those with whom he had been seven years associ- \nated offended him, and, as intense religious bigotry \nhas at no time been conducive to social amenities, the \nprivate bearing towards him of many of his old friends \ndoubtless aggravated the difficulties of the situation. \nEven as early as the autumn of 1637, therefore, \nCoddington thought of removing with a number of \nothers from the Massachusetts jurisdiction, and ob- \ntained leave so to do, a year's time being allowed \nthem for the purpose : but, before their plans were \nmatured, the General Court, at its March session of \n1638, — at the very time of the excommunication of \nMrs. Hutchinson, — took cognizance of the matter on \nthe strength of a rumor that the emigrants proposed \nonly to withdraw themselves \" for a season.\" Their \nmovements were accordingly expedited by a summons \ncommanding them to appear before the next Court, \nunless, accompanied by their families, they had pre- \nviously taken themselves off. The next Court was \nfixed to be held two weeks later. Deeply indignant, \nbut being, as he himself subsequently expressed it, \n\" not willing to live in the fire of contention,\" Cod- \ndington, together with the others designated in the \nsummons, six in number, made their way to Provi- \ndence within the designated time. It was in the early \ndays of our April that he left his brick house, on the \nnorth side of what is now Liberty Square, said to have \nbeen the first brick house ever built in Boston, and \n\n\n548 THE FATE OF THE OUTCASTS. 1G38-78. \n\nhe afterwards wrote to Winthrop \" wliat myself and \nwife and family did endure in that removal, I wish \nneither you nor yours may ever be put unto.\" But \nwhen, in 1640, — two years later, — he thus expressed \nhimself, his animosities had already passed away : for \nin yet another letter, written shortly after and like- \nwise to Winthrop, he took occasion to say that he well \napproved '' of a speech of one of note amongst you, \nthat we were in a heate and chafed, and were all of \nus to blame ; in our strife we had forgotten that we \nwere brethren.\" ^ Though Wheelwright was eight \nyears his senior, Coddington died first, in 1678. His \nname is still venerated in Rhode Island, as that of \nWinthrop is in Massachusetts ; and, while the por- \ntrait of the latter looks down from the walls of the \nSenate chamber of the State-House in Boston, that \nof the former hangs in the Council-room at Newport. \nThrough several generations his descendants dwelt \nin the home he had helped to build up and rule over ; \nbut in time they also experienced the decay common \nto families, and the last of them is reported to have \ndied in the almshouse of the place her ancestor \nfounded, lying on a bed which still showed the \narmorial bearings of her family. \n\nIt will be remembered that when Mrs. Hutchinson \nleft the Boston church, after excommunication, Mary \nDyer walked at her side. She was a very proper and \ncomely young woman, the wife of one William Dyer, \nsometime a citizen of London, and a milliner in the \nNew Exchange ; though as Winthrop, to whom we \nowe these particulars, goes on to say, she and her \nhusband were in Boston \" notoriously infected with \nMrs. Hutchinson's errors, and very censorious and \n1 IV. Mass. Hist. Soc. Coll. vi. 314, 317. \n\n\n1659. MARY DYER. 549 \n\ntroublesome, slie being of a very proud spirit, and mucli \naddicted to revelations.\" They both went with the \nHutchinsons to Rhode Island. Mary Dyer would seem \nto have been one of that class, numerous in those days, \nwhose brains were wholly unsettled by their religion. \nShe remained in Rhode Island, in apparently undis- \nturbed enjoyment of her revelations, for many years, \nbecoming a Quaker in the mean while ; but at last, in \n1659, hearing of the persecution of that sect in Massa- \nchusetts, and loathing her place of refuge \"for that \nthere they were not opposed by the civil authority, \nbut with all patience and meekness were suffered to \nsay over their pretended revelations and admonitions,\" \n— feeling this call to persecution she came to Boston. \nWhat she there did does not appear, but she was \nspeedily arrested and brought before the Court in \ncompany with three others. She simply said in her \nown defence that she came from Rhode Island to \nvisit the Quakers, that she was of their religion, and \nthat the light within her was the rule. They were \nbanished, under pain of death if they returned. Mary \nDyer and one other \" found freedom to depart ; \" but \nwithin a month they were back again, in company \nwith another woman, who brought some linen for the \nexamination of Governor Endicott, intended to be \nused as the grave-clothes of that magistrate's victims. \nThey were at once all thrown into prison, and then \nbrought again before the Court, which now sentenced \nthem to death. Mary Dyer's son at this time filled \nthe important office of secretary of the province of \nRhode Island, and at his earnest solicitation the \ndeath-penalty was remitted in the case of his mother, \non condition that she should leave Massachusetts \nwithin forty-eight hours. Her companions, WiUiam \n\n\n550 THE FATE OF THE OUTCASTS. Oct. \n\nRobinson and Marmaduke Stephenson, were left for \nexecution. When the day fixed for their hanging \ncame, the town had to be put under guard, so great \nwas the sympathy felt for the condemned. Sur- \nrounded by a heavy escort, the three prisoners walked \ntogether from the jail in Cornhill to the gallows, \nwhich had been erected on the Common, Mary Dyer \ngoing between the two others and holding a hand of \neach. She must then have been a woman of middle \nlife, but Edward Nicholson, the marshal, asked her \nif she was not \" ashamed to walk hand in hand, be- \ntween two young men ? \" \"It is,\" she answered, \" an \nhour of the greatest joy I can enjoy in this world. \nNo eye can see, no ear can hear, no tongue can \nspeak, no heart can understand, the sweet incomes \nand refreshings of the Spirit of the Lord which now \nI enjoy.\" ^ \n\nWhen her companions were hanged, she sat beneath \nthe gallows with the halter about her neck, calmly \nlooking at the multitude of horrified spectators, whom \na hundred armed men of the train-band kept back \nfrom the scaffolding; for so great was the throng \nupon, the Common that day, that the draw-bridge over \nthe canal, which then separated the North End from \nthe town, broke down under the weight of those \nreturning home. When her companions were dead \nMary Dyer was taken back to prison, and there she \nfirst learned of the circumstances of her reprieve. \nShe at once wrote to the governor, repudiating her \nson's action, and offering her life as a sacrifice. It \nwas necessary to use force to get her out of the juris- \ndiction. She was at last taken back to Newport, \nwhere for a time she seems to have been kept under \n\n1 Supra, 408. \n\n\n1659. CAPTAIN JOHN UNDERHILL. 551 \n\nrestraint ; but in the following spring she succeeded \nin eluding those having her in charge, and, journey- \ning \" secretly and speedily,\" found her way back to \nBoston. She was again thrown into prison ; and \nagain her family piteously interceded for her. She \nwas sentenced once more to be hanged, but at the \ngallows her life was offered her if she would keep \naway from Massachusetts. Her reply was : — \"In \nobedience to the will of the Lord I came ; and in \nhis will I abide faithful to the death.\" She now lies \nburied in some undistinguished part of Boston Com- \nmon. Assuredly the fate of those two women, who, \nside by side, walked forth out of the church on that \n22d of March, 1638, was sufficiently tragic, — one \nmurdered by savages, the other put to death by her \nbrethren ! \n\nTo turn from Mary Dyer to John Underhill is like \nsuddenly passing from the solemnity of a funeral to \nthe buffoonery of a pantomime. Captain John Under- \nhill was a Puritan of that Trusty Tompkins type com- \nmon enough a few years later on in the armies of the \nCommonwealth, — a curious mixture of fervor, which \nwas apparently genuine, and of licentiousness which \nwas unquestionably so. He seems to have taken re- \nligion, as he would have taken any other epidemic \nwhich might have chanced to prevail, — and to have \nfelt it sufficiently, not to prevent his scoffing or indulg- \ning the flesh, but to make him extremely uncomfort- \nable after he had done so. As a soldier he had seen \nsome service under Prince Maurice of Nassau in the \nLow Countries ; and he came out with Winthrop in a \nsemi-military capacity in 1630. More recently he had \nserved under Endicott in the latter's inglorious Pequot \ncampaign. \n\n\n652 THE FATE OF THE OUTCASTS. 1638. \n\nThonoli Unclerlilll belonged to Mrs. Ilutcbinsoii's \nfaction, his more earnest efforts seem to have been \nput forth in Wheelwright's behalf. After the sen- \ntence of the latter he sent a strong appeal to Win- \nthrop not to enforce it,^ and later on he followed \nWheelwright to New Hampshire. When called to \naccount for putting his name to the remonstrance he \nat first retracted in writing, and put the j^aper in the \nGovernor's hands ; but presently he made up his \nmind to follow the exiled minister, and petitioned the \nCourt for a grant of land which had been promised \nhim. Hereupon he was questioned as to certain \nheretical opinions alleged to have been uttered by him \nsome time before to the effect, — \n\n\" That we were zealous here, as the Scribes and Phari- \nsees were, and as Paul was before his conversion, &c. \nWhich he denying, they were proved to his face by a sober, \ngodly woman, whom he had seduced in the ship, and drawn \nto his opinions (but she was afterwards freed again). \nAmong other passages he told her how he came to his as- \nsurance, and that was thus : — He had lain under a spirit of \nbondage and a legal way five years, and could get no assur- \nance ; till at length, as he was taking a pipe of tobacco, \nthe Spirit set home an absolute promise of free grace with \nsuch assurance and joy, as he never since doubted of his \ngood estate, neither should he though he should fall into \nsin.\" \n\nHis answers and explanations were not edifying on \ndoctrinal grounds, and so the matter of his signing \nthe remonstrance was brought in question. His re- \ntraction was produced by the Governor and read to \nthe Court, but he now said it api^lied only to the man- \nner, not to the matter of the paper ; in regard to the \n\n1 IV. Mass. Hist. Soc. Coll. vii. 171. \n\n\n1C33. \"JOAB, HIS ROUGH SPEECH.\" 553 \n\nlatter he was of the same mind still as he was when \nhe affixed his name. When asked for a Scripture \n\" rule by which he might take so much upon him, as \npublickly to contradict the sentence of the Court, &c., \nhee alleged the example of eToab his rough speech to \nDavid.\" The precedent thus adduced having been \ndisallowed for causes elaborately specified, he then \ninsisted much \" upon the liberty which all States do \nallow to Military officers, for free speech, &c., and \nthat himself had spoken sometimes as freely to Count \nNassau.\" This argument weighed no more with the \nCourt than the other ; so the captain was committed, \nand the next day he was again sent for and banished. \n\n\" The Lord's day following he made a speech in the as- \nsembly, shewing that, as the Lord was pleased to convert \nPaul as he was in persecuting, etc., so he might manifest \nhimself to him as he was taking the moderate use of the \ncreature called tobacco. He professed withal, that he knew \nnot wherein he had deserved the sentence of the Court, and \nthat he was sure that Christ was his, etc. . . . \n\n\" The next Lord's day the same Capt. Underhill, having \nbeen privately dealt with upon suspicion of incontinency \nwith a neighbor's wife, and not hearkening to it, was pub- \nlicly questioned, and put under admonition. The matter \nwas, for that the woman being young, and beautiful, and \nwithal of a jovial spirit and behaviour, he did daily fre- \nquent her house, and was divers times found there alone \nwith her, the doors being locked on the inside. He con- \nfessed it was ill, because it had an appearance of evil in it ; \nbut his excuse was, that the woman was in great trouble of \nmind, and sore temptations, and that he resorted to her to \ncomfort her ; and that when the door was found locked \nupon them, they were in private prayer together. But this \npractice was clearly condemned also by the elders, affirm- \ning, that it had not been of good report for a,ny of them to \n\n\n654 THE FATE OF THE OUTCASTS. 1638. \n\nhave done the like, and that tliey ought in such case, to have \ncalled in some brother or sister, and not to have locked the \ndoor, etc.\" \n\nIll September, 1638, after leaving Boston, Under- \nhill went to New Hampshire. The rest of his ludi- \ncrous story loses point when told in other than the \nunconsciously solemn words in which Winthrop first \nrecorded it : — \n\n\"The General Court in September gave order to the \nGovernor to write to them of Pascataquack, to signify to \nthem, that we looked at it as an unneighborly part, that \nthey should encourage and advance such as we had cast out \nfrom us for their offences, before they had inquired of us \nthe cause, &c. (The occasion of this letter was, that they \nhad aided Mr. Wheelwright to begin a plantation there, and \nintended to make Capt. Underbill their governor.) Upon \nthis Mr. Burdet returned a scornful answer, and would not \ngive the governor his title &c. and Capt. Underbill wrote a \nletter to a young gentleman, who sojourned in the house of \nour governor, wherein he reviled the governor with reproach- \nful terms and imprecations of vengeance upon us all. This \nletter being shown to the governor and council, the governor \nby advice wrote to Edward Hilton. He intimated withal \nhow ill it would relish, if they should advance Capt. Under- \nbill, whom we had thrust out for abusing the Court with \nfeigning a retraction both of his seditious practice and also \nof his corrupt opinions, and after, denying it again ; and for \ncasting reproach upon our churches, &c. : signifying withal, \nthat he was now found to be an unclean person, for he was \ncharged by a godly young woman to have solicited her \nchastity under pretence of Christian love, and to have con- \nfessed to her that he had his will oftentimes of the cooper's \nwife, and all out of strength of love ; and the church had \nsent for him, and sent him a license to come and go under \nthe hands of the governor and deputy ; but he refused to \ncome, excusing himself, by letters to the elders, that the \n\n\n1639. A PUBLIC CONFESSION, 555 \n\nlicense was not sufficient, &c., and, by letters to the Gov- \nernor, that he had no rule to come and answer to any \nojffence, except his banishment were released. But, to the \nmatter he was charged with he gave no answer, but sought \nan evasion. \n\n\" The Pascataquack men had chosen Captain Underhill \ntheir governor before the letter came to them, and it was \nintercepted and opened by Mr. Burdet and him. The \ncaptain was much nettled with this letter, and especially \nbecause his adulterous life with the cooper's wife at Boston \nwas now discovered, and the church had called him to come \nand make answer to it. And upon this he wrote a letter \nto Mr. Cotton, full of high and threatening words against \nus ; but he wrote another,' at the same time, to the governor \nin very fair terms, entreating an obliterating of all that was \npast, and a bearing with human infirmities, &c., disavowing \nall purpose of revenge. \n\n\" But, instead of coming to Boston to make answer to the \nchurch, he procured a new church at Pascataquack of some \nfew loose men to write to our church in his commenda- \ntion, wherein they style him the right worshipful, their \nhonored governor. All which notwithstanding the church \nof Boston proceeded with him. After this, Capt. Under- \nhill's courage was abated, for the chiefest in the river fell \nfrom him, and the rest little regarded him, so as he wrote \nletters of retraction to divers. And jjresently [about a \nyear later] being struck with horror and remorse for his \noffences, both against the church and civil state, he could \nhave no rest till he had obtained a safe conduct to come \nand give satisfaction ; and accordingly, at a lecture at Bos- \nton, (it being the court time,) he made a public confession \nboth of his living in adultery with Faber's wife, and at- \ntempting the like with another woman ; and also the injury \nhe had done to our state, &c. ; and acknowledged the jus- \ntice of the court in their proceedings against him. Yet all \nhis confessions were mixed with such excuses and extenua- \n\n\n556 THE FATE OF THE OUTCASTS. 1638. \n\ntions, as did not give satisfaction of the truth of his repent- \nance, so as it seemed to be done rather out of policy, and to \npacify the sting of his conscience, than in sincerity. But, \nhowever, his offences being so foul and scandalous, the \nchurch presently cast him out ; which censure he seemed to \nsubmit unto, and, for the time he staid in Boston, (being \nfour or five days) he was very much dejected, &c. ; but, be- \ning gone back, he soon recovered his spirits again, or, at \nleast, gave not that proof of a broken heart, as he gave \nhope of at Boston.\" \n\nAt Dover — as the New Hampshire settlement pre- \nsided over by Uuderhill and Burdet was now called \n— the captain had other troubles to encounter besides \nthose which his conscience caused him. In fact a \nspecies of civil war, of the smallest conceivable pro- \nportions, broke out between that town and the adjoin- \ning town of Exeter, as a result of which Underbill \nwas deposed and one Roberts chosen president in his \nplace. \n\nSoon after this downfall the ex-governor again went \nto Boston, trying once more to make his peace with \nthe church. Not being satisfied of his repentance, \nthe church declined to listen to him ; and so, after \na week's waiting, he went back to New Hampshire, \nwhere he seems to have now been in open disgrace. \nAt last, in the course of the spring and summer of \n1640, he came to the last act in this drama of colo- \nnial life and manners, — the closing, ludicrous scene \nbeing again in that meeting-house which a little more \nthan two years before had witnessed the solemn ex- \ncommunication of Mistress Hutchinson. There is no- \nthing better recorded by AVinthrop. \n\n\" Captain Underbill being brought, by the blessing of \nGod on this church's censure of excommunication, to re- \n\n\nKUO. \"A BROKEN AND MELTING HEART!'' 557 \n\nmorse for his foul sins, obtained, by means of the elders \nand others of the church of Boston, a safe conduct under \nthe hand of the governor and one of the council to repair \nto the church. He came at the time of the court of assist- \nants, and upon the lecture day, after sermon, the pastor \ncalled him forth and declared the occasion, and then gave \nhim leave to speak. Indeed it was a spectacle which caused \nmany weeping eyes, though it afforded matter for much \nrejoicing to behold the power of the Lord Jesus in his own \nordinances, when they are dispensed in his own way, hold- \ning forth the authority of his regal sceptre in the simplicity \nof the gospel. He came in liis worst clothes (being accus- \ntomed to take great pride in his bravery and neatness) \nwithout a band, in a foul linen cap pulled close to his eyes ; \nand standing upon a form, he did, with many deep sighs \nand abundance of tears, lay open his wicked course, his \nadultery, his hypocrisy, his persecution of Gods people \nhere, and especially his pride (as the root of all, which \ncaused God to give him over to his other sinful courses) \nand contempt of the magistrates. He justified God and \nthe church and the court in all that had been inflicted on \nhim. Indeed he appeared as a man worn out with sorrow, \nand yet he could find no peace. Therefore he was now \ncome to seek it in this ordinance of God. He spake well, \nsave that his blubbering &c. interrupted him, and all along \nhe discovered a broken and melting heart, and gave good \nexhortations to take heed of such vanities and beginnings of \nevil as had occasioned his fall ; and in the end he earnestly \nand humbly besought the church to have com]mssion on \nhim, and to deliver him out of the hands of Satan. \n\n\" So accordingly he was received into tlie church again ; \nand after, he came into the court (for the General Court \nbegan soon after) and made confession of his sin against \nthem, &c. and desired pardon, which the court freely \ngranted him, so far as concerned their private judgment. \nBut for his adultery they would not pardon that for ex- \n\n\n558 THE FATE OF THE OUTCASTS. 1640. \n\naiuples sake ; nor woiikl restore liira to freedom, though \nthey released his banishment, and declared the former law \nagainst adultery to be of no force ; so as there was no law \nnow to touch his life, for the new law against adultery was \nmade since his fact committed. \n\n\" He confessed also in tlie congregation, that though he \nwas very familiar with that woman, and had gained her \naffection, &c., yet she withstood him six months against all \nhis solicitations (which he thought no woman could have \nresisted) before he could overcome her chastity, but being \nonce overcome she was wholly at his will. And to make \nhis peace the more sound he went to her husband (being a \ncooper) and fell upon his knees before him in the presence \nof some of the elders and others, and confessed the wrong \nhe had done him, and besought him to forgive him ; which \nhe did very freely, and in testimony thereof he sent the \ncaptain's wife a token.\" ^ \n\n^ It is unnecessary in the present work to follow the Captain's \ncareer after he thus made his peace \\vith the church of Boston, the \nmagistrates of Massachusetts Bay and Joseph Faber, cooper. He \nremoved to Stamford in Connecticut, and afterward to Flushing-, on \nLong Island. He performed other military duties ; he was a dele- \ngate to the Assembly and an under-sheriff, — an altogether respecta- \nble and useful man. He was far from being a man of education, and \nin IV. Mass. Hist. Soc. Coll. vii. are a number of letters from him, the \nspelling of which is remarkable. The following is a specimen taken \nfrom a letter to \"John Wenthrop esquier, Goferner of the Macetu- \nchets baye,\" and written from the house of Captain Gibbons, where \nhe apparently tarried during his brief and fruitless visit to Boston in \nApril, 1640 : — \n\n\" A mong the rest of my aflickchons, jusli imposed by my sinnfull \nlif and backsliding prodigalliti in my whole corcf, this is on that doth \nand will agrefate my gref e, thut I am deprife of that chrischan liberti \nI once had, boght by the preschous bind of the Lord Jesous ; but I \nhafe made the blod and deth of Christ of non efeekt, therfor I am \njustli depriued of liberti to visset you, nor dare I aproch youer pres- \nenc, tel the Lord mofe you there unto.'' This queer specimen of one \ntype of Puritan life is supposed to have died at Oyster Bay, L. I., in \n1672. \n\n\nCHAPTER XL \n\nAXD SHEM AND JAPHETH TOOK A GAKMEXT AND \n\n\nThe course pursued by those in authority in Massa- \nchusetts Bay towards Mrs. Hutchinson and her adher- \nents has ever been, and will probably long remain^ \none of the hotly contested issues in early New Eng- \nland history. So far as external authority is con- \ncerned the verdict has been distinct. The action of \nthe General Court of 1637 has been treated as an un- \njustifiable persecution, which has left a dark stain on \nthe earliest pages of the history of the Puritan Com- \nmonwealth.i But, on the other hand, the founders \nhave not lacked champions to extenuate, and even to \njustify their proceedings.^ By these it has been argued \nthat the colonists came to New England with certain \ngreat and laudable objects in view ; that to the attain- \nment of these objects unity of opinion and effort was \nclearly desirable, if, indeed, not absolutely essential. \nBeset as it was with enemies, and regarded with, at \nbest, unfriendly eyes by those in authority at White- \nhall, the continued existence of the enterprise often \nin those early days hung upon a thread. A mere \nscandal, a rumor even of internal dissensions, might \nafford the pretext for a fatal exercise of royal author- \nity. This peril, it cannot be denied, was never absent \n\n1 Dovle, The English in America ; the Puritan Colonies, i. 186-8. \n\n2 Palfrey, i. 488-511. \n\n\n5G0 SHEM AND JAPHETH. \n\nfrom the minds of Wlnthrop and his associates. The \nwhole enterprise, moreover, was a business under- \ntaking, those engaged in which formed a society or \npartnership by themselves, in which no provision had \nbeen made, or was intended to be made, for hostile \nor antagonistic elements. Massachusetts, within the \nchartered limits, was to the members of this partner- \nship what his farm or his dwelling is to a freeholder ; \nand they had the same right as the freeholder to expel \nintruders or dissentients, or persons distasteful to \nthem. Those responsible for the success of the \nundertaking finally, after careful consideration, were \npersuaded and fully believed that the expulsion of the \nmore prominent of the so-called Antinomian faction \nwas necessary to peace and prosperity, temporal and \nspiritual ; and, if the whole thing is viewed from the \nstandpoint of the seventeenth century instead of the \nnineteenth, it will probably be conceded that they \nwere correct in their conclusion.^ The event certainly \nvindicated the substantial justice of their course, as \na long period of internal tranquillity followed the \nproceedings of 1638. \n\nThis line of argument is plausible, but there are \ndifficulties connected with its acceptance. The analogy \nof the freeholder may, from a legal point of view, be \ncorrect ; and yet a freeholder who invited his brethren \nto come and abide with him and labor on his farm, \nand who then sternly visited each expression of \nopinion different from his own with stripes and ban- \nishment, would not be regarded as a desirable neigh- \nbor or as a judicious man. In its widel* scope, also, \nthe same line of argument might equally well be used \nto palliate the course of those whose persecutions \n\n^ Lodge, Short History, 351. \n\n\nTHE STANDPOINT OF TIME, 561 \n\nforced the colonists into exile. In their desire to \ndefend Winthrop, those who reason thus also defend \nLaud. He, too, as well as his master and Philip \nII. and Louis XIV., had great public ends in view, \nthe attainment of which was not in his belief con- \nsistent with toleration. Even more than Winthrop, \nLaud might a little later have pointed to terrible civil \ncalamities which had resulted from his inability to \ncarry out a policy of wholesome repression. If, \nindeed, he had lived only ten years longer he might \nhave cited exultingiy the conformity enforced in \nMassachusetts and the tranquillity resulting there- \nfrom ; and then turned to the dissensions which tore \nEngland, and have asserted, truly enough, that he \nonly tried to do in his own country, and failed, what \nWinthrop had tried to do in Massachusetts, and suc- \nceeded. He had striven for the peace of absolute \nconformity. It is well to consider in the discussion \nthe seventeenth century standpoint ; but, in the seven- \nteenth century, good public intentions were not con- \nfined to the founders of New England. Others, as \nwell as they, had high considerations of state always \nin view ; and a concurrence of opinion to a given end \nwas in the seventeenth century eagerly desired by \nthose who ruled elsewhere as well as by those who \nruled in Massachusetts. \n\nIn the treatment of doubtful historical points, \nthere are few things which need to be more care- \nfully guarded against than patriotism or filial piety. \nAdmirable in their place, these sentiments have less \nthan nothing to do with that impartiality which \nshould be the historian's aim ; and the appeal to \nthem is generally accompanied by some suggestion \nthat the matter in dispute should be viewed, not \n\n\n662 SHEM AND JAPHETH. \n\naccording to immutable principles, but from the \nstandpoint of the period or the individual. When \nviewed ^n this way, there are few historical events \nwhich do not admit of some defence. The door is \nopen wide for sophistry as well as charity. True, it \nis neither safe nor just to apply the standard of one \ncentury to the acts of individuals of another century ; \nbut, none the less, the fact of being in advance of \none's century constitutes greatness, both in the indi- \nvidual and in the people. If, also, the standards of \nthe period are to be exhumed and adopted, they \nshould be applied with rigorous impartiality. Love \nof country and piety, whether filial or religious, should \nnot be permitted to intervene in one case, and be \nexcluded in another. Judged in the full light of sub- \nsequent events, the protestant, civil or religious, of \nthe seventeenth century was better than the seven- \nteenth century inquisitor and persecutor; but when, \ncircumstances being altered, the protestant himself \nturned inquisitor and persecutor, it is not easy to see \non \\vhat judicial principal the historian, who has \nbeen exciting sympathy by the ancient tale of w^rong, \ncan suddenly put in that plea of altered times for \nthe one, which he has systematically disallowed for the \nothers. To do so may be filial, but it is not rational \nand it is not fair. \n\nIn the controversy of 1637-8 Winthrop and his \nassociates seem to have felt the weakness of their \nposition far more than their modern defenders ; and \nthey labored hard to hide it. In England the so- \ncalled Antinomian persecution was generally and cor- \nrectly regarded as a religious one. To deny that it \nwas such is impossible now, and was not easy then. \nIn the face of the record of the Synod at Cambridge, \n\n\nCASUISTRY, OLD AND NEW. 563 \n\nwith its endless list of erroneous opinions and \" un- \nsavory speeches,\" — in the face of the church indict- \nment of Mrs. Hutchinson with its twenty-nine several \ncounts, — it might almost as well have been contended \nthat the issue between Luther and Leo X. was not a \nreligious issue, and that the German reformer was pro- \nceeded against simply because his course led directly \nto sedition and civil strife, — which it unquestionably \ndid. But, for obvious reasons, the fathers of the \ncolony were sensitive on this point. The principles \nof religious toleration were much better understood at \nthat time, by minorities at least, than modern investi- \ngators seem disposed to admit. The Long Parlia- \nment had not then met, and Laud was in the full \nenjoyment of power. The friends of Winthrop and \nWeld in England were accordingly, in 1636-8, them- \nselves undergoing persecutions, and those in New \nEngland were loath to supply the prelates with new \nexamples as well as fresh arguments. Their casuistry \nwas equal to this, as it was equal to all other occa- \nsions. They flatly denied that religious considera- \ntions had anything to do with their proceedings. \nWhatever they had done, had been done on civil \ngrounds. They had, it was true, labored and wrestled \nwith their brethren over matters spiritual, but the \npunishments inflicted had been for temporal mis- \ncarriages. \n\nThomas Weld, for instance, in a narrative prepared \nespecially for use in England, after referring to the \nrecantation of Cotton, thus stated the case as respected \nthe others : — \n\n\" But for the rest, which (notwithstanding all these meanes \nof conviction from heaven and earth, and the example of \ntheir seduced brethrens returne) yet stood obdurate, yea \n\n\n564 SHEM AND JAPHETH. \n\nmore hardened (as we had cause to feare) than before ; we \nconvented fhose of them that were members before the \nchurches, and yet hiboured once and againe to convince \nthem, not onely of their errors, but also of sundry exorbi- \ntant practices, neglecting to feare the Church, and lying, \n&c., but after no meanes prevailed, we were driven with \nsad hearts to give them up to Satan : Yet not sim])ly for \ntheir opinions (for which I find we have beene slanderously \ntraduced) but the chiefest cause of their censure was their \nmiscarriages (as have beene said) persisted in with great \nobstinacy.\" ^ \n\nSo when Coggeshall was arraigned before the Court, \nhe had met the charges preferred against him by say- \ning that tliey amounted to nothing \"but matter of \ndifferent opinion, and that he knew not one example \nin Scripture that a man was banished for his judg- \nment.\" To this Winthrop, in the account of the \nproceedings he prepared for publication in England, \nsays he replied that if the prisoner \" had kept his \njudgment to himself, so as the public peace had not \nbeen troubled or endangered by it, we should have \nleft him to himself, for we do not challenge power \nover mens consciences, but when seditious sjieeches \nand practices discover such a corrupt conscience, it is \nour duty to use authority to reform both.\" ^ Cogges- \n\n^ Short Story, xii., xv. \n\n2 In the letter of the Rev. Thomas Shepard, entitled New England's \nLamentations for Old England's Errors, the distinction suggested here \nis very clearly drawn : — \" We never banished any for their consciences, \nbut for sinning against conscience, after due means of conviction.\" \nThis is very like Cotton's argument in his reply to Saltonstall, that a \nmagistrate in compelling a man to religious observances does not com- \npel him to sin, \" but the sin is in his will that needs to be compelled.\" \n(Hutchinson's State Papers, 404.) But the statements made for Eng- \nlish effect are ludicrously at variance with Winthrop's emphatic laying \ndown of the law at the Hutchinson trial : — \" We see not that any \nshoidd have authority to set up any other exercises besides what au- \nthority hath already set up.\" (Hutchinson, ii. 486.) \n\n\nCONSTRUCTIVE SEDITION. 565 \n\nhall's offence, it will be remembered, consisted in his \nsaying, from his place in the Legislature, that he ap- \nproved of a paper presented to a previous Legislature, \nthough his name was not signed to it. It was a case \nof constructive sedition ; but constructive sedition re- \nsulting in banishment is only in degree a lesser out- \nraoe than constructive treason resultino- in death. \nWhatever their party or country, zealots are all \nformed of one material, and Hugh Peters was but \nIgnatius Loyola under other conditions ; nor can the \nfact that the founders of Massachusetts did the deed \ninfluence the verdict of history. The \" conscientiously \ncontentious \" John Wheelwright, silenced for opin- \nion's sake, and expelled from his pulpit at Mount \nWollaston, was a persecuted man no less than the \n\" conscientiously contentious \" John Wheelwright \nsilenced and expelled for the same cause from his \nvicarage at Bilsby. \n\nBy investigators of another class it is argued that \nthese proceedings were reasonable measures of self- \npreservation. Those holding this view insist that it \nis impossible to arrive at any correct understanding \nof the motives which impelled the dominant party in \nMassachusetts to their rigorous measures without ex- \ntendino^ the rano^e of vision so as to take into view the \ngeneral condition of European thought and political \nand religious movement at that time. They say, and \nwith truth, that the human mind in many countries \nwas then in a condition of violent seething ; the old \nligaments which had bound men together were loos- \nened, and the new had not begun to knit. The world \nwas full of crude abominations. The Anabaptists of \nMunster were but a century gone, and the saints of \nthe Fifth Monarchy were yet to come. The human \n\n\n5GG SlIEM AND JAPHEril. \n\nmind was sick with isms — sick in England and Scot- \nland, sick in Fiance, sick in Germany. For the time \nall thin«^s seemed to tend towards subversion. The \nstaitling success of Mrs. Hutchinson in her role of a \njirophetess in l^oston, \" raised uj) of God for some \ngreat work now at hand,\" was significant. It demon- \nstrates at least how thoroughly the Massachusetts com- \nnmnity was impregnated with this uneasy spirit, hov/ \nstrongly it sympathized with the morbid tendencies of \nthe age. In and of herself. Mistress Anne Hutchin- \nson was nothing. At any other time she might have \ncome to Boston and criticised each Sunday's sermons \nto her heart's content, — talking her mystical non- \nsense until she stopped from sheer weariness, — and, \nwhile few would have hearkened to her, nobody v/ould \nhave molested her. She would have passed away as \nthousands like her have before and since, and the most \ndiligent search of the antiquarian would fail to detect \nany rip})le made by her in tlie gr(*at current of events. \nBut Mrs. Hutchinson chanced happily. She thirsted \nfor notoriety, and she struck just the combination of \ncircumstances which secured it to her. The historian \nof to-day, therefore, sees that her success was a symp- \ntom, not a cause. It denoted a condition of the body \nj)olitic. The clergy were supreme; the peojde were \nrestless, and she gave voice to their restlessness. Tluis \nthe great struggle for New ICngland, between the \nvague unrest of the time and its conservative forces, \nchanced to happen over her body. Had the conflict \nresulted otherwise than it did, — had Mrs. Hutchin- \nson sustained herself and had the clergy been van- \nquished, — she and Whcu'lvvright and the rest would \nhave been like many others, before and since, who \nhave inaugurated revolution when they fondly sup- \n\n\nALARMISTS, THEN AND NOW. 567 \n\nposed they woi-e guiding reform. She would soon \nhave been made to realize that the spirit she had in- \nvoked far exceeded her powers of control. She would \nhave disappeared aghast at the ex(;esses and absurdi- \nties of those who had once been her followers. Theo- \nretical toleration then meant in practice, what theoreti- \ncal liberty meant in practice a century and a half later \nin France, — anarchy, pure and simple. The fault \nwas not in the food : that was as good and strong and \nnourishing in 1G37 and in 1793 as it is now ; but the \nstomach of the body politic was not yet educated up \nto the point of assimilating it. Thus the battle over \nMrs. Hutchinson involved the question whether Mas- \nsachusetts was to be radical and doctrinaire, or con- \nservative and practical, — a man's home or a fool's \nl)aradise. The doctrinaire Vane was wise in prin- \nciple and wrong in practice ; Winthrop, cool and \nprudent, was wrong in princij)l(; but right in practice. \nEven in his bigotry, he saved Massachusetts. \n\nTo this somewhat fanciful and overwrought line of \nargument, it may be replied, that it is a doubtful ex- \npedient to justify persecution on the ground that, but \nfor it, a long train of calamities, whicli never did hap- \npen, might have happened. In the early days of \nNew England the clergy never wearied of reminding \ntheir flocks of the evil deeds of the Anabaptists ; and \nthey were always predicting a renewal of the horrors \nof Munster as a certain result of toleration. That \npicture produced much the same effect on the minds \nof the timid of those days, as the thought of another \nReign of Terror has produced on the well-to-do of \nEurope throughout the present century. There were \nalarmists in the seventeenth century just as there are \nin the nineteenth ; but the realities of history and the \n\n\n568 SHEM AND JAPHETH. \n\nimaginings of excited men are two very different \nthings. In 1629 the charge made against the first \nbody of emigrants to Salem in Endicott's company \nwas that \" they were Separatists, and would be shortly \nAnabaptists.\" In 1637 Winthrop doubtless believed \nin his heart — what he stated at the trial and spread \non the Records of the Province and reiterated in his \nnarrative of the proceedings — that the Covenant of \nGrace, as taught by Mrs. Hutchinson, and social \nanarchy, or worse, were convertible terms.^ It is \nbarely possible that at one stage of the controversy \nthere might have been danger of actual strife ; though \nthe presumption — as gathered from the calm, law- \nabiding tone of the papers which emanated from the \nminority, and from the submissive way in which they \nallowed themselves at the close to be disarmed, fined, \nwhipped, disfranchised and banished — is decidedly \nthe other way. There is no evidence of any material \nin that little community out of which to manufac- \nture revolutions. Certainly Coddington, Coggeshall, \nHough, Balston, Hutchinson, Dummer, and even blub- \nbering Captain John Underbill, are strange subjects \nout of which to conjure up hosts of prophets of Mun- \nster, Latter-day Saints, or Fifth Monarchy Men. \n\nBut the common-sense view of the controversy of \n1637, and its unhappy outcome, would seem to lead \nthe modern investigator to wholly different and more \nsober-colored conclusions. It was a struggle for civil \npower and ecclesiastical supremacy in a small village \ncommunity. As such it naturally — it almost neces- \nsarily — resulted in a display of the worst qualities of \nthose engaged in it. It illustrated also with singular \nforce the malign influence apt to be exercised by the \n\n^ Hutchinson, ii. 514 ; Records, i. 211 ; Short Story, 40. \n\n\nISSUES, TRUE AND FALSE. 569 \n\npriest and the woman as active elements in political \nlife. Stirred by an access of ill-considered popular \nenthusiasm, the body of the freemen had, at the elec- \ntion of 1636, put a slight upon the time-honored \nmagistrates of the colony, by placing the boyish Vane \nover their heads, in the office of governor. An am- \nbitious woman, with her head full of Deborahs and \nthe like, and with a genius for making trouble, had \nthen sought to drive from his pulpit, in the chief \ntown, its long-settled pastor, in order to install her \nown favorite preacher in his place, with her kinsman \nas that preacher's associate and successor. In her \nday-dreams she herself probably occupied, in the new \norder of things she proposed to bring about, the posi- \ntion of a prophetess, — the real guiding spirit of the \nwhole, — with her husband possibly in the judge's \nseat. Altogether it was an exhilarating vision, — \nsuch a vision as self-conscious and usually unappre- \nciated natures have in every time and most places \nbeen wont to revel in. But it did so chance that \nMrs. Hutchinson fell into just that combination of \ncircumstances which enabled her to succeed up to a \ncertain point. Her success was indeed marvellous ; \nand it turned her head. Presently she became reck- \nless. She put wanton affronts on the pastor ; and \nwhen his brethren rallied to his support, she did not \nhesitate to assail them also. She made enemies of the \nwhole body of the clergy. Vane sympathized with \nher ; Winthrop with them. The contest over the pos- \nsession of the civil offices came first, and resulted in an \neasy conservative triumph. Vane made the best fight \nhe could ; but the odds were too heavy, and he went \nhelplessly down. Winthrop was reinstated in his old \nplace ; and, practically, the struggle was then over. \n\n\n570 SHEM AND JAPHETH. \n\nThis fact both Vane and Winthrop recognized. They \nwere men trained in public affairs and accustomed to \ntheir ways. When beaten, the latter, with a sense \nand dignity which did him infinite credit, accepted the \nsituation as a man should, and patiently bided his \ntime ; the former, when his turn to be defeated came, \nleft the country. The real issue was then decided, \nand there was no longer anything to quarrel over. \nUnfortunately there was a woman in the case, and \nthe implacable spirit of theological hate had been \naroused. The priesthood demanded a victim ; and \nthe victim met the priesthood at least half-way. It \nnow became a struggle, which would have been lu- \ndicrous had it not been so earnest and so painful, \nbetween the whole body of the clergy and a female \nenthusiast, politician and tease. Had Winthrop then \nbeen in real control and able to assert a policy, the \nexcitement would speedily have worn itself out, as \npurely factitious excitements always have worn them- \nselves out when left alone, and always will. In six \nmonths from his return to office Mrs. Hutchinson \nwould have been a sensation of yesterday ; while \nJohn Wheelwright for the rest of his life would have \nquietly ministered to his people at the First Church \nin Braintree. As for real danger to the existence of \nthe colony, there was none. The strength and per- \nmanence of the English settlement of Massachusetts \nrested on too strong a basis to be jeopardized by a \nchange of magistrates, or a noisy quarrel in a vestry. \nThe success of Charles II. and Strafford and Laud in \ntheir schemes in England would have placed the col- \nony in much peril ; but in New England its safety \nlay, not in the fact that Winthrop, or any other man \nor set of men, held office, but in the oneness, the hard \n\n\nECCLESIASTICAL ALLIES. 571 \n\npractical sense, and power of political afterthought \nand self-restraint, of the twelve or fifteen thousand \nEnglishmen who composed it. They were no sheep, \nto whom Anne Hutchinson was a ravening wolf and \nfor whom John Winthrop was the only shej^herd. \n\nThe issue was then finally and completely settled \nat Cambridge on the ^ of May, 1637. The whole \ntheory of a continuing danger, to the time when six \nmonths later the persecution took place, is without \nany evidence in its support. The procession of his \nfriends which escorted Vane to the shore, when on \nthe 13th of August he embarked fo'r England, was a \nfinal demonstration, — the salvo of musketry which \nsaluted his departing vessel was the volley fired over \nthe grave of a lost cause. The demonstration may \nunder the circumstances have been indiscreet, but it \ncould hardly have excited alarm. The Pequot war \nhad .then been brought to a triumphant close ; the \nconservative party was in undisputed control of every \nbranch of the government; the immigration was large; \nthe alien law was in operation. The adherents of \nMrs. Hutchinson, the so-called Antinomians, were in \na majority in a single town only of the whole prov- \nince, and their party was so completely broken that \nits leaders were already seeking a place of refuge out- \nside the jurisdiction of Massachusetts. The struggle \nwith them was no longer for power, but for self-pres- \nervation. So far from threatening the safety of the \ncommunity, they were notoriously unable to protect \nthemselves. \n\nUnfortunately Winthrop's course was not now a free \none. It was hampered by the presence of those ec- \nclesiastical allies who had borne him back into power. \nThe clergy verifying in their conduct Milton's asser- \n\n\n572 SHEM AND JAPHETH. \n\ntion that \" Presbyter was but Priest writ large,\" — the \nclergy insisted on the extirpation of an indefinable \nheresy. They pointed to the compact of January, \ntwo years before, wherein \" Mr. Winthrop acknow- \nledged that he was convinced that he had failed in \novermuch lenity and remissness, and would endeavor \nto make a more strict course hereafter.\" They de- \nmanded the letter of the bond. Dudley and Endicott \nalso were there, sitting on his either hand at the \ncouncil-table : Dudley, to whom a faction among the \npeople had adhered because he carried matters with \n\" more severity ; \". and Endicott, afterwards the per- \nsecutor of the Quakers, and now the mouthpiece of \nHugh Peters.^ The mild-tempered but prudent Win- \n\n^ That this is the correct explanation of Winthrop' s course is, I \nthink, plainly to be inferred from his own language. In May, lOoo, \nhe had failed of a reelection as governor, and subsequently, in Jan- \nuary, 163G, had been informally arraigned before the clergy on the \ncharge of dealing \" too remissly in point of justice.\" He had made \nthe issue that \"justice should be administered with more lenity in \nthe infancy of a plantation than in a settled state.\" The next morn- \ning the ministers had \"set down a rnle in the case\" in favor of \n\" strict discipline.\" Then Winthrop confessed liimself, in the lan- \nguage cited in the text, and promised to err no more on the side of \nlenity. (AVinthrop, i. *178.) Sixteen months later, tlirough the direct \ninterposition of the clergy, he had been again chosen governor, and \nnow as the exponent of their policy. Immediately on his return to \noffice he wrote as follows of the Antinomian controversy : — \" Few \ncould see where the difference was ; and indeed it seemed so small? \nas (if men's affections had not been formerly alienated, when the \ndifferences were formerly stated as fundamental) they might easily \nhave come to reconciliation.\" (lb. *221.) Six months later he records \nthe meeting of the General Court, when its members, \" finding upon \nconsultation that two so opposite parties could not contain in the \nsame body, without apparent hazard to the whole, agreed to send \naway some of the principal.\" (lb. *24.\").) These extracts, with Dud- \nley's and Endicott's interpolations at Mrs. Hutchinson's trial, appar- \nently tell the whole story. Hugh Peters' influence on Endicott, \nwho \" as a magistrate did not bear his sword in vain,\" is set forth in \nI. Mass. Hist. Soc. Coll. vi. 253-5. \n\n\nTHE SHADOW OF REMORSE. 573 \n\nthrop remembered his promise, and bent to the storm \nhe could not withstand. What followed was a simple \necclesiastical persecution, of the more moderate kind. \n\" Jezebel \" was hunted out. With Winthrop, there- \nfore, all the proceedings subsequent to the May elec- \ntion of 1637 were a political necessity. Like many \nanother public man, he found himself driven by the \nclamor of those behind him further than he wished, \nor thought it wise to go. There is reason, also, to \nbelieve that his own conscience was thereafter ill at \nease in regard to the course he then pursued, and \nthat he feared, because of the sufferings and banish- \nments inflicted, God would visit his wrath and sore \ndispleasure upon the land.^ The recollection of these \nthings even cast a shadow of remorse over the closing \nhours of his well-spent life ; for when, twelve years \nlater, the Father of Massachusetts lay dying in his \nhouse in Boston, an order for the expulsion of some \nreligious dissentient was brought to him. Turning \nfrom Dudley, ever prone to severity, who pressed him \nto sign it, the dying magistrate refused, saying, — \n\" Of that work I have done too much already.\" ^ As \nhe uttered those words the memory of murdered Anne \nHutchinson, upon whose former home, standing op- \nposite his own, his fading vision may at the moment \nwell have rested, must needs have been uj)permost in \nhis thoughts.^ \n\nThe business of the historian is to state facts and \nconclusions exactly as he sees them. On the one \nhand it would appear that the Boston movement of \n1636-8 — the miscalled Antinomian movement — \n\n1 IV. Mass. Hist. Soc. Coll. vii. 187. \n\n2 Hutchinson, i. 151. \n\n3 Ellis, Puritan Age, 25. \n\n\n574 SHEM AND JAPHETH. \n\nwas a premature agitation, based on a false issue. \nThe power of the clergy could not then have been \nsuccessfully assailed in Massachusetts ; nor was it \ndesirable that it should be. There was need enough \nfor reform ; but, to be useful and healthy, reform had \nto come more slowly and from another direction. \nNeither did Anne Hutchinson or her following; hold \nforth any promise of better things. Theirs was no \nprotest against existing abuses. On the contrary, in \ntheir religious excesses they outdid even the clergy, \n— they out - heroded Herod. Their overthrow, ac- \ncordingly, so far as it was peculiar to themselves and \ndid not involve the overthrow of great principles of \nreligious toleration and political reform, was no mat- \nter for regret. Knowingly and intelligently they rep- \nresented nothing that was religiously good or politi- \ncally sound. But, unfortunately, their action — as \nfalse, premature action is wont to do — brought wiser \naction and sound jn-inciples into disrepute, and seri- \nously retarded progress in Massachusetts. This was \nconspicuously apparent in the ruthless treatment a \nsubsequent and more deserving reform movement \nshortly after received at the hands of the party in \npower ; for the fate of Robert Child and his associ- \nates in 1646 was a mere political corollary of that of \nAnne Hutchinson in 1637. At the hands, therefore, \nof an historian whose intelligence is not mastered by \nhis sympathies, she and her friends, including Gov- \nernor Vane, are entitled to no consideration. They \nwent on a fool's errand, and they brought great prin- \nciples into lasting odium. \n\nOn the other hand, tlie way in which the adherents \nof Vane and Mrs. Hutchinson were suppressed cannot \nbe defended, without including in the defence the \n\n\nA PERSECUTING RACE. 575 \n\nwhole system of religious and political intolerance of \nthat time. But why should it be defended ? It is \nimpossible to ignore the fact, and worse than useless \nto deny it, that the New England Puritans were essen- \ntially a persecuting race. They could not be other- \nwise. They believed that they were God's chosen \npeople. As such, they were right ; all others were \nwrong. If, therefore, they failed to bring up their \nchildren in the strait and narrow way, and to protect \nthem and all the peoj^le from the wiles of the Evil \nOne, God would not hold them guiltless. The Israel- \nites were their models in all things, and the prece- \ndents which guided their action were precedents \ndrawn from the books of the Old Testament. \" So, \nby the example of Lot in Abraham's family, and \nafter Hagar and Ishmael, he saw they must be sent \naway.\" The Israelites were not an attractive or an \namiable or a philosophical race ; they were narrow, \ndevout and clannish. No one ever presumed to so- \nphisticate away their cruelties or their persecutions. \nYet withal they were a strong and an aggressive peo- \nple, believing certain things implicitly ; and, accord- \ningly, they impressed t'hem selves and their beliefs on \nthe human mind. Their very imperfections were es- \nsential elements of their strength. They believed to \nfanaticism ; and it was tlie strength of their fanati- \ncism which caused their belief to dominate. It was \nthe same with the Puritans of New England. They \npersecuted as a part of their faith. \n\nIt is true that in so doing the Puritan exiles to New \nEngland showed that they were not in advance of \ntheir times. That they were not, was again an ele- \nment of their strength ; for they were essentially \npractical men, and not idealists. As such, being of \n\n\n576 SHEM AND JAPHETH. \n\nthe seventeenth century, they objected to persecution \nchiefly as applied to themselves. It was enough for \nthem that their charter and the fundamental prin- \nciples of their community gave them the right to \nl)rescribe who might settle among them, and to expel \ndissentients and intruders. They exercised that right. \nBut is there any good reason to suppose that the \ncrushing-out process of 1637 resulted more favorably \nin Massachusetts than elsewhere ? The historians of \nthe New England school have insisted that it did, — \nthat in this case at least, whether harshly and oppres- \nsively used or not, persecution was justified by the \nresult.^ They point to the fact that peace, quiet and \nsafety were by means of it restored, and that a long \nperiod of internal tranquillity followed the year 1637. \nThe exiles even, in many cases, made their submission \nand returned. All this is true. Exiles have usually, \nin all ages and in all countries, looked fondly back on \ntheir old homes, and returned to them as soon as they \nwere permitted so to do. As respects the long period \nof peace and tranquillity, there can be no question that \nsuch a period followed the violent measures of 1637-8. \nThis was well expressed in a tract published in Lon- \ndon in 1643, in which the boast was made that, since \nthe banishment of the friends of Mrs. Hutchinson, \n\" not any unsound, unsavourie and giddie fancie have \ndared to lift up his head, or abide the light amongst \nus.\" 2 But, though there can be no question that a \nperiod of peace and tranquillity did then settle down \non Massachusetts, or that it lasted through the lives \nof six generations of those born on the soil, there may \nwell be great question whether this peace and tran- \n\n1 Palfrey, i. 509 ; Lodge, 351. \n\n2 I. Mass. Hist. Soc. Coll. i. 247. \n\n\nPOST ERGO PROPTER. 677 \n\nquillity were good things, — whether, indeed, those \nblessings were not purchased for Massachusetts, as \nthey have been for other countries, at a heavy price. \nWhen Yane, in the December council of 1636, was \ncowering under the fierce diatribe of Hugh Peters, he \nshowed true insight in exclaiming, \" the light of the \nGospel brings a sword.\" ^ These few words, like a \nsudden electric flash, revealed the whole situation, \nlaying bare the errors of those with whom he was \ncontending. Then and afterwards, it was in New \nEngland as it has been and still is elsewhere : \" the \nspiritual growth of Massachusetts withered under the \nshadow of dominant orthodoxy ; the colony was only \nsaved from atrophy by its vigorous political life,\" and \nthe rule of its established church, '' so long as it en- \ndured, was a rule of terror, not of love ; her ways were \nnever ways of pleasantness, her paths were never \npeace. ^ \n\nYet it has more than once been assumed by the \nMassachusetts historians, in a sort of matter-of-course \nway, that the sterile conformity, which for more than \na century after the suppressions of 1637-8 prevailed \nin the Puritan Commonwealth, was desirable, — that \nmagistrates like Stoughton and divines like Mather, \nand a literature of forgotten theology and unreadable \nhomilies, were fruits indicating a good tree. That \nwhat happened then did happen is true ; that it \nnaturally resulted from what went before is equally \ntrue ; but that better things could not have happened \nis taken for granted. That in time the intellect of \nMassachusetts — schooled by self-government through \na long struggle with nature and against foreign en- \n\n1 Supra, 424. \n\n^ Doyle, Eng. in Am. ; the Puritan Colonies, i. 187-8. \n\n\n678 SHEM AND JAPHETH. \n\ncroachments — did work itself out from under the \nincubus of superstition, prejudice and narrow con- \nformity imposed upon it by the first generation of \nmagistrates and ministers, cannot be denied ; but it \nis certainly going far to infer therefrom that, in this \nespecial case, superstition, prejudice and narrow con- \nformity were helps instead of obstacles. It is not \neasy indeed to see how the 2^ost ergo lyropter fallacy \ncould be carried further. It is much like arguing, \nbecause a child of robust frame and active mind sur- \nvives stripes and starvation in infancy, and bad in- \nstruction and worse discipline in youth, — struggling \nthrough to better things in manhood, — that therefore \nthe stripes and starvation, and bad instruction and \nworse discipline, in his case at least worked well, and \nwere the cause of his subsequent excellence. It is \nbarely possible that New England, contrary to all \nprinciple and precedent, may have profited by the \nharshness and bigotry which for a time suppressed all \nfreedom of thought in Massachusetts ; but it is far \nmore likely that the slow results afterwards there \nachieved came notwithstanding that drawback, rather \nthan in consequence of the discipline it afforded. \nCertainly the historians who with such confidence set \naside all the lessons of human experience — in order \nto assert that, in the case of their ancestors, whatever \nwas, was right, as well as best — would be slow to \napply the same rules or draw similar conclusions in the \ncase of such as persecuted, banished or suppressed \nthose who thought like their ancestors. \n\n\nni. \n\n\nA STUDY OF CHURCH AND TOWN \nGOVERNMENT. \n\n\nA STUDY OF CHURCH AND TOWN \nGOVERNMENT. \n\n\nCHAPTER I. \n\nOLD BRAINTREE. \n\nOn the 18th of November, 1637, according to the \ncalendar now in use, sentence of banishment was passed \non John Wheelwright ; and, before the 1st of Decem- \nber, the preacher at \" the Mount \" had forever left his \npeople there, and was on his way to New Hampshire. \nThe character and extent of the settlements on the \nshores of Boston Bay south of the Neponset, at that \ntime, have already been referred to. Practically, the \nregion was still a forest wilderness of swamp, salt \nmarsh and upland. There was as yet no road from \nBoston to Plymouth, for the path to the latter place \n— in trying to follow which Phinehas Pratt had lost \nhis way thirteen years before ^ — began at Wessagus- \nset, and such little intercourse as there was between \nthose dwelling at Wessagusset and at Boston was by \nboat across the bay. The Indian trail did not follow \nthe shore, nor could it be called a path, for the eye \nof the trained woodsman was needed to detect its \ndevious way as it wound about the head-waters of tidal \ninlets and circled the uplands in search of fords, or \n\n1 Supra, 86-8. \n\n\n682 OLD BRAINTREE. 1623-34. \n\nthose points where alone it was possible to cross the \nswamps. While a forlorn remnant of the Massachu- \nsetts, the stricken survivors of plague and small-pox, \nhaunted the forest, between the Neponset and the Mon- \natoquit there were absolutely no white inhabitants. \nFirst Morton and the Merry-Mount company had \nbeen rooted out by the magistrates, who afterwards \nhunted Gardiner into the wilderness ; and, so far as \nthose two earliest attempts at settlement were con- \ncerned, axe and fire had done the work of obliteration \nwith all possible thoroughness, as Alderman, the pio- \nneer settler at Hingham, found when, in 1634, having \nhad occasion to be in Boston, he undertook to return \nhome by trail instead of by boat. His experience \nhas already been referred to,^ and it was even more \nsevere than that of Phinehas Pratt eleven years ear- \nlier ; for, losing his way. Alderman, during three days \nand nights, wandered through woods and swamps \nwithout falling in with a habitation, either house or \nwigwam, or a human being, white or red. Then, at \nlast, exhausted and starved, with torn clothing and \nbruised body, he struggled out of the wilderness to \nfind himself in Scituate. The Neponset was the \nsouthern limit of the Massachusetts settlement, and \nthe region beyond it remained a wilderness, through \nwhich, and beneath the dense tangle of the primeval \nforest, the sluggish streams that had their sources \namong the Blue Hills worked their slow way by \nclogged and crooked channels into the coast-indenting \ntidal creeks, whose wide margins of spongy salt-marsh \nwere submerged at times of flood. \n\nOf the original settlers thereabouts, — the \" old \nplanters,\" as they were called, — the widow of David \n1 /Supra, 337, 364. \n\n\n1634. \"THE MOUNT.\" 583 \n\nThomson only had been left, dwelling with her in- \nfant son and a few servants on the farm cleared and \ncultivated by her husband at the very point where \nMiles Standish and his party landed, when, thirteen \nyears before, they first visited Boston Bay. Refer- \nence has also been made to the order of the General \nCourt of May, 1634, that Boston, being \"too small \nto contain many,\" should have a convenient enlarge- \nment at Mount Wollaston.^ In the following Septem- \nber the \" enlargement \" was formally approved, and \non the 8th of December a grant of land was made to \n\" Mr. Willson the Pastor.\" The Rev. John Wilson of \nthe fi'-st church of Boston was therefore the earliest \nlandowner under the Massachusetts charter in what \nsubsequently became, and for a century and a half \nremained, the township of Braintree. Two years later \nstill further large assignments were made, and the en- \ntire bay-front from the Squantum headland to the \nmouth of the Monatoquit opposite Wessagusset passed \ninto the hands of three men, Atherton Hough, Wil- \nliam Coddington and Edmund Quincy. \n\nThus the region immediately south of the Neponset \nconstituted an exception to the well-defined general \npolicy under which the earlier land allotments were \nmade in Massachusetts. That policy, — a distinct \nnegation of the feudalism which Gorges had sought to \ntransplant,^ — unquestionably looked as a whole to a \ncareful husbanding of resources in the interest of all ; \nto a methodical occupation of territory ; to an avoid- \nance of even the beginnings of great accumulations of \nlanded property : so that, during the twenty-five years \n\n\n1 Supra, 365. \n\n2 Egleston, The Land System of the New England Col \nJohns Hopkins University Studies, IV. \n\n\nlonies, 26-7 \n\n\n584 OLD BRAINTREE. 1636-7. \n\nwhich immediately followed the settlement, but little \nmore than a hundred special grants were made, the \nlargest of which was 3,200 acres, while most of them \ndid not exceed 250 acres. \n\nYet while this wise and far-sighted policy was fol- \nlowed in the colony as a whole, in the case of \" the \nMount,\" nearly the whole of the bay-front, as has \nbeen seen, was allotted to three men, while three \nothers secured a large portion of the adjacent upland ; \nand great tracts, one of them of 3,000 acres and \nanother of 2,000, were set aside and devoted to special \npurposes : and this deviation from the general scheme \nbecame, as will presently be seen, the cause of subse- \nquent grave complications. \n\nAlthough in December, 1636, a committee, at the \nhead of which was Winthrop, was appointed \" to \nConsider of the Mount Woolistone businesse, and for \nthe ripening thereof how there may be a Town there \" \nwith the consent of Boston, \" the Mount \" still seems \nat that time to have been looked upon as a remote, out- \nlying dependency, to be reached conveniently enough \nby boat in summer, but in winter practicaJly inacces- \nsible. A little over one month before the Winthrop \ncommittee was appointed, on the \"\"— of S^^^,, it will \nbe remembered John Wheelwright had been \" granted \nunto for the preparing for a church gathering\" there. \nIt was evidently intended to incorporate a town at \nonce ; and little doubt exists that the body of immi- \ngrants who during the summer of 1637 came, as Win- \nthrop says, \"out of England from Mr. Brierly his \nchurch,\" would have joined the flock to which Wheel- \n^vright ministered, and consequently become freehold- \ners of the proposed new town, had they not been con- \nfronted at landing with that alien law, the purpose \n\n\n1637-40. ALLOTMENTS. 685 \n\nand operation of which has already been described.^ \nThey were consequently obliged to find a place for \nsettlement elsewhere, and outside the Massachusetts \njurisdiction. \n\nNaturally, amid the complications and fierce quar- \nrels of 1637, nothing was done by the committee of \nDecember 10th in the \" ripening \" way ; nor, for the \nnext three years, was anything more heard of the pro- \nject of a new church and another town south of the \nNeponset. It lay in abeyance, awaiting the advent of \nquieter times. During the interval the dwellers at \nand about Mount Wollaston would seem to have been \npoor people, the \"servants\" as they were described of \nthe large landholders ; for there is no reason to suppose \nthat any person of note or substance had yet actually \nmade his home there, though several such unquestion- \nably cultivated farms upon which they erected dwel- \nlings for their servants, and barns and outbuildings to \nshelter their stock. During the subsequent years to \n1640 other large allotments, of from 100 to 400 acres, \nwere made to non-residents, exceptional grants well \ncalculated to foster a race of landed gentry, but adding \nlittle either to the population or the prosperity of the \nregion. But large grants were no longer the rule. \nAnother system was all this time being pursued to- \nwards \" the common people,\" as they were called, \nwho were coming over to New England in crowds. \nThe custom was to allot such, irrespective of sex or \nage, but grouping them in families, four acres a \nhead ; and in the case of Boston the smaller allot- \nments were made largely at the Mount, twenty-six \nsuch being recorded in 1638, and fifteen more in \n1639. Prior to the incorporation of Braintree in \n\n1 Supra, 458-60. \n\n\n686 OLD BRA I NT REE. 1639. \n\nMay, 1640, one hundred and five such allotments in \nall had been parcelled out to families, numbering \n565 persons, showing that the average family, inclu- \nding probably servants as well as children, was be- \ntween five and six persons. But though these allot- \nments are recorded, it cannot be inferred that all \nthose to whom they were made actually settled at \nthe Mount. On the contrary, the names of only a \nsmall portion of them are at a somewhat later period \nto be found in the town and parish records, and the \nnatural inference is that many received their allot- \nments in one place, and, in those days of abundant \nland, preferred to settle elsewhere. \n\nNevertheless, a certain portion of these poorer \npeople did go out and build dwellings south of the \nNeponset ; and at last a decisive movement was made \ntowards the establishment of an independent church \nthere. The \" Chapel of Ease \" arrangement, as it of \nnecessity involved dependence on a mother church, no \nlonger sufficed for the spiritual needs of a gi'owing \npopulation. The region had also stood an unoccupied \ngap of heathendom long enough ; for the Dorchester \nchurch, on the north, went back to June, 1630, \nwhile the societies of Weymouth and Hingham, on \nthe south, dated respectively from July and Septem- \nber, 1635. Without, therefore, waiting for a formal \nadjustment of all questions with Boston, on the 16th \nof September, 1639, those dwelling at the Mount, in \nthe words of Governor Winthrop, \" gathered a church \nafter the usual manner, and chose one Mr. Tomson, \na very gracious, sincere man, and Mr. Flynt, a godly \nman also, their ministers.\" In the case of the church \nat Braintree, the signatures of six persons, besides \nthose of the pastor and teacher, were affixed to the \n\n\n1640. INCORPORATION. 587 \n\ncovenant. Drawn up in the simple but not unim- \npressive form then in common use, by virtue of it \nthose entering into the compact — \" poor unworthy \ncreatures, who have sometime lived without Christ \nand without God in the world \" — promised there- \nafter \" to worship the Lord in spirit and truth, and \nto walk in brotherly love and the duties thereof \naccording to the will of the gospel.\" In witness of \nwhich, they made public profession of faith in pres- \nence of those assembled, and gave to one another the \nright hand of fellowship. The church at Braintree \nwas the fifteenth which had been gathered in the \nprovince of Massachusetts Bay during the ten years \nof its settlement. \n\nThe incorporation of the town followed hard upon \nthe gathering of the church, for, at the following \nsession of the General Court, that of May, 1640, the \n'' petition of the inhabitants of Mount Wollaston was \nacceded to, and it was granted them to be a town, \nto be called Braintree ; \" though no well-authen- \nticated or wholly satisfactory reason for the choice \nof this name has ever been given, nor is there any \nbond of connection apparent between the Suffolk \nBraintree, of New England, and the Essex Brain- \ntree, of Old England. The vote incorporating Brain- \ntree contained detailed reference to an asrreement \nwhich had been effected between certain represen- \ntatives of those dwelling at the Mount and the au- \nthorities of Boston. The vested interests of the lat- \nter place in the former had again been asserted, and \nthe question thus raised proved one not easy to settle. \nThere had evidently been much bickering. Appeal- \ning to the \" enlargement \" vote of 1634, it was con- \ntended on the one side that Boston and the Boston \n\n\n588 OLD BRAINTREE. 1640. \n\nchurch would, through the incorporation of the new \ntown, be shorn of their proportions ; while on the \nother side a growing population asserted their natural \nrights. The result was a compromise, the terms of \nwhich are by no means free from ambiguity. Under \nit all the lands in the new township seem to have \nbeen released from a liability to taxation as a part \nof Boston, and also from future county taxes, upon \nthe payment to Boston of a trifle over a shilling an \nacre on the land \" formerly granted to divers men \nof Boston upon expectation they should have con- \ntinued still with us,\" and three shillings an acre \nfor every acre that had been, or thereafter should \nbe, granted to any others not inhabitants of Boston. \nIn other words, the actual settlers in Braintree were \nto pay into the Boston treasury a sum of money on \ntheir holdings in commutation. At the same time \nfurther large allotments at the Mount were made, \nincluding five hundred acres \"for the use of the \nCanoneere of Boston Wheresoever he is, or shall be, \nin the service thereof, from time to time,\" and \" two \nthousand acres to be sett apart for the use of (Boston) \nin the most Convenient place unallotted.\" \n\nThis agreement was made on the 11th of January, \n1639, some five months before the General Court \nacted on the petition to incorporate; and when the \ncourt did act, it made a further proviso that, if the in- \nhabitants of the newly-created town failed to fulfil the \ncovenant they had entered into, it should be in the \npower of Boston to recover its dues by action against \nthe Braintree people, collectively or individually. That \nthe burden thus imposed on Braintree was an unusual \nand most oppressive one does not need to be said. It \nwas the case of a poor, struggling community being \n\n\n1640. THE EARLIEST TAX-LEVY. 589 \n\ncompelled to buy out alien vested interests in the soil, \nwhich ought never to have existed. Accordingly, at \na later time it proved a fruitful source of heart-burn- \nings and litigation. Nevertheless the arrangement, \nfavorable or otherwise, seems to have been the best it \nwas possible to effect at the time, and under it Brain- \ntree came into existence as an independent political \ncommunity on what is now the 23d of May, 1640. \nThose dwelling in the new town were also made to \nrealize at once that political privileges carried with \nthem corresponding obligations, for by the same court \nthey were assessed twenty-five pounds in a total levy \nof twelve hundred pounds. In payment of this levy \nold silver plate was to be received at five shillings the \nounce, \" good old Indian corn, being clean and mer- \nchantable,\" at five shillings the bushel, summer wheat \nat seven shillings, and rye at six shillings. In which \nof these several staples the whole or any portion of \nthis earliest tax levy was paid, nowhere appears ; but \nthat it was paid admits of no doubt, and at the next \nsession of the General Court, held in Boston on the \n7th day of the following October, William Cheese- \nborough and Stephen Kinsley appeared, and took their \nseats as the first representatives of Braintree. \n\n\nCHAPTER II. \n\nTHE BRAINTREE NORTH PRECINCT CHURCH. \n\nThe original Braiutree settlement was along the \nshore of the bay, and on the upland and in the valleys \nadjacent thereto. Only by slow degrees did popula- \ntion work its way back among the hills and interior \nvalleys. In 1708 the church of Braintree was divided, \nand the original settlement became the North Precinct. \nIn 1792 this North Precinct was set off from the rest \nof the town, and became Quincy. \n\nUntil 1708, therefore, the original Braintree church \nwas the one church of the town ; from 1708 to 1792 it \nwas the North Precinct church ; from 1792 to 1820 it \nwas the Quincy church. The revised constitution of \nMassachusetts went into effect in 1820, and under its \nprovisions a complete separation of church from state \ntook place : but the habits of the peo^^le were fixed, \nand several years elapsed before this change in the or- \nganic law began to produce its full results ; ^ for people \nwent on attending divine worship in the meeting-house \nof their fathers, and in Quincy it was ten years yet \nbefore another meeting-house was built. Accordingly, \n\n1 So fixed was the \"belief that obligatory support of a church was \nessential to its continued existence that the late Judge Story voiced a \nvery common sentiment when, at the time the amended constitution \ntook effect, he expressed the opinion that in twenty-five years there \nwould not be a church open in Massachusetts in which the old reli- \ngious services would be held. \n\n\n1639-1828. THE COLONIAL PERIOD, 691 \n\nthe sole church of the Biaintree of 1639 was still, until \n1830, the sole church of Quincy. \n\nThe society had then worshipped in four successive \nbuildings, the last of which was in 1830 almost new, \nhavii^.g been finished only two years before. Built of \nstone, it was called a '' temple,\" and it replaced an old \nNew England meeting-house which for ninety-six years \nhad stood on the training-field in the centre of the \ntown. Thus, when this meeting-house of 1732 was re- \nmoved in 1828, the visible emblem which connected \nthe modern with the colonial town may be said to \nhave disappeared. The connecting link between two \nchains was broken. The period, therefore, of one \nhundred and eighty-nine years which elapsed after \nthe gathering of the First Church of Braintree, and \nbefore the pulling down and moving away of the \nthird meeting-house in Quincy, must historically be \nconsidered by itself. It was not the less one and \nthe same period because during it the colonies were \nsevered from Great Britain, and Quincy was severed \nfrom Braintree. These were both mere political \nchanges, scarcely affecting to a degree outwardly \nperceptible the occupations of the people who lived \nat what in 1635 was known as the Mount, or their \nmodes of life and thought, or their social and material \ncondition. The real elements of change in all these \nrespects were not political ; nor had they begun to \nmake their presence felt when the eighteenth century \ncame to its close. Thirty years later it was no longer \nso. The original Granite railway was built in Quincy \nin 1826 ; the first Massachusetts railroad company was \nincorporated in 1830. These events marked epochs. \nThey from top to bottom altered in America, as in \nEurope, — and at \" the Mount \" as in Massachusetts, \n\n\n592 THE BRAINTREE CHURCH. 1640-1830. \n\n— that which French and Indian wars, and wars of \nindependence, and church and municipal divisions, had \naffected scarcely at all. \n\nThe long period from 1640 to 1830 was therefore \nwith the Massachusetts towns the primitive period, — \nthat of formation. Though it led directly to the pres- \nent, it had little in common with the present. Never- \ntheless, during that period five generations lived on \nthe soil, and were buried in it ; and concerning these \nthere was, as a rule, little more to record. A simple, \nlaborious, unaggressive race, they were born and died, \n\n— each following generation much the same as the \ngeneration which preceded it. Wealth and population \nincreased slowly. With vessels of the same build, they \nfished familiar seas ; with similar utensils, they culti- \nvated the same fields. Dwelling in houses built on \nan identical plan, they preserved the old domestic and \nsocial customs. The outer world made itself little felt \nin the remote village community ; and the village com- \nmunity in no way influenced the outer world. Few ele- \nments of change existed, and accordingly little change \ntook place. The Quincy of 1830 was only the Brain- \ntree of 1640, a little more thickly peopled and a little \nmore prosperous. \n\nThe social and material conditions of the town dur- \ning tliis period of one hundred and ninety years will \nbe treated in another chapter. Meanwhile the year \n1830 brought the early theological period to a close. \nUp to that time the life of the church and the life of \nthe town were interwoven, and until 1824 parish and \ntown were legally one ; so the history of the church, \nas being the more ancient of the two, precedes that \nof the town. \n\nIn September, 1739, the Rev. John Hancock, father \n\n\n1637. THE FIRST MEETING-HOUSE. 593 \n\nof the patriot and then the North Precinct minister, \npreached two centennial sermons in the new meeting- \nhouse removed in 1828, but which then was new. In \none of these sermons he said, — \" This is the third \nhouse, in which we are now worshipping, that we and \nour fathers have built for the public worship of God.\" \nThere is reason to suppose that the second of these \nthree houses was built in the year 1666, as the quaint \nold weather-vane which surmounted it, still in exist- \nence, bears that date. Of the first Braintree meet- \ning-house, there remains no detailed account or de- \nscription. Completed, and in use, before the month \nof May, 1641, a familiar, recognized landmark, stand- \ning near the end of a short bridge even then referred \nto as \" old,\" this house \" for the public worship of \nGod\" was probably built during the summer of the \nyear 1637 for the use and under the supervision of \nJohn Wheelwright. Possibly it may have been even \nolder, and already serving as the \" Chapel of Ease \" \nat Mount Wollaston on that day of fast at the end \nof May, 1637, when Vane and Coddington, to empha- \nsize their dissent from the methods of their opponents, \nignored the Boston assembly, and went \" to keep the \nday at the Mount with Mr. Wheelwright.\" It may \nwell, therefore, have been that the Fast-day services \nof 1637, on what now is reckoned as the 3d of June, \nwere the first ever solemnized within those newly- \nerected walls, standing that day fresh from the hands \nof the builders ; while Vane was there to lend dignity \nand interest to the event, as well as give public evi- \ndence of his sympathy with the preacher. If such \nperchance was the case, a new interest attaches to those \nwalls, and to the church which within them, a little \nlater on, began its organized life. John Wheelwright, \n\n\n594 THE BRAINTREE CHURCH. 1639. \n\nthe schoolmate and friend of Cromwell, the proscribed \nin two continents, there preached that day in presence \nof young Harry Vane, moving steadily and fatefully \nforward from the chair of state in Boston to the block \non Tower-hill. \n\nWhether this was so or not, that first church edi- \nfice stood in 1G40 on rising ground just south of the \nplace where the principal travelled way of the little \nsettlement — the way which a few years later became \na part of the colonial coast-road connecting Boston \nand Plymouth — crossed a brook, then and subse- \nquently known as the Town River. At the time the \nfirst meeting-house was built, the road could have been \nhardly more than a well-beaten trail, for it was not \nformally laid out until at least seven years later, in \n1648. The brook, which for some distance higher up \nhad forced its way through a well-nigh impenetrable \ntangle from which the larger forest animals had \nhardly vanished and which yet swarmed with reptile \nlife, here flowed over a hard gravel bottom between \ntwo converging bits of upland. It was a fording- \nplace, — a natural point of crossing. For that reason \nthe meeting-house was. put there. It was a point con- \nvenient for those living on both sides of the water- \ncourse. \n\nThe meeting-house stood in the open, and when \nthe \" country highway \" from Weymouth to Dorches- \nter was formally laid out, in 1648, it here diverged, \npassing the building at both its ends, for it faced east \nand west. The diverging ways then shortly turned \nand joined again. At no great distance from the \nfront of the meeting-house, looking westward, lay the \ntangled bottom through which the Town River slug- \ngishly crept. Beyond this, and half a mile or so \n\n\n1639. THE CHURCH GATHERING. 595 \n\naway, rose the rough, heavily-wooded granite hills, \nwhile to the east there stretched a broad, and compar- \natively level, upland plain. Such in 1640 was the \ncentre of the town. \n\nIn the humble church edifice, which, nevertheless, \nwas \" as fair a meeting-house \" as that people could \nprovide, William Tompson, *' a very holy man, who \nhad been an instrument of much good at Accomen- \nticus,\" was formally ordained as first regular minister. \nAt that time the gathering of a new church was a \ngreat event in Massachusetts, — another candle was \nlighted in the tabernacle. The gathering at the \nMount also was a special occasion. A true church — \none to which none but orthodox doctrines were to be \npreached — was to be established in the Antinomian \nhot-bed. The last vestiges of the banished Wheel- \nwright's teachings were to be eradicated, and his flock, \nrenouncing \" the devil, the wicked world, a sinful \nflesh, wdth all the remnants of Anti-Christian pollution \nwherein sometimes we have walked, and all our for- \nmer evil ways,\" were to become members of the com- \nmon fold. \n\nOf those who were present, or of those who took \npart in the services, no record has come down. Win- \nthrop noted the event in his journal, but there is no- \nthing to indicate that either he or Dudley, during that \nyear Governor and Deputy-Governor, were there. \nProbably Peter Hobart, that \" bold man who would \nspeak his mind,\" came over from Hingham ; while \nfrom Dorchester came Richard Mather, together with \nhis young associate, John Wilson, son of the pastor of \nBoston, and himself just graduated from Cambridge. \nThe Rev. John Allen may have found his way through \nthe forest paths from Dedham, as Wilson and Cotton \n\n\n696 THE BRAINTREE CHURCH. 1639. \n\nsailed across the bay from Boston. Earnest, devout \nmen, they gathered from far and near in the primi- \ntive wilderness meeting-house on that September \nday, and there extended the right hand of fellowship \nto the little congregation who now covenanted one \nwith another \" to worship the Lord in Spirit and in \nTruth, and to walk in brotherly love.\" The church \nthen founded was destined to centuries of unbroken \nexistence. \n\nThe pastorate of William Tompson extended \nthrough a period of nineteen years. Represented by \nthe writers of his own time as having been \" a very \npowerful and successful preacher,\" and one \" abound- \ning in zeal for the propagation of the gospel,\" Tomp- \nson was likewise of a \" very melancholic mien and of \na- crazy body,\" and his ministry at Braintree can be \naccounted successful neither for himself nor his people. \nA graduate of Oxford, and belonging to that earliest \ngeneration of New England clergymen who had been \n^settled over English churches, the new Braintree pas- \ntor resigned a living in Lancashire in order to come \nto New England, and landed in Boston at about the \ntime the Antinomian Synod of 1637 was sitting. \nSettled at Braintree in September, 1639, in the fol- \nlowing March Henry Flynt was ordained as teacher \nof the church, which would seem to indicate that the \npastor from the very beginning proved unequal to \nthe performance of all his duties ; for the teacher in \nthe early New England churches was practically an \nassociate pastor,^ and it is not likely that a small and \npoor community, such as Braintree, assumed with- \n\n1 As to the distinctive functions of Pastor and Teacher in the \nearly New England church organization, see Walker's Thomas Hooker, \n69-70. \n\n\n1642. REV. WILLIAM TOMPSON. 597 \n\nout reason the support of two ministers. In any event \nthe society seemed not unwilling to allow Mr. Tomp- \nson to seek other fields of usefulness, and in 1642 his \nbrother ministers selected him with two others to go \nforth on a strange sort of missionary service among \nthe Church of England heathen of Virginia ; for a \ncry had come up from \"many well-disposed people, \n... to the elders here, bewailing their sad condition \nfor want of the means of salvation, and earnestly en- \ntreating a supply of faithful ministers, whom, upon \nexperience of their gifts and godliness, they might \ncall to office.\" So far from turning a deaf ear to \nthis call, the Massachusetts elders \"accounted it no \nsmall honor that God had put upon his poor churches \nhere, that other parts of the world should seek to us \nfor help in this kind ; \" and so, the letters from Vir- \nginia having been \"openly read in Boston upon a \nlecture-day, the elders met, and set a day apart to \nseek God in it.\" This done, they made choice for \nthe work in hand of three of their number \" who \nmight most likely be spared ; \" and among the three \nwas Mr. Tompson, his church having two ministers. \nAccordingly, on the ^^^ of October, 1642, Mr. Tomp- \nson set out for Taunton, the first stage on the way \nto Virginia, in company with the Rev. John Knowles \nof Watertown, \" a godly man and a prime scholar,\" \nwho only, besides himself, accepted the call. \n\nTheir journey was over what now is a familiar \nroute, for they were \" to meet the bark at Narragan- \nsett ; \" in other words, they were to go to Norfolk, \nin Virginia, by way of Newport and New York, or \nAquidneck and New Amsterdam, as those places Were \nthen called. The \" bark \" referred to was probably \none of the sloops or ketches of those days, — little one \n\n\n598 THE BRAINTREE CHURCH. 1642-3. \n\nand two masted crafts used in the coasting trade, — \nand George Fox has described how, thirty years later, \nhe made the same voyage from Newport to New York, \ncoming to anchor one night before Fisher's Island, \nwhere '' there fell abundance of rain, and our sloop \nbeing open, we were exceeding wet.\" It was nearly \nthree months before the missionaries reached their \ndestination ; for at first they were wind-bound in Nar- \nragansett Bay, and then, in passing through Hell- \nGate, their boat was swept upon the rocks and so \ndamaged that they barely succeeded in reaching the \nshore. Cotton Mather says of Tompson in this emer- \ngency, — \n\n\" Upon a ledge of craggy rocks near stav'd, \nHis Bible in his bosom thrusting, sav'd ; \nThe Bible, the best of cordial of his heart, \n' Come floods, come flames,' cry'd he, ' we'll never part.' \" \n\nThe shipwrecked missionaries received \" slender en- \ntertainment \" at the hands of Governor William Kieft, \nthe Dutch commandant at New Amsterdam, who had \nno fondness for New Englanders ; but Isaac Allerton, \nformerly of Plymouth though then of New Haven, \nchanced to be there, and exerted himself greatly on \nbehalf of his countrymen. Through his assistance an- \nother pinnace was procured, and in the dead of win- \nter the three ministers set sail for Virginia. They \nencountered much foul weather, and the difficulty and \ndanger through which they reached their destination \ncaused them to entertain grave \" question whether \ntheir call were of God or not.\" Once in Virginia, \nthey were \" bestowed in several places \" where they \n\" found loving and liberal entertainment ; \" and the \nchange to another and less rigorous climate seems to \nhave proved most beneficial to Mr. Tompson, who \n\n\n1643. DANIEL GOOKINS. 599 \n\nwrote back to his friends that he was better in health \nand spirits than at any time since he came over from \nEngland. \n\nBut Virginia has never proved a fruitful field for \nNew England workers, whether religious or political, \nand the civil authorities there now looked askance at \nthis earnest attempt at propagandism. Accordingly \nthey soon put a stop to the public preaching of the \nnewcomers, on the ground that they did not conform \nto the orders of the Church of England. Yet, if we \ncan believe the report made on their return by the \nmissionaries, the people, \" their hearts being much in- \nfluenced with an earnest desire after the gospel,\" con- \ntinued to resort to them in private houses ; seeing \nwhich, the rulers \" did in a sense drive them out, hav- \ning made an order that all such as would not conform \nto the discipline of the English Church should depart \nthe country by such a day.\" \n\nThe summer of 1643 accordingly found Mr. Tomp- \nson and his associates back with their New England \nflocks ; nor can their Virginia labors have been ac- \ncounted fruitful, inasmuch as they seem to have made \nbut a single convert. He, Daniel Gookins by name, \nfollowed his teachers back to Massachusetts, where \nat a later day he became a man of note; so that as \nCotton Mather tunefully expressed it, \n\n' ' by Tompson's pains, \nChrist and New England a dear Gookins gains.\" \n\nDuring his absence a severe bereavement had fallen \non the unhappy Braintree clergyman. He had left his \nwife, who is described as \" a godly young woman and \na comfortable help to him,\" in charge of a family of \nsmall children, with scanty means of support. She \ndied ; and he returned to find his home broken up \n\n\n600 THE BRAINTREE CHURCH. 1643-66. \n\nand his offspring scattered, though it is said they were \n\" well disposed of among his godly friends.\" Marry- \ning again some years later, the next glimpse which is \nobtained of Tompsou, through Governor Winthrop's \ndiary, is singularly illustrative of the time. In 1648 a \nsynod met at Cambridge for the purpose of framing a \ncode of church discipline. Before this representative \ngathering the Rev. John Allen, of Dedham, delivered \na discourse which proved '' a very godly, learned, and \nparticular handling of near all the doctrines and appli- \ncations \" touching the matter in hand. \n\n\" It fell out about the midst of his sermon, there came \na snake into the seat, where many of the elders sate behind \nthe preacher. It came in at the door where people stood \nthick upon the stairs. Divers of the elders shifted from it, \nbut Mr. Thomson, one of the elders of Braintree (a man of \nmuch faith), trod upon the head of it, and so held it with \nhis foot and stafE with a small pair of grains,^ until it was \nkilled. This being so remarkable, and nothing falling out but \nby divine providence, it is out of doubt the Lord discovered \nsomewhat of his mind in it. The serpent is the devil ; the \nsynod, the representative of the churches of Christ in New \nEngland. The devil had formerly and lately attempted \ntheir disturbance and dissolution ; but their faith in the seed \nof woman overcame him and crushed his head.\" \n\nThe mental and physical benefit which Tompson \nderived from his sojourn in Virginia was but tempo- \nrary, and as he advanced in years his infirmities grew \nupon him. He seems to have had a morbid tendency, \nwhich at times verged on insanity. Cotton Mather's \nexplanation of this, and of the course of treatment \nadopted for its cure, is curiously suggestive. There \nwere then no insane asylums. \n\n1 A prong, or fork ; obsolete. \n\n\n1666. ''BALNEUM DIABOLI.\" GOl \n\n\" Satan, who had been after an extraordinary manner \nirritated by the evangelic labors of this holy man, obtained \nthe liberty to sift him ; and hence, after this worthy man \nhad served the Lord Jesus Christ in the church of our New \nEnglish Braintree, he fell into that Balneum diaboli, 'a \nblack melancholy,' which for divers years almost wholly \ndisabled him for the exercise of his ministry ; but the end \nof this melancholy was not so tragical as it sometimes is with \nsome, whom yet, because of their exemplary lives, we dare \nnot censure for their prodigious deaths. . . . Accordingly, \nthe pastors and the faithful of the churches in the neighbor- \nhood ' kept resisting of the devil ' in his cruel assaults upon Mr. \nTompson, by continually ' drawing near to God,' with ardent \nsupplications on his behalf : and by praying always, without \nfainting, without ceasing, they saw the devil at length flee \nfrom him, and God himself draw near unto him, with unut- \nterable joy. The end of that man is peace.\" \n\nThis means that Mr. Tompson did not commit sui- \ncide, and towards the close of his life the cloud lifted \nfrom him. He died on the 10th of December, 1666, \nhaving, it is said, resigned his pulpit some seven years \nbefore ; but at the time of his death he was still au \ninhabitant of Braintree, and would seem, from the \nfollowing quaint entry made by the Rev. Samuel \nDanforth in the records of the neighboring church of \nRoxbury, to have yet retained some pastoral relations \nwith his former flock : — \n\n\"12. lO'\" m. mr. William Tompson Pastor to the \nchurch at Braintree departed this life in the 69 year of his \nage. He had been held under the power of melancholy for \nthe space of eight yeares. During which time He had \ndiverse lucid intervales, and sweet revivings, especially the \nweek before he dyed, in so much that he assayed to go to \nthe church and administer the Lord's supper to them, but \nhis body was so weak that he could neither go nor ride.\" \n\n\n602 THE BRAINTREE CHURCH. 1666. \n\nIn the copy of verses bestowed on Tompson in the \nMaguaiia by Cotton Mather, after his usual wont in \nsuch cases, there is one line of unusual strength, in \nwhich, referring to the departed '' light,\" whom Oxford \n\" with Tongues and Arts doth trim,\" the writer speaks \nof his \n\n\"Tall, comely presence, life unsoil'd with stains,\" \n\nthough further on a grim and pitiful gleam is thrown \non the treatment for insanity in vogue during the \nseventeenth century in lines which tell us that \n\n\" By his bed-side an Hebrew sword there lay. \nWith which at last he drove the devil away.\" \n\nBoth Tompson and his second wife would seem to \nhave been lacking in the quality of thrift, and during \nthe closing years of his life the former minister of \nBraintree was wretchedly poor, — so poor, indeed, \nthat in March, 1665, a public collection was taken up \nfor him in the Dorchester church, which amounted to \n£6 9s., \" besides notes for corn, and other things, \nabove 30s.\" ^ Not without reason, therefore, Mather \nwrote of the dead clergyman, when at last he had \n\" labored into rest,\" \n\n\" His inventory then, with John's, was took ; \nA rough coat, girdle, with the sacred book.\" \n\nThe body of William Tompson lies in the old bur}^- \ning ground of Quincy, and the original stone, bear- \ning quaint witness to his learning, piety and force \nas a divine, still marks the spot. He left by his two \nmarriages numerous descendants, both sons and \ndaughters ; but no trace of his lineage is now found \nin the town over which first he ministered. \n\nTeacher Henry Flynt, who became pastor on the \n\n^ See Dorchester Town Records [181]. \n\n\n1640. * HENRY FLY NT. 603 \n\nresignation of Mr. Tompson in 1659, survived the \nlatter only one year and four months, dying on the \n27th of April, 1668. Born, it is supposed, in Derby- \nshire, England, he landed in New England in Oc- \ntober, 1635, being then about twenty-nine years old. \nComing over at the same time, if not in the same \nvessel, with young Sir Harry Vane, Henry Flynt \nseems to have been in political sympathy with him, \nwhile theologically he was an ardent admirer of Cot- \nton. Indeed, almost the only fact recorded of Flynt \nby Mather in the Magnalia is that, having twin sons \nborn to him in 1656, he named one John and the other \nCotton, in memory of his revered mentor, then four \nyears dead ; but Mather does not add that the chil- \ndren in question lived but a few weeks, for, born on \nthe 16th of September, their deaths were registered \non the 20th of the following November. It has al- \nready been mentioned that Mr. Flynt, during the \nAntinomian controversy, adhered stanchly to Wheel- \nwright.^ Accordingly, though his name is appended \nas teacher to the Braintree church covenant of Sep- \ntember 16, 1639, and Winthrop speaks of him as \" a \ngodly man \" then ordained, it was not until the suc- \nceeding May that he made his submission to the Gen- \neral Court, acknowledging his sin in subscribing his \nname to the church of Boston memorial of March, \n1637. As his formal ordination did not take place \nuntil March 17, 1640, it has been confidently sur- \nmised 2 that the postponement was in order to afford \nthe distinguished young divine ample opportunity \nfor recantation. If so, he at last availed himself of \nit ; but there is no reason to suppose that in doing so \nhe imitated the discreditable zeal which Cotton had \n\n1 Sujjra, 545. ^ Savage, note in Winthrop, i. *247. \n\n\n604 THE BR A I NT REE CHURCH. 1668. \n\nalready shown in the work of hunting down his former \nassociates ; though it was asserted that through the \nexertions of its new teacher Braintree was \" purged \nfrom the sour leaven of those sinful opinions that be- \ngan to spread,\" and if any such remained there they \nwere very covert. Of Mr. Flynt's later doctrinal \nviews nothing is known ; it is simply recorded of him \nthat in his day he bore \" the character of a gentleman \nremarkable for his piety, learning, wisdom and fidel- \nity in his office.\" Unlike Mr. Tompson, the Flynts, \nhusband and wife, appear to have been thrifty people, \nand the teacher died in comfortable circumstances. \nBy his will he left the \" great lot \" of eighty acres \ngranted to him by the town of Boston in 1640 to one \nson, and his dwelling-house, with the two lots it stood \nupon, to another son, both bequests subject to a life- \nestate in their mother, provided she remained un- \nmarried. Then his will closed with this quaint pro- \nvision : — \" For the present, I know not what portion \nof my estate to assign to my wife, in case God call \nher to marriage, otherwise than as the law of the \ncountry does provide in that case, accounting all that \nI have too little for her, if I had something else to be- \nstow on my children.\" Teacher Flynt's wife, whose \nmaiden name was Margery Hoar, had evidently been \na good and useful helpmeet to him ; and indeed it is \nrecorded, on the stone which marks the spot in the \nold graveyard where side by side they are buried, \nthat, like her husband, descended from an \" ancient \nand good \" English family, she was also \" a gentle-wo- \nman of piety, prudence, and peculiarly accomplished \nfor instructing young gentlewomen, many being sent \nto her from other towns, especially from Boston.\" \nMrs. Margery Flynt died in March, 1G87, having sur- \n\n\n1687. A GREAT PROGENY. 605 \n\nvived her husband nearly twenty years. During that \nperiod \" God [did not again] call her to marriage.\" \n\nHenry Flynt left a numerous family, though no de- \nscendants of his name now live in Quincy. It was a \ngranddaughter of his, Dorothy, child of the Rev. Jo- \nsiah Flynt, of Dorchester, who married Judge Ed- \nmund Quincy, of Braintree, and from them a progeny \nthan which none in Massachusetts has been more dis- \ntinguished, traces descent. A daughter of hers was \nthat \" Dorothy Q.\" whose name has been embalmed \nin the familiar verses written upon her portrait by the \nmost famous of her offspring in the Holmes family. \nFrom her, also, are descended the Wendells, the Jack- \nsons, the Lowells and the Quincy s ; and indeed it is \nfrom Josiah Flynt the last family derives that given \nname which, handed down from generation to genera- \ntion, is in Massachusetts almost conceded to it as a \npeculiar patronymic.^ It was another Dorothy Quincy \nwho in 1775 became the wife of John Hancock. The \noriginal Dorothy Flynt Quincy (1678-1737) dwelt \nin the house which Colonel Edmund Quincy built in \nBraintree in 1685, and which still remains one of the \nmost interesting of all our colonial structures, quaintly \ntypical of bygone times. In this house, still looking \ntowards the brook, is the room in which Judge Sewall \nslept one rainy night in March, 1712. Next to it is \nthe room still known as Tutor Flynt's chamber, for it \nwas long occupied by Dorothy's brother Henry, for \nmore than half a century a tutor at Harvard College \nand a fellow of the corporation through sixty-five \nyears. To this day, indeed, the grandson of the old \n\n^ It was on some festive occasion wittily said of the Qnincys that, \nwhile witli other families the descent was from sire to son, in their \ncase it was from 'Siah to 'Siah. \n\n\n606 THE BRAINTREE CHURCH. 1668-72. \n\nBraintree teacher is a tradition of the university. A \ngenuine product of New England soil, his curt, dry \nsayings are still repeated. He lived until 1760, and \nleft behind hiui the reputation of \" a man of sound \nlearning, of acute and discriminating intellect ; firm \nbut moderate ; steadfast in opinion but without obsti- \nnacy ; zealous and faithful in the discharge of his va- \nrious duties.\" He lies buried in the ancient grave- \nyard close to the buildings of the college which he \nserved so long. \n\nAfter the death of Teacher Flynt the church of \nBraintree, to use the language of a subsequent pastor, \n\" fell into unhappy divisions, one being for Paul, and \nanother for Apollos (as is too often the case in desti- \ntute churches), and were without a settled ministry \nabove four years.\" No definite account of the cause \nof strife in this case has come down, but the contest \nwas a heated one, in which \" many uncomfortable ex- \npressions passed about.\" In the course of it things \noccurred which led some to suspect that the \" sinful \nopinions \" of John Wheelwright were perhaps not so \ncovert in Braintriee as had been asserted. That \" sour \nleaven \" may still have worked ; for Mr. Josiah Flynt, \nthe recently graduated son of the previous minister \nand one of the candidates for settlement, was openly \ncharged with uttering \" divers dangerous heterodoxies, \ndelivered, and that without caution, in his public \npreaching.\" In view of this dissension, more than \none day was set apart by the church \" to seek the Lord \nby fasting and prayer,\" and at the frequent meetings \nthere was much \" uncomfortable debate,\" and at one \nof them at least \" an awful division.\" A widespread \nscandal went abroad over these proceedings, and on \nthe 25th of July, 1669, \" God sent a very solemn, \n\n\n1671. ''AN AWFUL DIVISIONS 607 \n\nawakening message to the church \" by the mouth of \nMr. Eliot, it would seem the Indian apostle. But that \ndid not prevent the church from meeting on the 21st \nof the following January, and acknowledging \" sev- \neral things scandalous and offensive, one to another.\" \nFinally it was determined to call a counsel of sister \nchurches, and even then a debate took place, \" wherein \nmuch provocation to God and each other did appear.\" \nWearied as well as distressed by the angry turmoil, \nJosiah Flynt at about this time received a call from \nthe church at Dorchester, which he accepted ; and \nthere he remained until his premature death, in 1680. \nMeanwhile Braintree continued for nearly two years \nlonger in a \" destitute, divided state.\" At last things \ncame to such a pass that in May, 1671, the County \nCourt interfered, and sent out letters \" in which they \ndid sterr up [the Dorchester] church together with \nthe Church at the North end of Boston and Deadham \nand Weymouth ; for to send by ther messengers for \nto enquier into the reason of ther great difference and \nslownes in providing a minester of the word \" ^ in \nBraintree ; then, as this mission resulted in nothing, \nthe court again took the matter in hand, and in No- \nvember, after due consideration of \" the many means \nthat have been used with the church of Braintree, and \nhitherto nothing done to effect, as to the obtaining \nthe ordinances of Christ among them,\" — taking this \ninto consideration, the court ordered and desired Mr. \nMoses Fiske '' to improve his labors in preaching the \nword at Braintree until the church there agree, and \nobtain supply for the work of the ministry.\" Mr. \nFiske seems to have obeyed this command in the true \nchurch militant spirit ; for, he says, \" being ordered by \n\n^ Dorchester Church Records, 64. \n\n\n608 THE BRAINTREE CHURCH. 1672-1708. \n\nthe court, and advised by the reverend Elders and \nother friends, I went u}) from tlie honored Mr. Ed- \nward Tyng's, with two of the brethren of this church \nsent to accompany me, being the Saturday, to preach \nGod's word unto them.\" The next day, December 3, \n1671, he took his place in the Braintree pulpit, and \ndelivered his first discourse, not failing at the close of \nthe afternoon service to apologize as to his coming. \nBut so well did he \" improve his labors \" on this occa- \nsion that the next day \" about twenty of the brethren \ncame to visit him, manifesting (in the name of the \nchurch) their ready acceptance of what the learned \nCourt had done, and thanking him for his compliance \ntherewith.\" On the 24th of February, 1672, Mr. \nFiske received a unanimous call from the weary \nchurch, and on the 11th of the following September \nhe was formally ordained ; or, as he himself phrased \nit, that was \" the day of my solemn espousals to this \nchurch and congregation.\" \n\nAt the time of his ordination Mr. Fiske was thirty \nyears old ; and his pastorate lasted thirty-six years, \nuntil his death, in 1708, an important period in the \nhistory of the town and church ; for during it not \nonly was the second parish organized, but a small \nEpiscopal society, one of the earliest in New England, \nwas formed. Of the Rev. Moses Fiske himself, his \nreligious tenets or intellectual force, not much has \nbeen handed down, though it is recorded of him that, \nthrough a long pastorate he \"was zealously diligent \nfor God and the good of men, — one who thought no \nlabor, cost or suffering too dear a price for the good \nof his people.\" \n\nThe manner in which the New England clergy \nintermarried, continually, so to speak, breeding-in, has \n\n\n\"A FRUITFUL VINE.\" 609 \n\noften been remarked upon, and was certainly sugges- \ntive ; for, according to all known laws of generation \nand heredity, the result should have been of excep- \ntional interest. That it was not, is probably due to \nthe necessary limitations of theological development, \nof which, in New England, the Rev. Cotton Mather, \nperhaps, indicated the climax. Mr. Fiske was a case \nin point. Himself the son of a clergyman, he married \nsuccessively two daughters of clergymen ; three of his \nown daughters — Mary, Anne and Margaret — mar- \nried clergymen; and two of his sons were clergy- \nmen. By his first wife, a daughter of Mr. Symmes, \nof Charlestown, Mr. Fiske had fourteen children. \nThrough a period of nineteen years the unfortunate \nwoman gave birth to infants on an average of one \nto each seventeen months, and two were born at sep- \narate births within a twelvemonth. Naturally several \nof them died in early infancy ; and at last the mother \nwas herself released by death from incessant child- \nbearing. Such cases were not unusual in early New \nEngland, and of Mrs. Sarah Symmes, the grand- \nmother of Mrs. Fiske, it is recorded that \" her cour- \nage exceeded her stature and she raised up ten chil- \ndren to people this American wilderness.\" She was \nthe mother of thirteen. By his two marriages, Mr. \nFiske had sixteen children ; yet his family was small \ncompared with that of Samuel Bass, the senior elder \nof his church, who died in 1694, after having sat in \nthe deacon's seat for more than fifty years, and since \nthe first organization of the church. At his death \nDeacon Bass numbered an offspring of one hundred \nand sixty-two souls ; while among his contemporaries \nand the parishioners of Mr. Fiske, Henry Neal was \nthe father of twenty-one children, and William Raw- \n\n\n610 THE BRAINTREE CHURCH. \n\nson had at one time twenty living sons and daughters \nthe fruit of his loins by a single wife. Of Mrs. Sarah \nThayer, wife of Ephraim Thayer, who died in 1751, \na local bard recorded at the time, — \n\n\" Also she was a fruitful vine, \nThe truth I may relate, — \nFovirteen was of her body born, \nAnd lived to man's estate. \n\n\" From these did spring a numerous race. \nOne hundred thirty-two ; \nSixty and six each sex alike, \nAs I declare to you. \n\n\" And one thing more remarkable. \nWhich here I shall record : \nShe 'd fourteen children with her. \nAt the table of her Lord.\" \n\nThe simplicity of life and the severe economy habit- \nual in those days is shown in the fact that Mr. Fiske \nbrought up his family of sixteen children, sending \nthree sons to college and marrying off his daughters, \non a stipend which never exceeded ninety pounds a \nyear, and which was usually sixty or eighty pounds, \npayable in part in corn and wood at stated valuations, \nor, as was expressed in the vote of the year 1704, *' in \nmoney or in Indian corn at Two shillings and six \npence per bushel, and barley molt at Two shillings \nand six pence per bushel or in other good merchant- \nable pay at money price.\" \n\nWhen in 1700 the new century began, the parish \nnumbered about one hundred and forty families, rep- \nresenting an entire population of not far from eight \nhundred souls; but those composing this population \nno longer dwelt together in the neighborhood of \nMount Wollaston and about the stone meeting-house. \nThey were scattered over a wide extent of territory ; \n\n\n1695-1700. DIFFERENTIATION. 611 \n\nand this fact led to bitter contentions in the original \nchurch, which, recalling the evil days preceding Mr. \nFiske's pastorate, saddened its closing years. In point \nof fact, town and church were passing through a nat- \nural stage of growth. That was being enacted on a \nsmall stage in Braintree which, when enacted on the \nlarger stage of nationality, forms the most interesting \npart of history. A process of differentiation was going \non, and that process, before it completes itself, is apt, \non the smaller as on the larger stage, to call forth a \ngreat deal of human nature. It certainly did so in \nthe case of Braintree. \n\nThe struggle seems first to have assumed definite \nshape about the year 1695. The old meeting-house \nwas then pronounced inadequate to the growing needs \nof Braintree. It was small, inconveniently situated \nand out of repair. Those dwelling in the south \npart of the town complained that it was \"very irk- \nsome, especially in winter, to come so far as most of \nthem came to meeting, and through such bad ways, \nwhereby the Lord's day, which is a day of rest, was to \nthem a day of labor rather.\" Accordingly, the first \nproposition was that a new and larger church edifice, \nsufficient for the whole town, should be built at a \nmore central point. This did not meet the views of \nold Colonel Edmund Quincy and others, who lived in \nthe northern limits ; consequently they set to work to \nprevent anything being done at all, and at a private \nmeeting held at Colonel Quincy's they \"did agree \namong themselves to shingle the old house, pretend- \ning to be at the whole charge themselves.\" But, none \nthe less, \" several pounds were afterwards gathered by \na rate upon the whole town.\" \n\nThe project of a new and common meeting-house at \n\n\n612 THE BRAINTREE CHURCH. 1705-6. \n\na more generally convenient site having been defeated \nby means such as this, the organization of a separate \nchurch was next agitated. This was opposed, for the \nreason that such a secession would throw the burden \nof the minister's salary on a smaller number. Ac- \ncordingly in 1704-5 party feeling ran high. Two \nchurch meetings were held in January, whereat there \nwas \"much debate and some misapprehension about \nchurch discipline,\" by reason whereof there was \" much \nsinful discourse \" in the town. \" Nine of the church \nwithdrew from the Lord's table,\" and one of Parson \nFiske's adherents pathetically remarked, as he noted \nthese events, \" the disorders among us call for tears \nand lamentations rather than to be remembered.\" \n\nGetting no satisfaction, but, on the contrary, being \n\" squib'd and floured by several of the other end of the \ntown,\" those of the south part in the winter of 1705 \nbegan to talk *' very hotly of building a meeting-house \nby themselves ; \" and on the 2d of May, 1706, the \nframe of the new edifice was raised. In the autumn \nof that year it was so far finished that they might \ncomfortably meet therein. The matter had been \" hith- \nerto carried on in a way of great contention and dis- \norder ; \" but a final difficulty, and the most serious of \nall, now presented itself. The people of the south had \norganized themselves into a new church, but the people \nof the north wholly declined to release them from their \nshare of the burden of supporting the minister of the \nold church. An angry town-meeting was held to con- \nsider this matter on November 25, 1706, and the \nseceders certainly made what seems now a fair and \neven a liberal proposition. They offered to maintain \ntheir own church, and also to pay <£20 of Mr. Fiske's \nsalary. Even this was not satisfactory, and the town \n\n\n1707. \" NAPHTALir 613 \n\niDsistecl that their \" south end neighbors and brethren \nshould not be released from bearing their usual part of \nthe charge for the support of the Rev. Moses Fiske, \nwhich they were forward in the day of it to vote for \nand agree to.\" \n\nThe matter was then carried before the General \nCourt ; but there no immediate action was taken, and \nin the spring of 1707 the contention and disorder were \ngreater than ever. A council of churches was sug- \ngested, and agreed to on the 27th of April. Accord- \ningly, on the 7th of May delegates from nine neigh- \nboring societies met within the stone walls of the old \nBraintree meeting-house and listened to the aggrieved \nbrethren. Those composing this council do not seem \nto have succeeded in pouring oil on the troubled wa- \nters ; and, on the 10th of the following September, the \nRev. Hugh Adams was formally ordained as first pas- \ntor of the South Church, which forthwith petitioned \nthe General Court to be regularly set off as a distinct \nprecinct. This prayer was dated in the true theological \nspirit of the time, — \" From (Naphtali, if your honors \nplease so to name our neighborhood, or) South Brain- \ntree ; \" the significance of which grim Puritan jest is \nfound in Genesis (xxx. 8) : — \" And Rachael said, \nWith great wrestlings have I wrestled with my sister, \nand I have prevailed : and she called his name Naph- \ntali.\" Nevertheless, the dwellers in the south did not \nprevail on this occasion, for five days later, after an \noral hearing, the General Court voted that, during \nthe exercise of his ministry by Mr. Fiske, \" the whole \ntown \" was obliged, in conformity with the provincial \nlaw then in force, to raise annually whatever sum was \nvoted for his support. Meanwhile steps were to be \ntaken towards forming a second precinct, the inhab- \n\n\n614 THE BRAINTREE CHURCH. 1707. \n\nitants of which, during Mr. Fiske's ministry, were \" to \ntake care by subscription to raise a maintenance for \nthe minister there.\" \n\nIt is, of course, obvious now that the separation pro- \nposed was a mere question of time. Considering how \nuniversal and even obligatory church attendance then \nwas, the cause for present wonder is that through \nmore than sixty years the people of so large a terri- \ntory were content to travel, summer and winter, such \ndistances over their primitive roads to reach the com- \nmon meeting-house. It is doubtful whether even the \nintense religious sense of the period, backed though it \nwas by both spirit and letter of law, would have in- \nduced them to do so, had they not been impelled by \nthe desire to gratify a social, as well as a spiritual, \ncraving. The Sabbath and the meeting-house were all \nthey had to relieve the monotony of week-day exist- \nence. In their widely-separated houses were no news- \npapers, fewer books, and fewer stiU strange faces; \nand so they eagerly went to meeting unmindful of \nweather or of distance, because there they met friends \nand relatives, while between the services they gossiped \nover the news. Whispers might then reach them, also, \nof events in that great outside world from which in \ntheir homes they were as much excluded as though \nencircled by a Chinese wall. \n\nThe separation of old Braintree into several church \nprecincts also foreshadowed a further political separa- \ntion not less desirable. But the slow course of growth \nand sequence of events during the colonial period of \nNew England life is a characteristic of that time and \npeople to which attention will frequently be called in \nthe course of this narrative, for it contrasts strangely \nwith what this generation has been accustomed to in \n\n\n1708. MOSES FISKE. 615 \n\nmore recent times and in other parts of the country. \nNowhere is the slowness of the pace at which that \npeople were content to move more strikingly illustrated \nin the case of Braintree than by the fact that, while \nthe development of two thirds of a century preceded a \nseparation into precincts, nearly ninety years more had \nto pass away before the original town was divided. \n\nThough foiled in its efforts for complete indepen- \ndence before the General Court of 1707, the South \nPrecinct had not long to wait. The court had held it \nliable for its share of the support of the pastor of the \nold church during the ministry of Mr. Fiske only. \nMr. Fiske's second wife, Anna, died on the 24th of \nJuly, following this decision. The widow of Daniel \nQuincy, a peculiar interest attaches to Mrs. Fiske as \nthe mother of that John Quincy, of Mount WoUaston, \nfrom whom the North Precinct subsequently took its \nname as a town ; and who, a youth of eighteen, gradu- \nated at Harvard College during the summer in which \nhis mother's death took place. Parson Fiske did not \nlong survive his wife. At the time of her death he \nseems to have been in feeble health, and a few days \nlater he was stricken with \" a sore malignant fever, \nand on the 10th day [of August], being Tuesday, \nabout one of the clock, p. M., he died, willingly, \npatiently, blessed God, and forgave all his enemies. \n. . . He was, with suitable solemnity and great lamen- \ntations, interred at Braintree in his own tomb the \n12th day.\" Of him an humble but devout parishioner \nwrote that he was \" a dilligent, faitliful laborer in the \nharvest of Jesus Christ ; studious in the Holy Scrip- \ntures, having an extraordinary gift in prayer above \nmany good men, and in preaching equal to the most, \ninferior to few.\" \n\n\n616 THE NORTH PRECINCT CHURCH. 1709-10. \n\nMr. Fiske's death was iu one respect timely. It \nsettled once for all the vexed question of parish divi- \nsion. On the 3d of November following, a town and \n})arish meeting was held, at which it was voted that \nthenceforth \" there should be two distinct precincts \nor societies in this town, for the more regular and \nconvenient upholding of the worship of God.\" The \nill-feeling which had existed between the sections \nthen gradually passed away ; though, as late as 1710, \nthe good offices of neighboring ministers seem to have \nbeen called for, and on the 19th of February their \n\" advice for reconciliation \" was read from the pulpit. \nAs usual in the Massachusetts of that time, a special \nfast was thereupon ordered \"on account of the late \ndisturbances ; \" and then at last, on March 19th, the \nSabbath, the reconciliation was made complete by the \nclergymen of the two precincts exchanging pulpits, \nand preaching each to the other's congregation. \n\nThe pulpit of the First Precinct was then filled by \nMr. Fiske's successor, the Rev. Joseph Marsh. His \npastorate and that of the Rev. John Hancock covered, \nrespectively, sixteen and eighteen years, and the two \ncarried the history of the church into its second cen- \ntury. It was an uneventful time the world over, that \nof the first two Georges and Louis XV. The Massa- \nchusetts colony had now struggled through the more \ninteresting early period, and, slowly as vinconsciously, \nwas preparing itself for the career which a century \nlater was to open before it. Meanwhile the royal \ngovernors — Shute and Dummer, Burnet and Belcher \n— ruled a community numbering about a hundred \nthousand souls, and squabbled incessantly over petty \nquestions with intractable General Courts. Locally, \nit was the period in which Judge Edmund Quincy \n\n\n1709-26. JOSEPH MARSH. 617 \n\nand Colonel John Quincy flourished in Braintree, and \nlargely directed the course of the town's affairs ; while \nof men destined to a later prominence, John Adams \nand John Hancock were born, the former at the foot \nof Penn's Hill, October 19, 1735, and the latter the \n12th of January, 1737, in a house then standing on \nthe lot which, now the site of an academy, still bears \nthe Hancock name. \n\nThe Rev. Joseph Marsh himself was ordained as \npastor of the First Precinct on May 18, 1709. A \ngraduate of the college in the class of 1705, during \nthe winter of 1708-9 he was preaching, by request of \nthe General Court, at Tiverton, the inhabitants of \nwhich place had failed to \" comply with the law and \nprovide themselves with a minister.\" He first \"exer- \ncised \" in Braintree on Sunday, October 31, 1708, less \nthan three months after Mr. Fiske's death, and seems \nat once to have impressed himself on the people there \nas \" a person of singular accomplishments, both nat- \nural and acquired.\" Accordingly, in November they \ngave him a call, and on the 16th of December, after \nextensive preparations had been made properly to re- \nceive him at his predecessor's house, \" he came at night \nattended with the most of the inhabitants of this pre- \ncinct.\" His salary was fixed at seventy pounds a \nyear, and one hundred pounds additional was voted to \nhim on his settlement, \" and that to be paid for said \nsettlement.\" Then on the 4th of May a special fast \nwas kept \" in order to ordination,\" which took place \ntwo weeks later. On the 30th of the following June \nthe young pastor married the daughter of his prede- \ncessor, and in April, 1710, he bought the Fiske home- \nstead, where he lived until his death, in March, 1726. \nHe was then in his forty-first year. \n\n\n618 THE NORTH PRECINCT CHURCH. 172C. \n\nAgain the pulpit was but a short time vacant, for, \non June 29th, John Hancock, the son of a father of \nthe same name, was called to fill it. John Hancock, \nthe father, was minister at Lexington, and so high was \nhis professional standing and so great his influence \nthat he was commonly known as \" Bishop \" Hancock. \nThe son may have enjoyed a certain clerical prestige \nfrom the father's fame, for when called to Braintree \nin 1726 he was but twenty-four, though he had gradu- \nated in 1719. The salary voted to him (£110) was \nlarger than had been given to any of his predecessors, \nand he received a further sum of X200 upon his settle- \nment. But the vote giving these larger sums was \nexpressed in ominous words, for it ran that the obliga- \ntions were payable \" in good and lawful bills of public \ncredit on this Province.\" The colony was embarked \non that troubled sea of depreciated paper money which \nwas destined long to outlast the Hancock pastorate. \nIn Mr. Hancock's letter accepting the call there is, \nalso, one singular passage. The young candidate had \nexpressed in the usual language of the day his sense \nof the \" seriousness, solemnity and affection \" of the \noccasion, and his belief that \" Divine Providence calls \nand obliges me to an acceptance ; \" he then suddenly \nadds, immediately before closing his letter, \" I would \njust take leave to recommend to your consideration \nthe article of wood, which I understand is, or is likely \nto be pretty dear and scarce in this place.\" The re- \nsult showed that this innocent-looking proviso was not \ndevoid of either significance or worldly wisdom, for, \nsome six or seven years later, in March, 1733, the pre- \ncinct was called upon to vote that \" twenty Pounds be \nraised . . . and added yearly to the Rev\"^ John Han- \ncocks Sallery to supply him with fire-wood yearly Dur- \n\n\n1726-32. JOHN HANCOCK. 619 \n\ning his Ministre ; \" and \" against this vote Mr. Ben- \njamin Neal entered his dissent.\" \n\nThe ordination of Mr. Hancock on the 2d of No- \nvember, 1726, was a great occasion, for the pastors of \nseven sister churches took part in it, while the elder \nHancock preached the sermon. The ceremonies were \nheld in the old stone meeting-house of 1666. It must \neven then have been in poor repair, for during the \nwinter of 1730 \" cartloads of snow \" were blown into \nit, and had to be shovelled out. As usual, it was not \ndifficult to get the parish to vote the building of a new \nmeeting-house ; the trouble came in its location. Two \nmeetings barely sufficed for the discussion of the ques- \ntion. The site first proposed was \"at Col. Quincy's \ngate.\" ^ This was rejected. The site of the old stone \nchurch was next proposed, and rejected. Finally it \nwas decided by a majority vote that the new edifice \nshould be \"at the ten milestone, or near unto it ; \" \nand at the next meeting an exact site was fixed \" on \nthe training-field,\" a few hundred yards south of the \ntenth milestone from Boston. The new house, large \nand commodious for the time, was in point of fact a \nbald, oblong, wooden structure, of the kind common to \nall New England towns. It was entered by doors at \nthe two sides, and in front of it stood a tower, sur- \nmounted by an open cupola in which hung the bell, \nnow increased in weight to two hundred and ninety \npounds. \n\nThis edifice was dedicated on the 8th of October, \n1732, \" in peaceable times ; \" and it was voted \" that \nJonathan Webb keep the key of the old Meeting \n\n^ The point where the Old Colony railroad now passes under Adanas \nStreet, in Quincy. The present Bridge Street was the private avenue \nfrom the \"coast road\" {Infra, 672) to the old Quincy mansion. \n\n\n620 THE NORTH PRECINCT CHURCH. 1732-44. \n\nhouse have the Caire of said house take down the glass \nand led of the windows of said house for the service \nof the Precinct and Naile Bords up at the Windows.\" \nYet, though thus stripped and abandoned, the ancient \nedifice in which two generations of the inhabitants of \nBraintree had Sabbath by Sabbath assembled still \nhad its uses, for in it both town and precinct meetings \nwere held, summer and winter, for fourteen years to \ncome, and it was not until 1748 that the structure \nwas finally sold at auction and removed ; and that it \nshould have thus stood there, an unsightly ruin, serv- \ning, through sixteen years, almost no useful purpose, \nis significant of the slow growth and inanimate con- \ndition of the Massachusetts town during the first half \nof the seventeenth century. When sold at last, the \nmaterial of the building brought XlOO in currency of \nthe old tenor, or, on the basis of conversion fixed by \nlaw two years later, about $55 of modern money. \nNine years before, on September 16, 1739, '* being \nLord's day, the First Church of Braintree, both males \nand females, solemnly renewed the covenant of their \nfathers, immediately before the participation of the \nLord's supper.\" A century of church life was com- \nplete. \n\nOn this occasion, in his discourse which is still ex- \ntant, the pastor described himself as having been with \nhis people almost thirteen years \" in weakness, and in \nfear, and in much trembling.\" He continued with \nthem five years more. These were the years of \" the \ngreat awakening,\" during which Whitefield, Tennent \nand Davenport held forth continually to excited au- \ndiences, and New England was lashed into such a \nstate of religious frenzy as was never known on the \ncontinent before or since. It is scarcely probable \n\n\n1728. CHRIST CHURCH. 621 \n\nthat Braintree wholly escaped the contagion of the \ncraze ; but when, shortly after reason had resumed its \nsway, Hancock died, the brother clergyman who \npreached his funeral discourse spoke of him \" as a \nwise and skilful pilot,\" who had steered \" a right and \nsafe course in the late troubled sea of ecclesiastical \naffairs ; \" so that his people had \" escaped the errors \nand enthusiasm which some, and the infidelity and \nindifferency in matters of religion which others had \nfallen into.\" These words were in themselves no poor \ntribute to the preacher cut off \" in the midst of his \ndays and growing serviceableness.\" \n\nIt was in 1728, the third year of the Hancock pas- \ntorate, that the first Episcopal church edifice in Brain- \ntree was finished, and on Easter Monday of that year \nservices were performed in it. Dr. Ebenezer Miller, \na Harvard graduate of 1722, was its rector, and for a \ncentury and a half thereafter descendants of his name \ncontinued to live in the town. Thougk it had no \nchurch of its own until 1728, this society had long \nbeen forming, and, as the result of careful investiga- \ntion, one of its recent rectors has expressed a confident \nbelief that Christ Church in Quincy, now that King's \nChapel has changed hands, is, with the \" exception, \npossibly, of Trinity Church, Newport, the oldest Epis- \ncopal parish in New England.\" ^ There is, indeed, \nevidence that, as early even as 1689, there was in \nBraintree a little body of Church of England commu- \nnicants, and that, in one house at least, prayers from \nthe liturgy were daily read. It was the head of this \nhouse, probably, who, as \" L*. Yeazey,\" stands re- \ncorded in the 1689 list of those \" sure, honest and \nwell-disposed persons that Contributed their assistance \n\n1 Pattee, Old Braintree and Quincy, 245-8. \n\n\n622 THE NORTH PRECINCT CHURCH. 1701^. \n\nfor and towards erecting a Church for God's worship \nin Boston, according to the Constitution of the Church \nof England as by law Established.\" ^ \" L*^. Veazey \" \nput his name down for one pound. In 1701 the So- \nciety for the Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign \nParts was formed in London, and, for some reason \nnow unknown, Braintree was early selected by it as \na promising field in which to labor. In 1702 one \nzealous in the cause wrote to a leading church dig- \nnitary : — \" Braintrey should be included ; it is in the \nheart of New England, and a learned and sober man \nwould do great good and encourage the other towns to \ndesire the like. If the church can be settled in New \nEngland, it pulls up schisms in America by the roots \nthat being the fountain that supplies with infectious \nstreams the rest of America.\" Accordingly, \" an an- \nnual encouragement of fifty pounds and a gratuity of \ntwenty-five pounds for present occasions \" was granted \nby the society to Mr. William Barclay, \" the minister \nof the Church of England at Braintree in New Eng- \nland.\" At the same time a collection of books to \nform the basis of a church library was sent out, the \ntwenty volumes or so of w^hich, bearing the quaint \nseal of 2 the mother society, — massive seventeenth \ncentury accumulations of forgotten theological lore, — \nare still on the shelves of the Quincy rectory. Thus, \nin 1704, Christ Church in Braintree was fuUy organ- \nized, several of the names found earliest in the town \nrecords, such as Veazie, Saunders and Bass, being \nthose of its wardens and vestrymen. \n\nThe movement did not pass unnoticed. The time \nwas gone by when it could be suppressed with a high \nhand, for not only had the rigor of the primitive \n\n1 Foote, Annals of King's Chapel, 80. 2 i^. 147. \n\n\n1704-13. REV. THOMAS EAGER. 623 \n\nchurch discipline relaxed, but under the royal gov- \nernors the Episcopalian ritual had for years been \nfamiliar in Boston ; though still on the 25th of De- \ncember those of the antique faith took occasion to \n\" dehort their families from Christmas keeping and \ncharge them to forbear.\" Accordingly when in Au- \ngust, 1704, the increase of the Rev. Mr. Fiske's salary \nfrom £80 to <£90 was the burning question in Brain- \ntree, Judge Edmund Quincy urged as an argument \nin favor of the increase that the Church of England \npeople would have to pay their proportion, calling \nSamuel French out of Captain John Mill's house, and \nsaying to him, — \" You know what has fell out in the \ntown, the churchmen are now scheming to get a foot \nin the town ; if you will join with us in a vote, we '11 \nsuppress the churchmen ; I have got sixteen already.\" \nBy 1704 Mr. Barclay had returned to England, \nand for several years thereafter only a skeleton or- \nganization of the church was maintained. In 1713 the \ncase was pronounced desperate by the Rev. Thomas \nEager, who had apparently been sent out to look the \nfield over, and who mentioned, as obstacles in the way \nof any growth of the church, that its members were \ntaxed for the support of the regular precinct minister, \nand that they had no place of worship of their own. \nThey feared censure as conventiclers if they assem- \nbled for worship in a private house. Yet he claimed \nto have at times as many as thirty attendants at ser- \nvice, with twelve regular communicants. Mr. Eager \nseems to have remained in Braintree nearly two years, \nand the account he gave of the dwellers there was not \na flattering one. \n\n\" I have had a very hard way of living since my abode \nin this place, provisions being very scarce, and people gen- \n\n\n624 THE NORTH PRECINCT CHURCH. 1714. \n\nerally very poor. The wliole province has been very much \ndisturbed on the account of my coming to this i)lace, \nand accordingly have not failed to affront and abuse me \nwherever they meet me, — ' atheist and papist,' the best \nlanguage I can get from them. The people are Indepen- \ndents, and have a perfect odiunj to those of our Communion. \nThese few whi(!h adhere to our church are taxed and rated \nmost extravagantly to sujiport the dissenting clergy. Had \nthis province been called New Greet instead of New Eng- \nland it had better suited, for the people are very great \nstrangers to truth, and I do really believe that I have not \npassed one day since my arrival without one false report or \nother raised upon me. Thus you see my case is very piti- \nful ; yet by the assistance of God's grace I shall have con- \nstancy and resolution enough to put forward the good work \nthat I was sent about.\" ^ \n\nOn the other hand, judging by the statements con- \ntained in the following passage of a letter of Governor \nDudley to the secretary of the Society for Propaga- \nting the Gospel, the Kev. Thomas Eager was by no \nmeans one of those \" able and sober ministers \" and \n\" discreet \" gentlemen, such as Edward Randolph had \nin 1682 entreated the Bishop of London to appoint \n\" to performe the officies of the church with us.\" Far \notherwise, he would seem to have been a parson of \na type not unfamiliar to the readers of Fielding and \nSmollett, — a man carnally inclined, and of a temper \nthe reverse of meek. The letter of Governor Dudley \nwas dated May 1, 1714, and in it he wrote : — \n\n\" There has been some trouble at Braintree about the \narrear, which I hope is over also ; but I have heard a sor- \nrowful account from everybody referring to Mr Eager. I \nhad heard of his rude life in his passage hither, being fre- \nquently disguised in drink and fighting with the saylors, \n^ Foote, Annals of King'' s Chapel, 257-8. \n\n\n1696. A FIGHTING PARSON. 625 \n\neven to wounds and taring his cloaths ; and during the few \nmonths of his stay here he was frequently in quarrels and \nfighting, and sending challenges for duells, that at length \nthe auditory at Brantry were quite ashamed and discour- \naged ; and he is gone to Barbadoes without any direction \nor order, and the Congregation without any Minister.\" \n\nBut there was ground for the complaint of Mr. \nEager as to the taxing of his people for the support \nof the precinct ministers. The matter had already \nbeen before the Governor and Council on the com- \nplaint of William Yeazie, the churchwarden, who, in \n1696, had been fined \" for ploughing on the day of \nThanksgiving ; \" and this Veazie incident of 1696 is \nnot without its significance, as throwing a curious \ngleam of light on the extreme Jacobite tendencies of \na portion, at least, of the adherents of the Church \nof England who had in some way drifted to Mas- \nsachusetts. In early June, news of the Barclay and \nCharnock plot to assassinate King William, the de- \ntails and consequences of which Macaulay has de- \nscribed,^ reached Boston, and the 18th of the month \nwas fixed as a day of public thanksgiving over the \nfailure of the popish plot and the preservation of the \nprotestant monarch. When the da}^ came William \nVeazie, instead of observing it like his fellow-towns- \nmen, was, about eleven o'clock in the forenoon, seen to \nbe ploughing the corn on his farm at Hough's Neck^ \n\n1 History of England, chap. xxi. \n\n^ A portion of the grant to Atherton Hough, or Howgh (Boston \nTown Records [54], 1641) of 1634, and still known as Hough's (pro- \nnounced How's, corrupted to Hoar's) Neck. A somewhat singular \ninstance of the permanence of local traditional nomenclature, as the \ngrant was made over two centuries and a half ago ; no one of the \nname of Hough, or How, or Hoar, so far as is known, ever lived on \nit ; and the popular idea is, that the name is derived from some sup- \nposed resemblance of the locality to a horse's neck. ^ \n\n\n62G THE NORTH PRECINCT CHURCH. 1713. \n\n\" with an Indian Boy and Two Horses.\" When re- \nmonstrated with for such conduct by certain of his \nscandalized neighbors, Veazie replied \" that he did not \nknow but that there was a great deal of Sin committed \nin setting apart dayes of Thanksgiving and Humilia- \ntion ; \" and further that \" the King had granted Lib- \nerty of Conscience ; and that King James was his \nRoyal Prince ; and that he did not know how this \nKing came to the Crowne ; and that the Crowne be- \nlonged to heires by Succession.\" To all of which ut- \nterances William Veazie, when subsequently arraigned, \npleaded guilty : and thereupon he was promptly fined \nten pounds and ordered \" to be set in the pillory in the \nmarket place in Boston to morrow about noon, there \nto stand by the Space of An Hour.\" ^ \n\nThis was in 1696 ; and in 1713, seventeen years \nlater, the obdurate Veazie was again in trouble, the \ntown constable having seized and sold a cow of his \nbecause her owner refused to pay his portion of the \ntax levied on account of the Rev. Mr. Marsh's salary. \nJoseph Dudle}^, it has been seen, was then governor \nof the province, and it appeared that an order of the \ngovernor and council had been made directing the \ntown officials to forbear the levying of the tax until \nafter the next General Court. This order had been \nsent to Veazie, who not only refused to allow the con- \nstable to take a copy of it, but otherwise \" provoked \nhim.\" So the constable, one Owens by name, seized \nand sold the cow in contempt of the order. For this \nreason, when in due course the matter came before \nthe Council, Governor Dudley evinced a decided bias \nin favor of Veazie, much to the displeasure of Judge \nSewall, a member of Council, to whom anything which \n\n1 Becardi^f Supreme Court of Judicature, v. 1686-1700, p. 117. \n\n\n1713-26. DR. EBENEZER MILLER. 627 \n\nsavored of the liturgy was a thing abhorred, — the \nCommon-Prayer was an \" invention of man,\" the use \nof which in his presence he reckoned \" an Indignity \nand affront,\" while the \" Office for burial [was] a Ly- \ning, very bad office ; [making] no difference between \nthe precious and the vile.\" So in his journal for June \n2, 1713, Sewall gave a characteristic account of what \ntook place in the Council Chamber on the complaint \nof the Braintree church - warden, in the course of \nwhich, the governor having put the question whether \nthe cow should be returned to her owner, the judge \nbluntly expressed his opinion that \" the Governor \nand Council had not Authority to rescind the Laws \nby nulling an execution.\" But on this occasion \n\" Constable Owen \" escaped on easier terms than \nVeazie seventeen years before, for, after being bound \nover to the next sessions of the court, it was subse- \nquently thought advisable to \" Chide him, and let \nhim go.\" \n\nReturning to the record of the Braintree church, \nthe drinking and fighting parson Eager was succeeded \nby the Rev. Henry Lucas, who, after a short rector- \nship, removed to Newbury, and for several years there- \nafter the Braintree organization lay dormant ; nor, \nindeed, was it until 1726 that any steps were taken \ntoward building a church edifice. Ebenezer Miller, \nson of Samuel Miller, of Milton, was then a recent \ngraduate of the college, and student of divinity. As \nsuch he early manifested a strong leaning towards \nEpiscopacy, being, it has been said, the first native \ndescendant of the colony ordained to the ministry of \nthat church.^ To him the members of the Braintree \nsociety went, and two agreements were entered into, \n\n^ History of Milton, Mass., 130. \n\n\n628 THE NORTH PRECINCT CHURCH. 1727. \n\n— one for the building a church edifice, the other for \nsending young Miller to England, there to receive or- \nders. Both agreements were carried out. A site for \nthe proposed edifice was conveyed by deed, bearing \ndate of August 25, 1727, as the free gift to the \nsociety, of William and Benjamin Veazey, \"for the \nbuilding of a Church of England on, and no other \npur^DOse ; \" and, two years later, in the autumn of \n1727, an unpretentious wooden structure had been \nerected, and was ready for occupancy. It stood near \nthe main street of the town, and parallel with it, \nonly a few hundred yards south of that crossing of \nthe town river near which was the old stone meeting- \nhouse. For over a century, this building, from time \nto time enlarged, sufficed for the religious needs and \nshared in the fluctuating fortunes of those in Brain- \ntree and its vicinity who adhered to the Church of \nEngland faith and forms ; and, in course of years, the \nground about it grew thick with stones marking the \nlast resting places of some who had worshipped within \nthose walls. These stones still remain the sole me- \nmorial of a site upon which for over a hundred years \nstood one of the earliest offshoots in Puritan Mas- \nsachusetts of that Established Church which John \nWinthrop, when turning his back forever on his na- \ntive land, referred to as \" our dear mother, ... ac- \nknowledging that such hope and part as w^e have \nobtained in the common salvation we have received in \nher bosom, and sucked it from her breasts.\" \n\nReceiving his degree of Master of Arts at Oxford \nin July, 1727, Mr. Miller was at the same time li- \ncensed to preach the gospel. The next month he \nwas appointed to the living at Braintree, in New Eng- \nland, and, in September following, chaplain to the \n\n\n1727. FRIENDLY SOCIETIES. 629 \n\nDuke of Bolton. He came home to his own people \nin the autumn of 1727, arriving in season to begin \nhis pastorate on Christmas-day. Accordingly, Judge \nSewall, in Boston, made the following entry in his \njournal : — \" Monday, Dec. 25, 1727. Shops open, \nand people come to Town with Hoop-poles, Hay, \nWood, &c. Mr. Miller keeps the day in his New \nchurch at Braintey : people flock thither.\" \n\nThrough the active intervention of Lieutenant- \nGovernor Dummer the vexed question of taxation \nwas now at last settled, and at a meeting of the North \nPrecinct held on the 29th of the next month (May, \n1727), the Episcopalians appeared and presented their \ncase. There is no record of what was said in debate, \nbut the meeting finally voted to remit future taxes, \nand also \" to reimburse the petitioners whatever sums \nthey might have been assessed for Mr. Hancock's \nordination charge and settlement.\" This was also \ndone, as Mr. Hancock did not fail to record with \npride, \" before ever any act of this nature passed in \nthe government.\" That it was settled in a way so \ncreditable seems to have been largely due to Mr. Han- \ncock's influence, who then gave evidence that he was \npossessor not only of some Christian sj^irit, but of \nmuch good judgment. He always cultivated friendly \nrelations between the two societies, as well as person- \nally between himself and Mr. Miller ; and, before Mr. \nMiller came, the precinct church \" admitted to their \ncommunion all such members of the Church of Eng- \nland as desired to have occasional communion with \nthem, and allowed them what posture of devotion they \njDleased ; and they received the sacrament standing.\" ^ \n\n^ That this liherality in reg-ard to partaking- of the communion was \nnot confined to Mr. Hancock and the Braiutree church, among New \n\n\nG30 THE NORTH PRECINCT CHURCH. 1747. \n\nBut, though what had been a burning question \nthrough twenty-five years was thus properly disposed \nof, the disposition did not prove altogether final ; for \nnearly twenty years later the old question presented \nitself in a new form, the almost necessary outcome of \nthe law of compulsory contribution to religious wor- \nship as it then stood. The issue was now formally \ntried in court, and the precinct church not only won \nits case, but the result showed that litigation was far \nless costly in 1750 than it has subsequently become, \ninasmuch as the expense the committee appointed to \ntake charge of the matter was at in \" Attendance and \nLawyers Fees \" amounted \" in the whole to the sum \nof X5/16.\" \n\nThrough thirty-six years Dr. Miller remained the \nrector of Christ Church, devoted to his parish, and \naccounted one of the ablest defenders of Episcopacy \nin New England ; and as such he received the highest \nrecognition then possible, for when, in 1747 he again \nvisited England, the university of Oxford conferred \non him the degree of Doctor of Divinity. At that \ntime such degrees were not conferred by any institu- \ntion in America; and some thirty-seven years before \nthe university of Glasgow had to his intense gratifica- \ntion honored Cotton Mather ^ in the way in which the \nfar greater Oxford now honored the incumbent of \n\nEngland congregations, is proved by the following from one of Cotton \nMather's publications. In his Manuductio ad Ministeriun ; or, Angels \npreparing to Sound the Trumpets, published in 1727, he said (p. 127), — \n\"And let the Table of the Lord have no Rails about it, that shall hin- \nder a Godly Independent, and Presbyterian, and Episcopalian, and An- \ntipedobaptist, and Lutheran, from sitting down together there. Cor- \ninthian Brass would not be so bright a Composition, as the people of \nGod in such a Coalition, feasting together on His Holy Mountain. . . . \nTho' in the church that I serve, I have seen the grateful Spectacle ! \" \n1 Wendell, Cotton Mather, 231. \n\n\n1763-77. AN EXOTIC. 631 \n\nChrist Church. At the close of Dr. Miller's ministry \nhis society numbered fifty families and as many com- \nmunicants. Indeed, he and his immediate successor \nso raised the Braintree church that for a time it seems \n\" to have exercised a maternal care over those of the \nsame communion in this vicinity ; \" ^ and not impos- \nsibly the pre-revolutionary rectors of Christ Church \nin Braintree might have been ordained as Bishops, \nhad a diocese of Massachusetts, or even of New Eng- \nland then existed ; but not until 1784 was such a \ndiocese formed, and on the 11th of February, 1763, \n\" to the very great loss of this church, his family and \nfriends, [Dr. Miller] departed this life.\" \n\nNot much more remains to be said of Christ Church \nprior to 1830, the period now undel* consideration. \nIt had already seen its best days, for the Revolutionary \ntroubles were at the time of its first rector's death \nalready impending. Indeed, a posthumous attack \nmade on him just after his death, because of his con- \nnection with a project for establishing an American \nbishopric, led to one of the angry paper controversies \nwhich paved the way to war.^ The Rev. Edward \nWinslow, a Bostonian by birth and a graduate of \nHarvard college in the class of 1741, succeeded Dr. \nMiller. He was inducted into the living in July, 1764, \nand his connection with the society lasted through \nthirteen troubled years, until 1777. \n\nUntil after the middle of the nineteenth century, \nEpiscopacy was an exotic in Massachusetts ; and the \ncultivation of exotics is always expensive. The \nmother English society was most liberal in dealing \nwith its sickly Braintree offshoot, and, until the Revo- \n\n1 Cutler, Century Sermon (1827), 7. \n\n2 John Adams, Works, x. 187. \n\n\n632 THE NORTH PRECINCT CHURCH. 17G3-77. \n\nlutionary troubles took the shape of actual war, it an- \nnually sent over sixty pounds sterling for the support \nof the minister. Naturally the society was inclined to \na friendly feeling toward the hand which fed it. To \nit the Apthorps, the Vassalls, the Borlands, the Clev- \nerlys and the Millers — indeed, all the gentry of the \nneighborhood, with the exception of the Quincys — \nbelonged. The gentry were apt to be Tories ; and, \nas early as 1765, John Adams noted in his diary that \nmost of the churchmen in Braintree were favorers of \nthe Stamp Act. Ten years later they had not changed \ntheir views, and when the news arrived of the passage \nof the Quebec Bill by Parliament in April, 1774, \nMrs. Adams wrote, \" all the Church people here have \nhung their heads,\" and, \" no matter how much pro- \nvoked by those of the other side, they would not dis- \ncuss politics.\" Before that, '\" parties ran very high, \nand very hard words and threats of blows upon both \nsides were given out.\" A few months later there was \nsomething closely resembling an actual outbreak in \nthe town, the North Precinct of which had the repu- \ntation of being a nest of Tories. The stock of public \npowder was removed from it by an organized mob, \nand Mrs. Adams again wrote, — \" The church parson \nthought they were coming after him, and ran up gar- \nret \" ; and the story was that another member of the \nchurch \" jumped out of his window and hid among the \ncorn, whilst a third crept under a board fence and \ntold his beads.\" As it was in Braintree, so was it \nelsewhere ; for this was the time when, throughout \nthe colonies, the ministers of the Established Church \nof England stood condemned in the eyes of all pa- \ntriots, — the time when a Pennsylvania rector wrote \nto England that a militia captain \" had lugged his \n\n\n1774r^O. REV. EDWARD WINSLOW. 633 \n\ncompany to church on a fast day, to hear that old \nwretch (^meaning me /) preach,\" — the time when \n\" neither sechision, insignificance, nor high character \nwas able to save the clergy from the fury of the popu- \nlace.\" ^ Braintree did but share in the common feel- \ning, and though, as will presently be seen, no record \nexists of any act of overt violence committed, there \ncan be no doubt Mr. Winslow found his situation un- \ncomfortable in the extreme, nor was it any longer safe \nfor him to read the prayer for the King. Yet he \nseems to have struggled on, vainly hoping for better \ndays, until his salary was stopped and many of his \npeople had moved away. Then, in 1777, taking very \nproperly the ground that his ordination oath com- \npelled him to conform literally to the Prayer-Book, he, \n\" with sad and silent musings,\" resigned his charge ; \nwhile Mrs. Adams, actuated by the patriotic fervor of \nthe day, wrote of him in a spirit marked with no ex- \ncess of charity, — '' The conscientious parson had \ntaken an oath upon the Holy Evangelists to pray for \nhis most gracious Majesty as his sovereign lord, and \nhaving no father confessor to absolve him, he could \nnot omit it without breaking his oath.\" Going to \nNew York, which was in British occupation, Mr. \nWinslow died there in 1780, before the close of the \nwar. He lies buried under the altar of St. George's \nChurch, in that city. \n\nThe English society had spent, it is said, over thir- \nteen thousand dollars in the attempt to build up the \nBraintree church, and it was now less than ever able to \nstand alone. Though the ritual was again in as great \npublic odium as it had been a whole century before, \nand the mutilated pages of the great book of services \n1 McConuell, American Episcopal Churchy 208-10. \n\n\n634 THE NORTH PRECINCT CHURCH. 1777-1827. \n\nstill ill the possession of Christ Church bears curious \nevidence to the fact that the prayers for the King were \nno longer read in Braintree, Mr. Joseph Cleverly to a \ncertain extent faced the storm, and filled, as best he \ncould, the place Mr. Winslow had left vacant. A \nnative of the town, and coming of a family long resi- \ndent there, he was graduated at Harvard College in \n1733, and, though never in orders, an earnest Episco- \npalian, he now for several years read prayers and ser- \nvices, and is referred to in the church's records as its \nteacher. He lived to extreme old age, dying in 1802. \nAfter Mr. Cleverly's death the society for many \nyears continued in what might fairly be called a state \nof suspended animation. It did not wholly die, for \nthe church edifice was there, and the society owned \nalso a piece of land on which stood a rectory, the \nwhole having cost it <£300 in 1765 ; and now the rent \ncollected from the rectory sufficed to keep the church \nfrom tumbling down. The parish committee secured \nthe assistance of clergymen and readers, so that from \ntiijie to time church services were performed; but, \nas a religious force affecting town life, Christ Church \nhardly made itself felt between the close of the Rev- \nolution and the year 1825 : and, indeed, with one \nperiod of faint revival, it continued to languish until \nlong after 1830 ; when at last the increase of wealth \nand the change in modes of life of the whole outside \ncommunity brought in new and influential families, \nlargely summer residents, introducing elements in \nwhich the Episcopal form of worship found natural \nsupport. But the town had then lost its individuality. \nDuring the first hundred years of its existence the \nhistory of Christ Church in Braintree and Quincy is \nmost interesting as showing how foreign Episcopacy \n\n\n1745. LEMUEL BRIANT. 635 \n\nwas to the original Massachusetts civilization ; how \npractically impossible it was for it there to take root \nand to flourish ; and how, supported for a time at \ngreat effort and cost from without, when that support \nwas withdrawn it languished and died away, having, \nso far as could be seen, in no way influenced the \ngrowth of the native community. The Established \nChurch of England, like that of Rome, was a wholly \nalien institution ; and Episcopacy, like Roman Cath- \nolicism, secured a firm hold on the soil only when a \nnew and an alien element was infused into the pop- \nulation of the Massachusetts town. \n\nReturning to the history of the original precinct \nchurch, about which the whole religious life and men- \ntal activity of Braintree still centred, the Hancock \npastorate, ending in May, 1744, was followed by an \ninterim of a year and a half ; and this notwithstanding \nthe fact that, only two months after its pastor's prema- \nture death, the bereaved church had solemnly voted \nthat \" the Fifteenth day of August next be a day set \napart for solemn fasting and prayer to God for his \nDirection in order to the settling a Minister among \nus.\" At last, on the 16th of September, 1745, the \nRev. Lemuel Briant, of Scituate, was unanimously \nchosen pastor, and on the 11th of the following De- \ncember formally ordained. The salary of the new \nminister was fixed at \" fifty pounds per year in bills \nof credit on this province of the last emission \" dur- \ning the first two years of his settlement, to be there- \nafter increased by a further annual sum of \" twelve \npounds and ten shillings in bills of the like emission.\" \nThis salary was nominally much smaller than had \nbeen paid either to Mr. Hancock or to Mr. Fiske, \nbut it was payable in bills of credit of the last \n\n\n030 THE NORTH PRECINCT CHURCH. 1745. \n\nemissi(.n. How clergymen and the few others who, in \nMiissachusetts, were dependent on fixed incomes con- \ntrived to live in those days must always remain a mys- \ntery. At the time of Mr. Hancock's death, bills of the \ntenor in use when he was settled passed in circulation \nfor about sixteen per cent, of their nominal value ; in \nother words, silver was worth nearly forty shiDings \n*' old tenor \" per ounce, instead of six shillings seven \npence, as it should have been. In 1745 there were in \ncirculation bills of the \" new tenor,\" of the \" middle \ntenor,\" and of the \"old tenor; \" and those of the two \nformer emissions, being of greater value than those of \nthe latter, were hoarded. Apparently, in 1740, Mr. \nBriant's salary of sixty pounds \"new tenor \" was \nequivalent to about fifty-four pounds in silver, or to \nsix hundred pounds in \" old tenor,\" and in purchasing \npower was not less than what had been paid to his \npredecessor. Nevertheless, owing to what the young \npastor in his letter of acceptance not unhappily de- \nscribed as \" the Fluctuating State of our Medium,\" it \nwas in subsequent years found necessary to make fre- \nquent additions to his stated salary ; though it may \nwell be doubted whether even these additions, parsi- \nmoniously doled out after the custom of the period, \nplaced Mr. Briant, as he had in the same letter ex- \npressed his confidence would be the case, \" above the \nfear of wanting any good thing among you, however \ninsufficient to answer all the Purposes of Life what \nyou have already Voted may be judged by those who \nare best Acquainted with Living in the World.\" \n\nA graduate of Harvard College in the class of 1739, \nMr. Briant, when he came to Braintree, was in his \ntwenty-fourth year. His pastorate was brief, for he \ndied before he was thirty-three ; but it was as troubled \n\n\n1745-53. AN ADVANCED THINKER. 637 \n\nas it was short. Intellectually, a noticeable man, he \nwas an advanced religious thinker and born contro- \nversialist, and as such seems to have paid small regard \nto conventionalities. Had he lived he might have held \nhis ground, and succeeded in advancing by one long \nstride the tardy progress of liberal Christianity in \nMassachusetts ; on the other hand, not improbably he \nwas too far in advance of his day, and a premature \nphysical decline alone saved him from the loss of his \npulpit and theological ostracism. Yet the story of his \nbrief career is even now indisputably interesting. \n\nIn the year 1749, Mr. Briant published^ a sermon \non moral virtue. Before its publication he seems to \nhave preached it several times in different pulpits, \nand it had excited a good deal of remark. In his \nnative town of Scituate, especially, it produced so \ngreat an impression that the minister of that place \nfelt moved to controvert its teachings. This he es- \nsayed to do by means of a series of discourses, in re- \ngard to which it was at the time observed the main \ndifficulty was to discern the \" difference between his \ndoctrine and that of Mr. Briant.\" The progress of \nreligious thought has since been so great, that it is not \neasy now to see in the Briant sermon anything to \nexcite criticism. In it moral and religious truisms \nseem to be set forth in plain, strong English, which \nat times rises into eloquence ; while, throughout, it is \nmarked by the better quality of plain speaking. The \nwriter said what he meant ; and he said it in a way \nnot to be misunderstood. He drew his text from \nIsaiah Ixiv. 6, — \" All our righteousnesses are as filthy \nrags,\" — and he vigorously denounced the absurdities \nto which a lifeless, conventional religion had led. The \ndistinctness with which he gave utterance to the truth \n\n\n638 THE NORTH PRECINCT CHURCH. 1749-50. \n\nthat was in him startled those who had comfortably \nsettled down in the uncomforting faith that Calvinism \nAvas not only the foundation of all things, but that \nit was a good foundation. Once more accepted for- \nmulas had been challenged, and declared to be j^er- \nnicious cant. \n\nFormulas rarely lack defenders. Several of his \nbrethren at once entered the lists against Mr. Briant, \nand the theological rancor with which they did it was \nexpressed even on the title-pages of the sermons in \nwhich they thought to confute him. The Rev. Mr. \nNiles, of 'the Middle Braintree Precinct, for instance, \ncalled his discourse a vindication of certain gospel \ndoctrines and teachers \" against the injurious reflec- \ntions and misrepresentations \" of the \" Rev. Mr. \nLemuel Briant ; \" and the Rev. John Porter, of \nBridge water, improved on this by entitling a sermon, \n— \" The absurdity and blasphemy of substituting the \npersonal righteousness of men in the room of the \nsurety righteousness of Christ, in the important article \nof justification before God.\" Mr. Briant was not a \nman to be summarily suppressed. He was young, it \nwas true, but so far his church was with him, and he \nhad a vigorous pen. Accordingly, in 1750, he pub- \nlished, in the form of a letter, some \" friendly re- \nmarks \" on the Rev. Mr. Porter's effort, to which, in \nits printed form, had been appended an '' attestation,\" \nas it was called, signed by five other clergymen, in \nwhich they expressed their hearty concurrence with \ntheir brother Porter, and dolefully lamented the \n\" dreadful increase of Arminianism and other errors \nin the land.\" \n\nThis reply of Mr. Briant's must have been very \nirritating to his opponents, for he met them in a way \n\n\n1750. THEOLOGICAL AMENITIES. 639 \n\nthey could not understand. They were narrow- \nminded men of no great intellectual strength, and, \nafter the manner of such, they could not grasp a new \nidea even when it was plainly set before them. Be- \ncause it was new, was with them sufficient proof that \nit must be unimportant or erroneous. Nevertheless, \nthey were men thoroughly in earnest and of implicit \nbelief. Briant in his reply trifled with them. Hardly \ntroubling himself to conceal his contempt, he per- \nmitted a vein of irony to run through his answer, \nwhich, while it must have bewildered as well as ex- \nasperated his opponents, was out of place. \n\nNaturally they were not slow to respond, and, as is \nthe custom of men of their calibre, they forthwith \nproceeded to identify themselves with the sacred cause \nof which they were the self-appointed and incompetent \nadvocates. They accused Mr. Briant of levity in the \ntreatment of religious truths, and of prevarication ; \nand they proceeded in their labored way to show that \nhe was an Arminian and unsound. Mr. Briant had \nin his letter referred to the Rev. Mr. Foxcroft, the \ncolleague of Dr. Chauncey in the First Church of \nBoston, as \" a verbose, dark, Jesuitical writer,\" and, \naccordingly, Mr. Foxcroft now returned the compli- \nment by accusing Mr. Briant of being not Arminian \nmerely, but even Socinian. To this contribution to \neighteenth century theological debate Mr. Briant re- \nplied in a way which demonstrated that in pointed \ncontroversy his opponents were no match for him, and \nhe now fairly convicted them of having brought \nserious charo;es ae^ainst him on the strens^th of con- \njecture and suspicion only ; but the discussion had \ndrifted away from great doctrinal issues to mere per- \nsonalities, and it ceased to be of importance. \n\n\n640 THE NORTH PRECINCT CHURCH. 1752-3. \n\nYet it did not stop then. Mr. Briant had stirred \nthe waters of local theology to their depth, nor did \ntlie agitation subside during the remainder of his life. \nAt the time of his second letter he was not yet thirty ; \nbut he was already drawing to his end, and the closing \nmonths of that short and stormy pastorate must have \nbeen most trying ; for, though not without warm sym- \npathizers among the more liberal of his brethren, Mr. \nBriant's own people were no longer undivided. This \nstate of affairs resulted in the intervention of one of \nthose Ecclesiastical Councils which, in the language \nof Mr. Briant's most eminent successor in the pulpit \nof the North Precinct church, effected \" as much as \nCouncils ever effect, — that is nothing at all, except, \nit may be, to increase the difficulty in which they in- \ntermeddled.\" ^ Nevertheless such was the bitterness \nand harsh language engendered by this controversy, \ngoing even to the length of groundless charges against \nthe pastor of \" scandalous immoralities,\" that, on the \n2 2d of August following the sessions of the Council, \n\" Ebenezer Adams was Suspended from the Commu- \nnion of the Church for the false, abusive and scanda- \nlous stories that his unbridled Tongue had spread \nagainst the Pastor, and refusing to make a proper \nConfession of his manifest Wickedness ; \" but that \nEbenezer Adams pursued the course he did from con- \nviction rather than malevolence may be inferred from \nthe fact that, twenty years later, in 1773, the church, \nin the days of Mr. Briant's successor, made choice \nof him for deacon, in the place of Deacon, and Briga- \ndier-General, Palmer. The probabilities are that Dea- \ncon Ebenezer Adams was merely a rigid, old-school \nOrthodox, whose theology, of no unusual kind, was \nnot above seeking the aid of calumny. \n\n^ Lunt, Two Discourses, 141. \n\n\n1754. ANTHONY WIBIRD. 641 \n\nOd the 22(1 of the ensuing October a precinct meet- \ning was held to take action on the pastor's request for \ndismission. His health was failing. Mr. Briant did \nnot survive his dismissal quite one year, dying at Hing- \nham in the early autumn of 1754. At the time of \nhis death he was but thirty-two, and, of all those who \nhave served as pastors of his church, his remains and \nthose of his eloquent successor a century later, William \nParsons Lunt, alone do not moulder in the old North \nPrecinct graveyard. Briant was buried in the neigh- \nboring town of Hingham in September, 1754, while, \nover a century later, Mr. Lunt, a tired wayfarer, died \nas he journeyed towards the Holy Land. Falling ill at \nEzion-Geber at the northern extremity of the Red Sea, \nhe sank away after two nights of fever. \" Decently \nand reverently, on the morning of the 21st of March, \n1857, his mortal remains were laid in the sands. A \nrude heap of stones marks the spot.\" \n\nThe last French war, that which resulted in the \nEnglish conquest of Canada, had then already begun \nbefore Mr. Briant died, and while Washington was \nthen reconnoitring on the Ohio, Lord Monckton was \npreparing for the removal of the Acadians; Brad- \ndock's defeat took place the following July. The \nRevolutionary struggle followed close on the French \nW^ar. This rapid sequence of great events outside \nmaterially affected even the North Precinct church of \nBraintree, and a long period of doctrinal quiescence \nensued, which amounted at last almost to torpidity. \nIt was on the 22d of October, 1753, that Mr. Briant \nwas dismissed, and just one year later, on the 8th of \nOctober, 1754, the parish extended a call to the Rev. \nAnthony W^ibird. \n\nMr. Wibird, a graduate of Harvard in the class of \n\n\n642 THE NORTH PRECINCT CHURCH. 1754-1800. \n\n1747, was at the time of this call in his twentj^-eighth \nyear. He at first declined, apparently on the ground \nthat the salary voted would not suffice for his support. \nIt was small, being but eighty pounds a year, with a \nfurther sum of one hundred and thirty-three pounds, \nsix shillings, and eightpence, \" lawful money,\" for \" a \nsettlement.\" This it will be noticed was not so much \nas Mr. Fiske had receiv^ed nearly a century before. \nSubsequently the parish modified its terms, offering a \nsalary of one hundred pounds a year, with no sum at \nsettlement, and this proposition Mr. Wibird accepted. \nHe was ordained on the 5th of February, 1755. The \n\"Wibird pastorate, the longest in the annals of the \nparish, covered forty-five years, outlasting the century, \nand during it the colonies separated from the mother- \ncountry, and the North Precinct of Braintree became \nthe town of Quincy. What with French and Revolu- \ntionary wars and reigns of terror, the downfall of the \nold and the upbuilding of the new, the world in those \ndays moved rapidly ; but amid all the turmoil with- \nout, — stamp-acts, tea-riots. Bunker Hill fights, Dec- \nlarations of Independence, and elections of Presidents, \n— the Rev. Mr. Wibird seems to have pursued the \neven tenor of his way. He was about seven years \nolder than John Adams, who saw much of him during \nthe years the former was picking up a practice at \nBraintree, and in 1759 the active-minded young lawyer \nwrote of the divine that his soul was lost in \" dronish \neffeminacy,\" though he had \"his mind stuffed with \nremarks and stories of human virtues and vices, wis- \ndom and folly, etc.\" On yet another occasion he \nobserved upon Parson Wibird's popularity, — \"He \nplays with babies and young children that begin to \nprattle, and talks with their mothers, asks them family \n\n\n1800-43. PETER WHITNEY. 643 \n\niar, pleasant questions about their affection to their \nchildren ; he has a familiar, careless way of convers- \ning with people, men and women ; he has wit and \nhumor.\" \n\nBefore Mr. Wibird's pastorate closed he was, through \nbodily infirmity, disabled from preaching, so that on \nFebruary 5, 1800, exactly four months before the \npastor's death, the Rev. Peter Whitney was ordained \nas his colleague. Like all his predecessors in that \npulpit, except Tompson and Flynt, Mr. Whitney was \na Harvard graduate, belonging to the class of 1791, \nand at the time of his ordination he was thirty-two. \nHis pastorate lasted through forty-three years, and \nduring it the Unitarian movement under Channing \ntook place in Xew England, and, as was fit and \nproper, the former Braintree church, — the church of \nWheelwright and Briant, — fell readily into line on \nthe side of liberal Christianity. One hundred and \nsixteen years elapsed between the Cambridge synod, \nwhich so summarily suppressed the heresies of Wheel- \nwright, and the Braintree Ecclesiastical Council which \ndeprecated the teachings of Briant. A period of fifty \nyears followed during which the mind of Xew England \nwas drawn wholly away from problems of theology, \nand concentrated first on questions of civil rights and \nafterwards on questions of government. Not until the \nearlier years of the present century was political order \nestablished ; and then religious issues once more came \nto the front. New England Unitarianism assumed \nshape, and Channing foreshadowed Parker. John \nAdams, discussing in 1815 the principles of the new \ndeparture, found in them nothing that was not famil- \niarly known to him, and bore testimony to the fact \nthat sixty-five years before Lemuel Briant was a Uni- \n\n\n644 THE NORTH PRECINCT CHURCH. 1827. \n\ntarian.^ So the change from orthodoxy to Unitarian- \nism in the case of the first church of old Braintree \ncame in the fulness of time. \n\nThus in Quincy that ecclesiastical domination which \nhad ruled \" the Mount '•' with hand of iron passed \nslowly and imperceptibly away, and in 1827 Mr. \nWhitney was able to record that \" for the last thirty \nyears this society has been more united, perhaps, than \nany other in our country. No ' root of bitterness ' \nhas in any measure sprung up to trouble them ; none \nof that ill-will which sectarianism so often produces \nhas been found among them, nor have any of those \nsources of division arisen which in so many of the \ntowns of New England have cut the happiest societies \nasunder.\" \n\nThese words were written at the very time when the \nold epoch had come to a natural close, and the new \none was about to begin. The silence of the West \nQuincy hills was now broken by the sharp ring of the \nsledge on the drill, and loud blasts told of quar- \nries from which gangs of busy men were taking huge \nblocks of stone to be carried off on the newly-devised \nrailway, which, opened only the year before, was daily \nexamined by curious visitors from far and near. \nForces destined in a few years to revolutionize the \ntown were newly but actively at work. Though the \nMass had not yet been celebrated in Quincy, and, in- \ndeed, no new religious society had been organized there \nfor more than a century, the church and the town \nwere no longer one. The separation had taken place \nthree years before. Most significant of all, the old \nchurch edifice of 1732, in which three whole gener- \nations of townspeople had worshipped together as one \n\n1 Pattee, Old Braintree and Quincy, 222, note. \n\n\n1797. THE ERA ENDS. 645 \n\ncivil and religious family, — this plain, wooden meet- \ning-house was even then being removed to give place \nto that more pretentious temple of stone which was in \na few years to be known only as the place of worship \nof one, and not the most numerous, of the many re- \nligious societies into which the people of the town had \ndivided. \n\n\nCHAPTER III. \n\nLAND TITLES AND THE TOWN COMMONS. \n\nIn speaking of the town of Braiutree, then newly in- \ncorporated, Captain Edward Johnson, in his \" Won- \nder-working Providence,\" remarked, — \" Some of \nBoston retain their farms from being of their Town, \nyet do they lye within their bounds, and how it comes \nto pass I know not.\" It will also be remembered \nthat at the time of the incorporation two thousand \nacres had been \"set apart at the Mount\" for the use \nof Boston, \" in the most convenient place unallotted.\" \nFor several years thereafter Boston continued to make \nallotments in Braintree, until in January, 1644, a \ntract of three thousand acres was granted to John \n\"Winthrop, Jr., and others for the encouragement of \nsome iron-works then projected. Thus a quarter of \nthe entire township, large as it was, had been either \nreserved to Boston, or set aside as common lands, or \ngiven away to form large private estates. It has al- \nready been remarked that the actual settlers in Brain- \ntree seem as a rule to have been poor persons who \nreceived small allotments proportioned to the size of \ntheir families, usually four acres to \"a head,\" or for \neach member. On those who had received these allot- \nments fell the burden of the town's charges. \n\nTown charges, it is true, were in the earlier period \nin much the largest part for the supj)ort of the church : \nbut a contribution of £110 a year for that purpose, \n\n\n1639-41. \" INHABIT A NTS.\" 647 \n\nwhich was the amount at first annually paid to Messrs. \nTompson and Flynt, was a heavy burden ; for, even \nthough made in country pay, it represented, when \nthe relative numbers and wealth of the communities \nare considered, more than the equivalent of an an- \nnual assessment of a hundred thousand dollars upon \nthose now occupying the territory of the original town. \nNaturally, also, in the case of early Braintree, the \nexemption of the Boston allotments from their share \nof the charge was from the beginning a source of \njealousy and contention. The arrangement of 1639, \ntherefore, was one which could not be permanent. \nAccordingly, an order was passed by the Braintree \nfreeholders, as early as 1641, that no house or land in \nthe town should be sold to any one not an inhabitant \nuntil it had first been offered to \" the men ai323ointed \nto dispose of town affairs j \" and, in case they did not \nsee fit to purchase, it could then be sold \" only to \nsuch as the townsmen shall approve on.\" Nor could \nany one not received as an inhabitant build within the \ntown limits without permission. \n\nIn the seventeenth century the word \" inhabitant \" \ncarried with it a strict legal significance, very dif- \nferent from the loose meaning it has now ; for it in- \ncluded those only who as householders, or through the \noccupancy of the land, were interested in the manage- \nment or well-being of the locality : but it included all \nsuch, whether actually residing there or elsewhere. \nBy passing a vote, therefore, which strictly limited \nthe sale or transfer of land to such as \" the townsmen \nshall approve on,\" the freeholders made their town \nsomething very like a close corporation. Similar re- \nstrictions are found not only in the early records of \nthe Massachusetts towns, but they can be traced back \n\n\nGiS THE TOWN COMMONS. 1641. \n\nto the Teutonic mark sj^stem and the Salian, or \nFrank, law of the fourth and fifth centuries ; and, in- \ndeed, their ultimate origin would probably have to be \nlooked for, not in any village or tribal usages no mat- \nter how primitive, but imbedded deep in the animal \ninstincts of developed man.^ \n\nBut, while rigid restrictions on inhabitancy were \ncommon to all the original Massachusetts towns, and \nmay indeed be considered a fundamental principle of \ntheir polity, if not a necessary incident to their origin \nas commercial enterprises, yet in the particular case \nof Braintree it may further with confidence be sur- \nmised, that the inhibition of further non-resident land- \nownership, and the strict limitation of the incoming \nof new settlers, had a fourfold object. In the first \nplace, it was an outgrowth of the Antinomian excite- \nment and its alien law.^ Above all things, the peace \nof the church was not again to be disturbed ; and to \nthat end every element of civil and religious discord \nwas to be excluded. Church and town were one ; and \nit was thus reserved for the members of the church \nto say who might be inhabitants of the town. The \nLord's people were tQ be hedged in securely against \nintruders. Next, and second in importance only to \nreligious considerations, came the fact that the legal \ninhabitancy of the town carried with it certain rights \nand privileges in the common lands, then supposed to \nbe of value. Further on, these rights and privileges \nwill be more particularly referred to. Third, came in \nthe question of the support of the poor and the help- \nless. Under that system of English law and custom \nwhich the settlers had brought over with them, every \n\n^ See paper in Proceedings of Mass. Hist. Soc. Series II. vii. 202. \n2 Supra, 459. \n\n\n1641-7. ABSENTEE LANDOWNING. 649 \n\none had a right to insist on being kept from starving \nand freezing. That right was established by legal \nresidence. From the beginning, therefore, it has been \nmatter of deep concern ^vitll all Massachusetts towns \nto prevent the poor and dependent from becoming \nlegal inhabitants within their limits ; and this is still \nthe case. The ancient records contain cases in which \na married man is ordered to send his father-in-law, \nand a father and mother their married daughters, out \nof the town, and the answer was made that the parties \nordered \"would willingly be ridd of \" the incumbrances \nreferred to, but \" considering the relation that is be- \ntween them . . . could not turne [them] out of doars \nthis winter time.\" ^ The Braintree town order of 1641 \nwas to provide against this common liability. Fourth, \nand finally, the order was intended to meet in a certain \ndegree the vexatious question, peculiar to Brain4:ree, \nof non-resident ownership. The people of the town \nwished to purchase among themselves all lands and \ntenements offered for sale, so that neither land nor \ntenement should in future be held by any one who \ndid not actually live in Braintree and share in its \ntown and parish burdens. \n\nBut the evil of absentee land-ownership could not be \nremedied in this way. Accordingly, in 1647 another \nattempt was made to correct it. Upon a commuta- \ntion payment of X50 in five equal annual instalments, \n\" to be made in merchantable corn, as wheat, rye, \npeas, and Indian, at fifty shillings in each of them,\" \nBoston agreed that all land owned by its inhabitants \nin Braintree should, when laid out and improved, be \naccounted as Braintree lands, and as such become \nliable to every common town charge. But this agree- \n\n1 Fourth Report of Boston Record Commissioners, 180-2. \n\n\n650 THE TOWN COMMONS. 1640-1700. \n\nment, also, failed to settle the question. The unsur- \nveyed and unimproved lands next became the bone of \ncontention. Inhabitants of Boston, going back to the \nloose grants freely made in eai'lier times, claimed own- \nership. A vexatious and endless litigation seemed \ninuninent. On a greatly reduced scale, it was the ques- \ntion which during that century and the next involved \nEngland and France and Spain in war upon war. A \nwilderness was in dispute, the ownership of which \nrested on paper titles often coming in conflict with \nactual occupancy. Fortunately the parties to the con- \nflict in this case were not in a position to declare war \non each other, or even to come to blows ; but in Jan- \nuary, 1698, seventy freeholders of Braintree formally \nand in writing covenanted one with another \" to de- \nfend our ancient Rights, and oppose in a course of \nLaw those and all those that shall by any means dis- \nturbe, molest, or indeavour to disposesse \" any of their \nnumber; and they promised to bear as a common bur- \nden all charges which might arise out of the lawsuits \nexpected to ensue. \n\nThis determined front naturally brought about a \ncompromise, and in the year 1700 a body of the Brain- \ntree freeholders agreed to purchase all the waste land \nwithin the town limits, a title to which was claimed \nby inhabitants of Boston, paying therefor <£700 ; a \nsum which seems small, and the equivalent of perhaps \n112,000 only in our money, but to that territorial \ncommunity no less a burden than the payment of \n8700,000 would be now. In order effectually to pre- \nvent a repetition of the non-resident experience, it was \nat the same time, and at a public meeting, further \nvoted that no purchaser of these lands should make \nany conveyance of them to any outsiders, \" thereby to \n\n\n1700. FEUDALISM. 651 \n\nlet them have a foothold or interest in said purchase \nor any other way.\" The purchase-money was raised \nby voluntary subscription through the efforts of an \nassociation consisting of one hundred inhabitants of \nBraintree, and the Boston claims finally extinguished. \nIt was noticeable, also, and characteristic of the time \nand of the people, that the committee of the town of \nBoston appointed to execute the deed for these lands, \nand to receive the purchase-money, was further in- \nstructed to lay out \" the said money in some real \nEstate for the use of the Public Latin School.\" \n\nThus ended a controversy the importance of which \nto Braintree cannot be exaggerated. It involved a \nvital question, — that of a fixed rent-charge to be for- \never paid by the actual occupant of land to a technical \nowner. English and Irish experience had sought to \nrepeat itself on new soil. From the time of King \nJames' grants to the Virginia companies in 1606 \ndownwards, one grantee after another of large tracts \nof American wilderness had thought to secure forever \nsome annual return from them, just as English adven- \nturers and court favorites had secured similar returns \nfrom the grants of William the Conqueror, Henry \nVIII., and Elizabeth. It was proposed to transplant \nthe feudal system to America, and the future increase, \nat least, in land value, — what is now in the language \nof the political economist known as the unearned in- \ncrement, — was to be appropriated ; and the town of \nBoston, under the order of May, 1634, giving it \" con- \nvenient enlargement at Mount Wollaston,\" was but \ntaking the place of Lord Gorges under the Greenwich \nallotment of June, 1623.^ \n\nThus the Greenwich scheme on a most grandiose \n\n1 Supra, 139-40. \n\n\n652 THE TOWN COMMONS. 1G37-1700. \n\nscale, and the \"enlargement\" vote, with the subse- \nquent lavish Boston allotments, on a plan of greatly \nreduced proportions, were attempts to introduce into \nNew England something bearing a close resemblance \nto that land system which Strongbow had introduced \ninto Ireland four centuries and a half before. That \nthe first of these attempts failed was, it may safely be \nasserted, the making of New England ; the failure of \nthe last was essential to the prosperity of Braintree. \nThe occupants of the soil became the owners of it. \nPaying no rent, what they would under another sys- \ntem have been forced to pay as rent remained with \nthem ; and it represented that slow accretion of sub- \nstance which built up the community. The additional \nvalue which the laborer's toil gave to the land be- \nlonged to the resident toiler, and not to his absentee \nlandlord. \n\nThis is not the place to discuss in detail the cause \nof the failure of either the Gorges scheme of 1623, or \nthe \" enlargement \" scheme eleven years later ; though \nnow it is plain to see that the first was, from natural \neconomic influences, doomed from the start. Land- \nlordism depends on a monopoly of land ; and the \nabundance of cheap lands, combined with the want of \naccumulated ca^^ital, made landlordism impossible in \nAmerica. But, while this was true of the country as \na whole and of the Gorges scheme, it was by no means \nequally true of \" the Mount \" and the Boston \" en- \nlargement \" plan. The net of the law was thrown over \n\"the Mount\" in 1637, when provision was first made \nfor a church there, and again in 1640, when a town \nwas incorporated. From that net the people of Brain- \ntree had to extricate themselves. The agreement of \nJanuary 10, 1698, was accordingly their declaration of \n\n\n1665. AN INDIAN TITLE. 653 \n\nindependence of landlordism. The contract of 26th \nJanuary, 1700, was the recognition of that indepen- \ndence. The long struggle between the paper claimants \nof the soil, on the one side, and its actual occupants, \non the other side, runs through sixty years of the town \nrecords. It was only an episode in the history of an \ninsignificant New England village, and as such is be- \nneath the notice of history. Yet it had great histori- \ncal significance. In a natural way, all unconsciously \nto those composing it, a single member in a commu- \nnity of towns was asserting itself in the line of com- \nmon development. \n\nBut there was a vested right in the soil of New \nEngland anterior to the title derived from the crown, \n— the right of occupancy by the Indians. Every \ngrant made by the General Court was made subject \nto this right, and it devolved upon the grantee to \nextinguish it by purchase. The \" convenient enlarge- \nment \" at the Mount was no exception to the rule, and \nthis fact led to a complication which now reads like a \nburlesque on those national claims then so freely as- \nserted and so bloodily argued. While the controversy \nwith Boston was still dragging on, certain inhabitants \nof Brain tree on behalf of the whole secured, as a \nmuniment of title and out of mere superabundance \nof caution, a deed of the township from some of the \nIndian descendants of Chickatabot. This deed, duly \nsigned and sealed, with delivery \" by turf and twig,\" \nconveyed to the grantees one of those Indian titles so \nfrequently met with in the early records of New Eng- \nland, — titles the result of transactions which grave \nhistorians have not hesitated to defend and even to \nextol, but which in point of fact were a mockery of \nlaw, and entitled to no more consideration than if \n\n\n654 THE TOWN COMMONS. 1683. \n\nthose defrauded through them had been Infants or \nsimpletons. Nevertheless, the so-called Wampatuck \ndeed of 16G5 professed to convey a title to Braintree \ntownship from (Certain ignorant savages, who never \nowned the soil^ to eight grantees, among whom was \none Richard Thayer. Seventeen years later, in 1692, \nKichard Thayer not only asserted his title to the \nwhole township by virtue of this deed, but actually \npetitioned the Privy Council to have the property put \nin his hands, he having been driven from it \" to his \nbitter Ruine.\" \n\nThis occurred in the latter years of the reign of \nCharles II., — a period during which Massachusetts \nwas not in favor at court. It was not possible to \nknow what secret, or even corrupt, influences might \nbe at work behind a distant and all-powerful tribunal \nlike the Privy Council, and the freeholders wei*e \ngreatly stirred when tidings reached them of this new \nassault. An address to the King was at once pre- \npared, and \" subscribed by an hundred and thirty- \nfour hands out of this small town ; \" after which it \nwas duly forwarded to Joseph Dudley and John \nRichards, the agents of the colony in London, and by \nthem filed with the Privy Council. The document \nand the accompanying letter of transmittal, presu- \nmably the work of that \" true New England man,\" as \nSewell describes him. Colonel Edmund Quincy, were \ncharacteristic of the time, and in it the claimant's \nhistory, methods and belongings were set forth with \nprimitive directness. Thayer, it was alleged, had \ncome to New England some forty years before, one of \n\" eight poor children \" of a very poor father, whose \nshop, for he w^as a cobbler, \" woidd now hardly con- \ntaine (the claimant) with his arms a Kimbow. And \n\n\n1683. SAXON USAGES. 655 \n\nof a muslirome liee' s swolne in conceipt to a Coloss \nor giant of State, and dreams of a Dukedome.\" The \nbody of the town, it was further stated, looked upon \nthemselves \" as basely traduced by Thayer's reports ; \nwhose cards, had they been good, hee had the less \nneed of cheating, fraud and falsehood to helpe him \nout ; \" but \" he hath been dealing so much for Indian \ndeeds and titles to land, and by these ways, having \nmade himself one of the forlorn hope among men \nof desperate fortunes, he hath left himself little or \nnothing but such imaginary vexatious claims to his \nneighbors lands and possessions.\" Nothing more is \nrecorded of Richard Thayer and his claim ; but the \nWampatuck deed of 1665, preserved doubtless among \nthe papers of Edmund Quincy, has long hung in the \nBraintree Town-hall, an interesting reminder of a class \nof fictitious or fraudulent conveyances which for over \nhalf a century threw a cloud on colonial land titles. \n\nThe wrangle over land titles and absentee ownership \nthus occupied sixty years, but the questions and quar- \nrels which arose out of the possession of the commons \nrequired in their settlement twice that space of time. \nIn the original Braintree there were three descriptions \nof these common lands ; they included a little less than \n2,000 acres, and were known as the South and North \nCommons, the ministerial land and the school land. \nWhen it is said that the settlers of Massachusetts \nwere as a body common people of the purest English \nblood, much naturally follows. The English are a \ntenacious race, not easily adapting themselves to new \nconditions. They brought to New England, there- \nfore, together with their language and families and \nhousehold stuffs, a mass of customs and usages which \ndated back to the Saxon days of King Ceawlin and \n\n\n656 THE TOWN COMMONS. \n\nIne, but were little applicable to the new surround- \nings. Of these usages and customs many yet remain \nin the more remote towns, strange relics of the almost \nforgotten communal system of early German life. An- \ntiquarians from time to time come across them, and \nwhen they do so they are apt to expatiate, as if it \nwere matter of surprise that the first settlers, in bring- \ning with them their Saxon tongue, also brought their \nSaxon village ways.^ Yet such was the fact. They \nnot only brought those ways, but, after their natures, \nthey were slow to see that in many respects such ways \ndid not fit into their new life. In the matter of com- \nmon lands, for instance, the original settlers came \nfrom a country in which almost every hamlet had its \ncommon and its rights of commonage, and in which \nalso public institutions, whether religious or educa- \ntional, were endowed, and thus, to a large extent, self- \nsustaining. Accordingly, almost as a matter of course, \nprovision was very generally made in the Massachu- \nsetts towns to reproduce the system to which the set- \ntlers had been accustomed at home. The church and \nthe school were provided for, and the inhabitant to a \ncertain extent believed of the burden of supporting \nthem ; while the town commons, either through the \nrental derived from lettin«: them or the direct value of \nthe rights enjoyed in them, were intended to supply \na revenue which should go far towards meeting the \nmiscellaneous expenses of the town. All descriptions \nof public charge would to a large extent in this way be \n\n\n1 Doyle, English in America ; the Puritan Colonies, i. 74 ; Adams, \nGermanic Origin of New England Towns, Johns Hopkins University \nStudies, i. ; Andrews, Theory of the Village Community, Am. Hist. \nAssociation Papers, v. 47 ; Remarks of Messrs. Chamberlain and \nGoodell, Proa. Mass. Hist. Sac. Series II. v. 272, 320. \n\n\nTRADITIONAL PROVISIONS. 657 \n\nprovided for ; and, in point of fact, as will presently \nbe seen, more than a century after Braintree was in- \ncorporated the annual taxation of its inhabitants was \nlittle more than nominal, the revenue derived from \nthe school lands and the town commons, badly man- \naged as both were, materially contributing to the re- \nduction of direct public charges. \n\nWhile, therefore, the original settlers in Braintree \nundoubtedly brought with them from England the \ntraditional idea of commons, yet, under the primitive \nsystem, half political and half commercial, with which \nthey, like others at that time, organized their town, \nsuch an idea would also naturally have suggested it- \nself. In a country yet unoccupied, those preparing to \noccupy it merely made provision out of the unappro- \npriated domain to relieve themselves individually of a \nportion at least of those few public charges which \nwere then incident to every civil community ; while, \nat the same time, as a body of proprietors, — stock- \nholders they would now be called, — they reserved an \nundivided interest in a tract of territory of present or \nprospective value. Apart from all question of tra- \ndition and usage, the proceeding, under the circum- \nstances, indicated merely that ordinary forethought \nto be looked for in a thrifty, pro\\ddent race. \n\nThe plan was not only natural, it was well devised ; \nbut, unfortunately for its practical success, the settlers \ndid not make due allowance for changed conditions. \nComing from a country in which all the desirable land \nwas occupied, they were beginning the settlement of \na wilderness, wherein, except in favored spots, land \nhardly repaid the cost of fencing. The occupant of it \ncertainly could not afford to pay rent. Yet to get \nfree from the English traditions and grasp this new \n\n\n658 THE TOWX COMMONS. 1666. \n\nfact seems to have required the lifetime of more than \na generation of settlers. While existing in a wilder- \nness still infested with forest animals and inaccessible \nfor want of roads, the earlier generations were haunted \nwith the fear of outsiders coming in. Such, instead \nof giving value to what then had no value, would seek, \nit was thought, to share a privilege the utter worth- \nlessness of which, with the characteristic stolidity of \ntheir race, the original settlers failed to realize. \n\nIt was the common case of traditions and theories \nin conflict with realities ; and consequently the Brain- \ntree commons, like those of most other towns, early \nproved a source of quarrel and vexation. The privi- \nlege of taking stone, timber and thatch from those \ncommons, as well as pasturing cows upon them, was \nlono- reofarded as valuable. It was one of the advan- \ntages pertaining to the commercial side of the organi- \nzation. As early as 1646 a vote was passed, authoriz- \ning: legral inhabitants to take timber off the commons \nfor any use in the town, but imposing a penalty of five \nshillings a ton on an}' sold out of the town. For years \nvotes of a similar character were from time to time re- \ncorded, especially in regard to stone for building ma- \nterial. Then, not satisfied with the commons they had \nwithin their own limits, with genuine Anglo-Saxon \nland-hunoer, a number of the Braintree freeholders \npetitioned the General Court in 1666 for a grant \nof 6,000 acres elsewhere. The reason they assigned \nwas that the town lands held in commonage were \nlimited in quantity, only 2,000 acres, and \" very poor \nand barren \" as well as \" much worn out ; \" that the \ninhabitants were multiplying and ''already much \nstraightened,\" as a great part of the township was \nheld by \" Gentlemen and friends of other Towns \" \n\n\n1666-1715. A TERRITORIAL GRANT. 659 \n\nwhich the townspeople were \" inforced by their wants \nto hire of them at dear rates : \" but the petition was, \nin fact, an outbreak of the general and indiscriminate \nland fever which then and ever since has prevailed in \nAmerica. In this case the General Court listened to \nthe prayer addressed to it, and \" on consideration of \nthe reasons therein expressed \" made a grant of 6.000 \nacres '• in some place, limited to one place, not pre- \njudicing any plantation or particular grant ; \" and, a \nfew years later on. this practice of granting to towns \ntracts of land at a distance for settlement became com- \nmon. \n\nTerritorial questions, and the issues arising out of \nthe disposition to be made of a public domain, were \nthus brought before the Braintree town-meeting. In \nthe first place the grant had to be definitely located, \nand this proved a long and difficult process, so that \nKing Philip's war broke out and wholly absorbed the \nmind of the General Court before anything definite \nwas accomplished. At last, after that war was brought \nto a close, Braintree in 1679 again petitioned the \nCourt that. \" since the Lord out of his rich grace had \nmade them lords of the heathen land, they might have \nan opportunity to have ratified the former grant ; \" \nand in answer to this quaint request leave was granted \nthe petitioners ** to lay out their sixe thousand acres \nin any vacant place \" within the Massachusetts juris- \ndiction. The matter now seems to have lain dormant \nfor thirty-four years, uutil in June, 1713. a committee \nwas appointed to find and lay out the 6.000 acres, who \nwere to receive \" for their so doing Thirty Pounds if \nthe thing be eftVcted. otherwise nothing.*' The grant \nwas now, in 1715, confirmed, and the land assigned in \nthat part of Worcester County since incorporated as \n\n\n660 THE TOWN COMMONS. 1714-20. \n\nNew Braintree. In other words, it was much as it \nnow is when a territory is organized, out of which a \nnew State is ultimately to be created. But it was at \nthis point the real trouble began, for it became neces- \nsary to devise some definite policy for dealing with the \npublic domain. Was that domain to be held ? — or \nwas it to be disposed of ? — and, if disposed of, was it \nto be for the benefit of individuals, or of the commu- \nnity ? — If for the benefit of individuals, to whom did \nit belong, and how was it to reach the beneficiaries? \n— If for the benefit of the community, how and to \nwhat public uses was it to be applied ? — The Congres- \nsional discussions of the future were anticipated in the \nwearisome town-meeting wrangles which, through long \nyears, took place within the walls of the old stone \nmeeting-house of Braintree. \n\nAccordingly, in 1714 it was voted that the grant \nshould be sold ; and the year following it was voted \nit should not be sold. The question was then agitated \nas to whom the land in question belonged ; and a \ncommittee appointed, in 1719, to consider the matter, \nin due time reported that, in the opinion of those \ncomposing the committee, the land \" belonged to the \nPersons that were [at the time the grant was made, in \n1667] Freeholders and to their Posterity.\" This con- \nclusion the town refused to adopt ; and then, after \nfirst voting neither to sell nor lease the grant, it finally, \nin apparent despair of any other solution, voted \" that \nthe said Land should be sold, the produce thereof to \nbe disposed for the use of the Town for ever ; \" but \n*' against this vote Ephraim Thayer entered his dis- \nsent.\" This decision was reached in 1720 ; but it did \nnot prove final. And so the vexed question dragged \nalong, — the action in the town-meeting of one year \n\n\n1727. A LONG WRANGLE. 661 \n\nbeing reversed in the town-meeting of the next, — the \ngrant remaining a useless and apparently a worthless \nbone of contention, until at last in 1727, — sixty years \nafter the General Court acceded to the prayer of the \noriginal petitioners, — Jt was finally voted that, ''for \nthe more Peaceable settlement \" of the matter, the \nland should be equally divided, as nearly as might be, \nbetween the two precincts, \" to be henceforward man- \naged, improved and further Divided or Disposed of, \nas shall be agreed on and ordered by each Precinct \nRespectively from time to time for ever hereafter.\" \n\nThis was one phase — what might be termed the \nterritorial phase — of the public domain question. \nThe other phase of the same question related to the \ncommunal lands within the township, — the so-called \nBraintree commons, which the inhabitants used \" to \npasture upon for the Summer time those cattle which \nthey [were] necessitated to raise and keep.\" These \nlands, it has already been said, included some 1,800 \nacres within the town limits, lying in two different \nparcels and known as the North and the South Com- \nmons. Each year and at almost every town-meeting, \nthe freeholders were called upon to take some action \nlooking to what was called the improvement or to the \ndefence of the town lands, and no less than 180 votes \nrelating to this subject are found in the records. Al- \nmost endless provision of an unavailing sort was made \nto prevent waste, — votes looking to the preservation \nof the boul lers scattered over the granite hills, or the \ntrees on the scanty soil which overlaid them. Through \na long series of years portions of the common lands \nwere periodically fenced in, and litigation ensued. The \nlands were then leased, and the rent applied to the \nsupport of the school : but this plan of improvement \n\n\n662 THE TOWN COMMONS. 1750. \n\nfailed in its turn, the lessees complaining bitterly of \ntrespasses and encroachments, and finally throwing the \nlease up. In their memorial they particuhirly referred \nto one open way which had been recently laid out \nthrough these lands ; and they ^dd that, \" although we \nrepeatedly attempted to fence against the same by a \nsufficient stone wall, yet we w^ere as often prevented \nby certain unknown evil-minded persons, who, as fast \nas we built up the wall by day, did in the night-time \nthrow the same down again.\" \n\nUnder these circumstances both the lessees and the \ntown were discouraged. However it might be in Eng- \nland, the remains of the communal land system, be- \nyond the limits of a training-field and burying-ground, \nwere not productive of satisfactory results in Massa- \nchusetts. It was accordingly proposed that the com- \nmons should be sold ; and this question divided the \ntown for years, just as it has since divided the Parlia- \nment of Great Britain and the Congress of the United \nStates. The problem w^hich Burke and Benton de- \nbated on a large scale was, on a smaller scale, and be- \nfore they w^ere born, discussed in the Braintree town- \nmeetings. \"The Difficulties and Disputes Relating \nto said Commons \" seem to have culminated about the \nyear 1750 ; for they then occupied the attention of the \ntown-meetings almost to the exclusion of other busi- \nness, and the meagre records still bear evidence to the \nheat with which the subject was wrangled over, for \neach article of the warrants relating to it is disposed \nof only after \" considerable \" or \" great debate,\" and \nthe question would be \" voted and contested. Polled \nand determined.\" At last, in 1753, the issue was \nfairly raised whether the town would set a price on \nthe commons with a view to their sale ; and, a little \n\n\n1753. DIFFICULTIES. 663 \n\nlater in the same year, after refusing to appoint a \ncommittee \" to consider what method would be best to \nRegulate the Towns Commons by Dividing, selling, or \nLetting,\" it was voted to divide them, and a commit- \ntee of fifteen, at the head of which were John Quincy \nand Josiah Quincy, was appointed to repoi-t a method \nof division. A month later this committee made to \nthe adjourned meeting a report which, in brevity at \nleast, was a model document. It was in these words : \n— \" At a meeting of the Committee appointed by the \nTown to Consider and Report, what may be the most \nproper method of Dividing the Towns commons. The \nsubject being fully considered and Debated, upon the \nQuestion being put whether it was best for the Town \nto Divide the same by Poles or Estates, the Committee \nwas equally divided in their opinion thereon.\" This \nreport was presented on the 16th of April, and a num- \nber of freeholders present at the meeting recorded \ntheir dissent '' against dividing the commons by Poles,\" \nbut, at a subsequent adjourned meeting held a month \nlater, \" after considerable debate \" the division by polls \nwas voted, and a new committee of five, \" they serving \nthe Town Gratis,\" was appointed to consider \" who \nmay and ought to be interested \" in the division de- \ncided upon, and *' to produce an exact list of all such \npersons.\" The name of Quincy did not appear among \nthose composing this committee, which a month later \nmade its report and submitted a list of those entitled \nto share in the division, both of which documents were \n\" Lodged with the Clerk.\" Yet, though the course \nnow recommended was approved and adopted, and \n'\" all votes that have heretofore passed Respecting the \nDivision of the Towns commons [were] Ratified and \nconfirmed,\" the commons still remained undivided. \n\n\n0G4 THE TOWN COMMONS. 1762. \n\nIn so far as the public domain sufficed for so doing, \nevery freeholder had voted himself a farm ; but the \nfarm remained in the common possession, and was not \nconveyed to the individual. Such a method of division \nmight commend itself to the average voter, but it was \nnot practicable. \n\nAccordingly, the next year the question of leasing \nagain presented itself, and was referred to a com- \nmittee ; and, at an adjourned town-meeting held on \nthe 6th of March, 1755, a number of oj^en ways were \nlaid out through the commons. Then, on the 24th of \nthe same month, a special meeting was called to recour \nsider these votes, \" as they were passed when there was \nbut a small number of the Inhabitants by reason of \nthe extraordinary snow ; \" and \" the Question was put \nwhether the Town concur with any of the votes passed \nat the adjournment voted and Polled, concurred, 83, \nnon Concurred, 91.\" But, though nothing more seems \nto have been done to bring about a division in severalty \namong the inhabitants of the town, the contention still \nwent on until in 1762 the lessees of the commons \nfound themselves so annoyed and molested in the \nmanner which has already been described, that they \nformally declined to fulfil any longer the conditions \nof their leases. The name of \"Mr.\" John Adams \nnow appears for the first time in the records ; hereto- \nfore it had always been with the prefix of \" Lieuten- \nant\" or \"Deacon\" Having graduated at Harvard \nin the class of 1755, John Adams was now twenty- \nseven and had been practising law in Braintree about \nfour years ; though, apparently, he had held no office, \nfor his name does not appear in the records, he had, \nas a matter of course with a New England young \nman of that period, felt a lively interest in town \n\n\n1765. \"3//?.\" JOHN ADAMS. 665 \n\npolitics. As the action of the lessees of the commons \ninvolved a legal issue, the matter was referred to a \nspecial committee, at the head of which was '' Mr. \nJohn Adams.\" It was his entrance into public life, \nand the disposition to be made of the Braintree com- \nmons was the first of many issues involving questions \nof state policy with which he was destined to find him- \nself confronted. Years afterwards he briefly told the \nstory of what ensued : — \n\n\" In 1763 or 1764 the town voted to sell their common \nlands. This had been a subject of contention for many \nyears. The south parish was zealous, and the middle parish \nmuch inclined to the sale ; the north parish was against it. \nThe lands in their common situation appeared to me of \nvery little utility to the public or to individuals ; under the \ncare of proprietors where they should become private prop- \nerty, they would probably be better managed and more \nproductive. My opinion was in favor of the sale. The \ntown now adopted the measure, appointed Mr. Nlles, Mr. \nBass, and me to survey the lands, divide them into lots, to \nsell them by auction, and execute deeds of them in behalf \nof the town.\" \n\nThis was done, and so the strifes, contentions, litiga- \ntions and ill feelings which the commons had through \na century and a quarter engendered between neighbors, \nfriends and freeholders were ended ; nor that only, for \nat the same time a great element of corruption was re- \nmoved from town politics, for jobbing out the commons \ncould no longer be used in the interest of candidates at \nthe annual elections. \n\n\nCHAPTER IV. \n\nTHE HIGHWAYS. \n\nLike most primitive settlements which are not \nthemselves seminal, — such as Boston, Salem and \nPlymouth, — Braintree grew up naturally at certain \nmore favored or fertile points on the line of a main \nthoroughfare between considerable local centres lying \nbeyond its own limits. In this case the thoroughfare \nconnected the Massachusetts and the Plymouth col- \nonies, and the line followed by it was dictated in ad- \nvance by the lay of the land, the points of ferriage or \nfording, and the course of the brooks. The construc- \ntion of a great coast road from Newbury, on the Mer- \nrimac, to Hingham — the northern and southern limits \nof the Massachusetts Bay Colony — was ordered by \nsj^ecial vote of the General Court in November, 1639, \ntwo months after the Braintree church was gathered. \nThose deputed to lay out the new road were em- \npowered to do so wherever it might \" bee most con- \nvenient, notwithstanding any man's propriety, or any \ncome ground, so as it occation not the puling downe \nof any man's house or laying open any garden or \norchard.\" Its width was not specified, excei3t in the \ncommon lands or where the soil was wet and miry ; \nit was there to be six, eight and even ten rods wide. \nAt first designed to connect all the outlying coa,st \ntowns of the Massachusetts Bay with Boston, it natu- \nrally was almost immediately continued along the \n\n\n1039. THE COAST ROAD. 667 \n\nshore to Plymouth. South of Boston it doubtless \nclosely followed the old Indian trail, seeking the \nfords, avoiding morasses, clinging to the uplands, and \nskirting the rough, wooded heights. This trail in due \ncourse of time was succeeded by the blazed way, axe- \nmarks on the bark of trees supplying for the settler \nthose more subtle indications which had pointed out a \npath to the savage. The blazed trail was shortly suc- \nceeded by the bridle-path, which was little more than \nthe blazed trail made passable to such extent that \nonly at certain points were horsemen forced to dis- \nmount and lead their steeds over difficult ground. \nThe highway was beginning to take shape. Natu- \nrally, these incipient roads were far from straight, and ' \nin following them many fences and gates had to be \npassed. They were, in fact, little more than a suc- \ncession of farm lanes running through cleared and \nfenced lands, and open only through the commons. \nGradually these farm lanes were fenced in, and the \nbars and gates removed, until at last the lanes were \nmore or less straightened out, and made public waj^s. \nBut the genesis of the Massachusetts town roads can \nbest be studied in the history of one of them, and the \noriginal main thoroughfare through Braintree, con- \nnecting it with Boston, is fairly typical. \n\nIn a direct line the centre of the North Precinct \nwas but little more than seven miles from Boston \nstone ; and the devious character of the colonial ways \nis well illustrated by the fact that the great coast road \nof 1639 increased this seven miles to ten. It followed \nin some degree the line of the bay shore in order to \nescape the difficult Blue Hill formation ; and yet it \nwas forced to make a long detour to avoid the creeks \nand marshes which everywhere indent the coast : but \n\n\n668 THE HIGHWAYS. 1634. \n\nthe Neponset River was the great obstacle to be over- \ncome ; and for more than twenty years that puny \nstream seems to have defied every colonial effort to \nsecure a crossing which could always be depended \nupon. Indeed, the futile attempts to supply one afford \nperhaps as clear an insight as can be obtained into \nthe process through which the road development of \nNew England was gradually worked out. \n\nThe matter of a public-way crossing of the Nepon- \nset which could be depended on by travellers under \nany circumstances and at all seasons first received the \nattention of the General Court in 1634, the year in \nwhich Boston had \" enlargement at Mount WooUis- \nton.\" Mr. Israel Stoughton was then granted liberty \nto build a mill, weir and bridge at the river's lower \nfalls. Five months later, at the next session of the \ncourt, an exclusive mill privilege on the Neponset was \ngranted to Stoughton, wdio, on the other hand, agreed \nto ■ ' make and keep in repair a sufficient horse-bridge \nover the said river,\" which here was even at that time \nprobably not one hundred feet in width : but the \nbuilding of this bridge was an important event in the \nhistory of the colony, — as important as the building \nof the St. Louis bridge across the Missouri in the his- \ntory of the nation more than two centuries late-r ; and, \nindeed, the earlier effort taxed much the more severely \nof the two the resources of the community which at- \ntempted it. Father of a son more famous than him- \nself, and whose name in connection wdth the simple \nbut venerable hall which perpetuates his memory is a \nhousehold word among the graduates of Harvard Col- \nlege, Israel Stoughton was a man of enterprise and \nsubstance. In the summer of 1634 he built on the \nNeponset the mill at which was ground the first bushel \n\n\n1634-5. STOUGHTON'S MILL. \n\nof corn ever made into meal by water-power in Mas- \nsachusetts. This prototype of all the busy water- \nwheels in New England stood at the foot of Milton \nHill, on the Dorchester side of the stream, in the \nmidst of a wilderness ; for it was four miles from any \nsettlement on the north, while to the southward, Wes- \nsagusset was the nearest inhabited place. There was \nno road to it, and in 1634 the bridge at Stoughton's \nmill was probably little more than a succession of logs \nthrown from rock to rock, affording passage across \nthe tumbling stream to people on foot only. In the \nautumn of that year the blazed trail seems to have \nbeen converted into a bridle-path ; for the town of \nDorchester then ordered a road to the mill, and voted \nthe sum of five pounds with which to make it. This \namounted to a little over one pound a mile for a road \nthrough a wilderness, and it was the scheme appar- \nently to make a trail passable for horses, so that those \nhaving corn to be ground could get access to the mill \nby land as well as water. Such was the beginning of \nthe Plymouth road through Dorchester. \n\nMount Wollaston was now annexed to Boston, and \na number of allotments made there, so that the need \nof a land route between the two places began to make \nitself felt. Accordingly, in 1635, John Holland, a \nwealthy and enterprising Dorchester man, was author- \nized to keep a ferry lower down the river and not far \nfrom its mouth, charging fourpence for the carriage of \neach passenger, or threepence each in case there were \nmore than one passenger. There were not passengers \nenough to make the business of carrying them a pay- \ning one ; so this ferry was soon discontinued, and an- \nother established higher up the river, subsequently \nknown, from the rate of fares established for it, as \n\n\n670 THE HIGHWAYS. 1635-52. \n\nthe \" penny ferry.\" It was intended for the convey- \nance of foot passengers ; and, indeed, owing to the \nflats in the river's bed, could have been used only \nwhen the tide was partially up. Like its predecessor \nfurther down the stream, it soon proved a failure, \nand was discontinued. \n\nYears passed away, and the problem of crossing the \nNeponset was still unsolved ; yet the difficulty was \none sure to force its own solution in time, for the \nriver had to be crossed by every one journeying the \nlength of the great coast road. Under the order of \n1639 any town guilty of a default in the construction \nof so much of this road as lay within its limits ren- \ndered itself liable to a fine of five pounds ; and, in \nview of its long neglect to build a bridge, measures \nwere taken to enforce this penalty against Dorchester. \nThe town then petitioned the Court for a remission \nof the fine. This was allowed in May, 1652, but only \non condition that the bridge should be constructed in \npursuance of law, within three months, \" and, if not, \nthe said fine to take place according to the court \norder, the making of such bridges over such river, \nbeing no more than is usual in the like case.\" \n\nDorchester was stimulated by this pressure to ac- \ntion, but it seems to have been very loath to go into \nbridge-building ; so the town bethought itself of the \nclause in the exclusive grant to Israel Stoughton, in \n1634, one condition of which was that the grantee \nshould \" make and keep in repair a sufficient horse- \nbridge \" over the river. Israel Stoughton w^as then \ndead, but his widow owned and worked the mill ; so \nproceedings were begun against her. She in her turn, \nhad recourse to the General Court, and petitioned to \nbe discharged from her liability. After some investi- \n\n\n1655. THE NEPONSET BRIDGED. 671 \n\ngation the prayer of the widow Stoughton was granted \nin part ; and, in view of the fact that near the mill \nthere was a good fording-place with a gravel bottom, \nshe was excused from building a horse-bridge on con- \ndition that she should maintain a good foot-bridge, \nwith a sufficient hand-rail. Satisfied with this con- \ncession, the widow seems to have adopted a policy of \nmasterly inactivity, and the next spring the attention \nof the Court was called to the fact that, so far from \na new foot-bridge having been built, the old bridge \nduring the winter had been wholly ruined. Then at \nlast, in May, 1655, the matter was taken energetically \nin hand. It was time. Massachusetts now numbered \na population of over twenty thousand, dwelling in \nmore than a score of towns, while Plymouth had five \nthousand people in five towns ; and a little river only \nseven miles from Boston, on the main road between \nthe two colonies, was still unbridged, and in times of \nfreshet must for days together have been impassable. \nThe construction of a cart-bridge \" neere Mrs. Stough- \nton's mill \" was now, therefore, pronounced both a ne- \ncessity and a county matter, and ordered to be under- \ntaken at once ; a committee of six, among whom was \nDeacon Samuel Bass, of Braintree, was appointed, \nwith full powers to fix the place of the structure and \nto contract for building it, the cost to be duly appor- \ntioned amongr the several towns. The committee seem \nto have done their work effectively, and nothing more \nwas heard of a bridge across the Neponset. Indeed, \nfor a whole century and a half the travel between \nBoston and the south shore followed the old Plym- \nouth road across Roxbury Neck through Dorchester, \nand over Milton Hill by the bridge at Stoughton's \nmiU. \n\n\nG72 THE HIGHWAYS. 1G35-8. \n\nThe first attempt to fix the line of the coast road \nthrough Braintree was in 1641 ; but not until 1G48 was \nthe final location made. Starting from the Milton line \nand running at the base of the hills, crossing brooks \nat the points where uplands were nearest each other, \nthe coast thoroughfare divided, in the way already de- \nscribed, at the stone meeting-house, immediately be- \nyond the bridge over the little brook known as the \nTown River ; coming together just south of the meet- \ning-house, the two forks became one road, which \nagain took the best line, or line of least resistance \nrather, to the foot of the next range of upland, always \navoiding the swamps : then, crossing a spur of the \ngranite hills by a sharp ascent and decline, it ap- \nproached the Monatiquot, which, like the Neponset, \nproved an obstacle not easy to overcome. As early as \n1635 a ferry had been established across the Monati- \nquot between Mount Wollaston and Wessagusset, the \ntoll being one jienny for each person and threepence \nfor each horse. The ferryman was one Thomas Apple- \ngate, of whom not much is known, except that he was \nmarried to a wife, Elizabeth, who would seem to have \nbeen an unamiable woman, inasmuch as in 1636, \" for \nswearing, railing, and reviling,\" she was sentenced by \nthe magistrates to stand with her tongue in a cleft- \nstick. Applegate did not long have charge of the \nferry ; for, in March, 1636, six months only after he \nwas licensed, Henry Kingman, of Weymouth, was put \nin his place. A year later Kingman was authorized \nto keep a tavern in connection with his ferry, and the \ntoll in March, 1638, was raised to twopence a person; \nbut Applegate appears to have remained in King- \nman's employ, for this year in crossing the ferry he \nupset a canoe in his charge, and into which he had \n\n\n1639-44. MONATIQUOT BRIDGE. 673 \n\ncrowded nine persons, three of whom were drowned. \nFor this misadventure he was summoned before the \nGeneral Court, and Richard Wright, a prominent \npersonage at \" the Mount,\" was commissioned \" to \nstave that canoe, out of which those persons were \ndrowned.\" The matter ended with the appearance \nof Applegate and five others before the March Gen- \neral Court of 1639, which discharged them with an \nadmonition not in \" future to venture too many in \nany boat.\" But in consequence of this mishap the \nuse of canoes at ferries was interdicted. \n\nAt its September session the General Court of 1639 \nchanged the location of the Kingman ferry, and at the \nsame time reduced the toll to a penny. Two months \nlater the act providing for the construction of the coast \nroad was passed, and, as the road was laid out in 1641, \nthe ferry undoubtedly was a link in it. Subsequently \nJohn Winthrop, Jr., established his iron-works in that \nneighborhood, and a stone bridge was in 1644 built \nacross the Monatiquot, ten years before the Neponset \nwas bridged at the Milton Falls. \n\nThe section of the coast road within the limits of \nBraintree was about five miles in length, the church \nbeing not far from midway. It was the backbone \nupon which the growing settlement formed itself. At \nfirst it had but three lateral branches, — two to points \nupon the shore, and one to what subsequently became \nthe Second Precinct of the town. From this simple \nbeginning the system of modern town-ways gradually \ndeveloped, the lane and farm-way regularly, at the \nproper time, becoming the village road and town street, \nfierce contests sometimes arising over questions of pre- \nscriptive right. But from 1641 to 1803 the old coast \nroad remained the single thoroughfare from Braintree, \nand Quincy, to Boston. \n\n\n674 THE HIGHWAYS. 1730-61. \n\nDuring Braintree's first century it is questionable \n\"whether the roads were kept in systematic repair. \nThat they, in common with those of all the other Mas- \nsachusetts country towns, were very bad, and, at the \nseason of the year when the frost comes out of the \nground, well-nigh impassable, may safely be inferred ; \nfor there was no tax imposed for constructing or keep- \ning them in order, and such work as was done upon \nthem was done by commutation or in kind. That is, \nat certain seasons of the year every one was called \nupon to labor on the highways, bringing with him his \nhorses or his oxen, if he had them, his cart and his \ntools. The principles of road construction were not \nunderstood, and, needless to say, the labor and time \nthus expended were largely thrown away. \n\nAs early as 1730 \" the affair of mending or repair- \ning the Highways \" in the usual method, by surveyors, \nor by a town rate, had, in the Braintree town-meet- \nings, been the occasion of \" some considerable De- \nbate.\" In 1734 the question was again agitated, and \nnow \" the vote was thought by some not to be clear, \nafter which it was decided by the Poll in the nega- \ntive.\" In 1756, \" large Debate being had thereon,\" \nthe town decided in favor of a rate ; but, a few days \nlater, this action was promptly reconsidered, and \n\" the usual method of surveyors \" substituted there- \nfor. It may be inferred that the condition of the \nways was now very bad ; for, in 1761, when the ques- \ntion of repairing them by special tax or as theretofore \ncame up, \"after considerable Debate thereon Coll. \nJosiah Quincy made a Present of Fifty Dollars to \nthe Town to be expended in mending the ways ; '* \nwhereupon the town at once voted its thanks to \" the \nCollo. for his noble and Generous Grant ; \" fifty dol- \n\n\n1761. AMATEUR ROAD MAKING. 675 \n\nlars represented the labor for one month of two men \nand one horse and cart at the rate of wages then paid. \nAs will presently appear, John Adams was chosen \nSurveyor of Highways at the town-meeting in which \nColonel Quincy made his offer, and very possibly it \nwas Colonel Quincy's gift of fifty dollars that the \nyoung surveyor used in ploughing, ditching, blowing \nrocks and building bridges during the ensuing season ; \nfor, as no tax was levied, it is not apparent from \nwhat source other than tbis the money spent could \nhave been derived. \n\nIn any event the change of system as respects the \nhighways, which had then been more than thirty years \nunder discussion, took place about the year 1764, and \nJohn Adams was instrumental in bringing it about. \nTwo years before he had settled the vexed question of \nthe town commons, and now he turned his attention \nto the town roads. He long afterwards recounted his \nexperience in this connection, saying that in March, \n1761, being then a young lawyer in Braintree, he had \nheard himself suddenly nominated in town-meeting \nas survej^or of highwaj^s. At first he was very indig- \nnant, remarking that \" they might as well have chosen \nany boy in school ; \" but, after thinking tbe matter \nover, he concluded that it was best for him to accept \nthe situation quietly, and give the town at least an en- \nergetic administration of the ofiice. \n\n\" Accordingly, I went to ploughing and ditching and \nblowing rocks upon Penn's Hill, and building an entire new \nbridge of stone below Dr. Miller's and above Mr. Wibird's. \nThe best workmen in town were employed in laying the \nfoundation and placing the bridge, but the next spring \nbrought down a flood that threw my bridge all into ruins. \nThe materials remained, and were afterwards relaid in a \n\n\n676 THE HIGHWAYS. \n\nmore durable manner ; and the blame fell upon the work- \nmen, not upon me, for all agreed that I had executed my \noffice with impartiality, diligence, and s^jirit.\" \n\nYet this not unusual outcome of amateur, though \nofficial, zeal seems to have set the Braintree road sur- \nveyor reflecting, for he goes on to say : — \n\n\" There had been a controversy in town for many years \nconcerning the mode of repairing the roads. A party had \nlong struggled to obtain a vote that the highways should be \nrepaired by a tax, but never had been able to carry their \npoint. The roads were very bad and much neglected, and \nI thought a tax a more equitable method and more likely \nto be effectual, and, therefore, joined this party in a public \nspeech, carried a vote by a large majority, and was appointed \nto prepare a by-law, to be enacted at the next meeting. \nUpon inquiry I found that Roxbury and, after them, Wey- \nmouth had adopted this course. I procured a copy of their \nlaw, and prepared a plan for Braintree, as nearly as pos- \nsible conformable to their model, reported it to the town, \nand it was adopted by a great majority. Under this law \nthe roads have been repaired to this day, and the efEects of \nit are visible to every eye.\" \n\nThe use made of New England country town roads \nthroughout the colonial period, down even to the year \n1830, was comparatively light. There was no inter- \nnal commerce worthy of the name, and the pleasure \ntravel amounted to nothing. Travellers journeyed \nchiefly on horseback. In the winter-time, when the \nground was hard with frost or covered with snow, \nclumsy carts and sleds, drawn mainly by oxen, were \nkept busy bringing loads of cordwood from the wood- \nlots, or carrying com, potatoes and other farm produce \nto market at Boston. Manure was hauled merely \nfrom the barn-yard to the neighboring field ; lumber \n\n\nTUTOR FLYNTS JOURNEY. 677 \n\nand material were carted only when some dwelling \nor out-building was to be raised. The stage-coach \nperiod was wholly of the present century. Though \nthe first regular line of these coaches, that from Bos- \nton to Providence, was established in 1767, making \npart of the inside, or land and water route to New \nYork, yet, strange as it now seems, it was more than \none hundred and seventy years after the settlement \nbefore even a baggage wagon, adapted also to the \ncarriage of passengers, was run between Boston and \nBraintree or Quincy, so trifling was the intercourse \nand traffic between the two places : and, indeed, it \nwas not until 1840, two full centuries after the incor- \nporation of the original town, that the stage-coach \nmovement along the ancient coast road began to tax \nits strength as a highway. \n\nConsequently, during the first two centuries of the \nsettlement, the country roads in Braintree and Quincy, \nhowever poorly made or kept in repair, were quite \nequal to the light work exacted of them. Of what \nthat work was in the earlier and colonial days we get \nglimpses Jiere and there in such records as that of \nTutor Flynt's journey to Portsmouth in 1755, and \nJohn Adams' drive with his wife to Salem in 1766 to \nvisit their \"dear brother Cranch.\" There being then\" \nno stages at all in the colony, \" a single horse and \nchair without a top was the usual mode of conveyance. \nA covered chair, called a calash, was very seldom \nused.\" In the case of Tutor Flynt, he and his com- \npanion, leaving Cambridge after breakfast, \" oated \" \nand had \" a nip of milk punch \" at Ljmn, and then \ntowards sunset \" reached the dwelling of the Rev. Mr.* \nJewett, of Rowley, and Mr. Flynt acquainted him he \nmeant to tarry there that night.\" They reached Ports- \n\n\n078 THE HiaiiWAYS. \n\nmouth the following evening. John Adams, some ten \nyears later, leaving Braintree in the morning, dined \nin Boston and passed the night at Medford, getting to \nSalem at noon the following day. A few years later, \nwhile riding the circuit, he described how he \n\" Overtook Judge Cusliiiig in his old curricle and two lean \nlioises, and Dick, his negro, at his riglit hand, driving the \ncurricle. This is the way of travelling in 1771, — a ji/dge \nof the circuits, a judge of the superior court, a judge of the \nKing's bench, common pleas, and exchequer for the Prov- \nince, travels with a pair of wretched old jades of horses in \na wTetched old dung-cart of a curricle, and a negro on the \nsame seat with him driving.\" \n\nAn eye-witness gave a somewhat similar description \nof Dr. Chauncey, pastor of the First Church in Bos- \nton, as he drove about the town making his parochial \nvisits at a period about fifteen years later : — \n\n\" In a heavy, yellow-bodied chaise, with long shafts, a \nblack boy perched on the horse's tail, the old divine was \nseated, in his dignified clerical costume, with three-cornered \nhat, gold cane and laced wrists, bowing gracefully to citizens \nas he passed. His grinning young driver in the meanwhile \nexchanged his compliments with young acquaintances of his \nown color by touching tliem up with his long whip from his \nsafe perch.\" \n\nThis was after the Revolution, but the simple ways \nof the fathers were still in vogue. In November, \n1700, the widow of Colonel Edmund Quincy died. \nJudge Sewall went out to Braintree to her funeral \nfrom the old Quincy house, and he describes 1 ow, \n\" because of the Porrige of snow, the Bearers rid to \n^he Grave, alighting a little before they came there. \nMourners, Cons. Edward and his Sister rid first ; then \nMrs. Anna Quincy, widow, behind Mr. Allen; and \n\n\nJUDGE SEWALUS RIDE. 679 \n\nCousin Ruth Hunt behind her Husband.\" A few \nyears later yet, in 1712, Judge Sewall further tells of \na journey he made from Plymouth, where he had been \nholding court, to Boston. It was early in March : — \n\n•\" Rained hard quickly after setting out ; went by Matta- \nkeese Meeting-house, and forded over the North River. \nMy Horse stumbled in the considerable body of water, but \nI made a shift, by God's Help, to set him, and he recovered \nand carried me out. Rained very hard, that went into a \nBarn awhile. Baited at Bairsto's. Dined at Cushing's. \nDryed my coat and hat at both places. By that time got \nto Braintry, the day and I were in a manner spent, and I \nturned in to Cousin Quinsey. . . . Lodged in the chamber \nnext the Brooke.\" \n\n\nCHAPTER V. \n\nDWELLINGS AND MODES OF LIFE. \n\nWhen Judge Sewall thus turned in at its gate on \nthat rainy March day, the portion of the Quincy \nhouse in which was \" the chamber next the Brooke \" \nwas comparatively new ; ^ for it had, after a fashion \nnot uncommon then, been built on to the older dwell- \ning, which, afterwards relegated to menial uses, had \nalready stood there for nearly seventy years. The en- \ntire building still remains, a noticeable specimen of \nthe best domestic architecture of colonial times. Its \ncomparatively broad hall in the centre of the house ; \nthe easy, winding staircase with carved balustrade ; \nthe low-studded but fairly large rooms opening to \nthe south and west ; the broken line of the floors and \nceilings which tell of enlargement at different times ; \nthe little ship-like lockers and other like attempts to \neconomize space while space is everywhere wasted, — \nall these things bespeak the dwelling-place of gentry. \nTime has only hardened into something very like iron \nthe solid timbers of hewn oak still bearing upon them \nthe marks of the axe ; and one room yet has on its \nwalls the queer, old Chinese paper which tradition \nsays was hung there in 1775 in honor of Dorothy \nQuincy's approaching marriage to John Hancock ; \nthough the ceremony, owing to political exigencies, \n\n1 1706, June, \" 14 We raised Mr Quinzeys house.\" Marshall's \nDiary, Proc. Mass. Hist. Soc. Series 11. i. 138. \n\n\nTHE MANSION. 681 \n\nwas after all performed, not in the house of the bride's \nfather in Braintree, but at Fairfield, in Connecticut.^ \n\nNor in the last century was the Edmund Quincy \nhouse the only specimen of this order of dwelling in \nBraintree North Precinct. Colonel John Quincy oc- \ncupied another such house at Mount Wollaston, which \nhe had built in 1716, and which stood there, though \nreduced to baser uses, until the year 1852. Here \nduring his long public life he often entertained friends \nand acquaintances coming by boat across the bay \nfrom Boston to visit him, and there are traditions of \nstrawberry parties held on the Half -Moon Island be- \nfore the upland top of that now submerged gravel \nridge had been wholly washed away. The house of \nLeonard Yassall, built by him in 1731 and later \nowned by his son-in-law, was bought by John Adams \nin 1787. Another of these residences, it was the sum- \nmer resort of a West India planter, and still con- \ntains one room panelled from floor to ceiling in solid \nSt. Domingo mahogany. Originally a small dwelling, \nconstructed on a plan not unusual in the tropics, with \nkitchen and all domestic arrangements behind the \nhouse and in a separate building, in itself it contained \nonly parlors and sleeping-rooms ; but gradually it was \nadded to, until the original house is now lost in the \nwide front and deep gabled wings of the later struc- \nture. In this house John Adams died. \n\nThese houses and houses like these were the homes \nin Braintree of the landed gentry, during the long \ntime in which there was in the community little prop- \nerty other than land. They were the New England \nmanor houses. Close to them stood the stable, the \nbarn, the corn and wood and cart sheds, the cider-mill \n\n1 Proc. Mass. Hist. Soc. Series II. vi. 396. \n\n\n682 DWELLINGS AND MODES OF LIFE. \n\nand all the other buildings belonging to the broad- \nacred farm, which lay behind and about them. Nor \nwere those farms merely the costly luxury of gentle- \nman farmers. On the contrary, the owner of the \nhouse drew from the adjacent land his chief support. \nHe lived upon its produce ; for the more prolific soil \nof the West had not then beggared New England \naofriculture. From wood-lot to orchard the fruits of \neach acre were carefully gathered, and what was not \nsold was used in rude plenty at home. Yet the \nprimitive simplicity of those early homes can now \nhardly be realized. They had none of the modern \nappliances of luxury, and scarcely those now accounted \nessential to proper cleanliness or even decency. As \ndwelling-places during the less inclement seasons of \nthe year, the houses were well enough, though exist- \nence within them was simple and monotonous to the \nlast degree ; but in winter there was little comfort to \nbe had. John Adams towards the end of his life used \nto wish that he could go to sleep in the autumn like a \ndormouse, and not wake until spring. The cold of \nthe sitting-rooms was tempered by huge wood fires, \nwhich roasted one half the person while the other half \nwas exposed to chilling drafts. The women sat at \ntable in shawls, and the men in overcoats. Writing \non the \"Lord's Day, January 15*^ 1716,\" Judge \nSewall notes, \" An Extraordinary Cold Storm of \nWind and Snow. . . . Bread was frozen at the Lord's \nTable: . . . Though twas so Cold, yet John Tuck- \nerman was baptized. At six o'clock my ink freezes \nso that I can hardly write by a good fire in my \nWive's Chamber. Yet was very Comfortable at Meet- \ning.\" And to the same effect, four years later, Cotton \nMather says, \" 'Tis dreadful cold, my ink glass in my \n\n\nTHE FARM-HOUSE. 683 \n\nstandish is froze and splitt in my very stove. My ink \nin my pen suffers a congelation.\" Such was the in- \ndoor temperature at times in rooms artificially heated ; \nwhile, as for the unventilated bedrooms, water was not \nleft in them overnight for the simple reason that in \nthe morning it might not improbably be found solid \nice ; and entries, which could not be heated, had the \ntemperature of modern refrigerators. \n\nSuch were what might be called the mansions of \nthe colonial gentry ; and such in Braintree they con- \ntinued to be until long after 1830 when the gradual \nintroduction of coal and new appliances for heat- \ning revolutionized modes of life. The dwelling of \nthe farmer was of another class. It was the sim- \nplest form of domestic architecture. A huge stack of \nbrick chimneys was the central idea, as well as fact, \nin it, and about this the house was built. It was one \nroom only in depth, and two stories in height. The \nfront door opened on a narrow space, with rooms on \neither side, while directly behind the door, and some \nfour or five feet away, were the crooked stairs, sup- \nported on the chimney. Behind this outer shell was a \nlean-to, or leanter as it was pronounced and is some- \ntimes found spelled, the sloping roof of which, be- \nginning at the rear eaves of the house, descended to \nwithin a few feet of the ground. In this were the \nkitchen and wash-room ; and here, on aU ordinary \noccasions, the family took their meals and the house- \nhold work was done. Of the front rooms, one was \nthe ordinary sitting-room, and the other, the best par- \nlor, formal, unventilated and uncomfortable, was en- \ntered only upon the Sabbath or great occasions, such \nas a funeral or a wedding or a christening. About \nthese houses, which as a rule stood facing towards \n\n\n684 DWELLINGS AND MODES OF LIFE. \n\nthe south and as near as might be to the road, though \nrarely square with it, were the out-houses, sheds and \nbarns necessary for carrying on farm or household \nwork. \n\nThe wearing apparel and household furniture, as \nrevealed through the Braintree inventories, speak also \nof a modest and almost Spartan simplicity. There \nseem to have been a few beds, — possibly one of \nfeathers, but generally of wool or of corn-husks, — \nsome bolsters, blankets and coverlids; but, except in \nthe cases of the more wealthy, there is no mention \nof bed linen. Col. Edmund Quincy's two carpets \nwere appraised at one pound. There was one table, \nand possibly two ; a few chairs, perhaps half a dozen, \nand, in the case of the rich, a scattering of cushions \nand covers to chairs, but stools were chiefly in use. \nKnives and forks are not mentioned in the probate in- \nventories until a comparatively recent time, but pew- \nter and earthenware is generally valued at from a few \nshillings to as many pounds. The kitchen utensils \nseem to have consisted of a brass and iron pot or two, \nand some pans. There would be a Bible in the house, \nand possibly a few other books ; an old musket and \nsword ; a looking-glass now and then. The dress was \nof homespun, and worn and reworn until there was \nnothing left of it. In the division of personal effects, \n\" Benjamin Had a pair of Shoes,\" and \" David Had \na Beaver Hat,\" while \" I Had one wosted Cap and a \npair of old Shoues.\" A hat would thus descend from \nfather to son, and for fifty years make its regular ap- \npearance at meeting. The wearing apparel of a whole \nfamily would be stored away for generations, fashions \nnever changing ; and accordingly it is a noticeable \nfact that wearing apparel constitutes the first and \n\n\nFOOD AND DRINK. 685 \n\ngenerally one of the largest items of the inventories, \nwhile in the wills, especially of the female heads of \nlarge familes, every article of raiment, especially fin- \nery, was devised to individuals with long considered \nimpartiality. \n\nThe food and drink of dwellers in Braintree during \nthe first century or two of town life were as simple \nas their furniture. Indian-corn meal was the great \nstandby ; and, even as late as the earlier years of the \npresent century, flour was bought by the pound, and \nused only in the houses of the gentry. As bread made \nwholly of meal soon became dry, rye was mixed with \nit ; and Governor Hutchinson told George III. in their \ninterview immediately after the arrival of the former \nin London, in July, 1774, that, from long use, the \npeople of Massachusetts had at that time learned to \nprefer the coarse bread made of rye and Indian-corn \nmeal mixed to flour or wheaten bread, \" and some of \nour country people prefer a bushel of Rye to a bushel \nof Wheat, if the price should be the same.\" ^ Fresh \nmeat was rarely seen, but the well-to-do in the autumn \nof each year were in the custom of salting down a hog \nor a quarter of beef, bits of which later on were boiled \nin the Indian porridge. During a period of fourteen \nyears, including the last years of the seventeenth cen- \ntury and the earliest years of the eighteenth, a man \nnamed John Marshall, who lived in Braintree, kept \na diary, in which he jotted down homely items which \nwere to him of interest. This diary has been pre- \nserved, and the material portions of it published.^ In \nit Marshall notes that in January, 1704, a hog weigh- \n\n1 Hutchinson's Diary, i. 171. \n\n2 A portion of it is in the appendix to Lunt's Two Discourses, 108-11, \nand another portion in Proc. Mass. Hist. Soc. Series 11 i- 148-64. \n\n\n686 DWELLINGS AND MODES OF LIFE. \n\ning two hundred and sixty pounds cost him fifty shil- \nlings, or about $8.33, and a quarter of beef, seventy- \nfour pounds, cost him twelve shillings, or $2 ; and he \nat the same time mentions that provisions were then \n\" more plenty and cheap than is frequently known, \nbeef for six farthings per pound, pork at twopence \nthe most, the best two and a half pence, Indian [meal] \ntwo shillings per bushel, mault barlay at two shil- \nlings.\" Naturally the constant use of salted meat \ncreated thirst ; and this thirst, the necessary conse- \nquence of what it is the custom to call a simple mode \nof life, led to that intemperance which was the bane \nof New England. The use of tea and coffee as bever- \nages was not general until about the middle of the \nlast century, and prior to that time the people drank \nwater, milk, beer, cider and rum. The excessive use \nof the last, and its demoralizing consequences, it will \nbe necessary to speak of presently. Meanwhile it \nwill be noticed that Marshall in his short price-list \nmentions \" mault barlay \" as the staple next in impor- \ntance to corn-meal. A brewery was one of the earliest \nBraintree institutions, second only to the mill. The \nfirst was established by Henry Adams, the town clerk, \nshortly after 1640, and was afterwards carried on by \nhis son. Later, cider seems to have supplanted beer \nas the every-day and all-day beverage, and the quan- \ntity of it drunk by all classes down to a late period \nin this century was almost incredible. In the cellars \nof the more well-to-do houses a barrel of cider was \nalways on tap, and pitchers of it were brought up \nat every meal, and in the morning and evening. To \nthe end of his life a large tankard of hard cider was \nJohn Adams' morning draught before breakfast ; and \nin sending directions from Philadelphia to her agent \n\n\nSHOPS AND VOCATIONS. 687 \n\nat Quincy, in 1799, Mrs. Adams takes care to mention \nthat \" the President hopes you will not omit to have \neight or nine barrels of good late-made cider put up \nin the cellar for his own particular use.\" \n\nThere were no shops, in the modern sense of the \nword, in Braintree or in Quincy prior to 1830. At \nthe village store the more usual and necessary dry and \nWest India goods, as the signs read, from a paper of \npins to a glass of New England rum, could be obtained. \nFor everything else people had to go to Boston, which \nthey did on foot, on horseback, in chairs or carts, and \nby water. Marshall in his diary speaks of going to \nBoston as no unusual occurrence. In October, 1705, \nhis father died ; in September, 1708, he lost an infant \nson ; and in October, 1710, his mother. In each case \nhe speaks of going to Boston the next day \" to get \nthings for the funeral.\" He was himself a mason and \nplasterer, but like most men of his time he seems to \nhave turned his hand to anything by which he could \nearn a few shillings, for he was a farmer, a carpenter, \na tithingman, a coroner, and town constable ; and, act- \ning probably in the latter capacity, he notes that on \nApril 3, 1700, he \" went to Boston with a Eoge that \nran away from me.\" The boot-maker, the cobbler, \nthe mason and the carpenter were all recognized me- \nchanics, and earned a living by their trades. The \nusual wages of skilled laborers were from sixty-five \ncents to a dollar a day, those of ordinary, unskilled \nlaborers two shillings or thirty-three cents; and, fluc- \ntuations of currency apart, these wages seem to have \ngenerally ruled until the end of the eighteenth cen- \ntury. The busiest man in the community was the \nblacksmith, for not only were all the horses and oxen \nshod at his forge, but he was the general wheelwright, \n\n\n688 DWELLINGS AND MODES OF LIFE. \n\nand maker and repairer of farm tools. Everything \nmade of iron soon or late passed through his hands, \nand his shop, standing on the main street, was a cen- \ntral point in the life and movement of the town. For \nthe rest, the peddler and the fish man were the chief \npurveyors both of news and of merchandise, and their \nhorns were regularly heard on Braintree roads during \nthe first two centuries of town life. \n\n\nCHAPTER VI. \n\nPOPULATION AND WEALTH. \n\nAt the time the original Braintree church was gath- \nered, the town numbered about eighty families, repre- \nsenting a population of not far from five hundred souls, \nliving mainly within the limits of what afterwards \nbecame the North Precinct. In 1640 the English \nemigration to New England had already ceased, and \nfor many years thereafter the coming of new families \ninto Braintree was systematically discouraged. In \n1682 the population of the town was limited to \" about \nninety or a hundred families at the most.\" Assuming \nthat there were 143 families in the entire town in \n1707, and the enumeration then made was undoubt- \nedly thorough,^ during the next half century the \npopulation seems to have increased less than three- \nfold, for, in the census of 1765, Braintree was returned \nas containing 357 families. Franklin, as the result of \ncareful computations, reached the conclusion that the \ninhabitants of America, from natural increase, doubled \ntheir numbers during this period in twenty-five years : \nand Governor Hutchinson, than whom no one was \nbetter qualified to form an opinion on such a point, \nthought the estimate not excessive ; though, he said, \nthe increase was greater in the southern than in the \nnorthern colonies. ^ The New England family was \nunquestionably larger then than now, and, according \n\n1 Pattee, Old Braintree, 208. '^ Hutchinson, Diary, i. 170. \n\n\n690 POPULATION AND WEALTH. \n\nto the census cf 1765, it averaged iu Braintree almost \nexactly seven persons. If the same average held good \nfor the earlier period, the population of Braintree did \nnot fall much short of 700 in 1683, and had increased \nto 1,000 in 1707. During the next fifty-eight years it \ngrew to 2,433, a rate of increase only half of that com- \nputed as natural by Franklin : yet the figures do not \nindicate anything larger, and the data are fairly trust- \nworthy. The conclusion would seem to be that, judg- \ning by the experience of Braintree, the population of \nNew England, with almost no immigration, increased \nduring the century which preceded the revolutionary \ntroubles at the rate of about fifty per cent, in each \ntwenty-five years. \n\nBetween 1765 and 1790, — twenty-five years, — the \nincrease was abnormally small, about fourteen per \ncent. ; but during the next fifty years it was 220 per \ncent., for the period of rapid modern growth had then \nset in. Yet, in the one hundred and ninety years \nwhich elapsed between the incorporation of the town \nand the year 1830, the number of persons living within \nthe limits of the original North Precinct of Braintree \nincreased only fivefold ; w^hile, during the next sixty \nyears, it was destined to multiply sevenfold. Making \nallowance for a positive decrease of population during \nthe period of revolutionary troubles, the population of \nthe North Precinct apparently increased in the eigh- \nteenth century from 500 in 1707, to 1,081 in 1800, \nor about twofold; during 1;he next ninety years it in- \ncreased from 1,081 to 16,711, or over fifteen fold. In \nother words, in the matter of population and in the \ncase of Braintree, the development of the eighteenth \ncentury was to the nineteenth positively as 580 is to \n15,630, and relatively as two is to fifteen. \n\n\n*' FIGURES CANNOT LIE!\" 691 \n\nThere are few data upon which to base an estimate \nof the accumulated wealth of any of the New England \ntowns before the beginning of the present century ; or, \nin fact, during it. It is not difficult to take the figures \nof the census and, dividing the aggregate of returned \nwealth by the total of the population enumerated, to \nassert that the accumulated wealth of a community \namounts to so many hundred dollars per head ; but \nthe result is merely one more statistical falsehood. \nThe valuations thus used were made for purposes of \ntaxation only ; and, as is perfectly well known, a sworn \nprobate appraisal would show very different results. \nSuch is the case now ; and it was much more so in the \nlast century, for the appraisals as then made were \nmerely nominal. For instance when, in 1792, Quincy \nwas set off from Braintree and became an independent \ntown, the whole amount of real estate in it was ap- \npraised by the assessors at X12 7s. 4d., and the per- \nsonal property of the inhabitants at X3 7s. 8d.,^ or a \ntotal of f 52.77 as the assessed valuation of a town re- \nturning one hundred and ninety-two poll-tax payers \nwith a poi3ulation of not less than 2,000 souls. The as- \nsessors of those days were citizens of the town, and as \nsuch not devoid of worldly wisdom. They probably \nrealized the fact tiiat the newly incorporated Quincy \nwould in due time be called upon to pay a state and \na county tax, as well as to provide for its own needs ; \nand, as those taxes were apportioned on assessors' re- \nturns, they saw no advantage likely to result from a \nvaluation unduly inflated. They seem to have acted \naccordingly. The first name on the list of resident \nproperty holders is '' Hon. John Adams.\" Mr. Ad- \nams was then a man of fifty-seven, and filling the office \n^ Pattee, Old Braintree and Quincy, 622. \n\n\n692 POPULATION AND WEALTH. \n\nof Vice-President of the United States. He owned \nin Braintree three houses situated on two independent \nfarms, both well supplied with farm buildings and \nimplements. Among the larger tax-payers of the \ntown he was the fourth, his wife's uncle, Norton \nQuincy, being the first, and as such called upon fcr \na tax of £12 2s. lid., or $40.50. John Adams' real \nestate was valued by the assessors for purposes of \ntaxation at 9s. 6d., or $1.60, and his personal property \nat 3d., or about four cents ; a total estate of $1.64. \nYet upon this estate he was called upon to pay a tax \nof $28.50, for the total town levy of 1792 was £350, \nthough the valuation was but £15 17s. Of the X350 \nthe sum of <£72 was derived from one hundred and \nninety-two polls taxed 7s. 6d. each ; £220 2s. lOd. from \nreal estate valued at £12 9s. 4d. ; and £58 17s. 2d. \nfrom personal property appraised at £3 7s. 8d. \n\nSuch figures read like a burlesque ; but tbey have \ntheir use as illustrating the value of the statistics upon \nwhich many of the conclusions of historical writers \nare based. Working from data of this sort, it is mani- \nfestly impossible to reach results of any value, either \npositively as respects the past, or comparatively as re- \nspects the past and the present. But, while this is \nthe case as respects accumulation and the aggregate \nof wealth, it is not the case with the scale on which \nexpenditure is conducted : and, dealing with the New \nEngland towns, it is possible to make a comparison of \nperiods which will be not altogether deceptive by tak- \ning as data the annual town levies and certain salaries \npaid through a long series of years ; and such a com- \nparison may have a curious interest as well as some \nstatistical value. \n\nIn the case of Braintree, for instance, the amount \n\n\n''A DECENT SUPPORTS 693 \n\npaid to the two ministers in 1657 was XllO, and be- \nsides this, and the county tax, there were probably \nother small sums disbursed of which no record re- \nmains. At the beginning- of the next century the \nsalary of Mr. Fiske was £90 a year. In 1798, when \nthe century was drawing to its close, the question of \na suitable salary for a colleague to Mr. Wibird was \nmuch discussed. A committee gave it \" as their most \nmature judgment \" that it would be best for the town \nto pay its minister annually such a sum \" as will en- \nable him to maintain himself and family comfortably \nand with such decency as will do honor to the society \nthat supports them.\" And the opinion is then ex- \npressed that the sum of §500 will afford a minister \nand his family \" a decent support.\" Accordingly, in \n1799, Mr. Whitney was settled in the town on a salary \nof $550. As respects the total amount levied through \ntaxation for both town and parish purposes, it may be \nsaid, approximately, that the North Precinct levy was \nin 1656 not far from £100, and, more than a century \nlater, in 1770, the expenses of both town and parish \nhad not increased to over X350. Thirty years after- \nwards, in 1800, the entire amount raised for town and \nparish purposes was |3,000. In 1810 it was 13,200, \nand in 1820 it had increased to $4,000. These figures \nreveal most strikingly the stability and evenness of \nthe scale of expense through the long period covered \nby them. Between 1640 and 1820 the minister's sal- \nary increased from $300 to 1750, and the total town \nand parish levy from 1350 to 14,000. Ten years \nlater, in 1830, the total town levy, then exclusive of \nany salaries paid to the clergy, was 14,556.24 ; in \n1890 it was $196,717.87. The increase of salary \nthrough the first period of one hundred and eighty \n\n\n694 POPULATION AND WEALTH, \n\nyears was less than threefold, and that of town levy \nless than twelvefold ; while in the second period of \nsixty years, the increase of levy was over forty-three \nfold. \n\nThat, except during periods of war, the eighteenth \ncentury Braintree community increased its belongings \ndoes not need to be said. Any community, every \navailable member of which is brought up to do some- \nthing, while its more active members work all day \nlong every day in the week except Sunday, wasting \nnothing, utilizing everything, schooled from infancy \nin the severest economy and eternally striving to bet- \nter its condition, — any community such as this, dwell- \ning in a region not actually icebound or a desert, must \naccumulate from generation to generation. So the \nBraintree people accumulated. As each generation \npassed away it left more acres under cultivation, more \nhouses, barns and farm-buildings, more furniture and \nhousehold comforts, more cattle, tools and appliances. \nYet this was all. Prior to 1830, except clothes and \nhousehold efPects, and little hoards of silver money, \nthere was no personal property. Whatever the peo- \nple had was tangible and in sight. There were no \nbonds or stocks locked away in safes. A few persons, \n— and they were very few, — having ready money \namassed in trade, may, after 1800, have held some \nbank or turnpike shares ; but the people of country \ntowns had even then scarcely as yet begun to be edu- \ncated in this respect, and their whole idea of property \nwas the ownership of land and buildings. Money was \nmade in trade ; and the moneyed man was he who, \nhaving amassed some ready cash, put it into goods, or \nloaned it to others on good security, usually bond and \nmortgage. \n\n\nSLOW A CCUMULA TION. 695 \n\nThus tlie whole accumulation of the hundred and \nninety years from 1640 to 1830 in a community like \nthat of Brain tree and Quincy was at home and on the \nsurface. It showed for all it was worth. Accord- \ningly, when John Adams returned to Braintree in \n1788, after a ten years' absence in Europe, he spoke \nof the increase of population as '' wonderful,\" and was \namazed at the plenty and cheapness of provisions ; but \n\" the scarcity of money,\" he wrote, \" is certainly very \ngreat.\" And, again, John Quincy Adams, coming \nback to Quincy to his father's funeral in 1826, after \nyears of absence, spoke with deep feeling of the \nchanges he noticed as he sat in his father's place in \nthe old meeting-house, but he added \" it was a com- \nforting reflection that the new race of men and women \nhad the external marks of a condition much improved \nupon that of the former age.\" Yet it may well admit \nof question whether the entire accumulation of that \nvillage community in those two centuries, lacking only \nten years, amounted to over a million and a half of \ndollars. Allowing for the goods and money which the \noriginal settlers brought over with them, this estimate \nsupposes an average annual accumulation in the case \nof Braintree of only some f 8,000 a year. For an in- \ndustrious, saving community of from 500 to 2,000 \nsouls this seems small ; and yet it is difficult to see \nhow in the aggregate it could have been larger. In \n1830 there were not over four hundred families in \nthe town. The official valuation of their wealth ex- \nceeded 1800,000. For reasons which have already \nbeen given, this valuation is entitled to no weight as \nrespects accuracy ; but, assuming that a fair valuation \nwould have shown an aggregate of twice that sum, or \n$1,600,000, — approximately the amount just esti- \n\n\n696 POPULATION AND WEALTH. \n\nmated as the entire aecuinulation of the town, — each \nfamily would then have had, ou the average, property \nof some sort worth #4,000. In view of the fact that \nabsolutely no one in Quincy was in 1830 more than \nwell-to-do, and many families had nothing, living from \nhand to mouth, it does not seem possible that this \naverage could have been exceeded. \n\nNor, in the case of a Massachusetts coast-town like \nBraintree, are the sources of accumulated wealth \nduring the colonial period at once apparent; for there \ndo not seem in those towns to have been any recog- \nnized and established branches of trade or manufac- \nture. The people were landowners and laborers, the \nlatter class including, of course, all skilled workmen \nand mechanics ; and they in greatest degree lived on \nthemselves and each other. Almost nothing, from a \nmodern point of view, seemed to come in from with- \nout, or to go out from within. Works, in which bog- \nore was made into iron, were established at an early \nday in Weymouth, and also in West Quincy; but they \ndid not prosper: shipbuilding, also, was carried on, \nthough to a limited extent, from a period before the \nclose of the seventeenth century. But industries of \nthis character amounted to little in the aggregate ; \nand, while the people had almost nothing to sell, they \nhad to buy something in the way of clothes, furniture, \nutensils and the few articles of luxury they used. The \nquestion naturally arises, therefore, — From whence \ndid they derive even the small amount of ready money \nrequisite for these purchases ? \n\nIt must in the first place always be borne in mind \nthat these purchases were of the smallest possible de- \nscription. Almost every house was in itself a factory, \nin which lap-stone and spinning wheel were in use; \n\n\nTHE NA VIGA TION A CTS. 697 \n\nand, what was not produced at home, people, in so far \nas possible, did without. The life of the period was \nhard and self-denying. But, in the case of Braintree, \nas of all the other New England towns east of Narra- \ngansett Bay and north of Cape Cod, more careful in- \nvestigation uniformly reveals the fact that the fisheries \nwere the basis of colonial commerce, and consequently \nthe beginning of wealth. Though communities might \nnot themselves be actively engaged in the fisheries, \nthey yet made their exchanges through them, and got \nsuch accumulation as they had from them. The Navi- \ngation Acts of Great Britain were monuments of leg- \nislative ignorance intended to secure English com- \nmerce to English shipping ; but in them the American \ncolonies were treated as part of the British empire and \nfared accordingly. The way in which those particular \ntrade restrictions worked is a matter now little under- \nstood and upon which the historian, rarely having him- \nself been engaged in trade, fails as a rule to throw \nclear light: but, so far as New England was con- \ncerned, the better opinion is that the much denounced \nNavigation Acts, loosely administered or wholly evaded \nthrough the greater part of the colonial period, in \npoint of fact stimulated rather than depressed com- \nmerce.^ Illicit trade was free trade ; and on free \ntrade New England throve. Exports were practically \nunhampered, and those to the West Indies were large. \nVessels adapted to the business were built at every \nconvenient point along the coast, and these vessels, \nladen mainly with fish, and after fish with surplus \nfarm produce, pipe-staves, lumber and live-stock, went \nout from the shipping-ports, chief among which was \n\n^ Channing, The Navigation Laws, Proc. Am, Antiquarian Society^ \nOctober, 1889. \n\n\n698 POPULATION AND WEALTH. \n\nBoston, and, when not sold in England, as they often \nwere, came back presently loaded with sugar, molasses, \ncotton, indigo, and bringing also some bags of coined \nSi3anish silver. There was, moreover, a prosperous \ntrade with Spain, Portugal and the Canaries, — the \nCatholic fast-day countries, — in the course of which \nfish was exchanged for wine and specie ; and this \nalso was a source of steady gain.^ And thus a slow, \nsteady accretion went on ; Boston, with its foreign \ncommerce based on fish, lumber, farm products, such \nas corn and live-stock, and rude manufactured arti- \ncles like pipe-staves, being the mart to which every- \nthing the neighboring towns had to sell, was brought \nby wagon, ox-team or packet ; while from Boston was \ncarried back to the neighboring towns the wet and \ndry goods, the finer manufactured articles of necessity \nor luxury, and finally the small balance of coin which \nrepresented the hard-earned and carefully hoarded \nexcess in value of what was sold over what was \nbought. Except in the case of a few families, there- \nfore, composing the gentry, who, like the Quincys, \nwere engaged in foreign trade, or, like the Vassalls, \nwere West India planters, the entire accumulation of \nBraintree until the end of the last century was repre- \nsented in the dwellings of those inhabiting within its \nlimits, and in their farms, — more and better build- \nings, clothing, furniture and utensils ; larger and \nmore commodious barns, new acres under cultivation ; \nmore oxen, horses, cows, sheep and swine ; and, be- \nhind it all, the little but ever, though slowly, growing \nhoards of silver money. \n\n^ Weeden, Economic and Social History of New England, passim. \n\n\nCHAPTER VII. \n\nSOCIAL LIFE. \n\nWhile speaking of the Braintree community prior \nto 1792, and of the Quincy community between 1792 \nand 1830, constant reference has been made to the \nclass of landed gentry, whose presence influenced in a \nmarked degree the character and development of the \ntown. This class, it has been observed, was the legiti- \nmate offspring of the old English landowners ; and in \nearly Braintree there was one family more curiously \ntypical of it than could elsewhere be found in New \nEngland ; and, indeed, the record of the Quincy fam- \nily is probably unique even in the larger field of \nAmerican history. Dwelling at the close of two cen- \nturies and a half on the same land which the original \nancestor in this country bought of the Indian sachem \nwho ruled over the Massachusetts Fields when Stand- \nish first landed at Squantum, the Quincy s have in \nevery generation maintained the same high public \nlevel. Never perhaps rising to the topmost promi- \nnence, either official or intellectual, the family record \nhas yet in both respects been exceptionally uniform \nand sustained. That record is part of the history of \nthe town which took its name from one scion of the \nstock. \n\nAs their name implies, the Quincys were of Norman \nblood. The probability is that an ancestor came over \nwith William the Conqueror and fought at Hastings ; \n\n\n700 SOCIAL LIFE. \n\nand a century and a half later the signature of a \n\" Saer de Quincy \" was affixed to the great charter of \nKing John. When in the early years of the seven- \nteenth century the Puritan movement spread through \nEngland, Edmund Quincy and his wife, Judith, were \nliving on an estate which the husband had inherited \nfrom his father, another Edmund Quincy, at Achurch, \nnear Wigsthorpe, in Northamptonshire. Edmund \nQuincy, the son, was a Puritan ; and when another Ed- \nmund was born in 1627, the local record shows that \nthe child was \" baptized elsewhere and not in our \nParish Church.\" In 1633, being then in his thirty- \nsecond year, Edmund Quincy came to New England, \na companion of John Cotton, landing in Boston on the \n4th of September. He was almost immediately made a \nfreeman, and afterwards his name is not infrequently \nmet in the records of Boston. He died in 1637, \nshortly after the allotment \" at the Mount \" had been \nmade to him. He and Governor William Coddington \nwere of nearly the same age, and the grant of land to \nthe two lay undivided for two years after Quincy 's \ndeath. It may, therefore, be surmised that they were \npersonal friends, and not impossibly it was Edmund \nQuincy's premature death which alone, in the Anti- \nnomian frenzy, prevented his sharing Coddington's \ntroubles, and perhaps his exile. Though this Edmund \ndied young, he left his name to a son and the name of \nhis wife to a daughter. A descendant of the latter \nmarried into the Sewall family, and in her memory \nthe stormy, western cape of Narragansett Bay was \ncalled Point Judith. \n\nThe second Edmund Quincy, born in England in \n1627, unlike his father, lived to a full old age. He is \nthe '' Unckle Quinsey \" of Judge Sewall's diary, v/hose \n\n\n\" UNCKLE QUINSEYr 701 \n\ndeath is recorded on the 8th of January, 1698, as that \nof '' a true New England man, and one of our best \nFriends.\" It was the dead of winter. His funeral \ntook place four days later, — there having been frost \n\"one and near two feet thick\" encountered in digging \nhis grave, — and he was '' decently buried — three foot \ncompanies and one troop at his funeral.\" Tlie pall- \nbearers \"had Scarves,\" and Judge Sewall drove out \nfrom Boston to be present, picking up Madam Dudley \non the way, who \" seem'd to be glad of the Invitation \nand were mutually refreshed by our Company.\" It \nwas this Edmund Quiucy who built at Braintree the \nold colonial house still standing,^ and between the years \n1670 and 1692 he repeatedly represented the town in \nthe General Court. A magistrate and the lieutenant- \ncolonel of the Suffolk regiment, he reproduced the \ntype of the English country gentleman in New Eng- \nland ; and just as the former had gone up to the Long \nParliament ripe for rebellion against Charles I., and \nhalf a century later had joined William of Orange in \nthe overthrow of James II., so Edmund Quincy, when \nAndros was \" bound in chains and cords, and put in a \nmore secure place,\" became naturally one of that Com- \nmittee of Safety which carried on the government of \nthe province until the charter of William and Mary \nwas granted. \n\nThis Edmund Quincy left two sons, — Daniel, the \nchild of his first wife, Joanna Hoar, sister of the \npresident of the college, and Edmund, whose mother, \nElizabeth Gookin, was the widow of John Eliot, Jr. \nDaniel Quincy was the father of that John Quincy, of \nMount Wollaston, in whose honor the town of Quincy \nsubsequently received its name. Of him it will be \n\n1 Supra, 680. \n\n\n702 SOCIAL LIFE. \n\nproper, therefore, presently to speak at length. Ed- \nmund, his younger half-brother, inherited the father's \nhouse and farm, and married Dorothy Flynt, already \nreferred to as the common origin of that remarkable \nprogeny, in which statesmen, jurists, lawyers, orators, \npoets, story-tellers and philosophers seem to vie with \neach other in recognized eminence. More distin- \nguished than either his father or grandfather, the third \nEdmund Quincy passed nearly his whole life in the \npublic service. Graduating in 1699, in 1713-14 he \nrepresented Braintree in the General Court, and be- \ncame afterwards a member of the provincial Council. \nColonel of the Suffolk regiment, he was in 1718 made \none of the judges of the Superior Court, and in 1737, \nat the age of fifty-six, he was selected as the agent of \nthe province to represent it before the English govern- \nment in the matter of the disputed New Hampshire \nboundary. Reaching London in December, in the fol- \nlowing February he was a victim of prevention, for he \ndied from inoculated small-pox. He was buried in \nthe graveyard which holds the dust of Bunyan ; and \nthe General Court of Massachusetts caused a monu- \nment to be there erected to him as lasting evidence \nthat he was \"the delight of his own people, but of \nnone more than of the Senate, who, as a testimony of \ntheir love and gratitude, have ordered this epitaph to \nbe inscribed.\" \n\nJudge Edmund Quincy had two sons, Edmund and \nJosiah. A portion of the land at Braintree came into \nthe possession of elosiah, and it was he who perpetuated \nthe family, though the old mansion passed into other \nhands. A Boston merchant in his earlier life, this the \nfirst Josiah, so named after his grandfather. Parson \nJosiah Flynt of Dorchester, suddenly acquired what \n\n\nA '^SINGULAR ADVENTURE:' 703 \n\nwas for those days a handsome competence through \nthe happy audacity of the captain of a vessel belong- \ning to the firm of which Quincy was a member. One \nof his descendants has given a lively account ^ of this \n\" rather singular adventure,\" as he terms it, as a result \nof which, during King George's war, a large Spanish \nship, a part of the cargo of which was one hundred and \nsixty-one chests of silver and two of gold, was fright- \nened by mere bravado into surrendering to a Yankee \nmerchantman armed with fourteen iron guns and six \nof wood. The Spanish captain mistook his adversary \nfor an English sloop-of-war, nor did he discover his \nmistake until too late. \n\nWisely retiring from business in consequence of \nthis happy chance, the first Josiah Quincy passed his \nlater years at Braintree, dwelling for a time in a \nhouse which stood on the \" Hancock lot.\" This house \n■was burned in May, 1759. In it John Adams, when \na man of twenty-three, was wont to spend many even- \nings, and it was by mere chance he did not marry one \nof its daughters.^ The methods of passing the time \nthere may have partaken of the somewhat rude New \nEngland sociability of the period, or the young lawyer \nmay have been suffering from a passing attack of \nspleen ; but, after coming away from Colonel Quincy's \non one occasion, he wrote : — \" Playing cards the \nwhole evening. This is the wise and salutary amuse- \nment the young gentlemen take every evening in this \ntown. Playing cards, drinking punch and wine, \nsmoking tobacco, and swearing. ... I know not how \nany young fellow can study in this town.\" \n\nIn his turn Josiah Quincy was colonel of the Suf- \n\n1 Edmund Quincy, Life of Josiah Quincy, 3. \n\n2 John Adams, Works, ii. 70. \n\n\n704 SOCIAL LIFE. \n\nfolk regiment, and he was also through many years a \nwarm personal friend and correspondent of Dr. Frank- \nlin. A man of active, inquiring mind, his only ex- \nperience in public life was in 1755, the year of Brad- \ndock's defeat, when he served as a commissioner of \nthe province in arranging joint military operations \nwith the sister province of Pennsylvania. He left \nthree sons, the youngest of whom, named after him- \nself and known in history as Josiah Quincy, Jr., \nrose rapidly to distinction ; and, had he not died at \nthe early age of thirty-one, could hardly have failed \nto be one of the prominent political characters of the \nRevolution. With John Adams he defended Captain \nPreston after the so-called \" Boston Massacre ; \" and, \nin 1774, when scarcely thirty years of age, he was \nthe confidential agent in London of the patriot party. \nDying on shipboard, almost within sight of his native \nNew England coast, Josiah Quincy, Jr., left behind \nhim an infant son, whose long and honorable life, be- \nginning before the Revolution, outlasted the War of \nthe Rebellion. \n\nRecurring to the other seventeenth-century branch \nof the family, Daniel Quincy, the elder son of the \nsecond Edmund, was, on the maternal side, a grand- \nson of Joanna Hoar, the widow of Charles Hoar, who \nwas, during the reigns of the earlier Stuarts, for a \ntime sheriff of the city of Gloucester, in England. \nAbout 1640, after the death of her husband, Joanna \nHoar came to Massachusetts with her five children, \nand died in Braintree in December, 1661 ; where she \nsleeps in the old burying ground in a common grave \nwith her son, the third president of Harvard College, \nand Bridget, the widow of that son and daughter of \nJohn Lisle by his wife, known in English history \n\n\nJOANNA HOAR. 705 \n\nas the Lady Alice Lisle ; ^ whose tragic fate, made \nfamiliar through the page of Macaulay, furnishes one \nof the historic incidents deemed worthy to be im- \nmortalized by the artist's hand on the walls of the en- \ntrance to the chambers of Parliament. The threads \nof human destiny are apt to interlace in a way calcu- \nlated to excite surprise ; and it is interesting in the \nold burying ground of a New England town thus sud- \ndenly to come upon an inscription which tells him \nwho stops to decipher it that the daughter of her \nwhom Jeffreys caused to be put to death for succoring \nthe fugitives from Sedgmuir, there lies buried. \n\nBut Joanna Hoar may well herself be remembered \nas the common origin of an offspring at once numer- \nous and notable ; for, besides the family bearing her \nown name, than which none has developed more strik- \ningly or through longer periods the sterling character- \nistics and some of the peculiarities of New England \nmanhood, — besides this family, honorably perpetua- \nting her own and her husband's name, from her \nthrough one daughter, who married Henry Flint, is \ndescended the remarkable progeny already referred \nto ; while from another daughter, herself bearing the \nmother's name, came the elder branch of the Quincys, \nissuing in Abigail Adams, and her son, John Quincy. \nAmong Joanna Hoar's other descendants are numbered, \nalso, the family of Evarts, and the Baldwins and Terr3^s \nof Connecticut, including among their members the \nbrilliant advocate who defended Andrew Johnson and \nthe brave soldier whose name is associated with the \ngallant storming of Fort Fisher. Indeed, it may fairly \nbe questioned whether in the whole wide field of \nAmerican genealogy there is any strain of blood more \n1 VI. Mass. Hist. Soc Coll. v. 104, n. \n\n\n706 SOCIAL LIFE. \n\nfruitful of distinguished men than that which issued \nfrom the widow of the seventeenth century sheriff of \nGloucester, who himself never crossed the Atlantic. \n\nDaniel Quincy, the eldest of the two sons of the \nsecond Edmund, was the grandson of Sheriff Hoar \nthrough his daughter, who also bore her mother's \nname, Joanna. In due time, Daniel Quincy married \nAnna Shepard, the granddaughter of the Rev. Thomas \nShepard, of Cambridge. The marriage ceremony took \nplace on the 9th of November, 1682, and the follow- \ning account of what then occurred is found in the pages \nof Sewall : — \n\n\" Cousin Daniel Quinsey Marries Mrs. Anna Shepard \nBefore John Hull, esq. Sani'l Nowell, esq. and many Per- \nsons present, almost Captain Brattle's great Hall full ; Cap- \ntain B. and Mrs. Brattle there for two. Mr. Willard began \nwith prayer. Mr. Thomas Shepard concluded ; as he was \nPraying, Cousin Savage, Mother Hull, wife and self came \nin. A good space after, when had eaten Cake and drunk \nWine and Beer plentifully, we were called into the Hall \nagain to Sing. In Singing Time Mrs. Brattle goes out, \nbeing ill ; Most of the Company goe away, thinking it a \nqualm or some Fit ; But she grows worse, speaks not a \nword, and so dyes away in her chair, I holding her feet (for \nshe had slipt down). At length out of the Kitching we \ncarry the chair, and Her in it, into the Wedding Hall ; \nand after a while lay the Corps of the dead Aunt in the \nBride-Bed : So that now the strangeness and horror of the \nthing filled the (just now) joyous House with Ejulation : \nThe Bridegroom and Bride lye at Mr. Airs, son-in-law to the \ndeceased, going away like Persons put to flight in Battel.\" \n\nThere were two children born of this marriage, a \ndaughter, Ann, in 1685, and a son, John, in 1689. \nThe year following the birth of the son, Daniel Quincy \n\n\nCOL. JOHN QUINCr. 707 \n\ndied. He seems always to have lived in Boston, \nwhere he followed the trade of goldsmith, the banker \nof those days, and in Boston John Quincy was born ; \nbut circumstances seemed to draw the Quincys to- \nwards Braintree. When William Coddington left \nMassachusetts he gradually disposed of his property \nthere, and in 1639 the greater part of his allotment at \nMount Wollaston was purchased by William Tyng, a \nBoston merchant. Thomas Shepard married a daugh- \nter of this William Tyng, and the farm at Mount \nWollaston, in 1661, passed by inheritance into Mrs. \nShepard's hands. In 1677, five years before Anna \nShepard married Daniel Quincy, her father, Thomas \nShepard, died, but her mother, William Tyng's daugh- \nter and the owner of Mount Wollaston, lived until \nAugust, 1709. Mrs. Daniel Quincy, it has already \nbeen seen, married the Kev. Moses Fiske in 1701, and \ndied in July, 1708 ; accordingly Mrs. Shepard, surviv- \ning her daughter, left the farm at Mount Wollaston in \n1709 to her grandson, John Quincy, who had gradu- \nated from Harvard College one year before. \n\nComing into possession of the property at this early \nage, John Quincy, in 1715, married Elizabeth Norton, \ndaughter of the Rev. John Norton, third pastor of \nthe Hingham church, and on Tuesday, October 4th, \nof that year. Judge Sewall records that he gave him \na *' Psalm-book covered with Turky-Leather for his \nMistress.\" At about this time, being already major \nof the Suffolk regiment, John Quincy built his house \nat Mount Wollaston, and went there to live. Two \nyears later, in 1717, he was first sent to represent \nBraintree in the General Court, and he continued to \nrepresent it at intervals through forty years. From \n1719 to 1741 his service was consecutive, and from \n\n\n708 SOCIAL LIFE. \n\n1729 to 1739 he was Speaker of the House. Paul \nDudley was then chosen to the place, but Governor \nShirley negatived him, and John Quincy was rechosen. \nIn 1742 he became a member of the Council, and again \nin 1716, continuing in it until 1754, after which he \nagain became a delegate for three years. He was now \nsixty-eight years old, and seems to have retired from \nactive life to pass the remainder of his days at Mount \nWollaston. We there get a glimpse of him through \nthe memoranda of John Adams, who, on Christmas- \nday, 1765, says he \" drank tea at grandfather Quincy's. \nThe old gentleman inquisitive about the hearing be- \nfore the Governor and Council ; about the Governor's \nand Secretary's looks and behavior, and about the \nfinal determination of the Board. The old lady as \nmerry and chatty as ever, with her stories out of the \nnewspapers.\" The hearing here referred to which ex- \ncited the old councillor's interest was that before Gov- \nernor Bernard on the memorial of the town of Boston, \nat the time of the Stamp Act riots, that the courts of \nlaw should be opened. \n\nFor a number of years John Quincy was colonel of \nthe Suffolk regiment, but in 1742 he lost that position \nthrough the intrigues of Joseph Gooch. John Adams \nhas left a lively description of this affair, in which at \nthe time he felt a boy's keen interest ; for his own fa- \nther was in the regiment, and was offered a captain's \ncommission by Gooch, — an offer which \" he spurned \nwith disdain ; would serve in the militia under no col- \nonel but Quincy.\" Early appointed a magistrate, for \nyears and years the name of John Quincy — or Col. \nJohn Quincy, Esq., as the form of those days went — \nappears in the Braintree records as moderator of every \ntown-meeting. In the parish also he was the leading \n\n\nA TYPICAL MAN. 709 \n\nmail. After the usage of the period, he was noted for \n\" a strict observance of the Lord's day, and a constant \nattendance uj^on the public ordinances of religion.\" \nJohn Adams describes him '' as a man of letters, \ntaste, and sense,\" as well as \" an experienced and \nvenerated statesman ; \" but it is a curious fact of one \nso prominent that not a letter or paper of his, or even \na book known to have belonged to him, now remains \nin the possession of his descendants. \n\nAmong those of his own day John Quincy \" was as \nmuch esteemed and respected as any man in the prov- \nince.\" Enjoying what was then looked upon as an \nample fortune, \" he devoted his time, his faculties, and \nhis influence to the service of his country,\" studiously \navoiding \" an ensnaring dependency on any man, and \nwhatever should tend to lay him under any disadvan- \ntage in the discharge of his duty.\" He filled almost \nevery public office to which a native-born New Eng- \nlander could in the colonial days aspire. Colonel in \nthe militia. Speaker of the House, member of the \nCouncil, he also negotiated Indian treaties, and in \n1727 the remnant of the Punkapog tribe, abused and \ndefrauded, petitioned that he might be appointed their \nguardian. For nearly twenty years he held this trust, \nthen resigning it \" by reason of his distance \" from \nhis wards. Finally, in all positions he approved him- \nself \" a true friend to the interest and prosperity of \nthe province; a zealous advocate for and vigorous de- \nfender of its liberties and privileges.\" \n\nThis detailed sketch of John Quincy is a necessary \nfeature in the history of a typical Massachusetts town \nof the colonial period ; for John Quincy was a typical \nman of that period. He represented, perhaps more \ncompletely than any other member even of the remark- \n\n\n710 SOCIAL LIFE. \n\nable family to which he belonged, a political and social \nelement in New England life which has since disap- \npeared. He belonged to the class which in England \nproduced John Hampden, — the educated country \ngentlemen, the owners of the broad acres on which \nthey dwelt. Following no profession, but going up to \nParliament year after year, they were the loyal, in- \ngrained representatives of the communities of which \nthey were a part. Of these men Washington was a \nVirginia offshoot. He represented them in their high- \nest phase of development under Southern surround- \nings, — plain, true, straightforward, self-respecting, \ngifted with that perfectly balanced common-sense \nwhich in its way is one sort of genius. Favorable cir- \ncumstances, always availed of, brought Washington \nto the front, and have made of him an American im- \nmortality. Yet in America at that time, as in the \nStoke-Pogis churchyard, there were doubtless many \nmen who contained within themselves the possibilities \nof a Hampden, a Milton or a Cromwell. That John \nQuincy contained those elements cannot be asserted, \nfor of him nothing now remains except a name and a \nfew dates. His grave, even, is not marked, nor its \nplace known ; but, none the less, throughout a long \nlife lived in the land he was a good specimen of the \nsturdy, common-sensed, high-toned class of English \ngentlemen in the shape New England reproduced \nthem in colonial days. What under other circum- \nstances he might have proved, it would be idle to \nsurmise. Born and dying a colonist in a small pro- \nvincial community thickly crusted over with theology, \nand in freedom of thought and fancy hardly more \nthan childish, he and those of his time had scant \nroom for development. The stage was small, and its \natmosphere was icy. \n\n\nJOHN QUINCY ADAMS. 711 \n\nIn one respect, however, John Quincy was singu- \nlarly fortunate. Though scarcely a line of his writing \nremains, though his public services are forgotten, \nthough his grave is unknown and his only son died \nchildless, yet his name survives. When, in 1792, the \noriginal town of Braintree was subdivided, the Rev. \nAnthony Wibird \" was requested to give a name to \nthe place. He refusing to do so, a similar request was \nmade to the Hon. Richard Cranch, who recommended \nits being called Quincy, in honor of Col. John \nQuincy.\" ^ Nor was this the only form in which the \nname was perpetuated. Colonel Quincy had two \nchildren, a son named Norton in honor of his mother's \nfamily, and a daughter, who became in time the wife \nof William Smith, of Weymouth. Among the chil- \ndren of this couple was one who, in October, 1764, \nmarried John Adams. In July, 1767, as old John \nQuincy lay dying at Mount Wollaston, this grand- \ndaughter of his gave birth to a son ; and when, the \nnext day, as was then the practice, the child was bap- \ntized, its grandmother, who was present at its birth, \nrequested that it might be called after her father. \nLong afterwards the child thus named wrote of this \nincident : — \"It was filial tenderness that gave the \nname. It was the name of one passing from earth to \nimmortality. These have been among the strongest \nlinks of my attachment to the name of Quincy, and \nhave been to me through life a perpetual admonition \nto do nothing unworthy of it.\" \n\nIn the year 1791, Miss Hannah Adams, the his- \ntorian, in writing to John Adams, made reference to \nthe \" humble obscurity \" of their common origin. Her \ncorrespondent, in reply, while acknowledging the kin- \n1 Whitney, Hist, of Quincy, 27. \n\n\n712 SOCIAL LIFE. \n\nship, went on energetically to remark that, could he \n^'ever suppose that family pride were any way ex- \ncusable, [he] shoidd think a descent from a line of \nvirtuous, independent New England farmers for a \nhundred and sixty years was a better foundation for \nit than a descent through royal or noble scoundrels \never since the flood.\" The \" virtuous, independent \nXew England farmers '' thus alluded to were not less \nimportant as a social and political element in colonial \ndays than the gentry. They represented the free \nyeomanry of England under the new conditions, just \nas the gentry represented the landholders; with the \ndistinction, already noticed, that the New England \nfarmer, as a rule, did not pay rent. He was the owner \nof the land on w hich he lived and a freeholder, — the \nequal of any one. This holding of the fee it was \nwhich gave him his individuality. He ceased to be \nthe cultivator of another's ground and himself had a \nstake in the country. Accordingly, he became an \ninfluence second to none other in the shaping of Xew \nEngland development. His influence, too, was im- \nmensely conservative. Xot quick of thought, he was \nthe reverse of receptive of new ideas ; and, when \nmoney entered into the question, he was mean. Ac- \ncustomed in his struofole for subsistence to extort \neverything he got from a niggard soil, he watched \npublic expenditure with a cold, saving eye, and in \ntown-meeting could be safely counted upon to raise his \nvoice against anything which was likely to impose a \nburden on his acres. Subsequent history showed this \nclearly. Questions of taxation appealed to him at \nonce, and a freedom from all imposts not voted by him- \nself most nearly embodied his idea of independence. \nIn the sphere of his narrow village life, far removed \n\n\nDEACON SAMUEL BASS. 713 \n\nfrom great cities, he saw round about liiui but two \nclasses of men to whom he in any way looked up, — \nthe clergy and the gentry, the minister and the magis- \ntrate. So far as means and mode of life were con- \ncerned, those composing these classes were not very \ndifferent from himself ; they, as well as he, led simple \nlives. All mingled in the streets, at church and in \ntown-meeting, with an equality which was not the less \nmutually respectful because it was real. In the gen- \ntry and clergy, therefore, the farmer saw nothing to \nwhich he might not aspire for his own child. There \nwas no privileged class ; no suggestion of caste, or \nrank, or nobility. If the small farmer chose by dint \nof severe economy to send his son to college, that son \nwould be a minister or a lawyer, and might marry \ninto the gentry. Accordingly, the farmer was very \napt to send one son at least to college. \n\nAs Edmund and John Quincy were in Braintree typi- \ncal of the gentry, so Deacons Samuel Bass and John \nAdams were typical of the farmer class. Through the \nwhole colonial period the deacon was held in high re- \nspect ; on the Sabbath he sat on his own bench before \nthe pulpit, and on the week-day he and the magistrate \nand the officers of the militia were the titled men of \nthe village. Speaking of a kinsman of his, Oxen- \nbridge Thacher used to say, — \" Old Col. Thacher, of \nBarnstable, was an excellent man ; he was a very holy \nman ; I used to love to hear him pray ; he was a coun- \nselor and a deacon. I have heard him say that of all \nhis titles, that of a deacon he thought the most honor- \nable.\" Brain tree's first deacon, Samuel Bass, has \nalready been referred to as the progenitor of a numer- \nous offsj^ring, for at the time of his death he had seen \none hundred and sixty-two descendantsc Born in \n\n\n714 SOCIAL LIFE. \n\nIGOl, he came over to New England in 1632, and first \nsettled at Koxbury ; from whence, in 1640, he re- \nmoved to Braintree, there purchasing lands which for \nover two centuries remained in the hands of his de- \nscendants. He was received into the communion of \nthe church in July, 1640, and chosen deacon, which \noffice he held until his death, in 1694. A small two- \nhandled cup of plain silver in the communion service \nof the First Church yet bears his name and title in= \nscribed upon it as one of its givers. Active also in \ncivil life. Deacon Bass represented the town in no less \nthan twelve General Courts between 1641 and 1664. \nIn 1645 he was on the committee to see that the town- \nmarsh should \" be improved to the Elders' use,\" and \nfor several years he was one of three, empowered by \nthe court to \"end small cases in Braintree under \nt\\venty shillings.\" In 1653 he received fifteen votes \nout of a total of forty-one for the position of ruling \nelder in the church, and two years later he was one of \nthe commission appointed by the General Court to \nbuild a cart-bridge over the Neponset. Thus — \n\n\" His virtues walk'd their narrow round, \nNor made a pause, nor left a void ; \nAnd sure the eternal Master found \nHis single talent well employ'd.\" \n\nIn 1657 a son of Deacon Bass, John by name, mar- \nried Ruth Alden, the daughter of John and Priscilla \nAlden, of Plymouth and Mayflower fame. By her \nhe had a daughter, Hannah, born in June, 1667. \nThis Hannah Bass presently married Joseph Adams, \nof Braintree, and on the 8th of February, 1692, she \ngave birth to John Adams, afterwards in his turn \ndeacon of the North Precinct church. This John \nAdams, therefore, was the great-grandson of the origi- \n\n\nDEACON JOHN ADAMS. 715 \n\nnal Deacon Bass, and one of the hundred and sixty- \ntwo descendants born to him before his death. John \nAdams was in his turn a typical New England yeo- \nman. He lived on his farm, through which ran the \nmain street of the town, dying in 1761, \"beloved, \nesteemed, and revered by all who knew him,\" hav- \ning had seven children, the eldest of whom, also \nnamed John, he had sent to college. The life of the \nelder John Adams well illustrates what has been \ncalled 1 \" the sturdy, unostentatious demeanor of those \nwho filled the minor places of usefulness \" in early \nNew England. For nearly forty years his name \nregularly appears in the records of the town. He \npassed through all its grades of office ; for in 1722, \nhe being then by occupation a \" cordwainer,\" or maker \nof shoes, was chosen \" sealer of leather.\" In 1724 he \nwas tithingman, and in 1727 constable, or collector of \ntaxes ; in 1734 he was an ensign in the militia, and \nalso selectman ; and a little later, having become lieu- \ntenant, he volunteered to take care of the town powder, \nproviding a chest for it in his own house, which he \nthus converted into a magazine. Between 1740 and \n1749, being still Lieutenant Adams, he was nine times \nselectman. It was in one of the earlier of these years \nthat his military life came to an end as the result \nof Joseph Gooch's intrigues to supersede Col. John \nQuincy. Loyal to his commanding officer, Lieut. John \nAdams, it will be remembered, refused \" with dis- \ndain \" the offer of a captaincy from Gooch. But in \nMay, 1747, he had taken his place among the deacons \non the bench before the pulpit, and in 1752 he reap- \npears in the records among the selectmen as Deacon \nJohn Adams, and is chosen through four successive \n\n1 Hobart, Centennial (1876) Oration at Braintree, 22. \n\n\n716 SOCIAL LIFE. \n\nyears, and again in 1758 ; fourteen years in all, did \nhe fill the office, \" almost all the business of the town \nbeing managed by him.\" He was now in his sixty- \nseventh year, and his name is found but once more in \nthe records, and then only in connection with a way \nthrough his land. He died in a season of epidemic \nthree years later. Long after, in referring to him, his \nson wrote that he could not adequately express the \nexalted opinions he had \" of his wisdom and virtue,\" \nand that he was \"a man of strict piety and great \nintegrity ; much esteemed and beloved wherever he \nwas known, which was not far, his sphere of life being \nnot extensive.\" Still later his grandson, then Presi- \ndent of the United States, while philosophizing in his \ndiary over the difference of fortune in life between \nthose of his kindred educated at Harvard College and \nthose not enjoying that advantage, wrote as follows of \nthe generation of his family to which the first John \nAdams belonged : — \"If my grandfather himself had \nreceived the same education, he would have been dis- \ntinguished either as a clergyman or as a lawyer. \n\n\" ' But Knowledge to his eyes her ample page, \nRich with the spoils of time, did ne'er unroll.' \n\nAnd the summit of his political distinction was the \noffice of a selectman of Braintree.\" ^ \n\nIf the Quincys — Judges and Colonels — furnish \nperfect types of the colonial gentry, as Deacon Bass \nand Lieutenant John Adams do of the colonial yeo- \nmanry, so an equally perfect type of the colonial skilled \nworkman and non-commissioned officer is furnished \nin John Marshall, sometime treasurer of the North \nPrecinct in Braintree, whose diary memoranda have \nalready been referred to. Born in Boston in 1664, \n\n1 J. Q. Adams, Memoirs, vii. 143. \n\n\nJOHN MARSHALL. Ill \n\nMarshall passed the greater portion of his working life \nin Braintree. His regular trade seems to have been \nthat of mason ; but, when work in that line was dull, he \nmade a living by turning his hand to ahnost any occu- \npation, seeking a job wherever it could be found. So, \nwithout apparently owning any land, he at times farmed \non a small scale, made laths in winter, painted houses, \ndid carpenter work, burned brick, bought and sold \nlive-stock, and acted as a messenger. He was also a \nnon-commissioned officer in the Braintree company of \nthe Suffolk regiment, and an active member of the \nchurch, being for a time precinct treasurer ; his name \nappears frequently in the town records, usually as con- \nstable, but sometimes as tithingman or surveyor of \nhighways. John Marshall died in October, 1732, \nhaving been during his sixty-eight years of life \" much \nesteemed \"in his station, and, as the record sometimes \nexpressed it, \" Improved in the Town in many Offices \nof publick Trust.\" \n\nSome of Marshall's diary jottings have now become \ncurious as affording glimpses of the daily life and \nmodes of thought of a laboring man in the New Eng- \nland of two centuries ago. He lived on what he could \nearn, and his usual wages as a mason were four shil- \nlings, or sixty-seven cents, a day, about the equivalent \nof 13.50 a day now. He found his more regular em- \nployment in Braintree, but sought odd jobs in Boston \nand on Castle Island, as well as in Hingham, Wey- \nmouth, Milton, Dorchester and elsewhere. He was \nvery religious, and his diary contains entries like the \nfollowing : — \n\n\" Tills is written October 1 st in the evening, and to-mor- \nrow is my birthday. I am now forty years old, and cannot \nbut be ashamed to look back and consider how I have spent \n\n\n718 SOCIAL LIFE. \n\nmy lost time ; being at a great losse whether any true grace \nbe wrought in my soul or no ; corruption in me is very pow- \nerful ; grace (if any) is very weak and languid. I have \nreason to pray as the spous, awake o north wind, and come \nthou south wind and blow upon my garden, to stir up my- \nself to take hold of God, to engage my cry to the Lord and \nmy whole man in his service, which the Lord enable me to \ndoe.\" \n\nHe notes how he made laths, — six hundred in two \ndays, — *' watched with Mr. Quinsey,\" — dug and \nbricked Mr. Quincy's grave, — \" went to Boston to \nlecture,\" and \"mended Doctor Hoar's monument.\" \nEarly in 1690 Marshall seems to have been clerk and \naccounting officer of the Braintree company, and he \nwrote, \" it was then ordered by the malitia that a mil- \nitary watch be kept in this towne of half a company a \nnight. Our company watched the 6 and 7 of A prill. \nIn the two nights we spent in drink 6s. 4d., in candles \n8d., one shilling taken between father and self.\" In \n1699, the Earl of Bellomont reached New England, \nthe newly appointed Governor of the Province, and \nMarshall went to Boston, apparently with his company, \nto take part in the reception, for which great prepara- \ntions were made : — \n\n\"Ther was I think twenty companys of souldiers, of \nwhich three were troops, and such a vast concourse of people \nas my poor eys never saw the like before : the life-guard \nwent to Roadisland to wait on him : two troops went to Ded- \nham to meet him their : and when he came to Boston we \nmade a guard, from the end of the town to the South meet- \ning house. The life guard rode foremost then came some \noficers : next his Lordship and Countess : then the troops and \nother gentlemen : the drums beat, the trumpets did sound, \nthe CouUors weer displayed : the Cannons and ordinance \n\n\nEARL BELLOMONT. 719 \n\nfrom the ships and fortifications did roar : all manner of ex- \npressions of Joy : and to end aU Fireworks and good drink \nat night.\" \n\nMarshall then notes his contributions to the support \nof the church, — three shillings in 1700, five shillings \nand fourpence in 1702, three shillings and eight pence \nin 1703; — he mentions the death of the Rev. Mr. \nIchabod Wis wall of Duxbury, \" a man of eminent ac- \ncomplishment for the service of the sanctuary,\" and \nin December, 1701, reviewing the occurrences of the \nyear, he says : — \n\n\" God frowned on the Land by the death of our governor \nthe earle of Bellomont Last March And by the death of the \nDeputy Gouvernour Stoughton in July Last past, and sundry \nothers of great worth dyed this year as the Rev*^. Mr. Wil- \nham Brimsmead, of Marlbourough. Yet among all these \nsad providences God remembered mercy for his poor people \nby speriting the remaining of our Councellors to their work. \nBy which the Country was put into a posture of defence \nagainst enemyes.\" \n\nA year later, speaking of an epidemic of small-pox \nwhich had then been raging for some time, Marshall \nwrote : — \n\n\" Through the great mercy of God we in Braintree weer \nin health thus far in this sick and dying time, only a few \nchildren weer sick. But at Boston many dyed allthough the \nfeaver was not so bad now as in time past, yet the small \npocks was very Bad. So that I may truly call to mind the \nwords of the prophet, the Lords anger is not turned away. \nBut his hand is stretched out still.\" \n\nOn June 13, 1704, \" was a muster in Braintree to \npress men for the Country's survise, among whom I \nwas impressed, for one : \" next day he says, \" I went \n\n\n720 SOCIAL LIFE. \n\nto the Governoiir and got a clearance from the im- \npress.\" Tliree years later, in March, 1707, Marshall \nagrees \" to serve in the office of constable for Nath^ \nSpear for three pounds money,\" and then, on the 31st \nof that month, he writes, — \n\n\" At home Gathering stones out of the lott, and so this \ncool, windy month of March is marched away. And indeed \nit was right march many weathers : sometime cold : then \nhot then cold, then wet, then dry : it was a time of genral \nhealth.\" \n\nIn June, 1709, another impressment was ordered of \nsoldiers for the Canada expedition, and now Marshall \n\"pressed James Puffer and Jabez,\" and then ob- \nserves, — \" we had our army in pay all this month ; \nnothing done Vjy them, only eat and drink and run the \ncountry in deVjt.\" In 1710 he remarks at the close \nof February, '' the month ends well with them that \nare in health and have store of money.\" But in the \nfollowing August he was again impressed and notes, \n\" 8-9 weer idle days seeking to hire a man;\" and at \nthe close of the month he says, \"I was impressed to go \nforth in her majesties service. My circumstances not \nallowing me to go out myself, I therefore hired Na- \nthaniel Owen in my room, who was well accepted by \nMajor Taylor, muster-master. And I paid him ten \npounds money.\" \n\nSuch was a country mechanic in Massachusetts in \nthe latter part of the seventeenth century and at the \nbeginning of the eighteenth. Such w^as his life and \nsuch his line of thought, leading him to comment on \nthe Rev. Samuel Willard, vice-president of Harvard \nCollege, at the time of that eminent divine's death, as \n\" a person of excelent accomplishments natural and \n\n\nREV. SAMUEL WILLARD. 721 \n\nacquired : an hard student, a powerful preacher of the \nword of God, an exemplary christian : a mirror of all \nthat is good.\" ^ \n\n1 Lunt, Two Discourses (1839), 108-12; Proc. Mass. Hist. Soc \nSeries II. i. 148-62. \n\n\nCHAPTER VIII. \n\nTHE VICIOUS, THE POOR AND THE INSANE. \n\nWhile the individuals whose lives have been \nsketched represented the gentry, the yeomanry and \nthe artisans of the province, it must not be supposed \nthose classes made up the whole of that community. \nSuch was not the case. They were its distinctive \ntypes only. The body of that community, like those \nof all communities, was composed of laboring people ; \nand, while in Braintree the richest were poor, there is \nample evidence that the poorest did not live in abun- \ndance. On the contrary, besides the ordinary laborer \nwho simply made his living, there was a curious \npauper class, traces of which appear all through the \nrecords, living in hovels on the waste land and picking \nup a living in unknown ways. Those composing this \nclass were not peculiar to Braintree, and it has been \npointed out that the denizens of the groups of wretched \nhovels in places locally known by such names as \n\" Purgatory \" and \" HeU-huddle,\" or the like, while in \nmany instances the degenerate offspring of a sound \nNew England stock, yet in other cases \"show strong \npoints of resemblance to that ' white trash,' which has \ncome to be a recognizable strain of the English race ; \" \nand they have been classed with the \" redemptioners,\" \nor immigrants, common in the middle colonies, but \nrare in New England, who voluntarily bound them- \nselves to service for a stated time in order to defray \n\n\n\"POOR, WHITE TRASH.\" 723 \n\nthe cost of their passage over from Europe.^ While \nthis may be generally true, yet, so far as traces of this \nclass are to be mot with in the Braintree records, they \ndo not seem to call for much explanation. As an \nelement in the community, it was merely the natural \nresiduum of existing social conditions, — that inev- \nitable, though varying, percentage of the vicious, the \nshiftless and the weak always to be found in every \npopulation, no matter how thrifty and energetic, or \nmoral and temperate ; and, while the inhabitants of \ncolonial New England were as a race remarkable \nfor thrift and energy, they were less conspicuous for \nmorality and most decidedly intemperate. \n\nLeft to take care of themselves, the law of the \nsurvival of the fittest, though then not understood, \nworked slowly, but in that rugged climate with terrible \ncertainty, on these transient denizens of the waste \nplaces. They died out. When Quincy was set off, \nin 1792, one of the first things the selectmen did was \nto warn fourteen adults, seven of whom had families, \nto \" depart the limits of the town.\" Throughout the \nrecords of the whole colonial period, down even to the \nyear 1830, the heavy proportion which the expense of \nmaintaining the poor bears to all other public charges \nis most noticeable. It was far heavier than it now is, \nand it showed a continual tendency to disproportionate \ngrowth. In 1770 for instance, out of a total expen- \nditure of only X245, or $820, no less than £90, or \nthirty-six per cent, of the whole, was spent in assisting \nthe poor. The outlay on that account very nearly \nequalled that on account of the schools. A century \nlater, though the amount spent on the care of the poor \nwas considered so large that it excited criticism and \n^ Fiske, Beginnings of New Eiigland, 142-3. \n\n\n724 THE POOR AND THE INSANE. \n\nled to a loud demand for reform, it was but eight per \ncent, of the total amount assessed and thirty per cent, \nof that expended on the schools. As compared with \nthe aggregate of town expenses, the amount spent on \nthe care of the poor was therefore, in Braiutree, nearly \nfive times as large in 1770 as it was in Quincy in \n1870. And yet the charity of those earlier days was \ncold. Indeed, anything colder could not well be con- \nceived. It acknowledged in the poor and the unfor- \ntunate a right to live ; and that was all. On this \npoint the record is instructive. \n\nIt opens with the town-meeting of December 24, \n1694, when the earliest specific appropriation ever re- \ncorded in Braintree was made. The first item of it \nreads : — \" Five pounds for John Belcher's widow's \nmaintenance ; thirty shillings to Thomas Revell for \nkeeping William Dimblebee.\" But the unfortunate \nDimblebee had already gone to his rest, and this pay- \nment was for service performed, as a little further on \nseven shillings is appropriated \" for Dimblebee's cof- \nfin.\" Before this entry of 1694 there is one other \nwhich throws a gleam of ghastly light on a subject \nwhich in recent years has been much discussed. It \nhas been somewhat the fashion to assert that for cer- \ntain reasons, traceable to local peculiarities of life or \nthought, insanity is in New England on the increase, \nand the census tables have been confidently appealed \nto in support of this startling theory. Those advocat- \ning it have seemed to forget that social statistics are \nof recent invention, and that the charitable systems of \nsome communities are more perfect than those of others. \nTo compare the showing as respects insanity of a \ncommunity which now carefully gathers the demented \ntogether and tei^derly cares for them in hospitals, \n\n\n''GOOD-WIFE witty:' 725 \n\nwith the showing of that same community before its \ndemented were cared for at all, is sufficiently absurd : \nyet even this is far less absurd than it is to compare \nthe record of such a community with that of some \nother community which still leaves its insane tied in \nattics and cellars, or wandering in the streets, or, at \nbest, shut up in a poor-house ; and then to argue that \nthe first community, because it cares for the insane \nand numbers them, is afflicted with an epidemic of \ninsanity from which the last community, because it \nneither cares for or numbers them, is exempt. It is a \nmistake to suppose that our age has been fruitful of \nnew social or physical evils. There is a world of truth \nin Macaulay's remark, when treating of these ques- \ntions, that the social and physical ills which so shock \nus now are, with scarcely an exception, old : \" that \nwhich is new is the intelligence which discerns and \nthe humanity which remedies them.\" \n\nHere is the first record relating to the treatment of \nthe insane poor of Braintree town, under date of \n1689: — \n\n\" It was voted that Samuel Speer should build a little \nhouse, seven foot long and live foot wide, and set it by his \nhouse to secure his sister, good wife Witty being distracted, \nand provide for her, and the town by vote agreed to see him \nwell payed and satisfied which shall be thought reasonable.\" \n\nThe wretched maniac was chained like a dog in a \nkennel which stood by her brother's house. Then \nagain, in 1697, the \" freeholders orderly convened \" \nvoted \" five pounds for the healing of Abigail Neal, \nnow underhand,\" and a committee of two, one of \nwhom was the town treasurer, was appointed \" to \ntransport and take care of her.\" Where the poor \ncreature waG carried, or who contracted to \" take care \n\n\n72G THE POOR AND THE INSANE. \n\nof her,\" nowhere appears, nor, among human affairs \nnow nearly two centuries old, is it of much account ; \nbut, in 1700, the record reads again, in language \nhardly less significant of cold, merciless brutality than \nthat used in the case of \" good wife Witty Speer : \" — \n\n'' Voted, That Mr. John Bayly, of Roxberry, should have \nfive pounds monney for keeping Abigail Neale. Provided \nhe give the Town noe further Trouble about her : \" — \n\nBut Abigail Neal was not yet, nor in this way, to \nbe got rid of ; and the next year Dr. Bayley had to be \nvoted eight jDounds more, accompanied again with the \ncondition that he should \" take up therewith and give \nthe Town no Farther Trouble.\" The year following \nAbigail cost the town thirty-eight shillings, and the \nyear after that twenty shillings ; and at last, in 1707, \nit was bargained with one \" Samuel Bullard, of Ded- \nham or Dorchester,\" that he should take the unfortu- \nnate creature and keep her for eighteen pence a week ; \nand if he cured her he should have ten pounds, but, if \nhe failed to cure her, only twenty shillings. The rec- \nords contain no further trace of Abigail Neal. But \nat the same time \"Ebenezer Owen's destracted daugh- \nter \" had to be cared for, ai\\d the selectmen accord- \ningly in 1699 are instructed to treat with Josiah Owen \n\"and give him Twenty pounds money provided he \ngives bond under his hand to cleare the Town forever \nof said girle.\" Mary Owen was no more to be so \ndisposed of than Abigail Neal, and in 1706 forty \nshillings a year was voted Josiah Owen for her care. \n\nSuch in those days — \" good old days \" — was the \nprovision made for the insane, — a kennel in which to \n\" secure \" them, or eighteen pence a week for care, or \ntwenty pounds provided bond was given \" to clear the \n\n\nCOLD CHARITY. I'll \n\ntown forever of said girl.\" The poor were treated \nwith consideration not much more tender. In 1710 \nfor instance, \" John Penniman of Swansey \" having \napparently obtained in some way a legal settlement in \nBraintree, it is voted that \" Twelve pounds be raised \" \nfor him, \" provided that the Town be forever cleared \nof him ; \" and eighteen months later, Samuel Penni- \nman, in consideration of the \"above named Twelve \npoimds money,\" binds himself \" to find my Brother \nthe above said John Penniman with good and suf- \nficient meat, drink, apparell, washing and Lodging, \nand with all other things necessary and convenient in \nsickness and in health during the time and terme of \nhis natural life.\" John Penniman, therefore, seems, \nat a not unreasonable public charge, to have been well \nfixed for the remainder of his existence. But some \nof the votes have a more human ring, as, in 1729, \nwhen William Taunt, \" by breaking his legg and being \nlong lame and uncapable of business, he was reduced \nto low circumstances; and therefore desired of the \ntown the loan of five Pounds for a year,\" the town \nvoted him the amount \" for his relief not to be Re- \npaid.\" \n\nIn old Braintree there was no almshouse, nor any \nregular system of caring for the poor, until shortly be- \nfore the division of the town. Paupers were either \naided at their own abodes, or the care of them farmed \nout on the lowest attainable terms, either for the time \nbeing, or, as in the case of John Penniman, with the \ncondition that on payment of a lump sum \" the Town \nbe forever cleared of him.\" Occasionally some special \nprovision was made for their housing, as when in 1701 \nit was voted that \" Nathaniel owen should have five \npounds allowed him next Town Rate Towards the \n\n\n728 THE POOR AND THE INSANE. \n\nerrecting of a Room for the entertaining and taking \ncare of his Father and mother. Provided the said \nowen will doe it.\" ^ At last, in 1786, only six years \nbefore Quincy was incorporated as an independent \ntown, and at the close of a century and a half of cor- \nporate existence, an almshouse was built in the Middle \nPrecinct as the result of an agitation on the subject \nwhich began at least as early as 1740, and in the \ncourse of which the adjoining town of Milton had at \none time proposed that such a house should be built \non common account. This jn-oposition was declined ; \nbut twenty years later, the spirit of conservatism was \nso far overcome that it was voted \" a Power be lodged \nin the Hands of the Overseers of the Poor to hire \na House if they see cause.\" At last the erection of \na species of barrack \" sixty-eight feet in Length, four- \nteen feet wide, with two Stacks of Chimneys,\" was \nordered, as a \" receptacle for the Poor,\" and the fol- \nlowing year, 1787, it was voted that no relief should \nbe given to any except \" to such as are or may be de- \nposited in the Towns Hows Built for that purpose.\" \nThe appointment of an overseer of the poor having \nbeen agitated during thirteen years, Capt. Jonathan \nThayer was now chosen to the position, and subse- \nquently allowed £3 12s. for a year's services, or about \none dollar a month ; certainly not an inordinate sal- \nary if measured by nineteenth century standards : nor \nwould there seem to be any occasion for surprise \nthat, when again chosen \" overseer of the Towns \nPoor \" in March, 1787, Captain Thayer asked to be \nexcused. He was excused accordingly, and Captain \nSilas Ward chosen in his place ; to whom a year later \nthe sum of <£6, or twenty dollars, was voted, \" for his \n- 1 See Bliss, Colonial Times on Buzzard's Bay, 96-100, 203-6. \n\n\nPAUPERISM. 729 \n\ntrouble in providing necessarys for the Poor and look- \ning after and taking cair of them the year past, and \nUp to this day.\" \n\nThroughout the eighteenth century the providing \nfor the needs of the town poor — entailing as it did \nthe duty of hunting them up at the places where they \nmade their abodes — was one of the most important \nand irksome duties of the selectmen. It was also a \nfruitful source of jobbery. John Adams describes how, \nthe moment a selectman was elected, he was impor- \ntuned for \" the privilege of supplying the poor with \nwood, corn, meat, etc.\" He then had to visit them, \nand, if he found they had a legal settlement in another \ntown, return them to it. After the division of the origi- \nnal town in 1792, Quincy adopted the practice of put- \nting the care of its poor up at public auction, to be \nknocked down to those who would undertake it at the \nlowest price. In 1813 this price averaged \"il.42 each \nper week, exclusive of sickness and funeral charges.\" \nIn 1806, also, it was voted that \" the medical care of \nthe poor be let out by the selectmen to the physician \nwho will undertake that charge at the lowest price.\" \nNaturally this method of dealing with pauperism put \na premium on its increase, and, instead of improving, \naffairs steadily grew worse ; so that, strange as it now \nseems, during the six years between 1808 and 1813, \nboth inclusive, out of 118,200 levied by taxation to \nmeet necessary town and parish expenses, §6,205, or \nmore than one third of the whole, went to the support \nof the poor ; and in 1816, while $800 was spent on the \nschools, the poor cost $1,600. Even at that late day, \nforty years after independence was achieved, the sup- \nport of the town poor cost more than either church or \nschools. As will presently be seen, the matter was \n\n\n730 THE POOR AND THE INSANE. \n\nthen vigorously taken hold of, and the abuse reformed. \nNevertheless, the evidence all points to the conclusion \nthat, in proportion to the total of all expenses, the cost \nof maintaining the poor prior to 1820 was several \ntimes what it now is in any well-regulated town, and \nin Quincy it still amounted, as in 1770, to nearly one \nhalf of the town expenses, those of the parish being \ndeducted. When, seventy years later, in 1889, the \ntown was incorporated as a city, it was less than one \ntenth. Carelessness and want of system in extending \nrelief undoubtedly had much to do with this excess ; \nbut, making every proper allowance, it is difficult, \njudging from the facts as recorded in the Braintree \nrecords, to avoid the inference that there is propor- \ntionally much less extreme poverty in the modern \nthan there was in the colonial New England town. \nPauperism has distinctly decreased. This is not gen- \nerally supposed to have been the case ; should it prove \nto be so, a partial explanation, at least, of the fact will \nprobably be found in the more temperate habits of the \npeople. \n\nIn Braintree and Quincy, as in all the other Massa- \nchusetts towns, these social problems, of which pauper- \nism was one and the care of the insane another, were, \nuntil a comparatively recent date, disposed of in what \nis commonly known as the plain, practical, business- \nlike way. Unfortunately the problems were complex ; \nso the plain, practical way of disposing of them proved \nnot to be the right way. Insanity and pauperism \ncould not be permanently hustled out of sight by a \ntown-meeting vote ; nor could the charge of the poor \nand insane be disposed of beyond the current year to \nthose who w^ould take the job at the lowest rate. \nThough excellent for certain purposes, it had yet to be \n\n\n\" THE PLAIN people:' 731 \n\nmade plain that the tovvn-nieeting was not adapted to \nevery purpose ; least of all could it work to results \nthrouo'h what is now known as a scientific method. \nAs a means for dealing with complex social problems, \ngovernment by town-meeting is, therefore, not a suc- \ncess. It can in fact no more deal successfully with \nthese problems than it could make discoveries in \nchemistry or astronomy. But poverty, intemperance, \nignorance and vice are found everywhere ; the town \ngovernment is found only in New England : and it is \nthe object of the present work to deal rather with \nthose institutions which are peculiar to New England \nthan with problems common to all mankind. It is of \ninterest here, therefore, only to show how those prob- \nlems were dealt with through the machinery of New \nEngland town government. That the plain people \nwere not scientists is obvious ; but it is equally obvious \nthat, though intensely conservative, and very slow of \nmovement, they did, through their failures and under \nthe pressure of circumstances, grope their way to some \nresults. Those results may not have been great, nor \nalways correct ; but, such as they were, they were at \nleast the results of those who worked them out : and, \nin working them out, these people learned to depend \non themselves. This educational work at least was \nalways going on ; and it was all-important. In com- \nparison with it the systematic regulation of the poor, \nor even the proper care of the insane, were things of \nlittle moment. \n\n\nCHAPTER IX. \n\nTHE MEETING-HOUSE. \n\nWhen John Adams was minister of the federated \nStates at the English Court, a certain Major Lang- \nbourne, of Virginia, one day dined with him, and in \nthe course of their table-talk noticed, rightfully enough, \nthe difference of character between Virginia and New \nEngland. John Adams then goes on : — \n\n'' I offered to give him a receipt for making a New Eng- \nland in Virginia. He desired it ; and I recommended to \nhim town-meetings, training- days, town schools and ministers, \ngiving him a short explanation of each article. The meeting- \nhouse and school-house and training-field are the scenes \nwhere New England men are formed. . . . The virtues and \ntalents of the people are there formed ; their temperance, \npatience, fortitude, prudence and justice ; as well as their \nsagacity, knowledge, judgment, taste, skill, ingenuity, dex- \nterity and industry.\" \n\nMr. Adams spoke from actual observation, for he, \nand his ancestors before him, had for a century and \na half been part of that which he described. Long \nafterwards he wrote that it was notorious he had him- \nself \" been a church-going animal for seventy-six years \nfrom the cradle,\" and his memory went easily back to \nthe time when the oldest men sat on the fore-seats ; \nfor, he added, \" I shall never forget the rows of vener- \nable heads ranged along those front benches which, as \na young fellow, I used to gaze upon.\" In the study \n\n\nSOCIAL STANDING. 783 \n\nof early New England life and manners, there are few \nthings more noticeable than the difference which ex- \nisted between church usages and town-meeting usages. \nAn absolute, almost rude political equality prevailed \nin town-meeting, and was rigidly enforced by custom \namounting to a common law. It is not easy to conceive \nof anything more democratic. On the other hand, \nby virtue of another common law usage, a degree of \ndeference now almost unknown 'was on the Sabbath \nday systematically paid within the walls of the meet- \ning-house, not only to age and official standing, but to \nsocial and family distinctions. Harvard College, as \nits seal still indicates, was founded more especially to \ninsure for Massachusetts a sufficient supply of learned \nand pious ministers, — it was the seminary of the es- \ntablished church of a Puritan commonwealth. For \nnearly a century and a half after the college was \nfounded, and until 1773, the names of the under- \ngraduates were arranged in the catalogue, not alpha- \nbetically or in recognition of proficiency as students, \nbut according to the social standing of the families of \nwhich they were members. The principle that pre- \nvailed in seating the meeting-house was thus carried \ninto the college. \n\nWhen, during the early half of the eighteenth cen- \ntury, John Wesley felt a call to inspire the conven- \ntional Church of England with new evangelical life, in \nso doing he sought always to revert to the primitive \ncustoms of those assemblies seventeen hundred years \nbefore, in which \"Paul the tent maker or Peter the \nfisherman presided,\" and two of his cardinal tenets \nrelated to the seating of the congregation, — the men \nand women were to be separated, and no one should \nclaim any pew as his own. During the whole of the \n\n\n734 THE MEETING-HOUSE. \n\nfirst half century of the Braintree church, this primitive \ncustom prevailed with it. There were no pews in the \noriginal stone edifice '' over the old Bridge,\" and the \ncongregation sat on benches, the men on one side and \nthe women on the other ; so, when in town-meeting the \nvote was doubted, \"the moderator, that it might be \nclearly decided. Divided the Polls by desiring those \nwho were for it to go into the womens seats, and those \nthat were against it to go into the mens seats.\" Nat- \nuralh% with the recognized social distinctions which \nprevailed in those days, certain places at Sabbath \nmeeting were by a sort of tacit, common consent con- \nceded to particular persons, and by the year 1693 this \nhad developed into a formal assignment of seats. The \ndivision of the floor-space into pews naturally followed ; \nbut, in the case of the first church of Braintree, this \ncame about slowly and involved almost a history of \nitself, quaintly illustrative of the period. \n\nThe first move towards a regular seating of the \ncongregation was made in 1694, when the town for- \nmally authorized the selectmen to \" seat the meeting- \nhouse.\" The task necessarily involved many difficult \nquestions of precedence, and evidently the selectmen \nwere not forward in the matter, so nothing seems then \nto have been done ; but in March, 1698, a special com- \nmittee of five, including the two deacons, was appointed \nto attend to the neglected business. \" They did the \nwork,\" though, as might naturally be supposed, \" not \nto general satisfaction ; \" and at last on \"the first Sab- \nbath in April people took the places (assigned to them) \nas many as saw good so to do.\" Even then, doubtless \nowing to jealousies excited by the action of the com- \nmittee, it had the year before been voted \" that upon \nthe drawing up or uniting the men's seats with the \n\n\nTHE PEW INNOVATION. 735 \n\nwomen's in the present alley, any Roome being left \nafter alterations, any person with consent of the Select- \nmen may at their own proper charges mak pews for \nthemselves and familys.\" At the same town-meeting \nit was also voted \" that Mr. William Rawson should \nhave priviledge of making a seate for his familie, be- \ntween or upon the two beams over the pulpit, not \ndarkening the pulpit.\" What means of access existed \nto this pen on the rafters nowhere appears ; nor, if \nindeed it was ever constructed, can it now be learned \nwhether it was reached by staircase or ladder : but \nthree years later, in 1700, Mr. Fiske, then the pastor, \nwas voted \" liberty to Build a Pew by South East \nwindow in the meeting house He leaving convenient \npassage.\" Bit by bit the floor space of the common \nhouse of worship seems then to have been parcelled \nout in severalty. \n\nIt was, in fact, at first much the same with the \nmeeting-house floor as with the soil ; there was thought \nto be plenty for all, and possession was not greatly \nprized until every desirable place, whether for seeing, \nbeing seen or to listen, had become the exclusive prop- \nerty of some one. Permits to build pews seem conse- \nquently to have been issued almost as a matter of \ncourse, and on the most liberal terms. Captain Wil- \nson, for instance, was allowed to construct in whatever \nconvenient place he should elect ; and in 1712 Joseph \nCrosby was actually granted leave to move the east \nentrance some four feet to the northward, so that he \nmight get for himself satisfactory space. To do this \nhe stoned up the old doorway, tearing down sufficient \nwall to make a new one. But, so far, the pews were \nat least confined to the wall space, and the centre of \nthe floor remained free to the great body of church- \n\n\n736 THE MEETING-HOUSE. \n\ngoers, who still sat in the \" mens seats \" or the \" wo- \nmens seats ; \" and now these began to grow jealous, \nand when, in 1725, David Bass sought to be allowed to \nsqueeze in one more pew in a small space still unoccu- \npied near the east window, the vote passed in the neg- \native. The galleries at first were not appropriated, \nexcept in so far as, by New England prescriptive \nright, they belonged to the village youth ; but this im- \nplied much. In Boston, for instance, as early as 1643, \nby a formal vote of the selectmen, '' Sergeant Johnson \nand Walter Merry are requested to take the oversight \nof the boyes in the gallery es ; \" and strict order was \nsubsequently made for the arrest of \" any young per- \nson \" who might be \" found without either meeting- \nhouse, idling or playing during the time of publick \nexercise on the Lords day.\" So it was also in Brain- \ntree : but, as there is no duty without a right, if duty \ncompelled boys to go to church, rights were secured \nto them in the gallery wliile in church. In 1720, the \nwhole wall space on the floor of the meeting-house \nhaving been appropriated to individual use, John \nSaunders and Samuel Savil thought to possess them- \nselves of a portion of the gallery ; and, in compliance \nwith their request, the precinct voted to them \" the \nTwo hindermost short seats in the gallery, in the south- \nwest side of the meeting-house, extending to the \nBeams, for a Pew for their wives and children.\" \nWhile the church-going duty of the boys remained the \nsame, their prescriptive gallery rights were by this \nvote distinctly impaired ; and consequently the Saun- \nderses and Savils in due time found their pew unmeet \nfor occupancy, the material of which it was constructed \nhaving apparently been reduced to rubbish. At a \nsubsequent precinct meeting the matter came up for \n\n\nTHE GALLERY. 737 \n\nconsideration, and the question was \"put by the Mod- \nerator, whether [the Saunderses and Savils] would Re- \nlinquish tlieir Right to their Pew, which was broken, to \nthe Precinct. They then did both thereupon Resign \ntheir Right to the Precinct.\" The galleries of the \nold stone meeting-house do not seem again to have \nbeen invaded by the pew-builder. \n\nThough in Braintree, as elsewhere in New England, \nthe system just described, under which the floor-space \nof the common place of worshij) was parcelled out into \nboxes like the proscenium of a theatre, grew out of \nthe usage of \" seating the meeting-house,\" yet from \nthe beginning it seems to have been founded on a \nwholly different principle. Money, and not recog- \nnition, whether personal or family, was at the basis of \nit. The finer and more ennobling principle was then \nby degrees lost sight of. For instance, it has been \nseen that the first vote in relation to the matter passed \nby the Braintree church in 1697 provided that persons \nmight \" at their own proper charges \" make pews for \nthemselves and families ; but when thirtj^-five years \nlater Mrs. Mary Norton gave to the same church \" a \nVelvet Cushion of Considerable Value,\" the precinct \nformally invited her \" to tak the upper end of the fore \nsect for her seet in the new Meeting-House.\" When \nthe John Hancock meeting-house of 1732 was built, it \nwas decided that it \" should be accomidated with Pews \nas conveniently as may be ; \" but the great body of \nthe floor space was still reserved for the \"men's seats\" \nand the \"women's seats,\" and on the front benches \nof the first were ranged those \" venerable heads \" on \nwhich John Adams gazed with ej^es of boyish awe ; \nwhile, at the \" upper end of the fore-seat \" of the lat- \nter, was the place formally and by vote reserved for \n\n\n738 THE MEETING-HOUSE. \n\n\" Maclm. Norton.\" The pews, little, irregular square- \nshaped boxes, were uiaiiily set against the walls, and \nwere disposed of in lots and for money to those who \ncould or woidd pay most for the better place, the \nprices varying from seven to twenty-five pounds, or \nfrom about #25.00 to §85.00 ; but it was not until \nafter 1760 that the common public seats disappeared \nwholly from the body of the floor. From that time \nforth the control of money superseded age, and recog- \nnition of private worth or public service or family con- \nsideration, in securing precedence in the house of the \nLord ; until, at length, in 1800 it is voted that \"the \nvacancy where the old stairway was in the church, be \nappropriated for the use of the black people to sit \nin.\" ^ In establishing such an order of precedence \nand making this provision for the poor, the lowly and \nthe despised, those composing the church could hardly \nhave had in mind that dread day of judgment, the \nthought of which was so constantly with them, when, \naccording to the scripture, the King sitting \" on the \nthrone of his glory\" should thus answer their prayer: \n— \" Verily I say unto you. Inasmuch as ye did it unto \none of these my brethren, even these least, ye did it \nunto me.\" If the language of holy writ was to be ac- \ncepted, through formal and recorded parish action the \nMaster had in Quincy been relegated to \" the vacancy \n\n1 *' At a Town meeting' holden at Hinghara, on the fifth day of \nMay, 1684, It is ordered by the Town, that the Negro Servants, men \nand Boys and also Indians shall sit in the new meeting house in the \nshort seats, between the Door and the Gallery Stairs, at the north- \nward end of the meeting house. And the English Boys under twelve \nyears old to set at the northward end of the meeting house behind \nthe mens seats. And Caleb Beal and John Prince are appointed by \nthe Town to look to the Boys in the time of meetings, and to do their \nbest endeavors to keep them from playing- at meeting and to continue \nin that place till new be chosen.\" \n\n\nTUNING THE PSALM. 739 \n\nwhere the old stairway was.\" In the prlinltlve church \nof old, as in John Wesley's chapels, the thing was dif- \nferently ordered ; and it is somewhat noticeable that \nequality in the worship of a common Creator has ever \nbeen as little observed in democratic New England as \nin any country classed as civilized ; if, indeed, it has \nnot been there less observed. \n\nThe \" old stairway \" had been in the west corner of \nthe edifice, — the point furthest removed from the \npulpit whence the Word was preached, and the vacant \nspace created by its removal was immediately in the \nrear of the \" men's hind seats,\" in which, some years \nbefore, those persons that had \" Ben at Pains and ex- \npense to Gain Instruction in the use of Psalmody,\" \nhad by vote been invited to \" acomidate \" themselves. \nBut the choir itself was then a modern innovation, \ndating no further back than 1764 ; for, during a whole \ncentury and a quarter prior to that time, the original \ncongregational custom had been continued in the \nBraintree church, under which the psalm was slowly \nlined out, and then repeated by the congregation after \nsuch fashion that, in the words of Cotton Mather, \" in \nlength of time their singing (had) degenerated into \nan odd noise that had more of what we want a name \nfor than any regTilar singing in it.\" The North Pre- \ncinct records show that, in 1723, \" Major Quincy was \nfairly and clearly chosen by written votes to the office \nof tuning the Psalm ; \" while at about the same period \nhis kinsman Judg;e Sewall filled the similar office at \nthe Old South in Boston, where on one occasion, he \nwrote, \" I intended Windsor and fell into High Dutch ; \nand then assaying to set another Tune, went into a \nKey much too high. The Lord humble me and In- \nstruct me that I should be occasion of any Interrup- \n\n\n740 THE MEETING-HOUSE. \n\ntion in the Worship of God.\" There is nothing in the \nrecords of the Nortli Precinct of Braintree to indicate \nthat Major Quinc}^ in \" tuning the Psahn \" was ever \nthe \" occasion of any Interruption in the Worship of \nGod,\" but there is evidence that at the time he per- \nformed this service the church of the Middle Precinct, \nover which the Rev. Samuel Niles then ministered, \nwas torn by dissension through \" Disorders occasioned \nby Regular Singing,\" so that Judge Sewall having, as \none of a church council, attended a \" publick hearing \nof the Matters \" in the Middle Precinct meeting- \nhouse at Braintree, was moved when he \"got safe \nhome a little after sunset \" to write in his diary, — \n\" O Lord restore Peace and Truth and Holiness to \nthat divided Flock.\" \n\nThe difficulty was illustrative of the period. The \nRev. Mr. Niles seems to have been an adherent of \n'' singing by rote,\" while the major part of his flock \nwere in favor of \" singing by rule.\" As they persisted \nin their practice, regardless of his admonitions, he \nsuspended several, and, at last, himself seceded from \nhis flock, performing on Sunday, December 1, 1723, \n\" the Duties of the Day at his Dwelling House, among \nthose of his Congregation who (were) opposers of \nRegular Singing. The Regular Singers met together \nat the Meeting House, and sent for Mr. Niles, who re- \nfused to come unless they would first promise not to \nsing Regularly ; whereupon they concluded to edify \nthemselves by the Assistance of one of the Deacons, \nwho at their Desire prayed with them, read a sermon, \n&c.\" It was not until the following April that this \nbreach was healed. The church council then met \nagain, and an accommodation was proposed, which was \nso far effective that the suspended brethren made some \n\n\nTHE CHOIR. 741 \n\ngeneral acknowledgment, and were restored. And \nnow Judge Sewall wrote in his diary : — \" O Lord \nPardon the Sin, and heal the Distemper whereby the \nminds of that people are alienated from each other.\" \n\nBut, returning from these experiences of the Middle \nPrecinct of Braintree to those of its North Precinct, in \n1761 the church voted \" to sing Dr. Watts hymns and \nspiritual songs on Sacramental occasions,\" and three \nyears later the choir came into recognized existence : \nbut not until 1804 was it voted \" to procure a bass \nviol for the use of the congregation ; \" while about the \nyear 1812 we are told \" the voices of the choir in the \nfront gallery were assisted by a discordant assemblage \nof stringed and wind instruments,\" most prominent \namong which were \" Hezekiah Bass with his large \nbass-viol, John Pray with his fiddle (and) Captain \nJosiah Bass with his noble voice to lead the sing- \nmg. \n\nDuring the early years of the century Quincy was \nstill a retired village, in which few changes had taken \nplace since the Revolution ; and the young wife of \nJosiah Quincy, third of the name and subsequently \nPresident of Harvard College, used afterwards to \ndescribe the meeting-house of that period as an an- \ncient wooden edifice, the pews in the centre of which, \n\" having been made out of long open seats by succes- \nsive votes of the town, were of different sizes, and had \nno regularity of arrangement, and several were entered \nby narrow passages, winding between those of the \nneighborhood. The seats, being provided with hinges, \nwere raised when the congregation stood during the \nprayer, and at its conclusion thrown down wdth a \nmomentum which, on her first attendance, alarmed \nMrs. Quincy, who feared the church was falling. \n\n\n742 THE MEETING-HOUSE. \n\nTlie deacons were ruDged under the pulpit, and beside \nits door the sexton was seated, while, from an aperture \naloft in the wall, the bell-ringer looked in from the \ntower to mark the arrival of the clergyman.\" ^ \n\nBut the colonial period was then fast drawing to \nits close. New England's individuality was passing \naway ; and, in the meeting-house, the gradual intro- \nduction of the pew, the choir and the stove had step \nby step marked the change. How great that change \nhad been can be inferred from a few scattered entries \nin the ancient records of church and town, indicatins: \na condition of affairs, which, in view of the inclemency \nof the New England climate, is now not easy to under- \nstand. The meeting-house would for a long period \nhave seemed to be not only out of repair, but, both \nSundays and week-days, actually open both to animals \nand the elements. For instance, in 1695 a committee \nwas appointed \" to stop the leaks in the south side of \nthe meeting-house ; \" and in 1730 the precinct clerk, \nJoseph Parmenter, was allowed twenty shillings — a \nlarge sum at that time, and equivalent to pay for the \nlabor of one man during ten days — for his services as \nclerk, and for \" clearing the meeting-house of snow the \nyear past, there having been cart-loads of snow blown \nin by a terrible storm.\" \n\nNor, in the New England mind, did any religious \nsentiment or idea of consecration attach to the church \nedifice. That the meeting-house and its furniture, such \nas it was, underwent hard treatment from numerous \nsecular and political gatherings, scarcely needs to be \nsaid. In Brain tree not only were those gatherings \nfrequent, but the deliberations and debates which took \nplace at them were sometimes long and exciting, while \n\n1 Memoir of Mrs. Quincy, 92. \n\n\nSECULAR USES. 743 \n\namong those assembled there was not a little disorder \nand drunkenness. The Middle Precinct meeting-house \nstood directly opposite the Eben Thayer tavern, where \na sort of open house was kept on all election and other \npublic days, and in 1766 John Adams records that a \ncertain candidate on the ticket with himself was de- \nfeated because \"the north end people, his friends, \nafter putting in their votes the first time, withdrew for \nrefreshment.\" Accordingly, it is small matter of sur- \nprise that the record contains formal votes to the effect \nthat \" it shall be considered as a disorder and treated \nas such for any person who shall get on the Seats with \ntheir Feet in any part of the meeting House.\" Indeed, \nthe Middle Precinct meeting-house seems to have \nserved for a time not only as a town-hall, but ap- \nparently also as a magazine ; for in 1746 the select- \nmen were instructed by a formal vote to build a \n\" Closite on the Beams of the Middle Precinct meeting- \nhouse (if it be allowed of) as a suitable place to keep \nthe powder.\" Nor was this use of the church edifice \npeculiar to Quincy. On the contrary, only six years \nafter the above vote was passed, on the 23d of April, \n1752, the meeting-house of the neighboring town of \nWeymouth, in which Parson Smith, the future father- \nin-law of John Adams, then ministered, by some chance \ncaught fire. Three barrels of the town powder were \nat the time stored for safe and convenient keeping in \nthe loft of the building ; and these at the proper \nmoment brought the conflagration to a crisis, making, \nas the minister of the church at the time duly recorded, \n\" a surprising noise when it blew up.\" \n\nIt has been asserted that in the earlier days it was the \ncustom in some communities for each family to bring \nits dog to church on days of great cold and to make \n\n\n744 THE MEETING-HOUSE. \n\nuse of it as a foot-wanner ; ^ whether this was so or not, \nat a Braintree North Precinct meeting held in Decem- \nber, 1729, those assembled \"' having Debated upon the \nDisturbance made by Dogs in the meeting-house on \nSabbath Days, to Prevent the same, they then voted \nthat Joseph Parmenter should have twenty shillings, \nprovided he would take care and pains in that matter, \nby beating and keeping of them out, .until the Precinct \nmeet next March.\" This provision, it will be noticed, \nwas made for the winter months, and it was in strict \naccordance with a vote of the whole town passed in \nApril fifteen years before, instructing the selectmen \nto \" draw up a by-law for the prevention of Dogs com- \ning into the Meeting-houses, in the time of Publick \nworship.\" But, from the other provisions of this vote, \ndirecting that a \" meet \" penalty should be imposed \n\" on the owners thereof,\" it would seem probable that \nthe \"dogs,\" following the vehicles of their owners to \nthe meeting-house, found their way into it among the \nentering members of the congregation ; and coming in \ncontact with each other as they smelt their way down \nthe benches, an occasional dog-fight would, as a natural \nconsequence, lead, in the language of Judge Sewall, to \nan \" Interruption in the Worship of God ; \" an inter- \nruption doubtless of deep and abiding interest to the \nnascent manhood of the gallery, but the reverse of \nedifying to those spiritually minded. ^ \n\n1 Earle^T^e Sabbath in Puritan New England, 95, 242. \n\n2 In the Johns Hopkins University Studies (I. iv.) there is a curious \nand interesting paper by Herbert B. Adams on Saxon Tithing Men in \nAmerica. In the course of it Mr. Adams says, — '' But more usually \none tithingman sat at each door of the meeting-house to keep out \ndogs, and one often sat in the gallery to keep in boys ; \" and he adds \nin a note, — \" The ' Dog Whipper ' was a regular institution in certain \nold English towns, notably in Exeter and Congleton (in Chester). Mr. \n\n\nDOGS AT CHURCH. 745 \n\nIn other and more conventional matters pertaining \nto churcli-going-, tiie people of Braintree differed, \nprobably, in nowise from the people of other New \nEngland country towns ; and of New England church- \ngoing sufficient has been written and said. For gen- \nEdward A. Freeman has called our attention to a curious law of Edgar \n(see Thorpe's Ancient Laws and Institutes of England, ii. 251), where- \nby parish priests were to see to it that no dog should enter church, nor \nyet more a swi)ie, i£ it could possibly be prevented ! \" \n\nIn his Colonial Times on Buzzard's Bay, Mr. Bliss enumerates \" the \nappointment of dog-whippers to beat out dogs in meeting time \" \namong the New England town customs which \" were an inheritance \nfrom the parishes of Old England\" (p. 103). And Mr. Richard Grant \nWhite in his edition of Shakespeare (vii. 426) quotes the following \nfrom Greene's A Looking Glass for London and England : — \"A gen- \ntleman ! good sir, I remember you well, and all your progenitors ; \nyour father bore office in our town ; an honest man he was, and in \ngreat discredit in the parish, for they bestowed two squires' livings on \nhim, the one was on working days, and then he kept the town cage, \nand on holidays they made him the sexton's man, for he whipped dogs \nout of the church.\" In his story of Woodstock, Sir Walter Scott, also, \ndescribes Sir Henry Lee of Ditchley as being always accompanied to \nchurch by his deerhound, Bevis, who, \" bating an occasional tempta- \ntion to warble along with the accord, behaved himself as decorously \nas any of the congregation.\" \n\nIn the Dedham (Mass.) town records is the following entry under \ndate of \" 12-11-1673: \" — \"Agreed with Nat Heaton to whip doges \nout of the Meeting House, and to goe upon errands for the reverend \nelders, referring to the church : and to take care of cushin and glass, \ntill further order be taken and for his paynes herein he is to receive \nof the Towne ten shillings for an whole year.\" \n\nIn Charlestown, Thomas Brigden, senior, was employed in 1666, at \na yearly compensation of four pounds, \" to look unto the Meeting \nHouse and clear it, to ring the bell to meetings, and to keep out doggs \nin meeting time.\" Frothingham, Hist, of Charlestown, 157. \n\nPaige in his History of Cambridge (p. 130) says : — \" On the 12th \nof May, 1729, it was, ' Voted, that so often as any dog or dogs is \nor are seen in the meeting-house on the Lord's day in the time of \npublic worship, the owner or owners of the said dog or dogs shall for \nevery such offence pay one shilling, half to go to the officer appointed \nto regulate said dogs, the other half part of said fine to be for the use \nof the poor of the town.' \" \n\n\n746 THE MEETING-HOUSE. \n\neratlons all those dwelling in Bi-aintree, of both sexes \nand of every age, — on foot, in carriage, wagon or \nchair, or on horseback, — as regularly as the Sabbath \ndawned, gathered towards the plain, wooden structure \nstanding on the training-ground. While the services \nwere conducted within, the horses stood patiently \nwithout in the neighboring meeting-house sheds, or, in \nsummer, hitched to the fence-posts ; and, in Quincy, \nuntil the year 1827, the old horse-block, for the con- \nvenience of the pillion-riding goodwife, stood close to \nthe main entrance. In the galleries sat the boys, under \nthe vigilant eye of the tithingman, though in the \nearlier days of the old stone church it had once been \nvoted \" that the uj^permost westerley gallerry be from \nhenceforward a seat for womenkind.\" Before the \npulpit were the deacons. And here doubtless in the \nearly days not unfrequently in midwinter was it so cold \nthat \" the Sacramental Bread was frozen pretty hard, \nand rattled sadly as broken into the plates.\" \n\n\nCHAPTER X. \n\nTHE CHURCH, AND CHURCH DISCIPLINE. \n\nIt remains to speak of the church as an educational, \ndirecting and restraining force during the colonial \nperiod, and of what is known as church discipline. \nAs will presently be seen, prior to the year 1693 the \nchurch organization was in Braintree the organization \nwhich had assumed most definite shape. Up to the \ntime when the charter of King Charles was superseded \nby that of William and Mary, and the Colony became \na Province, church-members only were freemen, and \nthe church must practically have governed the town, \nno division into precincts yet having taken place. \nNor, in the case of Braintree, was this arrangement \notherwise than natural, for the meeting-house was the \ntown-building, the bulk of the tax levy was for church \npurposes, and the minister was the central figure in \nthe community. After 1693 the political machinery \nas distinguished from the religious organization as- \nsumed a more and more definite shape ; and in 1708 \nthe process of develojDment in Braintree was greatly \nstimulated by the establishment of a second precinct, \n— the practical separation of church from state then \ntook place, in so far as those composing the body \nof inhabitants belonged to different precincts and \ncontributed to the support of independent churches. \nThis separation lasted until 1792, when, on the incor- \nporation of Quincy as a distinct municipality, church \n\n\n748 THE CHURCH. \n\nand town were again merged, and they remained \nmerged until April 12, 1824. On that day the parish \nwas finally, under the laws enacted in pursuance of \nthe provisions of the ame.nded constitution of 1821, \nsej^arated from the town, and became merely the Con- \ngregational Society of Quincy. Two generations of \nmen have since then passed away, and the church as \nit existed prior to 1824 has ceased to be more than a \ntradition: and even as a tradition it has become vaffue. \nYet the church of 1824 was in its influence and power \nthe mere shadow of the church of the earlier day; \nand while, during the fifty years of town life between \n1640 and 1690, under the colonial charter, the church \norganization was in Braintree all in all to its people, \nyet i^robably it was in the provincial period, and dur- \ning the first half of the eighteenth century, that what is \nknown as the discipline of the church made itself most \ndistinctly felt ; in any event the record of the larger \nportion of the earlier period, so far as Braintree is \nconcerned, long since disappeared, and its traditions \neven have faded wholly away. \n\nSix names, besides those of the pastor and teacher, \nwere appended to the original Braintree church cove- \nnant of September 16, 1639, and, during the ministry \nof Mr. Flynt, extending over twenty-nine years, the \nchurch contained two hundred and four adiilt mem- \nbers. During the Fiske, Marsh and Hancock pastor- \nates, down to the close of the first century of church \nlife in 1739, this number was increased to five hun- \ndred and fifty-eight, and on the 16th of September of \nthat year the pastor made a note of the fact that the \nchurch, \"both males and females, solemnly renewed \nthe Covenant of their Fathers, immediately before the \nparticipation of the Lord's Supper,\" — that covenant \n\n\nTHE GREAT AWAKENING. 749 \n\nunder which \"poor unworthy creatures, who have \nsometimes lived without Christ and without God in \nthe world, ... by the help and strength of Christ \nrenounce the devil, the wicked world, a sinful flesh, \nwith all the covenants of Anti-Christian pollution \nwherein sometimes we have walked, and all our former \nevil ways, . . . and we give up ourselves also one to \nanother by the will of God, . . . and we also mani- \nfest our joint consent herein this day in presence of \nthis assembly, by this our present public profession, \nand by giving to one another the right hand of fel- \nlowship.\" \n\nDuring those hundred years which ended on the \n16th of September, 1739, it is not too much to say \nthat the church was the life centre of Braintree. \nNor, when its second century began, had that life \ncentre as yet begun to lose its vitality ; on the con- \ntrary it then glowed with a brighter, a more feverish \nheat than ever before, — a heat which preceded the \ngradual waning of the old theological fire about to \nbegin. It was the period of religious revivals, — the \n\" Great Awakening,\" as it was called, in New Eng- \nland. Already, four j^ears before, in 1735, the famous \nNorthampton revival had taken place, when, in the \nwords of Jonathan Edwards, who engineered and pre- \nsided over it, \" the noise among the Dry Bones waxed \nlouder and louder,\" and \"Souls did as it were come \nby Flocks to Jesus Christ.\" Two j^ears later, in \n1741, George Whitefield preached on Boston Common \nto an audience of \" about fifteen thousand,\" computed \nas not far from three quarters of the whole population \nof the town. In May, 1744, Mr. Hancock died, and \nwith him ceased the records of Braintree church dis- \ncipline ; for, whether from indolence or because they \n\n\n750 THE CHURCH. \n\nsaw no advantage in so doing, the ministers who suc- \nceeded Mr. Hancock made no mention of anything \npertaining to the church's life or action beyond what \nwas contained in tlie book regularly kept by the pre- \ncinct clerk. But, among the still remaining archives \nof the society, there is one small volume both curious \nand valuable. Bound in smooth dark leather, the \npaper of w liich this volume is made is of that rough \nparchment character in such common use during the \nlast century, and the entries in it, in the handwritings \nof five different ministers, while deciphered only with \nthe utmost difficulty, throw vivid gleams of light on \nsocial habits and modes of existence which long since \nwholly disappeared. Beginning in 1673, these entries \nend in 1741, and the material out of which any di- \nrect knowledge can now be derived of Braintree church \nlife during colonial times is confined to those sixty- \neight years. \n\nDuring those years, as during the years which \ni^receded and followed of which no record remains, \nthe church of Braintree, like the churches of other \nNew England communities, was a social centre as \nwell as a religious organization. The life of the town \nradiated from it. The people dwelt on farms, at some \ndistance from each other in most cases, and usually at \nconsiderable distance from the meeting-house. Local \nand parental authority, church discipline, public opin- \nion, enforced church attendance. Fashion, habit, \nchoice, the love of company, the desire to see people \nand hear the news, all concurred in bringing every \none to meeting. To many it was sometimes impos- \nsible and often inconvenient to return home between \nservices. The result was that the inhabitants of the \ntown, old and young, male and female, were every \n\n\n\"^ MEETING-GOING ANIMALS 751 \n\nweek thrown and kept together for several hours, \nduring which they could not avoid that social inter- \ncourse which they naturally craved. Church attend- \nance was thus a more effective, educational and con- \ntrolling influence than town-meeting; for not only did \nit occur far more frequently, but it included all ages \nof both sexes. On pleasant Sabbaths, especially in \nthe spring and autumn, neighbors and acquaintances \nwould gather together in knots, and the young would \nstroll off among the trees or along the brook-side. In \nbad weather or in winter they would remain in the \nmeeting-house, or find shelter and warmth in the \ndwellings nearest to it. John Adams had reason, \ntherefore, for defining the colonial New Englander as \n\"a meeting-going animal,\" for the meeting-going habit \nproduced results upon the character of that people \nthan which none were more marked. In the absence \nof newspapers and of travel, the Sabbath was the day \nfor liearing and telling the news, and the meeting- \nhouse became a sort of central bazaar where local \ngossip could be interchanged. The church thus be- \ncame a club, as the door of the meeting-house served \nas a bulletin board.^ It was a club, too, from which \nexclusion placed an inhabitant of the town under a \nban, and made of him a pariah. \n\nTo be a \" child of the covenant,\" as the expression \nruns in the records, was to be born of those who were \nmembers of the church, and the pastor would not bap- \ntize a child unless one of its parents had entered into \n\n1 See on this subject Upham, Salem Witchcraft, i. 207-8 ; and \nBliss, Colonial Times on Buzzard's Bay, 121. While I am most in- \ndebted to the fii-st, the description contained in the last is the more \nlife-like and entertaining. Also, Earle, The Sabbath m Puritan New \nEngland, 109-10. \n\n\n752 THE CHURCH. \n\nthe covenant ; nor would he always baptize it even then.i \nThe method pursued in admitting a new member to \nchurch fellowship was well established. The pastor \nwas what the name implied, — the shepherd of the \nflock. As such it was his duty to keep a faithful over- \nsight of it, which extended as well to those wdio were \nmerely attendants at meeting as to those who partook \nof the sacrament. This oversight was inquisitive, — \npastoral. It took in the home and included the cate- \nchism. Such as, not yet of the covenant, gave evi- \ndence \" in a godly walk \" of being under religious in- \nfluence, or hopefully pious, were those for whom pastor \nand deacon, brother and sister, were most concerned ; \nbut all candidates for admission to the church were \nto offer themselves individually and under conviction, \nand this conviction was to be avowed. A conference \nwith an officer of the church then followed, and if this \nwas satisfactory the candidate was \" propounded \" be- \nfore the whole congregation for admission into the \nselect body those composing which were in covenant, \n— the church. This was a trying ordeal, for, though \nobjection was rarely made, any member of the congre- \ngation was free to rise up and demur, and in so doing \nmight ask questions of a most embarrassing character \nrelating to all sorts of incidents in the past life of the \ncandidate. The records of the older churches of Mas- \nsachusetts contain many individual experiences \" the \nrehearsal of which is not now viewed as edifying.\" \nAfter a suitable time from the \" propounding \" had \nelapsed, — a fortnight or a month, — the candidates, \nrising from their seats at the call of the pastor, in full \ncongregation and at a recognized point in the Sab- \nbath services, gave an oral or written relation of their \n1 Proc. Mass. Hist. Soc. Series II. vi. 433-4. \n\n\nPUBLIC RELATIONS. 753 \n\nindividual religious experience.^ A survival of the \nconfessional, but now made in public, this relation \nof experiences, while eagerly entered upon by some, \ncould not but have been a severe ordeal to others, and \nentries like the following are met with in the records : \n— '' The wife of our brother Hinsdell being fearful \nand not able to speake in publike, but fainting aw^ay \nther, coming to the church in private gave good satis- \nfaction ; which being publikly testified and declared, \nand she confirming the same relation to be so, was re- \nceived.\" The person seeking admission, man or boy, \ngirl or matron, stood, the object to which all eyes \nwere directed, and was then expected to reveal in pub- \nlic those thino's which in the church of St. Peter were \nwhispered in the ear of the hidden confessor. \n\nThe practice, of course, degenerated in time into a \nmere form ; but it must always have remained an \nordeal for the timid, while for the conscientious it was \na cruelty. Nor were the confessions, especially those \nof a certain class in which women were involved and \nconcealment was impossible, of an improving charac- \nter. So in 1722 \" some persons of a sober life and \ngood conversation,\" dwelling in the North Precinct \nof Braintree, signified their unwillingness to join the \nchurch unless they might be admitted \" without mak- \ning a Public Relation of their spiritual experiences, \nwhich (they said) the church had no warrant in the \nword of God to require.\" It was therefore proposed \nthat the church should no longer require a relation \nfrom \" any person who desires to partake in the ordi- \nnance of the Lord's supper with us ; and after the \ncase had been under debate at times among the breth- \n\n1 Ellis, The Puritan Age in Massachusetts, 206-8 j Dedham Church \nBecords, 20-1. \n\n\n754 CHURCH DISCIPLINE. \n\nren privately for the space of three weeks, the ques. \ntion was put to them January 28th, being on a Lord's \nDay Evening, in the meeting-house ; \" and \" it passed \nin the negative by a hirge majority.\" \n\nBut this action was confined to the relation of the \nindividual experiences of those seeking admission into \nthe church. The confessions of shortcomings on the \npart of church-members were still made, and discipline \nwas enforced after 1722, as apparently it had been \nfrom the beginning. Some of these cases, as they \nstand recorded,! are interesting as well as curious, re- \nvealing strange touches of human nature. One of \nthem, the first of its kind, in the handwriting of the \nRev. Mr. Fiske, bears date of March 2, 1683. Tem- \nperance, the wife of one John Bondish, had fallen into \nerror and her offence was manifest : — \n\n[She was accordingly] \" called forth in the open Congi-e- \ngation, and presented a paper containing a full acknowledg- \nment of her great sin and wickedness, [in wliich she] \npublickly bewayled her disobedience to parents, pride, un- \nprofitableness under the means of grace, as the cause that \nmight provoke God to punish her with sin, and warning all \nto take heed of such sins, begging the church's prayers, that \nGod would humble her, and give a sound repentance, etc. \nWhich confession being read, after some debate, the brethren \ndid generally if not unanimously judge that she ought to be \nadmonished ; and accordingly she was solemnly admonished \nof her great sin, which was spread before her in divers par- \nticulars, and charged to search her own heart wayes and to \nmake thorough work in her Repentance, etc., from which \nshe was released by the chui'ch vote unanimously.\" ^ \n\n1 Proc. Mass. Hist. Soc. Series II. vi. 480-90. \n\n2 In the Dorchester Church Records under date of February 5, 1681, \n(p. 87) is the follo^^nng entry relating to the case of Mary Modesly, her \noffence beings similar to that of Temperance Bondish : — \" She -vs^as \n\n\n\".4 PRODIGIE OF PRIDEr 755 \n\nThe case of Samuel Tompson was of a different \ncharacter from that of Temperance Bondish. This \nindividual, though he bore the same surname, does not \nseem to have been related to the first clergyman of the \ntown. Apparently he was the son of Deacon Samuel \nTompson, who, born in 1630, was promoted to a seat \non the bench in front of the pulpit in 1679, while his \nname appears on almost every page of the earlier \nrecords of the town. Though the son of one of the \ndeacons of the church, Samuel Tompson, Jr., was, as \nelsewhere appears in this narrative, a man constitu- \ntionally otherwise minded, and he saw fit not only to \nnourish but openl}^ to proclaim a bitter personal ani- \nmosity to his minister. He was accordingly subjected \nto discipline in the manner following : — \n\n\" Samuel Tompson, a prodigie of pride, malice and arro- \ngance, being called before the church in the Meeting-house \nfor his absenting himselfe from the Publike Worshipe, un- \nlesse when any strangers preached ; his carriage being before \nthe Church proud and insolent, reviling and vilifying their \nPastor, at an horrible rate, and stileing him their priest, and \nthem a nest of wasps ; and they unanimously voted an ad- \nmonition, which was accordingly solemnly and in the name \nof Christ applied to him, wherein his sin and wickedness was \nlaid open by divers Scriptures for his conviction, and was \nwarned to repent, and after prayer to God this poor man \ngoes to the tavern to drink it down immediately, as he said, \n&c.\" \n\nThen, under date of 27th August, 1697, a month \nlater, Mr. Fiske proceeds : — \n\n\" He delivered to me an acknowledgment in a bit of paper \n\ncalled to answer for her sin. She did appeave but being- put to it to \nspeak by way of acknowledgment of the sin, she gave noe answer but \nwept whether for the shame or the sin that was not known, and the \nChurch was dismissed for that time.\" \n\n\n756 CHURCH DISCIPLINE. \n\nat my house in the presence of Leift. Marsh and Ensign \nPenniman, who he brought. 'T was read before the Church \nat a meeting appointed 12.8. They being not willing to \nmeet before. Leift. Col. Quincy gave his testimony against \nit, and said that his conversation did not agree therewith.\" \n\nThe next entry, also in the same handwriting, is \ndated 25th December, 1697 : — \n\n\" At the church Meeting further testimony came in against \nhim : the church generally by vote and voice declared him \nimpenitent, and I was to proceed to an ejection of him, by a \nsilent vote in Public. But I deferred it, partly because of \nthe severity of the wdnter, but chiefly because his pretended \noffence was chiefly against myself, and [he] had said I \nwould take all advantages against him, I deferred the same, \nand because 4 or 5 of the brethren did desire that he might \nbe called before the church to see if he would own what \nthey asserted : 'and having [notified] the church, he came, \nbrought an additional acknowledgment. Of 15 about 9 or \n10 voted to accept of it, &c.\" \n\nThis occurred on the 11th of April, 1698 ; and on \nthe 17th, Mr. Fiske proceeds, — \n\n\" After the end of the public worship his confession was \nread publickly, and the major part of the Church voted his \nabsolution.\" \n\nSamuel Tompson, Jr., seems thus through a divided \nvote of the church-members to have escaped excom- \nmunication, and it exemplifies either the power of the \norganization, or the efficacy of an accepted faith in \nhell-fire, that a man of this character, a frequenter of \nthe tavern and a chronic dissenter in town-meeting, \ndid not dare set the church at defiance and ignore its \naction. He publicly confessed. Joseph Belcher was \nless fortunate. His case came before the church in \nOctober and November, 1677 : — \n\n\nAN EXCOMMUNICATION. 757 \n\n\" Joseph Belcher, a member of this Church though not in \nfull communion, being sent for by the Church, after they \nhad resolved to inquire into the matter of scandal, so no- \ntoriously infamous both in Court and Country, by Deacon \nBasse and Samuel Tompson, to give an account of those \nthings ; they returning with this answer from him, — that \nhe would consider of it and send the Church word, the next \nSabbath, whether he would come or no ; on which return by \na Script, whereunto his name was subscribed, which he also \nowned to the elder, in private the weeke after, wherein he \nscornfully and impudently reflected upon the officer and \nchurch, and rudely refused to have anything to doe with us. \n[So], after considerable waiting, he persisting in his im- \npenitence and obstinacy, (the Elders met at Boston unani- \nmously advising thereto) the Church voted his not hearing \nof them, some few brethren not acting, doubting of his \nmembership but silent. He was proceeded against accord- \ning to Matthew 18, 17,^ and rejected.\" \n\nThe case of Isaac Theer, a child of the covenant \nand a member of the church, but not in full commu- \nnion, came up shortly after that of Mrs. Temperance \nBondish was disposed of. He it seems had been con- \nvicted of \" notorious scandalous thefts multiplied,\" \nfor some of which he \" suffered the law.\" Not con- \ntent with this, he was now proceeded against in a \nchurch way, and the brethren labored with him in \nprivate \" to bring him to a thorough sight and free \nand ingenuous confession of his sin ; as also for his \nabominably lying, changing his name, &c.\" Then \ncomes in the language of the record a scene vividly \nillustrative of the olden time. As the words are read \nthe simple village meeting-house, crowded on that \n\n1 \"And if he shall neglect to hear them, tell it unto the church : \nbut if he neg-lect to hear the church, let him be unto thee as an \nheathen man and a publican.\" \n\n\n758 CHURCH DISCIPLINE. \n\nMay afternoon with plainly dressed, hard-featured, \nMassachusetts men and women, conies back out of the \npast. In the pulpit is Parson Fiske ; before it on \ntheir bench sit the gray-haired deacons ; on the right \nof the minister as he faces his congregation are the \nmen, on the left are the women ; the boys look down \nw^th eager interest from the gallery. Then presently, \nafter the services are ended, Isaac Theer \n\n\" was called forth in public, moved pathetically to acknow- \nledge his sin, and publish his rej^entance, who came down \nand stood against the lower end of the fore-seat after he \nhad been prevented (by our shutting the east door) from \ngoing out ; stood impudently, and said indeed he owned his \nsin of stealing, was heartily sorry for it, begged pardon of \nGod and men, and hoped he should do so no more, which \nwas all he could be brought unto, saying his sin was already \nknown, and that there was no need to mention it in particu- \nlar, all with a remisse voice so that but few could hear him. \nThe Church at length gave their judgement against him, that \nhe was a notorious, scandalous sinner, and obstinately impeni- \ntent. And when I was proceeding to spread before him his \nsin and wickedness, he (as 't is probable) guessing what was \nlike to follow, turned about to goe out, and being desired \nand charged to tarry and hear what the church had to say \nto him, he flung out of doors, with an insolent manner, \nthough silent. Therefore the Pastor apj^lied himself to the \ncongregation, and having spread before them his sin, partly \nto vindicate the church's proceeding against him, and partly \nto warn others ; sentence was declared against him.\" \n\nIn 1690 Ebenezer Owen, the son of parents who \nhad long been in full communion, had gone as one \nof the thirteen men impressed from Braintree as the \ntown's quota in the Quebec expedition of that year. \nThe small-pox broke out and Owen died of it, being \none of four from Braintree thrown overboard off Cape \n\n\n*'AN INCESTUOUS SINNER.\" 759 \n\nAnn. He left a widow and a brother Josiali, who, to \nthe great scandal of the church, he being \" a child \nof the covenant,\" \" obtained, by fraud and wicked con- \ntrivance some marriage \" with her. The two were \nliving together when they were visited \" at his cottage \nby the Pastor of the Church with Major Quinsey and \nD. Tompson,\" who informed them of the \"appoint- \nment of an open confession of their sin in the congre- \ngation.\" Josiah Owen, the record goes on to say, was \n\" affectionately treated \" by the church emissaries, and \n\n\" after much discourse finding him obstinate and reflecting, \nhe was desired and charged to be present the next Sabbath \nbefore the Church, to hear what should be spoken to him, \nbut he boldly replied he should not come. And being after \ntreated by D. Tompson and his father to come, and taking \nhis opportunity to carry her away the last week, after a \nsolemn sermon preached on I Cor. 5. 3, 4 and 5,^ and \nprayers added, an account was given to the church and \ncongregation of him, the Brethren voting him to be an im- \npenitent, scandalous, wicked, incestuous sinner, and giving \ntheir consent that the sentence of excommunication sliould \nbe passed upon and declared against him, which was \nsolemnly performed by the Pastor of the Church according \nto the direction of the Apostle in the above mentioned text : \nthis 17 of January 1691/2.\" \n\nAnd so Josiah Owen and the widow of his brother \nEbenezer, who was \" thrown overboard at Cap an,\" \nrise up distinctly enough for an instant out of the \nBraintree church records of two centuries ago ; and \n\n^ 3. \" For I verily, as absent in body, but present in spirit, have \njudged already, as though I were present, concerning- him that hath so \ndone this deed. \n\n4. \" In the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, when ye are gathered \ntogether, and my spirit, with the power of our Lord Jesus Christ, \n\n5. \" To deliver such an one unto Satan for the destruction of the \nflesh, that the spirit may be saved in the day of the Lord Jesus.\" \n\n\n760 CHURCH DISCIPLINE. \n\nthen flit back into oblivion in company with Parson \nFiske, '' Major Quinsey,\" Governor Phipps and the \nQuebec expedition of 1G90. \n\nA few years later James Penniman causes much \ntrouble. *A member of the church though not in full \ncommunion, he was a man of \" notoriously scandalous \nlife,\" noted for his \" unchristian carriage towards his \nwife, and frequent excessive drinking.\" When called \nbefore the congregation and allowed to speak in his \nown vindication, \" he behaved himself very insolently, \nand was far from discovering any signs of true re- \npentance.\" Unanimously voted guilty, he was laid \nunder solemn admonition. This was in 1713 ; but, \nas the years went on, James Penniman did not walk \nmore correctly, so in April, 1722, it was proposed to \nexcommunicate him. This seems to have thoroughly \nfrightened the worthless fellow, and the record goes \non : — \n\n\" Sabbath day, April 4, 1722. This day he presented a \nconfession which was read before the Congregation, and \nprayed that they would wait upon him a while longer, which \nthe Church consented to, and he was again publicly ad- \nmonished and warned against persisting in the neglect of \nPublic Worship, against Idleness, Drunkenness and Lying ; \nand he gave some slender hopes of Reformation, seemed \nto be considerably affected, and behaved himself tolerably \nwell.\" \n\n\" May 26, 1723. The brethren of the Church met to- \ngether to consider what is further necessary to be done by \nthe Church towards the reformation of James Penniman. \nHe being present desired their patience towards him, and \noffered a trifling confession, which was read, but not ac- \ncepted by the brethren, because he manifested no sign of \ntrue repentance thereof : they came to (I think) a unani- \nmous vote that he should be cast out of the Church for his \n\n\nA PUBLIC CONFESSION. 761 \n\nincorrigibleness in his evil waies, whenever I shall see good \nto do it, and I promised to wait upon him some time, to see \nhow he would behave himself before I proceeded against \nhim.* \n\n\"January 26, 1723/4, Lord's-day. In the afternoon, \nafter a sermon on I Cor. v. 5,^ James Penniman persisted in \na course of Idleness, Drunkenness, and in a neglect of the \nPublic Worship, &c., had the fearful sentence of excom- \nmunication pronounced upon him.\" \n\nIn 1723 Joseph Parmenter was the town clerk, and \nas such the town voted him the sum of twenty shil- \nlings, worth about i>1.25 in silver, for his services as \nsuch during the year. Possibly there may have been \ntwo Joseph Parmenters in Braintree at that time, as a \nlittle earlier there were certainly two Samuel Tomp- \nsons, but the record says that on the 9th of Septem- \nber, 1722, \" Brother Joseph Parmenter made a public \nConfession, in the presence of the Congregation, for \nthe sin of drunkenness,\" and at a church meeting \nheld twelve days later to consider his case, \n\n\" the question was put wdiether they would accept his con- \nfession to restore him ; it passed in the negative, because he \nhas made several confessions of the sin, and is still unre- \nformed thereof : the Brethren concluded it proper to sus- \npend him from communion in the Lord's Supper, for his \nfurther humiliation and warning. He was accordingly sus- \npended. \n\n\"March 3d, 1723. Sabbath Evening. Brother Par- \nmenter having behaved himself well (for aught any that \nappears) since his suspension, was at his desire restored \nagain by a vote of the brethren, 7iemine C07itradicente.\" \n\n^ See the similar case of Consider Atherton, Dorchester Church Rec- \nords, 96-7. \n\n^ 5. To deliver such an one nnto Satan for the destrnction of the \nflesh, that the spirit may be saved in the day of the Lord Jesus. \n\n\n762 CHURCH DISCIPLINE. \n\nIt will be noticed that the action last recorded took \nplace on the 3d of March, 1723. The next day the \nannual town-meeting was held, at which *' the inhab- \nitants of Braintree being Lawfully Assembled then \nchose John Quincey Esq. moderator for that day. \nThey then chose Joseph Parmenter clerk for the year \nensuing by lifting up their hands.\" \n\nThe last public confession recorded as made before \nthe North Precinct church was on the 20th of Janu- \nary, 1740 ; and the last recorded case of discipline, \nexcept that of Ebenezer Adams already referred to,^ \nwas on the 25th of October, 1741, when Eleazer \nVeazie was suspended by formal vote from the com- \nmunion '' for his disorderly unchristian life and neg- \nlecting to hear the Church.\" \n\nThe facts which have been stated and the examples \ngiven suffice to illustrate the powder of church disci- \npline in the colonial period, and the way it was made \nto enter into the every-day life of that people. It w^as \na direct inheritance from the original church and the \nmother country, for Pepys notes down in his diary for \na Sunday in 1665 how he went by coach \" to church \nfour miles off, where a pretty good sermon and a \ndeclaration of penitence of a man that had undergone \nthe church's censure for his wicked life.\" ^ The prac- \ntice was continued much longer in other parts of \nMassachusetts, but it wholly died out in Braintree \nunder the easy-going pastorate of the Rev. Anthony \nWibird before the revolutionary troubles began. \nJust in the degree the political machinery assumed \nnew and larger functions, the ecclesiastical machinery \nfell into disuse. So far as Braintree was concerned, \n\n1 Supra, 640. \n\n2 Bliss, Colonial Times on Buzzard's Bay, 142, 155. \n\n\nREACTION. 763 \n\nthe change was clearly defined, and it took place in \n1744, at the close of the Hancock pastorate. Before \nthat, the church was greater than the town-meeting ; \nafter that, church discipline ceased to make itself felt, \nand the fervor of religious feeling cooled rapidly \nunder the reaction which followed \" the Great Awak- \nening.\" \n\n\nCHAPTER XI. \n\nTHE TRAINING-FIELD AND THE SCHOOL-HOUSE. \n\nIn mentioning the muster-field among the great \nformative influences of New England, it may well be \nquestioned whether John Adams did not give to that \nfield an undue importance. Certainly there are in \nthe Braintree records few traces of it as an active \neducational force. Whatever else they were, the New \nEnglanders were not a military race. On the ocean \nthey w^ere at home ; and the hardy mariners who, as \nBurke expressed it, pursued their gigantic game \n\" among the tumbling mountains of ice,\" and \" drew \nthe line and struck the harpoon on the coast of Af- \nrica,\"— these same men, skilful, alert and venture- \nsome upon their element, have never failed to assert a \nbrilliant supremacy in maritime warfare. But, though \nrepeatedly in the course of its history engaged in con- \nflicts the brunt of which was sturdily assumed. New \nEngland proper has never yet produced any consid- \nerable military genius. Church and Pepperell, Putnam, \nAllen, Knox, Stark, Lincoln, and even Greene, are \nnames of only local note ; while during the war of the \nRebellion the great leaders from the New England stock \nwere born and bred far in the interior of the conti- \nnent. Not one New England soldier achieved renown. \n\nAs a people the New Englanders do not take kindly \nto camp life. When forced to it, they have always \nfought in a dogged, intelligent sort of way, just as \n\n\nTHE TRAINING-FIELD. T65 \n\nthey fought at Lexington and Bunker's Hill ; im- \npelled, as it were, by a consciousness that the situa- \ntion was one of their own making, and they proposed \nto see the thing through. But to disband a New \nEngland army has never proved a difficult or delicate \ntask ; for, once the work in hand is done, the camp \nquietly and joyously dissolves of itself. An army of \nYankee mercenaries sounds like a contradiction in \nterms. Accordingly, though the Suffolk regiment \nexisted as a military organization through a century \nof colonial life, and the Braintree companies were \nalways a part of it, there is no reason to suppose that \nit was ever an effective force. Commissions in it \nwere eagerly sought, and were intrigued for, and the \ntitles of captain, lieutenant and ensign are continually \nmet with in the records : but, except in time of mili- \ntary excitement, the training-days were few and far \napart ; and partook apparently more of the character \nof a rough country jollification than of war. Cer- \ntainly, when Washington took command of the pro- \nvincial army at Cambridge, neither its discipline nor \nits equipment bespoke a martial race. It was little \nmore than a mob of intelligent men, organized by \nlocalities, and, as sportsmen, accustomed from youth \nto the handling of guns. \n\nThe training-field may have been overestimated as \na factor in the making of New England, but to over- \nestimate the influence of the school in that making \nwould be difficult. It stands next below the churoli \nin the earlier period, and above it in the more recent. \nPrior to 1830 it was below it. There are entries in \nthe Braintree records which indicate that a public \nLatin school was established in the town at a very \nearly period, in the neighborhood, indeed, of 1645, \n\n\n766 THE SCHOOL-HOUSE. \n\nthough the exact date cannot now be fixed; yet In \n1735 the records refer to \" a Free Latin School \" \nwhich had then been kept by the town \"for about \nninety years ; \" and in 1645 Winthrop made note of \nthe fact that \" divers free Schools were erected, as at \nRoxbury, . . . the charge to be by yearly contribu- \ntion, either by voluntary allowance, or by rate of \nsuch as refused, &c., and . . . other towns did the \nlike, providing maintenance by several means.\" In \n1719 Roxbury and Braintree were classed together \namong the towns of Suffolk county as \" noted for \ntheir Free-Schools,\" ^ and Braintree may, therefore, \nhave been one of the \" other towns \" referred to by \nWinthrop, though it is certain that even two years \nlater, in 1647, to use the language of the famous colo- \nnial law of that year, the Lord had not increased the \ninhabitants of the town '' to the number of one hun- \ndred families,\" necessitating the setting up of \" a \ngrammar school, the master thereof to be able to in- \nstruct youth so far as they may be fitted for the Uni- \nversity, ... to the end that learning may not be \nburied in the graves of our forefathers.\" Indeed, it \nmay well be doubted whether at that time Braintree \nyet numbered even those \" fifty households \" pre- \nscribed by the same law as the point at which every \ntownship should designate some one ''to teach all \nchildren to read and write.\" None the less, the town \nrecords indicate that even then, with a population of \nscarcely three hundred souls, Braintree did maintain \nwithin its limits some sort of a school in which youths \nwere prepared for college when those might be ad- \nmitted who were \"able to read Tully, or such like \nclassical author, extempore, . . . and decline per- \n^ Neal, Hist, of New England, ii. 229. \n\n\nA FREE LATIN SCHOOL. 767 \n\nfectly the paradigms of nouns and verbs in the Greek \ntongue : \" but at this point the record stops, throw- \nin sf no lij^ht on the source from whence \" the mainte- \nnance \" of this institution was drawn ; though in \n1740 an annual rent of X142, worth in the currency \nof that day a quarter part of that amount in silver \nmoney, was then derived from the Coddington school- \nland,^ and it was stated that from the rent of this land \nthe town had \" reaped great benefit in good schools \nfor many years past.\" It is a fact worthy of notice, \nalso, that during the first century of the town's his- \ntory, which was also the distinctly formative colonial \nperiod, extending from about the time of Winthroji's \ndeath (1649) nearly to the beginning of the final \nFrench wars (1744), — during this century no less \nthan forty-nine young men, prepared either at the \n\" Free Latin School \" or elsewhere, are said to have \nentered college from Braintree, forty-seven of whom \nwere from the North Precinct church. Consider- \ning the extreme poverty of the period, and the fact \nthat even at its close the town scarcely numbered a \npopulation of 1,500 souls, having begun with about \n200, such a record of those seeking a university edu- \ncation is significant. In those early days also, in \nproportion to its means, Braintree town was more than \na liberal, it was a munificent benefactor of the col- \nlege ; for when, in 1669, the condition of the semi- \nnary was critical and apparently hopeless, — when its \nbuildings were pronounced \" ruinous and almost ir- \nreparable,\" and it was declared that without a new \nbuilding its situation was desperate, — in this great \nemergency Braintree was one of the towns which re- \nsponded most liberally to \" the loud groans of the \n1 Supra, 546. \n\n\n768 THE SCHOOL-HOUSE. \n\nsinking College,\" contributing to \" erecting a new \nCollege\" the sum of <£87 14s. 6d.,^ an amount than \nwhich four places only in the jDrovince gave more. \nNor is it easy now to understand what could have in- \nduced those composing a community the size Braintree \nthen was to make so large a gift, or how they could \nhave afforded to do so. In proportion to population, \nsupposing the wealth per capita to have been as large \nthen as it is now, such a contribution was the equiva- \nlent of f 9,000 from the Quincy of to-day ; but in reality \nit is not unsafe to say that in proportion to accumu- \nlated wealth the gift of $90,000 would mean less \nto those now inhabiting the four towns into which \nthe Braintree of 1669 has been divided, than the \npoor $292.43 meant then. That people gave of their \nlittle.2 \n\n1 Quincy, Harvard University, i. 29, 30, 508. \n\n2 As there is no reference made in the town records to any gift of \nthis nature, it must apparently have been made through the church, \nor as the result of voluntary individual action. The proportion given \nin the text between the original gift and a corresponding gift at the \npresent time seems so excessive that it is only proper to give the data \non which the estimate is based. The popiilation of Braintree in 1669 \nwas about 550, and the gift to the college ($292.43) represented as near \nas may be fifty-five cents to an inhabitant, or one and two thirds days' \nlabor, the ordinary wages then being two shillings, or thirty-three \ncents a day. The population of the same territory now is 28,000, and \nthe ordinary day's wages may be computed at 61,75. The wages for \none day and two thirds of a population of 28,000 would, therefore, be \n$81,665.00. \n\nAgain, in 1669 the entire town and parish assessment of Braintree \ndid not exceed £150, or $500, which was raised only with extreme \ndifficulty, being paid partly in money, partly in kind. The gift to \nthe college amounted, therefore, to sixty per cent, of one annual tax \nlevy. In 1889-90 the annual tax levy of the four towns into which \nold Braintree has been divided, amounted to over $310,000.00, paid in \nmoney, and without apparent inconvenience to the people paying it. \nSixty per cent, of this amount would have been $186,000, a sum far \nlarger than the estimate in the text. \n\n\nTHE SCHOOLMASTER. 769 \n\nThe earliest village school-house in Braintree, which \nmust have been i\\ structure of the humblest descrip- \ntion, stood at the side of the Plymouth highway, or \nmain thoroughfare of the settlement, and not far from \nthe meeting-house. When it w^as built nowhere ap- \npears, but in 1679 it was referred to as a landmark, \nand does not then seem to have been new ; in the still \nearlier days, such teaching as the children got they \nmust have received at home, or in the house where \nsome temporary teacher lodged. At last in 1679, \nthirty years after the gathering of the church, the \ntown agreed with Benjamin Tompson that he should \nbe schoolmaster, receiving for his services the rent of \n\" the Towne land,\" estimated at £15 a year, and a \nfurther sum, to be paid out of the town rate, sufficient \nto secure him an annual salary of £30, or a third part \nof the Rev. Mr. Fiske's contract stipend, which was \npayable to the latter at that time \" in countrey pay at \ncountrey prise.'* Unlike the clergyman, the school- \nmaster in this case did not look for sustenance merely \nto his salary ; but, having graduated at Harvard six- \nteen years before, he had since been endeavoring to \nsupport himself as a physician, and sought by teach- \ning to eke out an insufficient professional income. \nYet even this school was not free, for part of the \nagreement with Tompson was \"that every child should \ncarry into the school master halfe a cord of wood be- \nside the quarter money every yeare ; \" and twenty \nyears later, in 1700, the nature of the contract was \nmore specifically defined by a vote providing that \n\" every schollar shall pay for his entry Into the school \none shilling and so successively for every quarter for \nthe whole year if he shall goe more than one quarter, \nand this shall be a part of the school sallary to be paid \n\n\n770 THE SCHOOL-HOUSE. \n\nunto the schoolmaster, and he to give an account of \nall that came to the Selectmen.\" A year later yet \nmore definite provision was made, for, the salary still \nstanding at <£30, the town voted that any \" parent or \nmaster \" sending a child to school pay the town treas- \nurer for the support of the school five shillings a year, \nand proportionally for any part thereof ; but, if such \n\" parent or master \" lived in another town, the pay- \nment in such case should be twenty shillings. The \nselectmen were further empowered to abate any part \nor the whole of this payment on the application of \n\" any poor persons in this Town who shall find them- \nselves unable to pay,\" and any deficiency over and \nabove '' the Rent of the Town Lands and the head \nmoney of the Schollars shall be raised by a Town Rate \nequally proportioned upon the Inhabitants.\" And \nthis, the vote passed in 1701, sixty-one years after the \nincorporation of Braintree, seems to have been the \ninitial step in the introduction there of a free public \nschool system. Prior to that time, schooling was \napparently paid for in money or in produce by those \nimmediately deriving advantage from it ; for, not only \nin Tompson's day, but thirty-five years later, in 1715, \nthe town voted \" that all Parents or masters of all \nchildren or servants going to schools shall deliver into \nthe present Schoolmaster, for the use of the School- \nhouse, three foot of cord wood to be the proportion of \neach, child or servant for this year ; \" a change from \nthe vote of 1710, under which the master was \" im- \npowered to demand a Load of wood of each boy that \ncomes to school this winter.\" The explanation of so \nliberal a provision of fuel is probably to be looked \nfor in Samuel Maverick's statement that, during the \nearlier colonial period, Braintree subsisted \" by rais- \n\n\nBENJAMIN TOMPSON. 771 \n\ning provisions, and furnishing Boston with wood,\" — \nwood, in other words, was *' countrey pay at countrey \nprise,\" and those furnishing it paid in this way for \nthe schooling of children and servants ; no scholars, \nuntil the year 1701, being exempted from any pay- \nment at all. But, from and after 1701, the other \npolicy prevailed, the cases of exemption increased, and \na steadily growing part of the total school expenses \nwas \" Raised by a Town Rate equally proportioned \nupon the Inhabitants.\" \n\nBenjamin Tompson, Braintree's first schoolmaster \nand son of its earliest minister, has since been referred \nto as \" an eminent and learned man,\" and, though this \njudgment may be open to question, there is little doubt \nhe was what is known as \" a character,\" — he also, \nlike his father, was subject to \" sullen fits,\" and in \nthem was apt to be \" full of matter.\" Born in 1642, \nand graduated from Harvard in 1662, he seems, with \nintermissions during which others filled his place with \nmore or less acceptance on the part of the town, to \nhave kept the Braintree school from 1678 to 1704, a \nperiod of twenty-five years.^ In 1699 he got into a \ncontroversy with the town in reference to the payment \nof his salary, and presently, after appointing a com- \nmittee to defend in case of prosecution, the inhabitants \n\n1 Benjamin Tompson had previously (1671-74) kept the school at \nCharlestown, and is spoken of by Mr. Frothingham in his history of \nthat town (p. 177) as \" a celebrated teacher.\" The following were \nthe terms on which he taught : — \n\n\"1. That he shall be paid thirty pounds per anniun by the town, \nand to receive twenty shillings a year from each particular scholar \nthat he shall teach, to be paid hini by those who send children to him \nto school. \n\n\"2. That he shall prepare such youth as are capable of it for the \ncollege, with learning answerable. \n\n\" 3. That he shall teach to read, write, and cypher.\" \n\n\n772 THE SCHOOL-HOUSE. \n\nvoted to allow '' Mr. Benjamin Tompson \" five pounds \nfor a discharge in full, '' and also that John Ruggles, \nSen., and Lt. Samuel Penniman should go and make \nthe tender thereof unto him.\" The committee per- \nformed the duty assigned to them, and, \" that all may- \nissue in love,\" Tompson, accepting the five pounds \ntendered him, signed '' a mutual and everlasting dis- \ncharge.\" Remaining in Braintree until as late as \n1710, Tompson was the town clerk as well as its physi- \ncian and schoolmaster, and the records, written in no \nunscholarly hand, were kept by him from 1690 to \n1710 ; yet his wife witnessed her signature with a \ncross. An erudite man, he was fond of Latinity, and \nin 1693 made entry of the births of all his nine chil- \ndren, going back to 1670, and piously added these \nwords : — \"Quos omnes, Deus omnipotens, pro unige- \nuiti filii sui ac salvatoris nostri meritis, vita eterna \ndignetur.\" ^ \n\nA successor in the office of town clerk recorded of Mr. \nTompson, that, a \" Practitioner of Physick for above \nthirty years, during which time hee kept a Grammar \nSchool in Boston, Charlestowne and Braintry, having \nleft behind him a weary world, eight children, twenty- \neight grand children (he) deceased April 13th, 1714, \nand lieth buried in Roxbury, Atatis sue, 72.\" In the \nepitaph inscribed on his tombstone he is also referred \nto as \" ye Renouned Poet of N. Engl.\" Born under \na New England sky and amid Calvinistic surroundings, \nBenjamin Tompson was a contemporary of Dryden, \nAddison and Pope ; but, unfortunately, though ad- \ndicted to versification, the results of his labor were to \nthe full as devoid of imagination as they are of metre. \n\n^ \" Whom all, may Almighty God, through the merits of his only \nbegotten Son and our Saviour, deem worthy of life everlasting.\" \n\n\n\" YE RENOUNED POET OF N. ENGLr 773 \n\nHalting bacll}^ even the best of his lines are suggestive \nboth of paucity of thought and of the exigencies of \nrhyme. When Cotton Mather published the Mag- \nnalia, Tompson wrote to him some verses of a compli- \nmentary character, which are now printed with it. \nThey contain one good line, in which, referring to the \n\" ancient names,\" among them his father's, recorded in \nMather's pages, the writer says they are \n\n\" Like gems on Aaron's costly \"breast-plate set.\" \n\nTompson's other contribution to the Magnalia con- \nsisted of a long copy of rhymed and more or less me- \ntrical lines in honor of the Rev. Samuel Whiting, of \nLynn, an eminent seventeenth century divine, of whom \nit is recorded he wrote two books, in one of which he \ndeveloped thirty-two distinct doctrines out of Abra- \nham's prayer in the eighteenth chapter of Genesis ; \nwhile in the other, more successful yet, he developed no \nless than forty-two such distinct doctrines out of the \npromise of the Lord contained in the fourteen verses of \nthe fifty-eighth chapter of Isaiah. Of him Benjamin \nTompson, \" ye Renouned Poet of N. Engl.,\" wrote : — \n\n\" Such awful gravity this doctor us'd \nAs if an angel every word infus'd. \nNo turgent stile, but Asiatic store ; \nConduits were almost full, seldom run o'er \nThe banks of Time : come visit when you will, \nThe streams of nectar were descending still. \nMuch like Septemfluous Nilies, rising so, \nHe watered Christians round, and made them grow.\" \n\n\" Should half his sentences be truly numbered, \nAnd weighed in wisdom's scales, 't would spoil a Lombard ; \n\n\" The loss of such an one would fetch a tear \nFrom Niobe herself, if she were here.\" \n\nBut, returning to Benjamin Tompson, the building \n\n\n774 THE SCHOOL-HOUSE. \n\nin which he taught, and within the walls of which all \nthe children of the town gathered, measured twenty- \nfeet by sixteen, \" and seven foot between joynts.\" In \n1715 it had grown old and was pronounced unfit to \nrepair, and the town, evidently much agitated over the \nissue, voted to erect two new houses, one \" for the \nacomidatiug of a grammar School \" not far from the \nNorth Meeting-house, and the other \" a convenient \nSchool house for writing and reading \" near the meet- \ning-house, \" in the south end of this town ; \" then \" the \nuse of the old School house \" was given to \" Mr. Ben- \njamin Webb \" (excepting the stone and brick) \" for \nthe securing of his hay till the first of May next. . . . \nafter which the said old house was sold by the com- \nmittee to the said Benjamin Webb for three pounds, \npaid to the Treasurer.\" \n\nThe history of the Braintree schools, no less than \nthat of the church, shows in a clear, striking way how \nslow was the process of development during the colo- \nnial period, and how that period, — the New England \nchrysalis stage, — instead of ending with the Revo- \nlution, lasted down even to the year 1830. It is not \ntoo much to say that for one hundred and ninety \nyears — through the lives of six generations of those \nborn on the soil — the same identical system was \npursued with regard to the schools and in them, the \ndifference being only in degree and detail. First \npopulation spread, the original town becoming the \nNorth Precinct, and the original town school the \ngrammar school ; then an elementary school, in which \nreading and writing were taught, was provided for \nthe outlying districts. Two generations passed away \nwhile this phase of development was working itself \nout. The precinct meanwhile grew, and in due pro- \n\n\nTHE CHRYSALIS STAGE. 775 \n\ncess of time became a town ; but this process required \neighty years, and during those eighty years the old \nsystem was continued, almost unchanged. About \nthe year 1720, the practice of exacting payment from \nthe parents or master of each child taught was aban- \ndoned, the whole expense of maintaining the schools \nbecoming a charge upon the town ; but the selectmen \nstill engaged the teacher, over whom and whose \nmethods no supervision seems to have been exer- \ncised. In 1720 the master was paid thirty-four \npounds a year ; he had been paid thirty pounds in \n1680, and he was paid only seventy-five pounds in \n1792. The school-house of 1697 measured twenty feet \nby sixteen ; the school-house built nearly a century \nlater, in 1793, \"on the training-field\" and opposite \nthe meeting-house, contained one large school-room \nonly, measuring twenty-eight feet by twenty, and its \ncost was estimated at ninety pounds. In 1815 this \nbuilding was burned, and another was constructed in \n1817 to serve both as town-hall and school-house. It \nmeasured twenty-five feet by fifty, and cost a little \nmore than i2,000. It was the last structure of the \ncolonial period, — the chrysalis stage was near its end, \nand the integument was soon to be rent. \n\nThe first symptom of differentiation in school mat- \nters took place in 1717, when provision was made for \nelementary instruction, independent of the grammar \nschool, in the South Precinct. Two years later, as \npopulation spread yet more, the experiment of making \nthis school peripatetic in character was attempted, and \nit was voted that it \" may be moved into more than \none place.\" In 1757 the same experiment was tried \nwith the grammar school, which it was provided should \nthe ensuing year \" be kept the one half of the time in \n\n\n770 THE SCHOOL-HOUSE. \n\nthe North Precinct, the other half in the Middle Pre- \ncinct ; \" while '^ an Equal sum as shall be necessary for \nthe maintaining a Grannnar School be Employed under \nthe Direction of the Selectmen for writting and Read- \ning Schools in the several parts of the North and ^lid- \ndie Precincts.\" In 1739 a species of special school \ncommittee had been provided, at the head of which \nCol. John Quincy was placed, which was \" Impowered \nto provide a School Master,\" and \" to order the time \nand place when the school shall be kept in each pre- \ncinct ; \" but, the very next year, \" after some debate \nthereon,\" it was ordered — '' That the affair of the \nSchools be regulated by the Selectmen, In all things \nas heretofore.\" And so the thing went on from year \nto year through nearly a centur}^ every possible crude \nexperiment and makeshift being tried in turn, — what \nwas attempted one year being abandoned the next, \nwhile the grammar school served as a sort of a shuttle- \ncock, as it shot about here and there under the impacts \nof local jealousy and sectional requirement. It was \nthis chronic condition of affairs which, as will pres- \nently be seen, was at last the immediate and osten- \nsible cause of the disruption of the original town. \n\nEven after the separation took place, and the neces- \nsary remedy for the old condition of affairs was thought \nto have been applied, the school facilities of the new \ntown long remained of the most primitive character. \nFor eight years, and until 1800, the ancient precinct \nfeeling controlled the policy of Quincy so that all chil- \ndren whose parents desired them to be taught had to \nfind their own way to the centre. In a town the size \nof Quincy, this implied a daily walk measured in many \ncases by miles. For the smaller children such a walk \nwas generally found too severe, and provision was \n\n\nDIFFERENTIATION. Ill \n\nmade for local or '^ dame \" schools, for which spe- \ncific sums varying from four dollars to forty dollars \nwere annually appropriated. Yet in the year 1820 \nthe whole amount voted for the support of the centre \nschool, \" including ink and fuel,\" as well as the pay of \nboth a male and a female teacher, was but $692. It \nis now, therefore, small matter for surprise that a \ncommittee then reported the school-room so crowded \nthat the scholars, two hundred and four in number, \n\" were obliged to wait one for the other for seats, not- \nwithstanding the master gave up his desk, and used \nevery other means in his power to accommodate them.\" \nStill the town had not yet reached the stage of differ- \nentiation. With the innate conservatism of a commu- \nnity grown up under majority government, it clung to \nthe primitive customs ; and the committee went on to \nsubmit a plan for certain alterations, at an estimated \ncost of §200, by which two hundred and fifty scholars \nwere to be brought together in one room and under \none master, '' with an assistant when necessary.\" \nThen in 1825 the master was censured for not attend- \ning more faithfully to his duties ; whereupon he re- \nplied that he was not paid enough ($450 per annum) \nto support him, but if the town would increase his sal- \nary to i500 he would devote all his time to the schools. \nThis addition to the master's salary increased the total \nappropriation to $745, leaving $245 with which to \npay the female assistant and defray all other school \ncharges. At last, in 1829, the condition of affairs \nhad become intolerable, and provision was made for \nthe district system. The chrysalis stage was over. \n\nIt is needless to speak at length of the old town \nschool of Braintree, and the system of instruction pur- \nsued in it, for the schools of Braintree were like the \n\n\n778 THE SCHOOL-HOUSE. \n\nschools of most other Massachusetts towns similarly \nplaced, and those schools have been often described. \nThey were wholly primitive, and the New England \nPrimer, with the Rev. John Cotton's Spiritual Milk \nfor American Babes, affords for modern eyes a suffi- \ncient glimpse of them. In the pages of that odd little \nvolume, — a volume used as a text-book by six gen- \nerations of Massachusetts progeny, — besides the sin- \ngular results achieved by native artists in their efforts \nto portray to the physical eye the experiences of Eli- \njah, Job, Lot, Obadiah, Timothy, Zaccheus and other \nHebrew characters of Biblical fame, may still be \nstudied the intellectual nutriment once deemed most \nappropriate for New England infants who were acquir- \ning a knowledge of the alphabet. They were cheered \nand inspired by being taught verses like these : — \n\n\" There is a dreadful fiery hell, \nWhere wicked ones must always dwell ; \nThere is a heaven full of joy, \nWhere goodly ones must always stay ; \nTo one of these my soul must fly, \nAs in a moment, when I die,\" \n\nAnd doctrine of this character was then emphasized \nand brought home to the childish imagination by dit- \nties like the following : — \n\n\" In the hurying place may see \nGraves shorter there than I, \nFrom death's arrest no age is free, \n\nYoung children too must die : \nMy God, may such an awful sight \nAwakening be to me.\" \n\nThe infant mind having through such agencies as \nthis been brought into a thoroughly receptive condi- \ntion, the Rev. John Cotton then took the matter in \n\n\n''MILK FOR BABES.\" 779 \n\n\nband, and thus administered to the babes what was \nregarded as milk \" for their Souls Nourishment, drawn \nout of the Breasts of both Testaments : \" — \n\n\n\" Q. What is done for you in the Lord's supper ? \n\n\" A. In the Lord's supper, the receiving of the bread \nbroken and the wine poured out is a sign and seal of my \nreceiving the communion of the body of Christ broken for \nme, and of his blood shed for me, and thereby of my growth \nin Christ and pardon and healing of my sins, of the fellow- \nship of the Spirit, of my strengthening and quickening in \ngrace, and of my sitting together with Christ on his throne \nof glory at the last judgment. \n\n\" Q. What is the reward that shall then be given ? \n\n\"A. The righteous shall go into life eternal, and the \nwicked shall be cast into everlasting fire with the devil and \nhis angels.\" \n\nThis is followed in the Primer by a familiar rhymed \n\" dialogue between Christ, Youth and the Devil,\" — \na sort of closing spiritual and educational divertise- \nment, in which Death is again introduced as saying to \nthe terrified child, — \n\n\" Thou hast thy God offended so, \nThy sovJ and body I '11 divide : \nThy body in the grave I '11 hide, \nAnd thy dear soul in Hell mvist lie \nWith Devils to Eternity. \n\n\"the conclusion. \n\n\" Thus end the days of woful youth, \nWho won't obey nor mind the truth ; \nNor hearken to what preachers say, \nBut do their parents disobey : \nThey in their youth go down to hell, \nUnder eternal wrath to dwell. \nMany don't live out half their days, \nFor cleaving unto sinful ways.\" \n\n\n780 THE SCHOOL-HOUSE. \n\nSuch in those da^s was the milk adjudged meet for \nbabes ; ^ and this was the okl-time primer of which it \nis asserted that there never has been printed in this \ncountry a book hiying' no chiim to inspiration, whose \ninfluence has been so extended and enduring as a \nmanual of religious instruction for the young, while \nsocieties were formed the sole purpose of which was to \nintroduce it into schools ! \n\nNo print or black-board or .map or motto adorned \nthe grimy, blackened walls of those primitive colonial \nschool-houses, in which the New England Primer was \nthe earliest text-book, but within their narrow limits \nwere crowded scores of children of both sexes and of \nevery age. Ranged twos and threes on benches, be- \nhind rude rows of desks cut and hacked and mutilated \nby the jackknives of successive generations, the larger \nscholars, among whom were full-grown young men and \nwomen, sat at the rear, the sexes on opposite sides, \nwhile the smallest of the little children occupied low \nbenches close to the teacher's chair. Great log^s of \nwood blazed in the fireplace, or later in stoves, one of \nwhich was at each end of the room, and before these \nthe scholars read and ciphered and wrote. The period \nwas not one of either refinement or sentiment, and both \nat home and in the school the rod — \" the rawhide \" — \nwas freely used ; nor did either sex or age afford im- \nmunity from corporal punishment which would now \nexcite indignation if inflicted on dogs. In the matter \nof instruction, the public records of the two preceding \ncenturies, as compared with those of the present cen- \n\n1 For the singular and morbid effects produced on-infant minds by \nthe terrorism of the colonial theology, see the ciirious passages in the \nSewall Diary of January 18, 1695-G (v. Mass. Hist. Soc. Coll. v. 410- \n20), the Magnolia, B. 6, ch. 7, App. Ex. IV. and, above all, Jonathan \nEdwards' Faithful Narrative, 05-72. \n\n\n''THE GOOD OLD TIMESr 781 \n\ntury, show clearly the increasing elevation of standard. \nThe town and precinct clerks certainly were not then, \nany more than they are now, chosen for conspicuous \nilliteracy, and the records prior to 1800 are conclusive \nas evidence of the instruction in writing given in the \npublic schools of the period ; nor is there any reason \nto suppose the instruction in other respects was better, \nor the results attained more creditable. In point of \nfact the children were neither taught much, nor were \nthey taught well ; for through life the mass of them, \nwhile they could do little more in the way of writing \nthan rudely scrawl their names, could never read with \nreal ease or rapidity, and could keep accounts only of \nthe simplest kind. As for arithmetical problems, the \nknowledge of them was limited to the elementary mul- \ntiplication, division, addition and subtraction. None \nthe less, after a fashion and to a limited extent, the \nBraintree school child, like the school children of all \nother Massachusetts towns, could read, could write \nand could cipher ; and for those days, as the world \nthen went, that was much. In itself, though the \nhighest of the time, the standard was not high ; nor \ndoes an examination of what has been handed down \nto us justify, or indeed afford any reasonable basis for, \nthe laudation so frequently indulged in of late over \nthe thoroughness of the ancient school methods, or the \nexcellent results achieved by them. It is well to extol \nthe simplicity and directness of what are known as \nthe good old times, and the New England schools of \nthe eighteenth century doubtless reflected the usages \nof the homes ; but the further familiarity with those \ntimes is pressed, the less alluring do their details and \nactualities appear, and the more do they tend to make \nthose living in the present contented with their lot. \n\n\n782 THE SCHOOL-HOUSE. \n\nBrutality, ignorance and coarseness have not yet van- \nished from the world, nor are they soon likely to van- \nish from it ; but it is safe to say that, if by any chance \nthe Brain tree village school of 1790 could for a sin- \ngle fortnight have been brought back to the Quincy \nof 1890, parents would in horror and astonishment \nhave kept their children at home until a town-meet- \ning, called at the shortest possible legal notice, could \nbe held ; and this meeting would probably have cid- \nminated in a riot, in the course of which school-house \nas well as school would have been summarily abated \nas a disgrace and a nuisance. \n\n\nCHAPTER XII. \n\nINTEMPERANCE AND IMMORALITY. \n\nWhen John Adams enumerated to Major Lang- \nbourne the educational institutions of Xew England, \nthere was one which he omitted to mention, which, \nfor good and ill, was hardly a less influential element \nin New England life and action than town-meetings, \ntraining-days, public schools or church gatherings. \nThat omitted institution was the country tavern. In \nthe days before railroads, mails and newspapers the \ntavern was the common gathering-place of the town, \nw^here the news was circulated and the events of the \nday discussed. The modern caucus is a substitute for \nit, for there the politics of the \\allage were arranged, \nand there the questions at issue between the colonies \nand the mother country were debated. From his \nearly life John Adams detested the public houses. \nHe declared that in them \" the time, the money, the \nhealth and the modesty of most that were young and \nmany old were wasted ; here diseases, ^ncious habits, \nbastards and legislators were frequently begotten.\" \nYet of their potency as a political educator and influ- \nence he was a living witness. More than thirty years \nafterwards he thus described one of these colonial \ntavern debates : — \n\n\" \"Within the course of the year before the meeting of \nCongress, in 1774, on a journey to some of our circuit \ncourts in Massachusetts, I stopped one niglit at a tavern in \n\n\n784 INTEMPERANCE AND IMMORALITY. \n\nShrewsbury, about forty miles from Boston, and as I was \ncold and wet, I sat down at a good fire in the bar-room to \ndry my greatcoat and saddlebags till a fire could be made \nin my chamber. There presently came in, one after another, \nhalf a dozen, or half a score, substantial yeomen of the \nneighborhood, who, sitting down to the fii'e after lighting \ntheir pipes, began a lively conversation upon politics. As I \nbelieved I was unknown to all of them, I sat in total silence \nto hear them. One said, ' The people of Boston are dis- \ntracted.' Another answered, 'No wonder the people of \nBoston are distracted. Oppression will make wise men \nmad.' A third said, ' What would you say if a fellow \nshould come to your house and tell you he was come to \ntake a list of your cattle, that Parliament might tax you \nfor them at so much a head ? And how should you feel if \nhe was to go and break open your barn, to take down your \noxen, cows, horses and sheep ? ' ' What should I say ? ' \nreplied the first; 'I would knock him in the head.' 'Well,' \nsaid a fourth, ' if Parliament can take away Mr. Hancock's \nwharf and Mr. Rowe's wharf, they can take away your \nbarn and my house.' After much more reasoning in this \nstyle, a fifth, who had as yet been silent, broke out, ' Well, \nit is high time for us to rebel ; we must rebel some time or \nother, and we had better rebel now than at any time to \ncome. If we put it off for ten or twenty years, and let \nthem go on as they have begun, they will get a strong party \namong us, and plague us a great deal more than they can \nnow. As yet, they have but a small party on their side.' \n... I mention this anecdote to show that the idea of \nindependence was familiar even among the common people \nmuch earlier than some persons pretend.\" \n\nThis is a reminiscence long after the event ; but it \nonly confirms what he wrote in 1761, describing what \nhe then daily saw going on before his eyes : — \n\n\" If you ride over this whole province you will find that \n\n\nAN INHERITED APPETITE. 785 \n\ntaverns are generally too numerous. ... In most country \ntowns in this country you will find almost every other house \nwith a sign of entertainment before it. If you call, you will \nfind dirt enough, very miserable accommodations of pro- \nvision and lodging for yourself and your horse. Yet, if \nyou sit the evening, you will find the house full of people \ndrinking drams, flip, toddy, carousing, swearing ; but es- \npecially plotting with the landlord to get him at the next \ntown-meeting an election either for selectman or represen- \ntative.\" \n\nLater in life John Adams was wont to say, it was in \nsilently listening to these tavern talks among farmers \nas he rode the circuits that he first came to realize \nthat American independence was both inevitable and \nclose at hand. But the school, though effective, was \ndangerous. The intemperance of the colonial period \nis a thing now difficult to realize ; and it seems to \nhave pervaded all classes from the clergy to the pau- \nper. In the earliest days, beer brewed from barley \nmalt was the usual table beverage, the ordinary and \nfree use of which had been brought over from Eng- \nland ; and the price was regulated by law, that sold \nat 3d. a quart of a quality carrying six bushels of \nmalt to the hogshead ; that at 2d., four bushels ; and \nthat at a penny, two bushels. But cider was the nat- \nural beverage of the soil, and, though more expensive \nthan beer at first, as orchards became common it \ngrew sufficiently cheap, inasmuch as in 1728, when \nan ounce of silver, the equivalent of f 1.20, was worth \neighteen shillings in currency, twelve shillings in cur- \nrency sufficed to buy a barrel of cider. Indeed, in \nbarrel quantities, cider at that time cost less than \neither Indian corn or carrots. Tea and coffee did not \ncome into common use as table beverages until a \n\n\n786 INTEMPERANCE AND IMMORALITY. \n\nmuch later period, and all through the eighteenth \ncentury the \" generality of the people with their vic- \ntuals\" drank cider. But the juice of the apple failed \nto satisfy that love of strong drink — that longing for \nalcoholic stimulant — which though the first settlers \nseem to have been temperate when compared with \ntheir descendants, the New Englander inherited direct \nfrom his Saxon ancestry. Craving something more \npotent, the West India trade soon supplied it. Here \nis an extract from a sermon of Increase Mather de- \nlivered in March, 1686, before a criminal awaiting \nexecution for murder, which tells the story : — \n\n\" It is an unhappy thing that later years a kind of strong \nDrink called Rum has been common amongst us, which the \npoorer sort of People, both in Town and Country, can \nmake themselves drunk with. They that are poor and \nwicked too, can for a penny or twopence make themselves \ndrunk : I wish to the Lord some Remedy may be thought \nof for the prevention of this evil.\" \n\nOne hundred and ten years later, speaking of the \nwork on his farm in Quincy, John Adams describes \nhow one of the hands got drinking, and he adds : — \n\n\" A terrible drunken distracted week he has made of the \nlast. A beast associating with the worst beasts in the \nneighborhood, running to all the shops and private houses, \nswilling brandy, wine and cider in quantities enough to \ndestroy him. If the ancients drank wine and rum as our \npeople drink rum and cider, it is no wonder we read of so \nmany possessed with devils.\" \n\nNot until after 1830 did the great temperance \nmovement make its influence potently felt, and for a \ncentury and a half, therefore, it is not too much to \nsay that \" rum \" was the bane of New England. \n\n\n''RUM AND cider:' 787 \n\nBraintree seems to have been scourged by it, even \nmore than most of her sister towns. At the very \ntime the town was incorporated, at the May General \nCourt of 1640, Martin Sanders, who a year before \nhad been \" alowed to keepe a house of intertainment \" \nat the Mount, and whose name was one of the eight \nsubscribed to the church covenant there, was \" alowed \nto draw wine at Braintree.\" In 1731 a new church \nedifice was \" raised \" and in the North Precinct rec- \nords is the vote already referred to, authorizing the \npurchase for the occasion of \" Bread Cheese Sugar \nRum Sider and Beer at the cost of the precinct.\" In \n1754 Tutor Flynt made the memorable journey from \nCambridge to Portsmouth. In addition to being a \ntutor, Mr. Flynt was then also a fellow of the corpo- \nration, and acted as clerk of the overseers. He had \nfor his companion an undergraduate, and was in his \nseventy-eighth year. There are few more amusing \nand instructive pictures of the manners and methods \nof travellers in eastern Massachusetts during the \neighteenth century than that contained in the account \nof this journey written by Tutor Flynt's companion ; ^ \nbut in that account there is nothing that sounds more \nsingular to the reader of to-day than the way in which \nthe venerable preceptor, travelling with the youthful \nstudent, took his \"nip of milk punch\" after they \npuUed up at the public house : and when, \" in fuU \nview of Clark's Tavern\" near Portsmouth, the old \ngentleman was tumbled headlong out of the chaise, \nnearly breaking his neck, he was revived by \" two or \nthree bowls of lemon punch, made pretty sweet,\" \nwhich, as they \" were pretty well charged with good \nold spirit \" made him \" very pleasant and sociable.\" \n1 Proc. Mass. Hist. Soc. 1878, pp. 5-11. \n\n\n788 INTEMPERANCE AND IMMORALITY. \n\nIn 1758 Samuel Qiiincy and John Adams were ad- \nmitted to the province bar. After the oath had been \nadministered on motion of Gridley and Pratt, the \nleading lawyers of their day, the two young men \n\"shook hands with the bar, and received their con- \ngratulations, and invited them over to Stone's to \ndrink some punch, where the most of us resorted, and \nhad a very cheerful chat.\" It is not easy to imagine \nleading counsel of to-day drinking with students in a \ntap-room. Again, in 1778 Count d'Estaing came to \nBoston with the French fleet. Mrs. Adams visited it, \nand could not sufficiently express her admiration of \nthe bearing of officers and men, which she said ought \nto make Americans \" blush at their own degeneracy of \nmanners.\" What delighted her most was, that \" not \none officer has been seen the least disguised with liq- \nuor since their arrival.\" \n\nSo bad had the condition of affairs become about \nthe year 1750 that John Adams declared that several \ntowns within his knowledge had \"at least a dozen \ntaverns and retailers.\" Suffolk County he asserted \nwas worse than any other, and in Braintree, within a \ncircuit of three miles, there were \" eight public houses, \nbesides one in the centre.\" Within three quarters of \na mile on the main road there were three taverns, be- \nsides retailers, or those who supplied the \" neighbor- \nhood with necessary liquors in small quantities and at \nthe cheapest rates.\" These houses, frequented as they \nwere by a \" tippling, nasty, vicious crew,\" had become \n\" the nurseries of our legislators,\" for there were \nmany who could \" be induced by flip and rum to vote \nfor any man whatever.\" Aroused to the necessit}^ of \ndoing something to restrain this growing evil, the \nyoung village lawyer had an article looking to a re- \n\n\nLICENSED HOUSES. 789 \n\nduction of the number of licensed houses inserted in \nthe warrant for the May town-meeting of 1761. A \nfull debate took place upon it, and a vote was passed, \nwhich is chiefly curious now as indicating what the \ncondition of affairs must have been for which this \nmeasure was regarded as one of reform ; for in it, \nafter reciting \" the present prevailing Depravity of \nManners, through the Land in General, and in this \nTown in particular, and the shameful neglect of Re- \nligious and Civil Duties,\" it was ordered that in future \nno persons should be licensed to sell spirituous liquors \nby retail in Braintree ; but one innholder, suitably \nselected, was to be \" approbated by the selectmen \" in \neach precinct. These three innholders were then to \nhave a monopoly of the business on condition that they \n\" oblidge themselves by written Instruments, under \ntheir Hands and Seals, to retail spirituous Liquors \nto the Town Inhabitants, as they shall have occasion \ntherefor, at the same price by the Gallon or smaller \nQuantity, as the same are usually sold, by Retail, in \nthe Town of Boston.\" \n\nIt hardly needs to be said that such a measure \nof reform was productive of no considerable result. \nRevolutionary troubles then shortly ensued, and John \nAdams was called away to larger fields of usefulness. \nLong afterwards, referring to this experience, he \nwrote : — \n\n\" Fifty-three years ago I was fired with a zeal, amount- \ning to enthusiasm, against ardent spirits, the multiplication \nof taverns, retailers, and dram-shops and tippling-houses. \nGrieved to the heart to see the number of idlers, thieves, \nsots and consumptive patients made for the use of physi- \ncians, in those infamous seminaries, I applied to the Court \nof Sessions, procured a committee of inspection and inquiry, \n\n\n790 INTEMPERANCE AND IMMORALITY. \n\nreduced the number of licensed houses, etc. But I only ac- \nquired the reputation of a hypocrite and an ambitious dema- \ngogue by it. The number of licensed houses was soon rein- \nstated, drams, gro<^ and sotting were not diminished, and \nremain to this day as deplorable as ever. You may as well \npreach to the Indians against rum as to our people.\" \n\nWhen John Adams made his futile attempt at tem- \nperance reform, and for seventy years thereafter, the \ntown in which he lived was as respects intemperance \nno better and no worse than her sister towns. In \nevery store in which West India goods were sold, and \nthere were no others, behind the counter stood the \ncasks of Jamaica and New England rum, of gin and \nbrandy. Their contents were sold by the gallon, the \nbottle or the glass. They were carried away, or drunk \non the spot. It was a regular, recognized branch of \ntrade ; and when during the Revolutijon Mrs. Adams \nsent a list of current prices to her husband, she always \nincluded rum, looking upon it as no less a farm staple \nthan meat or corn or molasses. Three shillings a gal- \nlon, or ninepence a quart, was a high price ; and John \nAdams wrote back to her from Philadelphia, \" Whis- \nkey is used here instead of rum, and I don't see but \nit is just as good.\" \n\nRum or whiskey for home and farm consumption \nwere here spoken of ; for among laboring men rum \nwas served out as a regular ration, and during the \nearly j^ears of the present century a gallon of it a \nmonth was considered a fair allowance for each field \nhand. It was used especially during the haying sea- \nson and at hog-killing ; for the latter it was mixed \nwith molasses and known as \" black-strap,\" while, \ncompounded for the former with cider, the result was \ncalled \" stone-wall.\" It seems, indeed, to have been \n\n\nTHE CORN-HUSKING. 791 \n\nan essential Ingredient in every form of rural festivity \nas well as labor. Take for instance the autumn corn- \nhuskings. These occasions are generally associated \nin popular tradition with the idea of red ears of corn \nand somewhat promiscuous consequent osculation. \nThe following is a more authentic account of the \nfavorite indulgence at one of these harvest festivals \nfrom a diary of events in the year 1767, the locality \nbeing Dedham, a neighboring town to Braintree, and \nthe day the 14tli of October : — \n\n\"' Made an husking Entertainm't. Possibly this leafe may \nlast a Century and fall into the hands of some inquisitive \nPerson for whose Entertainm't I will inform him that now \nthere is a Custom amongst us of making an Entertainment \nat husking of Indian Corn whereto all the neighboring \nSwains are invited and after the Corn is finished they like \nthe Hottentots give three Cheers or huzza's but cannot \ncarry in the husks without a Rhum bottle ; they feign great \nExertion but do nothing till Rhum enlivens them, when all \nis done in a trice, then after a hearty Meal about 10 at \nNight they go to their pastimes.\" ^ \n\nBut recurring to the regular use of spirits in con- \nnection with all agricultural work, it is not easy now \nto get any correct idea of what must have been the \nphysical condition of the average farm laborer during \nthe New England haying season of a century ago. \nHe worked with scythe or fork from ten to twelve \nhours of the July day, and the unnatural heart action \nnecessarily incident to exertion of this kind was then \nstimulated by draughts of cider reinforced by an in- \nfusion of New England rum. How, with blood natu- \nrally fevered by heat, and throat and tongue artificially \n\n1 The Ames Diary., Dedham Hist. Beg. ii. 98. See, also, Pattee, Old \nBraintree and Quincy, 05. \n\n\n792 INTEMPERANCE AND IMMORALITY. \n\ncoated by alcoholic stimulants, the laborer of those \ndays slept at all, after a day in the haying field, is \ndifficult to understand. Every rule of health or prin- \nciple of physiology, as now understood, was not only \ndisregarded but habitually set at defiance. Under the \nmidday heat of an almost vertical sun, men worked \nwith hardly an intermission, while such meat as they \nate was strongly impregnated with salt, and the crav- \ning of thirst was assuaged by draughts of a fiery stim- \nulant. Even as late as 1838 it was voted in Quincy \ntown-meeting that \" the paupers be allowed a temper- \nate use of ardent spirits when they work on the road \nor farm;\" while at about the same time a distin- \nguished Massachusetts divine gave as his reason for \njoining actively in the temperance movement that \namong his brethren in the ministry \" he knew forty- \nfour who drank so much as to affect their brains, and \nhe had assisted in putting four to bed on occasions \nlike ordinations.\" ^ \n\nUpon the main street of the Braintree North Pre- \ncinct, in its most thickly settled part, there were dur- \ning a large portion of the colonial period three taverns \nstanding at convenient points. They were buildings \nof a type still not uncommon in the more remote and \nolder New England towns. Two stories high, they \nfaced the road, and before them was the hitching-rail ; \nwhile stables and covered standing-sheds stretched \naway on either side or to the rear. A piazza or gal- \nlery ran along the front, on which sat in summer \nthose who most frequented the house ; while in winter \nthey gathered before the bar-room fires. The village \ntopers were as much recognized characters as the min- \nister and the magistrate. They remained so in Quincy \n\n1 Groton Historical Series, No. XVIII. 15. \n\n\nA CRY OF LAMENTATION. 798 \n\ndo\\vn to the beginning of the railroad period. The \nchildren all knew them, nor as they reeled through \nthe streets did they attract more than a passing glance. \nPrematurely old, they drank themselves into their \ngraves ; and another generation of the same sort suc- \nceeded them. \n\nAt a later period great numbers of the more en- \nergetic youth of the town went out to California and \nthe West, a portion of the New England migration. \nIt was astonishing and lamentable to note the destruc- \ntion then wrought by this inherited vice. Failure was \nthe rule ; and in the majority of cases the failure was \ndue to drink. In this matter it is easy to charge ex- \naggeration, and neither the gravestone nor the registry \nbear witness to the facts. Those who remember the \nold condition of affairs also are fast passing away. \nYet any man of middle life, who has talked of his \ntownspeople and of their families with a Massachu- \nsetts man or woman born near the close of the last \ncentury, has been exceptionally placed if he has not \nheard the same old tale of lamentation. As the name \nof one after another is recalled, the words \" He drank \nhimself to death \" seem so often repeated, that they \nsound at last not like the exception, but the rule. \n\nWhile it does not follow that in communities where \nthere is no intemperance crime is unknown, it may \nsafely be asserted that where there is drunkenness \nthere is vice. In New England the enforced industry, \nthe religious training, and the law-abiding habits of \nthe people during the colonial period modified to some \nextent the evils of drinkino-. The New Enolander \nwas neither an Irishman nor an Indian ; and so he did \nnot in his cups become fighting drunk like the first, \nor sodden drunk like the last. The habits and tradi- \n\n\n794 INTEMPERANCE AND IMMORALITY. \n\ntions and ingrained training of a race assert them- \nselves even through rum. Consequently, a Donny- \nbrook fair was in Yankee inebriety as unknown a \nfeature as a ]Mohawk war-dance. AVhen they were \nsober the people were not quarrelsome or lawless or \nshiftless; and consequently when they were drunk \nthey did not as a rule fight or ravish or murder : but \nthat the earlier generations in Massachusetts were \neither more law-abiding or more self-restrained than \nthe latter, is a proposition which accords neither with \ntradition nor with the reason of things. Where, in \na small comnumity, every class of which has been \nbrought up in a school of the severest economy, and \nwith a profound regard for the austere convention- \nalities of local public opinion, the eyes of all are upon \neach, the general scrutiny is a potent safeguard of \nmorals ; but while the habits of those days were sim- \npler than they now are, they were also essentially \ngrosser. It becomes, then, a question of standards ; \nfor the standard of morality, such as it is in any given \ncommunity, whether high or low, will always be ob- \nserved there, and very generally lived up to. \n\nWas the moral standard of the Massachusetts towns \nduring the colonial period high or low, as compared \nwith the standards at the same time in vogue else- \nwhere, or that now in vogue here ? — The answer to \nthis question is one by no means free from doubt. \nThe great essentials of popular morality — the cardi- \nnal virtues in a community — are cleanliness, truthful- \nness, temperance and chastity. As respects cleanli- \nness and that decency of living which distinguishes \nman from the brutes, though primitive if judged by \nmodern standards, the colonial New Englanrler con- \ntrasted favorably with other communities of the same \n\n\nCLEANLINESS AND TRUTHFULNESS. 795 \n\ntime, whether in America or in Europe. Decidedly- \nless archaic, he was regarded as somewhat unnecessa- \nrily disposed in speech and act to ignore what others \nwere accustomed to consider and treat as matter of \ncourse. Untruthfulness is an attribute of servility. \nThe New Englander never was servile. On the con- \ntrary, he was noted rather for the disagreeable, even \nwhen innocent, assertion of his equality. Accordingly, \nwhen he had recourse to falsehood, which was not in- \nfrequently the case, he had recourse to it, not as a \nsubterfuge or from fear, but in order to secure an ad- \nvantage, or save himself from loss. In this respect, \nwhile the New England standard was not high in it- \nself, it might have been much lower. To convict an \nopponent of falsehood — to brand him as a liar — was \nthe result most carefully held in view in every contro- \nversy ; and this fact in itself showed conclusively the \nhigh regard in which truthfulness was held. Never- \ntheless, as a race, the genuine and average New Eng- \nlander probably felt more annoyance, or perhaps pain, \nat his detection in a falsehoood, than remorse at the \nthing itself. In this respect he was in the earlier \nstages of moral development. Of the lack of temper- \nance in colonial Massachusetts, at least during the \nwhole of the eighteenth century, something has already \nbeen said, and more will have to be said presently ; so \nthat the question of chastity, or sexual continence, \nalone remains now to be considered. \n\nThe records of its ch arches tell the story of the \nmoral life and moral standards prevailing in the towns \nof Massachusetts betw^een the years 1650 and 1800. \nIf made public, those records would reveal much which \nwould now excite surprise, and, in some quarters, dis- \nmay ; but in studying their pages it is necessary to \n\n\n796 INTEMPERANCE AND IMMORALITY. \n\nbear several things constantly in mind, not least im- \nportant among which is the fact that those pages deal \nin a concentrated form with exceptional cases only, \nspread over great periods of time during which the \nmass of mankind moved along with unnoticed reg- \nularity. This fact, indeed, cannot be too strongly \nemphasized if a correct historical perspective is to \nbe obtained. During the Hancock pastorate (1726- \n1744) for instance, some twenty or more cases calling \nfor discipline came before the Braintree North Pre- \ncinct church.^ They were usually cases of inconti- \nnence. Compressed in a series of brief entries covering \na few consecutive pages of the little volume in which \nthey are recorded, these cases read like the numerous \ncounts in a formidable indictment ; yet they cover a \nperiod of eighteen years ! In a large rural parish, \ntherefore, the cases of church discipline scarcely aver- \naged one in a twelve-month. \n\nThe colonial church records, also, tell the story of \nan oversight and action severe and well-nigh all-perva- \nding, such as would now be regarded as scarcely less \nimpertinent than tyrannical, the patient submission to \nwhich in the times now under discussion is a thing in \nitself most significant. The church then took public \ncoo'nizance of drunkenness, of domestic discord and \nthe neglect and disregard of family duties, and, above \nall, of cases of incontinence. The continued and ac- \ntive existence of such an inquisitorial power is in itself \nstrong evidence of the high average morality of those \nupon whom the power was brought to bear, and who \nmoreover not only thus used, but, themselves, con- \ntrolled it. The community was the church, and in that \ncommunity there was practically but one class. No \n\n1 Proc. Mass. Hist. Soc. Series II. vi. 487-91. \n\n\nINCONTINENCE. 797 \n\none was privileged: what was criminal in one was \ncriminal in all ; what was condoned to one was con- \ndoned to all. This was a f nndamental fact, and it had \na close bearing on the relations of the sexes ; for in \nMassachusetts there were no lords of the manor and \npeasantry as in Europe, or masters and servile class, \nas in the South. There were well-defined social \ngrades, it is true, but nothing which even approached \nto the distinctions of caste. Accordingly, domestic \nand social practices derived from primitive times and \nother countries, which under certain social conditions \nwould have tended directly to general profligacy, were \nin New England comparatively innocuous. They left, \nnone the less, a deep mark on the records. \n\nAgain, in colonial Massachusetts there was, outside \nof Boston, which was a seaport town of large com- \nmerce, no appreciable criminal class, whether male or \nfemale. There were enough and to spare of individ- \nuals with criminal tendencies more or less fully devel- \noped, — the weak and misled, or the inherently vicious, \n— and such there will always be in every community ; \nbut during the colonial period there was no consider- \nable or recognized portion of the Massachusetts com- \nmunity those composing which made their avowed \nlivelihood, such as it was, by vice or crime. In the \nabsence of this class, many of the extraordinary con- \nfessions and cases of discipline revealed to us through \nthe records implied consequences then very different \nfrom what similar confessions would imply now. They \nwould under existing conditions, in which vice has \nbeen developed into a profession, involve for the maker \na social degradation to the level of those in that pro- \nfession ; whereas, under the conditions then prevailing, \nthe same offences were looked upon as lapses of a com- \n\n\n798 INTEMPERANCE AND IMMORALITY. \n\nparatively venial character, and were not only readily \ncondoned, but seem to have been speedily forgotten. \nCritically examined, and judged by the more primitive, \nless conventional and coarser standards of the time, — \nstandards the very existence of which implied the ab- \nsence of what must be termed professional vice and \ndegradation, — judged by these standards, the entries \nin the old church records are in no way either hard to \nunderstand, nor are they discreditable to the genera- \ntions to which they relate. On the contrary, the very \nfact that the exceptional cases are recorded as matter \nfor discipline, is conclusivie evidence that those cases \nwere exceptional. \n\nWhen left to itself, the stern church discipline of \nthe colonial period, though it reflected a severe moral- \nity, did not ignore the fact that those with whom it \ndealt were human. At times, especially in periods of \nso-called religious revival, or under the immediate in- \nfluence of some strong individual nature, the church \nlost its head, and it would then seek to establish some \ncode of morality at variance with human nature ; but \nthe bow, thus overdrawn, invariably broke. Such \nwas the case with Jonathan Edwards, the greatest of \nAmerican theologians, than whom no one could have \nbeen more devout, or purer, or more lofty minded. \nEdwards, with the most elevating ends in steady view, \ntreated his church, composed of men and women, — \nand young men and young women, — as if it had been, \nor, at least could be, disciplined and purged of every \nunregenerate trait ; and he did all in love. Jonathan \nEdwards flourished just one century after Governor \nWilliam Bradford, of Plymouth, and during that cen- \ntury human nature had not greatly changed ; but the \nNorthampton divine had less of worldly wisdom than \n\n\n\"/r GETTS VENTEr 799 \n\nthe Plymouth magistrate, for the latter, lamenting in \n1642 over the \" notorious sins, espetially drunkenness \nand unclainnes,\" of the community he had helped to \nfound and to foster, consoled himself with the reflec- \ntion \" that it may be in this case as it is with waters \nwhen their streames are stopped or dammed up ; when \nthey gett passage they flow with more violence, and \nmake more noys and disturbance, than when they are \nsuffered to rune quietly in their owne channels. So \nwikednes being here more stoppd by strict laws, and \nthe same more nerly looked unto so as it cannot rune \nin a comone road of liberty as it would, and is in- \nclined, it seerches every wher, and at last breaks out \nwher it getts vente ; \" and the writer then goes on \nwith these further words, than which none could bet- \nter express the probable conclusion which any careful \ninvestigator would reach who undertook to draw a \ncomparison between the morality of colonial Massa- \nchusetts and that of the present time, or of ether coun- \ntries of the same time : — \n\n\" Heer (as I am verily perswaded) is not more evills in \nthis kind, nor nothing nere so many by proportion as in \nother places ; but they are here more discoverd and seen, \nand made publick by due serch, inquisition, and due punish- \nment ; for the churches looke narrowly to their members, \nand the magistrats over all, more strictly than in other \nplaces. Besides, here the people are but few in comparison \nof other places, which are full and populous and lye hid, as \nit were, in a wood or thicket and many horrible evills by \nthat meens are never seen nor knowne ; whereas heer, they \nare, as it were, brought into the light, and set in the plaine \nfeeld, or rather on a hill, made conspicuous to the veiw of \nall.\" 1 \n\n1 Bradford, 385-6 ; see also the paper on Some Phases of Sexual \nMorality and Church Discipline in Colonial Massachusetts, in Froc \nMass. Hist. Soc Series II. vi. 477-51G. \n\n\nCHAPTER XIII. \n\nHEALTH, READING, DIVERSIONS. \n\nAs, in course of time, the striking exception only is \nremembered and is consequently assumed to have been \nthe rule in matters of morality, so in regard to physi- \ncal health and longevity, particular cases of old age in \neach family are long borne in mind, while the average \ndeath-rate is ignored. Some grandparent, uncle or \naunt, who nearly completed a century, will cause a \nwhole family to be reputed long-lived, though half \nthose belonging to it have died before forty. The \nphysical health of the people of colonial Massachu- \nsetts towns was far less good than it has since be- \ncome. The average human life was not so long. As \nmust naturally have been the case, the drinking hab- \nits of the last century generated a class of diseases \nof their own, besides delirium tremens. Men broke \ndown in middle life, dying of kidney and bladder \ntroubles, or living with running sores which could not \nbe closed. It is singular to note how common it was \nfor fathers or mothers to die at an age between forty \nand fifty. Rheumatism was more prevalent then than \nnow. A closer and more scientific observation has \ngiven new names to old ills, tracing them back to \ntheir sources ; but, referring to the frequent cases \nof Bright's disease brought to his notice during the \nlatter part of his life, the last and shrewdest medi- \ncal practitioner in Quincy of the old, country-doc- \n\n\nINFANT MORTALITY. 801 \n\ntor school was wont to remark that he had known \nthe new disease for fifty years ; but, he added, they \n\" used to call it dropsy, and the patients died.\" Not \nonly were visitations of the small-pox periodical, but \nin 1735 the diphtheria raged fearfully, and again in \n1751. Indeed, in this latter year more than a hun- \ndred and twenty died of it in the neighboring town of \nWeymouth out of a population of only twelve hun- \ndred. In 1761 an epidemic raged among the old \npeople of Braintree, carrying off seventeen in one \nneighborhood. In 1775, during the excitement of the \nsiege of Boston, a chronic dysentery prevailed to such \nan extent that three, four, and even five children were \nlost in single families, and Mrs. John Adams, writing \nfrom amid the general distress, could only say, \" The \ndread upon the minds of the people of catching the \ndistemper is almost as great as if it were the small- \npox.\"^ \n\nNotwithstanding such facts as these, it ever has \nbeen, and probably always will be, the custom to look \nback upon the past as a simpler, a purer, and a better \ntime than the present ; it seems more Arcadian and \nnatural, sterner and stronger, less selfish and more \nheroic. As respects New England and Massachusetts, \nthis idea is especially prevalent among those of the \nlater generations ; and, indeed, has been almost sedu- \nlously inculcated as an article of faith. The growing \nlaxity of morals, the decay of public spirit, the vul- \ngarity of manners and the general tendency of the \nage to deteriorate, have from the very beginning of \n\n^ The manner in which the population of colonial New England \n** was at once abundantly replenished and ruthlessly weeded,'' through \nlarge families and a prodigious infant mortality, is forcibly presented \nby Mr. John A. Doyle in his English in America ; the Puritan Colonies^ \nii. 7-8. Appendix C. \n\n\n802 HEALTH, READING, DIVERSIONS. \n\nNew England been matters of common observation : \nfor as early as the year 1659 one of the reasons for- \nmally assigned for \" a generall day of Humiliation in \nall the Churches \" was *' the sad face of things in re- \ngard of the rising generation ; \" ^ and a century and a \nquarter later, shortly after the close of the Revolution, \nthe papers were crying out against *' the extravagances \nof the present day \" and lamenting the vanished \n*' simplicity in dress and manners, temperance in meat \nand drinks, which formed the virtuous characters of \nour illustrious ancestors.\" Thus each generation has \nobserved these symptoms with alarm ; and each gen- \neration has in turn held up its fathers and mothers \nbefore its children as models, the classic severity and \nhomely, simple virtues of which a plainly degenerate \noffspring might well imitate, but coald not hope to \nequal. Those fathers and those mothers were not for \ndays like these. \n\nYet a careful study of the past reveals nothing \nmore substantial than filial piety upon which to base \nthis grateful fiction. The earlier times in New Eng- \nland were not pleasant times in which to live ; the \nearlier generations were not pleasant generations to \nlive with. One accustomed to the variety, luxury \nand refinement of modern life, if carried suddenly \nback into the admired existence of the past, would, the \nmoment his surprise and amusement had passed away, \nexperience an acute and lasting attack of home-sick- \nness and disgust. The sense of loneliness incident to \nutter separation from the great outside world, the \nabsence of those comforts of life which long habit has \nconverted into necessities, the stern conventionalities \nand narrow modes of thought, the coarse, hard, mo- \n\n1 Records of First Church of Dorchester, 30. \n\n\nA SOJOURN WITH THE PAST. 803 \n\nnotonous existence of the old countiy town would, to \none accustomed to the world of to-day, not only seem \nintolerable, but actually be so. He would find no \nnewspapers, no mails, no travellers, few books, and \nthose to him wholly unreadable, Sunday the sole holi- \nday, and the church, the tavern and the village store \nthe only places of resort or amusement. Last week's \npolitics at home and last month's abroad, the weather, \nthe crops, the births, the deaths and the Sunday ser- \nmon would be the subjects of droning talk. Long \nafter the North Precinct of the original town had \nbeen set off, and Braintree for over twenty years \nreduced to what had formerly been the Middle Pre- \ncinct only, there was no post-office within the limits \nof the place, nor any public conveyance for letters, \npapers or persons ; and '' but for the occasional rum- \nbling of a butcher's cart or a tradesman's wagon, the \nfall of the hammer on the lap-stone, or the call of the \nploughman on his refractory team, our streets had \nwell-nigh rivalled the grave-yard in silence.\" Yet in \nthose silent streets of the time of the war of 1812, the \nsame high authority ^ asserted there was, as comj^ared \nwith the time of the Slave-holders' Rebellion, far more \n\" brawling, shameless intoxication, quarrelling, pro- \nfaneness, vulgarity and licentiousness;\" while \"wine \nand spirits were imbibed at funerals to quiet the \nnerves and move the lachrymals of attendants,\" and \n** rowdyism and fisticuffs triumphed over law and order \non town-meeting, muster and election days.\" \n\nAs it was in Braintree so was it in Quincy, though \nin the latter town a post-office was established in \n1795 ; probably through the influence and at the \nrequest of John Adams, then Vice-President, whose \n\n^ Storrs, Fiftieth Anniversary Sermon, 32-3. \n\n\n804 HEALTH, READING, DIVERSIONS. \n\nbrother-in-law, Richard Cranch, was made postmaster. \nThe postage on a letter from Qiiincy to Boston was \nthen six cents ; to Springfield, it was ten ; to New \nYork, fifteen. Before 1830 not a single copy of a \ndaily paper found its way regularly to Quincy. As \nregards books the case was not much better. A \nlibrary, in the sense in which the word is now used, \nwas a thing unknown. Harvard College possessed \none, it is true, and by 1830 the Boston Athenaeum \nhad reached a certain degree of growth; but in \nQuincy, only after 1800 was there even a poor collec- \ntion of ordinary standard works of the day, which, \nowned by a social club, were allowed sluggishly to \ncirculate among its members. About the year 1704 \n\" the Venerable Society for the Propagation of the \nGospel \" had, indeed, sent over the gift of books al- \nready referred to for the use of the rector of Christ \nchurch in Braintree, and those volumes then, as now, \nloaded down the shelves of the vestry ; but, wholly \ndoctrinal, \" their dark and ribbed backs, their yellow \nleaves, their thousand folio pages \" repelled all but \nthe professional student. Commentaries of Simon, \nBishop of Ely, and of Hieronymus Zachius, the Help \nto Devotion of Thomas Comber and the Latin anno- \ntations of Grotius on the apostolic letters and the \nApocalypse, — works like these, even when bearing \nthe dates of 1613 and 1879 and made interesting by \nthe quaint device on the seal of the mother society, \nwere not mentally nutritious. More than eighty \nyears later, and subsequent to 1788, John Adams had \na library, large and interesting for those days, which \nat his death in 1826 he bequeathed to the town ; but \nthe works in it were little adapted for general read- \ning, and the restrictions put upon its use w^ere such \n\n\nLITERATURE. 805 \n\nas made it available only to scholars. Had it been \notherwise, it would have made no difference. In his \nfamous speech on conciliation with the colonies in 1775, \nEdmund Burke dwelt at length on the tendency to \nread, even then, as he asserted, almost universal in \nAmerica ; and probably he was right, having in mind \nthe general condition in that respect then prevailing \nin Euroj^e, and with which he was familiar : but, in \npoint of fact and in comparison with the present, before \n1830 the people of Braintree and Quincy, like their \ncountrymen as a whole, never having been accustomed \nto books and reading, did not really know what a \nlibrary was, or how to use it. Two generations of \nnewspapers, railroads and bookstores were needed to \nconvert even New Englanders into a really reading \nrace. \n\nGoing back to the earlier period, the Bible, and \nthat alone, seems to have been found everywhere; \nwhile in the houses of the gentry might be seen copies \nof Shakespeare and Milton, a few volumes of the \nclassics, the Spectator and the Tatler, the philosophi- \ncal works of Locke and of Bolingbroke, a number of \nsermons and theological works now wholly forgotten, \nand, if the owner was a lawyer, a doctor or a minister, \na few professional books. As a young man, on a Sun- \nday, John Adams, in the old house at the foot of \nPenn's Hill, read Baxter's Enquiry into the Nature \nof the Human Soul, and, for amusement, \" Ovid's \n' Art of Love ' to Mrs. Savil.\" i \n\nThe sensations of John Adams when he came back \n\nto this vegetating existence after having for thirty \n\nyears been part of great events have already been \n\nalluded to. In winter he longed to hibernate as a \n\n1 ITVA-s, ii. 37. \n\n\n800 HEALTH, READING, DIVERSIONS. \n\ndormouse. Yet he at least knew what he went back \nto, and expected nothing else. It would be otherwise \nwith a visitor bred to modern usages. In his case \nan illusion would be dispelled. If his experience \nchanced to fall on a Sabbath of the last century and \nduring the season between November and March, he \nwould pass a day of veritable torture. In order to \nescape the tedium of the dwelling, if for no other \nreason, he would be forced to spend weary hours in a \nmeeting-house scarcely as weather-proof and far less \ncomfortable than a modern barn, in which the only \nsuggestion of warmth was in that promise of an here- \nafter which was wont to emanate from the orthodox \npulpit. Most of the remaining hours of the dreary \nday he woidd pass seated in a wooden, straight-backed \nchair, from which perhaps he might, like Cotton \nMather on a Sunday in January, 1697, curiously ob- \nserve, as he shivered before \"a great Fire, the Juices \nforced out at the end of short billets of wood by the \nHeat of the Flame on which they were laid, yett froze \ninto Ice on their coming out.\" ^ If he conversed with \na young lady, and she chanced to be of a \" thinking \nmind,\" he might be confounded by \" observations on \nactions, characters, events in Pope's Homer, Milton, \nPope's Poems, any plays, romances, etc.,\" and struck \ndumb by being asked, — \" What do you think of \nHelen? what do you think of Hector, etc.? what \ncharacter do you like best ? did you wish the plot had \nnot been discovered in Venice Preserved ? \" ^ He \nwould sit down to dinner at one o'clock, and his repast \nwould be set before him in the following order : \" first \ncourse, a pudding made of Indian corn, molasses and' \n\n\n1 Wendell, Cotton Mather, 156. \n\n2 John Adams, Works, ii. 56. \n\n\nABLUTIONS. 807 \n\nbutter ; second, veal, bacon, neck of mutton, potatoes, \ncabbages, carrots and Indian beans ; Maderia wine, \nof which each drank two glasses.\" ^ At two o'clock \nall would go to afternoon service. In his bedchamber \nthe wayfarer to the last century would, were he treated \nas a member of the family, find no water for washing ; \nfor, if exposed overnight, it would be solid ice in the \nmorning. If among personal virtues cleanliness be \nindeed that which ranks closest to godliness, then, \njudged by nineteenth century standards, it is well if \nthose who lived in the eighteenth century had a suf- \nficiency of the latter quality to make good what they \nlacked of the former. Prior to 1820 there certainly \nwas not a bath-room in the town of Quincy, and it is \nvery questionable whether there was any utensil then \nmade for bathing the person larger than a crockery \nhand-bowl. The bath-room is a very modern institu- \ntion ; nor was the ordinary laundry wash-tub, of which \nit is an outgrowth, by any means in family requisition \neach Saturday night. In 1650 it is recorded that \nthose dwelling in certain portions of the British Isles \ndid \" not wash their linen above once a month, nor \ntheir hands and faces above once a year.\" As com- \npared with these the New Englander was cleanly, but \neven his ewers and basins were strictly in keeping \nwith a limited water supply ; and in 1627, Dr. Cotton \nMather took pains to advise candidates for the minis- \ntry \" daily to wash your Head and Mouth with Cold \nWater,\" as a \"Practice that cannot be too much \ncommended ; If it were only for saving you from the \nToothache.\" 2 \n\n1 Fearon, Narrative of a Journey, etc., in which is described a Sun- \nday at the house of John Adams, in 1817. \n\n2 Manuductio ad Ministerium, 132. \n\n\n808 HEALTH, READING, DIVERSIONS. \n\nWhen the temperature of a bedroom ranges be- \nlow the freezing-23oint, there is no inducement for the \nperson who has sought sleep therein to waste any \nunnecessary time in washing or dressing ; so, when \nMonday morning came, the visitor to the good old \ndays would huddle on his clothes and go down, blue \nand shivering with cold, to the sitting and break- \nfast-room, in which he would find a table spread \nwith a sufficiency of food, neither well cooked nor \nwell served. The salted meat and heavy bread made \nof Indian meal and rye he would wash down with \ndraughts of milk or hard cider, though in a few \nhouses tea might be offered him. All day he would \nlook in vain for a newspaper, or a letter, or even a \ndistant echo from the outside world. Weary with the \nmonotony of in-door life, the nineteenth century exile \nmight wander forth and watch for a time the hands \non the farm as they hauled and split wood, husked \ncorn, or tended the stock. Then he would find his \nway through the village. On the bare and dreary \nroad he would meet only an occasional chaise or \ntraveller on horseback, and an ox-cart or two loaded \nwith cordwood or produce ; a few children might be \non their way to or from the half-warmed school-house \nin which they huddled together on the long, hard \nbenches, shivering for hours. Coming at last to the \ntavern, and driven into it in search of warmth and \ncomfort, he would understand at a glance why the \nNew Englander was intemperate. There, gathered \nround about the great fire in the bar-room, would be a \nhalf-dozen or more rough, sinewy Yankees smoking \ntheir pipes, drinking flip and talking politics. The \nroom might be dirty, the language coarse, the air foul \nwith tobacco, and scenes of drunkenness might occur. \n\n\n\"/AT THE GRISTLE.*' 809 \n\nbut here was an escape from tedium, and a natural \ncraving for society and excitement was gratified. It \nwas the one form of sociability open to the average \nNew Englander through the long, comfortless winter \nhours of enforced idleness. \n\nWith the tavern the circle would be complete, un- \nless the stranger also stopped at the village store. \nThere again he would find the occupationless lounger \nseated on the stools or leaning against the counter ; \nand there also rum would be on sale, drawn by the \nglass or by the bottle from the barrels on tap at the \nrear of the room. The resources of the town would \nnow be exhausted. It would only remain to return to \nthe point of commencement, and, seated in the wooden \nchair, resume Baxter on the Soul, or the Tatler, or \nParadise Lost, before the great wood fire. And so \nit went on as generation followed generation across \nthe little stage. No change came ; nor was change \neither expected or desired. To use again Burke's \nsupremely happy phrase, it was the existence of a \npeople \" still, as it were, in the gristle, and not yet \nhardened into the bone.\" \n\n\nCHAPTER XIV. \n\nTOWN-MEETINGS. \n\nAs generaUy understood, the political record of an \nold New England town is the narrative of the con- \nnection of that town with the broad current of exter- \nnal events. Yet, when so treated, it cannot but lose \nin great degree both its individuality and its signifi- \ncance. The events of large historical moment which \nhave occurred within the limits of any town are neces- \nsarily few, and those few belong to general history. \nIn most cases the narrative connected with events of \nthis character is already familiar, and to go over it in \na purely local connection is but to repeat a story al- \nready sufficiently told. It only remains to develop \nwhatever of individuality there may have been in a \nparticular unit of a remarkable system. Having a \nfamily resemblance, just as the individuals composing \na community resemble each other in a general way, \neach of the Massachusetts towns in the early days had \nalso characteristics and peculiarities of its own. In \nmaking a portrait of the individual, the attempt of \nthe artist should be to impress on his canvas the traits \npeculiar to that individual, — not those which he had \nin common with the mass of his neighbors. So in \ndealing with the Kew England town, the historical \nstudent should cut loose as far as possible from the \ngeneral current of political events, and labor to bring \ninto prominence that which made his particular town \n\n\nNO PATERNAL CODDLING. 811 \n\nas an individual unit not altogether like its fellow \nunits. \n\nThat which lends an especial interest to the New \nEngland towns, — the one thing which makes the \ncareful study of them worth while, is the complete \nabsence from their growth of all paternal or fostering \ncare. The key-note is here struck. In the history \nof these towns, when closely studied and intimately \nknown, all the phases of a natural development — \nsocial, political and economical — can be observed. \nNo extraneous influences come into play to confuse \naction and obscure results. All is easily understood. \nFor those towns there was no projihet, no chief, no \nlord, no bishop, no king. Those dwelling in them \nwere all plain people. As such, they were neither \nguided nor protected from above. They stood on \ntheir own legs, such as they were ; and there was no \none to hold them up. They had no \"saviours of \nsociety ; \" nor, in their dark and troubled hours, did \nthey look or call for such. When in March, 1623, \nthere were indications of a general conspiracy of the \nIndian tribes, the little community at Plymouth did \nnot seek for aid from without, but \" it being high \ntime to come to resolution, made known the same in \npublic court. . . . But in the end . . . because it \nwas a matter of such weight as every man was not of \nsufficiency to judge, nor fitness to know . . . there- \nfore the Governor, his Assistant, and the Captain, \nshould take such to themselves as they thought most \nmeet, and conclude thereof.\" And again, when in \nJanuary, 1635, measures were taken at Whitehall \npreliminary to sending out to New England a Gov- \nernor-General, the immediate representative of King \nCharles, the question was formally submitted to the \n\n\n812 TO WX-MEE TIXGS. \n\nclergy of the Massachusetts colony, sitting in solemn \nconference with the mao-istrates, — ** What ou^rht we \nto do if a Governor-General should be sent out of \nEngland?\" And the answer came back quick and \ndecisive, — '* AVe ought not to accept him, but defend \nour lawful possessions, if we are able.'' That answer \nwas prophetic. In it was condensed and made con- \ncrete not only a century and a half of history, des- \ntined to include the AVar of Independence, but also \nthe essence, moral and social, of a civilization, in- \nstinct with stubborn indi\\'iduality and self-reliance. \nIts strength came from within ; and it came from \nwithin, because each town, like Plymouth in 1623 \nand Massachusetts in 1635, as an organized political \nbody worked out its problems in its own way. Nei- \nther were those problems simple. On the contrary, \nit has already been seen that in the course of the first \nhundred and ninety years of municipal life Braintree \nand Quincy had to deal in a practical way with al- \nmost every one of those questions which are wont to \nperplex statesmen. Religious heresies, land-titles, in- \nternal improvements and means of communication ; \neducation, temperance, pauperism and the care of the \ninsane : public lands, currency, taxation and municipal \ndebt, — all these presented themselves, and the peo- \nple assembled in town-meeting bad to, and did, in \nsome fashion work out a solution of them. Nor, be- \ning wholly unaided, did they fail to do so. There \nwas fortunately no inspiration in New England. It \nis needless to say that the solutions worked out were \noften rough and superficial and wrong. None the \nless they were the best of which those people were \ncapable ; and so best for them. They were hammer- \ning out their destiny in their own way on the hard \n\n\nTHE RECORDS. 813 \n\nanvil of commou- place current events : and they paid \nfor their experience as they went along. Their so \ndoing marked an epoch in history. \n\nIt is in the towns and town records of Massachu- \nsetts, therefore, that the American historical unit is to \nbe sought. The political philosopher can there study \nthe slow development of a system as it grew from the \ngerm up. The details are trivial, monotonous ; and \nnot easy to clothe with interest : yet the volumes \nwhich contain them are the most precious of archives. \nUpon their tattered and yellow pages the hardly \nlegible letters of the ill-spelled words are written in \nink grown pale with age ; but they are all we have \nleft to tell us of the first stages of a political growth \nw^hich has since ripened into the dominant influence \nof the new world : nor is it too much to imagine that \nwhen the idea of full human self-government, first \nslowly welded into practical form in the Xew Eng- \nland towns, and as yet far from perfected, shall \nhave permeated the civilized world and assumed final \nshape, then these town records will be accepted as sec- \nond in historical importance to no other description \nof archives. \n\nThe tendency of the antiquarian and the student of \nhistory, to find among the usages and customs of Xew \nEngland town life vestiges of primitive and well-nigh \nforgotten systems, — English, Saxon and Teutonic, — \nhas already been referred to ; ^ but in no connection \nhas this tendency been more clearly or frequently \nseen than in what has been written and said of the \ntown-meeting. That such should have been the case \nis, also, natural, for probably there is no single Amer- \nican institution which, since De Tocqueville made it \n\n^ Supra, 656. \n\n\n814 ro WN-MEE TINGS. \n\nfamous half a century ago, has excited so much inter- \nest and admiration. Indeed, the New England town- \nmeeting has been the one feature in American polity \nwhich no one, speaking with the slightest authority, \nhas as yet seen fit to criticise adversely ; while in- \nvestiofators have busied themselves to trace for the \nMassachusetts town a direct descent from the Ger- \nmanic \" tun,\" and the town-meeting has been derived \nsometimes from the English vestry and at other times \nfrom the Saxon folk-mote. \n\nOn the other hand, there are those who insist that \nin this, as in many other cases, resemblances, however \nstriking, are no evidence of descent, and that it is \neasy to give altogether too much weight to similitudes \nand analogies ; and those who take this view of the \nsubject claim that both the Massachusetts town and \ntown government, if not actually autochthonous, are \nproducts of New England, — the growth of an Eng- \nlish germ planted in transatlantic soil. \n\nSo far as Braintree is concerned, its records by them- \nselves throw little light on this mooted question, for \nBraintree was not an original town ; and, for reasons \nwhich have already been set forth,^ its history through \nsix years, from September, 1634, to» May, 1640, must \nbe sought for in that of Boston, of which during that \ntime it was a part. When its independent existence \nbegan, the process of further development naturally \ntook place on the lines already marked out in the ex- \nperience of the mother town. Yet in the volumes of \nthe published records of the two places can be seen \nclearly enough how town and town-meeting were natu- \nral and slow developments from existing as well as \npreceding circumstances and conditions, legal and \n1 Supra, 646-53. \n\n\nKING CHARLES' CHARTER. 815 \n\necclesiastical, material, social and political ; and, if \nthe records have been correctly studied, the opinion \nof those who hold that both town and town govern- \nment are genuine New England products would seem \nto be much more nearly right than that of those who \ntrace them to remote and alien sources.^ According \nto this view the origin of the town was legal and corpo- \nrate, not ecclesiastical or feudal. It did not come from \nthe \" tun,\" nor was the town-meeting an adaptation \nfrom the vestry or the folk-mote. That the English \nof the great Massachusetts emigration brought with \nthem to New England their political and social usages \nand modes of thought and action, together with their \nspeech and clothes, is a thing of course, nor does it \nneed to be repeated ; but, in the matter of govern- \nment, both colonial and town, the records seem clearly \nto indicate that the usages and forms of procedure \nfollowed were those then in vogue w^ith the English \ncommercial associations of the day ; and, accordingly, \nthey must be looked for in that charter of 1629 which \nincorporated a business company to establish and \nmaintain a plantation on Massachusetts Bay. At an \nearly day convenience and necessity combined to cause \nthe creation of lesser plantations subordinate to the \nmother plantation ; and, following the ordinary phy- \nsiological law, the descendants were of the same spe- \ncies as the progenitor. Under the terms of its charter \nthe Massachusetts Bay company had, like other busi- \nness and commercial corporations before and since, an \norganization consisting of a body of proprietors, or \n\n1 The question is disciissed, and authorities are cited in the paper \nentitled The Genesis of the Massachusetts Town and the Develop- \nment of Town-Meeting' Government, in Proceedings of Mass. Hist. \nSac. (Jan. 1892) Series II. vii. 172-211. \n\n\n816 TO WN-MEE TINGS. \n\nstockholders as they are now called, who at stated \nperiods assembled in corporate meeting, or Great and \nGeneral Court, and chose a board of directors, or \nassistants, to manage the atfairs of the company. \n\nThe town, or plantation as it was likewise called, \nwas merely a convenient, though vague designation of \nterritory assigned to subordinate corporate bodies of \nproprietors, who, in turn, made allotments of land or \nheld it in common, managing all local affairs through \ntheir own general courts, or meetings of proprietors, \nwhich originally, in the case of Boston and Braintree, \nconfined themselves to the choice of a smaller body \n'' Deputed for towne affairs,\" to whom the entire man- \nagement of all matters of common, local concernment \nwas intrusted. This smaller body held towards the \nfreeholders, or inhabitants, of the town the same rela- \ntion the board of assistants under the charter held to \nthe freemen of the colony. Only very gradually in \nboth Boston and Braintree did the toAvn - meeting \nassume shape as a fully developed legislative body; \nindeed, in the case of Braintree, so far as the records \nshow, this did not take place for more than half a \ncentury after the incorporation of the town, though in \nMarch, 1673, an order was passed at a \"publike \nmeeting \" that twice a year thereafter, general town- \nmeetings \" of the whole inhabitants \" should be held \n\" to consult and agree upon all things that may con- \ncerne the good of the Towne and for the choice of all \ntheir publike towne Officers ; \" but, if such meetings \nwere subsequently held, more than twenty years \nelapsed before a formal record of them was made. \nIndeed, so slow was the process of development, — so \nfar were the early immigrants from having brought \nover the well developed practice of the English vestry \n\n\nTHE CONSTITUENCY. 817 \n\nwith tliem, that in Braintree they were in their graves \nbefore the Massachusetts system assumed final form. \nPrior to 1693 the Braintree town book contains little \nbut transcripts of contracts, or orders relating to ways, \nor votes affecting the title to lands. \n\nThe colonial charter of 1629 was vacated by the \naction of the English courts in 1686, and hi 1691 the \nprovincial charter of William and Mary was granted. \nOf what the constituent body composing the \" Pub- \nlike Towne meeting \" prior to 1690 was made up can \nonly be conjectured. The letter of the law conferred \nthe right of voting in the town-meeting, as well as \nat the charter elections, on freemen of the colony \nonly, though all inhabitants might participate in the \ndeliberations or be compelled to fill offices ; and the \nfreemen were but a minority, and a small minority, \nof the freeholders. But, though the law was thus re- \nstrictive, there is reason to believe the practice in \ntown-meeting was far more democratic, and that from \na comparatively early day all who were accepted in- \nhabitants or householders were by tacit common con- \nsent, if not otherwise, admitted to an equal voice. \nThus it was in the town-meeting that Massachusetts \nfound the vigorous political life which saved it from \natrophy ; ^ and in Braintree the famous town-meeting \ngovernment of the eighteenth century had in 1690 \ndeveloped at last into full being, — an outgrowth, not \nof the congregation, but of the body of proprietors, or \nstockholders, assembled in corporate form. \n\nThe active, recorded town -meeting government of \nBraintree practically began, therefore, with that Revo- \nlution of 1688 which terminated the Stuart dynasty ; \nand the town sympathized heartily in the movement \n^ Supra, 577 ; Proceedings Mass. Hist, Soc. Series II. vii. 210. \n\n\n818 TO WN-MEE TINGS. \n\nwhich overthrew Andros, though its action exempli- \nfied the extreme slowuess in New England of seven- \nteenth century political procedure. It was on the \n18th of April that the popular rising in Boston took \n})lace, and the captain of the Rose, a British frigate \nthen at anchor in Boston harbor, was seized, the en- \nsign of revolt being raised on Beacon Hill. The next \nday Sir Edmund Andros was confined, a captive, in \nthe fort. Yet not until the 20th of May, more than \na month later, were \" the Inhabitants of Braintrey \nconvened together to give their sentiments and minds \nabout a present settlement of a Government.\" They \nthen voted that the magistrates and deputy \" chosen \nand Sworne in 86 bee reinstated.\" It was also voted \n\" that the Hon^d, Waitt still Winthrop be major Gen- \nerall of the Millitia of the Colony of the Mattathu- \nsetts,\" while \"Capt. Edmund Quinsey,\" already acting \nas one of the Committee of Safety, which formed the \nprovisional government of the colony until the arrival \nof the charter of William and Mary, was authorized \nto \" Signe our returne of the names of the represen- \ntatives and the order therein given them In the name \nof the Inhabitants.\" A fortnight afterwards another \ntown-meeting was held to take further action \" about \nthe emergencies that came under consideration \" by \nchoosing a representative to consult with the Commit- \ntee of Safety thereon, and, so far as Braintree was \nconcerned, the Revolution of 1688 was then complete ; \nthe freeholders thereupon at once turned their atten- \ntion from large affairs of state to providing, as already \nmentioned,^ a hutch in which to secure \" good wife \nWitty,\" sister of \" Samuel Speere,\" she \" being dis. \ntracted.\" \n\n1 Supra, 725. \n\n\nTHE CHARTER OF WILLIAM AND MARY, 819 \n\nIt was not until five years after the Revolution of \n1688 that a list of town officers appears in the record- \nbook, but from that time forward the machinery of \ntown government was complete. The old theocracy \nthen ceased to exist by virtue of the provisions of \nthe new charter ; religious toleration was secured to \nthose of all Christian sects except papists ; the right \nof suifrage was bestowed on all adult male inhabit- \nants, subject to a small property qualification ; the \nchief executive officers of the province were thereaf- \nter appointed by the King. The franchise was thus \ngreatly enlarged, while the town -meeting was left \nunrestrained in action. Though not so regarded at \nthe time, the charter of 1691 was, therefore, from a \nwide and popular point of view, a vast improvement \non that of 1629. Through its operation the last rem- \nnant of ecclesiastical organization was forced to give \nway to the purely political organization, — the shadow \nof theocracy disappeared, and the town-meeting as a \ndeveloped reality took its place. The officers chosen \nin Braintree in 1693, the year in which the new char- \nter went into operation, were five selectmen, a town \nclerk and a commissioner, two constables, five tithing- \nmen, and eight viewers of fences. The next year \nsurveyors of highways and field -viewers were also \nchosen, and the first specific appropriation was made. \nIt amounted to X9 13s. in colonial money, the pound \nbeing $3.33, and it is instructive in its details. It \nreads as follows : — \n\n\" five pounds to John belsher's widow's maintenance, and \nthirty shilings to Thomas Revill for keeping William Dim- \nblebee, and twenty-five sliilings for the ringing of the bel \nand sweping the meeting-house in the year 1694, and eight \nshilings for mending the pound, seven shilings to William \n\n\n820 TO WN-MEE TINGS. \n\nSavill for diniblebe's cofin, and eight shilings to constables \nfor warning the Town, and live shilings for the exchang of \na Town cow to Samuel Speer, and ten shilings to Thomas \nBas for dept for ringing the bell formerly, this to be raised \nby rate.\" \n\nNo provision was made for the payment of town \nofficers, and, with the exception of the constables who \nnotified town -meetings, they seem at first to have \nserved gratuitously. Nor when, in lapse of time, com- \npensation was voted them for their services, was it \nbased on any scale open to the charge of extravagance. \nA town treasurer was first chosen in March, 1695 ; \ntwo years later he was voted one pound, or 13.33, for \na year's services ; and thirty -two years afterwards the \namount had increased to only £3, and that in a paper \ncurrency depreciated more than one half. In 1717 \nthe town clerk was paid the sum of ^13. 33 in full for \nhis services through four years. For the work done \nby them as assessors in the apportionment of the town \nrate, the selectmen seem to have been first paid in \n1716, — there were three of them and they received \nsums aggregating §7.67. Even as late as 1770, when \nthe board had been increased to five, its members were \nallowed for their services only the sum of <£9, or §6, \neach, while the town clerk had forty shillings, and the \nconstable X3. \n\nBut in a general sketch such as the present it would \nnot be profitable to enter into the petty details of mu- \nnicipal legislation through monotonous years. They \nrepeated each other. Regular votes were passed in \nrelation to the church, the commons, the school ; and \nat times the dissent of certain freemen from the action \nhad was noted. Certain large issues always loomed \nup as the engrossing questions of the time, upon the \n\n\nSEPARATION. 821 \n\nsolution of which the common mind was fixed. Now \nit would be the matter of title, and determined resist- \nance to the pretensions of Boston land claimants ; and \nthen the division of the town into precincts would \nforce itself to the front. The village theatre of 1700 \nwas in fact exactly like the national theatre of 1850, \nexcepting only that it was not so large. As the tariff \nand bank issues in the latter were succeeded by the \ndisunion issue, so in the former the question of title \nwas followed by the demand for parochial division. \nThe questions of title to the land and absentee owner- \nship have already been sufficiently referred to, but a \nfew words more may be given to the division of the \ntown into precincts as illustrating the methods of the \ntime. It has already been stated ^ that the freemen of \nthe two sections were so wrought up over this issue \nthat they by no means abstained from angry words, \nand almost came to blows. For a time the battle \nraged over the apportionment of the minister's salary. \nThen an overt act of secession followed, and the frame \nof a new meeting-house w^as raised. Finally a joint \ncommittee of eight, four being selected from each of \nthe tAvo precincts, was sent to \" discourse with Mr. \nFiske one with another, and bring report to the town \nwhether there can be any proposals made that may and \nshall be complied with on either side that may be for \nthe peace and satisfaction of both parts of the town.\" \nIt was a committee of representative men, for Edmund \nQuincy served upon it, and it w^ent on an errand of \npeace ; but, as registered, it has now a warlike ring. \nUi)on it were a lieutenant-colonel, two captains, one \ncornet, two sergeants, besides \" Lieut. Deacon Savel.\" \nOne only bore no military designation, plain \" John \nEuggles, senior.\" This was in March, 1708. \n1 Supra, 611-13. \n\n\n822 TO WN- MEETINGS. \n\nApparently the committee did not \" discourse \" in \nvain, or perhaps the Rev. Mr. Fiske proved a success- \nful peacemaker ; for steps were soon taken towards \neffecting a peaceful division. By December matters \nhad been so far advanced that a special town-meeting \nwas called, as the warrant ran, \" then and there to con- \nsult and consider about, and if possible to fix upon a \nsuitable and reasonable line of division, distinction, or \nlimitation. . . . That said line be lovingly agreed upon \nand settled (if it may be).\" Edmund Quincy was \nchosen moderator, and then ensued an angry and ex- \ncitinsf debate, for the record reads that \" after the \nwarrants were read there were some immediately that \ndid declare against the dividing of the town, and that \nthey did refuse to Joyne with said Inhabitants in that \naffair, and requested that it might be entered with \ntheir names in the Town Book.\" The names were \nthen recorded ; and it is a significant fact that three \nat least of those names belonged to persons active in \norganizing the Episcopal church. They apparently \ndesired no settlement of parochial disputes which did \nnot cover their own case. But the division of the town \ninto separate precincts was none the less effected, and \nthis absorbing issue disposed of. \n\nTown government was now thoroughly organized \nin Braintree ; and, for purpose of illustration, the rec- \nord of a single year will not be uninstructive. Take, \nfor instance, that of 1710-11. During those twelve \nmonths, from March to March, three town-meetings \nwere held, one in March, one in May, and one in \nNovember. At the March meeting town officers were \nchosen, and a special committee was appointed \"to \ngo and search the records at Boston with reference to \nthe grant of the six thousand acres of land by the \n\n\nTOWN-MEETING EQUALITY. 823 \n\nGeneral Court to the town of Braintree.\" ^ Twenty \nshillings were also voted to Joseph Bass as a suitable \ncompensation for two years' service as town treasurer. \nAt the May meeting the delegate to the General \nCourt was chosen, and also a sealer of leather. At \nthe November meeting a levy of thirty pounds was \nordered to defray the town charges for the current \nyear. Provision was next made for the increase of \nthe town herds, and an appropriation of six pounds \nwas made therefor. The schoolmaster, \"Mr. Adams,\" \nwas then \" impowered to demand a Load of wood of \neach boy that comes to school this winter.\" It was \nalso further voted that \" twelve pounds be raised for \nJohn Penniman, of Swansey, provided that the Town \nbe forever cleared of him.\" Finally, the further \norder was passed by the North Precinct freeholders \nthat Mr. William Rawson should have \" liberty to \nbuild a Pew for him self e and Family where the three \nshort seats of the women's be, and so to joyn home to \nthe foreseat of the women's in the old Meeting-house \nat the southwest end.\" To this same Mr. Rawson, it \nwill be remembered, there had ten years before been \nconceded \" the privilege of making a seat for his \nfamily between or upon the two beams over the pul- \npit, not darkening the pulpit.\" \n\nReference has been made in an earlier chapter^ to \nthe difference which existed in early New England \nlife, between church usages and town-meeting usages, \nand to the rude political equality which was such a \nstriking feature in the latter. In the case of Braintree, \nthis was well illustrated by an incident which occurred \nin 1758. It was the duty of the annually elected \ntown constable to collect all taxes. The office, there- \n\n1 Supra, 659. 2 Supra, 733. \n\n\n824 TOWN-MEETINGS. \n\nfore, was avoided ; for noi; only did it entail much \nwork, but, until after the year 1740, this work was \nwholly unremunerated. It was looked upon as a \npublic duty to be performed by every one in turn. \nNor was this all, for under the law as it then stood \nthe constable had to account for the taxes included in \nthe levy which he had failed to collect, as well as for \nthose he actually received. A dangerous liability, \ntherefore, attached to the office ; and not without rea- \nson was it argued in the town-meeting of 1766 that \n\" collecting taxes had laid the foundation for the ruin \nof many families.\" So much was the office avoided \nthat as early as 1710, the meeting-house bell being \ncracked, one Daniel Legaree offered to mend it \n\" upon condition of his being freed from being chose \na Constable ; \" and the precinct accepted the offer, \nproviding that \" if anything should happen whereby \n[the bell] should be melted or broken, that [Legaree] \nwill return the same weight of the same metal that he \nreceives.\" At the March town-meeting of 1761, John \nAdams says, \" when I had no suspicion, I heard my \nname pronounced in a nomination of surveyors of \nhighways. I was very wroth, because I knew no \nbetter, but said nothing. My friend Dr. Savil came \nto me and told me that he had nominated me to i)re- \nvent me from being nominated as constable. ' For,' \nsaid the doctor, ' they make it a rule to compel every \nman to serv^e either as constable or surveyor, or to \npay a fine.' \" This was quite true ; nor could John \nAdams well have failed to know it. He had probably \nthought that, as a college graduate and student of \nlaw, he would be exempted from the common rule. \nIf he did think so, he should have known better. \nThere were no exemptions allowed ; and, indeed, it \n\n\nTHE TOWN CONSTABLE. 825 \n\nwas one of the rough town-meeting jokes to elect men \nconstables who had never served, and make them pay \nthe fine. For instance, in 1734, Josiah Quincy, then \na young man of twenty-five, was elected ; and the \nrecord reads, \" Mr. Josiah Quincy refused to serve, \nand paid his fine down, being five pounds.\" So John \nBorland, belonging to one of the few wealthy families \nin the town, a member of the Church of England \nsociety and subsequently a Tory, was chosen consta- \nble in 1756, though then excused from serving ; but \nin 1757 he was chosen again and appears to have \nserved. In 1744 General Joseph Palmer, being then \nfifty-eight, a man of fortune and a deacon, was duly \nchosen constable at the annual March meeting over \nwhich he was at the time presiding as moderator. \nBut he \"refused serving as incompatible with his \nchurch office.\" In 1728, Moses Belcher was chosen ; \nand he declaring non-acceptance, William Fields was \nnext chosen. Fields also declaring his non-accep- \ntance, '' John Adams being by a majority of votes \nchosen, he declared his acceptance.\" In 1735 no less \nthan twenty-five pounds were paid in as fines for non- \nacceptance, and those fines were looked upon as so \nconsiderable a source of revenue that in 1730 it was \nvoted that the money paid in on this account should \nbe for the benefit, not of the town as a wdiole, but of \nthe particular precinct in which the person who paid \nit might live. Colonel John Quincy's only son, Nor- \nton, was graduated from Harvard in 1756, and two \nyears later, at a town - meeting held on September \n11th, he was duly chosen constable. A week after- \nwards another town-meetino^ was held. Colonel John \nQuincy was then a man of nearly seventy, and for \nalmost fifty years he had been the most prominent \n\n\n826 TO WN-MEE TINGS. \n\npersonage in the town. He was looked up to with \nthat respect which in the popular mind always accom- \npanies advancing years associated with high public \noffice. The old man seems to have thought the choice \nof his son as town constable an act derogatory to him- \nself ; so he went into the meeting, and, as the record \nsays, \" desired his son might be excused from serving \nconstable.\" Among those to whom this request was \naddressed there could not have been many who re- \nmembered a time when the man who made it had not, \nas a matter of course, jDresided at town - meetings. \nThey were not wanting in deference to years and \nstanding ; and, if they would defer to any one, they \nwould surely defer to him. But, clearly, they thought \nthat Colonel Quincy was now demanding for himself \nand his an exemption from public service which \namounted to little less than a denial of equality. \nSuch an assumption of superiority was inconsistent \nwith the spirit of town government. And so, the \nrecord proceeds, \"after reasons offered,\" the request \nto be excused was \" passed in the negative,\" and the \ntown treasurer was directed \" to call on said Norton \nQuincy for his fine.\" Apparently the old man felt \nthis slight, as he regarded it, deeply, for his name \ndoes not again appear in the town records, though it \nwas nine years yet before he died. But young Norton \nQuincy accepted the rebuke in the true spirit. He \npaid his fine ; and the next year, when the town again \nchose him constable, he quietly accepted the office and \nperformed its duties. ' \n\n\nCHAPTER XY. \n\nCOLONIAL WARS AND TOWN CONTENTIONS. \n\nIt is a noticeable fact that there is no trace whatever \nof the Indian wars to be found in the Braintree records, \nand yet it does not need to be said that Braintree could \nnot have escaped its share of the burdens of that \nseverest New England trial when, and when only in \nNew England history, the enemy was at almost every \ndoor. The long struggle with the French was carried \non at a distance, and, so far as Massachusetts was con- \ncerned, entailed heavy drafts for men and money ; but \nno camp-fire smoke was seen or hostile shot heard \nwithin the colony's limits. The forays of the Revolu- \ntion were limited to the coast and one short memorable \nmarch to Concord. The war of 1812 caused for Mas- \nsachusetts nothing more than needless alarms along \nthe shore. The Rebellion was fought out at a distance. \nNot so the Indian wars. The struggle then, where it \nwas not actually over the hearthstone, was at the thres- \nhold. Braintree was one of the more fortunate towns. \nThough a few wretched Indians lingered within its \nlimits down even to the middle of the next century, \nthe great plague of 161G had in the vicinity of \" the \nMount \" done its work thoroughly. Rum and small- \npox finished what little pestilence had left. Accord- \ningly, Braintree was never called upon, until King \nPhilij^'s war, for anything more than men and money. \n\nThe first draft of this kind was in August, 1645. A \n\n\n828 INDIAN ]VARS. 1645. \n\nwar with Passacus and the Xarragansetts was then \nthreatening, and Major-General Gibbons, he who had \nbeen a companion of Morton's at the Mount Wollaston \nof the old ^lay-pole days, was sent out in command of \na force of two hundred men. Braintree, Weymouth \nand Dorchester were ordered to furnish three horses, \nwith saddles and bridles, \" to be at Boston by seven \no'clock in the morning, the 18th of this 6th month,\" to \naccompany General Gibbons ; and it was Mr. Tompson, \nof the Braintree church, who was selected \" to sound \nthe silver trumpet along with his army.\" Among the \ncommissary stores of this expedition were included — \n\" Bread, tenn thousand ; beif, six hogsheads ; fish, tenn \nkintalls,\" etc., — \" strong water, one hogshead ; wine \nat your pleasure ; beere, one tunn.\" These preparations \nproved too much for the savages and, it has already \nbeen said, they succumbed before a blow was struck. \n\nAgain in 1653, the commissioners of the confederacy \nof New England colonies \" conceived themselves called \nby God to make a present war against Ninigret, the \nNiantic sachem,\" and the next year it fell to Massa- \nchusetts to raise one hundred and eighty-three soldiers, \nfoot and horse, to go forth in that cause. Braintree's \nquota was four men. Simon Willard, of Concord, was \nin command, and he mustered his force at Dedham on \nthe 9th of October, 1655, and led it oif through Prov- \nidence to the shores of Long Island Sound. In fifteen \ndays he was back at Dedham, having accomplished a \nmilitary promenade. \n\nTwenty years later came King Philip's war, and \nBraintree is said now to have received a scratch from \nthe wildcat's claw. An insignificant Indian raid oc- \ncurred, and four persons were killed, — \" three men \nand a woman. The woman they carried about six or \n\n\n1675. ''ONE JOHN INDIAN.\" 829 \n\nseven miles, and then killed her and hung her up in an \nunseemly and barbarous manner by the wayside lead- \ning from Braintree to Bridge water.\" In consequence \nof the alarm occasioned by this raid, a sort of fron- \ntier post was established on the Bridgewater road, and \nRichard Thayer, the same who a few years later \nposed as claimant of the wdiole Braintree township \nby virtue of the Wampatuck deed, was put in charge \nof it. Thayer was evidently a man of a type by no \nmeans uncommon in Massachusetts at all periods of \nits history, men in whom the elements of the brag- \ngart and the impostor are compounded, and who, hav- \ning an unbounded assurance, seek to live by their \nwits. So now Thayer, who had been \" impressed \" as \none of Braintree's quota, was conspicuous for spread- \ning noisy, false alarms, and afterwards claimed the \nglory of capturing one John Indian ; though his 23ar- \nticipation in this last exploit was by others denied, \nwhile the poor savage was, furthermore, represented \nas being at the time he was made a captive \" so feeble \nand weake that he came creeping under the fences, \nand not able for any action, being without arms.\" \nNevertheless Thayer afterwards brought in a bill for \nservices and disbursements, amounting to thirteen \npounds, which the \"Military Committee of Brain- \ntree \" promptly disallowed. In 1675 the town was \ncalled upon to furnish nineteen men for active duty, \nseven of them mounted. These figures now have an \ninconsiderable sound, and convey but a slight idea of \nthe stress of war ; yet a call for nineteen men was to \nBraintree of 1675, with its ninety families, as heavy a \ndraft as a call for 600 men from those inhabiting the \nsame territory during the war of the Rebellion, a lit- \ntle less than two centuries later.^ \n\n^ Assuming the population of Braintree to have been 500 in 1675, — \n\n\n830 THE OLD FRENCH WAR. 1690. \n\nIn 1690 came the French war, and Braintree was \ncalled upon to furnish thirteen men for the ill-fated \nQuebec expedition under Sir William Phipps. The \nfate of these men was hard. The town records tell it \nin a way not to be improved upon : — \n\n\" The 9th of August there went soldiers to Canada, in the \nyear 1690, and the smallpox was abord, and they died six of \nit ; four thrown overboard at Cape Ann, Corporal John Par- \nmenter, Isaak Thayer, Ephraim Copeland and Ebenezer \nOwen, they ; and Samuel Bas and John Cheny was thrown \noverboard at Nantaskett.\" \n\nTwo more of the thirteen, making eight in all, died \nshortly after reaching home : yet, according to the \nRev. Cotton Mather, \" during the absence of the \nforces the wheels of prayer in New England had been \ncontinually going round.\" From the beginning this \nexpedition had not been popular in Braintree. The \nyoung men refused to be impressed, and Col. Edmund \nQuincy, on whom had fallen the duty of supplying the \ncontingent called for, had been forced to write to old \nGovernor Bradstreet, then the head of the provisional \ngovernment, that there were among those impressed \nin Braintree \" but two or three who will go. I can \ndo no more, without there be some sent for, and made \nexample to the rest. To behold such a spirit is of an \nawful consideration.\" \n\nThe French and Indian war was followed by a long \nperiod of quiet ; and after the division of the Braintree \nchurch had been effected there was little about which \n\nand in 1683, it consisted of \" about ninety or hundred families at the \nmost \" — a levy of nineteen men in that year would have been equiv- \nalent to a levy of 256 men from Quincy alone in 1861-5, when the \npopulation was returned at 6,748. The larg-est number of men who \nenlisted from Quincy in any one year of the Rebellion was 304 in 1861. \n\n\n1736. THE ALE WIFE WAR. 831 \n\nthe town was under any call to agitate itself, though in \npoint of fact there was one matter which seems to have \nstirred the local waters to their lowest depth : indeed \nit may well be questioned whether during the ninety \nyears which elapsed between the close of King Philip's \nwar and the passage of the Stamp Act Braintree was \never so excited over any emergency in public affairs, \nas it was in 1736, over a controversy with one Thomas \nVinton concerning the obstruction caused to the pas- \nsage of ale wives up into the Braintree ponds by the \ndam in the Monatiquot at the old iron-works. Vinton \nhad, in 1720, purchased the land on which the iron- \nworks stood. The attempt to manufacture iron there \nhad years before been finally abandoned as unprofit- \nable ; but the dam which furnished water-power was \nstill standing, and it seems to have obstructed for no \nsufficient cause the passage of the fish up the river \nduring the spawning season. It is singular now in \nstudying the course of earlier town-life on the Mas- \nsachusetts seaboard, to notice the importance of the \nalewives. \" Their annual return ' with such lon^inof \ndesire after the fresh-water ponds ' — as an old chron- \nicler writes — was the most important event of the \nyear.\" ^ Long now unheard of and unthought of in \nBraintree, a century and a half ago these \" historic \nfishes \" not only vexed town-meetings, but because of \nthem the whole community was wrought to such a \npitch of excitement that it took the law into its own \nhands. There was never any other similar experience \nin the town's history. The matter must long have \nbeen under discussion among the people, and there \nwas much feeling in regard to this vested private \nright which ran counter to a public right in no way \n1 Bliss, Colonial Times on Buzzard's Bay, 196-9. \n\n\n832 TOWN CONTENTIONS. 1736. \n\nless vested. At last the issue was brought up for \naction by an article in the warrant for a town-meet- \ning called for the 10th of March, 1736. The ar- \nticle read : — \" To consider and determine on some \neffectual means of giving the Fish free passage up the \nRiver at the Iron works &c ; \" and, after warm de- \nbate, a committee was appointed to treat with Mr. \nVinton for the surrender of his rights. At a special \nmeeting called a month later to receive the report of \nthis committee, its chairman, Lieut. Joseph Crosby, \nstated verbally : — \n\n\" That they had been with Mr. Thomas Vinton and had \nasked of him, on what terms he woukl quit his Claim to the \nRiver aforesaid. To which (they said) he made no answer, \nand Mr. Vinton being present at the meeting. The modera- \ntor [Benjamin NealJ put the Question to him, whether he \nwould part with his Right in the River, To which he made \nanswer, that he would not sell his Right therein on any \ntearms whatsoever. The moderator then put the Question \nto the meeting whether they would defend their Rights in \nsaid River against the claims of all persons, whatsoever, It \npassed in the affirmative, against which John Hunt entered \ndissent. Then the Question was put Whether they would \nraise money to defrey the charge that may arise in defend- \ning their Rights, It passed in the affirmative, against which \nEnsign John Hunt and Benjamin Ludden dissented. \n\n\" Then Voted, That One Hundred Pounds shall be as- \nsessed on the Town (if need be) to defrey the charge of de- \nfending their Rights abovesaid. \n\n\" Then the Question was put, whether they would chuse \na Committee To Take care that the River be kept clear of \nall obstructions to the passage of the Fish, and to prosecute \nin the Law all such as shall hinder or obstruct their passage \nin Said River. It passed in the affirmative.\" \n\nThe committee now appointed was especially au- \n\n\n1736. A NUISANCE ABATED. 833 \n\ntliorlzed to submit the whole matter In dispute to a \nreference of '' indifferent men,\" if Vinton would con- \nsent to so doing. He would come to no terms ; and \napparently the committee was afraid to do anything. \nIn any event, its action certainly was not energetic \nenough to meet the views of the townsmen, and an- \nother meeting was held on the 23d of August. A \nvote was then passed that \" all such things as obstruct \nthe Passage in Monaticut River, in any part thereof \nbe removed.\" It was further voted not to continue \nthe former committee, nor to add to it other \"meet \nPersons ; \" but a wholly new committee was chosen, \nat the head of which was \" The Honble. Leonard Vas- \nsal, Esq.\" This committee appears to have had re- \ncourse at once to high-handed measures. They pulled \nthe dam down ; thus summarily abating what the town \nregarded as a public nuisance. In consequence of this \naction another town-meeting w^as held on the 14th of \nSeptember, at which Mr. Benjamin Neal, a member \nof the committee, was chosen moderator. It was then \nvoted that the committee should be empowered to de- \nfend all individuals against any action which Mr. \nVinton might bring, \" excepting any charg Mr. Vin- \nton shall or may recover of any person or persons by \nmaking out a Riot.\" \n\nThree weeks later still another special meeting was \ncalled, and a vote was passed offering Vinton three \nhundred pounds in bills of credit if he would quit- \nclaim to the town all his right in the river, and dis- \ncontinue legal proceedings against those who had been \nconcerned in the pulling down of the dam. \"Mr. \nVinton being present, declared his acceptance of the \nTowns offer, and promised to comply with their de- \nmands, concerning a Deed of his Right in said River.\" \n\n\n834 • TOWN CONTENTIONS. 1757- \n\nIt was then voted that, after the committee had done \nwhat they shouhl see cause to do about clearing the \nriver, Mr. Vinton should be at \"liberty to take away \nthe remainder of the stuff, at any time at his leisure.\" \n\nYet another meeting was held before this matter \nwas fully disposed of. There seems to have been a \nstrong feeling that the town had dealt too liberally \nwith Vinton. Accordingly, the meeting had hardly \ncome to order and chosen its moderator when \" Peter \nMarquand appeared and declared that he had no \nwarning to the meeting, and therefore desired his de- \nsent might be entered against the meeting and all \nthat might be therein Transacted.\" Nevertheless, the \ntown proceeded to tax itself to the amount of the \nthree hundred pounds which it had agreed to pay Mr. \nVinton. But its action did not pass without a strong \nprotest from the minority. No less than twenty-four \npersons insisted upon having their names recorded in \nopposition. \n\nIn the record for the year 1757 there is another \npassage which shows in a curious way how thoroughly \nthe parliamentary system had become a part of politi- \ncal habit. In the rough town-meeting they evinced \nas much respect for precedent as was show^n at West- \nminster. They had their customs, with all the force \nof law. The question was on the election of select- \nmen. The record is as follows : — \n\n\" The votes being called for brot in and examined it ap- \npeared that Coll. Josiah Quincy, Mr. Jonathan Allen, Mr. \nBenjamin Porter were chosen by a majority of votes, Capt. \nRichard Brackett and Capt. Eben Thayer, Junr., were \nchosen according to the usual custom of said Town as hav- \ning more votes than any others, and were Declared Select- \nmen by the Moderator according to the custom of said \n\n\n1755-9. KING GEORGE'S WAR. 835 \n\nTown. Upon which and much Dispute Respecting the Le- \ngallity of the aforesaid choice, Messrs. William Penniman, \nSamuel Bass, Peter Adams, Jonathan Rawson, Ehenezer \nAdams, John Adams, John Hunt, Samuel Bass, Junr., \njosiah Capen, and John Clark Entered their Dissent against \nthe proceedings of the said meeting. After much Debate \nRespecting the Legallity of Capt. Brackett and Capt. \nThayers choice as Selectmen the Question was put by the \nModr. whether the Town would then confii'm said choice. \nVoted and passed in the affirmative.\" \n\nThe last struggle with the French and Indians was at \nthis time already two years old. Braddock had been \ndefeated before Fort Duquesne in July, 1755, and in \nMay, 1756, war between Great Britain and France was \nformally declared. It was the great administration \nof William Pitt, and the province resounded with war- \nlike preparations as expedition on expedition went \nforth ; but, through all the din, Braintree seems to \nhave pursued the absolutely even tenor of its ancient \nways. In the records of the town there is no trace of \nfamous ev^ents. The usual town-meetings were held, \nbut even less than the usual interest attached to them. \nQuestions of commons and ways were discussed ; fines \nwere imposed or remitted ; schools were provided for ; \nand from £60 to £150 was annually ordered to be \nlevied to meet current expenses : but of the stress of \nwar in the form of calls for men, supplies and money \nthere is no indication. Yet these must have come and \nbeen felt, and that severely, for a partial examination \nof the provincial muster-rolls has shown that between \n1756 and 1760 more than two hundred Braintree \nmen did military service. Some were impressed ; the \ngreater number volunteered. Twenty-eight took part \nin the unfortunate Crown Point expedition of 1756, \n\n\n836 COLONIAL WARS. 1758-9. \n\nserving during that season only. Hutchinson says \nthat '' when the main body of the enemy went back to \nCanada, the provincial army broke up and returned to \nthe government in which it had been raised. Many \nhad deserted and more had died while they lay en- \ncamped. Many died upon the road, and many died \nof the camp distemper after they were at home.\" \n\nThe following year the capitulation of Fort AVilliam \nHenry to Montcalm and the subsequent massacre of \nits garrison by savages spread a panic all through \nNew England. Those living west of the Connecticut \nwere ordered to destroy their wheel carriages and to \ndrive in their cattle, while the authorities hoped to \nhold the line of that river. Nearly the whole military \nforce of the colony was called to arms, and, from \nBraintree, Capt. Peter Thayer's company was marched \nas far as Roxbury. They lay there in camp for some \ndays ; and then, the alarm having subsided, returned \nhome. Some seven or eight Braintree men are known \nto have been in the garrison of Fort AVilliam Henry \nat the time of the surrender. \n\nThe next year, in response to the strong, personal \nappeal of Pitt, Massachusetts put forth what she then \nsupposed to be her utmost efforts. A levy of seven \nthousand men was ordered. Forty-five hundred only \ncould be raised by voluntary enlistment, and the re- \nmainder had to be drafted. They composed part of \nthe force intended to operate against Ticonderoga, at \nthe head of w^hich Lord Howe was killed. In it were \nat least thirty men from Braintree ; and during the \nsame season twelve more enlisted on the ship of war \nKing George. The year ensuing (1759) saw the \nfall of Quebec, and brought the war to a practical \nclose. While Wolfe, with his regulars moved against \n\n\n1759. ENLISTMENTS. 837 \n\nQuebec, the provincial levies relieved the garrisons of \n^ ova Scotia. To this force Braintree contributed a \nquota of some forty men, while more took part in the \noperations under Amherst which resulted in the fall \nof Ticonderoga and Crown Point. \n\nThe terms of enlistment during this war were short, \nand the name of the same man often appears more \nthan once on the rolls. But during those three years \nit is probably safe to say that Braintree furnished, \napart from the promenade of Captain Thayer's com- \npany in August, 1757, one hundred different men for \nactual service. The population of the town was then \nabout two thousand, of whom some five hundred were \nmales above sixteen. From this it would appear that \nat least one man in each five of those belonging to the \ntown, who, during the war, were capable of bearing \narms, was put into the field. \n\n\nCHAPTER XVI. \n\nTHE REVOLUTIONARY EPOCH. \n\nWith the close of tlie French war a new generation \ncame on the Braintree stage. The last recorded ap- \npearance of John Quincy at the town-meetings was \nin September, 1758, and Deacon John Adams, though \na selectman in 1758, was not again chosen to that \noffice, and died two years later. But in 1761, though \nhis name does not appear on the records, the younger \nJohn Adams has asserted that he was chosen surveyor \nof highways, and from this time forward his presence \nin the town made itself perceptibly felt. The active, \ninquiring mind was at work impelled by all the ner- \nvous energy of youth. \n\nMeanwhile new issues began to take shape. The \nreport in favor of selling the north commons, and thus \nfinally disposing of a matter of long standing contro- \nversy, was presented at the town-meeting of April 1, \n1765, just ten days before Parliament passed the \nStamp Act. When the news of the passage of that \nact reached New England it caused prodigious excite- \nment everywhere. In Braintree John Adams took \nthe matter up at once. He says, — \n\n\" I drew up a petition to the selectmen of Braintree, and \nprocured it to be signed by a number of the respectable in- \nhabitants, to call a meeting of the town to instruct their rep- \nresentative in relation to the stamps.\" \n\nThe town met in the Middle Precinct meeting-house \n\n\n1765. THE STAMP ACT. 839 \n\non the 24tli of September. Norton Quincy was chosen \nmoderator. Mr. Adams then goes on, — \n\n\" I prepared a draught of instructions at home and carried \nthem with me. The cause of the meeting was explained at \nsome length, and the state and danger of the country pointed \nout ; a committee was appointed to prepare instructions, of \nwhich I was nominated as one. We retired to Mr. Niles' \nhouse ; my draught was produced, and unanimously adoj^ted \nwithout amendment, reported to the town, and accepted \nwithout a dissenting voice. These were published in Dra- \nper's paper, as that printer first applied to me for a coj^y. \nThey were decided and spirited enough. They rang through \nthe state and were adopted in so many words, as I was in- \nformed by the representatives of that year, by forty towns, \nas instructions to their representatives.\" \n\nThese instructions were printed in the Boston Ga- \nzette of October 14, 17G5, and in comparing them \nwith some of an opposite nature coming simultane- \nously from the tov^Ti of Marblehead, a correspondent \nof the Evening Post picked out at the time one para- \ngraph as \" worthy to be wrote in letters of gold.\" It \nwas the following : — \n\n\" We further Recommend the most Clear and explicit \nassertion and vindication of our Rights and Liberties to be \nentered on the Public Records that the world may know in \nthe Present and all future Generations, that we have a clear \nknowledge and a just sense of those Rights and Liberties and \nthat with submission to devine Providence, we never can be \nslaves.\" \n\nThe authorship of this paper brought the young \nBraintree lawyer into popular prominence, and upon \nthe 18th of the following December the town of Boston \nretained him to appear with Gridley and Otis before \nthe Governor and Council in support of the memorial \n\n\n840 THE REVOLUTIONARY EPOCH. 17Go-G. \n\npraying that the courts of law might be opened. It \nwas a week hiter, on Christmas day, that he and his \nwife \" drank tea at Grandfather Quincy's \" at Mount \nWollaston, and found the '' old gentleman inquisitive \nabout the hearing.\" A few days after, referring to the \ndangers of the times, he wrote in his diary, — \" Let \nthe towns and the representatives renounce every stamp \nman and every trinmier next May ! \" That slow and \nfamiliar process of popular education through which a \nwhole people is gradually worked up to the war pitch \nwas now going on. It was the same process in 1765 \nwhich had been witnessed in England one hundred and \nthirty years before, and which was again to be wit- \nnessed in America ninety years later, — the process \nby which, as the necessity for action becomes gradu- \nally apparent, the spirit of conservatism, expressed \nthrough doubts and fears and efforts at compromise, \nis slowly overcome. During the winter of 1765-6, \nyoung John Adams probably felt some anxiety in re- \ngard to the attitude of Braintree, for the North Pre- \ncinct, he afterwards declared in a letter which has been \nprinted, was at that time \" a very focus of Episcopal \nbigotry, intrigue, intolerance and persecution.\" The \nlocal Episcopal influence was certainly great, and one \nof its prominent representatives was on the board of \nselectmen. On the other hand, so intense was the pop- \nular feeling, that politics had now fairly taken pos- \nsession of the orthodox Massachusetts pulpit. For \ninstance, the Rev. Ebenezer Gay, of Hingham, had \npreached a Tlianksgiving sermon in which he incul- \ncated distinctly submission to authority and a resource \nto \" prayers and tears, not clubs.\" This discourse \ngreatly disturbed the Hingham people, who persuaded \nthemselves that their worthy pastor had the stamps in \n\n\n17GG. THE CHURCH PEOPLE. 841 \n\nliis house, and they even threatened to go and search \nit for them. The feeling was not allayed when, the \nnext Sabbath, Parson Smith, of Weymouth, preached \na sermon in the Ilingham pulpit in which he recom- \nmeiuled obedience to good rules and a spirited opposi- \ntion to bad ones, interspersed with a good deal of ani- \nmated declamation upon liberty and the times. A \nmonth later Parson AVibird alarmed his parishioners \nby announcing the following as the text of his dis- \ncourse : — \" Hear, O heavens, and give ear, O earth ! \nI have nourished and brought up children, and they \nhave rebelled against me.\" John Adams goes on : — \n\n\" I began to suspect a Tory sermon on the times from this \ntext, but the preacher confined himself to spirituals. But, I \nexpect, if the tories should become the strongest, we shall \nhear many sermons against the ingratitude, injustice, dis- \nloyalty, treason, rebellion, impiety, and ill policy of refusing \nobedience to the vStamp Act. The church clergy, to be \nsure, will be very eloquent.\" \n\nMajor Miller was then one of the board of select- \nmen. The Millers, the Veaseys and the Cleverly s \nwere all churchmen, and their names will presently be \nfound in the town records as those of political \" sus- \npects ; \" but none the less we get from John Adams' \ndiary not unpleasant glimpses of those thus compos- \ning a little knot of Church of England loyalists and \nconservatives in a Massachusetts country tow^n of the \npre - revolutionary period. Here, for instance, is a \npen-and-ink sketch of him who was subsequently the \nteacher of the deserted and fallen church : — \n\n\" December 26, 1758. Tuesday. Being the evening \nafter Christmas, the Doctor [Savil] and I spent the evening \nwith Mr. Cleverly and Major Miller. Mr. Cleverly was \ncheerful, alert, sociable and complaisant ; so much good sense \n\n\n842 THE REVOLUTIONARY EPOCH. 1766. \n\nand good knowledge, so nmcli good humor and contentment, \nand so much poverty, are not to be found in any other house, \nI believe, in this j)rovince. I am amazed that a man of his \ningenuity and sprightliness can be so shiftless.\" \n\nAnd again, at the time of the resistance to the \nStani]) Act : — \n\n\" December 29, 1765. Sunday. The church people are, \nmany of them, favorers of the Stamp Act at present. Major \nMiller, forsooth, is veiy fearful that they will be stomachful \nat home, and angry and resentful. Mr. Veasey insists upon \nit, that we ought to pay our proportion of the public burdens. \nMr. Cleverly is fully convinced that they, that is Parliament, \nhave a right to tax us ; he thinks it is wrong to go on with \nbusiness ; we had better stop and wait till Spring, till we \nhear from home. He says we [the patriots] put the best \nface upon it ; that letters have been received in Boston, from \nthe greatest merchants in the nation, blaming our proceed- \nings, and that the merchants don't second us. ... He says \nthat things go on here exactly as they did in the reign of \nKing Charles I., ' that blessed saint and martyr. ' \" \n\nThen a few days later : — \n\n\"January 10, 1766. Friday. Mr. Cleverly here in the \nevening. He says he is not so clear as he was that the Par- \nliament has a right to tax us ; he rather thinks it has not. \nThus the contagion of the times has caught even that bigot \nto passive obedience and non-resistance ; it has made him \nwaver. It is almost the first time I ever knew lilm con- \nverted, or even brought to doubt and hesitate about any of \nhis favorite points, as the authority of Parliament to tax us \nwas one. Nay, he used to assert positively that the King \nwas as absolute in the plantations as the Great Turk in his \ndominions.\" \n\nAs the day in March approached when town officers \nfor 1766-7 were to be chosen, Braintree was alive with \n\n\n1766. TOWN-MEETING DAY. 843 \n\nexcitement and intrigue. The church party was anx- \nious not to lose the degree of influence it still had, and \nits members accordingly professed to have seen new \nlight. This fully accounted for the fact that Mr. \nCleverly was not so clear as he had been that Parlia- \nment had the right to tax the colonies ; and, indeed, \nwas inclined to think it had not. For selectmen the \nEpiscopal faction proposed a combination ticket, — \nColonel Josiah Quincy and Major Ebenezer Miller, \nthe former being a stanch patriot. At last the day for \nthe town-meeting came, and John Adams, who long \nafterwards spoke of it as \" the first popular struggle \nof the Revolution in the town of Braintree,\" thus at \nthe moment described what took place : — \n\n<' My brother Peter, Mr. Etter, and Mr. Field, having a \nnumber of votes prepared for Mr. Quincy and me, set them- \nselves to scatter them. The town had been very silent and \nstill, my name had never been mentioned, nor had our \nfriends ever talked of any new selectmen at all, excepting \nin the South Precinct ; but as soon as they found there was \nan attempt to be made they fell in and assisted, and al- \nthough there were six different hats with votes for as many \ndifferent persons, besides a considerable number of scatter- \ning votes, I had the major vote of the assembly the first \ntime. Mr. Quincy had more than one hundred and sixty \nvotes. I had but one vote more than half. . . . Etter and \nmy brother took a skillful method. . . . Many persons, I \nhear, acted slyly and deceitfully ; this is always the case. \n. . . Mr. Jo. Bass was extremely sorry for the loss of Major \nMiller ; he would never come to another meeting. Mr. Jo. \nCleverly could not account for many things done at town- \nmeetings.\" \n\nThis was the meeting at which the popular party \nachieved only a partial victory, owing to the fact that \n\n\n844 THE REVOLUTIONARY EPOCH. 17G6. \n\n*' the nortli end people,\" after voting for \" Cornet \nBass \" once, \"\" withdrew for refreshment,\" and while \nthey were congregated before the bar of Ebenezer \nThayer's tavern, just across the road, another vote \nwas taken, and their candidate defeated. A fortnight \nlater, on the 18th of March, the newly chosen select- \nman met Major Miller, who, though a Tory then and \nafterwards, was a worthy man and useful member of \nhis church and town. The successful candidate gave \nthis account of the interview : — \n\n\" Went to Weymouth ; ... on my return stopped at \nMr. Jo. Bass's for the papers. [This was the tavern at the \ncentre of the North Precinct.] Major Miller soon after- \nwards came in, and he and I looked on each other without \nwrath or shame or guilt, at least without any great degree \nof either, though I nmst own I did not feel exactly as I used \nto in his company, and I am sure by his face and eyes that \nhe did not in mine. We were very social, etc.\" \n\nSix weeks later Mr. Adams wrote : — \n\n\" May 4. Sunday. Returning from meeting this morn- \ning, I saw for the first time a likely young buttonwood tree, \nlately planted on the triangle made by the three roads, by \nthe house of Mr. James Bracket. The tree is well set, well \nguarded, and has on it an inscription, 'The Tree of Liberty, \nand cursed is he who cuts this tree !'...! never heard a \nhint of it till I saw it, but I hear that some persons grum- \nble, and threaten to girdle it.\" \n\nPlanted at a point almost exactly midway between \nthe site of the old stone meeting-house of the previ- \nous century and the place where Christ church then \nstood, — a point where the Plymouth road, winding \nBoston-ward, turned sharply to the north, and was \njoined by the town-way leading to the landing on the \nriver, — a more prominent spot on which to set a \n\n\n17G6. \" THE TREE OF LIBERTY:' 845 \n\nLiberty Tree could not have been selected in Brain- \ntree. John Adams must have gone by it each Sab- \nbath as he walked or drove with his young, newly \nmarried wife from the old dwelling at the foot of \nPenn's Hill to the meeting-house, shortly before they \ncame to Bi-acket's tavern, after passing the Episcopal \nchurch. Whether that \" likely young buttonwood \" \nremained there and throve, or, neglected during the \ntroubled years that ensued, was allowed to languish \nand die, does not appear. No other mention of it is \nrecorded ; and, so long ago that no tradition of it \nlingers, it vanished away from what is now the busy \ncentre at which four crowded thoroughfares meet. \n\nOn the 16th of May, 1766, news of the repeal of \nthe Stamp Act reached Boston and was the cause of \ngeneral rejoicing. For some reason the event was not \nnoticed in Braintree, which John Adams pronounced \n\"insensible to the common joy,\" declaring that a \nduller day he did not remember to have passed. Yet \nthere was a town-meeting held, and Ebenezer Thayer \nwas chosen representative. Two more town-meetings \nwere held that year, at each of which the question of \ngranting compensation from the treasury of the prov- \nince to the sufferers by the August riots of 1765 in \nBoston came up for discussion. Like many other \ntowns, Weymouth for instance, Braintree at first in- \nstructed its representative to vote against the proposed \nindemnity. The inhabitants desired \" att all times to \nbear their testimony against such unlawful and abu- \nsive practices, but as they were in no wise accessary \nto the mischief committed they do not judge they can \nbe justly charged with the Damages.\" At another \nmeeting held in December, Mr. Thaj^er was instructed \nto vote for indemnity. \n\n\n84(3 THE REVOLUTIONARY EPOCH. 17G6-8. \n\nIn the following March, Norton Quiney and John \nAdams were again elected selectmen, and Major Mil- \nler appears at the head of the fence-viewers and sur- \nveyors of highways ; but the next year John Adams, \nwho was then in active law practice in Boston, asked \nto be excused from further service. Not only did the \ntown excuse him, but it passed a formal vote thank- \ning him '' for his services as selectman for two years \npast.\" There is no other case of such a vote of \nthanks, and the occasion for it does not appear. Mr. \nAdams may have declined to receive pay for his \nservices ; but if he did, the fact was not stated. \nThough fast rising into professional eminence, he was \nat the time a man of only thirty, and there seems no \nreason why a town which for generations had seen \ncolonels and judges and counsellors serving it as select- \nmen should have been especially grateful to the son \nof Deacon Adams because he filled for a brief period \nthe office to which his father had been thirteen times \nelected. It would seem probable, therefore, his ser- \nvices were, for reasons' which do not now appear, \nknown to have been of peculiar value. \n\nAfter the repeal of the Stamp Act there was a \nlull in political agitation, — the action of Parliament \n\"hushed into silence almost every popular clamor, \nand composed every wave of popular disorder,\" and \nit was asserted that the people of Massachusetts were \nthen \" as little inclined to tumults, riots, seditions, as \nthey were ever known to be since the first foundations \nof the government.\" ^ The calm did not last long. It \nwas in March, 1766, that the Stamp Act was repealed, \nand in May, 1767, Charles Townshend brought before \nthe House of Commons the first of those Revenue \n\n1 John Adams, Works, ii. 203. \n\n\n1768. BOSTON APPEALS. 847 \n\nActs which cuhninated seven years later in the Bos- \nton Port Bill. The popular alarm over Townshend's \ninitial measure is next reflected in the record of town- \nmeetings, and the warrant for that in Braintree at \nwhich John Adams declined reelection as selectman \ncontained an article for the town to agree upon \" some \neffectual Method to promote Economy, Industry and \nManufactures, thereljy to prevent the unnecessary im- \nportation of European commodities, which threaten \nthe country with poverty and Ruin.\" \n\nThis was in March, 1768, and a few months later \nthe rumor crept abroad that regiments of British \nsoldiers were to be brought from Halifax and Ireland \nto overawe the Massachusetts colony. Boston again \ntook the lead in agitation, and a formal committee \nfrom its town-meeting waited on Governor Bernard, \nasking, in view of the well-authenticated character of \nthe rumor, that the General Court should be called \ntogether. It was not supposed that this request would \nbe complied with ; but the refusal to comply with it \ngave the popular leaders a pretext for taking the next \nstep to which they now saw their way, and the town of \nBoston by circular letters invited all the other towns \nto choose delegates to a convention. As Hutchinson \nsaid, this act \" had a greater tendency towards a \nrevolution in government than any preceding measure \nin any of the colonies. The inhabitants of one town \nalone took upon them to convene an assembly from \nall the towns, that, in everything but in name, would \nbe a house of representatives.\" This was the exact \nstate of the case. The appeal was direct to the New \nEngland town system. In that system, acting through \ntown-meetings called in a strictly legal way, the popu- \nlar leaders saw the material for a complete political \n\n\n848 THE REVOLUTIONARY EPOCH. 1768. \n\norganization. The units being of one mind, the way \nwas open to a reorganization of the whole ; and the \nslow growth of a hundred and thirty years was now to \nproduce its results. Without having recourse to any \nsuddenly improvised political machinery, with no noise \nor confusion, but acting quietly through their accus- \ntomed local organizations, the people of Massachu- \nsetts were in the most natural manner conceivable \nabout in one moment to take the management of their \naffairs into their own hands. \n\nIn this work Braintree only did its share. John \nAdams had removed to Boston, and was now busy \nwith his law books ; though both this year and the \nyear after he drew up the Boston instructions to its \nrejjresentatives. When the Braintree town-meeting \nwas held, on the 26th of September, Colonel Josiah \nQuincy and Ebenezer Thayer were chosen to repre- \nsent the town in the proposed convention. A letter \nof instructions to them was at the same meeting read \nand approved, and ordered to be spread on the rec- \nords, two pages of which are covered by it. \n\nThese instructions — and during this period many \nsimilar papers were entered in the records of the \ntown — are no longer interesting reading. Though \nhistorically of value, they relate to issues long since \ndecided, and set forth principles which few now take \nthe trouble to dispute. Generally well written, though \nin the somewhat turgid style of the day, they almost \nalways show a clear idea in the mind of him who pre- \npared the paper, not only of what was wanted, but of \nthe means through which it was proposed to get it. \nThat such papers should have emanated at once from \nso many towns in the province shows the generally \nhigh standard of political thought then prevailing. \n\n\n17G5-7G. TOWN STATE PAPERS. 849 \n\nNor were these papers the work of a few leaders in \nadvance of the people. The whole popular column \nwas moving together. The instructions, prepared by \ncommittees, were read, discussed and understood in \ntown-meeting. Those of Weymouth were cast in the \nsame mould as those of Braintree. It was one voice ; \nand it emitted no uncertain sound. It was the voice \nof an intelligent people moving by an accustomed \npath towards a given end which they distinctly saw. \nHence there was nothing strange, irregular or mob- \nlike in their action. Even when engaged in a revolu- \ntion they elaborately argued every measure, and took \neach new step in careful conformity with law and \nprecedent. \n\nBetween September, 1765, and September, 1776, \nthere are seven of these state papers, as they may \nproperly be called, entered at length on the Braintree \nrecords, filling eighteen closely-written folio pages. \nThe town's instructions to its representative in rela- \ntion to the Stamp Act come first in the series ; the last \nin it is the Declaration of Independence. Between \nthese are the instructions to Colonel Quincy and Eb- \nenezer Thayer, delegates to the Boston convention of \nSeptember, 1768; the resolutions of March 1, 1773, \nin response to the circular report of the committee of \ncorrespondence of the Boston town-meeting of October \n28, 1772 ; the report and resolves on taxation without \nrepresentation of March 11. 1774 ; the brief instruc- \ntions of January 23, 1775, to Deacon Joseph Palmer, \ntown delegate to the Provincial Congress held at \nCambridge ; and, March 15th, the full covenant for \nnon-importation, non-consumption and non-exportation \nthen recommended by the Continental Congress. \n\nEvents now moved rapidly. On the 18th of the \n\n\n850 THE REVOLUTIONARY EPOCH. 1773-4. \n\nfollowing December, the tea was thrown into the \ndocks of Boston, Deacon Palmer's son from Braintree \naidinj]: in the work. On the 1st of the followino^ \nJune, Governor Hutchinson sailed away into life-long \nexile, and the same day the Boston Port Bill went \ninto effect. During June, also, the General Court \nappointed five delegates to represent the province in \nthe first Continental Congress ; and August 10th, \nJohn Adams set off with his colleagues for Philadel- \nphia, having previously moved his wife and family \nback to Braintree from their home in Queen Street, \nBoston. On the 22d of August Braintree appointed \nDeacon Palmer, Colonel Thayer and Captain Penni- \nman its delegates to the county convention, and like- \nwise its committee of correspondence ; a larger body \nof six, at the head of which was Norton Quincy, was \nlikewise instructed to act as a sort of committee of \npublic safety. \n\nFor this latter committee there was then supposed \nto be special need in Braintree. The towTi powder \nwas stored in a small building on the common in the \nXorth Precinct, and some anxiety was felt as to its \nsafety. Owing to the presence of the Church of \nEngland people, the North Precinct was looked upon \nas a Tory hot-bed. Pai-ty feeling there certainly ran \nhigh, \" and very hard words and threats of blows \nupon both sides were given out.\" In the cour.se of \nthe month of September, General Gage sent two com- \npanies of soldiers over to Charlestown, and .secured \nsome ammunition stored there. This led to a tumul- \ntuous gathering the next day at Cambridge, and the \nexcitement soon spread through the neighboring \ntowns. Mrs. John Adams then tells the story of \nwhat occurred in Braintree : — \n\n\n1774. THE TOWN POWDER. 851 \n\n''The report took here on Friday, and on Sunday a \nsoldier was seen lurking about the Common, supposed to be \na spy. but most likely a deserter. However, intelligence of \nit was communicated to the other parishes, and about eight \no'clock Sunday evening there passed by here about two \nhundred men, preceded by a horse-cart, and marched down \nto the powder-house, from whence they took the powder, \nand carried it into the other parish, and there secreted it. \nI opened the %viudow upon their return. They passed \nwithout any noise, not a word among them until they came \nagainst this house, when some of them, perceiving me, \nasked me if I wanted any powder. I replied, ' No, since it \nis in such good hands.* The reason they gave for taking it \nwas that we had so many Tories here they dared not trust \nus with it ; they had taken Vinton ^ in their train, and upon \ntheir return they stopped between Cleverly's and Etter's \nand called upon him to deliver two warrants. Upon his \nproducing them, they put it to vote whether they should \nburn them, and it passed in the affirmative. They then \nmade a circle and burnt them. They tlien called a vote \nwhether they should huzza, but. it being Sunday evening, it \npassed in the negative. They called upon Vinton to swear \nthat he would never be instrumental in carrying into execu- \ntion any of these new acts. They were not satisfied with \nhis answers : however, they let him rest. A few days \nafterwardsj upon his making some foolish speeches, they \nassembled to the amount of two or three hundred, and \nswore vengeance upon him unless he took a solemn oath. \nAccordingly, they chose a committee and sent it with him to \nMajor Miller's to see that he complied ; and they waited \nhis return, which, proving satisfactory, they dispersed. \nThis town appears as high as you can well imagine, and, \nif necessary, would soon be in arms. Not a Tory but hides \nhis head.\" \n\n^ Captain John Vinton, afterwards of the Continental Army ; but \nthen deputy sheriff. {Vinton Memorial, 57-61.) \n\n\n852 THE REVOLUTIONARY EPOCH. 1774-7. \n\nThe powder was removed on Sunday, September \n4th, and the alarm caused among the Episcopalians \nby such 2)roceeding was naturally great. Their sym- \npathizers were almost wholly confined to Boston, and \naccordingly exaggerated rumors soon began to get \ncurrency there of the dangers to which Mr. Winslow \nand the members of the Braintree society were ex- \nposed. Lexington and Concord were still six months \nin the future, and public feeling had not yet reached \nthe pitch of intolerance to which it subsequently rose ; \naccordingly these rumors so scandalized the law- \nabiding sentiment of Braintree, that early in October \nthe matter was brought to the notice of an adjourned \ntown-meeting, which passed a vote declaring the re- \nport \" Malicious, false and injurious, and calculated \nto defame this Town ... we being as ready to allow \nthat right of private judgment to others which we \ndaim for ourselves.\" \n\nThree years more passed away before the persecu- \ntion of the Tories in Braintree became open and pro- \nnounced, and during the intervening time they were \ncertainly treated with no little forbearance. Even \nafter the Declaration of Independence had been read \nfrom the North Precinct pulpit and entered in the \nrecords of the town, Mrs. Adams, on the 29th of \nSeptember, 1776, wrote to her husband : — \" The \nchurch is opened here every Sunday, and the king \nprayed for, as usual, in open defiance of Congress.\" \nIn reply, he expressed his surprise at \"prayers in \npublic for an abdicated king,\" and declared that \nnothing of the kind was heard anywhere in the coun- \ntry except New York and Braintree. \" This prac- \ntice,\" he added, \"is treason against the state, and \ncannot be long tolerated.\" Outwardly, and in other \n\n\n1777. ''ESTEEMED INIMICAL:' 853 \n\nrespects, Mr. Winslow was probably more discreet, \nbut it has already been observed that he felt bound by \nhis ordination oath to conform literally to the ritual ; \nand he did so, until at last the long-suppressed popu- \nlar feeling found open expression. In June, 1777, a \ntown-meeting was called for the purpose of agreeing \nupon a list of those persons dwelling in Braintree who \nwere \" esteemed inimical \" to the popular cause. The \nnames of nine persons were reported, among them \nbeing those of the rector, Mr. Winslow, Mr. Cleverly, \n— John Adams' neighbor, — and Major Miller, a few \nyears before one of the selectmen, and to these nine \nnames the town by vote added four others. All of \nthe persons named it was then voted were \" esteemed \ninimical,\" and William Penniman was chosen to pro- \ncure evidence of their disloyalty and lay it before the \ncourt. \n\nThe coming event had cast its shadow before, and \non the 2d of Aj^ril, Mrs. Adams wrote : — \" The \nChurch doors were shut up last Sunday in conse- \nquence of a presentiment ; a farewell sermon preached \nand much weeping and wailing ; persecuted, be sure, \nbut not for righteousness' sake.\" The action of the \ntown two months later was in the nature of a formal \nindictment of the whole society, for among the names \nof those recorded as \" inimical \" were its rector, its \nwardens and all its leading members. Yet Mr. Wins- \nlow alone would seem to have left the town, his occu- \npation being gone. Against the other members of \nthe society proceedings do not seem to have been \npressed, and afterwards they all became good citizens \nof the United States, their names again appearing in \nthe Braintree and Quincy records, and, at last, on the \nstones in the little Episcopal graveyard. Later, a \n\n\n854 THE REVOLUTIONARY EPOCH. 17;7. \n\ncertain amount of property in Braintree was seized \nand sold because of Tory ownership, but it belonged \nchiefly to non-residents. Thus the Tory persecution \nin Braintree, though it unquestionably made the lives \nof those suspected miserable enough at the time, \nseems, so far as actual residents in the town were \nconcerned, to have resulted only in the expatriation \nof Samuel Quincy and the Rev. Edward Winslow. \nThe other suspects, quietly accepting the situation, \nmade the best of it ; and, as is not unusual in such \ncases, found it in the close far less unendurable than, \ndoubtless, they had gloomily anticipated. \n\nReturning to the autumn of 1774, after the seizure \nof the powder on the 4th of September Braintree was \nalive with rumors and military preparation. On her \nway home from a visit to Salem, Mrs. Adams stopped \nat her house in Boston, and thence wrote to her hus- \nband on September 24th : — \n\n\" ' In time of peace prepare for war ' (if this may be \ncalled a time of peace) resounds throughout the country. \nNext Tuesday they are warned at Braintree, all above fif- \nteen and under sixty, to attend with their arms ; and to \ntrain once a fortnight from that time is a scheme which lies \nmuch at the heart with many.\" \n\nShe then goes on to speak of a conspiracy among \nthe negroes in Boston, which, it was supposed, had \njust been discovered, and she adds, — \n\n\" There is but little said, and what steps they will take in \nconsequence of it I know not. I wish most sincerely there \nwas not a slave in the province ; it always appeared a most \niniquitous scheme to me to fight ourselves for what we are \ndaily robbing and plundering from those who have as good \na right to freedom as we have. You know my mind on this \nsubject.\" \n\n\n17'5. MINUTE-MEN, 855 \n\nIn the form of covenant \" very unanimously \" \nadopted in the Braintree town-meeting of 15th March \nfollowing the date of this letter there appears this \nclause, — \n\n\" We will neither import, or purchase any slave imported \nsince the first day of December last, and will wholly discon- \ntinue the slave trade ; and will neither be concerned in it \nourselves, nor will we hire our vessels, nor sell our commod- \nities or manufactures to those who are concerned in it.\" \n\nThe two utterances, taken together, are significant, \nfor Mr. Adams returned from Philadelphia in Octo- \nber, 1774, and, having passed the winter at home, it \nwas he, doubtless, who drafted the covenant. As \nsoon as the covenant was adopted he came forward \nwith another report as chairman of a committee on \nminute-men, in accordance with the recommendations \ncontained in which, it was voted to raise three com- \npanies, one in each precinct, to be composed of forty- \none men each, including officers. Provision had al- \nready been made in January for military drill, and \npayment for attendance thereat ; and now the minute- \nmen in prompt attendance were to receive \" one shil- \nling and four pence per day for one day in every \nweek, and the selectmen were directed to supply the \nofficers of the three companies with money to pay off \nsaid men day by day ; \" and if there were no funds \nin the treasury they were to borrow on the town's \ncredit. The affair of Lexington and Concord occurred \non the 19th of April, and on the 24th the adjourned \ntown-meeting directed the selectmen to \" dismiss Mr. \nRice, their Grammar School master, as soon as their \npresent engagements are expired.\" Evidently it was \nthought there was no money for anything but men \nand munitions ; and ten days later Mrs. Adams wrote \n\n\n856 THE REVOLUTIONARY EPOCH. May, \n\nto her husband : — \" Mr. Kice is going into the army \nas captain of a company. We have no school. I \nknow not what to do with John.\" This John was her \noldest son, John Quincy, then a boy of seven, to \nwhom, eighteen months later, she again refers as hav- \ning \" become post-rider from Boston to Braintree.\" \n\nIt was the general belief, after the affair of Lexing- \nton and Concord had tightened the lines about Boston, \nthat the need of supplies would oblige General Gage \nto send out boat parties along the shore under pro- \ntection of the fleet. As one of the salt-water neigh- \nborhoods, the North Precinct was accordingly in great \nand perpetual terror of forays. On the 4th of May, \nMrs. Adams wrote : — \" There has been no descent \nupon the seacoast. Guards are regularly kept.\" \nThe wddow of Josiah Quincy, Jr., who had died only \na few weeks before, was then at the house of her \nfather-in-law in the North Precinct, — the house, al- \nready referred to, in which President Josiah Quincy, \nof Harvard College, subsequently lived and died. On \nSaturday, April 29th, Mrs. Adams went to see her \nthere, \" and in the afternoon, from an alarm they had \nshe and her sister with three others of the family, \ntook refuge with [Mrs. Adams] and tarried all night.\" \nA little later Colonel Quincy arranged with Deacon \nHolbrook, of the Middle Precinct, for a place of re- \ntreat, if he needed one ; and Mr. Cranch, who lived at \nGermantown, did the same with Major Bass. Mrs. \nAdams herself secured a refuge at the house of her \nhusband's brother. \n\nSo things went on from day to day, the now inev- \nitable conflict drawing always nearer. At last, on \nSunday morning. May 21st, Braintree had a veritable \nalarm, — the enemy was actually at its door. Three \n\n\n1775. A FORAGING PARTY. 857 \n\nsloops and a cutter had come out from Boston harbor \nand dropped anchor in Weymouth fore-river, not far \nfrom Germantown. Before six o'clock alarm-guns \nwere heard, and shortly after the bells began to ring. \nThen at tap of drum the minute-men fell in on the \ntraining-field. The panic was great, especially in \nWeymouth, and men, women and children came flock- \ning over the Plymouth road and down Penn's Hill \nto Braintree. The wildest rumors were circulated. \nThree hundred men had been landed ! They were \nmarching into Weymouth village ! They were com- \ning to Germantown ! Meanwhile the companies of \nminute-men came rapidly in, showing sufficiently well \nwhat a hornet's nest the region was. They came from \ndistances of twenty miles and more, but those from \nBraintree were naturally among the first on the ground. \nElihu Adams, a younger son of Deacon John Adams, \nwho afterwards died of dysentery contracted in camp \nduring the siege of Boston, was in command of the \nBraintree company, and also one of the party which \nwent out to drive the marauders away from Sheep \nIsland, where they were foraging. This they suc- \nceeded in doing without loss to themselves. \n\nThrouofh all these events Mrs. Adams wrote that \nher house, being on the main road, was a scene of last- \ning confusion. \" Soldiers coming in for a lodging, \nfor breakfast, for supper, for drink, etc. Sometimes \nrefugees from Boston, tired and fatigued, seek an \nasylum for a day, a night, a week.\" More than fifty \nyears afterwards, while, during his term as President, \nJohn Quincy Adams was passing a few of the sum- \nmer weeks at Quincy, an elderly gentleman named \nGary, a resident of Bridgewater, called on him one day \nin relation to some appointment to office, and Mr. \nAdams noted in his diary, — \n\n\n858 THE REVOLUTIONARY EPOCH. June, \n\n\" Gary asked me if I remembered a company of militia \nwho, about the time of the battle of Lexington in 1775, came \ndown from Bridgewater, and passed the night at my father's \nhouse and barn, at the foot of Penn's Hill, and in the midst \nof whom my father ])laced me, then a boy between seven \nand eight years, and I went tlirough the manual exercise of \nthe musket by word of command from one of them. I told \nhim I remembered it as distinctly as if it had been last \nweek. He said he was one of that company. \" ^ \n\nA few weeks after this scene in the Penn's Hill barn \nJohn Adams was writing to his wife from Philadel- \nl^hia : — \" Let me caution you, my dear, to be upon \nyour guard against the multitude of affrights and \nalarms which, I fear, will surround you ; \" but a little \nlater he exclaims, — \" Oh, that I were a soldier ! I \nwill be ! I am reading military books. Everybody \nmust, and will, and shall be a soldier ! \" \n\nAll this was in May. At last, on the morning of \nSaturday, June 17th, a heavy cannonading to the \nnorthward awoke the town at early dawn. The Brit- \nish ships of war in Boston Harbor were firing at the \nbreastwork which had been thrown up the night before \non the crest of Bunker's Hill. The only records which \nhave come down to us showing how that day was \npassed by those dwelling in Braintree are found in a \nletter from Mrs. Adams to her husband, and in the \nlater recollections of her son.^ Restless with excite- \nment and suspense, unable to shut out the noise of the \ndistant cannon, the mother, then a woman of a little \nmore than thirty, taking with her the child of eight, \nwent out to the neighboring Penn's Hill, and climbing \nto its summit, looked towards Boston. It was a clear \n\n1 Memoirs, vii. 325. \n\n2 Mevioir of Eliza S. M. Quincy, 209. \n\n\n1775. BUNKER'S HILL. 859 \n\nJune day of intense heat, and across the blue bay they \nsaw, against the horizon, \\\\\\q dense black volume of \nsmoke which rolled away from the burning- houses of \nCharlestown. Over the crest of the distant hill hung: \nthe white clouds which told of the battle going on be- \nneath the smoke. There was withal something quite \ndramatic in the scene ; but, as the two sat there silent \nand trembling, the child's hand clasped in that of the \nmother, thinking now of what was taking place before \ntheir eyes, and now of the husband and father so far \naway at the Congress, they little dreamed of the great \nfuture for him and for the boy to be surely worked \nout in that conflict, the first pitched battle of which \nwas then being fought before them. \n\nNearly sixty years later, when recalling those events \nto memory, the son spoke of \" the deep and awful agi- \ntation of that day ; \" ^ but, with that same \"deep and \nawful agitation \" still surging in her breast, the very \nnext day, in the country quiet of a June Sunday, the \nmother wrote : — \n\n*' The battle began upon our intrenchments upon Bunker's \nHill Saturday morning, about three o'clock, and has not \nceased yet, and it is now three o'clock Sabbath afternoon. \nCharlestown is laid in ashes. It is expected they will come \nout over the Neck to-night, and a dreadful battle must en- \nsue. Almighty God, cover the heads of our countrymen, \nand be a shield to our dear friends ! How many have fallen \nwe know not. The constant roar of the cannon is so dis- \ntressing that we cannot eat, drink, or sleep. My bursting \nheart must find vent at my pen. ' The race is not to the \nswift, nor the battle to the strong ; but the God of Israel is \nHe that giveth strength and power unto his people. Trust \nin him at all times, ye peojjle, pour out your hearts before \nhim ; God is a refuge for us.' \" \n\n^ Memoirs, viii. 545. \n\n\n8G0 THE REVOLUTIONARY EPOCH. 1776. \n\nThere were no services held that Sunday in the \nNorth Precinct meeting-house, nor had there been on \nthe Sunday before. '* They delight in molesting us on \nthe Sabbath,\" wrote Mrs. Adams. But at last, on \nthe 25th of June, \" we have sat under our own vine \nin quietness ; have heard Mr. Taf t. The good man \nwas earnest and pathetic ; I could forgive his weak- \nness for the sake of his sincerity.\" Nor did her own \npastor fully meet the spiritual needs of this lady, for \npresently she speaks of him as \" our inanimate old \nbachelor,\" whom she \" could not bear to hear ; \" and \nthen says that he \" made the best oration (he never \nprays, you know) I ever heard from him.\" Two com- \npanies of soldiers were now stationed in the town, — \nthat of Captain Turner, at Germantown, and that of \nCaptain Vinton, at Squantum. Presently they were \nengaged in small affairs in the harbor; but, before \nthis, their presence led to a town-meeting episode \nwhich showed how the lessons of history were in- \ngrained in the people : the descendants of the Puri- \ntans bore freshly in memory the fact that Cromwell \nhad with his soldiery dispersed the Long Parliament. \nThe town was to choose a representative. Colonel \nPalmer and Mr. Thayer, dwelling in different pre- \ncincts, were opposing candidates, and Captain Vinton's \ncompany was largely composed of men from Mr. \nThayer's precinct. The meeting was held on the \n12th of July, and again Mrs. Adams tells what took \nplace : — \n\n\" Colonel Palmer is the man. There was a considerable \nmuster upon Thayer's side, and Vinton's company marched \nup in order to assist, but got sadly disappointed. Newcomb \ninsisted upon it that no man should vote who was in the \narmy. He had no notion of being under the military power ; \n\n\n1775. MILITARY OPERATIONS. 861 \n\nsaid we might be so situated as to have the greater part of \nthe people engaged in the military, and then all power would \nbe wrested out of the hands of the civil magistrate. He \ninsisted upon its being put to vote, and carried his point \nimmediately.\" \n\nDuring the night of the 9th of July, a body of three \nhundred volunteers put out in whale-boats from Ger- \nmantown and crossed over to Long Island, where they \nseized some cattle, sheep and prisoners, and brought \nthem off without being discovered from the vessels \nlying near. Their emulation being fired by this \nachievement, a few days later another party put off \nfrom Moon Island, opposite Squantum, in open day, \nand fired the house and barn which the previous party \nhad spared. Though exposed to a sharp fire from \nthe enemy's ships, the whole force returned in safety, \nand only one of the covering party on the Moon was \nkilled. Then all the companies guarding the south \nside of the bay were ordered to go to Nantasket, and \ncut and bring away the ripened grain. While there, \nand under the eyes of several men-of-war, they crossed \nover in their whale-boats and set fire to the light-house. \nReturning, they were fired upon and pursued, but got \nback without loss. General Gage thereupon sent a \nforce of carpenters, under guard of thirty marines, to \nrepair the building, and caused a new lamp to be set \nup. In consequence of this, on Sunday evening, the \n29th, a body of men went off from Squantum in the \nwhale-boats, surprised and overcame the guard, killing \nthe lieutenant in command and one man, and com- \npletely destroyed the buildings. Returning with their \nprisoners they were hotly pursued, but escaped with \nthe loss of one man killed ; who, two days after, was \nburied from Germantown. These were the only mili- \n\n\n862 THE REVOLUTIONARY EPOCH. 1775. \n\ntary operations undertaken from Quincy Bay during \nthe siege of Boston ; and though, as Mrs. Adams \nwrote, they were in themselves but trifling affairs, yet \nthey served \"' to inure our men and harden them to \ndanger.\" \n\nThe summer was hot and dry. There was meat to \nbe had in abundance, but at one time it seemed prob- \nable the corn crop would prove a failure, and famine \nmight thus be added to war. Tea, coffee and sugar \nbecame very scarce, but \" whortleberries and milk we \nare not obliged to commerce for.\" The camps about \nBoston, swarming with raw, untrained levies, were not \nproperly policed, nor were the food and mode of life \nsuch as the men were accustomed to. As a matter of \ncourse sickness ensued. The state of continual ex- \ncitement and alarm in which the people of the neigh- \nboring towns had long been living naturally predis- \nposed them to disease, and when the camp sickness \ntook the form of dysentery it soon became epidemic \nand spread rapidly. Then followed some weeks of \nterrible trial. It was a time of pestilence. In Brain- \ntree Mr. Wibird was stricken down, and all through \nAugust and September the Sabbath services were not \nobserved. There was almost no house which did not \ncount some dead ; and two, three, and even four fune- \nrals would take place in a day. \n\n\" The small-pox in the natural way was not more mortal \nthan this distemper has proved in this and many neighboring \ntowns. . . . Mrs. Randall has lost her daughter. Mrs. Bracket \nhers. Mr. Thomas Thayer his wife. I know of eight tliis \nweek who have been buried in this town. ... In six weeks \nI count five of my near connections laid in the grave. . . . \nAnd such is the distress of the neighborhood that I can \nscarcely find a well person to assist in looking after the sick. \n\n\n1775. PESTILENCE. 863 \n\nMr. Wibird lies bad, Major Miller is dangerous, and Mr. \nGay is not expected to live. . . . We have fevers of various \nkinds, the throat distemper, as well as the dysentery pre- \nvailing in this and the neighboring towns. . . . Sickness and \ndeath are in almost every family. I have no more shocking \nand terrible idea of any distemper, excei)t the plague, than \nthis. ... So mortal a time the oldest man does not re- \nmember.\" \n\nSo wrote Mrs. Adams to her husband. His brother \nElihu, who had just taken a commission in the army, \nwas among the earliest victims. Returning home at \nthat time, John Adams had started back to Philadel- \nphia on the 26th of August, and between that day \nand the 8th of September there were eighteen persons \nburied in the Middle Precinct alone. The disease was \nsupposed to be contagious, so that watchers and nurses \ncould be obtained only with difficulty ; and the sus- \ntained physical strain upon the well soon made them \nsick. Mrs. Adams' own house was a hospital. A ser- \nvant was first taken down ; she herself was then \nseized ; another servant followed, and then one of her \nchildren ; a third servant fell sick, and had to be \nmoved to Weymouth, where she afterwards died. \nThither Mrs. Adams followed her to be by the bed- \nside of her own mother, and from thence, on October \n1st, she wrote, in an agony of grief, to her husband, — \n\n\" Have pity upon me ! have pity upon me, O thou my \nbeloved, for the hand of God presseth me sore. Yet will I \nbe dumb and silent, and not open my mouth, because Thou, \nO Lord, hast done it. How can I tell you (O my bursting \nheart !) that my dear mother has left me ! After sustaining \nsixteen days' severe conflict, nature fainted,, and she fell \nasleep. At times I was almost ready to faint under this \nsevere and heavy stroke, separated from thee, who used to \n\n\n864 THE REVOLUTIONARY EPOCH. 1775. \n\nbe a comforter to rne in affliction ; but, blessed be God ! his \near is not heavy that He cannot hear, but He has bid us call \nupon Him in time of trouble.\" \n\nTen days after this letter was written Col. Josiah \nQuincy watched, from an upper window of his house, \nthe ship that bore General Gage down the harbor on \nhis way houie to England. The pane of glass is still \npreserved on which he then scratched a record of the \nincident. But six months more were to pass before \nthe evacuation of Boston. During that time the ap- \nprehension of attack along the Braiutree shore was \ncontinual ; but those dwelling there had become ac- \ncustomed to it, and took the alarms more quietly. \nColonel Quincy wrote, — \n\n\" Although we have five companies stationed near us, yet \nthe shells thrown from the floating batteries and the flat- \nbottomed boats which row with twenty oars, carry fifty men \neach, and are defended with cannon and swivels, keep us \nunder perpetual apprehension of being attacked whenever we \nshall become an object of sufficient magnitude to excite the \nattention of our enemies. Our circumstances are truly mel- \nancholy, and grow rather worse than better.\" \n\nTowards the end of October the sickness abated, \nand as the winter came on the situation became in \nevery way more endurable. Money, it was true, had \nalready become scarce. Paj^er currency was at a dis- \ncount of ten per cent., and a silver dollar was a great \nrarity. Prices had begun to rise. Those of foreign \ngoods had doubled. Molasses was an article in com- \nmon housebold use ; its ordinary price had risen from \ntwenty-five cents a gallon to forty. Of the domestic \nproducts, corn was sixty-five cents a bushel, rye eighty, \nhay twenty dollars a ton, and wood three dollars and \n\n\n1776. '^ SCANDALOUS LIES:' 865 \n\na half a cord. Meat was abundant. The condition \nof the people was, therefore, in no way unbearable ; \nand, though Boston was in a state of siege only ten \nmiles away, with the exception that the greater part \nof the able-bodied men were away in camp, life went \non in Braintree much as usual. \n\nThis continued until March, the war and its inci- \ndents being, meanwhile, the great subject of discussion. \nRumors of what was going on in camp and in Congress \nwere abundant. Among others, there came a story, \nwhich was industriously bruited about, that Hancock \nand John Adams had both left Philadelphia, and \nsailed for England from New York, on board an Eng- \nlish man-of-war. In other words, they had proved \ntraitors. In the morbid condition of the public mind, \neven this absurd story gained credence. Angry dis- \nputes took place in Braintree taverns, and \" some men \nwere collared and dragged out of the shop with great \nthreats for reporting such scandalous lies.\" Norton \nQuincy, then one of the selectmen, seems to have been \nespecially excited over the calumny. Though a man of \nindolent temper, he went so far as- to offer his own \nlife as a forfeit for that of the husband of his niece, \nshould the report prove true ; but, a mere war rumor, \nit was soon forgotten. Indeed, the beginning of new \nmilitary operations soon drove all such wild ideas out \nof the people's heads. \n\nOn the 3d of March the sound of heavy cannonad- \ning from the direction of Boston warned the people \nof Braintree that new movements were on foot. The \nmilitia were all mustered, and marched away with \nthree days' rations. Scarcely a man was left in town, \nand the place of those serving as seacoast guards was \nfilled by others from the interior. \n\n\n866 THE REVOLUTIONARY EPOCH. March, \n\n'• I have just returned,\" wrote Mrs. Adams, \" from Perm's \nHill, where I have been sitting to hear the amazing roar of \ncannon, and from whence I could see every shell which was \nthrown. ... I went to bed about twelve, and rose again a \nlittle after one. I could no more sleep than if I had been \nin the engagement ; the rattling of the windows, the jar of \nthe house, the continual roar of twenty-four pounders, and \nthe bursting of shells. About six this morning there was \nquiet. I rejoiced in a few hours' calm. I hear we got pos- \nsession of Dorchester Hill last night.\" \n\nThree days later, she speaks of the militia as all \nreturning, and of her great disappointment that no- \nthing more was effected than the occupation of Dor- \nchester Heights. '' I hoped and expected more impor- \ntant and decisive scenes. I would not have suffered \nall I have for two such hills.\" A fortnight later \nthe evacuation of Boston had been decided upon. \n\" Between seventy and eighty vessels of various sizes \nare gone down and lie in a row in fair sight of this \nplace, all of which appear to be loaded.\" The fear of \nmarauding parties was so great at this time that the \nshores had to be guarded nightly, and the town, while \nauthorizing the selectmen to pay the public moneys in \ntheir hands over to the provincial treasurer, added the \nwords, — \" He removing his office Ten miles at least \nfrom Boston or any other Seaport Town.\" To the \nsame effect, under date of the 18th of March, when an \nadjourned town-meeting was to have been held, the \nfollowing entry appears in the records : — \n\n\" The inhabitants being obliged to guard the shores to pre- \nvent the threatened damages from the ships which lay in the \nharbor with the troops aboard, the meeting was adjourned to \n25th instant, at one o'clock P. M.\" \n\nThree days later, Colonel Quincy reported as fol- \nlows to General Washington : — \n\n\n1776. BOSTON EVACUATED. 867 \n\n\" Since the ships and troops fell down below, we had been \napprehensive of an attack from their boats, in pursuit of \nlive stock ; but yesterday, iu the afternoon we were happily \nrelieved by the appearance of a number of whale-boats, \nstretching across our bay, under the command (as I have \nsince learned) of the brave Lieut.-Col. Tupper, who in the \nforenoon had been cannonading the ships, with one or more \nfield-pieces, from the east head of Thompson's Island, and \nI suppose last night cannonaded them from the same place, \nor from Spectacle Island. This judicious manoeuvre had its \ngenuine effect ; for, this morning, the Admiral and all the \nrest of the ships, except one of the line, came to sail, and \nfell down to Nantasket Road, where a countless number is \nnow collected.\" \n\nAt the same time Mrs. Adams wrote, — \n\n'' From Penn's Hill we have a view of the largest fleet \never seen in America. You may count upwards of a hun- \ndred and seventy sail. They look like a forest. . . . To what \nquarter of the world they are bound is wholly unknown ; \nbut it is generally thought to New York. Many people are \nelated with their quitting Boston. I confess I do not feel \n80. 'T is only lifting a burden from one shoulder to the \nother, which is perhaps less able or less willing to support \nit. . . . Every foot of ground which they obtain now they \nmust fight for, and may they purchase it at a Bunker Hill \nprice.\" \n\nAnd in reply John Adams exclaimed, — \n\n\" We are taking precautions to defend every place that is \nin danger, the Carolinas, Virginia, New York, Canada. I \ncan think of nothing but fortifying Boston Harbor. I want \nmore cannon than are to be had. I want a fortification upon \nPoint Alderton, one upon Lovell's Island, one upon George's \nIsland, several upon Long Island, one upon the Moon, one \nupon Squantum. I want to hear of half a dozen fire-ships, \nand two or three hundred fire-rafts prepared. I want to \n\n\n868 THE REVOLUTIONARY EPOCH. June, \n\nhear of row-galleys, floating batteries built, and booms laid \nacross the channel in the narrows, and Vaisseaux de Frise \nsunk in it. I wish to hear that you are translating Brain- \ntree connnons into the channel.\" \n\nThough the body of the English fleet took its depar- \nture for Halifax during the month of March, a few \nvessels lay at anchor in the outer harbor or cruised \nabout the bay for several weeks longer. They seemed \nreluctant to give up all pretence of maintaining a hold \non Boston. At the end of May, Mrs. Adams wrote : — \n\" We have now in fair sight of my uncle's [Xorton \nQuincy's house, at Mount Wollaston] the ' Commo- \ndore,' a thirty-six gun frigate, another large vessel, and \nsix small craft.\" At last military movements were \nmade under orders from the patriot authorities looking \nto the occupation of the islands, and on Friday, the \n14th of June, Ezekiel Price wrote in his diary: — \"I \nwent to Squantum, and spent the day there, where I \nhad the pleasure of the agreeable sight of the harbor \nof Boston being wholly cleared of those pirates and \nplunderers, which this day completed two years since \nthey had shut up the port and harbor of Boston. The \nContinental troops were assisted by the Colony troops \nand the militia of the neighboring towns ; all of which \nbehaved with their usual bravery, courage and resolu- \ntion.\" ^ In consequence of these movements the last \nremnant of the fleet, \" ' Commodore ' and all,\" put to \nsea upon the day named, and \" not a transport, a ship, \nor a tender [was next day] to be seen.\" Braintree, in \ncommon with her sister-towns on Boston Bay, was \nthereafter allowed to rest in peace. \n\nSo far as Massachusetts was concerned, the War of \nIndependence now entered upon a new stage. Neither \n1 Proc. Mass. Hist. Soc. Nov. 1863, p. 257. \n\n\n1776. REACTION. 869 \n\nany longer was the enemy on tlie hearthstone, nor was \nthe struggle a novelty. The glow of excitement which \nstimulated and made easy the first patriotic movement \nhad passed away. In its place came a consciousness \nof the drag and drain of a seemingly endless war. In \nthis respect the experience of one generation is but a \nrepetition of that of another. The ugly details of the \npast are forgotten, while whatever there was of heroic \nabout it stands out clean-cut and prominent. On the \nother hand, the selfish, venal spirit of the present \nmakes itself painfully apparent, and is supposed always \nto be of recent development, — one of the characteris- \ntics of a race degenerate. A careful examination of \nthe record reveals a different story. The years be- \ntween 1860 and 1865 will lose nothing by contrast \nwith those between 1776 and 1782. In each ease the \nconflict opened on a people wild with patriotic ardor. \nAll were burning to do something ; many could not \ndo too much. Money was poured out like water : regi- \nments formed as if by magic. Self-sacrifice was the \norder of the day, and life in the presence of trial as- \nsumed an unknown charm. For the time being a \nwhole people had become heroic. \n\nThen came the reaction. The realities of war began \nto be felt. Enlistments fell off in 1776, as they did \nin 1862. It grew harder to procure men just in pro- \nportion to the more pressing need of men. Values \nwere unsettled. Prices rose. The poorer and more \nselfish natures began to show the baseness of which \nthey were capable. The voice of the croaker was loud \nin the land. The contractor grew rich ; the patriot \npoor. It seemed as though the war would never end ; \nnot a few were forward to express the wish that it had \nnever begun. The weak, the craven and the mean \nlonged for quiet and the flesh-pots. \n\n\n870 THE REVOLUTIONARY EPOCH. Sep. \n\nEven while the town clerk of Braintree, in obedi- \nence to the mandate of the Provincial Council, was \nentering the Declaration of Independence on the rec- \nords, \" there to remain as a perpetual memorial,\" — \nonly three months after the last British ship had been \ndriven from Boston Harbor, — even thus early Mrs. \nAdams wrote as follows to her husband : — \n\n\" I am sorry to see a spirit so venal prevailing every- \nwhere. When our men were drawn out for Canada, a very \nlarge bounty was given them ; and now another call is made \nupon us. No one will go without a large bounty, though \nonly for two months, and each town seems to think its honor \nengaged in outbidding the others. The province pay is forty \nshillings. In addition to that, this town voted to make it up \nsix pounds. They then drew out the persons most unhkely \nto go, and they are obliged to give three pounds to hire a \nman. Some pay the whole fine, — ten pounds. Forty men \nare now drafted from this town. More than one half, from \nsixteen to fifty, are now in the service. This method of \nconducting will create a general uneasiness in the Continen- \ntal army.\" \n\nShe then goes on to speak of the rage for privateer- \ning which prevailed, and adds that \" vast numbers \" \nwere employed in that way. \n\nBefore entering further into the burden which the \nwar then imposed on Braintree, in common with all \nother Massachusetts towns, it will be well to try to \nform some idea of the strength which was there to \nbear the burden. What was the population of the \ntown during the Revolution ? — and what was its \nwealth? The census of 1765 gives the population \nat 2,433, that of 1776 at 2,871, and that of 1790 \nat 2,771. During the war, therefore, taken as one \nperiod, the population of Braintree ran up to close \n\n\n177G. THE BACK AND THE BURDEN. 871 \n\nupon 3,500 souls, for in the course of seven years \nnearly the quarter part of a full generation grew up, \nthe child of eleven becoming the adult of eighteen. \nOf these 3,500, the males above sixteen years of age \nmust have numbered not less than 875. Experience \nhas always shown that, for the practical purposes of \nwar, men above forty years of age are useless. As \nmembers of a home-guard and during short periods \nof service, they can be made more or less effective ; \nbut the bivouac, long marches and unaccustomed fare \nbreak them down. They are not equal to campaign \nexposure. Consequently not more than two thirds at \nmost of the men above sixteen in any community are \nproperly capable of bearing arms. Those above forty \nyears of age, and the halt, the lame and the blind, \nmust be exempted. During the years 1776 to 1782, \ntherefore, the whole arms-bearing population of Brain- \ntree did not exceed 600 at the outside. It probably \nfell considerably short of that number. \n\nAs respects available wealth, it is far more difficult \nto fix on any safe basis for estimate. This subject \nhas already been considered. It has been stated that \nthe Braintree people during the colonial period had \nsubstance, but very little of what would now be called \nquick capital. In other words, they had nothing \nwhich could readily be turned into money. They \nowned the houses in which they lived, their farms, \nfarm buildings and stock. They had clothes and \nsome furniture. A few had money out at interest ; \nand others were in debt. To this general rule of no \navailable means there were, of course, in an old town \nlike Braintree, a few exceptions. Such were Colonel \nQuincy, Major Miller, General Palmer, and, possibly, \nMr. Thayer. John Adams was not an exception to it. \n\n\n872 THE REVOLUTIONARY EPOCH. 1776. \n\nHe had nothing except his house in Queen Street, \nBoston, and the farm at Penn's Hill. The farm his \nwife tried to manage. Few men were more capable, \nand yet in September, 1777, she wrote to him, — \n\" Unless you return, what little property you possess \nwill be lost. ... As to what is here under my imme- \ndiate inspection, I do the best I can with it. But it \nwill not, at the high price labor is, pay its way.\" \nThis was the common experience. The Penn's Hill \nfarm also affords a basis on which to make an ap- \nproximate estimate of the wealth of the town. One \npart of that farm consisted of thirty-five acres of \narable land, with a house, barn and other build- \nings. With this part went eighteen acres of pasture. \nBought in 1774 the cost of the property was <£440, or \nil,450. In 1765 there w^ere 327 houses in Braintree, \noccupied by 357 families, and ten years later, at the \ntime of the war, the number of houses may have in- \ncreased to 400. That bought by John Adams was \none of the better sort. Judging by the sum paid for \nit, an estimate of $1,000 to a house and a family \nwould seem to be liberal, and is probably excessive ; \nfor in the town there were some paupers and many \npoor people, who, living from hand to mouth only, \nnever accumulated anything. The owners of farms \nwere accounted the rich men. The sum of $400,000 \nwould thus represent the aggregate accumulated wealth \nof Braintree in 1776. \n\nSuch being the strength, -^ 600 men ca])able of \nbearing arms, with an accumulation of $400,000 be- \nhind them, — it remains to consider the burden. This \nis no less difficult correctly to estimate than the other. \nThe rolls show, for instance, that Braintree furnished \n1,600 men for military duty in the course of the war, \n\n\n1776. • ENLISTMENTS. 873 \n\nbesides a large number (of which there is no record) \nwho served on the water. And, again, in one single \nyear (1781) it assessed itself -f 600,000 to buy beef \nfor the army and pay the town expenses. But the \n$600,000 were paicl in paper currency, and the term \nof service of the men was apt not to exceed three \ndays. Such figures only serve to falsify. During the \nRevolution Braintree did not contribute either 1,600 \nmen or a million doUars, for the simple reason that \nher inhabitants did not number the one or have the \nother. The drain was doubtless heavy enough, but it \nwas at least limited by the total resources. \n\nIn considering, then, the Braintree enlistments, \nthose for short periods must be left out of the ac- \ncount. A service of one or two days in guarding the \nshore may have been a summer picnic, with an agree- \nable spice of danger, but in no sense was it war. The \nmen engaged in that service were not soldiers. They \nwere mere members of a posse comltatus. The \nshorter enlistments also should hardly be taken into \naccount. Indeed, experience has shown that in actual \nwar there is no more cruel way of wasting blood and \ntreasure than sending to the field men enlisted for a \nfew weeks or months. Almost never are they of any \nreal service. \n\nA Mr. Partridge, of Duxbury, one of a committee \nwho waited on Washington in October, 1776, asked \nhim whether enlistments for one year would not suf- \nfice. He exclaimed in reply, — \" Good God ! gentle- \nmen, our cause is ruined if you engage men for only \na year. You must not think of it. If we hope for \nsuccess we must have men enlisted for the whole \nterm of the war.\" This course was too Spartan ; the \nweaker, the more wasteful and more murderous one \n\n\n874 THE REVOLUTIONARY EPOCH.' 1776. \n\nof short enlistments was pursued. Accordingly, men \nwere enlisted in Braintree for the Canada expedition \nin 1776, for the Rhode Island expeditions in 1777 and \n1778, and for the Penobscot expedition of 1779 ; oth- \ners went down to garrison the castle in the harbor, \nor were stationed at Hull. Furnishing and equipping \nthese men went far toward exhausting the town ; but \nit was playing at war. The long term Continentals \nwere the men who did the work. They were at Long \nIsland, and they were at Stony Point ; they forced \nBurgoyne's intrenchments, and captured Rahl's Hes- \nsians ; they bore the heat of Monmouth, and stormed \nthe redoubt at Yorktown. This was war. The ques- \ntion is always, — How many of these men did the \ntown put into the field ? Picnics and summer prom- \nenades do not count. \n\nSo also as regards taxes and supplies. That the \nstress on the towns during the Revolution was great \nis indisputable. They were called on for money and \nthey were called on for men, for clothes and for meat. \nBut the figures are apt to be expressed in Continental \ncurrency. There was no financial, as there was no \nmilitary, folly which the New England people did \nnot commit during the Revolution. Throughout they \nshowed that the town-meeting is ill adapted to war. \nThey tried to make patriotism a substitute for the \nprovost-guard. They issued false money. They regu- \nlated prices. They mobbed those who preferred not \nto exchange good merchandise for worthless paper. \nIt was not in them to do what Frederick 11. did in \nPrussia, — take the men they needed and the supplies \nthey needed, and finish up the work in hand. That \nwould have been war ; and to war with this grim \nvisage the government of the people by the people is \n\n\n1776. TOWN-MEETING WAR. 876 \n\ndistinctly averse. Even in 1757, when it was a ques- \ntion of protecting the hearthstones of New England \nagainst tomahawk and the Frenchman, — even then, \nwhen there came down from Fort William Henry \n\" almost every day despatches from the General to the \nNew England colonies, urging for troops and assist- \nance,\" — even at that supreme moment the Braintree \ntown-meeting instructed its representative \" to use his \nbest endeavours to prevail with the General Court to \nProject and pursue some better and less oppressive \nMethod of raising soldiers . . . than that of Fine \nand Impress.\" As it was in 1757, so was it in 1777 \nand again in 1862. What New England did was to \ncampaign interminably, under town-meeting inspira- \ntion, with infinite and unnecessary loss of life and \nwaste of money. \n\nAs respects Brain tree's contributions to this waste of \nmoney during the War of Independence, the records \nare suggestive, but exasperatingly vague. Though full \nof votes alluding to reports and statements at the time \nmade, but since lost, they contain almost no exact \nfigures, and, even when supplemented by the state \narchives, they fail to piece out the story. One thing \nstands out in them hard and apparent : the early, \neager zeal soon vanished. Not only during the years \nwhich followed could few recruits be obtained from \namong the townsmen, but the town would not submit \nto a draft ; and in September, 1777, and again in \nJune, 1780, and July, 1781, the Braintree town-meet- \ning formally voted to indemnify the militia officers \nfor any fine they might incur by omitting to draft \nmen when required so to do by the General Court. \nCommittee after committee was then appointed to fill \nup the quota by going out to hunt up men in other \n\n\n876 THE REVOLUTIONARY EPOCH. 1781. \n\ntowns. The inhabitants were finally divided into \nclasses, and each class was called upon somewhere to \nsecure its recruits. The poorest and worst material \nin the community was thus collected together and \nswept into the ranks of Washington's army. In 1781, \nfor instance, Captain Joseph Baxter, one of the town \nrecruiting committee, had a long wrangle with the \nselectmen of Boston over a wretched bounty-jumper \nnamed Williams. Both parties claimed him as one \nof their quota. The Boston agents had given him \nfifteen guineas, and Captain Baxter \"was drove to \nevery extremity to prove the justness of his claim \nto said Williams, but finally obtained him ; \" though \na year later Braintree had to pay over to Boston the \nsum of £21 \"to refund to them the money paid by \nthem \" to this particular exemplar of Revolutionary \npatriotism : and a large portion of the heroes of '76 \nwere men of this stamp, whose names, and after them \nthose of their widows, were inscribed for nearly a cen- \ntury on the indiscriminate pension-rolls of an over- \ngrateful people. But recurring to the matter of en- \nlistments, the records of the year 1780 indicate the \nmost severe stress. The}^ read as follows, the meeting \nbeing held in the Middle Precinct meeting-house on \nthe 27th of June. The motion was \n\n\" To make an offer to such persons as will engage to go \ninto the Service. \n\n\"• After a considerable debate upon the matter, it was \n\n'' Voted., To give each man One Thousand Dollars as a \nBounty, also Half a Bushel of Corn for Every Day from the \nTime they march to the time they are discharged or leave \nthe army ; and also half a bushel of Corn for every Twenty \nmiles they shall be from home when discharged ; and also \n\n\" Voted., That the town will pay them the Forty shillings \n\n\n1780. THE STRESS OF WAR. 877 \n\nper month promised by the State, in hard money, if the \nsoldiers enable the Town to Receive the said 40/ from the \nState. Unless it will best sute the soldiers to Receive it from \nthe State themselves. \n\n\" Voted, The Selectmen should give Secmdty to the per- \nsons that shall engage pursuant to the foregoing vote ; and \nalso the Selectmen Procure the Corn at Harvest, and Store \nit for the men until they return. \n\n'' General Palmer generously gave into the hands of the \nmoderator One Thousand and Eighty Dollars, to be equally \ndivided among the thirty-six men that shall first engage in \nthe six months' service as a Reinforcement to the Continental \nArmy. For which the thanks of the Town were voted him. \n\n\" The Familys of such men as shall engage for the Term \nof six months shall be supply'd by the Selectmen with Corn, \n\"Wood, or such other articals as they stand in need off, which \nis to be charge and Reducted from the wages of that person, \nwhich is to be paid him in Corn upon his Returning home.\" \n\nAt an adjourned meeting held the next day it was \nfurther voted to exeippt from tax all notes issued by \nthe town for money loaned it to procure men. Two \ndays later the town again met, and then \n\n\" The Committee Reported that they had Inlisted thirty- \none men, and that there was a prospect of Inlisting the other \nfive men which is wanting to complete the first 36 men \ncalled for, and likewise a part or all the nine men Required. \n\n\" General Palmer generously made the same offer to the \nnine men as he did to the 36 men, — that was thirty dollars \neach ; for which the Thanks of the Town was again Voted \nhim.\" \n\nAt an adjourned meeting, held on the 5th of July, \nit was, \n\n\" after a Long Debate, Voted that the officers' pay, includ- \ning the State's pay, be made equal to a Private.\" \n\n\n878 THE REVOLUTIONARY EPOCH. 1775-82. \n\nAt another adjourned meeting on the 10th, \n\n\" the Votes that was past on that day (5th) Concerning the \nofficers' pay being all disannul'd and void, Voted, To give \neach officer that shall go from this Town for the three \nmonths' service Five Hundred Dollars, being the same sum \nas was Voted the soldiers as a Bounty ; also voted the offi- \ncers the same pay from the Town, Exclusive of their other \npay, as the soldiers Receive. Cap. Newcomb appeared to go \nupon the encouragement.\" \n\nThe calls for men were incessant until 1782. A \nnew crop of fighting material had then matured, for \nthe boy not yet twelve when the skirmish at Concord \nbridge took place was eighteen at the surrender of \nYorktown. Between 1775 and 1782, as nearly as can \nnow be estimated, Braintree sent into the field about \n550 men, enlisted for periods of six months or over. \nThe number of men, as \\vell as the length of enlist- \nment, varied with the different years. In 1775, for \ninstance, besides militia to guard the coast, the town \nsent not less than 150 men, enlisted to the close of \nthe year, into Washington's army about Boston. In \n1776 about 120 men were furnished. In 1777 some \nseventy were enlisted for three years. In no year \nwere less than forty sent, except in 1781, w^hen the \nenlistment appears to have been for four months \nonly. Under this system the same men in the course \nof a seven years' war may have enlisted several times. \nIt is impossible, therefore, to even estimate the por- \ntion of Braintree's 600 arms-bearing men who actually \nserved in the Continental army, though it is probably \nsafe to say that the number did not fall below 300. \nFor shorter terms and in the militia every man in \ntown capable of bearing them bore arms. The aver- \nage force of Continentals which the town kept in the \n\n\n1775-82. MEN AND MONEY. 879 \n\nfield would seem to have been about seventy men. \nThere is no record of the number of those who were \nwounded, or who died in battle or in camp ; nor \ndo the figures which have been given include those \nwho served on the sea. Indeed, it is only through \nincidental mention in the letters of Mrs. Adams that \nwe even know that privateering was all the rage \namong the young men of Braintree. Yet not only \ndid she so describe it in 1776, but five years later, \nin December, 1781, she sent to her husband at the \nHagrue the names of no less than twelve Braintree \nboys captured in the British Channel on the privateer \nEssex, from Salem, and then confined in Plymouth jail. \n\"Ned Savil,\" \" Job Field \" and '^ Josiah Bass \" were \nunmistakable North Precinct names, and doubtless \nseveral score of others saw service in this same way. \nNor was it a service lightly to be spoken of. The \nsupplies and munitions of war picked up by the Yankee \nprivateers went far toward keeping Washington's army \nin the field. \n\nSo far, therefore, as men were concerned, it seems \nprobable that the Revolutionary land and sea service \ncombined kept at least a fourth part of the effective \narms-bearing force of Braintree continually employed \nfrom 1775 to 1782. They were drawn away from all \npeaceful occupations, and, in place of being producers, \nthey became consumers ; and what the consumption of \nthe war amounted to now remains to be considered. \nDuring the three years prior to Lexington and Con- \ncord— that is, between 1772 and 1774 — Braintree \nraised annually by taxation the sum of £150 provincial \nmoney, or $500, to meet current town expenses ; the \nprecinct or church levy being a distinct charge. In \n1776 the sum of .£1,176 was raised under three separate \n\n\n880 THE REVOLUTIONARY EPOCH. 1776-80. \n\nvotes. This, too, was in hard money, for even as late \nas December of that year silver was but ten per cent, \npremium. The next year the amount raised was \n£1,500. Indian corn was still only five shillings a \nbushel, its ordinary price being four shillings ; but rye \nhad doubled, selling for twelve shillings, while rum had \ngone up from three to eight shillings, and molasses \nwas not to be had. In May, 1778, the sum of X4,000 \nwas ordered to be assessed immediately, for in April \na requisition in kind of shirts, shoes and stockings had \nbeen made on the town. A similar requisition for \nblankets had been made in January, 1777. In June, \n1779, another requisition of shirts, shoes and stockings \nwas made, the town to furnish \"a number of these \narticles equal to one-seventh Part of the Male Inhab- \nitants above the Age of sixteen years ; \" from which \npossibly it might be inferred that Braintree then had \nnearly one hundred men in service. In January the \nselectmen had been ordered to procure one thousand \nbushels of grain for the town, and in November a levy \nof £6,000 was voted \" toward defraying the charges \nof the same.\" The currency was now fast losing its \nvalue, — how fast may be inferred from the fact that \nin place of the former allowance of twopence a head \nfor killing old blackbirds, in May, 1780, the sum of \nthirty shillings was voted, while the three shillings a \nday for labor on the highways became seven pounds \nten shillings. Indeed, there were no longer any quota- \nble prices. Calico was from thirty to forty dollars per \nyard, molasses twenty dollars a gallon, sugar four dol- \nlars a pound. In May, 1780, the selectmen were \nordered to secure corn, so as to be prepared to give \nthose who enlisted half a bushel of it a day instead of \nmoney. In July a requisition came for shirts, shoes, \n\n\n1775-96. FINANCIAL CROOKEDNESS. 881 \n\nstockings and blankets, and another for horses ; in \nSeptember a third for 23,400 pounds of beef, and in \nDecember yet a fourth for 44,933 additional pounds of \nbeef. In August it was voted to raise £120,000, and in \nOctober £60,000 more. At the same time the select- \nmen were directed to \" wait on Colonel Quincy and \nknow of him whether he will lend the Town a sum of \nhard money.\" It nowhere appears whether he did so ; \nbut he would, even if he had the \" hard money \" in \nhand, have been quite justified in declining further \nmoney transactions with the town, as his last experience \nin that way had afforded convincing proof that the \nsame spirit Mrs. Adams noticed in August, 1776, not \nonly prevailed, as she asserted, \" everywhere,\" but it \npervaded the financial no less than the military sys- \ntems. The New England town organization was in \n1776 no more exempt from jobbery than the Conti- \nnental government then, or the government of the \nUnited States ninety years later. For years ugly \nstories circulated in the town in regard to a \" hard \nmoney \" loan made to it by Colonel Quincy during \nthe fervid period of 1775, until at last, though not \nbefore 1796, the facts of the transaction were made \npublic. It then appeared that the whole sum bor- \nrowed was .£150, of which £101 only had reached the \ntreasury of the town, the remaining £49 having been \nretained for their own use by three of the selectmen \nof 1775, respectively bearing the titles of Colonel, \nDeacon and Major, all of whose names were given, \nthough two of them were then dead ; and the brief \nreport closed with the statement that this sum of £49 \n\" has not as yet been accounted for.\" \n\nThe debts due from the town to those who \" ad- \nvanced money for the purpose of hiring men in the \n\n\n882 THE REVOLUTIONARY EPOCH. 1775-91. \n\nyears 1775, etc.,\" were not paid until after 1791; and \nin the mean time those who had thus loaned to the com- \nmunity in the time of its need became objects of re- \nproach and popular odium, and they are referred to in \nthe Braintree records as \"' certain Persons who call \nthemselves sufferers by shifting their securities for \nmoney Lent to the Town : \" these \" certain persons,\" \nit appears, not unreasonably declined to allow the \ntown to discharge its debts in a currency for which \nthe town-meeting had formally authorized its collec- \ntors to receive *' one Dollar of the New Emission in \nLieu of Forty Dollars of the old Emission or one \nDollar in Silver in the Lien of one Hundred and \ntwenty.'* \n\nThe position in which the collectors of taxes found \nthemselves placed was, also, scarcely less difficult than \nthat of the holders of public obligations. It has al- \nready been stated that in those days and under the \nlaws then in force, after the warrant for the tax levy \nwas delivered to the constable he became personally \nliable for the amount specified in it. It was a debt \nfrom him to the town ; and, if he failed to collect any \npart of it, for that part he became responsible, and \nmust make it good or go on record as a defaulter. \nLooking over the mysterious entries in the Braintree \ntown records now, — and those entries will be found \nduplicated in the records of all the Massachusetts \ntowns, — it is difficult to see how during the Revolu- \ntionary period any constable could have performed \nhis duties, or any town treasurer kept his accounts. \nThe confusion was inextricable. It seems at last to \nhave settled itself on some basis reached by compro. \nmise, and deemed \" about right.\" \n\nBut in 1780 the Massachusetts towns had received \n\n\n1780-2. ''FIAT money:' 883 \n\ntheir lesson on the subject of \" fiat \" money, though \nthey had not yet paid in full for it. The country was \nflooded with counterfeit bills, the regular issues were \ndiscredited, and but half of the £200,000 assessment of \n1780 was ever collected. In 1781 the sum of Xl,400 \nin specie was raised, and the town as usual was called \non for beef and clothing in kind. In 1782 only X700 \nwere raised, but the requisitions for men and supplies \nstill came in. In March, 1783, the old record-book, \nwhich had served for fifty-two years, was full, and \nwhen the town clerk bought a new one he noted on its \nfirst page that its price was \" Five Silver Dollars ; \" \nand \" a Days Work on Highways,\" instead of being \n\" sott \" at £1 10s. per day, was fixed at three shillings. \nThe paper- money delusion w^as then over, and effectu- \nally disposed of for two generations. Indeed, for long \nyears it was supposed to be finally killed in English- \nspeaking America, as to say that a thing \" was not \nworth a continental\" passed into the speech of the \npeople as the proverb expressing complete absence of \nvalue ; but later years have proved again that nations \nlearn slowly, and that few sleights of hand have more \nlasting fascination for the average man than what has \nbeen happily termed \" the currency juggle.\" \n\nIn view of the requisitions in kind, and the utter \nconfusion of the currency, it is impossible to say what \nwas the real money cost of the War of Independence. \nBraintree went into it in excellent financial condi- \ntion, — a condition, indeed, which theoretically was \nalmost ideal, for, as the result of the sale of its \ncommon lands, it had interest-bearing securities in its \ntreasury from which it derived an income sufficient \nto defray three fourths of its whole annual expenses. \nThe inhabitants of the town were, therefore, as nearly \n\n\n884 THE HEVOLUTIONARY EPOCH. 1770-83. \n\nexempt from taxation as people dwelling in a civilized \ncommunity can hope to be, for the total annual muni- \ncipal levy exacted from 2,500 souls was but $270, or \nless than eleven cents each ; nor was there any system \nof indirect taxation. Of course such a state of affairs \ncould continue only so long as the lessons of thrift \nand economy which generations of hard, close living \nhad ground into the lives of the people, lasted and \nwere binding as unwritten laws upon them. The time \ninevitably must have come when the absence of any \nsense of public burden would have led to extravagance \nand corruption ; but in 1770 that time was far distant. \nThe town then was a capitalist, — a very considerable \nmoney-lender for that day, — holding in its treasury \nthe bonds of many of its more prominent inhabitants, \nbearing interest and secured by the mortgage of real \nestate. In the course of the Revolutionary troubles all \nthis accumulation disappeared, and, when peace came \nat last, Brain tree was heavily in debt. The annual \ntax levy, which before the war was only .£150, after \nit became X1,000. The cases of individual hardship \nmust have been many ; but, fortunately, there were in \nthose days few who lived on fixed incomes. Indeed, \nthe minister was almost the only such person who \ncould be suggested. All others were dependent for \nsupport on their hands, or the produce of their fields. \nTaxes and the increased price of labor more than used \nup the whole profits of industry, and, during the entire \nRevolutionary period, the people were eating into their \naccumulated substance. Braintree, it has been seen, \nkept an average of at least seventy men in the Conti- \nnental army, besides the indeterminate number em- \nployed in the Massachusetts service on its uniformly \nunfortunate independent expeditions to Maine, Rhode \n\n\n1775-82. A GREAT STRESS. 885 \n\nIsland or the like. While it is impossible even to \napproximate the cost, expressed in hard money, of the \nmen employed in the enterprises last referred to, it \nwould certainly not seem out of the way to average \nthe daily charge of those serving in the Continental \narmy at three shillings, or fifty cents, per day, which \nwould include food, clothing and munitions, as well as \npay ; any possible margin of excess in this allowance \nserving as an offset for expense incurred on all ac- \ncounts not included in the Continental service. Es- \ntimated on this far from extravagant basis, the War \nof Independence could not have cost the inhabitants \nof Braintree less than ilOO,000 in money. It has \nbeen seen that this sum was probably equivalent to a \nquarter part of the entire accumulation since the set- \ntlement of the town. That one fourth part of the \nwhole substance of the community should have been \nthus consumed in distant military operations seems \nincredible ; and the statement of the fact should cause \nin subsequent generations a realizing sense of the \nobstinate spirit of independence which nerved the \npatriot side. In 1786 the population was not yet so \nlarge as it had been ten years before, in 1776, and a \nlong period of terrible depression followed the return \nof peace. The stress had indeed been great, and the \nloss of men and means oppressive ; but none the less \nBraintree had been fortunate, — the war had never \nonce crossed the boundary of the town. \n\nThe military contribution of Braintree to the War \nof Independence was limited to men and supplies. \nShe furnished no officer who rose to high command, \nor evinced marked soldierly qualities. Deacon Joseph \nPalmer was commissioned brigadier - general ; but, \nthough a man of active nature and full of enterprise \n\n\n886 THE REVOLUTIONARY EPOCH. \\111. \n\nof a certain sort, Palmer was then sixty years of age. \nHis campaigning days were past. Full of zeal, he \nwas at Bunker Hill, and subsequently very active dur- \ning the siege of Boston ; but his largest experience \nwas as commander of the Massachusetts contingent in \nthe unfortunate *' secret expedition \" of September, \n1777, planned to drive the British from Rhode Island. \nIt is claimed that the wretched failure of the expedi- \ntion was not to be laid at General Palmer's door ; but \nMrs. Adams could not refrain from saying in a letter \nto her husband, — \"I know you will be mortified, but \nif you want your arms crowned with victory, you \nshould not appoint what General Gates calls dreaming \ndeacons to conduct them.\" \n\nDuring the later years of the struggle John Adams \nwas absent from the country. In November, 1777, \nhe came home from Philadelphia, and then, while \nstill at Braintree, was selected to represent the Con- \ngress in Europe. All arrangements having been made, \nthe frigate Boston reported in Boston Harbor to carry \nhim abroad, and in February it lay at anchor in Nan- \ntasket Roads. On the morning of the 13th, Mr. \nAdams left his house at Penn's Hill, and accompanied \nby his son John Quincy, a boy of ten, drove down to \nNorton Quincy's, at Mount Wollaston, on the Ger- \nmantown road. His wife did not accompany him ; \nmost probably she did not feel equal to it. Hardly \nhad he got to Norton Quincy's when a boat from the \nfrigate pulled up to the beach. In it was Captain \nTucker, of the Boston. Coming up to the house he \njoined Mr. Adams, who, after writing a few hurried \nlines to his wife, walked down to the shore, and, bid- \nding good-by to Norton Quincy, the party was rowed \nacross the bay to the frigate. As the father and the \n\n\n1779. TO FRANCE AND BACK. 887 \n\nyoung lad drew away from the familiar land, they \ncould not but have cast homesick glances back to it ; \nfor it was midwinter, and the British were masters of \nthe sea. But \" Johnny,\" his father wrote, behaved \n\" like a man.\" ^ \n\nMr. Adams returned after an absence of eighteen \nmonths, reaching Braintree on the 2d of August, 1779. \nHe came home on the French frigate La Sensible, and, \nstrange to say, he and his young son were landed on \nthe very beach of the Mount Wollaston farm, close to \nNorton Quincy'o house, from which they had embarked \nin Commodore Tucker's barge a year and a half be- \nfore.^ To those dwelling in the monotony of the quiet \nMassachusetts town it was as if the returned, ocean- \ntossed wanderers had suddenly dropped from the skies. \nA week later a town-meeting was held for the purpose, \namong other things, of choosing delegates to the con- \nvention which was to meet at Cambridge, on the 1st \nof September, for the purpose of framing a state con- \nstitution. It was voted to send only one delegate, and \n••' the Honble. John Adams, Esq., was chosen for that \npurpose.\" The convention met, and while in attend- \nance upon it, with the draft of the instrument the \npreparation of which had been committed to him ^ \nstill incomplete, Mr. Adams was again sent abroad, \nand left Braintree on the 13th of November, shortly \nbefore the setting in of what his wife afterwards wTote \nto him was \" the sublimest winter I ever saw. In the \nlatter part of December and beginning of January \nthere fell the highest snow known since the year 1740 ; \n\n1 Familiar Letters of John Adams and his Wife, 326; J. Q. Adams, \nMemoirs, xii. 277. \n\n2 J. Q. Adams, Memoirs, ix. 12. \n\n3 Proc. Mass. Hist. Soc. Nov. 1860, pp. 88-92. \n\n\nTHE REVOLUTIONARY EPOCH. 1780-8. \n\nand from that time to [the close of February] the \nBay has been frozen so hard that people have walked, \nrode and sledded over it to Boston. It was frozen \nacross Nantasket Road so that no vessel could come \nin or go out for a month after the storms.\" Bat, like \nmost steadily severe winters, unbroken by rain or thaw, \nthat of 1780 was healthy, the people of Braintree suf- \nfering only for need of fuel ; in that respect sharing \nto a small extent in the hardships of Washington's \narmy in its New Jersey cantonments, where, in the cold- \nest winter of the century, the snow lay two feet deep \nabout soldiers insufficiently supplied with either food \nor clothes, and the term of enlistment of a large part \nof whom expired with the year. \n\nIt was not until the summer of 1788, when the war \nhad been closed for more than five years, that Mr. \nAdams returned to Braintree, and in July, 1784, his \nwife had joined him in London. Fifty-six years later \nJosiah Quincy, then a man verging upon seventy, de- \nscribed how he, a boy of twelve, went with his mother \nin June to bid Mrs. Adams farewell before she left the \nhouse at the foot of Penn's Hill, not again to return \nto it, for her voyage across the Atlantic. \" I remem- \nber her a matronly beauty, in which respect she yielded \nto few of her sex, full of joy and elevated with hope. \nPeace had just been declared. Independence obtained, \nand she was preparing to go from that humble man- \nsion to join the husband she loved at the Court of St. \nJames.\" ^ \n\n1 Whitney, Commemorative Discourse^ 1840, p. 53. \n\n\nCHAPTER XVII. \n\nEXHAUSTION. \n\nIt was in November, 1779, four years and a half \nbefore his wife left Braintree to join him in London, \nthat John Adams left with James Bowdoin and Samuel \nAdams, his associates on the committee of the Cam- \nbridge convention, his unfinished draft of the Massa- \nchusetts Constitution of 1780. On the 22d of the fol- \nlowing May \" the freeholders and other inhabitants of \nBraintree qualified to vote in the choice of a Repre- \nsentative \" — so the record ran — met in the Middle \nPrecinct meeting-house and made choice of Rich- \nard Cranch to the General Court ; at the same time \n\" the male Inhabitants of said Town of the age of \nTwenty-one Years and upwards \" were assembled to \nconsider of the form of government agreed on by the \nconvention. \" The Form being Read, The Town \nthought proper to choose a Committee to take the \nsame under consideration and Report upon the ad- \njournment.\" A committee of fifteen was accordingly \nselected, with General Palmer at its head. This was \nby no means the first time in recent years that the in- \nhabitants of Braintree had met to consider questions \nof fundamental law ; and, indeed, nothing could be \nmore characteristic than the formal and deliberate \nmanner in which they uniformly approached the sub- \nject. They seemed fully impressed with its impor- \ntance. In February, 1778, the Articles of Confedera- \n\n\n890 EXHA USTION. 1778. \n\ntion and Perpetual Union then drawn up by the Con- \ntinental Congress had been submitted. The Braintree \nrecord states that in the town-meeting these articles \nwere \" distinctly and Repeatedly read and maturely \nconsidered.\" They were approved except in one point. \nThe action of the town upon this was significant, as \nshowing how jealous the ordinary New Englander was \nof his local independence, and what a vast educational \nwork then remained to be done before a stable Federal \nconstitution had any chance of adoption. It was pro- \nvided in the Articles of Confederation of 1778 that \nCongress should \"have the sole and exclusive right \nand power of determining on peace or war.\" For this \nnecessary provision the town of Braintree formally \nsubmitted the following absurd substitute : — \" The \nUnited States in Congress Assembled shall first obtain \nthe approbation of the Legislative Body of each of the \nUnited States, or the major part of them, before they \nshall determine on peace or war.\" \n\nAt this same time the General Court having seen \nfit, as Bancroft expresses it, to form themselves into a \nconstituent convention, submitted a draft of a state \nconstitution for approval by the people. It was con- \nsidered in a Braintree town-meeting held on the 13th \nof April. Having been read, it was referred to a \ncommittee of fifteen to take the same \" under Consid- \neration and Report upon the adjournment.\" Capt. \nPeter B. Adams, a younger brother of John, was \nchairman of this committee. A month later it re- \nported that those composing it \" did not approve \" of \nthe proposed government, and \" it being put to the \nmembers present, thirteen was in favor of the form, \nseventy-four against it.\" \n\nIt has been asserted that the history of the world \n\n\n1780. CONSTITUTION-MAKING. 891 \n\ncontains no record of a people which, in the institution \nof its government, moved with the caution which \nduring 1779 and 1780 marked the proceedings of \nMassachusetts,^ and the truth of this statement was \ncertainly exemplified in the case of Braintree. The \ncommittee of fifteen, of which General Palmer was \nchairman, included among its titled members one gen- \neral, two colonels, two majors, one captain, one lieu- \ntenant, two deacons and a judge, and for two weeks it \nhad the draft of the proposed constitution under care- \nful advisement. It was understood to have been \nframed in large part by their own fellow townsman ; \nbut when, on the 5th of June, the committee reported \nthe instrument back to the town-meeting, it recom- \nmended \" sum alterations and amendments, which \nbeing read to the Town was Voted and axcepted.\" \nGeneral Palmer was then chosen a delegate, in place \nof John Adams, to attend the convention which was \nto perfect the draft. The first election under the Con- \nstitution was held on the 4th of the following Septem- \nber, and in Braintree 106 votes were cast for gov- \nernor, of which John Hancock received 95, and James \nBowdoin 11. \n\nIn 1780 the war, so far as Braintree was concerned, \nentered on the dreary, dragging stage which preceded \nits close two years later. It was in May of this year \nthat Charleston was captured by the British forces, \nand in August Gates was defeated at Camden by \nCornwallis ; while the next month occurred the trea- \nson of Arnold and the execution of Andre. In May \nthe Braintree town-meeting fixed the price of a day's \nwork on the highways \" at seven pounds, Ten shillings \nand all other Labour in the usual proportion,\" and \n1 Bancroft (ed. 1876), vi. 309. \n\n\n892 EXHA us TION. 1 780-1. \n\nMrs. Adams wrote to her husband, — \" Our poor old \ncurrency is breathing its last gasp.\" This was the year \nalready referred to as that of the most severe stress, \nwhen forty-five men were called for from Braintree, \nor what practically amounted to one man out of each \neight who were still left capable of bearing arms. \nThe difficulty found in raising that large quota of re- \ncruits has been described, as well as how the town \npractically nullified the action of the General Court \nby voting \" to Indemnify the militia Officers from \nany Fines that may be lay'd on them for Ommitting \nor neglecting to Draught the men when Required.\" \nMrs. Adams was quite justified in writing, — \"The \nefforts are great, and we give, this campaign, more \nthan half our property to defend the other. He who \ntarries from the field cannot possibly earn sufficient \nat home to reward him who takes it.\" In September, \nat the very time of Arnold's treason, a \" Silver money \nTax \" was imposed, and in October Mrs. Adams \nwrote telling how flour was a dollar and a half a \npound, and mutton nine dollars, — \" Money scarce ; \nplenty of goods ; enormous taxes.\" As if to make \nmatters worse, the General Court had passed a legal \ntender act intended to bolster up the rapidly vanish- \ning value of the paper money, and during the first \nmonth of the following year, 1781, Mrs. Adams again \nwrote to Mr. Adams, — \"A repeal of the obnoxious \ntender act has passed the House and Senate. The \nGovernor, as has been heretofore predicted, when any- \nthing not quite popular is in agitation, has the gout, \nand is confined to bed. A false weight and a false \nbalance are an abomination, and in that light this \ntender act must be viewed by every impartial person. \nWho but an idiot would believe that forty were equal \n\n\n1783. ''THE LORD'S DAY:' 893 \n\nto seventy-five ? But the repeal gives us reason to \nhope that . . . the heavy taxes which now distress all \norders will be lessened. . . . Yet our state taxes are \nbut as a grain of mustard seed, when compared with \nour town taxes.\" \n\nSo affairs continued, until, on the 28th of January, \n1783, exactly two years from the day on which Mrs. \nAdams wrote the words just quoted, her husband put \nhis name at Versailles to the preliminary articles of \npeace. The long, seemingly endless war was at last \nover, and now the people of Braintree, in common \nwith the rest of the State, began to feel the full effects \nof the reaction which followed. The financial col- \nlapse was complete ; business and enterprise seemed \ndead, and labor in little demand. The discontent \nwas general, and an inferior set of j^olitical leaders \ncropped out. It was the time before Shays' insurrec- \ntion. Yet, so far as the record shows, the town of \nBraintree had now fallen back into the accustomed \nways ; the regular town-meeting was held, and the \nusual action taken at it, the great question of the day, \nof course, relating to finances, for they were in dire \nconfusion. The valuation for work done on the high- \nways had fallen from the nominal paper price of 140 \na day in 1781 to fifty cents in 1782, and in the collec- \ntion of taxes a dollar in silver was ordered to be ac- \ncepted in lieu of f 120 in Continental currency. The \nschools had been reopened ; and, though the Com- \nmittee of Safety was still in existence, its work had \nceased. But there was one subject, besides the town \ndebts and the badness of the times, which now wor- \nried Braintree. The General Court had passed an \nact determining the legal limits of the Sabbatli. Ac- \ncordingly the warrant for the March meeting of 1783 \n\n\n894 EXHAUSTION. 1783- \n\ncoDtained an article \" that the town may advise \nthereon and act as they shall think most agreeable to \nthe Sacred Law of God.\" When the meeting had \nassembled, Deacon Holbrook, of the Middle Precinct, \nwas chosen moderator, and a vote was passed '' that it \nshould be deemed a disorder for any person to go \nupon the seats in the meeting-house with their feet.\" \nFinally the article relating to the Lord's Day was re- \nferred to a committee of seven, of which Joshua Hay- \nward was chairman. The report of this committee \nwas presented at an adjourned meeting, and, after \ntwo readings, was accepted and approved. No extract \ncan do justice to it. As the criticism of an individual \ntown-meeting upon a solemn legislative act, it is \nunique and characteristic. After stating that under \nthe terms of the act in question the Sabbath was cur- \ntailed six hours on the ground that there were \" de- \nferant opinions among the sober and Consciencious \nPersons of the same,\" the report proceeded as fol- \nlows ; — \n\n\" A very slender excuse indeed to whom ought we to \nhearken to the Great Governor of the world or to the Voice \nof the sober and consciencious People, a sennnilar excuse \nonce was given by a King of Gods antient People for his \ndisobedience of a special command because he feared the \npeople but the inspired Profits Introgative Answer was \nhath the Lord as great dilght in burn offerings and sacri- \nfice as in obeying the Voice of the Lord behold to obey is \nbetter than sacrifice and to hearken than the fat of Rambs. \nWe cannot conceive that the diference of opinion or the \nfear of the People ought to cause an abolition of that sacred \ncommand ye fourth Commandment but that it ought to have \nit due extent at one end or the other, perhaps in some \nfuture day this sober and Conscientious party may request \n\n\n1786. DISCONTENT. 895 \n\nan other part of six hours more to be abolished and so on, \nuntill that Great and most Interesting command becomes \nnull and void, not by the traditions of men, but by the Law \nof the State.\" \n\nThe next formal instructions approved by the town \nwere three years later, when, in the summer of 1786, \nMassachusetts was seething with that spirit of discon- \ntent which a few months afterwards culminated in \nShays' rebellion. \n\nThere can be no question that individually the New \nEngland community then felt poor. Those who could \nhad borrowed at usurious interest to pay taxes, and \nnow no one had any ready money. Under these cir- \ncumstances, seeing no way out of the evil which sur- \nrounded them, the people of Braintree seem to have \nshared to the full in the general discontent, and in \nMay, 1786, after choosing a representative, a committee \nof nine was appointed to prepare instructions for him. \nThis committee was further directed to present these \ninstructions to the town \"\" for their approbation pre- \nvious to their being delivered to the representative.\" \nAccordingly, at the adjourned meeting three weeks \nlater the instructions were submitted, and, in the words \nof the record, \" were debated upon untill it was dark in \nthe house, and the inhabitants Dispersed without pass- \ning any Vote whatever.\" Ten days later a special \ntown-meeting was summoned to further consider the \ninstructions, and anew committee of five was appointed. \nThe town was now clearly bent on action, for it gave \nits committee thirty minutes only in which to consider \nthe subject. At the end of that time the moderator \ncalled the meeting to order, and the conmiittee sub- \nmitted its report. The town's representative was \nthereupon instructed to use his efforts to secure the \nfollowing results : — \n\n\n89G EXHA us TION. 1786. \n\n''1st. To remove the Court [State Legislature] from \nBoston. \n\n\" 2dly. To Tax all Public Securities. \n\n\" 3dly. To Tax money on hand and on Interest. \n\n\" 4thly. To Lower the Sallery of place men. \n\n\" othly. Make Land a Tender for all debts at the Price \nit stood at when the debts were contracted. \n\n\"Gthly. To take some measur to prevent the growing \nPower of Attorneys or Barristers at Law.\" ^ \n\nThis was in July. In September following, three \nmonths before Shays' outbreak, these instructions were \nmore fully matured at another town-meeting. In their \nfinal shape they breathed the full communistic spirit \nof the time, and contrast singularly with the better \npapers of ten years before. A new set of men had \ncome forward in town affairs who could neither write \nEnglish nor grasp principles of political* action. Brain- \ntree accordingly now indulged in the following rhe- \ntorical bombast : — \n\n\" The clouds are gathering over our heads pregnant with \nthe most gloomy aspects, we abhor and detest violent meas- \nures. To fly to Clubs or Armes, to divert the impending \nRuin the consequences of which would render us easy vic- \ntims to foreign and inveterate foes. No as Loyal Subjects \nand Cytizens inflamed with true Patriotism we feel ourselves \nchearfully willing to lend our aid at all times in supporting \nthe dignity of Government, but in as much as there are \nnumerous Grievances or intolerable Burthens by some means \nor other lying on the Good Subjects of this repubHc, Our \nEyes under Heaven are upon the Legislature of this Common- \n\n1 See the articles in warrant for town-meeting held in Groton at this \ntime, Proc. Mass. Hist. Soc. Series II. i. 299-300 ; and the causes of \npublic discontent enumerated in the published memorial of the Wor- \ncester county convention which met at Leicester, August 15, six weeks \nafter the town-meeting- in Braintree. Barry, Massachusetts, iii. 225. \n\n\n1786. SHAYS' REBELLION. 897 \n\nwealth and their names will shine Brighter in the American \nannals by preserving the invaluable Liberties of their own \nPeople than if they ware to Gary the Terror of their Armes \nas far as Gibr alter.\" \n\nThen followed in ten specifications a statement of the \ngrievances complained of, and the remedies suggested \ntherefor. These it is needless to repeat. What the \npeople really objected to was paying their debts. The \nmachinery through which debts were collected was \nconsequently peculiarly obnoxious to them. In regard \nto it they expressed themselves as follows : — \n\n\" 2dly. That the Court of Common Pleas and the General \nsessions of the Peace be removed in perpetuam rei Memo- \nriam. \n\n\" 6thly. We humbly request that there may be such Laws \ncompiled as may crush or at least put a proper check or \nrestraint on that order of Gentlemen denominated Lawyei's \nthe completion of whos modern conduct appears to us to \ntend ratlier to the distruction than the preservation of this \nCommonwealth.\" \n\nYet in this matter, also, the town-meeting would \nseem to have served as a safety-valve. The discontent, \nfor which some ground did exist, there found expres- \nsion ; and the people felt better for it. The spirit of \ndissatisfaction at least had its say, and afterwards, \nwhen the time for decisive action came, the town \narrayed itself on the right side. In December the \ndisturbances in the western counties occurred, and \ncourts, confronted by bayonets and hickory clubs, had \nto be adjourned. On the 12th of January Governor \nBowdoin's appeal to law-abiding citizens was issued, \nand the Suffolk militia were called out. In a few \nhours a company was organized at Brackett's Corner, \nin Braintree North Precinct, and on the 19th of Jan- \n\n\n898 EXHAUSTION. 1787. \n\nnary it marched away towards the Connecticut, as part \nof Colonel Badlani's regiment. It was composed of \nthirty-eight men besides the officers, and upon the roll \nare found all the old Braintree names. On the 22d \nof the following February these men were disbanded \nat Northampton, and the expense incurred by the \nState on their account was £154 9s. 4d. \n\nThe vigorous action of the authorities had put down \nthe rioters ; but the depth of discontent may be in- \nferred from the popular odium which seems to have \nattached to the authorities for so doing. Take Brain- \ntree, for instance. In April, 1786, Governor Bowdoin \nhad received there 41 votes, — all that were cast. One \nyear later, having in that year actually saved civil \ngovernment to the State, he received 40 votes, and \nGeneral Lincoln, his military agent in the work of \nsuppression, 3, while his opponent, Hancock, had 181. \nYet time, in which to let matters adjust themselves, \nwas all that now was needed. Twelve months later, \nwhen John Adams returned from England, after nine \nyears of absence, he spoke of the increase of population \nas \"wonderful.\" As compared with what he had seen \nin Europe, he was amazed at the plenty and cheapness \nof provisions, though the scarcity of money was cer- \ntainly very great. The industries of the country he \nfound in a much better condition than he expected. \nPolitically the state of affairs was less to his taste, and \nhe wrote that \" the people in a course of annual elec- \ntions had discarded from their confidence almost all \nthe old, staunch, firm patriots who conducted the Rev- \nolution, and had called to the helm pilots much more \nselfish and much less skilful.\" On this point the \nBraintree records bear lasting testimony to the correct- \nness of his judgment. \n\n\nCHAPTER XVni. \n\nRECUPERATION. \n\nDuring the next few yeai's no matters of consider- \nable importance would seem to have engaged the \nattention of the town. The people were hard at work \nrepairing the losses of war. The complaint was loud \nover the crushing weight of taxation, and it was \nheavy as compared with the halcyon days already \nreferred to before the Revolution, when the tax-gath- \nerer hardly made his presence felt ; yet even now the \nburden was absolutely light. In Braintree, for in- \nstance, the levy was about $3,300 a year, whereas in \nthe later colonial years it had been but a little over \n$250 ; this seemed a large increase, but, after all, \n83,300 a year amounted only to $1.20 to each indi- \nvidual in the town, while a century later the regular \nannual levy was $12 to each individual. Apportioned \nin this way among the entire population, the taxes \nlevied to pay the war debts of the Revolution w^ere at \nthe time of Shays' insurrection not one tenth part of \nwhat has since become customary. \n\nAnd now, the pressure of war being no longer felt, \nthe old questions which had for years lain dormant \nagain presented themselves. The division of the \ncounty and the annexation to the town of contiguous \nterritory included in other townships were agitated \nonce more. Standing subjects of debate sixty years \nbefore, it seemed as though the town-meeting would \n\n\n900 RECUPERATION. 1785. \n\nnever hear the last of them. How best to take care \nof the town poor was another matter of contention ; \nfor the poor the tovro. had always with it. One party \nadhered to outdoor relief, — helping the indigent at \ntheir homes, the way which had always been pursued ; \nanother party wished to build a poor-house, and pro- \nvide only for those who were paupers, and in it. It \nwas the old familiar question, and Braintree was slowly \nworking out a solution of it. At last, in 1785, the \nparty of innovation carried its point, and the town \nordered that an almshouse should be built '• in the \nform of a Barrack, to be thirty-three feet in length \nand sixteen feet wide.\" But the other partj^ suc- \nceeded in having this vote reconsidered at another \nmeeting, held during the same month. The next \nspring, the almshouse people found themselves again \na majority, and they not only voted the building but \nclinched the matter by adding that this vote should \nnot be reconsidered at any future meeting unless one \nhundred and seventy-three members of the town were \nthere present. This was a new principle introduced \ninto the conduct of town business. Xo such restric- \ntion on the power of a town-meeting had ever been \nattempted before, and it is a matter of surprise that \nno one recorded his dissent to it now. But under \nthis vote the almshouse was built, and the town poor \nmoved into it ; the overseer receiving £3 10s. for his \nservices the first year, and his successor £Q for the \nsecond year. \n\nThe need of a reorganization of the schools also \nbegan to make itself felt. In 1790 an attempt was \nmade to divide the town into districts. A committee \nwas appointed to consider the matter, but its report, \nwhen it made one, was rejected, and the town decided \n\n\n1790. THE SCHOOL ISSUE. 901 \n\nto go on in the ancient way, having \" a Gramer School \nkeept nine months, three in each precinct beginning \nin the North and so on to the Middle and South.\" \nThis action seems to have caused great discontent in \nthe North Precinct. Those living there felt that they \nwere numerous enough and sufficiently prosperous to \nhave a school of their own. They naturally did not \nlike sending their children, during three of the nine \nmonths' yearly schooling, two miles away to the Mid- \ndle Precinct, and, during another three months, four \nmiles away to the South Precinct. Yet the only al- \nternative to so doing, under the arrangement which \nthe town had voted, was to give the children but three \nmonths' schooling a year ; and this was what the vote \nreally meant. Accordingly, the question of political \nseparation suddenly awoke from long sleep. The cen- \ntury was drawing to a close, and this question had \nbeen agitated during its earlier years, — at a time \nwhich no man now active in town affairs could remem- \nber. Sixty years before it had come up for serious \nconsideration, and been referred to a committee of \neight of which John Quincy was chairman. The re- \nport of this committee was unanimous and favored \nthe proposed division ; but the reception it met witli \nin town-meeting was emphatic. The townsmen of that \nday had evidently come to the meeting prepared to \ntake the matter into their own hands. The report \nhaving been read, the record proceeds as follows : — \n\n\" After which, upon a motion made the question was put \nwhether the agreement of the committee should be voted \narticle by article, and it passed in the negative. \n\n\" The question was then put whether all the articles \nthereof should be voted upon at once, it passed again in the \nnegative. \n\n\n902 RECUPERA TION. 1790-1. \n\n\" The Question was then again put wliether they would \naccept of the Report of the said Committee. It passed \nagain in the negative. \n\n\" After this, upon a motion made, the Question was put \nwhether they would Reconsider their last vote, viz., of non- \nacceptance, and it was voted in the affirmative. \n\n\" Then again, the Question was put, whether they would \naccept of the Report of the Committee, and it passed in the \nnegative. \n\n*' Upon which the meeting was dismissed.'* \n\nThis took place in January, 1729 ; and at another \ntown-meeting held in the following May the report \nwas again brought up, and the question was put \nwhether the town would reconsider its former action ; \nand it passed in the negative. It is almost needless \nto add that nothing more was heard on the subject of \ndividing the town. The people showed that they \nwere not ready for it, and the customary leaders who \nseem to have worked the plan up, were compelled to \ndrop it. \n\nBut even in the New England of the eighteenth \ncentury the passage of sixty years changed conditions \nsomewhat ; and now when in May, 1790, an article \nlooking to a territorial division of the town was in- \nserted in the warrant, the town-meeting dismissed it \nonly after considerable debate. Then in the latter \npart of that year one hundred and twenty inhabitants \nof the North Precinct, and fifteen inhabitants of those \nportions of Dorchester and Milton lying immediately \nsouth of the Neponset, joined in a petition to the \nGeneral Court that the regions in which they lived \nmight be incorporated together as a distinct town. \nThe petition came before the Senate for its action in \nJanuary, 1791. While it was still pending a Brain- \ntree town-meeting was called to consider it. \n\n\n1791-2. QUINCY INCORPORATED. 903 \n\nThe struggle between the precincts took place over \nthe choice of moderator, and the record says that \n\" after a long dispute it was finally voted to chuse the \nmoderator by ballot, and Maj. Stephen Penniman \nwas chosen by 93 votes out of 152.\" In other words, \nthe Middle and South precincts were united against \nthe North, and outnumbered it. A committee of six \nwas then chosen to appear before the Legislature by \ncounsel to oppose the division of the town, and its \nrepresentative was instructed to use his influence to \nthe same end. Nor did the other precincts desist \nfrom their opposition to the inevitable so long as \nopposition to it could be made. The dislike to any- \nthing which looks like political dismemberment seems \ningrained ; and, in the case of New England, it is \ndifficult to say which the people most object to, — \nthe surrender of local independence through consoli- \ndation, or the sujiposed loss of local influence through \nseparation. Action towards either has never failed to \nawaken a conservative feeling, which saw nothing but \npolitical disaster in not keeping things exactly as they \nthen were. This was the experience of Braintree in \n1791 ; and in September of that year another town- \nmeeting was held which voted to put forth one last \neffort before the legislative committee in behalf of the \nancient limits. It was unavailing. On the 22d of \nFebruary, 1792, one hundred and fifty-two years, lack- \ning three months, after its original incorporation as \nBraintree, the North Precinct was set off, and ordered \nto be called by the name of Quincy. This act, also, \nwas signed, as governor of the State, by John Han- \ncock, who had himself been born, brought up and \nfound a wife in the territory thus made a town. \n\nIt has already been explained ^ how the name of \n\n1 Supra, 711. \n\n\n904 RECUPERATION. 1792. \n\nQuincy chanced to be selected. At the time, the \nchoice was not wholly satisfactory. Governor Han- \ncock was then at the height of that personal popularity \nwhich he enjoyed in Massachusetts to a degree which \nno other public man has since equalled, and there \nwere those who did not forget that he was a native of \nthe North Precinct. They wanted the new town to \nbe named after him. Richard Cranch, who, it will \nbe remembered, had selected the name of Quincy, was \nat this time, and in the absence of John Adams, the \nleading; citizen of the town. He had married the eldest \ndaughter of Parson Smith, of Weymouth, whose \nsister, Abigail, two years afterwards, in 1764, became \nthe wife of John Adams. Consequently, Mr. Cranch \nand John Adams were brothers-in-law, and their \nwives were grand-daughters of Col. John Quincy. \nHence, probably, the selection of the name. Subse- \nquently a judge of the Court of Conmion Pleas, as \nwell as Quincy's first postmaster, Richard Cranch is \nnow remembered through his son and among lawyers, \nin connection with that series of reports which con- \ntain the early decisions of Marshall. \n\nOn the eighth of March, two weeks after the act in- \ncorporating it was passed, Quincy held its first town- \nmeeting, and chose Major Ebenezer Miller at the head \nof its board of selectmen, thus showing that Major \nMiller's former Church and Tory proclivities were not \nremembered against him. At the meeting in May \nfor the choice of a representative the question of the \ntown name'was brought up, and a strong effort made to \nhave it changed to Hancock. After what is reported \nto have been a long and somewhat heated discussion, it \nwas voted by a narrow majority not to take up the \narticle in the warrant relating to the matter. This \n\n\n1792-1830. PEACE AND MONOTONY. 905 \n\nsettled the question ; and the name of Quincy, thus \npreserved, has since been multiplied and made familiar \nin connection with other and larger towns in regions \nwhich had then hardly been explored. \n\nThe political history of Quincy as recorded in the \ntown-books during the thirty-eight years which next \nensued shows few points of general interest. It was \na period of peace. The people had in a great degree \nmade good the losses of the war, and they were intent \non bettering their condition. Year after year the town \noffices were filled, the regular appropriations made, \nnew roads laid out, and local questions discussed. One \ngeneration went off the stage ; another came upon it. \nAn almshouse was built on the old Coddington farm in \n1815 at a cost of 1)1,973.18; and when in the same \nyear the town-hall and school-house was burnt down, \nthe building which sufficed for both purposes was \npresently rebuilt at a cost of $2,100. Through long \nyears the question of where the new building should \nstand — whether \" adjoining the burying-ground,\" or \n\" adjoining Mr. Quincy 's sheds,\" or \" north of Mr. \nBurrell's house,\" or \" opposite the engine-house \" — \nwas earnestly discussed. Finally it was placed next \nthe burying-ground. It was then only eight years \nsince this had been inclosed. In it lay the bones and \ndust of four generations that had lived and died in the \nNorth Precinct. It stood by the side of the Plymouth \nroad, an open and uneared for common, in which the \nswine ran at large and cattle grazed. Nor was there \nin this apparent desecration anything offensive to New \nEngland eyes. The gravestones were rooted up by hogs \nand trodden down by cows ; the children played among \nthem : but it had been so from the beginning, and that \nit should be so now wronged no one's sense of fitness. \n\n\n906 RECUPERA TION. 1792-1809. \n\nOn points such as these the fathers were the reverse of \nrefined, and before the burying-ground was fenced in \nanother generation had to grow up with a nicer sense \nof decency. At last, in 1809, a number of the inhab- \nitants bought up the rights of passage, herbage and \npasturage on the bit of ground in which their ances- \ntors lay, and, through John Quincy Adams and Josiah \nQuincy, conveyed it to the town, to be thereafter \" set \naside as exclusively a place of human burial.\" \n\nBut incidentally the records of the Massachusetts \ntowns of the earlier years of the nineteenth century are \napt to be suggestive. They reveal conditions which \nhave a species of middle-age flavor. For instance, in \n1792 it was voted in Quincy \" to have Hospitals in \ntown for the purpose or benefit of those who chuse to \nhave the smallpox.\" And again, in 1809, at a special \ntown-meeting, the subject of vaccination was discussed, \nand, after prolonged debate, the majority decided \nagainst it. Piracy, or, as it was more delicately called, \nprivateering, had strong attractions then for the more \nadventurous spirits. The United States was at peace \nwith the world, but England and France were at war ; \naccordingly, on August 12, 1793, just as the French \nreign of terror began, Benjamin Beale, Richard Cranch \nand Moses Black were made a standing committee \" to \nsee that there be not any privateers fitted out from this \nplace by any of the Citizens of the United States or \nothers against any of the beligerent powers, in order \nthat a strict neutrality be kept between us and them.\" \nHaving thus disposed of international questions, local \naffairs next occupied the attention of the town, and the \nhours were fixed at which \" for the future the Bell tole \non Sunday for beginning divine service.\" A few years \nlater, in 1804, the singers are granted twenty-five \n\n\n1810-21. THE CURFEW. 907 \n\ndollai's \" to procure a bass viol for the use of the con- \ngregation ; \" and in 1818, Mr. Daniel Hobart is \n\" authorized and directed to keep the boys in order \nin the meeting-house on Sundays.\" All, be it remem- \nbered, by formal votes of nineteenth century town- \nmeetings. \n\nThe separation of the precincts had thus once more \nunited town and parish, and the political and religious \norganization fell naturally back to just what it was \na whole century before. The town again regulated \nevery detail of church management. In 1810 the \nselectmen were \" authorized to appoint a sexton and \nto mark out his duty ; \" and two years later it was \nmade a part of the sexton's duty \" to ring the bell at \ntwelve o'clock at noon and nine o'clock at night.\" The \nnine o'clock evening bell was the New England curfew, \nand originated in a real and general need at a time \nwhen watches were an expensive luxury within the \nreach of the rich only, and cheap clocks had not yet \nbeen invented. Through seventy years after 1810 the \nnine o'clock curfew rang regularly in Quincy from the \nmeeting-house tower. \n\nThe church singing was also matter of grave dis- \ncussion. The introduction of Hezekiah Bass and the \n\" great bass viol \" into the choir in 1804 had not been \nunopposed. Indeed an ancient and conservative wor- \nshipper was so offended thereat that he rose from his \nseat and incontinently departed from the edifice, re- \nmarking as he went that \" he did not want to go to \nGod's House to hear a great fiddle.\" But the bass viol \nproved merely the edge of the entering wedge, and in \n1821 the question was agitated whether it would not \nbe well to have the selectmen hire a \" professed Master \nof Sacred Musick.\" \n\n\n908 RECUPERATION. 1811. \n\nThe salary of the minister also engaged the atten- \ntion of the town hardly less during this period than it \nhad a century and a half before, in the days of Parson \nTompson. Mr. Whitney had always received five hun- \ndred dollars a year, which sum — such was the immo- \nbility of that time — had for a hundred and seventy \nyears been considered \" a comfortable support in this \npart of the world.\" ^ To this stated, contract salary \nthe town had, by annual vote, been in the custom of \nadding a further sum of one or two hundred dollars. \nIn 1808 Mr. Whitney asked to have his stipend in- \ncreased to eight hundred dollars ; but the request was \nnot complied with. In April, 1811, he addressed an- \nother letter to his parishioners on the subject asking \nthat his salary be increased to i860. This letter was \nreferred to a committee which in due time reported \nthat the pastor's request was wholly reasonable, and \nthat his \" sallary was inadequate to his suitable main- \ntenance ; \" but in view of \" the uncertain and fluctu- \nating state of our public affairs, the great embarrass- \nment under which we at present suffer, and the threat- \nening prospect of still greater,\" a postponement of the \nquestion was recommended. A vote of three hundred \ndollars additional salary for the current year was then \npassed. But from this corresi:)ondence it would seem \nnot unfair to infer the change of values and the stan- \ndard of living had been such that a salary of #900 in a \nMassachusetts town of 1810 was about the equivalent \nof a salary of <£90, or 1300, a century and a half be- \nfore. This it would also be found ^ is not far from the \nproportionate increase in the cost of labor during the \nsame period. \n\n1 Mem. Hist, of Boston, ii. 469. \n\n2 Report (Mass.) on the Statistics of Labor, 1885, 201-312. \n\n\n1812-14. THE WAR OF 1812. 909 \n\nThe \" threatening prospect \" in public affairs here \nalluded to was the imjiending war with Great Britain \nof 1812-14. Quincy was a Federalist town. John \nAdams, true to his old patriotic and Revolutionary- \ninstincts, was an earnest supporter of the Madison \nadministration, which his son, John Quincy, was then \nrepresenting at St. Petersburg ; but his townsmen \nwere on the other side. Warm passages used to \noccur. Nearly seventy years afterwards a Quincy \nboy of that time gave the following entertaining ac- \ncount of one such incident. It is merely necessary to \npremise that the gentleman referred to in it was a \nnear neighbor of Mr. Adams', and in his time the \nmost useful citizen of Quincy : — \n\n\" I remember very well at a social dinner-party in time \nof the war, when the political element ran perhaps as high \nas ever it did, that I liad the honor as well as pleasure to \nstand behind the President's chair as waiter. Directly on \nhis left was seated Thomas Greenleaf, a violent Federalist, \nwho was bearing down upon the old gentleman with more \nzeal than discretion. The President bore it as long as he \ncould, when he raised his left hand and, instead of bringing \nit down on Mr. Greenleaf 's head, which he might perhaps \nhave done with as much propriety, he brought it down upon \nthe table near him with a force that made the plates and \nglasses rattle, and exclaimed in a voice that could not be \nmisunderstood, ' Tom Greenleaf, hold your tongue ! you \nare always down on me when there is no occasion for it.' \nThe scene which followed reminds me of that passage which \nsays, ' There was silence in Heaven for half an hour.' \" \n\nBut at this time Mr. Greenleaf represented much \nmore nearly than the old ex-President what was the \nprevailing political sentiment in Quincy. At every \nannual election from 1812 to 1815, Governor Strong, \n\n\n910 RECUPERA riON. 1812-14. \n\nthe Federalist and anti-war candidate, polled nearly \nthree votes to his opponent's one. His smallest ma- \njority was in 1812, when he had one hundred and \ntwenty-seven votes to fifty-nine cast for Elbridge \nGerry. The second war with Great Britain accord- \ningly left no more marks than the old French wars \non the town record-book ; and, indeed, owing to the \ndisloyal and almost treasonable action of the state \ngovernment, the Quincy militia were called out but \ntwice, marching once to South Boston and once to Co- \nhasset. An absurdly large town bounty, in addition \nto the state pay, was voted to those called into service \nin June, 1814 ; but one short experience sufficed, and \nin December this vote was '' so far repealed as not to \noperate in future.\" Yet at this time the uneasiness \nwas great in the seaport towns. The British ships of \nwar were always hovering on the coast, and in the \nautumn a flotilla ascended the Connecticut, destroy- \ning more than a score of vessels. Edmund Quincy, \nin his life of his father. President Josiah Quincy of \nHarvard College, has vividly reproduced the sensa- \ntions in those days of the dwellers on Quincy Bay : — \n\n\"A general sense of personal insecurity prevailed all \nalong the seaboard. ... In these apprehensions the family \nat Quincy had good reason to share. For the estate bounds \non the ocean, and the fears of boat attacks and foraging \nparties which had haunted the roof thirty years before re- \nturned again to disturb its repose. Every ship enters and \nleaves the port of Boston in full view of the windows of the \nhouse, and it may well be believed that a sharp lookout was \nkept up in the direction of the lighthouse. The first naval \nspectacle discerned from the post of observation, however, \nwas a memorable and an auspicious one. It was the en- \ntrance of the ' Constitution ' into the harbor, on the 29th of \n\n\n1812. WAR MEMORIES. 911 \n\nAugust, 1812, after the capture of the ' Guerriere.' . . . \nToward evening the frigate (recognized as the ' Constitu- \ntion ') came in under full sail, and dropped her anchor be- \nside Rainsford Island — then the Quarantine Ground. The \nnext morning a fleet of armed ships appeared off Point \nAlderton. As they rapidly approached, the ' Constitution * \nwas observed to raise her anchor and sails, and go boldly \nforth to meet the apparent enemy ; but, as the frigate passed \nthe leader of the fleet, a friendly recognition was exchanged, \ninstead of the expected broadside. They joined company, \nand the ' Constitution ' led the way to Boston. It was the \nsquadron of United States ships, then commanded by Com- \nmodore Rodgers, unexpectedly returning from a long cruise. \n\n\" A few days afterwards, Hull, who had just taken the \n' Guerriere,' came with Decatur to breakfast at Quincy. . . . \nThis breakfast is one of the earliest of my own recollec- \ntions. I was a very little child, but I remember perfectly \nweU sitting on Decatur's knee, playing with his dirk, and \nlooking up at his handsome face, the beauty of which struck \neven my childish eyes, and which I still seem to see look- \ning at me from out the far past. . . . As I have already \nrelated, every ship that enters or leaves the harbor can be \nseen from the windows of the house. And as the trium- \nphant entry of Hull in the ' Constitution,' after his victory \nover the ' Guerriere,' had been discerned from the post of \nobservation, so was the departure of Lawi*ence in the ' Chesa- \npeake ' on his fatal quest of the ' Shannon,' — doomed to \n'give up the ship,' but only with his life ; and, with the \ntelescope, the ' meteor-flag of England ' could be seen from \ntime to time flying at the masthead of men-of-war that \nprowled about the mouth of the harbor, so that it was no \nidle fear which suggested the probability of a midnight visit \nfrom a party of foragers or pillagers to that solitary shore. \n\n\" One Sunday there was an alarm that the enemy had \nlanded at Scituate, a dozen miles away. The news was an- \nnounced in the meeting-house during Divine service. The \n\n\n912 RECUPERATION. 1812-15. \n\ncongregation was dismissed at once, and the village was all \nastir with excitement. The bell rang, the drums beat to \narms, and the volunteer companies marched to meet the \nenemy. It is unnecessary to say that they did not find him, \n... I suppose it was on the Sunday following this false \nalarm that the militia companies, in uniform, attended ser- \nvice to return thanks for their escape from the assaults of \ntheir enemies ; though it may have been after some more \nreal and nearer danger. But the circumstance made a deep \nimpression on my young mind by the delightful variety it \ngave to the usual monotony of Sunday.\" \n\nIt was at this time that the town appointed a com- \nmittee to confer with similar committees of the towns \nof Hingham and Weymouth, to devise \" some meas- \nures for the safety and protection of this and those \ntowns against the assaults of the enemy.\" But the \nenemy did not come ; and the actual contribution of \nQuincy to the burden of the war of 1812 was prac- \ntically limited to the sum paid in bounties, and a \nspecial state tax of nine hundred dollars. One coast- \ning schooner also, owned in the town, while on her \nway from the Penobscot to Quincy, was boarded off \nGloucester from an ambitious privateer out of that \nport, and, after some \" ferocious conduct \" on the part \nof the captors, was carried into Marblehead. What \nindividuals from among the youth of Quincy may \nhave served on the Niagara frontier, or fought in the \nnaval battles of Hull, Decatur and Bainbridge, no- \nwhere appears. The official record of the town in this \nwar is unpleasantly meagre. \n\nThe sum raised by taxation for town expenses in \n1815 was §4,000, which covered also the expenses of \nthe church. The growth of the appropriation was very \nslow. In 1792 it had been X350, or 11,160, of which \n\n\n179i:-1830. IMMOBILITY. 913 \n\n£75 had been on account of the schools. Of these \nthere was still but one, — the grammar school at the \ncentre, — while the germs only of outlying district \nschools were to be found. During the first ten years \nof independent town life (1792-1801) the average \nannual levy by taxation was il,680, or about f 1.60 to \nan inhabitant on account of both town and parish ; but \nby 1800 the annual appropriations had increased to \n12,100, and thence to |3,300 in 1810. In 1820 they \nwere 84,000. Four years later the town was separated \nfrom the parish, and accordingly the appropriation \nfor that year feU to 12,800. In 1829 it was 13,500. \nPerhaps a fivefold increase in forty years. The long \nperiod of immobility was drawing to a close. \n\nUp to 1824, the great items of expense were the \nchurch, the schools and the town 23oor ; after 1824 \nthey were the schools and the poor. These have both \nbeen elsewhere referred to. It has been seen that the \ncost of maintaining the town poor throughout the col- \nonial period was out of all j^roportion to what it has \nbeen since. In 1812, for instance, il,000 was raised \nfor that purpose, while only f 785 was raised for the \nschools and f 800 for the church. In 1813 the poor \ncost f 1,665, or as much as both the schools (§800) \nand the church (i 850) combined. A reform was then \ninstituted, and in 1819 the schools cost $1,000, while \nthe church cost $850, and the poor had been reduced \nto $770. In 1824 their cost had been still further \nreduced to $628, while that of the schools had risen \nto $1,150 ; but the poor yet occasioned one quarter \npart of the whole tax levy. Meanwhile the highway \ntax did not appear in the estimates at all, for it was \nstill, as in 1766, paid in kind, or, as the vote of April, \n1825, read, \" For each Day's work one Dollar, for each \n\n\n914 RECUPERATION. 1810-30. \n\nyoke of oxen one dollar per Da}', for each Horse and \nCart one dollar per Da}^ for each plow fifty cents per \nDay, and for each ox-Cart twenty-five cents per day.\" \nIn 1829 the total assessment was |3,GG8. Of this, \n$1,5G3 was for the support of the schools, the master \nat the centre grammar school receiving $500, for which \nsum regularly paid he had, it has already been seen, \nagreed four years previously \" to give up all other \nbusiness and devote his whole time to the school.\" \nThe school committee was further allowed 15 for \" ink \nand brooms,\" which were all the \" incidentals \" then \nrecognized, and $60 for fuel. The district schools \nwere allowed from $30 to $120 each. For their ser- \nvices as selectmen, assessors and overseers of the poor, \nMessrs. Souther, Wood and Taylor received respec- \ntively 170.28, $30.14 and $25.68. For the repair of \nhighways $600 was deemed sufficient. One thousand \ndollars, or nearly a fourth part of the whole, was ap- \npropriated to the support of the poor. * \n\nSuch were the simj^licity and economy of a town \nwhich now counted a population of 2,200 souls, and \nwhich was at last rapidly growing in wealth, for its \nassessed valuation in 1830 exceeded $800,000. The \nburden of taxation, when compared either with popula- \ntion or wealth, was scarcely a sixth part of what it \nafterwards became, and the amount appropriated for \nthe education of each child in the public schools, which \nhalf a century later was sixteen dollars a year, was \nthen but three. Without entering into any compar- \nison of the schools or the roads of 1830 with those of \n1880, it may confidently be asserted that the years \nbetween 1810 and 1830 were in Quincy the golden \nperiod of the old Massachusetts town government. \nNever before had it been so strong, so pure and so \n\n\n1810-30. PROSPERITY AND HARMONY. 915 \n\nsystematic as then ; never had it done its work so well. \nIt was, in fact, an absolutely model government '' of \nthe people, by the people, for the people.\" \n\nThat this was so was due in part to the condition of \nthe town itself, and partly to the influence of one man. \nIn 1810 the population of Quincy was still thoroughly \nhomogeneous ; and it had not ceased to be so in 1830. \nIt was the original Massachusetts stock ; the people \nwere the children of the soil. Still following the old, \nsimple vocations, they were either tillers of the soil, or \nthe citizens and tradespeople who did the work and \nsupplied the wants of those who tilled the soil. They \ncomposed a single religious society, worshipping in \none meeting-house. Each knew the other ; they were \nalmost members of the same family ; nor had the \npolitical family become too numerous. It numbered \nabou^ 1,300 in 1810, and about 2,200 in 1830. As \nrespects worldly condition those composing it were not \nfar separated. No one was rich, and most of those \nwho took any part in town affairs were well to do. \nThere was no alien element ; that is, no one lived in \nthe town and had interests outside of it. The town \npartook also of the spirit of that era of good feeling \nwhich followed the war of 1812. The old Federalists \nwere then absorbed in the party which supported the \nadministration of Monroe, until at last during the six \nyears 1825-30 the opposition in Quincy never threw \nmore than nine votes on election day, and in 1828-9 \nit was limited to a single vote. The largest vote the \ntown ever threw before 1831 was 217 in 1824, when \nGovernor Eustis was chosen. It then gave a heavy \nmajority to the defeated Federalist candidate ; a part- \ning salute, as it were, fired over the grave of that \npolitical party. Then followed the presidential elec- \n\n\n91G RECUPERATION. 1810-30. \n\ntion of 1824, and every vote cast (140) was for the \nAdams electoral ticket. Nor did the Jackson De- \nmocracy obtain any foothold in the town during the \nnext four years ; for in November, 1828, the Adams \nelectoral ticket, defeated in the country at large, had \n140 votes in Quincy out of a total of 143. \n\nThese circumstances were all favorable to a good \nadministration of affairs. The people were well to do ; \nbut they looked closely to their taxes, and they had a \ntraditional horror of waste. Corruption in public office \nwas practically unknown. The scale of town expenses \nwas so limited that no item was too small to escape \nnotice. The sum of five dollars unnecessarily spent, \nor spent for an unaccustomed purpose, might lead to \na town-meeting discussion. Prior to 1810 all busi- \nness had been done in a loose, unsystematic way. The \nannual appropriations were made by vivct voce vote ; \nthe treasurer received the money which the constable \ncollected ; and the selectmen drew it out and paid it \nover to the minister, the schoolmaster, and those who \ncared for the town's poor. No report or estimates were \nmade ; no papers were placed on file. Everything \nwas done on a general understanding. A cruder, less \norganized system could not be imagined. All that \ncould be said was that it was natural, and, like most \nnatural things, it worked well under the circumstances. \nAs the town increased, some one was needed to or- \nganize such a degree of system as the new conditions \ndemanded. That some one appeared in Thomas Green- \nleaf, — the natural leader and administrator of a Mas- \nsachusetts town during the period which immediately \npreceded and followed the war of 1812, while the \ncolonial gentry still controlled Massachusetts through \nthe old Federal organization. As a public man gen- \n\n\n1810-30. THOMAS GREENLEAP. 917 \n\nerated by the New England town system, Mr. Green- \nleaf was as typical in the first thirty years of the nine- \nteenth century as John Quincy was in the seventeenth \ncentury, or as Edmund Quincy was in the sixteenth. \nThe only difference was that the period of immobility \nin which they lived was closed by him, — \" the ages \nof monotony \" extending through two full centuries, \nof which it has been well said they \" had their use, \nfor they trained men for ages when they need not be \nmonotonous.\" ^ \n\nBoston born, Mr, Greenleaf was graduated at Har- \nvard in 1790 ; and coming to Quincy to live in 1803, \nhe remained there until his death in 1854. He speedily \nbegan to take an active interest in town affairs, and he \nshowed how useful in a local way a man of character, \nfair parts and good business capacity can always be. \nMr. Greenleaf was a man of property, and, it has \nalready been seen, a strong Federalist. In 1808, and \nfor thirteen consecutive years thereafter, he was chosen \nto represent the town in the General Court. He was \nthen the leading man in Quincy, and so continued \nuntil towards 1840, when the growth of the democratic \nelement superseded him. In his day he organized \nthe town's business, and he did it admirably. Every- \nthing was systematized. The change began about \n1812, when the charge of the town poor had grown \nto be a scandal. Under Mr. Greenleaf 's close busi- \nness management the cost of maintaining the poor \nwas reduced by more than one half, and his reports on \nthe subject, entered in full in the records, are as inter- \nesting to-day in presence of that still unsolved problem \nof pauperism as they were when written, more than \nseventy years ago. \n\n1 Quoted by J. A. Doyle from Bagehot's Physics and rolitics as the \nmotto for the English in America, The Puritan Colonies. \n\n\n918 RECUPERATION. 1812-18. \n\nHaving reduced the care of the poor to a system, \nMr. Greeiileaf turned his attention to other matters. \nInsensibl}', but steadily, the method of conducting the \ntown business in all its branches was brought into \norder. In March the annual town-meeting took place. \nOver this Mr. Greenleaf, as matter of course, pre- \nsided as moderator. The full list of town officers was \nchosen, and the various articles in the warrant were \nreferred to special committees. The meeting then \nadjourned. In April another meeting was held, and \nthe committees on the almshouse, the schools, the town \nlands and the town finances presented their reports, \nwhich were in writing, and entered into every detail. \nThey were all spread on the record. Another ad- \njournment was then had, and in May the appropria- \ntions were voted. Everything was thus made public \nand of record ; and everything was open to criticism \nand debate. As a system, under the conditions then \nexisting, it did not admit of improvement, and the \nso-called democratic methods which later succeeded it \nwere a mere degradation of government. \n\nIt is needless to say that under this regime the town \nprospered. The debt incurred during the war of 1812 \nwas paid off, as was also a new debt incurred for re- \nbuildins\" the town-hall and school-house burned to the \nground in 1816 ; and through good financial manage- \nment this result was brought about- with no increase \nof taxation. Apart from the support of the church, \nthe total town levy of 1818 was less than 82.00 to an \ninhabitant. Thus as the end of the provincial period \ndrew near, there was in Quincy a condition of general \ngood feeling and 2:)rosperity such as the town had not \nbefore known. It showed itself in various ways. \nJohn Adams was then closing his long life. The wife \n\n\n1822. THE ERA OF GOOD FEELING. 919 \n\nwho had watched the smoke of Bunker's Hill from the \nheights on the Plymouth road beyond the old Brain- \ntree farmhouse had died in 1818, and the son who \nthen stood, a little boy, by her side, was at the head \nof the national cabinet and soon to be chosen presi- \ndent. The meeting-house of 1732 still stood on the \ntraining-field ; but it was old and out of repair. The \ntownspeople began to talk of a new edifice more in \nkeeping with their increased numbers and wealth. \nUnder these circumstances, John Adams, in June, \n1822, moved, as he expressed it, '' by the veneration \nhe felt for the residence of his ancestors and the place \nof his nativity, and the habitual affection he bore to \nthe inhabitants with whom he had so happily lived for \nmore than eighty-six years,\" — thus moved, he con- \nveyed to the people of the town a tract of quarry-land, \nfrom which the material for the building they wished \nmight in part be derived. A special town-meeting was \ncalled in July to take action on this matter, and a com- \nmittee was appointed to wait on the ex-President and \nexpress to him the gratitude with which his townsmen \nreceived his gift. They were instructed to say that, \nhighly as the inhabitants of Quincy estimated the ad- \nvantages that would result from the gift itself, they \nvalued it more as coming from one who by his patri- \notism had shed honor on his native place, and \" to \nwhom, under the smiles of Providence, we are so \nlargely indebted for our independence and prosperity \nas a nation.\" So gratified was the old man by this \ncordial expression of kind feeling that he at once \nadded to his former gift not only a deed of further \nlands, but the whole of his private library, consisting \nof some three thousand volumes. Again the town met \nand spread upon its records further and even warmer \nexpressions of gratitude and veneration. \n\n\n920 RECUPERA TIOX. July, \n\nImmediate steps were taken towards erecting the \nnew meeting-hoiise, but not until Aj^ril, 1826, were ar- \nrangements so far perfected that a building committee \nwas aj>pointed. Thomas Greenleaf was its chairman. \nDuring that summer, and before work of construction \nwas begun, John Adams died . He was over ninety, and \nhis life thus covered one half of the whole settlement \nof the town, lacking only two years. The old order \nof things, like the old meeting-house symbolical of it, \nwas about to pass away. A new generation, with other \ncustoms and modes of thought, was fast coming to the \nfront, and it was fit and proper that the transition \nshould be strongly marked. It was strongly marked. \nOn the 4th of July, 1826, the town celebrated with \nspecial rejoicings the fiftieth anniversary of indepen- \ndence. It was celebrated, as its sturdiest supporter \nhad fifty years before predicted it would be, as \" a day \nof deliverance, Avith pomp and parade, with shows, \ngames, sports, guns, bells, bonfires, and illuminations.\" \nOn that fair, glad day — in the midst of peace and \nprosperity and political good feeling, with the sound \nof joyous bells and booming guns ringing in his ears, \nwith his own toast of ''Independence forever\" still \nlingering on the lips of his townsmen — the spirit of \nthe old patriot j^assed away. But he had lived to see \nwith his own eyes that \" ravishing light and glory \" the \ndistant rays of which had reached him in 1776, and he \nhad found that the end was indeed \" more than worth \nall the means.\" \n\nWarned of the approaching event. President John \nQuincy Adams had left Washington on the morning \nof the 4th of July, and at Baltimore he received word \nof his father's death. He reached Quincy on. the \nmorning of the 13th, the funeral having taken place \n\n\n1826. THEN AND NOW. 921 \n\non the 7th, in the presence of a great concourse of \npeople. The following Sunday, when the church-bell \nrang, he went to the old North Precinct meeting-house, \nand a few hours later he thus recorded his feelings : — \n\n\" I have at no time felt more deeply affected by [my fa- \nther's death] than on entering the meeting-house and taking \nin his pew the seat which he used to occupy, having directly \nbefore me the pew at the left of the pulpit which was his \nfather's, and where the earliest devotions of my childhood \nwere performed. The memory of my father and mother, of \ntheir tender and affectionate care, of the times of peril in \nwhich we then lived, and of the hopes and fears which left \ntheir impressions upon my mind, came over me, till involun- \ntary tears started from my eyes. I looked around the house \nwith inquiring thoughts. Where were those I was then wont \nto meet in this house ? The aged of that time, the pastor \nby whom I had been baptized, the deacons who sat before \nthe communion table, have all long since departed. Those \nthen in the meridian of life have all followed them. Five \nor six persons, then children like myself, under the period \nof youth, were all I could discern, with gray hairs and fur- \nrowed cheeks, two or three of them with famihes of a suc- \nceeding generation around them.\" \n\n\nCHAPTER XIX. \n\nTHE ERA OF CHANGE. \n\nThe original migration from Old to New England \nceased before 1640. No steady westward movement \nof population across the Atlantic again set in until the \nbeginning of the nineteenth centur}', nor, even when \nit did set in, did it gain any great volume until after \nthe year 1830. It was accordingly remarked by Pal- \nfrey in his History of New England that probably \nthere was no county in England where in 1825 the \nstrain of English blood was so free from all foreign \nadmixture as it was among the people of Cape Cod. \nUp to the year 1800 the same thing might have been \nsaid of Quincy. The original settlers bore all of \nthem English names. There were scarcely any excep- \ntions to this rule, and such exceptions as there were — \nsome eight or ten in two hundred and forty — indi- \ncated a French and, possibly, a Norman origin. AU \nof these names are recorded before 1728. A few \nScotchmen, the prisoners of Dunbar, may have been \nlanded in Boston in 1651, and sent out to the iron- \nworks ; ^ but, if such was the case, they did not leave \na single \" Mac \" behind them in Braintree. In 1752 \nthere was a small infusion of German blood, — \" poor, \nsuffering Palatines.\" But these people mostly went \naway ten years later to join more prosperous commu- \n\n^ See an interesting passage on this subject in Bobbins' 200th Mil- \nton Anniversary Address, 20-1. \n\n\nTHE ORIGINAL STOCK. . 923 \n\nnities of their own race at the eastward, and a few \nonly remained to perpetuate the German face under \nAnglicized names. There were a certain number of \nnegroes in the town, — sixty-six, according to the cen- \nsus of 1765, — the descendants of slaves owned by \nthe Quincys, Vassals, Apthorps and Borlands ; and \ntheir names — Pompey, Caesar and Scipio ; Samson \nand Fidelia ; Psyche, Dutchess and Flora — read \nstrangely in the old records of marriages and deaths. \nIn a few years more these had wholly disappeared, \nand the vacant space made by the removal of the old \nstairway in the meeting-house was presumably without \noccupants. When, in 1792, the North Precinct of \nBraintree was set off as Quincy, the names appended \nto the petitions were all English names, — names, \nnearly every one of which had appeared in the town- \nbook for a century. Old, familiar English patro- \nnymics all. An Irishman or an Irish name was as \nstrange and as much a matter of wonderment as a \nFrenchman or a German, and more than an African \nor Indian. \n\nNor had there as yet been anything to cause the in- \nflux of a new population. Even down to 1825 the in- \ndustries of the town had not multiplied. It was still \nthe old farming community already described, — a \ncommunity made up of those who tilled the soil, and \nthose who supplied the tillers' wants. More than a \ncentury and a half before an iron foundry had been \nestablished in \" the Woods,\" but it had soon col- \nlapsed, for '' it was found that every pound of iron \nmade cost more than two pounds imported from Eu- \nrope ; \" and only beds of cinders and slag, and old \nbits of petrified foundation on the banks of Furnace \nBrook marked where the experiment had failed. \n\n\n924 THE ERA OF CHANGE. \n\nEveu the tradition of it luid died away, and as late as \n1699 John Marshall wrote in his diary that \" the \nwoods swarmed much with bears — many were killed, \nand more escaped \" — while for years afterwards the \nregion thereabout was the haunt of the deer. Again, \nshortly after 1750, the poor refugees who settled at \nGermantown had sought to gain a living by making \nglass. But such glass as they made was of the coars- \nest description, for which even then there was small \ndemand ; and this attempt soon shared the fate of the \niron-works. The little capital ventured in it was lost. \nBut these were premature attempts at the introduc- \ntion of strange industries. It was not so with ship- \nbuilding, or with the stone deposits of the town. The \ndwellers along Quincy bay, in common with all other \nseaboard Yankees, took naturally and kindly to salt \nwater, and the shipyards throve at Braintree from an \nearly day until that change of policy took place which \ncaused the United States to withdraw as a competitor \nfor the carrying trade. This was not until after 1860. \nMeanwhile up to 1825 the stone deposits of the town \nremained undisturbed ; but that year the site of a \nquarry was secured for the Bunker Hill Monument \nAssociation, and then the change took place. The \nfame of Quincy granite was now to spread far and \nwide. The existence and durable character of the \nstone had, it is true, long been known ; but up to this \ntime it had been worked only on the surface. The \ncoarse, rough, glacier-tumbled boulders which lay \nscattered over the north and south commons had alone \nbeen used. In Boston, King's Chapel was built of this \nmaterial between 1749 and 1752, and later the fa- \nmous old Hancock mansion on Beacon Hill. At that \ntime they had so little conception of the extent of this \n\n\nQUTNCY GRANITE. 925 \n\nsyenite formation, that in Braintree mncli alarm was \nfelt lest the use of the stone for buildings in other \ntowns would exhaust the supply. For years the sub- \nject was discussed at each town-meeting, and new \nmeasures of ever-increasing stringency — protective \nmeasures — were devised to avert the threatened \ndearth. Accordingly, in 1753, immediately after \nKing's Chapel was finished, a vote was passed forbid- \nding the further removal of boulders from the commons \nuntil otherwise ordered ; for, if the drain went on, un- \nchecked, there would not be enough stone in Braintree \nfor the town's own use ! The difficulty seems to have \nbeen that, with the tools then in use, they were unable \nto work into the rock. The King's Chapel stone, it is \nsaid, was broken into a degree of shape by letting \nlarge iron balls fall upon the heated blocks. At last, \nupon one memorable Sunday in 1803, there appeared \nat Newcomb's Tavern, in the centre of the North Pre- \ncinct, three men, w^ho called for a dinner with which \nproperly to celebrate a feat they had just successfully \nperformed. The fear of the tithingman not restrain- \ning them, they had that day split a large stone by the \nuse of iron wedges. Their names were Josiah Bemis, \nGeorge Stearns and Michael Wild. It was indeed a \nnotable event, for the crust of the syenite hills w^as \nbroken. \n\nQuarries were then opened, but at first only slowly \nand in a small way. The men did not yet know how \nto work the rock, nor had they the necessary tools and \nappliances. Such stone as was taken out was roughly \ndressed for use as door-steps, foundations and gable \nw^alls. There were two problems still unsolved : one \nrelated to handling and dressing the rock ; the other \nto its carriage. Both of these problems Solomon Wil- \n\n\n926 THE ERA OF CHANGE. \n\nlard and Gridley Bryant solved. Neither of these two \nremarkable men were Quincy born. Willard came of \nMaine stock transplanted to Petersham, in Worces- \nter County ; and Bryant was of that Scituate family \nwhich seventy-five years before had furnished Brain- \ntree its active-minded minister. While Willard laid \nopen the quarry and devised the drills, the derricks \nand the shops, Bryant was building a railway. \n\nThis famous structure marked an epoch not only \nin the history of Quincy, but in that of the United \nStates ; and in every school history, it is mentioned as \nthe most noticeable event during the administration of \nthe younger Adams. Its projector, Gridley Bryant, \nhas given his account of how he came to construct it, \nand of the obstacles he had to overcome. His story \nof private apathy and legislative obstruction reads \nlike a repetition of the similar experience of George \nStephenson at nearly the same time in England ; and, \nwhile his project was looked upon as '' visionary and \nchimerical \" on the exchange, at the State-house it \nwas solemnly argued that corporations in abundance \nalready existed, and that it was wrong to take peo- \nple's land under eminent domain for purposes of \nmore than questionable utility. Finally the success of \nthe enterprise was altogether due to the miuiificence \nand public spirit of one of the most eminent and \nenergetic of Boston merchants at a period when Bos- \nton still boasted of a race of merchants foremost in \nforeign trade, — Col. Thomas Handasyd Perkins. He \nsupplied all the funds needed to build the railway, \nover which, on the 7th of October, 1826, Br^^ant \npassed the first train of cars.^ \n\nThis railway was operated, always by horse-power, \n\n1 Mem. Hist, of Boston, iv. llG-20. \n\n\nTHE PIONEER RAILROAD. 927 \n\nfor about forty years. At last, it having then been \nfor a time in disuse, its franchise was purchased by \nthe Old Colony Railroad Company. The ancient \nstructure was completely demolished and a modern \nrailroad was built on the right of way. This was \nformally opened for traffic on October 9, 1871, forty- \nfive years and two days after the original opening in \n1826. There is a certain historical fitness in the fact \nthat, through the incorporation of the Granite railway \ninto the Old Colony railroad, the line which connects \nPlymouth with Boston has become the original rail- \nroad line in America. \n\nAfter 1825, under the strong impetus given to it \nby the building of the railway and the growing shaft \non Bunker Hill, the granite business of Quincy devel- \noped rapidly; and, as the years went on, it revolution- \nized the town. Its influence was everywhere felt, — \nin habits, and modes of life and thought, and in \npolitics. One by one the old traditions gave way. \nBusiness was no longer done as formerly. Firms \ngrew up possessing large means and employing many \nlaborers, and a steady tide both of wealth and popula- \ntion set in. As compared with the statistics of simi- \nlar growth which has gone on during the same time \nat the great commercial centres of the country, the \nfigures representing the growth of the Quincy granite \nbusiness are not large. Boston and St. Louis, New \nYork, Chicago and San Francisco have accustomed \nthe minds and eyes of modern Americans to industrial \nstrides on a wholly different scale. Those cities deal \nin w^orkmen by the thousand and in products by the \nmillion. Against such exhibits no New England \ntown can have anything to show which would cause \nsurprise, their figures amounting at most to the mod- \n\n\n928 THE ERA OF CHANGE. \n\nest statistics of a prosperous trade. It is so with \nQiiincy granite. In the hard, slow work of producing \nit no hirge fortunes were made, no crowded commu- \nnities grew up. On the eastern slope of the Blue \nHill range, where in 1825 the Milton and Quincy \nwoods still stood, is a village containing a population \nlarger than was the population of Quincy in 1830. \nThe creaking of the derrick, the blows of the sledge, \nand the click of the hammer are everywhere heard \nfrom the week-day morning to its night ; and from \nyear's end to year's end the blocks of split and chis- \nelled syenite pass out in a steady stream. Yet in the \ngreat aggregates of modern life it all represents but \nthe labor of a few hundred men, and the well-earned \nreturn on the not large capital of a dozen enterprising \nfirms. But in this, as in other local industrial re- \nspects to be presently referred to, it will be found to \nbe merely a question of scale ; and the results of new \nand extended business enterprises on previous and \nexisting social, economical and political systems and \nconditions which through the last sixty years have \nbeen working themselves out in the country as a \nwhole on the largest imaginable scale, to the astonish- \nment and perplexity of those concerned in it as well \nas of an observing world, — all these results can, it \nwill be found, be seen and studied in little, in the \nexperience of the individual town. Similar causes \nhave produced the same results ; and the transforma- \ntions, puzzling from their magnitude, which have \ntaken place on the larger stage of the whole, can best \nbe explained, as well as witnessed, in the compara- \ntively simple changes of the single unit. \n\nThe period of immobility and sameness had come \nto an end, and the quickening was felt not only every- \n\n\nTHE OLD TANNERY. 929 \n\nwhere, but in all sorts of ways ; so stone-working was \nnot the only new industry which about 1830 began to \nmake its influence felt in Quincy. For more than a \ncentury and a quarter there had then been one tan- \nnery in the town, and at a later day there were sev- \neral. The earlier tanneries were strange, primitive \nestablishments. The vats were oblong boxes sunk in \nthe ground close to the edge of the town brook at the \npoint where it crossed the main street. They were \nwithout either covers or outlets. The beam-house was \nan open shed, within which old, worn-out horses cir- \ncled round while the bark was crushed at the rate of \nhalf a cord or so a day by alternate wooden and stone \nwheels, moving in a circular trough fifteen feet in di- \nameter. In the early years of the last century the \nprices were as primitive as the methods ; for, while \ngreen hides sold for threepence and dry hides for \nsixpence a pound, the tanned article brought but \ntwelvepence.^ Then and long afterwards the dress, \nespecially of the working classes, was largely composed \nof leather, out of which as a material leggings and \nbreeches, coats and shirts were made, as well as shoes \nand gloves. Working in leather was therefore one of \nthe common vocations in all New England towns, and \nthose who worked in it were referred to in the records \nas cordwainers, than which no calling was more fre- \nquently specified ; while sealers of leather were offi- \ncers elected at each annual town-meeting. \n\nConsequently, as markets and means of communi- \ncation developed, it was natural that the Quincy peo- \nple should drift into shoemaking. They did so as \nmatter of course, and as early as 1795 the business \nhad taken root ; the pioneer firm in it making in that \n1 Pattee, Old Braintree and Quincy, 604-5 n. \n\n\n930 THE ERA OF CHANGE. \n\nyear nine hundred and fifty-one pairs of shoes, paying \nfor such as were hand-sewed two dollars a dozen pair. \nIn 1822, a large southern trade was opened, and thirty \nyears later it seemed for a time not improbable that \nQuincy might vie with Brockton, Lynn or Marlbor- \nough as a great centre of this industry ; but the War \nof the Rebellion dealt a heavy blow to Quincy 's south- \nern trade, and the rapid development elsewhere of \nmachine-made work left its old-fashioned methods far \nbehind. \n\nNevertheless, the presence in the town of this indus- \ntry, together with that of stone-cutting, greatly influ- \nenced its character, causing it to reflect with singular \nprecision the larger change going on in the country as \na whole. The population was radically transformed. \nA new race, of different blood and religion, had come \nin. The native New Englander seemed to pass out \nof the fields into the shops, and men of foreign blood \ntook his place. In 1830 the Congregational meeting- \nhouse,— though then called \"the Stone Temple,\" — \nand the Episcopal church were still the only buildings \nin the town in which religious services were held. \nMass had once or twice been observed in dwelling- \nhouses. In 1831 a Universalist society was organized, \nand in 1832 the society built for itself a house, the \npastor of the day asserting, it is said, among other \nthings, that \" the old parish worshipped a man,\" a \nmural tablet in memory of John Adams, surmounted \nby his bust, having been placed in the new church \nbuilding.^ In 1834 another such house was built by \nan Evangelical Congregational society ; and a third \nby the Methodist Episcopal in 1838. From the time \nSir Christopher Gardiner, leaving his wooded hum- \n^ Cornell, Recollections, 68. \n\n\n''THE PRIEST HAD COME.'' 931 \n\nmock on the banks of the Neponset, fled into the for- \nest in March, 1631, down to the beginning of the nine- \nteenth century, there is reason to suppose that no \ncouimunicant of the Church of Rome had a permanent \nabode in Braintree or Quincy ; and, writing in 1765, \nJohn Adams used the expression, already once quoted, \nthat a certain most unusual thing was \"as rare an \nappearance [in New England] as a Jacobite or a Ro- \nman Catholic, that is, as rare as a comet or an earth- \nquake.\" ^ Even as late as 1838 the Roman Catho- \nlics could boast of no consecrated edifice in Quincy. \nThe opening of the granite quarries brought the Ro- \nman Catholics in, and the story connected with the \nfirst celebration of the Mass in the ancient Puritan \ntown runs thus : — \n\n\" Late in the year 1826 a gentleman called to see Presi- \ndent J. Q. Adams, who was then at home. He introduced \nhimself as a Roman Catholic clergyman, and gave his name \nas Rev. Father Pendergast. He told the President that he \ncame to visit the Catholics of this vicinity and administer \nthe sacraments to them, and being a stranger he made bold \nto ask Mr. Adams for information as to how he could find \nthe Catholics. The President received him very kindly, \nand, after some conversation, called in John Kirk [an Irish- \nman in his employ for many years] and introduced Father \nPendergast. The news soon spread through the village \nthat ' the Priest had come.' Confessions were heard that \nnight, and early next morning the first Mass was cele- \nbrated.\" 2 \n\nA few years afterwards there were many of the \nfaith in Quincy : but they were immigrants and they \nwere poor ; the narrow but traditional prejudice \nagainst them and their faith, also, was strong, and \n\n1 Works, iii. 456. 2 Quincy Monitor, May, 1886. \n\n\n932 THE ERA OF CHANGE. \n\nslow to be outgrown. Even as late as 1855 there \nwere those in the town, and among them was a mem- \nber of the board of selectmen for that year, who an- \ngrily demanded that the elaborate granite gateway of \na new cemetery should be taken down because it had \na cross carved upon it ; ^ and the consecration of the \nground was opposed as a Papist custom inconsistent \nwith the idea of a Massachusetts burying-place. It \nwas thirteen years after Father Pendergast is said \nto have made his call on Mr. Adams before an oc- \ncasional Mass was celebrated in the small West \nQuincy school-house ; and then and long after, under \nthe combined Native American and anti-Catholic feel- \ning, Massachusetts was in a dangerous mood. The \nUrsuline convent school in Charlestown had not long \nbefore been destroyed by a mob ; and now in West \nQuincy those of the district who held other religious \nviews expelled the Catholics from the school-house. \nFortunately, better counsels and a kinder feeling pre- \nvailed, and after a short time the services were re- \nnewed ; nor were they again disturbed. In 1842 \nthere were about one hundred Catholics in Quincy ; \nin 1888 there were more worshippers in the three \nCatholic churches than in all the other eight religious \nedifices of the town combined. \n\n1 Pattee, Old Braintree and Quincy, 151. \n\n\nCHAPTER XX. \n\nTHE QUINCY SCHOOL SYSTEM. \n\nIf the multiplication of sects and churches after \n1830 was considerable, that of schools was still more \nso. In the matter of education the state of things had, \nindeed, then become such that it was obvious a change \nof system must be made. The old centre grammar \nschool could no longer be made to suffice. Its condi- \ntion and methods have already been described, and in \n1827 the school committee, of which Thomas Greenleaf \nwas then chairman, reported the whole number of chil- \ndren in all the schools as four hundred and sixty-one. \nOf these, twenty-five only — nineteen boys and six \ngirls — were over fourteen years of age, so early even \nat that late period did the schooling stop. In order to \nrelieve the centre of an excessive attendance, two winter \nschools under masters —called in the reports \"men's \nschools,\" to distinguish them from the old dames' \nschools for children — had been opened, but this meas- \nure failed to bring the wished-for relief. The increase \nof scholars was such that seven score children of all \nages were throughout the winter crowded into the \nsingle school-room at the centre, there to be taught by \none master, who was paid five hundred dollars a year, \naided by one female assistant, who was paid one hun- \ndred and twenty dollars. Under these circumstances \nthe committee of 1827 suggested, not \" for immediate \nadoption, but for deliberate consideration,\" the idea \n\n\n934 QUINCY SCHOOL SYSTEM. \n\nof building a second school-house, which, it stated, \nwould \" afford an immediate and effectual relief for \nmany years.\" Accordingly, after two years of '' delib- \nerate consideration,'' the town, in 1829, voted to build \nthree new school-houses, at widely separated points, and \nthe scale and economy of school-house construction in \nvogue may be inferred from the fact that in 1830 two \nof these then newly constructed buildings, standing \nwithin nine miles of Boston, cost respectively i523 and \ni422. But even this addition to its facilities failed to \nsatisfy the town. A pernicious idea had gained foot- \ning that it was desirable \" to bring the school to every \nman's door ; \" and instead of concentrating children so \nthat they might be divided according to age and taught \nby several teachers in graded schools, the mistaken \npolicy of neighborhood schools of all ages under one \nteacher was adopted. Accordingly, the next year, \nafter a sharp struggle in which the town divided by a \nvote of 84 to 78, it was decided to build two more \nschool-houses. The neighborhood school system was \nthus definitely fixed upon. \n\nThat this should have been so was in some respects \nunfortunate, but it was probably necessary. It w^as a \nmistake naturally incident to government through \ntown-meeting, and merely one more proof that those \nmeetings are not inspired. Having fortunately no \ninfinite wisdom to guide and dwarf them, they go stol- \nidly on, working their way in human and common- \nplace fashion through almost infinite waste and failure \nto a certain degree of success. The process is slow \nand expensive. Accordingly, the policy as respects its \nschools fixed on by Quincy in the town-meeting of \nMarch 8, 1831, remained its policy for over forty \nyears. From an educational point of view it was al- \n\n\nOLD-FASHIONED SCHOOLING. 935 \n\ntogether wrong. The school was near the child's \nhome, but at the school the child learned the least \npossible. The grading of scholars was out of the \nquestion, and incompetent teachers wasted their time \ntrying to impart a little knowledge to many children \nof various ages. It was like carrying on war through \nthe same town-meeting machinery ; and a more waste- \nful system could hardly have been devised. From the \nmoney point of view it did not cost much, for in 1827 \nthe annual appropriation was $3 for each scholar, and \nthe neighborhood system only increased it in 1831 to \n13.67. In 1840 it had faUen to $2.89, and it was \nonly $3.81 in 1850. Not until 1868 did the annual \ncost per scholar increase to over $10. The town had \nthen so grown that what at first was a neighborhood \nsystem had become a system sufficiently centralized. \n\nYet even then, though the public schools had for \nyears been more or less graded, and a somewhat better \ninstruction was possible, the system in vogue had little \nto commend it ; and again the unit reflected the con- \ndition of the aggregate. The teaching was almost \nwholly confined to verbal memorizing, and that singu- \nlar mental exercise known as parsing, or the mechan- \nical application of certain rules of grammar to words \nand sentences. These rules never had any meaning to \nthe scholars, nor did the knowdng how to parse in. any \nway affect the scholar's mode of speaking or w^riting \nhis mother-tongue. It was the same with arithmetic. \nIt was taught by rule. This was that old-fashioned \nschooling, so called, which is still commonly supposed \nto have been simple, but, in some unexplained way, \npeculiarly thorough. Accordingly there are not a few \nwho lose no opportunity to refer to it with respectful \nregret. In point of fact, in no true sense of the word \n\n\n936 QUINCY SCHOOL SYSTEM. \n\nwas it either simple or thorough. By force of constant \niteration, emphasized by occasional whippings, the child \ndid indeed have certain rules and formulas so im- \npressed on the memory that they never afterwards \nfaded from it ; but so did the horse, the dog and the \nparrot. One and the same method of instruction was \napplied to all, human and brute. It was purely a \nmatter of memorizing and imitation ; the observing \nand reasoning faculties, it was supposed, — if, indeed, \nany thought was given to them, — would develop \nthemselves. Since the days of the '' Learned School- \nmaster,\" Benjamin Tompson, school methods in Quincy \nhad become more elaborate and far more expensive ; \nthe child was taught more, such as it was, because \nit went to school more hours, and there were more \nteachers and better text-books : but, so far as intelli- \ngence of method and system was concerned, there had \nbeen little change and no considerable improvement. \nNor were the results anything to be proud of. The \naverage graduate of the grammar school in 1870 could \nnot read with ease, nor could he write an ordinary \nletter in a legible hand and with words correctly \nspelled. \n\nNor in these respects were the schools of Quincy \nworse than those of its sister towns. This was at one \ntime confidently asserted ; and the friends of every \nsystem which breaks down under investigation always \nassert that such system was notoriously defective at \nthe precise point where the investigation took place. \nIn the case of the Quincy schools it was nothing of the \nsort. They were, prior to 1870, quite as good as the \naverage of Massachusetts town schools ; and this ap- \npeared very clearly as the result of careful inquiries \nmade by agents of the State Board of Education in \n\n\n\" whose;'\" WHICH\" AND \"SCHOLAR.\" 937 \n\n1879. It was then found that in a very large propor- \ntion of the towns in Norfolk Caunty the educational \nmethods in use were the same that had been imme- \nmorially in use. They were queerly primitive. Chil- \ndren were still taught to spell orally and in classes, \nand the writing was limited to what was done in the \ncopy-books. Accordingly, when told to write a letter \nof a few lines, many pupils showed at once that they \nhad never been taught even the mechanical part of a \nwritten exercise, while certain of the teachers actually \nwould not permit their schools to be subjected to so \nunheard-of a test. Their scholars were taught to \nparse, and say the multiplication table ; writing letters \nwas no part of school work I Out of eleven hundred \nscholars in two hundred and twelve schools who used in \ncomposition the adverb \" too,\" no less than eight hun- \ndred and fifty-nine spelled the word incorrectly. The \nthree words '' whose,\" \" which\" and \" scholar \" were \ngiven out for written spelling, and while there were \nfifty-eight different wrong spellings of \" which,\" there \nwere one hundred and eight of \" whose \" and two hun- \ndred and twenty-one of \" scholar.\" For thoroughness \nand magnitude these examinations were probably never \nsurpassed. They included the schools of twentj^-four \ntowns, returning five thousand scholars. The tests, of \nthe simplest and most ordinary description, were con- \nfined to showing the results actually obtained in read- \ning, writing and ciphering. There was no escape from \nthe conclusions reached, for the published fac-si miles \nof the examination papers spoke for themselves.^ \nIn 1873 doubts as to the value of the results ob- \n\n^ See Repoi't of Examination of Scholars in Norfolk County, in the \nForty-third Annual Report (1880) of the Massachusetts Board of \nEducation. \n\n\n938 QUINCY SCHOOL SYSTEM. \n\ntained through the methods then long in use had for \nsome time been forcing themselves on the mind^ of \nthose composing the Quincy school committee. They \nreferred in their reports to the condition of *\" immo- \nbility\" which seemed to prevail. There were now \ntwenty-seven schools in the town, in which thirty-two \nteachers were at work on twelve hundred scholars. \nThe annual cost of teaching each scholar exceeded \nfourteen dollars. Thus since 1830 the number of \nthose taught had increased much less than threefold, \nwhile the cost of teaching them had increased over \nfifteen fold. Under these circumstances it was ob- \nvious that a great waste of public money was steadily \ngoing on. The cost of the article purchased had \nbeen immensely increased, without any corresponding \nimprovement in its quality. It was perfectly true the \nschools had been humanized. Boys were no longer \ncompelled by way of punishment to clasp each other's \nhands across the top of an overheated stove until \nholes were burned in their clothes ; nor, supplied with \nraw-hides, were they made to whip each other, while \nthe master stood over them and himself whipped that \none who seemed to slacken in his blows. ^ Scenes like \nthese, worthy of Dotheboys Hall, were reminiscences \nof the past. But there was no reason to suppose that \nthe children when they left school read more fluently^ \nor wrote more legibly, or computed with more facility \nthan had their fathers and mothers before them. \nUnder these circumstances the committee came to the \nconclusion that if the town was not spending an undue \namount on its schools, yet certainly not more than fifty \nper cent, of what it did spend was spent effectively. \nThe whole thing needed to be reformed ; but the \n\n1 Quincy Patriot, February 21, 1874. \n\n\nSCHOOL REFORM. 939 \n\nmembers of the committee did not feel themselves \nqualified to reform it. They therefore stated the case \nto the town, and asked for authority to employ a \nspecialist as a superintendent. \n\nIn the spring of 1875 the desired authority was \ngiven. The result was that reform in school methods \nwhich, known as the \" Quincy system,\" within the \nnext few years excited far and wide an almost unpre- \ncedented interest and discussion.* The essence of the \nsystem was simple, nor was it in any respect new. It \nwas a protest against the old mechanical methods. \nThere w^as to be something in the schools besides \nmemorizing and the application of formulas. The \nchild was no longer to be taught on the same princi- \nples that dogs and jDarrots were taught. The reason- \ning and observing faculties were to be appealed to. \nThe object always to be kept in view was a practical \none. A race of men and women were to be produced \nwho might indeed not be able readily to commit \nthings to memory or to repeat rules out of a grammar ; \nthey would not be disciplined in the ancient way, but \nthey would be accustomed to observe and think for \nthemselves, and at least to read and write English \nwith ease and decently.^ \n\nThis reform was the work of the superintendent \nthen employed, a native of New Hampshire, F. W. \nParker, who, attaining the rank of colonel in the \nUnion army during the Rebellion, after its close had \nstudied elementary instruction as a science in Ger- \n\n^ The leading- features of the so-called Quincy system were set \nforth at the time in a paper entitled The New Departure in the \nCommon Schools of Quincy, Avhich was printed in pamphlet form, \nand passed rapidly through six editions, exciting' much public discus- \n\n\n940 QUINCY SCHOOL SYSTEM. \n\nmany, and now put the results of his studies in prac- \ntice in the Quincy schools. What he did attracted \nalmost at once the notice of educators. He was, of \ncourse, severely criticised by the adherents of the old \nsystem, who vigorously asserted that what was good \nin his methods was not new, and that what was new \nwas not good. The assertion that the results pro- \nduced by the old system were not satisfactory was \nangrily denounced sCS a slur on the well-earned fame \nof Massachusetts. Even if such things were true, it \nwas said, they ought not to be published to the world, \nfor they gave comfort to the enemies of the common \nschool. The educational journals referred to the \naro'uments of Mr. Parker's friends as '' monumental \ndisplays of ignorance,\" and it required the unan- \nswerable facts of the Norfolk County investigation to \nsatisfy them that the earlier condition of affairs in the \nQuincy schools was both correctly stated and not ex- \nceptional. All this noisy discussion did but spread \nfar and w^ide the fame of Mr. Parker's efforts, and \nstrangers soon began to come to Quincy to see what \nthe thing amounted to. Then they came to study it. \nFinally, the town schools became an educational cu- \nriosity for the display to the world of the new system. \nVisitors trooped to Quincy by hundreds, and at times \nthey crowded the school-rooms to such a degree that \nthey became a serious hindrance to instruction. \n\nNor were the means of acquiring a higher education \nin Quincy now limited to its schools. The way to \nself-culture had been thrown wade open to every one \nwho wished to tread it, for a free access to books was \nno longer the exclusive privilege of the rich or the \neducated. In 1871 the sum of §2,500 was at the \nannual town-meeting voted towards the establishment \n\n\nTHE PUBLIC LIBRARY, 941 \n\nof a free public library, provided an equal sum could \nbe raised by private subscription. At that time the \ntown practically had no collection of books in it which \nwas open to all. Accordingly, as it had been in the \nbeginning so it remained down to the year 1846, \nwhen, for those who could afford to buy, the railroad \nmade the bookstores of the city accessible : but, so \nfar as the bulk of inhabitants were concerned, they \nneither had any books within their reach, nor did they \nknow how to use them. The purjjose of John Adams \nin giving his library to the town had wholly failed of \naccomplishment. When he did it he had his own \nyouth in mind ; for, brought up in the Braintree of \nformer days a country lad wholly cut off from the \nmeans of a larger education, he had been compelled \nto break out his own way to success, and his wish in \nold age was to remove the obstacles which had im- \npeded him from the path of future generations of his \ntownsmen. Out of narrow means he accordingly en- \ndowed an academy, and he gave to it his own library, \nthe collection of a lifetime. His motives were gen- \nerous ; but he could not foresee the changes of the \nfuture. Manj^ of the books thus given were rare and \nvaluable ; but students were few, and they found \nwhat they wanted more easily elsewhere. For popu- \nlar use the collection was almost ludicrously inappro- \npriate. The scholar and the public man would feel \nat home in it, but to the average frequenter of the \nmodern public library it was much what a rare edition \nof Shakespeare or of Milton is to one as yet untaught \nto read. \n\nSuch was the situation in 1871 when the move in \nbehalf of a modern public library was made. The \nconditional §2,500 required to be obtained by private \n\n\n942 QUINCY SCHOOL SYSTEM. \n\nsubscription to secure the town endowment was soon \nraised, and in the autumn of 1871 there was opened \nin Quiney one of those institutions, undreamed of in \nformer times, which may without exaggeration be \ncalled the universities of the poor. The crying need \nwhich existed for something of the kind at once be- \ncame apparent. The public library was thronged \nwith young people, and during the next twelve months \nnearly forty-five thousand volumes were borrowed. \nAccordingly, it at once assumed a foremost place \namong the educational influences of the town. \n\nThe gift of a public library building to Quiney nine \nyears later was one of those incidents, both interesting \nand in this case peculiar, which have of late years \nshown in New England how much private munificence \ncan in its results be relied upon to excel all forms \nof public bounty. Designed by the most original and \nbrilliant architect^ of his day, the Crane Memorial \nHall commemorates in a typical way one who was \nhimself singularly typical of New England and of \nQuiney. Born of old Braintree stock, Thomas Crane \nhad gone to the centre grammar school, and wor- \nshipped in the old North Precinct meeting-house until \nhe became a man. He had then in the year 1827 gone \naway, as so many others went then and later, seeking \nhis fortune. A stone-cutter by trade, he settled in \nNew York city, and there married and had children. \nA plain, straightforw^ard, energetic man, he gradually \namassed a fortune, and at last died in New York, \nApril 1, 1875, in his seventy-second year. Though \nhe often came back to Quiney as a visitor, he never \nwas an inhabitant of the town from the time he left it \n\n^ Henry Hobson Richardson ; born 1838 ; graduated at Harvard, \n1859 ; died 1886. \n\n\nTHOMAS CRANE. 943 \n\nin 1827. The members of liis family had few associa- \ntions with it. Yet when the husband and father died, \ntheir thoughts turned to his old Massachusetts home \nas the place where he would most have desired to \nhave his memorial stand. It seemed proper also that \nit should stand there ; for, of all the many young men \nwho early and late had gone out from the town, \nThomas Crane had been the most successful. Deal- \ning all his life in the granite which underlaid his na- \ntive place, his success had been due to the possession \nof those qualities which made New England. He was \nhonest ; he was temperate ; he was religious ; he was \nenergetic and enterprising and patient. His life was \nwholly unassuming, and when he died not many in \nQuincy remembered that such an one had ever lived \nthere. His name is now and will long be a household \nword in the place where he passed his youth, and from \nwhich he went forth ; nor could a better example of \nnative strength and homely virtues be held up before \nits children for imitation. \n\n\nCHAPTER XXI. \n\nTHE ALIEN INFUSION. \n\nThere is a degree of individuality in the business \nhistory of Quincy since the year 1830, and conse- \nquently a certain interest attaches to it, owing to the \nfact that it centred mainly in the syenite which un- \nderlaid the soil. The town dealt in its native stone. \nThe religious development had also a certain character \nof its own. It was liberal. Indeed, the utter ab- \nsence of Calvinism, or strong orthodoxy, in the tenets \nof those inhabiting the North Precinct and Quincy, \nis so marked, and so unusual for a Massachusetts \ncommunity, that it cannot escape notice. The Unita- \nrian movement under Channing's lead, it has already \nbeen seen, excited no surprise among those who re- \ncalled the teachings of Lemuel Briant. On the con- \ntrary, the tendency in Quincy then was towards Uni- \nversalism. Thomas Crane, for instance, feeling a \nstrong religious craving which the teachings of Mr. \nAYhitney did not satisfy, found what he needed, not \nin the Braintree church, where Dr. Storrs still held up \nthe rigid belief of the fathers, but in the broader \nChristianity of \" Father \" Hosea Ballon. The young \nstone-cutter would walk twenty miles of a Sunday to \nlisten to his favorite preacher. No orthodox church \never struck root in Quincy. In matters of education \nthe individuality of the town was less marked. The \nschools were much like the schools elsewhere, and the \n\n\nCONFLICTING ELEMENTS. 945 \n\nsudden development of the \" Quincy system \" came \nfrom without, and was largely a matter of chance. \nNone the less, it was something that such a movement \nwas possible. It showed a mental receptiveness, a \nfaculty of accepting new ideas and responding to \nthem, which was in keeping with the whole religious \nand political record of the community which John \nWheelwright had first taught. The soil was kindly to \nthe reformer, and his labors brought forth speedy \nfruits. Politically, also, the later history of Quincy \nwas not without its individuality and significance. \nThe old and new elements were always at work in it. \nSometimes the one would attain a mastery, and its in- \nfluence would forthwith appear unmistakably in town- \nmeeting, and stamj) itself on the records ; then the \nother would by degrees assert itself, and the ancient \norder of things woidd, to a certain extent, be restored. \nThe old political habits and traditions could not be \ndestroyed ; and yet the rapid infusion of foreign ele- \nments would through long periods of time seem to \nobliterate them. Absorj^tion and education went on \ncontinually : the new affected the old, and the old \ngradually influenced the new. Again, the process \nwdiich upon the large scale was working itself out all \nover the continent, in Quincy can be studied in detail. \nHere was one of the individual units of which the \nother was the aggregate. \n\nAfter the formation of the United States govern- \nment, all through the administrations of Jefferson \nand Madison, including the war of 1812, it has been \nseen that Quincy politically was a strong Federalist \ntown. Down even to the year 1824 it stood firmly \nout. In 1823, Dr. Eustis was elected governor over \nHarrison Gray Otis, the candidate of the old Fed- \n\n\n946 THE ALIEN INFUSION. \n\neralists ; but Quincy none the less gave Mr. Otis a \nmajority of ^% in a total vote of 204. Nor did it \nchange under defeat ; for the next year it gave 63 ma- \njority against Governor Eustis, though his election in \nthe State was a foregone conclusion. Then came the \npresidential campaign of 1825, and the Federal party \ndisappeared forever. In Quincy all were Adams \nmen, and they so remained until long after the elec- \ntion of four years later. But now the Jackson de- \nmocracy began to make its presence felt, though its \ngrowth was very slow. In Noveml)er, 1830, ex-Presi- \ndent J. Q. Adams was brought forward as a candidate \nfor Congress in the Plymouth district. In Quincy \nMr. Adams received 76 votes to 10 cast for the Jack- \nson candidate. At the next state election Marcus \nMorton, the Democratic candidate for Governor, had \n14 votes, while Governor Lincoln received 211. \nThen gradually a change came. A new element had \nfound its way into the town. The old agricultural \ninterest was no longer the only interest. In 1837 \nmore than five hundred hands were employed in the \nquarries. The greater portion of these were not \nQuincy born ; many of them were foreigners, espe- \ncially Irish, and Catholics ; more yet were Ameri- \ncans, from New Hampshire. These last were a sturdy, \nrough, floating population, wdth little knowledge of \ntown traditions, and less respect for them ; and with \na strong general disposition to vote the Democratic \nticket. They did not live in Quincy, but came down \nfrom the north in the spring to get a summer's work ; \nand, at the season of their coming, stage-coach after \nstasfe-coach from Boston would be loaded down with \nthem and their luggage. In March they voted for \nIsaac Hill, or his Democratic nominee, in New Hamp- \n\n\nTHE SHOEMAKER. 947 \n\nshire ; and in November they voted for Marcus Mor- \nton in Quincy. They were a foreign voting element ; \nbut there was also a new domestic voting element \nwhich had now to be taken into account. The shoe- \nmaking population had greatly increased. This was \nof a wholly different type from the stone-working \npopulation. The day of great shoe-factories and \nmachine-made work was yet distant, and the men and \nwomen who made shoes as a trade worked mainly \nat their homes; but, as an occupation, shoemaking \nlacked the manliness and robust, out-door vigor of \nstone-cutting. The shoemaker worked day in and \nday out in the little ill-ventilated cobbler's room at- \ntached to the dwelling, — a room which in winter was \nheated by a stove and smelled of burnt leather. He \nstuck to his last ; and, in doing so, he talked a great \ndeal of politics and of political issues, thoroughly can- \nvassing all men in public life, from President Jackson \ndown to Mr. Greenleaf, the traditional moderator at \ntown-meeting. The shoemaker was, as a rule, not a \nFederalist ; but he did not vote the Democratic ticket \nin the same way the quarry-man voted it. His was \nnot that rough and somewhat turbulent independence. \nIntellectually, he was of a finer, keener type ; physi- \ncally, he did not sustain the comparison well. He \nwas apt to be round-shouldered and hollow-chested, \nthin and long-limbed. He lacked the muscle of the \nstone-cutter. In politics he was inclined to admire \nwhat he called \" smartness \" rather than grasp ; and, \nthough he would not vote for a convicted knave, he \nfelt a good deal of lurking kindness for the successful \nrascal, and an absolute contempt for the well-inten- \ntioned dolt. He loved political intrigue and combina- \ntion, and could be depended upon by the wire-puller ; \n\n\n948 THE ALIEN INFUSION. \n\nthough he soon saw through the merely loud-voiced \ndemagogue. \n\nSuch were the political elements which between \n1830 and 1840 began to mingle and contend for \nmastery in the Quincy town-meeting. First were \nthose of the old, native stock, living by agriculture, — \nslow, conservative and generally disposed to show \nmuch deference to the opinions of the gentry. Next \ncame the quarry-men, composed of noisy, muscular, \nhard-living native Americans, with small reverence. \nThen the foreign-born Catholics, who instinctively \nsided against all settled political traditions. Lastly, \nthe shoemakers, mainly Americans, but disinclined to \nthe old ways and the old leaders ; and disposed to man- \nage things by intrigue and combination, without much \nregard to precedent. It is almost needless to say that \nin the presence of such elements as these the downfall \nof the local gentry influence was a mere question of \ntime. The spirit of democracy was afloat in the land, \nand the movement which had carried Jackson into \nthe Presidency on the larger theatre, on the smaller \nwas destined soon to drive Thomas Greenleaf out of \nthe management of town affairs. The growth year by \nyear of the vote cast for Marcus Morton marks the \nadvance of the tide. In 1829 he received one ballot \nonly; and in 1832 he had but 20. In 1835 he had got \nup to 42, and the next year to 148. Two years later \nthe revolution in public opinion was complete, and \nMarcus Morton polled 260 votes to 172 for Edward \nEverett, then governor and seeking a reelection. \nThe size of the vote showed also the rapid increase of \nthe population under the new business development. \nIn 1830 only 138 ballots were cast in the state elec- \ntion ; in 1840 the number had increased more than \n\n\nCHANGE FOR THE WORSE. 949 \n\nfivefold, aggregating 700. This, it is true, was a \npresidential election, and a very exciting one, — the \nfamous hard-cider and log-cabin campaign. But the \npresidential election of 1828 was also an exciting one, \nin which a Quincy man was a candidate. Yet in \n1828 only 123 votes were cast, or scarcely a sixth \npart of those cast in 1840. \n\nIn the town, as in the nation, the process of absorp- \ntion and amalgamation was now to be gone through \nwith. The inrush of foreign elements had been too \nrapid. It tended to unsettle everything. Nor did it \nsoon stop. Up to this time the agriculturists — the \nfarm-hands — had been mainly Americans. The Irish \nnow began to take the place of these men in the \nfields ; while the new generation of Americans either \nfound employment in shops and mechanical pursuits, \nor became shoemakers. The more adventurous and \nenterprising went to the cities, or sought their for- \ntunes in the West. But the result of it all was a \ncomplete change in the character of the town. It was \na change also for the worse. The old order of things \nwas doubtless slow, conservative, traditional ; but it \nwas economical, simple and business-like. The new \norder of things was in all respects the reverse. The \nleaders in it prided themselves on their enterprise, \ntheir lack of reverence for tradition, their confi- \ndence in themselves ; but they were noisy, unmethod- \nical, in reality incompetent, and much too often \nintemperate. \n\nAccordingly, neither the business record nor the \nmoral record of the town was now creditable. There \nwas, as respects the first, no absolute corruption ; the \nmethod of doing business was simply loose. The \ntown debt was an illustration. It was a small affair, \n\n\n950 THE ALIEN INFUSION. \n\namounting to only a few thousand dollars, when, in \n1837, Congress passed an act for the disti'ibution of \nthe surplus national revenue. Under the operation \nof this act no less a sum than f 5,148 fell to the share \nof Quincy, and was regularly appropriated to the pay- \nment of the town debt. It should have sufficed to \nextinguish it ; yet the very next year the debt was \nlarger than ever. The surplus was muddled away. \nThe expenses exceeded the appropriations ; the de- \nficiencies were not provided for ; the treasury was \nfalling into a system of yearly arrears. So also on \nthe moral side. In 1835, and again in 1836, a move- \nment was made in the direction of temperance reform, \nthrough the insertion of an article in the warrant of \neach year to see if the town would instruct the se- \nlectmen not to license places for the sale \" of Rum, \nBrandy, Gin, or other Spirituous liquors.\" After a \nsharp struggle, the proposition was rejected in 1835 \nby a majority of two only in a total vote of 158. \nAt the election of that year 138 votes were thrown \nfor Governor Everett to 42 for Marcus Morton. \nThe next year Morton's vote increased to 148, and \nthe proposal not to license was defeated by 38 ma- \njority ; nor was it again renewed. The growth of \nsentiment, on the contrary, was distinctly in the other \ndirection. Three years later, in 1839, Morton re- \nceived 326 votes to 231 cast for Everett; the Jackson \nDemocracy was in full ascendency. And now the \nseventeenth article in the warrant for the annual \nmeeting was \" to know if the Town will allow a tem- \nperate use of ardent spirits to the Paupers when they \nwork on the road or farm,\" and by a vote of 96 to 86 \nit was so ordered. The same year the mysterious dis. \nappearance of the contents of a cask of rum stored at \n\n\nTRANSITION. 951 \n\nthe almshouse was made the subject of a jocose para- \ngraph in a formal report made to the town by one of \nits committees. \n\nBut the slow phase of transition through which \nQuincy was now passing is marked most distinctly in \nthe support it accorded to John Quincy Adams than \nin any other one thing. It is hardly necessary to re- \npeat that the phase referred to was not peculiar to \nQuincy. It was a popular movement which originated \nin the West, and spread all over the country. An- \ndrew Jackson was its political exponent. His methods \nwere its methods. The nation, therefore, was its field ; \nbut its spirit and peculiarities can be most closely \nstudied in the town. It is needless to say, also, that \nJ. Q. Adams was no less obnoxious to the new spirit \nthan the new spirit was to him. He had met it before \nin the country at large, and been forced to succumb to \nit. He was now to meet it in his own town. Unlike \nhis father, Mr. Adams had never been closely iden- \ntified with his birthplace. Indeed, from that February \nday, in 1778, when, a boy of ten going with his father \nto Europe, he got into Commodore Tucker's barge on \nMount Wollaston beach to be rowed out to the frigate \nBoston at anchor in the offing, to the time when, in \n1829, he came home a defeated candidate for reelection \nto the Presidency, — a period of half a century, — \nhe was almost a complete stranger in Quincy. Still, \nhe loved the old town, and was fond of telling how \nduring the siege of Boston he used to go up on Penn's \nHill every evening to see the shells thrown by be- \nsieged and besiegers, and how he never afterwards \ndrove over that hill without watching the squirrels and \nwrens running and flying about, whose ancestors' nests \nhe had taken many a time when a boy.^ So, in spite \n\n1 Memoir of Mrs. Quincy, 209. \n\n\n952 THE ALIEN INFUSION. \n\nof the half century of absence and a natural coldness of \nmanner, the townsmen of old English descent saw in \nhim one of themselves. Accordingly, in 1824 the town \ngave the Adams electoral ticket a unanimous vote ; and \nin the campaign of four years later his victorious oppo- \nnent received only three ballots in Quincy. Between \n1830 and 1836, Mr. Adams was four times elected to \nCongress from the Plymouth district, of which Quincy \nwas then a part. At each election he had almost the \nentire vote of the town.^ In 1833 he was the candi- \ndate of the Anti-Masonic party for governor, and in \nQuincy he had 149 votes to 97 for the two other can- \ndidates. In 1836 the change began, and two years \nlater Morton, the Democratic candidate for governor, \nhad 88 majority over Everett in a vote of 432. Not- \nwithstanding this, Mr. Adams still held the town, re- \nceiving 183 votes to 76 cast for three other candidates. \nTwo years later, in the Harrison campaign, Quincy \nwas closely contested. Mr. Adams, owing to his anti- \nslavery course in Congress, was peculiarly obnoxious \nto the Democrats. The Harrison ticket had a plurality \nof 5 votes in the town out of a total of 700, but Marcus \nMorton for governor ran 48 votes ahead of John \nDavis. Mr. Adams, thouoh receiving: 20 more votes \nthan Governor Davis, the head of the ticket on which \nhe ran, yet fell 3 behind his own opponent, William \nM. Jackson, who had 349 votes. In 1842 there was a \ngeneral collapse of the AYhig party. John Tyler was \nPresident, and the Democracy was altogether in the \nascendant. In Quincy, Morton had a plurality of 31 \n\n^ The exact votes at each election were as follows: — November 1, \n1830 : Adams, 7(5 ; Baylies, 2 ; Thompson, 10. April 1, 1833 : Adams, \n164; Lincoln, 39; Doan, 11. November 10, 1834: Adams, 125; \nBrewer, 1. November 14, 1836 : Adams, 175 ; Lincoln, 9 ; Burrell, 1 \n\n\n\" TRANSIENT STONE-CUTTERS:' 953 \n\nand Mr. Adams, though handsomely leading his ticket, \nwas again beaten, Ezra Wilkinson receiving 289 votes, \nor 4 more than he. Philosophizing over this result in \nhis diary, he remarked that '' the people are a wayward \nmaster.\" In 1844 took place the exciting struggle \nwhich preceded the Mexican war, and Polk was elected \nover Clay. In his district Mr. Adams had two oppo- \nnents, and as the election drew near he looked forward \n\" with scarcely doubting anticipation \" to his own \ndefeat. In Quincy the vote was close, but the Dem- \nocrats maintained their ascendency, though \" consist- \ning,\" as Mr. Adams wrote, \" of transient stone-cutters \nfrom New Hampshire.\" George Bancroft, the Demo- \ncratic candidate, received 8 votes more than Governor \nBriggs ; but this time Mr. Adams had the satisfaction \nof running over 40 votes ahead of the Whig j^resi- \ndential ticket, receiving 345 votes to 312 cast for \nIsaac Hull Wright, his Democratic opponent. The \nelection of 1846 was the last in which Mr. Adams was \nconcerned. That was a year of Whig triumph, and \neven in Quincy the Whig candidate had a large ma- \njority. As for Mr. Adams, he seemed to have out- \nlived the opposition to him, and his parting majority \nfrom Quincy was a gratifying one. It spoke of ear- \nlier times. He received 232 votes to 213 cast for five \ndifferent opponents. \n\nLike the others, this last vote in Quincy was signifi- \ncant. To a certain degree onl}\" was it personal. The \ntown was entering upon a new and distinct phase of \ntransition which already began to show itself in the \nelection returns. In November, 1845, the Old Colony \nrailroad was opened to travel, and from that time \nQuincy became a suburb of Boston. Not, of course, \nthat the change made itself felt at once. The people \n\n\n954 THE ALIEN INFUSION. \n\nwent on in their accustomed ways ; but none the less, \nfrom the beginning of 1846 the country village (for it \nstill was a country village then) and the city were in \nquick and easy connection. The rest was a mere ques- \ntion of time ; and, indeed, it was twenty-five years \nbefore the transition was complete. The successful \norganization of a suburban land company in the north- \nern part of the town in 1870 marked the event. Bos- \nton again, just two hundred and forty-five years later, \nhad enlargement at Mount Wollaston, and Quincy \nbecame a species of sleeping apartment conveniently \nnear to the great city counting-room. \n\nIn 1875 the population was returned at 9,155, or a \nlittle more than fourfold that (2,201) of 1830, and the \norder of change from the agricultural village to the \nsuburban town can be briefly recapitulated. Upon the \noriginal yeoman and farm-hand basis the quarry-men \nhad first come in from outside ; while at the same time \nthe young townsmen had gone out of the fields into the \nshop, abandoning the plough and the scythe for the \ndesk and the awl. Then came the Irish laborer, work- \ning in the quarries, on the roads and as farm-hands, \nbringing with him the church of Rome, and combining \nwith the stone-cutter to vote the Democratic ticket. \nLast of all appeared the dweller near the city, having \nstore, office or counting-room in Boston, and regarding \nQuincy simply as a place convenient, at which his \nfamily lived and he slept. This last class to a very \ngreat degree absorbed the descendants of the original \nsettlers, and the whole mass gradually resolved it- \nself into the modern town community. But certainly \nthe change from Parson Tompson and Teacher Flynt, \nand Judge Quincy and Deacon Bass to the modern \nstone-cutter, clerk and merchant was noticeable. Nor \n\n\nA NEW ISSUE. 955 \n\nas an historical stucl}^ though the stage was small, were \nthe characters of the several periods devoid of interest. \nThe final change in the character of the town thus \nbegan with 1846. Less than two years later John \nQuincy Adams died. The annexation of Texas had \nthen been effected, and the war with Mexico was over. \nA new political question had forced its way to the \nfront, and slavery was the impending issue. Quincy \nwas never a pro-slavery town. The quarry-men and the \nIrish voted the Democratic ticket ; but the old native \nelement had always sympathized with Mr. Adams \nduring his long struggle in Congress, and among his \ntownsmen his teachings had not been lost. Many of \nthem were Democrats ; but they were the old Jackson \nDemocrats, who had grown up opposed to the local \nFederalist and gentry rule of men of the Thomas Green- \nleaf type, and, once they were satisfied that Democracy \nmeant the spread of African slavery, their revolt was \na foregone conclusion. But they were slow in coming \nto that conviction ; for these men were closely iden- \ntified with the leather interests, and the Quincy boot- \nmakers dealt largely with the South. The break came \nin 1848. The conscience Whigs of Massachusetts then \nrefused to vote for General Taylor, and the Barnburn- \ners of New York refused to vote for Lewis Cass. The \ntwo factions met at Buffalo in August of that year, \nand nominated a separate ticket with Martin Yan \nBuren at its head. The political effect of this in \nQuincy was singular, and showed how deep the Con- \ngressional action of J. Q. Adams had sunk into the \nminds of the people there, though the majority of them \nhad twice voted against him. In November, 1848, the \nDemocratic party practically disappeared in the town. \nThe Whig party, which had always supported and \n\n\n95G THE ALIEN INFUSION. \n\nelected ex-President Adams, for the time being retained \nits strength. It cast 246 votes for General Taylor, \nhaving cast 314 for Mr. Clay four years before. But \nthe Democratic strength fell from 324 to 212, while \nthe new liberty party rose from 68 to 170. Horace \nMann, Mr. Adams' successor in Congress, received a \nmajority of 458, in a total vote of 558. A week later \ncame the state election, and the Democratic vote fell \nto 34, Avhile the Free-Soil vote ran up to 250, just fail- \ning of a plurality. \n\nThe work of political disintegration had now fairly \nbegun. The Whig organization was crumbling away, \nwhile the Democratic, except in its foreign vote, was \nhoneycombed with anti-slavery sentiment. The Free- \nSoilers, as they were called, held the balance of power. \nSo things went on until 1854. Then the general col- \nlapse came, and in Quincy it was complete. As usual, \nthe result of political disintegration was at first in no \nway what those who had been engaged in bringing it \nabout either anticipated or desired. For more than \na dozen years they had been working to break up the \nold parties, neither of which could in the least be de- \npended on when any question of slavery was at issue. \nBoth were afraid of it, and the Democracy were at \nheart false upon it. To break up the old organiza- \ntions, and form a new one on an anti-slavery basis \nwas the darling wish of the agitators. Prominent \namong these was Charles Francis Adams, who, all \nhis earlier life a resident in Boston and one of its \nrepresentatives in the Legislature, had upon his fa- \nther's death become a citizen of Quincy. Mr. Ad- \nams in 1848 broke away from the Whig party, and \nwas a candidate for the Vice-Presidency on the ticket \nwith Van Buren. He was now laboring to build up \n\n\nTHE IRISH VOTE. 957 \n\nthe Free-Soil party, and in 1853 he had in Qiiincy \nbeen made the victim of a wretched political intrigue \namong the foreign' Democratic voters of the town. \n\nA convention was then to be held to revise the con- \nstitution of the State. Quincy was entitled to two \nrepresentatives, and it was understood in the town \nthat the Democrats and Free-Soilers would unite, each \nparty naming one delegate. The Free-Soilers were \ntrue to their part of the agreement, and on the first \nballot a Democrat was chosen. Mr. Adams was the \ncandidate of the Free-Soilers ; but the Democratic \nparty of Quincy, as elsewhere, was largely made up \nof Irish, and here again was developed in local town \nexperience one of those race characteristics which on \nthe larger scale and the broader theatre constitute \nproblems of history. The Irish as a class never, then \nor afterwards, liked Mr. Adams, and politically looked \naskance at him. Just as the native Yankee element, \nsprung from the old English stock, did like John \nQuincy Adams because in him, in spite of an outward \ncoldness and restraint of manner, they recognized one \nof themselves, so the Irish did not like his son, be- \ncause, Celts themselves, they instinctively saw in him \nthose characteristics of English and Saxon origin which \na few years later contributed in so marked a degree to \nthe success of the representative of the country at the \nCourt of St. James during the trying diplomatic epi- \nsodes of the War of the Kebellion. Quick of impulse, \nsympathetic, ignorant and credulous, the Irish race \nhave as few elements in common with the native New \nEnglanders as one race of men well can have with an- \nother. Belonging to different branches of the same \nfamily, the two have for centuries grown up amid \nsurroundings wholly unlike ; and when the Irishman \n\n\n958 THE ALIEN INFUSION. \n\ncomes in contact with a public man in whom the char- \nacteristics of New England are ingrained, the small \npolitician and village intriguer fimls a rich field in \nwhich to work, ready to his hand. It was so in \nQuincy in 1853. Stories, ludicrously false but im- \nplicitly believed, were quietly circulated among the \nIrish as to the course Mr. Adams had pursued years \nbefore in the Massachusetts legislature in regard to \ncompensation for the destruction of the convent school \non Mount Benedict, and when the day came enough \nof them were induced to withhold their votes from \nhim to bring about his defeat. It was simply a ease \nof bad faith and village intrigue ; but, for the Irish of \nQuincy, it was locally as unwise and ill-considered an \nact as they could well have been guilty of. As usual, \nthey had been worked upon to their own injury ; nor \nhad they long to wait for the fruits of their folly. \n\nThe incident occurred in March, 1853, and excited \ndeep feeling in the town ; for already, in the disinte- \ngration of parties, the deep-seated popular antipathy \nto foreigners, and especially to the Irish, was making \nitself felt : and the curious feature in it locally was \nthat Mr. Adams, by far the most prominent political \ncharacter in Quincy, was one of the few native Amer- \nicans in the town who did not share in that antipathy. \nNone the less, the latent hostility, amounting to race \nhatred, was there, and the occasion only was needed \nto bring it into violent action. In November, 1853, \nthe proposed revision of the state constitution, the \nwork of the convention chosen in the previous March, \nwas rejected, and twelve months later the town was \nswept from its moorings by the Native American up- \nrising of the year 1854. As by magic, the old party \nlines disappeared. In Quincy the Know-Nothing (as \n\n\nA POLITICAL OVERTURN. 959 \n\nit was called) candidate for governor, a man not be- \nfore heard of in politics, received 549 votes to 140 \ndivided among three other candidates. The foreign \nelement stood helpless. The old party leaders were \nnot so much sent to the rear, as they were left out of \nsight and mind in the senseless rush. The slavery \nissue was forgotten in the presence of race prejudice. \nIt was, as the result showed, but one phase of politi- \ncal disintegration ; the old collapsed as the new crys- \ntallized : but, for the moment, it seemed to the anti- \nslavery workers as if their labors had resulted in \nchaos ; they had endeavored to inspire the popular \nmind with the spirit of liberty, and instead they had \nevoked a demon of hate. \n\nNowhere did this spirit of intolerance rage more \nstrongly than in Quincy. It required four whole \nyears to allay it; and in 1857, when the Know-Nothing \ncandidate for governor was overwhelmingly defeated \nin the State at large, in Quincy he had more than \none hundred plurality. Quarry-man and shoemaker \nunited against the Irish. At last, in 1858, the anti- \nslavery issue asserted its supremacy, and the Eepub- \nlican party came solidly to the front. Even then \nQuincy, reflecting its unassimilated constituency, \nworked but slowly back to its moorings ; and accord- \ningly, in the great Lincoln campaign of 1860, when \nthe Republican ticket received a majority of 44,000 \nin the State, in Quincy it had only a plurality. Again \nin 1862, the year of deepest discouragement during \nthe war, Quincy was one of those tow^ns in which Gov- \nernor Andrew fell behind, his Whig and Democratic \nopponent receiving 87 more votes than he. Yet in \nthe State Andrew had over 28,000 majority. Like \nthe constituencies of certain of the western states. \n\n\n960 THE ALIEN INFUSION. \n\nthat of Quincy consisted largely of different foreign \nelements, which, while they clearly predominated over \nthe old, homogeneous, native element, yet, from race \nantipathy, would not combine with each other ; and \nhence came confusion. But, as is usual under such \ncircumstances, time worked a remedy ; only, in this \ncase, the arena of action being small, the remedy came \nquickly ; and, in the crucial election of 1864, Quincy \nat last squarely ranged itself on the loyal side, the \nLincoln ticket receiving a majority of 234 in a total \nvote of less than a thousand. Indeed, all the other \nelements were then united against the Irish vote and \nthat large faction, composed of the croakers, the \nfault-finding and the otherwise-minded, which never \nfails to make its presence felt under the wearisome \npressure of war. \n\n\nCHAPTER XXII. \n\nTHE REBELLION. \n\nFirst and last Quincy did its full share in the work \nof educating New England and the North up to the \npoint of facing and overcoming the Rebellion. It \nalso was not wanting later. Yet, as in the War of \nIndependence so now, the largest contribution of the \ntown was neither in men nor in money, though as re- \nspects both the calls were honored. As John Adams \nwas the great contribution of Braintree North Pre- \ncinct to the Revolution, so his grandson, Charles \nFrancis Adams, was the great contribution of Quincy \nin the Rebellion. When the war broke out Mr. \nAdams represented the Quincy district in Congress. \nHe had been elected in 1858, on the final subsidence \nof the Native American deluge, and in 1860 he was \nreelected on the Lincoln ticket.^ In March, 1861, \nhis first Congressional term being just completed, he \nwas nominated by Mr. Lincoln as minister to Great \nBritain. In May he left the country, and he re- \nmained abroad until the summer of 1868. His ser- \nvices in London are part of the Quincy war record, \nbut they do not belong to local history. \n\n1 In neither of these elections did Mr. Adams receive a majority \nvote in Quincy. In both he received more votes than any one else on \nthe ticket with him ; but while, in the election of 1858, he had a plu- \nrality of 59 votes, in that of 1860 his opponent, Leverett Saltonstall, \nhad 17 more votes than he, 465 to 448, with 7 scattering. \n\n\n962 THE REBELLION. \n\nIn other respects the record of Quincy in the Re- \nbellion was in no way remarkable. The town did its \nshare. It freely contributed money and supplies, and \nit sent out men. But of the men it sent out, whether \nto the army or the navy, there were none who rose to \ndistinction. At the close of the Rebellion as before \nit, Deacon Joseph Palmer, the Revolutionary briga- \ndier-general, was still Quincy's ranking officer. Dur- \ning the war, that is, between the years 1861 and 1865, \nthe population of the town was about 6,750, while its \nvaluation was returned at a little less than four mil- \nlions of dollars. It could number probably 2,200 \nmen capable of bearing arms. First and last it sent \ninto the field almost one entire regiment, or 954 men, \n757 of whom enlisted for the full term of three years. \nOf the whole number, 39 were killed in battle and 18 \ndied in rebel prisons. In all 105, or one in every \nnine who went out, lost their lives. Still others were \nmaimed. But a Quincy lad, a member of one of the \nfamilies the name of which is most often found in the \nmore recent records of the town, fell in the very first \naction of the war. On the 10th of June, 1861, oc- \ncurred the affair at Big Bethel, Va., and young Theo- \ndore Winthrop was killed. For days after the coun- \ntry rang with his name ; nor is it yet' forgotten. At \nthe same time Francis L. Souther, of Quincy, was \nmortally wounded. A mere boy, he was a member of \nthe Hancock Light Guard, as the Quincy company \nwas called, and had gone with it when the Fourth \nRegiment of Massachusetts militia was rushed off to \nFortress Monroe. His companions presently sent his \nbody home, and it was buried in his native town. \nAfterwards many others were killed or died, and war's \nmortality became a thing of course ; but it was the \n\n\nA LIGHT BURDEN. 963 \n\nsudden tidings of young Souther's death, coming in \nthose early days of June, 1861, which first caused the \npeople of Quincy to realize that their young men had \ngone out to actual battle. \n\nThe money cost of the Rebellion to the towns of \nMassachusetts, apart from what their inhabitants then \nor later contributed in national taxes, was not large. \nIn the case of Quincy it amounted to less than |50,- \n000, including the subscriptions of citizens to bounty \nfunds. In 1861 the town owed 135,000 ; in 1865 it \nowed 157,000. The whole increase of debt due to the \nwar was not equal to one per cent, of the valuation. \nNeither was the rate of taxation between 1861 and \n1865 peculiarly high, or the increase of it rapid. In- \ndeed, the era of extravagance and heavy expenditure \nfollowed the Rebellion rather than marked its pro- \ngress. Nor was the excessive taxation subsequently \nimposed the result of an effort to clear off burdens \ndue to the war. On the contrary, the debt yearly \ngrew larger, so that while between 1861 and 1865, the \nwar period, the rate of taxation increased but one \nthird, and the debt but 135,000, in the four years of \npeace which followed the rate of taxation increased \neighty per cent., while the debt was 116,000 larger in \n1869 than it had been in 1865. Compared with that \nof the Revolution, the war burden of the Rebellion, \nwhether in men or in money, was for Quincy light \nand easy to be borne. In the Revolution there was \nno general government or system of national taxation \nto fall back upon. The states had to meet the requi- \nsitions directly ; and the states made their calls upon \nthe towns. Accordingly, it has been already seen that \nBraintree then sent into the field, first and last, two \nmen out of every three capable of bearing arms, while \n\n\n964 THE REBELLION. \n\na fourth part of the whole wealth accumulated through \na century and a half was consumed in the struggle. \nDuring the Rebellion not two men in five did military \nduty, nor was the accumulated wealth diminished at \nall. On the contrary, even allowing for an altered \nstandard of value, in 1 865 the town was unquestion- \nably richer than it was in 1860. \n\n\nCHAPTER XXIII. \n\nTOWN-MEETINGS AGAIN. \n\nThe close of the Rebellion left Quincy a towTi of \nnearly 7,000 population, and from that time forward \nthe increase both in numbers and in wealth was rapid. \nThe last vestiges of village life now passed away, and \nthe suburban town assumed shape. This change \ncould not take place without bringing up new prob- \nlems for solution ; and again the experience of the in- \ndividual town reflected that of the common country, for \nfirst and most important of these new problems was that \nrelating to municii^al government. It was one thing \nto manage the affairs of a small village community \nthrough the machinery of town-meetings ; it was quite \nanother to manage ♦liose of a place numbering a pop- \nulation of 12,000. In 1830 the annual appropriation \nfor necessary town expenses was $4,500. It has been \nseen how this sum was voted by a small body of men, \nall knowing each other well, having a community of \ninterest and acting under a usage which had the force \nof law. Forty-five years later, in 1876, the annual \nappropriation was $116,000, and the articles in the \nwarrant had swollen from half a dozen in number to \nnearly forty. The character of the town-meeting also \nhad changed. In place of the few score rustics fol- \nlowing the accustomed lead of the parson and squire, \nand asserting themselves only when they thought that \ntheir traditions or equality were ignored, — in place \n\n\n966 TOWN-MEETINGS AGAIN. \n\nof this small, easily-managed body, there was met a \nheterogeneous mass of men numbering hundreds, jeal- \nous, unacquainted, and often in part bent on carrying \nout some secret arrangement in which private interest \noverrode all sense of public welfare. To maintain in \nthese meetings that degree of order which is necessary \nfor transacting business in a methodical way was not \neasy, and the multifarious affairs of a year were to be \nattended to in a single day. Town officers were to be \nelected ; the appropriations were to be considered and \nvoted ; the policy of the town on all disputed points \nwas to be decided. These points also included every- \nthing, — education, roads, health, temperance ; for, as \nthe result of growth, the functions of municipal gov- \nernment expanded and branched out until simplicity \nhad become a tradition. The poll-lists contained the \nnames of more than two thousand voters. For these \nto come together as one legislative body, and pass \nupon numerous and difficult questions in a few hours, \nwould at first seem so impossible that the suggestion \nof such a scheme of municipal ^vernment as a new \nidea of his own would cause an}^ political thinker to \nbe looked upon as a foolish theorist. The thing was \npractical simply because it was habitually done. But \nto adapt the old village system to the new town con- \nditions was the problem which Quincy, in common with \nmany other Massachusetts towns still clinging to the \nancient ways, found forced upon it. Nor is the town- \nmeeting in its actual working fully understood. Since \nDe Tocqueville brought it into wide-world notice, this \nNew England institution has been often described \nand infinitely lauded : but it may well be doubted \nwhether one in ten of those who have philosophized \nover town-meetings ever attended one, much more \n\n\nA SYSTEM OVER-TAXED. 967 \n\never took part in one. Yet, without having done so, \nit is as difficult to understand the practical working \nof the system as it is to describe war without ever \nhaving served in an army or seen a battle. The ideal \ntown-meeting is one thing ; the actual town-meeting is \napt to be a very different thing. To the theorist in \nhistory who should attend one, it would, not improb- \nably, be the rude dispelling of a fanciful delusion. \nHe would come away from it rather amazed that civ- \nilized government was possible through such a system \nthan understanding how New England had been built \nup on it. \n\nThat the town-meeting, as a practical method of \nconducting municipal affairs, should break down under \nthe stress to which a dense city population must sub- \nject it, is a matter of course. It did so in Athens and \nin Rome before it did so in Boston ; for Demosthenes \nand Cicero as well as James Otis and Josiah Quincy \nwere town-meeting orators. Just in the degree in \nwhich civic population increases, therefore, the town- \nmeeting becomes unwieldy and unreliable ; until at \nlast it has to be laid aside as something which the \ncommunity has outgrown. It becomes a relic, though \nalways an interesting one, of a simpler and possibly \nbetter past. Moreover, the indications that the sys- \ntem is breaking down are always the same. The \nmeetings become numerous, noisy and unable to dis- \npose of business. Disputed questions cannot be de- \ncided ; demagogues obtain control ; the more intelligent \ncease to attend. In all these respects, the experience \nof Quincy affords interesting matter for study. \n\nBetween the years 1840 and 1870 the town-meeting \nthere fell to its lowest point of usefulness, as prior to \n1840 it might have been seen in its most perfect form ; \n\n\n968 TOWN-MEETINGS AGAIN. \n\nbut during the later Jacksonian period Thomas Green- \nleaf, and the class of men of which he was a type, lost \ntheir hold, and were supplanted by others. 'They, to- \ngether with their old-fashioned dress and formal man- \nners, were looked upon as antiquated and out of date. \nTheir simple, straightforward, business-like way of \nmanaofins: the affairs of the town was not in accord- \nance with the democratic, young-America ideas then in \nvogue. It was a somewhat dreary period in national \nhistory, — the period of emergence from colonial con- \nditions before the country yet felt sure of its own \nposition, — the up-start period, during which, while \nnoisily and vulgarly asserting itself, the United States \nas a whole was more self-conscious than ever before, \nand continually anxious to know what was thought of \nit abroad. Owing to the facts connected with the de- \nvelopment of the town which have in this narrative \nso repeatedly been referred to, all these phases of the \nnational drama were curiously reproduced on the small \nQuincy stage. Not only did Thomas Greenleaf and \nthe other veterans of the colonial time and federal \npolitics lag superfluous on the stage, but they were \nmade to feel that they lagged. If they were not ac- \ntually hustled off the boards, they were dismissed quite \nunceremoniously and with scant respect. Other men \nbrought other methods ; and, while these men and the \nnew methods unconsciously paved the way to better \nthings in the end, they were in themselves in no re- \nspect an improvement on what went before. On the \ncontrary, for a time the deterioration as respects both \nmen and methods was as marked and discouraging as \nit was in manners ; and it must have required either \nprofound insight into causes and effects, or great sav- \ning faith in the future to enable any one in those days \n\n\nREALISM. 969 \n\nto speak hopefully of the outcome. So far as Quincy \nand its town - meeting government were concerned, \nwhen at last this change fairly took place the business \nof the town had for years been done in the orderly \nand intelligent way already described ; everything of \nimportance at the annual meeting being referred to \ncommittees for consideration, and these committees \nsubsequently making reports upon which the town \nacted at its adjourned meetings. No method of gov- \nernment could have worked better, for the townsmen \nwere accustomed to it ; and this it was which De \nTocqueville lauded so highly. But there was another \nand far from uncommon phase of the system which \nmight at any time have been studied in Quincy during \nthe score of years between 1850 and 1870. Had De \nTocqueville then visited the place on a town-meeting \nday, he would have gone into a large hall the floor of \nwhich, sprinkled with sawdust and foul with tobacco- \njuice, was thronged with men of various types, coming \nin or going out, standing in groups or moving inces- \nsantly to and fro, while among them unruly boys circu- \nlated rapidly, often engaged with shouts and screams \nin some game of undisturbed tag, to them as interest- \ning as it was noisy. There were no rows of seats in \nthe rooni) and but one bench, which ran along its sides. \nAll the men wore their hats, and many of them had \npipes or cigars in their mouths ; while the air reeked \nwith odors, tobacco-smoke being among the least ob- \njectionable. Not a few of those present had plainly \nbeen drinking. On a platform at the further end of \nthe hall was a desk, behind which were the moderator \nand the clerk. The town business for the whole 3'ear \nwas being disposed of and the appropriations voted. \nAmid a continuous sound of voices and moving feet \n\n\n970 TOWN-MEETINGS AGAIN. \n\nthe moderator would bring up in succession the arti- \ncles in the warrant. The custom of referring them to \ncommittees had fallen into disuse, and been abandoned \nin 1852, as un-democratic and not in accordance with \nwhat men are accustomed to designate as the spirit of \nthe times. After 1852, accordingly, everything in the \nQuincy annual warrant was disposed of in a single \nday and on the spot. It was supposed to be a more \nl^rompt, more energetic, — a more popular way of \ndealing with business. The disposition which might \nbe made of any subject was consequently very much \nmatter of chance. Certain questions the town, or in- \ndividuals in the meeting, might be on the watch for. \nThese had been discussed outside, and were or were \nnot to pass unchallenged ; but orderly debate was im- \npossible. Now and again some one would uncover and \naddress the moderator. For an instant there would \nbe silence. If the speaker then knew what he wanted \nto say and how to say it, he would be listened to, \nalways provided he spoke briefly and to the point. \nIf he told a humorous story or made a broad joke he \nwould be uproariously applauded ; for the comic per- \nformer and funny man is a dangerous opponent in \ntown-meeting. If, on the other hand, the w^ould-be \ndebater was long, or dull, or pointless, his voice was \nsoon lost in the hubbub of those moving and talk- \ning about him. For the moderator to preserve order \nand quiet was simply impossible. The audience was \nnumerous, and almost no one was seated. Tired and \nrestless, those composing it were also excited and \nnoisy. Many of them wanted what they called \" fun,\" \nand there was a great deal of horse-play going on. \nThe Dutch auction in the choice of tax-collector was \nin this respect the episode of the occasion. The office \n\n\nDEMOCRATIC METHODS. 971 \n\nwas put up to the lowest bidder. Some one would \noffer to make the collections for five per cent, of the \nlevy, and then would follow bid upon bid, each lower \nthan the other ; until at last, amid shouts of laughter \nand applause, the prize would be struck off at three \nmills or less on the dollar. Finally the warrant would \nbe disposed of, the appropriations voted, and the meet- \ning adjourned. Then at last the moderator and the \nclerk would get together, and from their notes and \nmemories manufacture a record. A few days later \nthe town would for the first time know what it had \ndone at its annual meeting. \n\nSuch a meeting as that described would also be \nlooked upon as usual and orderly ; one in which the \nbusiness had been transacted in a regular way. All \nmeetings were not so, for occasionally there would be \nan organized faction bent on putting through some \njob. When the affairs of any community are managed \nin this way, it scarcely needs to be said that they soon \nfall into confusion. Want of method may be demo- \ncratic, but it is not business-like. Quincy proved no \nexception to the rule. In 1870 government by town- \nmeeting was there plainly breaking down. A general \nlaxity in ways of doing public business had crept into \nall the departments. The school committee, the sur- \nveyors of highways, the overseers of the poor, the en- \ngineers of the fire department, were in the custom of \nasking for such appropriations as they thought suffi- \ncient. If in the hurly-burly of town-meeting these \nwere voted, it was well and good. Those who had the \ndisbursements to make would then keep within the \nsum allotted them — provided they were under no \nspecial temptation to exceed it. If the whole amount \nasked for was not voted, it would be spent all the \n\n\n972 TOWN-MEETINGS AGAIN. \n\nsame ; and the town found itself liable for the bills \nits agents had contracted. There was no great \namount of jobbery and scarcely any corruption, except \nin the small and more contemptible way ; but the soil \nwas being rapidly prepared for both jobbery and cor- \nruption. The growth of a municipal \"ring,\" the \nmembers of which would live on the town just as para- \nsites live on a dog, was a mere question of time. The \nlaborer who worked on the roads, the pauper who \nlived at home while the town paid his rent, the trades- \nman who supplied the pensioned poor, all began to \nfeel a direct interest in the growth of bad govern- \nment. As yet the evil had made no great headway, \nbut the sense of official responsibility and obedience \nto instructions was already relaxed. Officers were \ndisposed to do what seemed in their own eyes \" about \nright,\" regardless of rule ; and the town good-na- \nturedly condoned offences. The result was that the \nfinances fell into confusion. Every year a liberal ap- \npropriation would be made to reduce the town debt, \nbut each year saw that debt grow larger. It rose in \nthis way from 18,000 in 1844 to 1112,000 in 1874, \nand a committee then reported that it represented an \noutlay incurred neither for educational or war or other \nspecial purposes. It was a pure deficiency debt. The \nmoney time and again raised to pay it off had been \nregularly diverted and applied to those ordinary pur- \nposes, the amount spent on account of which almost \ninvariably exceeded the sums appropriated by the \ntown. \n\nSuch were the facts. It remained to find a remedy. \nThis remedy was found, not in a representative city \ngovernment, for the time for that had not yet come, \nbut in a return to the old and correct town-meeting \n\n\nORDER AND SYSTEM. 973 \n\nmethods ; and in this matter the experience of Quincy \nmight be of value to sister towns, for many of them \nhave already found themselves, and others yet will \nfind themselves, in the same position. The younger \nJohn Quincy Adams had then for years been chosen \nby common consent as the moderator of all town- \nmeetings at which he was present. Mortified at the \nway in which business was done and at his own in- \nability to preserve order, he announced a reform. In \n1870, when the town came together at the annual \nmeeting, after the polls for the choice of officers were \nclosed the hall was ordered to be cleared and seats \nbrought in. Then, after the vote was declared, the \narticles in the warrant were taken up ; but not until \nevery voter was uncovered and seated, and pipes and \ncigars extinguished. Order was thus established, and \nin so establishing it history was but repeating itself; \nfor, as long before as 1782, when on the 5th of March \nthe town-meeting of old Braintree assembled \" by Ad- \njournment from yesterday,\" it was voted \"that Every \nmember of the Town Present at this meeting take a \nseat when order'd to it by the moderator.\" So, in \n1870, as doubtless it was in 1782, when every one was \nseated and order was established, deliberation became \npossible. This was a great step gained ; but more \nwas necessary. The warrant had now grown to thirty \nand even forty articles, all of which were acted upon \nin the single evening of a day which had been occu- \npied with voting. The townsmen were tired, excited, \nnoisy and in no mood to do business. Accordingly, \nin 1874 a new step was taken, and the town went \nfairly back to that old system which had been aban- \ndoned more than twenty years before. When at the \nannual meeting officers were elected, it was also voted \n\n\n974 TOWN-MEETINGS AGAIN. \n\nto refer all the business articles in the warrant to a \nlarge committee, which was to subdivide itself, investi- \ngate everything, and at an adjourned meeting report \nits conclusions in the form of votes properly drawn \nup. These the town would then consider. \n\nThe result of this return to business-like methods \nwas remarkable. The town-meeting at once showed \nitself equal to the occasion. After 1874, for fourteen \nyears, and until other elements of growth, population, \nincrease of business and change of political elements \nnaturally developed themselves, every question was \nagain fairly considered and acted upon intelligently, \nwith full opportunity for debate ; the appropriations \nwere carefully made, and all officers required to keep \nexpenditures within them ; a responsible government \nwas established. Then, as if by magic, the finances \nassumed shape. The debt, which for nearly half a \ncentury had defied every effort to extinguish it, now \nfell in nine years from §112,000 to 119,000, and then \nshortly disappeared. Deficiencies were met by special \nappropriations; exceptional outlays were distributed \nover a series of years ; rigid accountability was estab- \nlished. This was done through an intelligent develop- \nment of the ancient village system ; and it is probably \nsafe to assert that never in the two centuries and a \nhalf of town history had that system worked so well, \nor to such general satisfaction, as during those years \nwhen Quincy had grown in wealth and population to \ncity limits. \n\n\nCHAPTER XXIV. \n\nA LONG BATTLE WON. \n\nNor did the reform in town methods stop here. It \nextended itself into other fields. The work done at \nthis time in the schools has already been described ; \nbut, while Mr. Parker was busy in one way there, an- \nother man was busy in a very different way elsewhere. \nIn the days of John Adams it has been seen that \nBraintree did not enjoy a reputation for temperance. \nHis labors in that field of reform, and the poor results \nderived from them, have been referred to. As time \npassed on things hardly seem to have improved, and \nabout the year 1820 it has been said the Rev. Mr. \nNorton, of Weymouth, took occasion of an exchange \nof pulpits to remind his brother Whitney's Quincy \nflock of the unsavory reputation in this respect of the \ntown in which they lived ; and it is further asserted \nthat \" rum-drinking was so common in those days that \nthe discourse made but little impression, except to be \nridiculed.\" ^ Later, the large foreign element which \nthe working of the quarries brought into town tended \nto make matters distinctly worse. The Washing- \ntonian movement made some headway before 1840 ; \nbut, even then, when a temperance convention was to \nbe held in Quincy, the use of the stone temple was \nrefused it. John Quincy Adams, being invited to de- \nliver an address before that convention, accepted; \n\n1 Wilson, 260th Anniversary, 119. \n\n\n976 A LONG BATTLE WON, \n\nand, to their dismay, the parish authorities found \nthat they had shut the ex-President out of his own \nplace of worship. It was too late to retract, and Mr. \nAdams' address on temperance was delivered else- \nwhere. It was now that the town voted (117 to 81) \n\" to discontinue the use of ardent spirits at the alms- \nhouse : \" but still, and for several years to come, the \npost-office was in the bar-room of the principal tavern, \nand thither, among drinking men, daily went women \nand little girls and boys to have letters and papers \nhanded to them across a counter which reeked of rum. \nThen came the period of anti-slavery education, and \nthe minds and thoughts of all were otherwise absorbed. \nAt last, when the Rebellion was suppressed, it is not \ntoo much to say that, through its peculiarities of po- \nsition, population and labor, Quincy was a stronghold \nof the liquor interest. Indeed, peace was scarcely es- \ntablished, and the wave of sectional feeling had not \nyet begun to subside, before the town was again Dem- \nocratic. In 1867 it gave J. Q. Adams, as candidate \nfor governor, 650 votes to 348 which it cast for the \nRepublican ticket. For a town to be Democratic on \nstate issues and Republican on national issues — and \nsuch was the position of Quincy — meant then but one \nthing. It meant intemperance. The foreign vote \ncombined with the Democratic vote, and, having the \nascendency, decreed that unrestrained sale of spirits \nagainst which John Adams, more than a century be- \nfore had so manfully contended. \n\nWhere a crying evil exists, some man is sure soon \nor late to rise up and protest against it. In Quincy \nthat man appeared in the person of one descended \nfrom original North Precinct stock, for the name of \nFaxon is met with on many pages of the town rec- \n\n\nHENRY H. FAXON. 977 \n\nords, and can be found on not a few liead-stones in \nthe old burying-ground. Henry H. Faxon, a man of \nconsiderable individuality as well as of numerous pe- \nculiarities, became interested in the cause of temper- \nance, — or perhaps, it would be more correct to say \nin the cause of total abstinence ; for in the virtue of \ntemperance, whether in drink or speech, he had but \na limited faith. Somewhat imperfectly educated, Mr. \nFaxon could not truthfully be described as conspicu- \nous for dignity of bearing ; and as a public speaker \nhis deliverances were more noted for directness and \nfrequency than for eloquence or correctness of speech. \nHe was known to address the audience forty times \nby actual count at a single annual town-meeting, and \nhardly once in those forty times did his remarks fail \nto elicit laughter, cheers or hisses. That he was de- \nficient in judgment it is hardly necessary to say. \nYet, though often exciting unnecessary opposition \nand ridicule by his methods and the way with which \nin place and out of place he advocated the reform \nhe had come to have at heart, he clung to it with a ten- \nacity sure to produce results. Many at first doubted \nhis sincerity ; but he convinced them that he was in \nearnest by the freedom with which he contributed \nhis labor, his time and his money. His attacks on \nindividuals were so open, public and fearless that from \nthe mouth of any one else they would have been sure \nto lead to blows. Once they did so in his case ; and \nhe was often threatened. Much of his security lay \nprobably in the fact that he was neither vindictive \nnor malignant. Indeed, he was good-ntttured in his \nenmities. He did not lose his temper, and become \nugly and bitter under defeat ; nor did he follow up \nwrongs or slights in any spirit of revenge. He had \n\n\n978 A LONG BATTLE WON. \n\napparently none of that brooding desire to \" get even,\" \nas it is- expressed, with a successful opponent, which is \nalways the characteristic of small, secretive and sour- \ntempered men. Under these circumstances, while in \ntown-meeting, and not without cause, his opponents \nlaughed and jeered at him, and not infrequently hus- \ntled him, yet he laughed and jeered in return, and took \nthe hustling in no ill part. \" Henry,\" as he was famil- \niarly called, was entirely at home in town-meetings. \nSo Yankee met Yankee ; but the work went on. It \nwas a long, hard fight. Not only was the sentiment of \nreform to be aroused, but a strong business and polit- \nical combination had to be broken down. The town \nhad become in a certain way a liquor-selling centre, \nand, as usual, the thing had worked its way into local \npolitics. The reputation of the place suffered. John \nAdams noted down in 1760 that to be \" as litigious as \nBraintree \" had become a common expression ; so now \nit was said that other towns were \" as intemperate as \nQuincy.\" It was sjDoken of as \" a hard place,\" and the \nstone-cutting population was held accountable for the \nbad condition of affairs. The evils of the thing also \nwere keenly felt in many households. Mothers and \nfathers saw their young sons falling into drunken \nways. But it had always been so, and the political \ncombination which favored the continuance of the sys- \ntem was strong. The Democratic leaders controlled \nthe Irish vote ; and the liquor interest had a complete \nunderstanding with the Democratic leaders. The \nIrish vote was thus once more juggled into perpetu- \nating a system under which those whom it represented \nsuffered more than any others in the community. \n\nSo things went on year after year. But as wealth \nand population increased it grew plain that it was not \n\n\nNO LICENSE! 979 \n\na question of temperance only. The cause of good and \nhonest municipal government was also involved. The \ncondition of affairs in this respect already described \nwas rapidly growing from bad to worse. No reform \nin town-meeting methods would suffice unless the dom- \ninant combination was broken down. Then Mr. Faxon \nfound new and potent allies, and suddenly the town \nwas revolutionized. In March, 1881, a Democratic \nand liquor-licensing board of selectmen was, as usual, \nchosen. That same year, largely through the efforts \nof Mr. Faxon, the law of the State was changed so \nthat the question whether \" licenses be granted for the \nsale of intoxicating liquors in this town\" was pre- \nsented squarely to the voters. The result was aston- \nishing. In 1882 there were 1,057 who voted \" No \" to \n475 who voted \" Yes,\" When the thing was presented \nin this plain way the issue was understood, and the \nIrish vote broke from Democratic control. At the \nsame time the friends of good government and tem- \nperance came together. The town-meeting had been \nreformed, and now the bar-room was closed. But the \nlength of the struggle against the last is worthy of \nrecord. It largely exceeded a century ; for in 1760 \nJohn Adams described himself, to use his own w^ords, \nas discharging his venom \"against the multitude, \npoverty, ill government, and ill effects of licensed \nhouses, and the timorous temper, as well as criminal \ndesign, of the selectmen \" who licensed them ; but not \nuntil 1882, one hundred and twenty-two years later, \ndid his local successor in that crusade close, at least \nfor the time being, the last of those houses in Quincy. \n\n\nCHAPTER XXV. \n\n\" THE KIXG IS DEAD ! LONG LIVE THE KING ! \" \n\nIn liis History of the English People, John Richard \nGreen traces the origin of town-meeting government \nto a remote period and a distant region. Whether \nas an historical proposition what he asserts can be ac- \ncepted as wholly sound may be open to question ; ^ \nbut his genetic theory of the familiar Massachusetts \npolitical organization of to-day is hardly less plausible \nthan it is attractive, for he goes directly back to the \nfifth century after the birth of Christ, and \" the dis- \ntrict which is now called Sleswick, a district in the \nheart of the peninsula that parts the Baltic from the \nNorthern seas. ... Of the temper and life of the \nfolk in this older England we know little. But . . . \nin their villages lay ready formed the social and polit- \nical life which is round us to-day. . . . The life, the \nsovereignty of the settlement, resided solely in the \nbody of the freemen, whose holdings lay round the \nmoot-hill or the sacred tree where the community met \nfrom time to time to deal out its own justice and to \nmake its own laws. ... It is with reverence such as \nis stirred by the sight of the head-waters of some \nmighty river that one looks back to these village moots \nof Friesland or Sleswick. It was here that England \nlearned to be a ' mother of Parliament.' It was in \nthese tiny knots of farmers that the men from whom \n\n1 Supra, 814-15. \n\n\nA PRIMITIVE SYSTEM. 981 \n\nEiigllslimen were to spring learned the worth of public \nopinion. . . . The ' talk ' of the village moot ... is \nthe groundwork of English history.\" \n\nBut, no matter how ancient or whence derived, \ntown-meeting government must always remain a prim- \nitive form of government, adapted only to the needs \nof a comparatively simple community, homogeneous, \nand neither too numerous nor with wealth unequally \ndistributed. Its chief excellence lies in the fact that \nit is the most perfect government of the people by the \npeople which has ever been devised ; and its simplicity \nis its most strikino- characteristic. In New Eno^land \nthis form of government has now had an unbroken \ncontinuance of two centuries and a half, and two hun- \ndred and fifty years are no small portion of recorded \nhistory ; there are few human institutions, much less \nmere governmental machines, to which so long an ex- \nistence is given. But, besides that decadence which \nseems to be a necessary incident to mere lapse of time, \nthe New England government by town-meeting has \nlimitations in other respects, often experienced and \nto which reference has more than once been made. \nThough, as this narrative has shown, admitting of very \nconsiderable development, and far more elastic and \nadaptable to circumstances than would naturally have \nbeen supposed, this, like other forms of government, \ndoes not admit of boundless development, nor has it \nan infinite elasticity. The requirements of a Massa- \nchusetts village community during the colonial period \nwere few and comparatively simple, — the church, the \nschools, the highways and the poor completed the list. \nBut not only were the requirements of the original \ncommunities few and their annual outlay small, but \nthe communities themselves were made up of human \n\n\n982 '^THE KING IS DEAD!\" \n\nmaterial of like character, living under conditions not \nvery dissimilar. Those composing it were, in fact, \nmembers almost of a common family. \n\nWhen this is duly considered, the matter for sur- \nprise is, not that the town-meeting governments of \nMassachusetts have during the nineteenth century \nshowed a tendency to break down, but that they have \nstood the strain to which they were subjected so well \nand lasted so long. It is now sixty years since the \ncolonial system in Massachusetts finally passed away. \nIt died with the original constitution of 1780 ; and it \nwas within the limits of Quincy that the building of \nGridley Bryant's railway in 182G struck the key-note \nof change for the coming time. That the original \nmunicipal system imjn-o vised in 1630 should have yet \nsurvived and worked satisfactory results through the \nlong period of sixty years after that key-note was \nplainly sounded, affords conclusive evidence of its \nvitality as w^ell as its excellence. \n\nDuring those sixty years the differentiation in mod- \nern town life has taken place. The simple has be- \ncome complex. The church has indeed been separated \nfrom the state ; but in place of the one function of \nwhich the state as represented in the municipality was \nthus relieved, the town government has assumed an \nalmost infinitude of others. The schools have been \nmultiplied no less than the branches of instruction, \nuntil even the more rudimentary forms of education \nhave become the province of specialists. The high- \nways are crushed under the weight of a traffic, which, \nin the case of Quinc}', reduces the firmest known pave- \nment to pow der, and exhausts the ingenuity of the \nengineer. The care of the sick, the poor and the in- \nsane has been magnified into a science and reduced to \n\n\nNEW CONDITIONS. 983 \n\na system. These were the ancient and traditional \nfunctions of the town, and all of them have through \nthe natural process of development passed in the lar- \nger centres of population beyond the handling capacity \nof the ordinary official, and of necessity devolved upon \na class of men specially trained to deal with them. \nMeanwhile other and new needs have made themselves \nfelt : — the public peace must be 2:)rovided for ; scien- \ntific provision must be made against fire ; streets need \nto be lighted ; questions of public health are to be con- \nsidered ; the introduction of water necessitates drain- \nage ; the old burying-ground develops into the modern \ncemetery ; the public school is supplemented by the \npublic library ; and the training-field and ancient com- \nmon, having passed away, are now replaced by the \npublic garden and the park. The performance of the \nduties necessarily pertaining to all these things, calling \nas they do for almost infinite special knowledge and a \ncomplicated financial machinery, was imposed little by \nlittle on the old town governments. It is as if an an- \ncient country cart — well designed, honestly made of \nexcellent material, altogether good in its day and for \nthe work then needed of it — should by degrees be \ncalled upon to do that for which a modern railroad \ntrain is required. As a matter of course the cart \nmust break down under a strain to which it was never \ndesigned to be subjected. \n\nAs it was with Boston in 1822, and has been with \nmany other municipalities since, so was it with the \ntown government of Quincy in 1887. Never had it \nbeen better administered, never had it performed its \nwork in a way more satisfactory, never had the repu- \ntation of the town stood so high among its sister towns, \nas it then had for fifteen years ; but, nevertheless, \n\n\n984 ''THE KING IS DEAD.\"' \n\nthose in position to wateh most closely the working \nof the machine could not but be sensible that it was \nrapidly being- subjected to a strain it could not per- \nmanently bear, and that its continued satisfactory \nresults were a mere matter of chance, — they de- \npended on the absence of any considerable disturbing \nelement. This could hardly be expected to continue ; \nand when a serious cause of disturbance did occur, \nthe machine, it was evident, would not prove equal to \nthe demands made upon it. \n\nThe decree of fate was indeed written in the figures \nof the census. The population of 2,200, with which \nthe town passed out of the colonial period in 1830, \nhad at the close of the Rebellion in 1865 risen to \n6,700 ; and this enumeration had again twenty years \nlater grown to over 12,000. The whole success of \ntown government depends upon the active interest \ntaken by those entitled to participate in it. A small \nattendance as the town meetings recur indicates a lack \nof interest in public affairs ; and yet, after population \npasses a certain point, a large attendance necessarily \nmakes a town-meeting unwieldy, and incapacitates it \nfor the transaction of business. A full meeting of \nvoters is then apt, in the presence of some exciting \nissue or popular craze, to degenerate into an unruly \nmob. In the case of Quincy there were in 1885 more \nthan 2,500 names on the voting list, while over 2,000 \nballots were actually cast at the election which pre- \nceded the annual March meeting of that year. No \nhall in the town contained space-room in which to seat \nsuch a number of people ; nor were such numbers \nconsistent with the idea of a deliberative body. \n\nThose composing the body were also no longer in \nany way homogeneous. The large infusions of alien \n\n\nTHE ALIEN ELEMENT. 985 \n\nmaterial which from time to time had taken place in \nthe Quincy constituency have been referred to, and \nthe disturbance they caused in the practical working \nof town-meetinof o-overnment described. Had the in- \ncrease of population during the sixty years which fol- \nlowed the close of the colonial period (1830-1890) \ncontinued at the same ratio as the increase during the \nfirst thirty years of the century (1800-1830) the ag- \ngregate in 1890 would have been less than eight thou- \nsand ; in reality it was over sixteen thousand. The \nquestion of nativity then presented itself. Of the \nsixteen thousand only a little more than one in each \nthree was even born in the town, and yet fewer came \nof the old town stock ; while a clear majority of the \nwhole were either of foreign birth or the children of \ninnnigrants. The process of change also was still \nrapidly going on, for, while in 1875 twenty-six in \neach hundred inhabitants were foreign born, in 1885 \nthis number had increased to over thirty. Even of \nthose of American birth one out of each three, having \nbeen born elsewhere, had moved into the town.^ \n\nThus, so far as mere numbers went, the old original \nstock had well-nigh disappeared ; and, though such \nof it as was left still made itself potently felt, a new \nforce might at any time assert itself — as new forces \nhad asserted themselves before — which would in a \nmoment set aside the traditions of the town and revo- \n\n1 Census of Massachusetts, 1885, vol. i. Part I., Ixxv. 75, 542, \n596. With a total population of 12,145, Quincy in 1885 had 4,872 \ntown-horn inhabitants, in which number were, of course, included the \ntown-born offspring- of the foreign-born. Of the foreig-n-born 1,565 \nwere Irish and 57-> Scotch. Of the Americans born in other States of \nthe Union 647 came from Maine and 269 from New Hampshire. \nThere were 6,382 inhabitants both of the parents of whom were for- \neig-n-born ; while those of pure American parentage numbered only \n4,632. \n\n\n986 ^^THE Kn\\G IS DEAD!'' \n\nlutionize its methods. All dei^encled on the popular \nwill of a large and growing business community ex- \npressed through the forms of an annual election, and \nsubsequent general town-meetings. The time had \nbeen when almost every man in those town-meetings \nknew by face and name and reputation every other \nman in them, while the bulk of those who attended \nwere tillers of the soil. In the census of 1885 thirty- \nseven inhabitants only rej)orted themselves as farmers \nand one hundred and twenty-four as farm laborers, \nwhile the stone-workers and quarry-men were fourteen \nhundred in number. The agriculturist had practi- \ncally disappeared, while at the town-meeting, in place \nof the eighteenth century freeholders, — the colonial \nyeomanry, — there now assembled a great mass of \nmen who, engaged in multifarious occupations, not \nonly neither knew of, nor cared for, the ancient ways \nand old-time traditions, but many of whom regarded \nthose traditions and ways with an impatience and con- \ntempt they were under no pains to conceal as part of \nthe rubbish of an antiquated past. They wanted a \nnew town, organized on modern ideas, — wide-awake, \nas the expression goes, and in touch with what men \nare pleased commonly to designate as the spirit of the \ntimes. \n\nThe business the town-meeting was called upon to \ndispose of had grown also with the growth of the con- \nstituency and of taxation ; the growth of the latter, \nindeed, had, in Quincy as in most other Massachu- \nsetts towns, been phenomenal and well calculated to \nexcite attention, if not alarm. When contrasted with \nthose of the earlier time, and especially of the last cen- \ntury, the figures indicating the self-imposed burden of \nthe later period are curiously significant. For reasons \n\n\nGROWTH EVERYWHERE ! 987 \n\nalready pointed out,^ the returns of the assessor are, \nfor the purposes of this comparison, worse than use- \nless,— they are deceptive. From them, as data, not \neven an approximation can be reached. Bat, while \nthe worldly possessions of the inhabitant of Quiucy \nin 1890 as compared with the possessions of his pre- \ndecessors of a century before could not even be \nguessed at with any approach to exactness, it was a \nfact clearly established that the burden of taxation \neach inhabitant had to bear was increased twenty \nfold. In 1790 it was a little less than sixty cents; in \n1890 it was a little less than twelve dollars. \n\nSuch had been the growth of taxation, and mainly \nwithin thirty years. The increase of the town business \nas measured by the articles in the annual warrant had \nbeen hardly less. In 1830 the warrant contained \nbut thirteen articles, and, excluding mere formal posi- \ntions, only twelve town officers were chosen, among \nthe twelve being a school committee of eight and the \nconstable ; the total amount appropriated did not ex- \nceed f 3,700. In 1865 the warrant had grown to eigh- \nteen articles, the number of officials to be elected was \nseventeen, and the annual appropriation was f 30,000. \nThis was all within reasonable limits, and the growth \nindicated nothing calculated to subject town govern- \nment to an undue strain. In 1885 it was no longer \nso ; the warrant had grown to forty-eight articles, the \nballot for town officials contained fifty names, and \n$120,000 was appropriated. There was, moreover, \nno recognized executive, — no systematic responsibil- \nity for results. In the old days the selectmen had \nattended to everything ; but as town functions in- \ncreased and special knowledge was required, little by \n1 Supra, 691. \n\n\n988 \"77/£ KING IS DEAD!\" 1887. \n\nlittle the selectmen had been stripped of authority \nuntil at last the business of the town — and of neces- \nsity too — had passed into the control of boards and \ncommissions ; — each of these bodies held authority \ndirect from the people of the town, and was responsi- \nble to them alone. \n\nThe only thing that could be said in favor of a sys- \ntem of government so obviously outgrown was that \npractically it worked well. The results produced were \nsufficiently good ; and, in fact, would compare favor- \nably with those produced under any other system of \nmunicipal government which human wit had yet de- \nvised : and to say this was to be able to say much. \nYet this could still be said ; nor could it be denied. \n\nBut, none the less, the change, naturally to be anti- \ncipated and long expected, took place in the spring of \n1887. What are commonly known as the labor organ- \nizations were at that time actively at work, not only \nin Quincy but throughout the State and country ; \nand, during the previous winter, arrangements had \nbeen made for widespread strikes to take place on the \nfirst of May, the object of which was of course to se- \ncure to those who worked with their hands an increase \nof pay, combined with shorter hours of labor. It was \nwell known that these questions had been much dis- \ncussed in the unions of West Quincy, the region in \nwhich the quarries chiefly lay and a community by it- \nself ; and it was understood some sort of an organized \ndemonstration would be made at the annual town- \nmeeting. It of course does not need to be added that \ndemonstrations of this character, organized privately \nand outside, are the greatest elements of danger to \nwhich popular government, and especially town-meet- \ning government, can be subjected. It was so in the \n\n\n1887. A CHALLENGE. 989 \n\ndays of Athens and of Rome, and it will continue to \nbe so as Ions: as human nature and human institutions \nremain as they are. Cleon and Clodius are recurring \ncharacters. \n\nThe warrant for the annual town-meeting for 1887, \nwhen issued in February of that year, was found to \ncontain, among other articles calculated to excite no- \ntice, the following : — \n\n\"• Art. 54. To see if the town will instruct the Select- \nmen, Overseers of the Poor, Road Commissioners, and Man- \nagers of the Mount Wollaston Cemetery not to employ any \nperson as a laborer in their respective departments unless \nhe be a resident of the town. \n\n\" Art. 55. To see if the town will vote that not less than \ntwo dollars per day shall be paid to the employees of the \nto-wn for the ensuing year. \n\n\" Art. 56. To see if the town will vote that nine hours \nshall constitute a day's work for all employees of the town.\" \n\nWhen these articles were read in the warrant, it \nwas well understood that the old order of things, and \nthe management of town affairs which had become \ntraditional, were challenged and on trial. Neverthe- \nless, at the first day of the meeting, when the voting \ntook place and the general committee to consider the \narticles in the warrant was appointed, business went \non in the usual way. John Quincy Adams was chosen \nmoderator ; the committee on the warrant was made \nup wholly irrespective of party, and contained the \nusual names of men well known in the town ; and the \nvote against the licensing of liquor shops was even \nmore decisive than it had been the year before, — or \nvery nearly three to one. Nothing so far indicated \nany unusual popular movement. Three weeks later \nthe adjourned meeting was to be held, at which the \n\n\n990 *'THE KING IS DEAD!'' March, \n\ncommittee on the warrant would make its reports, \nand the town was to act upon them. \n\nWhen that day came it was apparent to all that the \nend of government by town-meeting in Quincy had \ncome also. The meeting was held as usual at one \no'clock, and at that hour the old town- hall, though \nnot yet full, showed unmistakable indications that a \nnew power was about to make itself felt in the trans- \naction of the day's business ; for a solid phalanx of \nmen — young, energetic and very earnest, but of a \ndifferent type of face and bearing from the old at- \ntendant of the meetings — crowded the benches on \nthe moderator's right ; — they were evidently men \nwho worked w^ith their hands, largely Americans of \nIrish descent, and they took pride in calling them- \nselves Knights of Labor, for so the order to which \nthey belonged was named. They were there with a \nplan and for a purpose ; which, as it subsequently \nappeared, had been carefully matured in a course of \nmeetings held by their secret order in St. Mary's Hall \nin West Quincy. These meetings had, indeed, been \nquietly going on during the regular and open sittings \nof the committee on the warrant, whose action step by \nstep was thus supervised. \n\nPresently the hall, which would seat only some 700 \npersons, became so crowded that many had to stand \nin the aisles, while many more turned away unable to \npass the doors ; though not one voter out of four on \nthe poU lists was present, it was obvious the town- \nhouse could not contain all who sought to attend. A \nlarge portion of those entitled to take part in the \ntransacting of business were in this way debarred \nfrom so doing, — practically disfranchised ; and, had \nthis not been so, by their presence they would merely \n\n\n1887. A TEST VOTE. 991 \n\nhave contributed to make the meeting, when it came \nto a decision of contested issues, more unmanageable \nthan it already was. \n\nAt first things proceeded in the regular way, though \nall were conscious of a certain unusual atmosphere, \n— a species of electric tension ; but the customary \nvotes were passed providing for the order of business, \nand the earlier recommendations of the committee on \nthe warrant were adopted. At last an issue was pre- \nsented, and a trial of strength took place. It came \non a recommendation of the committee on the warrant \ninstructing the selectmen to appoint certain police \nofficers to enforce the laws against the sale of intox- \nicating liquors, and making appropriation therefor. \nThe committee, in accordance with the precedents \nestablished in previous years, further reported for \nadoption a form of vote in which the selectmen were \nrequested to appoint Henry H. Faxon a special officer \nfor the enforcement of the laws referred to. \n\nWhile the town at the annual meeting three weeks \nbefore, had, as already stated, voted by an overwhelm- \ning majority against the licensing of bar-rooms, it had \nat the same time, acting on party lines, elected a board \nof selectmen, a majority of the members of which were \nDemocrats, and, as such, known to be against the en- \nforcement of this vote; and it soon became evident \nthat those composing the effective voting force in the \nadjourned town-meeting were in sympathy with the \nmajority of the board of selectmen rather than with \nthe mass of the voters of the town. An industrial \norganization — a trades union — was present, whose \nforces were combined and marshalled as a unit to \nput certain measures through, regardless of logic, \nexpense or legality, and without listening to reason. \n\n\n992 ''THE KING IS DEAD!\" March, \n\nSo those composing this organization now proceeded \nto carry out the purpose for which they had come. \nAfter a spirited debate, the vote recommended by the \ncommittee was defeated by a large majority, and its \ndefeat greeted with noisy applause. The question who \ndominated over the meeting was then settled once for \nall; and, for the remainder of the day, as measure \nafter measure came up, the defeat of the party which, \nfor fifteen years, had conducted the business of the \ntown became more and more pronounced, until their \ndemoralization and rout were complete, and, indeed, \nludicrous. The final test was on the articles of the \nwarrant, which have been recited, relating to the em- \nployment of town laborers. The committee had rec- \nommended the indefinite postponement of these arti- \ncles ; but all of them were now carried by triumphant \nmajorities, and it was frankly avowed, in the course of \ndebate, that those present and in control of the meet- \ning were not only able to have their own way, but, \nregardless of law or sense, intended to do so. It was \nan effective working combination of the Knights of \nLabor, the payers of a poll-tax and those who had \nvoted against the closing of the bar-rooms. And yet, \nat this meeting, although not above one out of four of \nthe legal voters of the town was present, the largest \nnumber voting on any one question upon which the \nmeeting was polled was but 505, while the Knights \nof Labor and their allies numbered, as nearly as could \nbe computed, but about 250. In other words, under \nthe existing conditions and system of government, two \nhundred and fifty men, voting in an organized form, \nwere able to place such results as they saw fit on the \nrecord book of the town. \n\nIt is, of course, needless to say that, so far as the \n\n\n1887. UNBLUSHING ROBBERY. 993 \n\nvotes in relation to the employment of town laborers \nwent, they were neither more nor less than an open and \nunblushing robbery of treasury and tax-payer ; a rob- \nbery in degree only less than if the majority had re- \nversed the figures and decreed nine dollars a day for \ntwo hours' work. In the whole hall there was not a \nsingle man who in the management of liis own affairs \nwould for a moment have thought of doing that which \nthe majority now decreed town officials should do in \nthe management of public affairs ; and the reign of \ncommon sense would instantly have reasserted itself \ncould the question then have been presented in a re- \nverse form through a kindred proposition to the effect \nthat, in borrowing money for the use of the town, such \nborrowing should be confined to citizens or inhabitants \nof Quincy, and that the lenders should receive therefor \nnot less than eight per cent, interest instead of six per \ncent., if six per cent, chanced to be the current rate ; \nor, if it had been proposed that all supplies purchased \nfor public use, including tools and articles for the \nworkhouse, should be purchased only of those in \nQuincy who dealt in such articles, and that the sellers \nshould uniformly receive for them at least twenty per \ncent, over and above the current market rates. Such \npropositions, if advanced, would have been received \nwith derision, and incontinently voted down without a \nvoice in their favor. On the other hand, it was even \nthen well known, and afterwards became apparent, \nthat, with the current rate of wages at §1.50 per \nday, a town which insisted upon paying its employees \nff 2.00 would be overrun with ai3plicants. This proved \nto be the case ; and within ten days after the town- \nmeeting the commissioners in charge of the highways \nhad applications from four times the number of men \n\n\n994 ''THE KING IS DEAD!'' March \n\nthey needed, all of whom were anxious to work ten \nhours a day for the wages fixed by the town. Under \nthese circumstances, acting with creditable indepen- \ndence, the board declined to recognize the vote of the \ntown-meeting, and for that year laborers were paid \n#2.00 a day for ten hours' work. More than they \nasked was not forced upon them. But at the next an- \nnual meeting, the same organization being still in con- \ntrol, this action of the officials was reversed ; and not \nonly did the town formally request its officers to squan- \nder the public money by paying for a given com- \nmodity more than it was worth in the market, — thus \nitself inciting those in charge of its affairs to jobbery \nand embezzlement, — but certain of the foreign-born \nmanual laborers of Quincy were also made by vote of \ntown-meeting a favored class. And in this last re- \nspect the action taken was not without interest as il- \nlustrating the complete way in which the wheel turns \nunder a pure system of popular government. Proba- \nbly nine out of ten of those thus favored were men \nborn in Ireland, many of whom had not been in \nAmerica long enough to be naturalized. It was but a \nfew years since the town by overwhelming majorities \nhad voted in favor of greatly restricting the political \nrights of the foreign-born ; and now, by a majority so \nlarge that the vote was not contested, it insisted on \npaying men of that class larger wages than they de- \nmanded for fewer hours of work than they stood ready \nto give. \n\nYet, in itself, even for Quincy, the action of the \nadjourned town-meeting of March 28, 1887, under \nother circumstances would have meant little. The \ntown had before in its existence repeatedly passed \nthrough such episodes. It was merely one of those \n\n\n1887. TEMPORARY DISTURBANCE. 995 \n\nmovements — irregular as well as spasmodic, — ne- \ncessarily incident to the imperfections of any form of \nhuman government. A disturbing element had been \nintroduced ; and difficulty followed. That the diffi- \nculty was more than temporary there was on the sur- \nface no good reason to suppose. Exactly such a \ndifficulty had arisen after the disturbances of the Rev- \nolutionary period, at the time of Shays' insurrection, \nwhen Azariah Faxon's extraordinary manifesto was \nentered on the town book. Indeed, the attempt of \n1887 to affect the working of the great law of supply \nand demand, through town-meeting action, might well \nhave closed with Faxon's announcement, borrowed \nfrom the records of just a century before, that the \nnames of those responsible for such action — at once \nchildish and demagogic — '^ will shine Brighter in the \nAmerican annals than if they were to Cary the Terror \nof their Amies as far as Gibraltar.\" ^ But, passing \non in the history of the town, another exactly similar \ndisturbance to that of 1888 occurred in 1837, when \nwork on the newly opened quarries brought into the \nplace great numbers of voters, introducing a new ele- \nment into the management of its affairs, so that, it \nwill be remembered, John Quincy Adams then wrote \nthat the Democrats maintained their ascendency, \n\"though consisting of transient stone-cutters from \nNew Hampshire ; \" ^ just as fifty-six years before, his \nfather, at the time of Shays' insurrection, had de- \nscribed how the people, in the course of annual elec- \ntions, had \" discarded from their confidence almost all \nthe old, stanch, firm patriots, and had called to the \nhelm pilots much more selfish and much less skilful.\" ^ \nAnd again another similar disturbance occurred in \n1 Supra, 896-7. ^ Supra, 853. » Supra, 898. \n\n\n996 ''THE KING IS DEAD!\" 1887. \n\n1854, when the Xatlve American or Know-Nothing \nepidemic raged in the manner which has been de- \nscribed.^ In all these cases, the town, for the moment, \nwas torn from its moorings ; but it merely required \nsome degree of patience and the passage of a moderate \namount of time to restore it to order, system and good \nsense. The difficulty now was that the fundamental \nconditions were changed. Not only was the constit- \nuency no longer homogeneous, — that difficulty time \nwould cure, — but in size it had become unmanage- \nable ; — and time would in that respect only tend to \nmake matters worse. It was the consciousness of this \nfact which oppressed J. Q. Adams, as at the close of \nthe meeting he wearily left that moderator's chair \nwhich he had occupied by common consent through \nthe sessions of almost a score of years. Meeting at \nthe foot of the platform, Mr. Porter, who had acted as \nchairman of the defeated committee on the warrant, \nand who a year later became the first mayor of the \ncity, — meeting Mr. Porter as they together left the \nhall, Mr. Adams sadly remarked that his work in \nconnection with town affairs was ended. Quincy was \nmerely repeating the experience of Boston seventy \nyears before, an experience which many other places \nhad gone through since, and which many more are \ndestined to go through hereafter. The old order of \nthings had come to a close. Nevertheless, the imme- \ndiate process through which it came to its close was \nnot without interest, nor, as a lesson, without its use. \n\nAlready, at a public meeting of the citizens of \n\nQuincy held as long before as the 14th of December, \n\n1885, the question of a city charter had been discussed, \n\nand the ancient traditions seemed as^ain to assert them- \n\n1 Supra, 959. \n\n\n1885-8. ORGANIC LAW AGAIN. 997 \n\nselves ; for the movement now went on in the same \nformal and methodic manner which had more than a \ncentury back characterized the similar action when \nthe constitution of 1780 was submitted for approval.^ \nOnce more it was a question of organic law. A \nstrong party still adhered to the ancient ways and the \ntown-meeting form of government ; but those com- \nposing it were forced to admit that things could no \nlonger go on as they were then going, and the only \nalternative to a city government was a division of \nthe town. The argument against a division of the \ntown was not easy to meet ; for such a division failed \nto remove the difficulties of the situation. Those dif- \nficulties arose even more from the increased require- \nments, than from the mere numerical growth, of the \npopulation. Police and water supply and drainage \nwere territorial questions ; and they involved also \nfinancial methods and a systematic administration of \nlarge affairs and complicated details inconsistent with \nthe simplicity of town-meeting government. A divi- \nsion of the town, therefore, would prove a mere tem- \nporary alleviation ; if, indeed, it would even be that. \n\nAfter long and earnest debate a committee of fif- \nteen was appointed to whom was entrusted the diffi- \ncult task of framing a charter which should meet the \nobjections of those opposed to a city form of govern- \nment and afford some adequate protection against the \nacknowledged dangers incident thereto, as seen in the \nexperience of other places ; for, throughout the debate, \nit had been argued that this could be done. The com- \nmittee of fifteen put the details of the work committed \nto it in the hands of a sub-committee consisting of \nMessrs. Josiah Quincy, the sixth of the name, and \n1 Supra, 890. \n\n\n998 ^'THE KING IS DEAD!'' Jan. \n\nSigourney Butler, both young lawyers ; and for over \na year the matter was under the careful advisement \nof these two. In January, 1887, two months before \nthe fateful ann,ual meeting of that year took place, \nanother meeting of citizens had been called to which \nthe committee of fifteen presented a report. Sub- \nsequently, after lengthy discussions at various meet- \nings, the form of charter recommended was in the \nmain adopted, and the committee instructed to submit \nit to the legislature. \n\nAt the time, this charter was regarded with no in- \nconsiderable degree of curiosity, and its subsequent \nworking has been watched with interest. As the first \nmayor elected under its provisions stated in his in- \naugural address, no New England city then had, nor \nhas any since received, a similar charter. It consti- \ntuted, in fact, as it was intended it should, an attempt \nat a new departure in the matter of municipal govern- \nment. As such the principles upon which it was \nframed are worthy of consideration. \n\nFollowing the analogy of the constitution of the \nState and of the United States, the Massachusetts \nmunicipalities have always been organized with exec- \nutive, legislative and judicial departments : but the \nfact has more and more been lost sight of that muni- \ncipal governments are business rather than political \norganizations. It is no part of the proper function of \nthose handling municij^al affairs to consider philosoph- \nical principles of state-craft. They are, on the con- \ntrary, persons selected by the constituencies to do the \nwork entrusted to them, because the constituent \nmasses have grown so large that they can no longer \nmeet in one body to do that work themselves. The \nfunction of the municipal officers is, therefore, to ad- \n\n\n1887. CITY CHARTERS. 999 \n\nminister the affairs of a local community in an intelli- \ngent and business-like way. Nevertheless, in Massa- \nchusetts the municipal governments have always been \ntraditionally framed with the cumbrous machinery of \nthe larger political bodies. They have, as matter of \ncourse, had their Boards of Aldermen, representing \nthe Senate, and their Common Councils, representing \nthe more popular branch of the Legislature. Yet in \nthe election of these two bodies to manage the cur- \nrent affairs of a business corporation, the existence of a \ndivided interest in the community has never been rec- \nognized ; any more than the fact that the essential \nfeature of a correct municipal administration is the \neconomical expenditure of the money collected from \nthe tax-payers. As no political rights are involved, \nthose being sufficiently provided for in the constitu- \ntion and laws of the State, one of the two municipal \nlegislative bodies should, on any correct theory, repre- \nsent property as distinguished from individuals, — - \ntax-payers as distinguished from the beneficiaries of \nthe money raised by taxation. But, owing to the \nfact that political principles are allowed to dominate \nin making provision for the conduct of corporate busi- \nness, this distinction has never been made. Again, \nthe functions of the several departments of the or- \ndinary city government have, in the course of time, \nbecome irretrievably confused. Responsibility has \nceased to exist ; for the legislative has by degrees \nencroached on the executive until, in the greater num- \nber of cities, the mayor is reduced to a mere cipher, \nwhile certain irresponsible combinations in the legis- \nlative chambers and the city-hall, generally known \nas \" rings,\" really control the administration of affairs. \nAlmost of necessity, the executive functions have more \n\n\n1000 4 ; geneal- \nogy, 714 ; reflections concerning his \nfather, 716; his wife, granddaughter \nof John Quincy, 711. \n\n1758, entertained by Gridley and Pratt \non admission to the bar, 788 ; \n\n1759, opinion of Rev. A. Wibird, 642 ; a \nvisitor at Josiah Quincy's house, \nBraintree, 703 ; habits of fellow visit- \nors, ib. ; \n\n1761, efforts in cause of temperance, \n789-90 ; chosen Surveyor of High- \nways, Braintree, 675, 824, 838; his \n\n\n1762, provides for sale of Braintree \ncommons, 664-5 ; \n\n\n1012 \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\n17r)5, causes protest against Stamp Act \nat Braiutree, 83S ; prepares iiihtruc- \ntions to town representative at Gen- \neral Court, 839 ; Stamp Act favored by \nBraintree Episcopalians, 032, 840 ; in \nsupport of memorial for oi)ening law \ncourts, 839 ; opposed to election of \npro-stamjvact men, 840; 841-2; visit \nto John Quincy, Christmas, 708, 840 ; \n\nITtJO, drive to Salem, G77, again in 177(;, \nG78; defeated at election, 743, 74G ; \naccount of election, 843 ; relations \nwith Major Miller, 844 ; planting of \nliberty tree, 844, 845 ; repeal of Stamp \nAct, ib. ; \n\n1767, elected Selectman, 84G ; \n\n1768, established in practice of law at \nBoston, 846 ; excused from town ser- \nvice, ib. ; thanks voted him, ib. ; \n\n1771, accoimt of Judge Gushing riding \nthe circuit, 078 ; \n\n1774, defence of Captain Preston, 704 ; \ndelegate to Continental Congress, 850 ; \nhis family return to Braintree, ib. ; \n\n1775, drafts anti-slave trade covenant, \n855 ; desires to be a soldier, 858 ; at \nBraintree during epidemic, 863 ; on \nprayers for king, 852; rumored de- \nparture for England, 865; on coast- \ndefences in Congress, 867 ; fortifica- \ntions for Boston harbor, ib. ; estimate \nof bis property, 872 ; \n\n1778, embarks in Quincy Bay for voyage \nto France, 886, 951 ; \n\n1779, returns from France, 887 ; Brain- \ntree's delegate to Constitution Con- \nvention, 887 ; of committee to draft \nConstitution, ib.., 889; returns to Eu- \nrope, 887 ; \n\n1781, at the Hague, 879 ; \n\n1787, Vassall house bought by, 681 ; his \ndeath there, ib. ; \n\n1788, returns from London mission, \n888, 898 ; remarks prosperity of Brain- \ntree, 695, 898 ; \n\n1792, his property at Quincy, 691-2 ; \n\n1795, establishes Quincy post-ofBce, 803, \n812-14 ; supports Madison's adminis- \ntration, 909; rebukes \"Tom \"Green- \nleaf, ib. ; \n\n1822, gift of quarry for granite to build \nmeeting-house, 918-19 ; gift of his li- \nbrary to Quincy, 804, 919, 941 ; Acad- \nemy founded by, 941 ; \n\n1826, death. 681, 920; calls Lemuel \nBriant, a Unitarian, 643^; a cider- \ndrinker, 686-7 ; pride of descent from \nNew England farmers, 711-12 ; on job- \nbery in care of Braintree poor, 729 ; \nhis receipt for making a New England \nin Virginia, 732, 764, 783 ; \" a church- \ngoing animal,\" 732, 751 ; recollections \nof boyhood in meeting-house, 737 ; \ndetestation of taverns, 783, 788; his \naccount of political discussion at \nShrewsbury tavern, 1774, 783-4 ; be- \nlief in American independence gained \nfrom talk in taverns. 785 ; his drunk- \n\n\nen farm-hand, 786 ; his Sunday read- \ning in youth, 805 ; last years of his life \nat Quincy, 805-7 ; dislike of winter, \n682, 805-0 ; habits of life, 806 ; his one \no'clock dinner, ib. ; subjects of talk \nwith a young lady, 806 ; his bust in \nUniversalist meeting-house, 930 ; in- \nf requency of Roman Catholics in New \nEngland, 931 ; Quincy's coutributioa \nto national defence in Revolution, 9(51 ; \n975, 978, 979. \nAdams, John Quincy [1st], b. 1767, d. \n1848, descendant of Joanna Hoar, 705 ; \nnamed for his great-grandfather, 711 ; \n\n1774, without .school at Braintree, \n856 ; becomes post-rider, ib. ; reminis- \ncences of events, Penn's Hill, May 21, \n\n1775, 857-8 ; with mother, watches \nsigns of Bunker's Hill battle, 858 ; his \nrecollections of, 859 ; goes with his fa- \nther to Europe, 1778, 886-7, 951 ; in \nconveyance of title of graveyard to \nQuincy, 1809, 906; U. S. Minister to \nRussia, 1809, 909 ; Secretary of State, \n1822, 919 ; Quincy's vote for presiden- \ntial electors of 1824, 916 ; 1826, on his \nfather's death, vLsits Quincy, 920-1 ; \nimproved conditions of town, 695; \nSunday service at old meeting-hou.se, \n921 ; Quincy's vote, presidential elec- \ntion 1828, 916, 949; elected to Con- \ngress, 1830, 946 ; on democratic stone- \ncutters, 1837, 995 ; address at temper- \nance convention, Quincy, 1840, 975, \n976; death, 1848, 926, 955; his rela- \ntions to Quincy, 951 ; Quincy's sup- \nport of, 952-3 ; his career in Congress, \nib., 956. \n\nAdams, John Quincy [2d], moderator, \nQuincy town-meetings, 973 ; his re- \nforms in, iJ). ; moderator, 1887, Quin- \ncy town-meeting, 989 ; termination of \nhis service as moderator, 096. \n\nAdams, Joseph, marries, 1688, Hannah \nBass, 714 ; grandparents of President \nJohn, ib. \n\nAdams, Peter, 835. \n\nAdams, Peter Boylston, brother of John, \nin 1766 Braintree election, 843; chair- \nman of Braintree state Constitution \ncommittee, 1780, 890. \n\nAdams, Samuel, on committee to draft \nConstitution for Mass. , 1779, 889. \n\nAdams, , Braintree, schoolmaster, \n\n1710, 823. \n\nAddison, Joseph, 772. \n\nAfrican slaveiy, 9.55. \n\nAgamenticus, now York, Maine, 1640, \nThomas Gorges at, 310-11 ; his seat of \ngovernment, 311 ; names it Gorgeana, \nib.; 1643, abandons it, 312; 1634, \nBlackstone called to church at, 323 ; \ndeclines, 324 ; Maverick proprietor of \nland at, 330 ; Gorges charter of 1641, \nattested by Morton, 343 ; Morton at, \n350. \n\nAgricola, John, his adherents called An- \ntinomians by Luther, 432. \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\n1013 \n\n\nAlaska, 274. \n\nAlcock, George, deacon of Dorchester \nchurch, death, 1630, 237. \n\nAldeu, John, aud wife Priscilla [Mul- \nlius], of Plymouth, Mayflower euii- \ngraut, parents of Ruth, wife of John \nBass, 714. \n\nAldeu, Ruth, daugliter of John and Pris- \ncilla, marries, 1G;\"j7, John Bass, 714 \n\nAlderman, , of Bear Cove, lost in \n\nwilderness, 1034. 338, 304, 582. \n\nAldertou, Point, see Allerton. \n\nAlewives, fish in Monatiquot River, \n1730, cause of contention at Braintree, \n831-4. \n\nAlexander, Sir William, his map of New \nEngland, 139, 210. \n\nAlford, England, home of William \nHutchinson, 308, 393, 539. \n\nAlgonquin tribe destroyed by pestilence, \n1010-17, 4. \n\nAlien law, passed by General Court, \n1G37, its object, 458, 401 ; bitter con- \ntroversy over, at Boston, 463 ; unhappy \neffects of execution of, 403^-4, 648. \n\nAliens in Quincy, 940, et seq. \n\n\" Aligarto,\" alligator, 357. \n\nAllen, , 678. \n\nAllen, Ethan, 704. \n\nAllen, John, minister at Dedham, 1640, \n595. \n\nAllen, Jonathan, of Braintree, 834. \n\nAUerton, Isaac, deputy-governor of Plym- \nouth, his name given to point m Bos- \nton Bay, 20; 1023, of Committee on \nIndian conspiracy, 75 ; 1629, agent at \nLondon to obtain patent for Kenne- \nbec and charter for Plymouth , 223 ; \nletter to Bradford, ib., aided by Gor- \nges, 224 ; brings Morton back to Plym- \nouth, 224 ; again in England, ib. ; \nconcerning court influence, 274 ; aids \nTompson and Knowles at New York, \n598. \n\nAllerton, Point, Boston Bay, 14, no^e; \norigin of name, 20 ; fortification pro- \nposed, 1770, 807. 911. \n\nAlligator, brought by Gibbons from \nWest Indies, 357. \n\nAlmshouse built at Braintree Middle \nPrecinct, 1780, 728 ; at Braintree, 900 ; \n1785 ; at Quincy in 1815, 905. \n\nAmerican Jezebel, Mrs. Hutchinson, so \ncalled by clergy, 437, 538, 573. \n\nAmerica, land grants in, seventeenth \ncentury, 651. \n\nAmes, , account of a husking, 1707, \n\n791. \n\nAmherst, General Jeffrey, capture of \nTiconderoga, 1759, 837. \n\nAnabaptists, of Munster, 248, note; a \nterm of reproach in time of Luther, \n432, 505, 507, 5(38. \n\nAndr*^, John, execution of, 1780, 891. \n\nAndrew, John A., election of 1802, 959. \n\nAndroscogein, Thomas Purchase a set- \ntler at, 258. \n\nAndros, Edmund, Governor, imprisoned, \n\n\n701 ; liis overthrow in New England, \n1089, 818. \nAnn, Cape, touched by the ship Sparrow, \n\n1022, 52. \nAnti-masonic political party, 952. \nI Antinomian, origin and definition of \n! term, 432-4 ; name improperly applied \nto Anne Hutchinson and party, 435; \neradication of heresies of, object of \n1037 synod, 470 ; an extension of Cal- \nvinistic tenet of predestination, 457 ; \nliesitation of General Court to con- \nsider, 474 ; the party in majority at \nBoston, 1037, 571 ; fate of party, after \nexile of Mrs. Hutchinson, &40-58, 559. \n\nControversy, 303 ; its significance, \n\n307 y a political as well as religious is- \nsue, 43o ; comparison of position of \nVane and Winthrop in, 405 ; Cotton \nMather's view of, 493 ; historical as- \npect of, 559-78 ; Flynt an adherent of \nWheelwright in, 603, 648, 700. See \nHutchinson, Anne, Wheelwright. \nAnti-slavery question, 955, 956. \nApplegate, Elizabeth, punished for \nswearing, 672. \nI Applegate, Thomas, his ferry across \nI Monatiquot, 1635, 672 ; accidentally \nI drowns nine persons, 973 ; prosecuted \nbut discharged, ib. \nApthorp family, slaves owned by, 923 ; \nI of Braintree Episcopal church, 032. \nAquidneck island, now Newport, Wm. \nHutchinson's residence after 1638, 536, \n537 ; Mrs. Hutchinson removes from, \nI 537, 597. \nArbella, Lady, wife of Isaac Johnson, \n\n234. \nArchitecture, at Braintree, 080^. \nAriosto, 390. \n\nArmeuianism, Briant of Braintree ac- \ncused of, 638, 639. \nI Arms confiscated at Boston, 1637, 511-12. \nI Armstrong, Archie, jester to Charles I., \n\n300. \nj Army of Revolution, Braintree's contri- \n1 butions to, 870-8, 884-6 ; value of ser- \n( vice of men enlisted for long terms, \n! 847. \nArnold, Benedict, treason of, 1780, 891, \n\n892. \nArticles of Confederation of United \nI States, 1778, 889-90. \n\nAnmdel, Thomas, 1st baron, of the 1620 \n\nI Plymouth Company, 122 ; hia charac- \n\ni ter and influence at court, 124 ; at \n\n[ meetings of Council for New England, \n\n131 ; his share of territory in New \n\n' England drawn at Greenwich, 1623, \n\n139. \n\nAsa, Salem and Uzzia, cited by Winthrop \n\nin liis justification, 512. \nAspinwall, William, elected to General \nCourt, 1037, 475 ; expelled for adher- \ning to Wheelwright, 479 ; replaced by \nJohn Oliver, 480. \nAshton, England, Sir F. Gorges' countrj \nseat, 313 ; see Long Ashton. \n\n\n1014 \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\nAspinet, Indian, restores John Billing- \nton, 32. \n\nAssacomet, captured by Hunt, 24, note. \n\nAssistants of Mass. Biy, Court of, see \nCourt of Assistants. \n\nAstor, John Jacob, 19G. \n\nAthenaeum library, Boston, in 1830, 804. \n\nAthens, Greece, %7, 989. \n\nAttleborougli, R. I., William Black- \nstone's son driven from, 327. \n\nAuchinleck, James Boswell, Laird of, \nremark to Samuel Johnson, 126. \n\nAugusta, Maine, 54. \n\nAuluay, La Tour d', see La Tour. \n\nBacon, Sir Francis, of the Crown coun- \nsel, trial of Essex, 113 ; ingratitude to \nEssex, 114 ; 1021, impeached by Par- \nliment, 120, 390. \n\nBadlam, Colonsl, commands mUitia, \nShays' rebellion, 898. \n\nBagnall, Walter, 1G25, at Mount Wollas- \nton, 343; mentioned by Morton, 3.51 ; \nat Richmond Island, 3.51 , 352 ; trades \nwith Indians, ib. ; 1031, murdered, \n200, 352, 3.53, 354. \n\nBainbridge, William, Commodore U. S. \nN., 912. \n\nBalch, John, of Salem, 201. ! \n\nBaldwin family, descended from Joanna \nHoar, 705. j \n\nBallou, \" Father \" Hosea, 944. 1 \n\nBalston, William, refractory BDston ser- \ngeant, 508. I \n\nBaltic, folk-moots of villages on the, 980. \n\nBaltimore, Maryland, 920. \n\nBancroft, George, 890; as democratic \ncandidate for governor, 1844, 953. \n\nBancroft, Richard, Archbishop of Can- \nterbury, 142. \n\nBanks of Newfoundland, Weston's fish- \ning and trading ventures to, 4.5. \n\nBanks, Sir John, Att}'. General, files quo \nwarranto against Mass. Bay Co., 291, I \n290, 301. ! \n\nBarbadoes, Rev. Thomas Eager removes j \nto, 025. 1 \n\nBarclay, George, with Charno'ik, plots \nassassination of WUliam III., 1090, ' \n625. I \n\nBarclay, WUliam, Church of England \nminister at Braintree, 1702, 022, 62.3. \n\nBarnburners, political party, 1848, 955. \n\nBarnstable, Mass., 31, 04. \n\nBartholomew, William, in discu.ssion \nover Anne Hutchinson's .speech, 50.5. \n\nBartlett, Tliomas, ordered by General \nCourt to be whipped, 337. \n\nBasing House, Hugh Peters at capture \nof, 375. \n\nBass, David, pew in Braintree meeting- \nhouse, 1725, 730. \n\nBass, Hannah, daugliter of John and \nRuth [Alden] Bass, marries, 1088, Jo- \nsepji Adams of Braintree, 714. \n\nBass, Hezekiah, bass-viol player, Quincy \nmeeting-house, 741, 907. \n\n\nBass, John, Vestryman, Christ Church, \nBraintree, 622. \n\nBa.ss, John, sou of Samuel, 1057, marries \nRuth Alden, 714 ; his daugliter Han- \nnah marries, 1()88, Joseph Adams, ib. \n\nBass, Jonathan, leader of Church-party, \nBraintree election, 1706, 843 ; his ab- \nsence at tavern from town-meeting \nloses his candidate, 743, 844, 850. \n\nBass, Josiah, a privateer, in Plymouth \njail, 1781, 879. \n\nBass, Josiah, leader of Braintree choir, \n1812, 741. \n\nBass, Samuel, b. 1001, d. 1094, typical of \nfarmer class in New England, 713, 716 ; \ncomes from England, 1032, 714; set- \ntles first at Roxbury, ib. ; removes, \n1040, to Bramtree, services in church \nand colony, ib., 757, 835; his off- \nspring, 609; appointed to fix site of \nbridge across Neponset, 1055, 071, 954. \n\nBass, Samuel, of Committee for sale of \nBraintree commons, 005. \n\nBass, Samuel, Jr., of Braintree, 835. \n\nBass, Thomas, bell-ringer, Braintree, \n820, 823. \n\nBass-viol in Braintree choir, 741 ; Quincy \nmeeting-house, 1804, 900-7. \n\nB itli. Earl of, of the Plymouth Com- \npany, 122. \n\nBatli-rooms, unknown in Quincy prior \nto 1830, 807. \n\nBvxter, James P., cited concerning exe- \ncution of regicides, 376, note. \n\nBaxter, Joseph, affair with bounty-jum- \nper, 1781, 876. \n\nBixter, Ricliarl, his Nature of the Hu- \nman Soul, John Adams' Sunday read- \ning, 805. \n\nBiyley, John, of Roxbury, 726. \n\nBeacon Hill, Boston, called Sentry Hill \nprior to April, 1035, 288, 322 ; .signals \non, for revolt of 1089 against Andros, \n818. \n\nBeal, Caleb, overseer of boys, Hingham \nmeeting-house, 738, note. \n\nBaal?, Banjamin, of anti-privateer com- \nmittee, Quincy, 1793, 906. \n\nBsar Cove, former name of Hingham, \n338 ; residence of Alderman, 364. \n\nBears in Braintree woods, 1099, 924. \n\nBeauchamp, John, with Weston sends \nout sliip Sparrow to coast of Maine, \n1022, 51. \n\nBeaver skins, Plymouth colonists learn \nof, 35 ; currency in Massachusetts, 219. \n\nBeer, commonly drunk in colonial times, \n785. \n\nBelcher. John, Braintree supports widow \nof, 724, 819. \n\nBelcher, Jonathan, Governor, 016. \n\nBelcher, Joseph, 1077, disciplined by \nBraintree church, 750-7. \n\nBelcher, Moses, of Braintree, 825. \n\nBell, Charles H., his work on Wheel- \nwright cited, 435, note. \n\nBelliugham, Richard, 377. \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\n1015 \n\n\nBellomont, Earl of, reception at Boston, \n1699, as Governor of Mass. Bay, 718- \n19; his death, 1701, 719. \n\nBell-ringing, Quincy, 906-7. \n\nBeniis, Josiah, one of three who first \nsplit granite with iron wedges, 925. \n\nBenton, Thomas H., 66'2. \n\nBernard, Sir Francis, Governor Mass. \nBay, 708 ; refuses information on pro- \nject of quartering British troops at \nBoston, 847. \n\nBeverages in colonial New England, 785, \net seq. \n\nBible, source of New England law, 348, \n382 ei seq. ; Puritan interpretation of, \n383-7 ; in every colonial house, 805. \n\nBig Bethel, Va., fight at, 1861, 962. \n\nBillington, John, boy stolen by Indians, \n31 ; his surrender, 32. \n\nBillington, John, the first hanged in \nMassachusetts, 187. \n\nBilsby, England, Wheelwright's first \nparish, 309, 459, 482, 565. \n\nBishop, George, cited, as to persecution \nof Quakers at Boston, 1659, 408-10, \nnote. \n\nBismarck, Strafford compared with, 273. \n\nBlack, Moses, one of Quincy's anti- \nprivateer committee, 1793, 906. \n\nBlackstoue, William, Church of England \nclergyman, in New England, 142, 143 ; \nhis lost records of Robert Gorges, ex- \npedition, 1623, 143-4, note ; removal \nfrom Wessagusset, 190, 198, 233 ; 1625, \nestablishes himself at Shawmut, 160-1, \n167 ; sole occupant of site of Bo-ston, \n1630, 238; his hut on Sentry Hill, \n322; a Church of England man, 171, \nnote ; assessed for expenses of arrest \nof Morton, ib. ; leads Winthrop to site \nBoston, 238, 252 ; in 1634, 269 ; friend- \nly relations with Winthrop, 322 ; al- \nlotted fifty acres in Boston, ih. ; new \nneighbors uncongenial, sells his land, \n323; removes to Narragansett Bay, \n324 ; revisits Boston, ib. ; his mar- \nriage, 324-5 ; his death, 325 ; his char- \nacter and life, 325-8 ; destruction of \nhis manuscripts and books, 326 ; rela- \ntions with thp Indians, 327 : children, \n327, 340, 342 ; Lechmere's remark con- \ncerning, 366, note ; not submissive \nto church authority of Boston, 382, \n454. \n\nBlackstone, John, son of William, \nwarned to leave Attleborough, 327. \n\nBlack-strap, a drink of New England \nfarm-hands, 790. \n\nBlack William, Indian, sells Nahant to \nT. Dexter, 260 ; hanged for murder of \nBagnall, 260, 353. \nBliss, Win. R., cited as to dog-whipperin \n\ncolonial meeting-house, 745, note. \nBlock Island, 460. \n\nBlue Hills, Mass., seen by Standish, \n1621, 19, 363, 582; granite formation \nof, 928. \n\n\nBlue Laws of Connecticut, 83. \n\nBlunt, Sir Christopher, trial of, 109, \nnote. \n\nBoccaccio, on the Florence plague, 2; \n35 ; liighways, 600-79 ; \ntown roads and liighways, developed, \n674-9 ; militia, not an etfective force, \n7C5 ; its condition subsequent to 1780, \n891 et seq. ; subsequent to 1785, 899 ; \ntaxes in, ib. ; pauper question, 900 ; \nalmshouse built, 1785, ih., 1815, 905 ; \nreorganization of schools, 900-2 ; town \ndivision question agitated, 1790, 902 ; \n1639-1830, population and wealth, 089- \n98 ; support of paupers, 723-4 ; treat- \nment of insane, ih.; no almshouse till \n1786, 728 ; vicious, poor and insane, \n722-31 ; office of constable avoided, \n824-5 ; difficulties of tax collecting, \n823; 882; office of coUector avoided, \n824 ; intemperance in, 787, 975 ; tav- \nerns pictured, 792 ; frequenters of, i6., \n793 ; indications of high state of mo- \nrality in, 790; quiet of, in last centu- \nry, 803 ; people little accustomed to \nreading, 805; industries of, prior to \n1825, 923 et seq. ; iron-works, Scotch \nworkmen at, 922 ; fate of enterprise, \n923 ; ship-building a thriving business \nat, 924 ; granite quarries, develop- \nment, 924-8 ; slaves owned at, 923 ; \ncustomary names of, ib. ; mentions in \ntown records of, ib. ; dwellings and \nmodes of life, 17th century, 680-4; \nsocial life, 699-721 ; nationality of \ncolonial settlers in, 922 ; birthplace of \nJohn Adams and John Hancock, 017 ; \nJohn Adams, Braiutree's contribution \nto Revolution, 901 ; sends Samuel \nBass a delegate twelve times to Gen- \neral Court, 1641-04, 714; John Mar- \nshall, a treasurer of, 710, 717 : its rec- \nords of Edmund Quincy and William \nCoddington, 540 ; Josiah Quincy's life \nat, 703 ; Rev. John Wilson, first land- \nowner of territory, 583; Middle Pre- \ncinct church, dissensions over psalm- \nsinging, 740 ; Middle Precinct church \na powder magazine, 743. See Mount \nWoUaston, Passonagessit and Quincy. \n\n, burying ground, contains graves \n\nof William Tompson, 002; of Joanna \nHoar, President and Bridget Hoar, \n704 ; its condition prior to 1809, 905 ; \ntitle to conveyed to town of Quincy, \n906. \n\n, church, establishment of, 1039, \n\n580 ; ordination of William Tompson, \n595 ; ministers of, 1039-59, William \nTompson, 595-002; 10.59-08, Henry \nFlynt, 002^ ; 1072-1708, Moses Fiske, \n608-15; 1709-20, 617; North Pre- \ncinct, ministers of, 1709-26, Joseph \nMarsh, 616-17; 1726-44, John Han- \ncock, 618-35 ; 1745-53, Lemuel Briant„ \n635-11 ; First church of, 570 ; its his- \ntory, .590-645 ; trouble in filling Henry \nFlynt's i)lace, 000-7 ; Moses Fiske \nmade minister, 1672, 607 ; struggle \nover project of a new meeting-house, \n\n\n1695, 611-12; division of parish, 612- \n14 ; 616 ; 1095, struggle for division \nof, begun, 611 ; dispute carried to \nGeneral Court. 613; separation ac- \ncomplished, 1708, 616 ; 1706, South \nPrecinct meeting-house raised, 612 ; \n1707, Hugh Adams ordained minister, \n613 ; First or North Precinct, minis- \nters of, 1755-92, Anthony Wibird, \n641-2 ; becomes church of town of \nQuincy, 642 ; silver communion cup, \ngiven by Samuel Bass, 714 ; choir sing- \ning in, 741 ; hymns authorized to be \nsung in, ib. ; musical instruments in, \nib. ; requirement of relation of \" expe- \nrience,\" 753 ; attempt to dispense with, \n753-4 ; definite organization of, 747 ; \nits relation to political organization, \nprior to 1793, ih. : a paramount influ- \nence, prior to 1093, 747 ; practical sep- \naration from political organization, \n1093-1792, ib.; a reunion, 1792-1824, \n748 ; again separated under new state \nconstitution, ib. ; discipline of faulty \nmembers, 754; confessions required \nfrom, ib. : cases of, 754-61 ; discon- \ntinued, 702-3 ; records of discipline, \n796. \n\n, meeting-house, the first, 417, \n\n591, 594; its meeting-houses, 593-96; \n1726, bad condition of, 619 ; aban- \ndoned, 020 ; new one dedicated, 1732, \n019 ; no pews in, 734 ; men and women \nseated separately, ib. ; change of this \nsystem, ib. ; privilege given to con- \nstruct pews, 1698, 735 ; consequence \nof, 735-7 ; galleries appropriated to \nboys, 736 ; privileges in, determined \nby money, 737 ; that erected, 1732, \npews in, 737; psalmody in, 739; \nMajor Quincy, 1723, Psalm-tuner, 739 ; \nnot kept in repair, 742 ; its secu- \nlar uses. ib. : dogs forbidden admit- \ntance, 1729, 744 ; space allotted to ne- \ngroes, 923 ; renews covenant, 1739, \n620 ; charges for support of church, \n646 ; Samuel Bass, first deacon of, 713 ; \nJohn Adams [1st], deacon of, 714, \n715 ; records, 750 ; discontinued, 1741, \na social centre, ib. \n\n, Christ Episcopal church of, be- \nginnings, 621 ; first edifice, 1728, 621 ; \naided by English society, 622 ; its his- \ntory, 1089-1 802, 021-35; members taxed \nfor support of town's minister, 623-7, \n629-30; prayers for king, 1770, 852; \nclosed, 1777, 853; population, 1047, \n700 ; 1799, 767 ; 1699, 768, note ; 1890, \nib. \n\n, schools, provision for, 723, \n\n724 ; 705 ; free Latin school estab- \nlished, 1645, ib. : one of 1635, 766 ; \n1719. noted for, ib. ; support of, 767-8 ; \nfirst school-house, 769 ; 774 ; charges \nfor tuition, 709-70 ; provision for poor \nchildren, 770 ; fire-wood for school- \nmaster, 709-70 ; B. Tompson, master, \n\n\n1020 \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\n1G78-1704, 7G9-72; development of, \n774 et seq. ; 1715, two new school- \nhouses voted, 774 ; text-books, 778-80 ; \nmstruction, 780 ; punishment, ib. ; \nresults, ib. : contrast of old and new, \n782 ; dismisses sclioolmaster, 1775, \n855 ; without granmuir soliool, 85G. \n\nBraintree, town-meetinjj at, 812 ; sys- \ntem inherited from Boston, 814 ; a \nslow development, 810 ; after 1073, \nbiennial, ib. : officers chosen by, 1093, \n819 ; those of 1094, ib. ; other busi- \nness transacted, 819-20 ; compensa- \ntion for services of officers, 820 ; its \nusual business, ib. ; occasional con- \nflicts in, 821 ; story of, 1710-11, 822-3 ; \nMarch, 1700, election of officers, di- \nvision on Stamp Act, 843-4 ; considers \npetition to General Court for creation \nof a new town, 1791, 902. \n\nBrattle, Thomas, Daniel Quincy married \nat his house, 1082, 700. \n\nBrattle, Mrs., her death, 706. \n\nBrereton, Sir William, grant of land in \nNew England to, 212. \n\nBrewster, William, 20. \n\nBrewsters, islands Boston Bay, origin of \nname, 20. \n\nBriant, Lemuel, succeeds Hancock, as \nminister of Braintree church, 1745, \n635 ; support of, 035-0 ; sermon on \nmoral virtue, 037 ; accused of Armin- \nianism, 038 ; 039 ; his treatment of ad- \nversaries, ib. ; his church divided, 040 ; \nasks dismissal from pastorate, 1753, \n641 ; death, 041 ; his liberal theologi- \ncal views, 043 ; considered a Unitarian \nby John Adams, 043-4 ; 920 ; 944. \n\nBridges, 1044, over Monatiquot, 673 ; \n1054, over Neponset, ib. \n\nBridgewater, Mass., 255; Mr. Gary of , \n857 ; 858 ; 829 ; frontier post estab- \nlished on road from Braintree to, 829. \n\nBrierly, , conies with colonists from \n\nEngland, 459, 584 ; refused residence \nin Mass. Bay, 584-5. \n\nBrigden, Thomas, Charlestown bell- \nringer and dog-whipper, 745, note. \n\nBriggs, George N., Governor of Mass., \n953. \n\nBrlght's disease, frequent in colonial \ntimes, 800-1 ; called dropsy, 801. \n\nBrimsmead, Rev. William, of Marlbor- \nough, death of, 719. \n\nBritish soldiers, scheme for quartering, \nat Boston, 1708, 847 ; foraging parties, \nBoston Bay, 1775, 850-7 ; evacuation \nof Boston, 1770, 804, 800 ; troop-ships, \nin Boston Bay after evacuation, March, \n177G, 807 ; proceed to Halifax, 808 ; \ncapture Charleston, May, 17S0, 891. \n\nBristol, England, Thomas Weston dies \nat, 1045, 154; captured by Prince Ru- \npert, 313 ; royalist attack, 1043, ib. ; \nretaken by Fairfax, 314. \n\nBroadway, New York, Maverick's house \nin 365. \n\n\nBrockton, Mass., shoemaking centre, \n930. \n\nBrooke, Lord, a proprietor in Connecti- \ncut, 374. \n\nBrowuists, religious party, 248, note. \n\nBrunswick, Maine, 258. \n\nBryant, Gridley, constructor of Quincy \ngranite railway, 920 ; 982. \n\nBryce, James, cited, 1001, 1004. \n\nBucaneering in the West Indies, 358. \n\nBuckingham, George Villiers, first Duke \nof, emulates the popularity of Essex, \n115 ; ot the Plymouth Company under \ncharter of 1020, 122 ; influence with \nthe King for the Plymouth Company, \n124 ; sustains the 1020 charter, 125 ; \nhis share of New England, drawn at \nGreenwich, 1023, 139; 273; 275; his \ninfluence for Gorges at court 1622, \n275; 317. \n\nBuckle, , at church trial of Anne \n\nHutchinson, 522, note. \n\nBuffalo, New York, Free Soil party con- \nvention, 1848, 955. \n\nBulkley, Peter, 470. \n\nBullard, Samuel, 726. \n\nBunhill Fields, London cemetery, Ed- \nmund Quincy 4th, buried in, 1738, \n702. \n\nBunker's Hill, battle, June 17, 1775, \n642 ; character of fighters at, 765 ; \nsigns of, seen by Mrs. Adams from \nPenn's Hill, 858-9 ; 919. \n\nBunker's Hill Monument, built of Quincy \ngranite, 924 ; 927. \n\nBunyan, John, 702. \n\nBurdet, Rev. George, in control of \nMaine province, 1040, 310 ; his char- \nacter, ib. ; Thomas Gorges' difficulties \nwith, 312 ; association with Underbill, \n554-0. \n\nBurgoyne, General John, 874. \n\nBurial ground, Quincy, condition prior \nto 1809, 905-0 ; title conveyed to the \ntown, 900. \n\nBurke, Edmund, 662 : 805 ; 809. \n\nBurnet, Gilbert, description of Hugh \nPeters, 375. \n\nBurnet, William, Governor of Massachu- \nsetts Bay, 616. \n\nBurrell, , 905. \n\nBursley, John, remains at Wessagusset \nafter 1624, 161 ; a leading man of Wes- \nsagusset, 338 ; 342. \n\nBurton, Henry, punished by Star Cham- \nber, 248, note. \n\nButler, Samuel, Wessagusset hanging in \nHudibras, 81-2. \n\nButler, Sigourney, one of authors of \nQuincy city charter of 1888, 998. \n\nBuzzard's Bay, drawn by Dr. Gooch, at \nGreenwich, 1623, 139 ; 209. \n\nCalifornia, migration from New Eng- \nland to, 793. \n\nCalvin, his writings favorite reading in \nearly New England, 391 ; his system, \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\n1021 \n\n\n434 ; predestination tenet accepted by ) \nVane and Cotton, 457. I \n\nCalvinism, absence of, at Quincy, 944. \n\nCambridge, Mass., Wiuthmp removes \nhis house from, 1G30, 23'J ; Dudley's \nproperty at, 3G5 ; described by hiui, \nH>31, 484 ; seat of government re- ! \nmoved to, 11137, 448, 483 ; difficult of i \naccess from Boston, 4a3-4 ; 1(.)37, an- ] \nnual charter election. May, 1(337, at, \n452-5, Wd ; Synod of 1637 at, 470-4 ; \naction in Antinomian controversy, , \n571 ; 1G37, practically remote from j \nBoston, 483; 484; character of settle- | \nment, 1G37, 483 ; 484 ; church at, 484 ; 1 \nSynod of 1048, snake episode, 500; \n1729, regulation forbidding dogs in \nmeeting-house, 745, note ; 1755, pro- \nvincial army at, 765 ; 1774, meeting at, \nafter removal of powder from Charles- \ntown, 850 ; 1775, Provincial Congress, \n849 ; 1779, state constitution conven- \ntion of, 887 ; 889 ; 677 ; 706. \n\nCamden, S. C, battle of, 891. \n\nCampbell, Chief Justice, cited as to au- \nthority of royal proclamations, 203. \n\nCanacum, sachem oi Manomet, visited \nby Standish, winter of 1G22-3, 69 ; his \ntreatment of Standish, 71 ; his treat- \nment of Massasoit, 73 ; dies of starva- \ntion, 103. \n\nCanada, 122 ; conquered by England, \n641 ; military expedition to, 1C90, \n758, 760 ; military expedition to, 1709, \n720 ; difficulty of enlisting soldiers \nfor, 1776, 870 ; 875. \n\nCanary Islands, trade between New \nEngland and, 698. \n\nCanonicus, chief of Narragansetts, chal- \nlenges Squanto, 35 ; 359. \n\nCape Ann, Dermer in danger of ^v^eck, \n1619, off, 26 ; touched by the ship \nSparrow, 1622. 52 ; region about drawn \nby Earl of Warwick at Greenwich, \n1623, 139 ; allotted to Mason in parti- \ntion of 1635,283; 346. \n\nCape Breton, northern limit of terri- \ntory granted to Plymouth Company, \n1606,118. \n\nCape Cod, Dermer visits, 1619, 26 ; 49 ; \n62 ; 131, note ; pure strain of English \nblood of settlers on, 922. \n\nCape Porpoise, Maine, 316 ; Wheelwright \nsettles near, 1641, 539. \n\nCapen, Josiah, of Braintree, 835. \n\nCarlisle, Earl of, concerned in 1635 par- \ntition of New England, 283. \n\nCarlyle, Thomas, cited, 83. \n\nCarver, Jolm, 48 ; 49 ; his station in \nEngland, 364. \n\nGary, , visits J. Q. Adams at Quincy, \n\nand recalls events of May 21, 1775, at \nBraintree, 857-8. \n\nCaryl, Joseph, writings of, favorite \nreading in New England, 391. \n\nCasco Bay territory drawn at Green- \nwich 1623, by Earl of Holderness, \n\n\n139; northern limit of Gorges prov- \nince in Maine, 1637, 301 ; 351. \n\nCasco tribe of Indians, party of, murder \nBagnall, 352-3. \n\nCass, Lewis, in election of 1848, 955. \n\nCasting of the Stools, see Jenny Geddes. \n\nCastle Island, Boston Bay, fortification \nof, 284 ; 287 ; 464 ; John Marshall em- \nployed on, 717. \n\nCatholics at Quincy, 946, 948. \n\nCaunbitant, see Corbitaut, 36. \n\nCavalier and Puritan forces in England, \n107. \n\nCeawlin, Saxon king, survival of cus- \ntoms of his time in New England, 655. \n\nCervantes, 390. \n\nChaleur Bay, northern limit of Plym- \nouth Company's territory 1620, 122. \n\nChamplain, Lake, first called Lake Iro- \ncoise or Iroquois, 120. \n\nChaiming, William Ellery, Unitarian \nmovement of, 643, 944. \n\nCharing Cross, London, Hugh Peters' \nexecution at, 376. \n\nCharity, Weston's vessel, 54 ; brings \npart of Weston's company, 1622, to \nNew England, 58 ; sails April 22, 59 ; \nbound also to Virginia, 59 ; m charge \nof Andrew Weston, ih. ; returns from \nVirginia, 61 ; returns to England, 62 ; \nbrings news of Indian massacre in \nVirginia, 1622, 74 ; 163. \n\nCharles I., of England, 202, 223 ; atti- \ntude of Puritans toward, 248, note ; \nthe beginning of his struggle, 1634, \n270 ; reasons for granting Mass. Bay \ncharter, 271 et seq. ; his character, \n273 ; 274 ; ignorance of New Eng- \nland, \\h. ; indifferent to New Eng- \nland question, 275 ; 300 ; 306 ; influence \nof Mass. Bay Company at court of, \n266-7 ; approves report of Privy Coun- \ncil committee on charter, 267 ; his \nstraightened finances, 1635, 290 ; 292 ; \n293 ; 294 ; attempt at absolute govern- \nment, 299 ; Laud's conference with, \nconcerning liturgy at Edinburgli, 300 ; \ndefeated at Kelso, 1639, 307 ; Gorges' \nplan of attack on Bristol sent to, 313 ; \n318 ; 347 ; sends Sir Harry Vane to \nNew England, 374; Hugh Peters' in- \nfluence .nt the trial of, 375 ; his pro- \njects for England, 561 ; probable effect \nof his success in New England, 570 ; \n701. \n\nCharles II., of England sustains grant \nmade to Endicott, 213 ; issues charter \nfor same, 213 ; 214 ; appoints Maver- \nick a royal commissioner for America, \n334 ; commission denounced and ig- \nnored 334-5 ; influences of his court \nadverse to New England, 654. \n\nCharles River, 159 ; 161 ; its mouth \nwithin the Robert Gorges' territory, \n136 ; 210 ; 2.32 ; the Spragues settle on \non the north side of, 217 ; 233 ; 269 ; \n363 ; 365, 484. \n\n\n1022 \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\nCharleston, S. C, captured by Britisli, \n17.S(), 8'Jl. \n\nCliarlestowii, Mass., first refiipe of \nMuss B;iy Colony, 1G30, 3G3 ; its site \nvisited by Staiidish, 1021,10; called \nMishawum, IGl ; first settlers, lO-iO, \n218 ; their appreheiisious of newcom- \ners, 220 ; intended the seat of Mass. \nBay government, 218; expedition \nfrom the Mary & Jolin to, 1029, 232-3 ; \nWinthrop's party lauded at, 1G3U,234 ; \nprovisions made for, ib. ; people of, in \nsevere straits, ib. ; sufferings at, 235 ; \nbad sauitary couditiou, ib, ; mortality \nat, 237; party reduced, 238; first \nmeeting of magistrates, 240 ; 2o8 ; de- \nfeuces ordered for, 1G34, 287; in- \ncreased by people from Wessagusset, \n321 ; Wallord compelled to remove \nfrom, 33(3 ; quarrel of Dudley and Win- \nthrop, 1G33, 377 ; destroyed iu battle \nof Bunker Hill, 859 ; Ursuline con- \nvent destroyed, 932 ; its dog-whipper \nand bell-ringer, 745, note; in tlie \nroute to Cambridge from Boston, 453 ; \npowder takea from by Gage, 1774, \n850. \n\nCharnock, Robert, associate of Barclay \nin plot against William III., 625. \n\nCharter of Mass. Bay of 1029, reasons \nof King for granting it, 271 et seq. ; \nattacked by Gorges, 1032, 203 et seq. ; \nsustained by Privy Council, 26G-7 ; at- \ntack renewed by Gorges, 1034, 271 \n€t seq. ; its surrender demanded by \nPrivy Council, 270 ; 279 ; not obeyed, \nib. ; order ignored by General Court, \n1035, 289; 290; its legal abrogation, \n292 ; Lords Commissioner, 1038, issue \nsecond order for surrender, 304 ; Gen- \neral Court refuses to obey, 305 ; lo.=t \nsight of, 307 ; abrogated, 1086, 817 ; \nprovincial, 1091 granted, ib. \n\nCharter to Plymouth Company of 1606, \n117-18, of 1020, its concessions of ter- \nritory, 121-3 ; jurisdiction conferred \nby, 123-4; becomes the Great Charter \nof New England, 123 ; assailed by Vir- \nginia Company, 124 ; opposition over- \ncome, 124-5; AUerton's efforts at \nLondon to obtain new one, 1629, 223. \n\nCharter, City of Quincy, its authors, \n998, principles of, 998-1000, terms of, \n1000-3. \n\nCharter election, see Election. \n\nChastity in New England, 795-9. \n\nChatham Harbor, Cajie Cod, 43 ; refuge \nof the Swan, 1022, 03. \n\nChauncey, Rev. Charlps, pastor of First \nChurch, Boston, 639 ; habit of driving \nin Boston, 678. \n\nCheeseborough, William, one of Brain- \ntree's first delegates to General Court, \n589. \n\nChelsea, Mass., site visited by Standish, \n1621, 16; called Winnisinomet, 161, \n330; 192. \n\n\nCheney, John, of Braintree, 830. \n\nChesapeake, U. S. man-of-war, in Boston \nBay, 911. \n\nChevyot Hills, name given to range about \nMilton, by Captain John Smith, 107. \n\nChicago, Illinois, 927. \n\nCliickatabot, sachem, driven by pesti- \nlence from his plantation, 11 ; 15; bis \ndwelling at Passonagessit, 107 ; his \nmother buried there, ib. ; sells Nau- \ntasket, 183 ; 303 ; his descendants \nconfirm Mount Wollaston land-title, \n653. \n\n\" Child of the Covenant,\" definition of, \n751-2. \n\nChilds, Dr. Robert, difficulty in New \nEngland, 333 ; sustained by Maverick, \n334 ; 349, 574. \n\nChoir singing, 739-41. \n\nChrist CJuirch, Braintree and Quincy, \n' 1689-1802, account of, 621-35 ; its li- \nbrary, 622, 804; 844; closed, 1777, \ni 853. \n\n; Christmas, 181 ; Mass. Bay law forbid- \n! ding the celebration of, 181, note ; at \nPlymouth, 1621, 180-1; observance \ndiscouraged, 623. \n\nChurch, Benjamin, officer in Indian \n' wars, 704. \n\ni Church in Mass. Bay, an oligarchy, \n1036, 382-92; controls legislature, \n513 ; church and state, 590 ; a social \ncentre, 750-1 ; its system, 732-46; its \nmembers only, freemen in Massachu- \nsetts until 1093, 747 ; requirements \nfor membership, 752 ; necessary of \nparents, for baptism of children, 751 ; \nform of admission to 752 ; ordeal of \nrelation of \"experience,\" 753; disci- \npline of erring members, 747-63, \n795-6 ; confessions to church, required \nof offenders, 754 ; confessions discon- \ntinued, 702. \n\nChurch of England, project to extend, in \nNew England, 142 ; Book of Common \nPrayer, 171, note; Laud's rule in, \n297 ; he regulates its ceremonials, \nib. ; reformation in England, causes \ntransfer of authority from one to \nmany heads, 382 ; its establishments \nin New England, 021 ; inspired with \nevangelicalism by Wesley, 733 ; rule \nin Virginia exercised to drive away \nTompson and Knowles, 599. \n\nChurch of Rome, at Quincy, 931. \n\nCicero, proficiency in, of Braintree \nschool-boys, 1047, 766; 967. \n\nCider, consvunption, colonial times, \nI 785-6. \n\nI Clapp, Roger, expedition from the Mary \n& John, to Charlestown, 1629, 232-3. \n\nClarendon, on popularity of Essex, 116 ; \ncourt influence of Lord Lenox, 124 ; \nMaverick's letter to, concerning the \nburning of Morton's house, t6., note ; \n246 ; on disregard of Scotland at \nEnglish Court, 294 ; Attorney General \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\n1023 \n\n\nNoy, and Sir John Finch, 295 ; opin- \nion of Sir Harry Vane, 373. \n\nClark, Jolin, of Braintree, 835. \n\nClark's tavern, Portsuiouth, Tutor \nFlynt's mishap, 1754, near, 787. \n\nCliy, Henry, defeated by Folk, 1844, \n953; 95U. \n\nCleanliness, habits of, colonial New Eng- \nland, 80(3 ; in British Isles, 807. \n\nCleeve, George, commission to New \nEngland, 1G37 ; 301 ; 302 ; authorized \nto explore for Lake Erocoise, 1037, \n301 ; resuscitates Plough Patent, 314 ; \nsells patent to Rigby, ib. ; returns to \nAmerica, 315 ; 344. \n\nCleon, Athenian demagogue, 989. \n\nClergy of New England, 392 ; intermar- \nriage in families, G08-9 ; consider ques- \ntion of submission to a royal governor, \n1635, 811-12; united in troubles of \n1637, 535 ; sermons on Stamp-Act, \n\n1765, 840-1 ; use of liquor by, 792. \nCleverly, Joseph, of Braintree, 851 ; \n\njudged inimical to popular cause, 1777, \n853 ; officiates at Christ Church in \nabsence of minister, 634 ; J. Adams' \nopinion of, 1758, 841-2 ; favors Stamp- \nAct, 842 ; poUtic attitude, election, \n\n1766, 843. \n\nCleverly family, of Episcopal church at \nBraintree, 632. \n\nClodius, Roman demagogue, 989. \n\nClothes, 17th and 18th centuries, 684-5. \n\nCoast defences, 1776, 867. \n\nCod, Cape, 62. \n\nCoddington, William, Assistant of Mass. \nBay colony, death of wife, 1630, 237 ; \n256, note ; acquires land at Wessagus- \nset, 1634, 583 ; one of the two proprie- \ntors at Mt. Wollaston, 1634, 365 ; suc- \nceeds Morton, as owner of Mt. Wol- \nlaston, 546 ; the property bought by \nWilliam Tyng, 1639, 707 ; his name \nperpetuated in connection with school \nlands, Quincy, 546, and note ; 767 ; \ntreasurer of Mass. Bay, 396 ; 415 ; not in \nsympathy with minister Wilson, 426 ; \nhis election to General Court, 1637, \nset aside, 455 ; sits in church with the \ndeacons instead of with the magis- \ntrates, 462 ; reelected to Court of Nov. \n1637, 475 ; 479 ; not expelled, 480 ; at- \ntempts defence of Anne Hutchinson, \n505 ; 506 ; effect of his interposition, \n507 ; one of two who voted in her fa- \nvor, 508 ; as her partisan exposed to \nannoyance, 547 ; 1638, removes to \nProvidence, ib. ; father of Rhode Is- \nland, 365 ; his brick house at Boston, \n547 ; 1640, conciliatory letter to Win- \nthrop, reports Morton in Rhode Is- \nland, 1644, 346 ; 1678, his death, 548 ; \n568, 593, 700 ; 905. \n\nCoffee, not in common use, colonial \ntimes, 785. \n\nCoggeshall, John, elected to General \nCourt, Nov. 1037, 475 ; expelled for i \n\n\nadhering to Wheelwright, 479; re- \nplaced by William Colburn, 480; at \ntrial of Anne Hutchinson, 495 ; m wit- \nness, browbeaten by Peters 496 ; 498, \n564, 568. \n\nCohasset, Mass., 910. \n\nCoke, Sir Edward, Crown counsel, trial \nof Essex, 112, 113 ; on powers con- \nferred to Plymouth Company, charter, \n\n1620, 124 ; antagonism to Gorges, 126- \n7 ; his vindictive character, 127 ; as \nspeaker of the House of Commons, \nsits during the examination of Gorges, \n\n1621, 127 ; personal interest in case, \n128-9 ; on legal authority of royal \nproclamation, 202. \n\nColburn, William, elected to replace \nCoggeshaU in General Court, 1637, \n480 ; votes in favor of Anne Hutchin- \nson, 508. \n\nColes, Robert, fined for dram drinking, \n356. \n\nColony of Mass. Bay, becomes a province \nunder charter of William and Mary, \n747. \n\nComber, Thomas, his Help to Devotion, \nin Christ church library, Quincy, 804. \n\nCommission Royal of 1664, its reception \nin Boston, 334-5. \n\nConnuodore, British man-of-war, in Bos- \nton Bay, May 1776, 868. \n\nCommon, Boston, see Boston Common. \n\nCommon-lands, custom of, 656 ; at \nBraintree, difficulties caused by, 655- \n65. \n\nCommon prayer, see Book of Common \nPrayer. \n\nCommunion, Braintree church, Episco- \npaUans admitted to, 629, 630, note. \n\nCommunity of women, 522, note. \n\nComus, Milton's poem, 390. \n\nConant, Roger, of Salem, 201. \n\nConcord, Mass., 136; 364; Dudley's \nproperty near, 365 ; battle, 827, 828, \n852, 855, 856, 878, 879. \n\nConfederation of United States, 1778, \nArticles of, 889-90. \n\nConfiscation of arms at Boston, 1637, \n511-12. \n\nCongleton, England, church dog-whip- \nper of, 744, note. \n\nCongress, Continental, Braintree's in- \nstructions on recommendations of \n1775, 849 ; John Adams a delegate to, \n1774, 850 ; sends him minister to \nFrance, 1778, 886 ; prayers for the \nKing forbidden, 852 ; its right to de- \nclare peace or war objected to at \nBraintree, 890. \n\nCongregational Society of Quincy, new \nchurch organization, 1824. \n\nConnecticut, the Plymouth people es- \ntablish a trading station in, 100 ; pa- \ntented to Lord Brooke and Lord Say \nand Scale, 374. \n\nConnecticut River, 898 ; British flotilla, \nin, during war of 1812, 910. \n\n\n1024 \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\nConscience Whigs in Mass., 95v5. \n\nConstable office avoided at Braintree, \n8'J4-5 ; elections to, a town joke, 825 ; \npenalty of line for refusing office, ib. \n\nConstitution, U. S. man-of-war, in Bos- \nton Bay, 910. \n\nConstitution of Mass., 1779, convention \n887, 889, 890. \n\nConvention, Boston, 17G8, to consider \nBritish soldiers in Mass., 847. \n\nCopelaud, Ephraim, of Braintree, 830. \n\nCook, John, regicide, executed with \nPeters, 376, note. \n\nCorbitant, sachem, allies himself with \nthe Narragansetts, 32 ; endeavors to \ncompass Squauto's death, 32-3; quar- \nrels with Squanto and Hobauiack, 33- \n4 ; unsuccessful expedition to capture, \n34 ; rumor of Squanto as his spy, 36 ; \nalarm at Plymouth of attack from, \n1622, 38 ; 39. \n\nCoruhill, Boston, 358. \n\nCornwallis, defeats Gates at Camden, \n1780, 891. \n\nCotton, Rev. John, cited, 300 ; teacher \nof Boston Church, 332, 370 ; result of \nhis election sermon, 1634, 371 ; 377 ; \nof reconciliation committee between \nDudley and Winthrop, 379 ; on com- \npelling conformity to interpretations \nof Bible, 386 ; his writings, 390 ; cause \nof Anne Hutchinson coming to New \nEngland, 393 ; his sermons, particular- \nly considered at her weekly meetings, \n398 ; 409, note; her favorite minister, \n393, 411 ; in the investigation of Cove- \nnants of Grace and Works question, \n413 ; his theological tenets, 418 ; 425 ; \n4.57 ; attempt to detach him from Mrs. \nHutchinson, 422 ; submits to theo- \nlogical inquiry, 423 ; takes issue with \nWilson, 163(5, 425 ; not in sympathy \nwith him, 426 ; distinguished by Anne \nHutchinson, as under the Covenant of \nGrace, 427, 492-3, 494, 495 ; at her exam- \nination Dec. 1636, 426-8 ; at meeting of \nchurch to rebuke Wilson, 429 ; engages \nin a controversy with Winthrop, 1637, \n430 ; required to reply to written ques- \ntions, ih. ; his relations with Anne \nHutchinson, 1637, ib.; the cause of \ncontention between her and Wilson, \n436; his adherence desired by both \nparties in Antinomian controversy, \nib. ; contrasted with Wheelwright, \nib. ; preaches fast-day sermon, Jan. \n1637, 437 ; invites Wheelwright \" to \nexercise,\" ib. ; 4.56; di-sposed to aban- \ndon the colony because of alien law, \n463 ; desire of Puritan elders, 1637, to \nreconcile him with Wilson, 468 ; the \neffect on his position in Boston church \nby Vane's return to England, 469 ; \nannounces Wilson's concessions, 469 ; \nhis tlieological views considered by \nsynod of 1637, 472-4 ; sustained by \nsynod, 474 ; prevents Boston electors \n\n\nfrom resenting expulsion of deputies \nfrom General Court, 479 ; regarded \nfriendly to Wht^elwriglit party, Nov. \n1637, 480; attends trial of Anne \nHutchinson, 486 ; his position in the \ntrial, 492 ; 496 ; called on for testi- \nmony, 497 ; effect of liis testimony, \n498 ; 501, 503 ; 1637, involved in argu- \nments concerning miracles, 504 ; crit- \nicised by Dudley, 505; 506; 507; \nadvises taking arms from disaffected, \n512 ; abandons Mrs. Hutchinson, 514 ; \npronounces admonition to her sons for \ndefending her 521 ; in discussion on \ncommuuity of women 522, note ; takes \ncustody of her at close of first day's \ntrial, 523 ; 524, 525, 526, 527 ; reiter- \nates a charge that slie had lied, 530 ; \nconsents to her excommunication, ib. ; \nthe leader of the minority in Boston, \n534 ; effect on good public order of his \nsubmission to the authorities, ib. ; is \nnot unhappy in Mrs. Hutchinson's mia- \nfortunes, 535, note ; respecting invita- \ntion to Wheelwright to take refuge in \nRhode Island, 539; Underbill writes \nan abusive letter to, from Maine, 555 ; \n563, 564, note ; attends ordination of \nTompson at Braintree, 1640, 595 ; ad- \nmired by Henry Flynt, 603 ; accom- \npanied to this country by Edmund \nQulncy, 700; his Spiritual Milk for \nAmerican Babes, a school text-book, \n778-9. \n\nCouncil for New England, style of Plym- \nouth Company under charter of 1620, \n122 ; David Thompson agent of, 1622, \n58; organized under Gorges patent, \n131 ; its meetings and place of same, \nib. ; want of interest of noble mem- \nbers of, ib. ; adopts rules for protection \nof the fisheries, 132 ; 133, note ; inad- \nequate response to call of Robert Gor- \nges, 1622, 137 ; its patent of land to \nWeston, 58 ; their rules violated by \nhim, 145; 149; Thompson's com- \nplaints against him, 146 ; on its last \nlegs, 1624, 152-3; informed of Mor- \nton's offences, 1628, 208; territory \ngranted to Endicott by, 209 ; difficul- \nties with Mass. Company, 222; un- \nequal to exigencies of 1634, 276 ; \nscheme for extending its powers, ib. ; \nits poverty, 1635, 290 ; surrenders pa- \ntent, 1635, 283-4 ; 295 ; petitions of \nAssociates for patents in severalty \n283, 292 ; 298 ; Morton in service of, \n1637, 301. \n\nCouncil of the North, a tribunal of Eng- \nland, 1634, 270. \n\nCourt of Assistants of Mass. Bay, first \nmeeting of, 240 ; fines Endicott for \nbeating Thomas Dexter, 261 ; punish- \nment decreed for Ratcliff, 261 ; cases \nof punishments ordered by, 262, note ; \ndeliberates on the order to return \ncharter, 259 ; decides to procrastinate, \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\n1025 \n\n\ni6. ; tries Morton, 34G ; imprisons and \ntines him, 348 ; Shepherd, Coles and \nGibbons fin(Hl for drinking, 356. \n\nCourt of High Commission, English tri- \nbunal nnder Charles I., 270. \n\nCourt of King's Bench, decision on legal \nauthority of royal proclamation, 202 ; \ntjau warrcmio writ against Mass. Bay \nCompany filed in, lt)35, 291, 295, 298, \n301, 302, 303, 304. \n\nCourt of St. James, John Adams, U. S. \nMinister to, 888 ; C. F. Adams, U. S. \nMinister to, 957. \n\nCovenants of Grace and Works, Anne \nHutchinson's theory of, 402; 492-3; \ndiscussed at her examination, 1030, \n42G-8 ; her discovery of, 500 ; defined, \n402-0 ; subject of clerical investiga- \ntion, 413 et seq. ; preached by Wheel- \nwright, fast-day, 1637, 438 and at Mt. \nWollaston, 475; 472; Greensmith \nfined for naming Ministers of Works, \n442 ; Grace party strong, Boston \nchurch, 447 ; discussed by 1637 Synod, \n471 ; Nov. General Court undertakes \nto purge community of, 479 ; 491 ; 494 ; \n539j Winthrop sees anarchical ten- \ndency of, 568. See Antimoniau Con- \ntroversy. \n\nCovenant of Quincy church, 749. \n\nCovenant, Scotch, signed, 1638, 304; \n306. \n\nCoventry, Lord, 304. \n\nCradock, Matthew, Governor, listens to \nOldham's propositions, 214 ; instructs \nEndicott to maintain possession of ter- \nritory in New England, 216 ; encour- \nagement of fur-trade, 219 ; 259 ; in \ndefence of Mass. Bay charter. 1632, \n265 ; called upon for charter, 270 ; \n275 ; his influence in Privy Council \novercome, 278 ; transmits order for \nreturn of charter, 1634, 279 ; 282, 284, \n286,291,304,347. \n\nCranch, Richard, of Quincy's anti-pri- \nvateer committee, 1793, 906 ; first post- \nmaster of Quincy, 1795, 804, 904; sug- \ngests the name for town of Quincy, \n711, 904; 856; represents Braintree \nin General Court, 1780, 889 ; his wife \na sister of Mrs. John Adams, 904 ; fa- \nther of Justice William, ib. \n\nCranch, Judge William, at Salem, 1766, \n677 ; son of Richard, 904; reporter of \nU. S. Supreme Court, ih. \n\nCrane, Thomas, library building given to \nQuincy in memory of, 942 ; his career \nand character, 942-3 ; 944. \n\nCromwell, Oliver, 318; 347; his rela- \ntions with Wlieplwriglit, 369 ; with Sir \nHarry Vane, 373; 375; his funeral, \n375; 450,594,710. \n\nCromwell, Richard, dispersion of Long \nParliament, 860. \n\nCrosby, Joseph, his pew in Braintree \nmeeting-liouse, 1712, 735 ; his report \nin fish contention, 832. \n\n\nCrown Point expedition, 1756, 835 ; cap- \nture of, 837. \n\nCummaquid, Indian, 33. \n\nCumberland, R. I., death of William \nBlackstone at, 144, note. \n\nCurfew, at Quincy, 1810-1880, 907. \n\nGushing, Judge William, riding the cir- \ncuit, 1771, 678. \n\nCushman, Robert, 1622, on deteriora- \ntion of Mass. Indians, 10 ; with Wes- \nton charters the Mayflower, 47 ; his \nrelations with Weston, 47, 48, 50 ; let- \nter to Bradford about him, 67 ; vis- \nits Plymouth in the ship Fortune, \n50, 130 ; urges compliance with Wea- \nton\"s demand.s, 50 ; on territory grant- \ned to Robert Gorges, 131, note. \n\nDagon, Mount, Endicott 's name for \nMerry Mount, 211. \n\nDamariscove Islands, visited by ship \nSparrow, 1622, 51 ; 53, 54. \n\nDanfortli, Samuel, minister of Roxbury, \n601. \n\nDanish names of Lincolnshire towns, \n369. \n\nDante, 390. \n\nDavenport, John, 527 ; his lecture be- \nfore Boston church, 1637, 469; at \n1 637 synod, 470 ; at the church trial \nof Anne Hutchinson, 519 ; on commu- \nnity of women, 522, 7ioie ; labors to con- \nvince Mrs. Hutchinson of errors, 523 ; \ncredited by her with enlightenment, \n526 ; 527 ; as a revivahst, 620. \n\nDavis, John, in election of 1836, 952. \n\nDeacon, oflace of distinction in New \nEngland, 713. \n\nDeane, Charles, on conflict of 1632 over \nMassachusetts Bay charter, 267, note. \n\nDecatur, Stephen, Captain, U. S. N., \n1812, breakfasts with Josiah Quincy, \n911 ; 912. \n\nDeclaration of Independence, 1776, 642 ; \nBraintree's instructions on, 849 ; read \nat, 852 ; entered on records of, 870. \n\nDe Costa, F. B., on Morton as a Church \nof England martyi-, 171, note. \n\nDedham, John Allen, minister, 1640, \n595 ; church at, 607 ; 718 ; 726 ; its \nmeeting-house dog-whipper, 745, iiote ; \nhusking at, 1767, 791 ; 828. \n\nDeer in Braintree woods, 924. \n\nDefinitive treaty of peace. United States \nand Great Britain, signed, 1783, 893. \n\nDefoe, Daniel, on the London plague, 2. \n\nDelft Haven, sailing of the Pilgrims \nfrom, 47. \n\nDemocratic party, Quincy, 945 et seq. ; \ninfluence in 1887 town-meeting, 991 \net seq. \n\nDemosthenes, 967. \n\nDerbyshire, England, 603. \n\nDermer, Thomas, 1615, explores coast of \nNew England and Newfoundland, 25 ; \ntakes Squanto to England, ib. : on In- \ndian pestilence, 1619-20, 3 ; redeems \nkidnapped Indians, 1619, 7 ; visits \n\n\n1026 \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\nNew England, 25-8 ; redeems French \ncaptive Irom Indians, 'it> ; jiasses win- \nter at Jamestown, Va., 27 ; IG'JO, a^ain \nin New England, ib. : contiict with \nIndians, M.irtlia's Vineyard, 27-8; \nde;ith, iu Virginia, 28 ; 43. \n\nDevereux, Robert, Earl of Essex, see \nEssex. \n\nDevereux, W. B., his History of Earls \nof Easex cited, 115. \n\nD'Ew.'s, Sir Symonds, Autobiography \ncited, 2'Jl. \n\nDe Tocqaeville, xee Tocqueville. \n\nDexter, H. M., editor of Mourt's Rela- \ntions, 24, note. \n\nDexter, Thomas, his affair with Plulip \nRatclitf , 2G0 ; assaults Simuel Hutch- \ninson, ib. ; is beaten by Endicott, ib. ; \nhis case against Endicott, 337. \n\nDimblebee, William, Braintree pauper, \n724; 819-20. \n\nDiphtheria, a scourge in 1735 and 1751, \n801. \n\nDisease in colonial Massachusetts, 800- \n1 ; 801, nofe, \n\nDiversions, iu colonial New England, \n808-9. \n\nDogs in Braintree meeting-house, 744 ; \niu other meetiug-houses, 744-5, and \nnote. \n\nDog-vvliipper, in old English churches, \n744-5, note. \n\nDomestic habits, colonial New England, \n807. \n\nDon Quixote, 390. \n\nDorchester, Lord, intervenes in obtain- \ning charter for Endicott, 213 ; his in- \nfluence in obtaining Mass. Bay char- \nter, 274. \n\nDorcliester Company, removes Lyford \nand others from Nantasket, 1G25-6, \n190. \n\nDorchester Fields, 233. \n\nDorchester Heights, 15; 233; 865-6; \n902. \n\nDorchester, Mass., French coins found \nat, 1031, 8-9 ; within territory granted \nto Robert Gorges, 131, note ; its In- \ndian name, Mattapan, 233; 238; de- \nfence ordered for, 1(;34, 2S7 ; 338; \nwild region about, 1G30, 3G4, 365; \nroad to Weymouth made, 1G48, 594 ; \nto Stoughton's mill, 1G34, GG9 ; bridge \nacross Nepouset, iG52, 670 ; on tlie \nroad, Boston to Plymouth, 609, G71 ; \n717 ; 726 ; service in Indian war, 1645, \n828 ; occupation of Heights by co- \nlonial forces, March 4, 1776, 865-6; \n902. \n\n, church established, 1630, 586; \n\nRicliard M vtlier, minister, 1640, 595 ; \ncollection taken for Tompson. 1665, \n602 ; Josiah Fljnit, minister, 607 ; dis- \ncipline of Mary Modesly, 1681, 754-5, \nnote. \n\nD>rothy Q., see Quincy, Dorothy. \n\nDover, New Hampshire, 201, 556. \n\n\nDowning, Emanuel, Wintlirop's brother- \nin-law, aids defenders of Mass. Bay \ncharter, 2GG ; 275. \n\nDoyle, John A., concerning Wiuthrop, \n378, note. \n\nDrafts for army, unwillingness in New \nEngland to submit to, 875, 892. \n\nDrake, Sir Francis, explorations on the \nPacific coast, 122. \n\nDreadnaught, British ship. Gorges in \ncommand, expedition against Spain, \n1597; 10(!. \n\nDrink in New England, colonial times \n686-7, 785 et *eq. \n\nDrunkenness in colonial New England, \n786 et seq. ; 800. \n\nDryden, John, reputed cousin of Anne \nHutchinson, 392 ; 772. \n\nDublin University, Laud as Chancellor \nof, 297, \n\nDudley, Joseph, Massachusetts Bay \nagent at Lond m, 1G92, 654 ; as Gov- \nernor, letter con erning Thomas Eager \nof Braintree, 624; favors Veazie in \nchurch tax question, 626. \n\nDudley, Lieut. S imuel, in the capture \nof Gardiner, 2.56. \n\nDudley, Governor Thomas, 241 ; writes \nof Morton to Countess of Lincoln, \n169, 246, 256, note, 484; supersedes \nWinthrop as governor, 279; project \nfor fortifying Castle Island, 1634, 284 ; \ncalls meeting of Assistants to consider \nEndicott's mutilation of royal banner, \n295; a partner in Maverick's commer- \ncial ventures, 330 ; major-general of \nMassachusetts Bay forces, 359 ; his \nfarm lands, 365; elected governor, \n1634, 371 ; succeeded by Haynes, 1635, \nib. ; his differences with Winthrop, \n1636, 377 ; Doyle's opinion of, 378, \nnote ; a reader of theological disquisi- \ntions, 390 ; the site of his dwelling at \nCambridge, 484 ; elected deputy-gov- \nernor. May, 1637, 455 ; life member of \ncouncil, ib. ; at trial of Anne Hutchin- \nson, 487, 495, 502, 503; interrogates \nCotton, 498 ; interrupts him, 504 ; \nhis attitude towards, 514 ; in discus- \nsion over Anne Hutchinson's speech, \n505 ; 507 ; joins in attack after her \ncotifession, 528 ; 572 ; 573 ; 59.5. \n\nDudley, Madam, at funeral of Edmund \nQuincy, 1G98, 701. \n\nDudley, Paul, 1741, Braintree's delegate \nto General Court, 708 ; election nega- \ntived by Governor Shirley, ib. \n\nDummer, William, 568 ; causes settle- \nment of church tax question, 629. \n\nDunbar, Scotland, prisoners from battle \nof, emigrants to New England, 1651, \n922. \n\nDutch of New York, encroachments on \nPlymouth colony, 280 ; pretensions to \nNew England, 306, 319. \n\nDuxbury, Mass., 88 ; Morton shoots ovei \nmarshes of, Z 15. \n\n\nINDEX, \n\n\n1027 \n\n\nDwellings, at Braintree, seventeenth \ncentury, G80-4. \n\nDyer, Mary, a milliner at London, 548 ; \nfollower of Mrs. Hutchinson, 532,548 ; \nremoves to Rhode Island, 541) ; be- \ncomes a Quaker, ib. ; 1G59, seeks per- \nsecution at Boston, ib. ; is persecuted, \n408, «o^e, 409-10, note: arrested and \nbanished, 549 ; returns again to Bos- \nton, ib. : imprisoned and sentenced to \ndeath, ib. ; accompanies William Rob- \ninson and Marmaduke Stephenson to \nthe scaffold, 550 ; compelled by force \nto leave Boston, ib. : returns to Bos- \nton, and hanged, 551 ; believed to \nLave received divine punishment, 389. \n\nDyer, William, husband of Mary, 548. \n\nDysentery, chronic, epidemic of 1775, \n801, 8G'2. \n\nEager, Thomas, minister of Christ \nChurch, Braintree, 1713-14, 623; his \nprotest against taxing Episcopalians \nfor support of town minister, 624; \nhis cliaracter, 624-5. \n\nEast Boston, formerly Noddle's Island, \n192 ; settlers at, 321. \n\nEastham, Mass., 31, 64, 65. \n\nEdgar, of England, law forbidding dogs \nand swine in churclies, 745, note. \n\nEdict of Nantes, 248, note. \n\nEdinburgh, St. Giles' Church, rejection \nof Laud's liturgy, 300, 302. \n\nEducation in New England, 765-82. \n\nEdward VI. of England, 248, note. \n\nEdwards, Jonathan, his influence in \nNew Enelaud, 798; his religious re- \nvival at Northampton, 1735, 749. \n\nEgerton, Thomas, lord chancellor, at- \ntempts to prevent the Essex treason, \n108 ; confined at Essex House, ib. ; \nliberated by Gorges, 109-11. \n\nElection, annual charter, 1637; .ser- \ngeants refuse escort to Winthrop, 461. \n\nElections held in meeting-houses, 743. \n\nEliot, John, reference to Hugh Peters, \n375 ; 430 ; attends trial of Anne Hutch- \ninson, 486 ; his evidence, 492 ; 507 ; \ntakes oath, ib. ; 525 ; 607 ; takes part \nin persecuting her after lier confes- \nsion, .526 ; cliarges her with lies, 529. \n\nElizabeth, of England, 45; sends Gorges \nto relief of Huguenots, 1591, 106 ; her \nrelations witli Essex, 107 ; sends Pop- \nliam and Egerton to prevent his insur- \nrectionary project, 108; her estima- \ntion of tie plot, 110; 116; 1i?>, note ; \n313; 316; her grants of land in \nAmerica, 651. \n\nEllis, Georgre E., cited as to sjTiods, 468 ; \nas to Winthrop's conduct of trial of \nAnne Hutchinson, 488, note. \n\nEmigrants to colonial New England, \nnationality of, 922. \n\nEmigration from Old to New England, \nlimit of, 689, 922. \n\nEndicott, John, 155 ; arrives, 1628, at \n\n\nSalem, 209; extent of his territory, \nib. ; his application for land through \nEarl of Warwick, 210 ; hews down \nMorton's May-pole, 211 ; calls settle- \nment Mount Dagon, ib. ; his grant \ncontested by Gorges, 213 ; sustained \nby tlie King, ib. ; permits settlement \nat Mishawum, 217 ; encourages it, \n218 ; his fur-trade policy, 219 ; en- \ncourages tobacco growing, 220 ; 224 ; \ncalls a general court at Salem to con- \nsider difficulties with the older colo- \nnists, 225 ; statement of Morton as to \nhis intolerance, ?7). ,• called by Morton, \nCaptain Littleworth, 228 ; his effort to \narrest Morton, ih. ; stayed by famine \nand sickness at Salem, 1629-30, ib. ; \nrefuses to receive Rev. Ralph Smith \nas a settler at Salem, 230 ; attends the \ntrial of Morton, 1630, 241 ; his action \nrespecting Morton discussed , 245 ; 249, \n250 ; the severity of a judgment miti- \ngated, 257; 259; beats Thomas Dex- \nter, 200 ; his excuse, ib. ; fined there- \nfor, 261 ; 337 ; his affair with Ratcliff, \n261 ; in the cases of persons punished \nby Court of Assistants, 262, note ; out \nof harm's way, 279 ; mutilates royal \nbanner, 1634, 287 ; 295 ; officiates at \nmarriage of William Blackstone, 324 ; \nwatches to arrest Morton, lt>44, 346 ; \n347, 354 ; major-general of Massachu- \nsetts Bay forces, 359 ; Doyle's opinion \nof, 378, note; his reading confined to \ntheological disquisitions, 390 ; puts \nmotion for removal of General Court \nto Cambridge, 450 ; chosen member of \ncouncil for life, 455 ; 479 ; sits with \nWinthrop at trial of Anne Hutchinson, \n487 ; 494 ; 503 ; his attitude towards \nCotton, at trial, 514 ; 549; 551 ; mouth- \npiece of Hugh Peters, 572 ; his com- \npany called Separatists, 568; contempt \nfor Coggeshall, 495. \n\nEngland, prosperity under Charles I., \n299 ; importance of peace to, ib. ; \ncivil war, 1688, 313; miserable state \nof church cause of fast-day in New \nEngland, 1637, 437 ; 817; government \nunfriendly to Puritan enterprise, 559 ; \nintellectual condition of, seventeenth \ncentury, 566 ; war with France, 641 ; \n642; conquest of Canada, 641; war \nwith Spain, 1718, 703 ; influence of its \ninstitutions upon tliose of New Eng- \nland, 815 ; its commercial forms fol- \nlowed, ib. ; limit of emigration to \ncolonial New England from, 922 ; Par- \nliament, origin traced to Baltic settle- \nments, 980. \n\nEnglish, adventurers, typified by Wes- \nton, 45; sports and games in New \nEngland, 179-81. \n\nEnlistments for Revolutionary army, \ndifficultiep, 870 ; 873, 875-9, 892. \n\nEpenow. Indian captured, 24, note ; in- \nduces Gorges in 1614 to send an expe- \n\n\n1028 \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\ndition to New England, 26 ; goes with \nHobson to Martha's Vineyard to find \ngold, 1614, 119 ; his character, '26-7 ; \nescapes at Martha's Vineyard, 27 ; \nmeets Dermer, 1619, ib. ; in attack \nupon Dermer at Martha's Vineyard, \n1620, 27-8. \n\nEpidemic among Indians, 1616-7, 1-4, \n9-12. \n\nEpiscopacy in New England, 321 et seq. ; \n631 ; 634-5 ; of short duration at Wey- \nmoutli, 342. \n\nEpiscopal Church, Braintree, opposed to \nthe division of town, 822 ; its pro- \nStamp Act interest, 840-3 ; in Brain- \ntree election, 1766, 843-4 ; a tory hot- \nbed, 850 ; 851 ; 852 ; at Quincy, 930. \n\nErocoise, Lake, i. e. Iroquois, described \nin New English Canaan, 301 ; 314, \n&44. \n\nEssex, Earl of, sent by Elizabeth to relief \nof Huguenots, 1591, 106 ; commands i \nparty sent out against Spain, 1597, \nib. ; his conspiracy, 107 ; his character, ; \nib. ; his relations with Elizabeth, ib. ; | \nhis failure in Ireland, l(KX), ib. ; his j \ntreason conference, February, 1601, \n108; his extrication planned by \nGorges, ib. ; captured at Essex House, \n110 ; his trial, 111 - 12 ; effect ot \nGorges' testimony, ib ; his colloquy \nwith him, ib. ; the tribute of Gorges , \nto, 114; hi.s popularity, 115; the pro- \ntector of the Puritans, 116; 117; the | \neffect of Gorges' supposed disloyalty, \namong the Puritans of 1621, 126 ; 275 ; \n313: 316; 317. \n\nEssex House, meeting of conspirators at, \n108, 109, 110. \n\nEssex, a Salem privateer, 879. \n\nEstaing, Count d', at Boston, 1758, 788. | \n\nEtter, Peter, of Braintree, 843. [ \n\nEurope, seventeenth century thought i \nin, 565 et seq. ' \n\nEustis, William, elected governor of \nMas.sachusetts, 1824, 915 ; vote for at \nQuincy, ib. : 945. \n\nEvangelical Congregational religious so- \nciety, Quincy, builds church, 1834, \n930. \n\nEvarts family, descendants of Joanna \nHoar, 705. \n\nEvarts, William Maxwell, 705. \n\nEverett, Edward, votes at Quincy for, \nas governor, 948, 950. \n\nExcommunication of Anne Hutclunson, \nfrom Boston cliurch, 51.5-32. \n\nExeter, Dean of, of the Plymouth Com- \npany under charter of 1620, 122. \n\nExeter, England, Morton committed to \njail in, 1630, 250 ; church dog-whipper, \n744, note. \n\nExeter, New Hampshire, English emi- \ngrants, 1637, supposed to have settled \nat, 460; 1637, Wheelwright takes up \nresidence at, 482^539. \n\n\"Experience,\" religious, required of \n\n\ncandidates for church - membership, \n\n753. \n\nEzion-Geber, Arabia, burial place of \nW, P. Lunt, 641. \n\nFaber, Joseph, cooper, Piscataqua set- \ntlement, 555. \n\nFairfield, Connecticut, John Hancock \nand Dorothy Quincy married at, 1775, \n681. \n\nFairfax, Thomas, Lord, captures Bristol, \n314 ; protects Sir F. Gorges, ib. ; 317 \n\nFalkland, Lord, slain at battle of New- \nbury, 313. \n\nFarmers of New England, importance \nof, in shaping the state, 712; habits \nof saving, ib. ; on equality with gentry \nand clergy, 713 ; send sons to college, \nib. \n\nFarm School Island, first occupied by \nDavid Thompson, 191. \n\nFarm-hands, supplied with drink rations, \n790. \n\nFast -day, 1637, Boston, sermon, by \nWheelwright, 437-40 ; effect of, 441- \n50 ; 489 ; Mount Wollaston, 593 ; 1659, \nto restore habits of simple life, 802. \n\nFaxon, Azariah, manifesto of Sept. 1786, \n995. \n\nFaxon, Henry H., of Quincy, advocate \nof total abstinence, 977-9 ; 979 ; 991. \n\nFaxon family, in Braintree town rec- \nords, 976. \n\nFederalist party, Quincy devoted to, \n909 ; 915, 945. \n\nFen hamlets, England, names of Danish \norigin, 369. \n\nFerrol, English expedition to, 1597, \n106. \n\nFerries across Neponset river, 669, 672. \n\nFeudal system, projected for America, \n651. \n\nFfincli, , master of French vessel, \n\nkilled by Indians in Boston Bay, 7. \n\nFiat money, 1780, 883. \n\nFiddle in Braintree choir, 741. \n\nField, Ebenezer, of Braintree, 1766, 843. \n\nField, Job, a privateer, in Pljmouth jail, \n1781, 879. \n\nFields, William, of Braintree, 1728, de- \nclines office of constable, 825. \n\nFifth monarchy, 565. \n\nFinances of the Revolution, 883-5. \n\nFinch, Sir John, promotes ship-money \ntax scheme, 295. \n\nFirearms, trade in, forbidden by King, \nir,22, 195 ; supplied to Indians by \nMorton, ib. ; tlie evil effect of, 199 ; \nnumber in possession of Indians, 1627, \n200 ; trade in, carried on by Morton, \n244. \n\nFirst Colony, afterwards called London \nCompany, incorporated 1606, 118. \n\nFish in Monatiqnot River, 1736, cause of \ncontention at Braintree. 831—4. \n\nFisher, Fort, see Fort Fisher. \n\nFisheries, restrictions on Banks of New- \nfoundland, in 1020, Plymouth Com- \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\n1029 \n\n\npany charter, 123; North Atlantic I \ncoast, protection of, liili'J, 13.i ; 133, \nnote. 1 \n\nFiske, Anna, daughter of Rev. Thomas i \nShepard, widow of Daniel Quiucy, \nsecond wife of Moses, 615. \n\nFiske, Moses, made minister of Brain- \ntree church, 1072, 607 ; his family \nconnections and children, 609 ; 61 '1 ; \n613; 614; his second wife, 615, 707; \n623 ; his salary, 042 ; 693 ; his pew in \nmeeting-house, 1700, 735 ; 748 ; his \nrecords of church discipline, 754-8 ; \n760 ; 821 ; 822. ■ \n\nFitcher, , succeeds Rasdell in com- \nmand of Wollaston's settlement, 168 ; \nMorton supersedes him, 1626, 174 ; \nnot mentioned by Morton, 174, note ; \ntakes refuge at Wessagusset, 175. \n\nFleet prison, Winslow's confinement in, \n1635, 282, 344. \n\nFlint, Henry, see Flynt, Henry. \n\nFlora, May-day revels a survival of the \nworship of, 182. \n\nFlorence, Italy, plague, 1. \n\nFlushing, Long Island, Underbill's resi- \ndence at, 558, note. \n\nFlynt, Dorothy, \"Dorothy Q.\" the wife \nof Edmun 1 Quiucy, 4th, 605 ; her de- \nscendants, 702. \n\nFlynt, Henry, first teacher Braintree \nchurch, 586 ; ordained, 1040, 596 ; \nmade minister of same, 1659, 603 ; \nduration of ministry, 748 ; account of \nhis life, 603 ; on probation because of \nadherence to Wheelwright, ih. ; his \nwife, Margery Hoar, 604; 705 ; his de- \nscendants, 605; 643; 047; his last \nwill, 603. \n\nFlynt, Henry [2d], son of Josiah, grand- \nson of Rev. Henry, tutor at Harvard, \n605 ; his character, 006 ; his journey \nto Portsmouth, 1755, 677, 787. \n\nFlynt, Josiah, son of Rev. Henry, father \nof \" Dorothy Q.,\" 605; candidate, for \nministry at Braintree, 606 ; accepts \ncall at Dorchester, 607 ; his name \ngiven to grandson, 702. \n\nFolk-mote, theory of derivation of town- \nmeeting from, 814 ; 815. \n\nFool, in colonial New England, 685-6; \n800, 807. \n\nFort Duquesne, 835. \n\nFort Fisher, North Carolina, captured \nby General Terry, 705. \n\nFort William Henry, capitulation of, \n1757, 830, 875. \n\nFortress Monroe, Va., 962. \n\nFortune, ship sent to New England by \nWsston, July, 1621, 48; her arrival, \nNov., 35; returns to England with \ncargo of skins, 35; 48; brings Cush- \nman and Trevore, 1622, 1.30. \n\nFourth of July, celebration, Quincy, \n1826, 920 ; day of John Adams' death, \nih. \n\nFourth Regiment, Mass. Militia, 962. \n\n\nFox, George, voyage from Newport to \nNew York, 1672, 598. \n\nFox, Thomas, puuiahed by Court of As- \nsistants, 262, note. \n\nFoxcrott, Rev. , of Boston First \n\nChurch, Briant's allusion to, 639 ; hia \nreply, ih. \n\nFrance, 270 ; 476 ; colonial wars with, \n912 ; war with England, Oil ; 642 ; war \nwith Great Britain, 1793, 906 ; intel- \nlectual condition of, seventeenth cen- \ntury, 566 ; 507. \n\nFranklin, Benjamin, prediction as to \nincrease of population in America, \n689; friend of Josiah Quincy, 1st. \n704. \n\nFrederick II. of Prussia, 874. \n\nFreeman, Edward A., on dog law of Ed- \ngar, 745, note. \n\nFreemen in Mass., church - members \nonly, until 1693, 747. \n\nFree-soil party, convention, 1848, Buf- \nfalo, 955 ; vote of, at Quincy, 956 ; its \ninfluence, ih. ; its strength at Quincy, \n957. \n\nFrench emigrants to colonial Massachu- \nsetts, 922. \n\nFrench, encroachments of, on Plymouth \ncolony, 1634, 280 ; a pretext made by \nMass. Bay for not returning charter, \n306. \n\n, fleet at Boston, 1778, 788. \n\n, traders in Boston Bay, 6 ; at- \ntacked by Indians, 7-8 ; vessel cap- \ntures one of Gorges' under Captain \nJohn Smith, 1615, 119. \n\n, war, 1690, Braintree's contribu- \ntion of men to, 830 ; burden of, on \nNew England, 827; 835-7; of 1744, \n707. \n\nFrench, Samuel, of Braintree, 623. \n\nFriendship, vessel, men fined for drink- \ning on, 356. \n\nFriesland, village moots of, 980. \n\nFuller, Dr. Samuel, takes care of the \nsick of Weston's company, 61 ; on \ncondition of settlers at Charlestown, \n1630, 236 ; 344 ; death from small-pox, \n1634, 3. \n\nFur trade, conserved to Plymouth Com- \npany, in charter of 1620, 123-4 ; Mor- \nton engages in, 194; the pi-ofits of, \n196 ; importance to the Mass. Com- \npany, 216 ; policy to make it a govern- \nment monopoly, 219. \n\nFurnace Brook, Braintree, site of iron- \nworks, 923. \n\nFurniture in New England, 684. \n\nGage, General Thomas, takes powder \nfrom Charlestown, 1774, 850; alarm \ncaused by his foraging parties, 856-7 ; \nrestores Nantasket liglithouse, de- \nstroyed by militia, 1775, 801 : r;tam \nto England, 864. \n\nGager, , one of Winthrop's pai-ty, \n\ndeath of, 1630, 236. \n\n\n1030 \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\nGalleries in New England meeting- \nhouses, 73G. \nGames and sports frowned upon in New \n\nEngland, 179-81. \nGardiner, Sir Christopher, tlie story of, \n'250-8; assumed to be Gorges' agent, \n252 ; his female companion, ib. ; his \nreasons for coming to America, 253 ; \nhis marriage relations, ib. ; General \nCourt orders his return to England, \n254 ; escapes from ofticers sent to ar- \nrest him, ib. ; finds place of conceal- \nment in the forest, ib. ; his hiding- \nplace revealed by Indians, 255 ; cap- | \ntured, ib. ; taken to Boston, 256 ; his \nletters opened by Wintlirop, 257 ; in \nfavor at Boston, 257 ; 251) ; Winthrop's \npolicy towards, 258: goes to Maine, \nib. ; obtains mitigation of Ratcliff's \npunishment, 201 ; witness for Gorges \nin attack on Mass. Bay charter, 1G32, \n2G3 e( seq. ; disappears from history, \n268 ; 275 ; 283 ; 321 ; cited in charges \nagainst Morton, 346 ; 582 ; 930. \nGardiner, Lady, wife of Sir Christopher, \n\n253. \nGardiner, Stephen, Bishop of Winches- ; \n\nter, 251. \nGates, Horatio, on \" dreaming deacons \" \nin army, 886 ; defeated at Camden, \n1780, 891. \nGay, Ebenezer, minister of Hingham, \n.sermon on submission to Stamp Act, \n840. \nGaza, 211. \nGeddes, Jennv, story of stool-throwing \n\nat St. Giles', 300. \nGeneral Court of Plymouth, Oldham \nan'l Lyford tried for conspiracy, 1624, \n187, 188. \nGeneral Court, see Mass. Bay, General \n\nCourt. \nGennison, Ancient, appointed receiver \n\nof Thomas Walford's effects, 337. \nGeorge I. of England, war with Spain, \n\n1718, 703. \nGeorge, vessel of Mass. Co., bringing set- \ntlers, arrives at Salem, 1629, 217. \nGeorge's Island, Boston Bay, 1776, 867. \nGerman emigrants to Massachusetts, \n\n17.52, 922 ; descendants of, ib. ; 923. \nGermantown, Braintree, alarm from \nBritish foraging party, 1775, 8.^7 ; colo- \nni»l militia stationed at, 860 ; 861 ; \nglass works at, 924. \nGermany, the miserable state of its \nclmrches a cause of fast-day in New \nEngland, 1637, 437 ; seventeenth cen- \ntury intellectual condition of, 506 ; \ntheory of derivation of town-meeting \nfrom \" Tun \" of, 814 ; 815. \nGerry, Elbridge, 910. \nGibbons, Ambrose, of Piscataqua, 354. \nGibbons, Capt. Edward, 333, note; 343; \nhis story in New England, 354 ; one of \nthe Mt. WoUaston Company, ib. ; his \nconversion, 355-60 ; his conduct at \n\n\nSalem, 356; fined for disorderly be- \nhavior, ib. ; marries, ib ; captain of \nBoston train- band, 357 ; suspected of \npiracy, ib. ; his wonderful deliver- \nance, 358 ; involved in La Tour's \nschemes in Acadia, 1645, ib; enter- \ntains him at Boston, ib. ; his resi- \ndence, ib. ; in command of Suttolk \nregiment, ib. ; his later military ser- \nvices, 359; Mather's account of his \ncharacter, 360 ; visit to Aquidneck to \nwarn Mrs. Hutchinson's companions, \n537 ; Underbill his guest, 1640 ; 55S ; \nmajor-general of Massachusetts, 1645, \nin Indian war, 828. \n\nGift, the ship, 243. \n\nGlasgow, Scotch General Assembly, \n1638, convened at, 306 ; Univer.sity of, \nmakes Cotton Mather, D. D., 630. \n\nGlass works at Germantown, Braintree, \n924. \n\nGloucester, England, Charles Hoar, \nsherifif of, 704 ; 700. \n\nGloucester, Mass., Lyford settles on site \nof, 190 ; 346, 912 \n\nGooch, Dr. Barnaby, treasurer of Coun- \ncil for New England, 1622 ; his share \nof New England, drawn at Greenwich, \n139. \n\nGooch, Joseph, by intrigues takes com- \nmand of Suti'olk regiment from John \nQuincy, 1742, 708 ; 715 ; offer of cap- \ntaincy to John Adams, 1st, declined, \n708, 715. \n\nGookin, Elizabeth, widow of John Eliot, \nJr., marries Edmund Quincy, 3d, 701. \n\nGookins, Daniel, removes from Virginia \nto New England, 599. \n\nGorgeana, a city founded, 1642, by Sir \nF. Gorges in Maine, judicial procedure, \n311. \n\nGorges family, their troubles with Maine \npxtent, 316 ; tliey sell the same, ib. \n\nGorges, Lord Edward, council meeting, \n1635, at his house, for redivi.sion of \nNew England, 283; territory allotted \nto, 283 ; 651, 652. \n\nGorges, Elizabeth, wife of Sir Ferdi- \nnand©, 315. \n\nGorges, Sir Ferdinando, his history and \ncliaracter, 10.5-6 ; 316-20 ; at the siege \nof Sluys, 1587, 106; at siege of Paris, \n1.589, ib. ; sent to aid of Huguenots, \n1591, ib. ; at siege of Rochelle, 317 ; re- \nfuses to give up the Neptune to Riche- \nlieu, ib. ; at siege of Rouen, 106 ; mili- \ntary governor of Plymouth, England, \nib. ; sent with Essex in expedition \nagainst Spain, 1597, ib. ; a friend and \npartisan of Essex, 107 : concerned in \nthe Es.sex treason, 1601, ib. ; his un- \nsuccessful scheme to extricate Essex, \n107-10 : his examination and testi- \nmony at trial, 111-14; his tribute to \nEssex, 115; believed by Puritans to \nhave betrayed him, 116; relea.sed from \nprison by James I., 117 ; and restored \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\n1031 \n\n\nto his position of Governor of Plyiii- \noiith, ib. ; occupied with schemes \nconceriiiiip America, ib. : takes under \nhis protection Indians carried to Eng- \nland by Weymouth, ib. ; cited as to \nbquanto's capture and captivity, 23-4, \nnotes, 45 ; relations with Popham, \n117 ; with him obtains royal patents \nfor colonization in America, lGOC-7 ; \n117-18 ; attaches himself to the Plym- \nouth Company, 118 ; his first ex- \nploring party captured by Spanish, \n1G06, ib. ; in the control of com- \npany, ib. ; his remarks on his posi- \ntion, 119; continues his trading and \nexploring ventures to America, 1608- \n20, ib. ; sends vessel to Martha's \nVineyard, 1C14, ib. ; 1G15, sends out \nvessel under command of Captain \nJohn Smith, ib. ; want of success of \nhis ventures, 119-20 ; his knowledge \nof New England, 120; its erroneous \ncharacter, ib. ; 1020, obtains charter \nsuperseding that of Plymouth Com- \npany, 121 ; his associates under char- \nter, 122; his sagacity in selection of \nthem, 124 ; the territory granted by \nnew charter, ib. ; charter assailed by \nVirginia Company, ib. ; is sustained, \n125 ; the advantage of the Puritaxi \nestablishment to, ib. ; his difficulty in \npersuading settlers to go to New Eng- \nland, ib. ; issues a patent to the Plym- \nouth colonists, ib. ; ignorant of the \nPuritan expedition, 126 ; his difficulties \nwith the English Parliament of 1621, \nib. ; summoned to answer charges of \nthe Virginia Company, 127 ; Sir Ed- \nward Coke's dislike of, 126-7 ; his ex- \namination before the House of Com- \nmons of 1621, 127-8; his answers in \nthe case, 128 ; the contention quieted, \n129 ; his scheme given a death-blow, \nib. ; informed by Trevore as to Boston \nBay, 130, note ; 1022, organizes Coun- \ncil for New England, liSl ; complaint \nagainst \"Weston, ib. ; on protection of \nfisheries, 132 ; proposes to govern in \nNew England, 133 ; recalls Robert \nGorges, 1622, 134; his knowledge of \nNew England, ib. ; 136-7, note; his \nson Robert, governor of New England, \n137 ; holds meeting at Greenwich, \nJune, 1623, to allot territory in New \nEngland, 138-9 ; his share drawn at \nmeeting, 1 39 ; his establishment for \nhis son in New England, 141 ; attached \nto Church of England, 142 ; a high \nchurchman, 222 ; his plans for a church \nin New England, 142 ; his expecta- \ntions from the 1623 colony, 143 ; his \nanger on account of Tliomas Weston, \n145; censured by Council for New \nEngland, ib. ; his colony not sup- \nported, 1623-4, 152 ; advises return of \nhis son, ib. ; 191 ; Morton's offences \nexplained to, by Plymouth magis- i \n\n\ntrates, 1628, 208 ; 210 ; contests the \ngrant made to Endicott, 213 ; his \nstruggle to preserve his territory \nthrough Oldham, 214 ; his inconsist- \nency as to trade in firearms, 221 ; his \npolicy in aiding Morton, 222-3; his \npatent endangered by Massachusetts \nCompany, 222 ; aids Allerton to obtain \npatent to lands on the Kennebec, 224 ; \n\n249 ; Morton supposed to be an emis- \nsary of, ib. ; a tool of, in England, \n\n250 ; their relations after 1630, 250 ; \nSir Christopher Gardiner supposed to \nhave been his agent in New England, \n252 ; his letters to Gardiner, opened \nby Winthrop, 257 ; a letter to Mor- \nton, among them, 258 ; aided in his \nattack on charter by Morton, Gardi- \nner, etc., 1632, 263-4; attack fails, \n266-7 ; retains Ratcliff to serve in at- \ntacks on charter, 268 ; relations with \nMorton subsequent to 1632, 268 ; 343 ; \ninfluence on Laud, 271 ; 1634, renews \nattack on charter, 271 et seq. ; influ- \nences James I. through Buckingham, \n1622, 275; through Laud, 1634, 276; \npersistent to his ruin in efforts in New \nEngland, ib. ; determination to main- \ntain his claim unimpaired, ib. ; his \nscheme of 1634, ib. ; obtains royal pa- \ntent for Commission to govern New \nEngland, 277 ; plans for going to New \nEngland as governor - general, 280; \n281 : at examination of Winslow by \nLords Commissioners, 282 ; territory \nallotted to in partition of 1635, 283; \nhopes revive, 282 ; makes new division \nof territory on New England seacoast, \n283 ; ainiounced as governor-general \nin New Englaiid, ib. ; Maverick sus- \npected because of his relations with, \n288 ; false alarm of his arrival in Bos- \nton, April, 1635, 288 ; cause of failure \nof 1635 expedition, 289-93; dubious \nprospect of his scheme, 1637, 296 ; at- \ntached to Laud's party, ib. ; his \nschemes affected by remoteness of his \ngovernment, 296-7 ; 300 ; sends by \nCleeve, 1C37, patent of government \nfor Maine, 301 ; his attitude towards \noffice of governor- general, ib.; his \nprobable policy, 302-3 ; his letter to \nWinthrop, Sept. 1637, 303 ; 305 ; 307 ; \ndefeated in assault on charter, 308 ; \nsystem for government of Maine, 309 ; \nobtains, 1C39, patent for Maine, 309, \nextent of same, ib. ; founds a city \ncalled Gorgeana, 311 ; his projects \ncome to an end, 313 ; plans royalist \nattack on Bristol, ib. ; his house oc- \ncupied by royalist forces, 1043, ib. ; \ntaken prisoner by Fairfax, 314 ; sub- \nmits to Parliament, ib. ; his title to \nMaine questioned, ib. ; Parliament \nsustains Rigby's claim to part of it, \n315 ; subsequent history of the patent, \n316 ; story of his colonists, 321 ; 342 ; \n\n\n1032 \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\nprants land at AKamenticus to Maver- \nick, 330; 331; royalist duriiiR civil \nwar, 344 ; 347 ; BuKiiaH's claim on \nRichmond Island, 3o'2 ; 373, 531), 583, \n61G ; his death, 1G47, 315. \n\nGorges, Ferdinando, grandson of Sir \nFerdiuando, sells property in Maine, \n316. \n\nGorges, Henry, father of Thomas, cousin \nof Sir Ferdinando, 310. \n\nGorges, John, son of Sir Ferdinando, \ngrants of land to Oldham, U12 ; grant \nto, 215 ; 217 ; his Liud colonized by \nEndicott's people, 2'20. \n\nGorges, Robert, son of Sir Ferdinando, \nhis colonization enterprise in New \nEngland, 105 ; unlike Tliomas Weston, \nib., 154; the probable extent of his \nterritory, 131, yiote ; his ambition in \nhis father's plantation, 133 ; enters the \nservice of Venice, ib. ; recalled by liis \nfather, ib. ; appointed governor, 153 ; \nthe establishment proposed for his \ngovernment, 135; patent for land is- \nsued to, December, 1G22, 136 ; extent \nof territory, 136 ; his efforts in col- \nlecting colony, 137 ; 13S ; wdth liis \ncolonists sails for New England, 141 ; \narrives in Boston Bay, September, \nib. ; commissioned lieutenant, ib. ; his \ncouncil, ib. ; his jurisdiction, 141-2 ; \nhis father's hopes in the colony, 143 ; \ncharacter of colonists, ib. ; 144, note ; \ntakes possession of the buildings at \nWessagusset, 144 ; announces his ar- \nrival and his authority as governor, \nib. ; starts for coast of Maine, in search \nof Weston, 144-5 ; in stress of vveatlier \ntakes shelter at Plymouth, 148 ; finds \nWeston there, ib. ; his threats to ar- \nrest him, ib. ; mollified by Bradford, \n148-9 ; discharges him, 149 ; returns \nto Wessagusset, 149-50 ; his seamen \nset fire to buildings at Plymouth, \n150 ; his ship goes to Virginia, ib. ; he \nseizes the Swan, ib. ; spends winter of \n1623-4 at Wessagusset, 151 ; Weston \nin arrest at, ib. ; spring of 1624 goes \nto Piscataqua, 152, 192 ; returns to \nEngland, 153 ; supposed to have died \nsoon after his return, 153, 154 ; his \nsettlement abandoned, 153-4 ; Puri- \ntan settlers troubled by his claim in \nNew England, 155 ; his character, ib. ; \nthe results of his attempt in Boston \nBay, 155 ; the fate of his settlement, \n156; 161, 163, 168, 184, 212; the \nMassachusetts Company seek to set \naside his grant, 216 ; his plantation on \nthe Piscataqua, increased, 236 ; 240 ; \n258 ; his expedition of 1623, 289 ; 329 ; \nstory of his Boston Bay colonists, 321 ; \nhis settlement a permanent one, 342 ; \n616. \n\nGorges, Thomas, cousin of Sir Ferdi- \nnando, sent in 1640, governor of Maine, \n309-10; visits Agamenticus, 31 1 ; diffi- \n\n\nculties with Burdett, his discipline at \nAgamenticus, retirement from govern- \nment, 311-12. \n\nGorges, William, nephew of Sir Ferdi- \nnando, appointed governor of New \nSomerset.sliire, 1635, 308 ; extent of \nhis jurisdiction, ib. : retunis to Eng- \nland, 309. \n\nGorton, Samuel, Quaker, 409, note. \n\nGouch, Ruth, disciplined at Agamenti- \ncus by Gorges, 312. \n\nGovernment by town-meeting, 810-26. \n\nGracchus, Caius Sempronius, 452. \n\nGrace, Covenant of, discussed, 403-6. \n\nGranite quarries, Quincy, their develop- \nment, 924-8. \n\nGranite railway, of Quincy, built, 1826, \n591 ; projected and constructed by \nGridley Bryant, 926. \n\nGrants of land by the Council for New \nEngland, 212 ; list of, 213 ; note ; En- \ndicott's contested by Gorges, but sus- \ntained, 213. \n\nGraves, Thomas, with the Spragues, \nfounds Charlestown, 1629, 218 ; 234. \n\nGraveyard, Quincy, its condition prior \nto 1809, 905-6 ; title to, conveyed to \ntown, 906. \n\nGray, John, an original purchaser at \nNantasket, 183. \n\nGray, Thomas, an original purchaser at \nNantasket, 183. \n\nGray, Thomas, his Elegy quoted, 716. \n\nGreat Awakening, religious revival in \nNew England, 1739, 749 ; 763. \n\nGreat Britain, Navigation Acts, 697 ; \nwar with France declared, 1756, 835 ; \nof 1793, Quincy's action in, 906 ; John \nAdams minister to, 888; treaty of \npeace with United States, 1783, 893 ; \nwar with United States, 1812-14, \n909-12 ; men-of-war on New England \ncoast, 910 ; C. F. Adams, United States \nminister to, 1861-8, 961 . See England. \n\nGreat Watt, Indian name for Bagnall, \n352. \n\nGreen, John Richard, on origin of town- \nmeeting government, 980. \n\nGreene, General Nathanael, 704. \n\nGreene, Richard, employed by Weston \n55 ; 163 ; at Plymouth, 1622. 59 ; his \nrelations with the Indians, 60 ; in \ncharge of plantation at Wessagusset, \n62 ; asks food for Wessagusset people, \n1622, ib. ; death of, ib. \n\nGreene, Robert, dramatist, on dogs in \nchurches, 745. note. \n\nGreene, William, endeavors to inform \nPlymouth of Weston's 1622 expedi- \ntion. 56 ; 57. \n\nGreenleaf, Thomas, of Quincy, rebuked \nby John Adams, 909 ; a representative \nFederalist, ib. ; leadership at Quincy, \nhis life and services to the town. 917- \n18, 920 ; 933 : moderator Quincy town- \nmeetings, 947 ; in Quincy politics, 948, \n955; 907. \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\n1033 \n\n\nQreensmith, Stephen, fined for opinion \nas to ministers under Covenant of \nWorks, -MJ. \n\nGreenwich, England, allotment of terri- \ntory in New England, June 29, 1C23, \n13S-9, 140, 141, -209, 283, 651. \n\nGridley, Jeremiah, entertains S. Quincy \nand John Adams on their admission to \nbar, 175S, 788 ; retained to support j \nmemorial for opening law-courts, 1765, \n839. I \n\nGridley, Richard, a follower of Anne j \nHutchinsou, 400. j \n\nGrievances, Parliament of 1621, 126. \n\nGrotius, Hugo, his works, in Christ \nChurch library, Quincy, 804. \n\nGrove, Mary, the companion of Sir Chris- \ntopher Gardiner, 252 ; arrested, 254 ; \ndata concerning her, 256-7, notes; i \nmarried to Thomas Purchase, 258; \nher death, ih. [ \n\nGuerriere, British ship captured by t \nConstitution, 1812, 911. ; \n\nGunpowder kept in meeting-houses, ' \n743 ; removed from Charlestown by \nGage, 1774, 850 ; from North Precinct \nmeeting-house by people, 850-1, 854. i \n\nGuns supplied to Indians by Morton, I \n195. i \n\nGurnet, Point, 38, 52. I \n\nGuy Fawkes' day at Plymouth, 1623, ; \n150. 1 \n\nHabits of life, past and present, 802-3, : \n806-9. I \n\nHaddington, Thomas Hamilton, Earl of, \nin Plymouth Company, charter of \n1620, 122. \n\nHxffue, Holland, John Adams at the, \n879. \n\nHalberd bearers, refuse attendance on \nWinthrop 1637, 461 ; prosecuted, \n509-10. \n\nHalf Moon Island, Boston Bay, 681. \n\nHalifax, British soldiers transferred \nfrom, to Boston, 1768, 847. \n\nHallam, Henry, tribute to Hudibras, 81 ; \non the Histrio-Mastix of Prynne, 262 ; \non lumber in libraries, 366-7. \n\nHamilton, James, 2d marquess, of the \nPlj-mouth Company, 122; influence at \ncourt for charter, 124 ; his share in \nNew England, partition of 1635, 233. \n\nHampden, John, in the ship-money case, \n296, 306; purchases land on Narra- \ngansett Bay, 299 ; 317, 450, 710. \n\nHancock, John, minister at Lexington, \nthen of Braintree, 616 ; ordained, 1720, \n618, 619 ; his support, 618 ; caUed \n\" Bishop,\" ib. ; father of Governor \nJohn, ib. ; cited as to Braintree meet- \ning-house, 592-3; his centennial ser- \nmon, 1739, 620 ; influence in settle- \nment of church -tax question, 1727, \n629 ; new meeting-house during his i \npastorate, 737; 748; his death, 1744, \\ \n749 ; 763 ; liis church records, 750 ; i \n\n\nchurch discipline of his pastorate, \n796. \n\nHancock, John, son of Rev. John, born, \n617, 018 ; marriage with Dorothy \nQuincy, 1775, 680-1 ; 784 ; rumored \ndeparture of, for England, 1770, 8(35 ; \nvote of Braintree for, as governor, 891 ; \n893, 898 ; approves act creating town \nof Quincy, 1792, 903 ; his name sug- \ngested for new town, 9(H. \n\nHancock Light Guard, Quincy, in \"War \nof Rebellion, 962. \n\nHancock, lot, Braintree, Josiah Quincy's \ndwelling on, 703. \n\nHancock mansion, Boston, built of \nQuincy granite, 924. \n\nHandmaid, ship, Morton sent to Eng- \nland in, 1630, 243 ; 244, note. \n\nHanging at Wessagusset, Morton's ac- \ncount of, 79-81 ; allusion to, in Hudi- \nbras, 81-2. \n\nHanson, Captain, companions of R. \nGorges in New England, 151 ; sent \nto Plymouth to arrest Weston and \nseize the Swan, ih. \n\nHard-cider political campaign, 1840, 949. \n\nHarlakendeu, Roger, at trial of Anne \nHutchinson, 495-7. \n\nHarlow, Captain Edward, Epenow kid- \nnapped by, 24-5, note ; 26. \n\nHarrison, Thomas, regicide, his head \nfastened to the hurdle of John Cook, \n376, note. \n\nHarrison, William Henry, in election of \n1838, 952. \n\nHartford, Conn., 467. \n\nHarvard College, instituted for supply- \ning ministers, 733 ; old rule for order \nof students' names in catalogue, 733 ; \n739; Stoughton Hall, 068 ; Braintree a \nbenefactor of, 767 ; its library, 804 ; \nits third president. Hoar, 704; 716; \nSamuel Willard, vice president, 1732, \n720 ; President Quincy, 856. 910 ; \nJohn Quincy graduate of, 615 ; Ebene- \nzer Miller, 1722, 621 ; Benjamin Tomp- \nson, Braintree schoolmaster, 769, 771 ; \nThomas Greeuleaf , 917. \n\nHarvest, 1621, at Plymouth, 34. \n\nHawkins, Jane, follower of Anne Hutch- \ninson, 400, and note. \n\nHaynes, John, Governor of Massachu- \nsetts Bay, 1035, 371 ; 377 ; at reconcil- \niation meeting of Dudley and Win- \nthrop, 1630 ; 379 ; superseded by \nVane, 1636, 380. \n\nHayward, Joshua, of Lord's Day com- \nmittee, Braintree meeting, 17S3, 894. \n\nHazelrig, Sir Arthur, member of Com- \nmission for Plantations under Parlia- \nmentary government, 315. \n\nHealth and disease in colonial Massachu- \nsetts, 800-1. \n\nHeaton, Nat., Dedham dog-whipper, 745, \nnote. \n\nHebrew Bible, the basis of Puritan law \nand government, 382 ei seq. \n\n\n1034 \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\nHell Gate, East River, N. Y., Dermer \nin danger of wreck in, 1619, 27 ; prox- \nimity of Auue Hutchinson's residence \nto, 537. \n\n\"Hell-huddle,\" common name for pau- \nper settlements, \"t'^l. \n\nHenry VIII., of England, 248, note ; his \ngrants of lands, tjol. \n\nHenry IV., of France at siege of Paris, \n1589, takes Gorges wounded from the \nbreach, 106; edict of Nantes, 248, \nnote. \n\nHeresies in the Boston Church, conse- \nquent on the Anne Hutchinson dissen- \nsion, 1637, 430. \n\nHessian soldiers at Saratoga, 874. \n\nHighways of Braintree, 666-79. \n\nHigginson, Rev. Francis, cited, 173. \n\nHigh connnission of England, 278 ; the \nGeneral Court likened to, 444. \n\nHill, Isaac, New Hampshire politician, \n946. \n\nHilton, Edward, of Dover, New Hamp- \nshire, Winthrop's letter to, concern- \ning Uuderhill, 554. \n\nHiltons, of Dover, 201. \n\nHinghani, Mass., formerly Bear Cove, \n338 ; 304, 582 ; church of, established, \n1035, 580; Peter Hobart, minister, \n1040, 595; Lemuel Briant dies at, \n1754, 041 ; coast road from Newbury \nto, 066 ; Rev. John Norton, third pas- \ntor of, 707 ; 717 ; nieetiiig-hou.se seats \nappropriated to negro servants and \nIndians, 738, note; to English boys, \nih. ; overseers appointed, ib. ; minis- \nter's sermon on submission to Stamp \nAct, 840 ; provisions for defence, war \nof 1812, 912. \n\nHinsdale, Mrs., under ordeal of relating \nreligious \" experience,\" 753. \n\nHoar, Charles, sheriff of Gloucester, \nEngland, 704. \n\nHoar, Joanna, widow of Charles, comes \nto New England, 704 ; dies, 1061, bur- \nied at Braintree, her offspring, 705. \n\nHoar, Joanna, daughter of Charles and \nJoanna, first wife of Edmund Quincy, \n3d, 701; her history, 704-6; her de- \nscendants, 705 ; 700. \n\nHoar, Leonard, third president of Har- \nvard, 704 ; his wife and mother buried \nwith him at Braintree, ib. ; Marshall \nmends monument to, 718. \n\nHoar, Margery, wife of Henry Flynt, \nburied in Quincy, 604 \\ her progeny, \n605. \n\nHobamack, Indian, friend to the Plym- \nouth colonists, 33; Corbitant quar- \nrels with, ib.; land allotted to, at \nPlymouth, ib. ; regarded a rival by \nSquanto. 37 ; who plots to undermine \nhim, 37-40; he excites suspicion of \nSquanto's loyalty, 37 ; accompanies \nWinslow on visit to Massasoit, March, \n1023, 72 ; informed by Massasoit of \nplot to destroy Wessagusset, 73 ; ac- \n\n\ncompanies Standish on expedition to \n' Wessagusset, 90 ; his part in fight \nj with Aberdecest, 94. \n! Hobart, Daniel, of Braintree, 907. \nj Hobart, Peter, of Hingham, 595. \n! Hobson, Captain, commands vessel sent \nj to Martha's Vineyard in 1014, 119. \nI Holbrook, Sanmel, moderator of Brain- \ntree meeting, 1783, for consideration \nI of Lord's Day, 894. \nHolderness, Earl of, Casco Bay, his \nshare of New England at Greenwich \npartition, 1023, 139. \nHolland, John, of Dorchester, his ferry \n\nacross Neponset, 1035, 069-70. \nHolland, the Pilgrims in, 45, 75. \nHolmes, Obadiah, cited as to Wilson's \n\ntreatment of Quakers, 408, note. \nHolmes, Oliver Wendell, poem, \" Doro- \nthy Q.,\" 005. \nHolmes family, descendants of \" Doro- \nthy Q.,\" 005. \nHook, Walter Farquhar, on religious in- \ntolerance of Pr.ritans, 248, note. \nHooker, Rev. Tliomas, 377 ; one of com- \nmittee for reconciliation between \nDudley and Wintlirop, 1636, 379 ; 466 ; \nj pastor of church at Cambridge, 484. \nj Hopkins, Ann, considered crazy by \nI Winthrop, 399. \n\nI Hopkins, Stephen, joint ambassador to \nMassasoit frcJm Plymouth colony, \ni 1021,30. \n\nj Hospitals, Quincy, 1792, 900. \nI Hough, Atlierton, a resident of Mount \n' Wollaston, 415 ; not in sympathy with \nminister Wilson, 420 ; elected to Gen- \nI eral Court by freemen of Boston, \n! 1037, 455 ; election set aside, ib. ; re- \nelected, 450 ; 475 ; made respon.sible \nfor Wheelwriglit's keep while remain- \ning in Mass., 481 ; 508 ; acquires ter- \nritory at Wessagusset, 1034,583; his \nname preserved in Hough's Neck, \nQuincy Bay, 025. \nHough's Neck. William Veazie's farm \nat, 625; corruption of name, ib., note. \nHouses, at Braintree, seventeenth cen- \ntury, 680-4. \nHouse of Commons, England, Revenue \n\nBill of 1707, 840. \nHowe, Lord, killed at Ticonderoga, 1758, \n\n836. \nHowes, Edward, letter to J. Winthrop, \nJr., cited, 259, note. \nI Hudibras, Hallam's tribute to, 81 ; story \nj of the Wessagusset hanging in, 81-2. \nHudson river, Mrs. Hutchinson's resi- \ndence at mouth of, 538. \nHue's Cross, renamed Hue's Folly, 339. \nHuguenots at Rochelle, English expedi- \ntion for relief of, 1591, 100 ; 317. \nHull, Isaac, Captain, U. S. N., break- \nI fasts with Josiah Quincy, 1812, 911 ; \nI 912. \n\nj Hull, John, at marriage of Daniel Quin- \ncy, 700. \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\n1035 \n\n\nHull, Mrs., at Daniel Quiucy's wedding, \\ \n706. j \n\nHull, Rev. Joseph, minister at Wey- ' \nmouth, 1635, 340 ; 3(38. I \n\nHull, Mass.. the Plymouth people estab- ' \nlish a trading station at, ItJO ; settle- \nment at, 1622, 183 ; population of, j \n1627, 193 ; 229 ; passengers from the , \nMary & John landed at, 232 ; military ' \nstation at, 1776, 874. [ \n\nHume, David, on authority of royal j \nproclamations, 202 ; 203 ; on writings \nof Sir Harry Vane, 373. | \n\nHumphrey, John, an early settler of ; \nSwampscott, 265, note; scandal in | \nN. E. , caused by his daughters, ib. ; \nin defence of Mass. Bay charter, 265 ; \n278, 282, 286, 347. \n\nHumphrey, Lady Su^an, 266, note. \n\nHunt, John, of Braintree, 832 ; 835. \n\nHunt, Mrs. Ruth, at Mrs. Edmund \nQuincy's funeral, 1700, 679. \n\nHunt, Captain Thomas, 1614, kidnapper \nof Indians, 7 ; capture of Squanto, \n23 ; 24, 25, 31-2. \n\nHunt's Hill, Mass., site of Wessagusset, \n61, note. \n\nHuskuig at Dedham, 1767, 791. \n\nHutchinson, Anne, controversy excited \nby, 1637, 331 ; comes to Xew England, \n1634, 370 ; 371 ; her house the intel- \nlectual centre of Boston, 381 ; her in- \ntelligence and wit, described by Weld, \nih. ; disturbs the peace of Boston, ih. ; \nher revolt against the oligarchy, ih. ; \none of her adherents frozen to death, \n388-9 ; said to have been a cousin to \nJohn Dryden, 392 ; her home in Eng- \nland, 393 ; her personal appearance, \nib. ; her religious emotions, ib. ; her \ncourse towards the New England \nclergy, 395 ; her early career at Bos- \nton, 397 ; her residence, ib. ; her \nweekly female meetings, 397, 398 ; her \nvisions, 399 ; the growtli of her influ- \nence in Boston, 397-400 ; her follower \nJane Hawkins, 400, and note; shows \npublicly contempt for Boston preach- \ners, 401 ; her discrimination between \nthe Covenant of Grace and of Works, \n402 ; dislike of Rev. Jolm Wilson, 407 ; \nher quarrel with him, 1636, 410 et \nseq. ; Cotton and Wheelwright her fa- \nvorite preachers, 411 ; supported by \nVane, ib.; intimates Wilson to be un- \nder Covenant of Works, 412 ; her par- \nty his opponents, 412 : advanced re- \nligious tenets, 413 ; her revolt against \nWilson, 418 ; her friends try to prevent \nVane's resignation of governorship, \n422 ; in December, 1636, summoned \nbefore magistrates and clergy, 420 ; \n\n^account of conference, 426-8 ; her re- \nlations with Cotton and Vane, 1G37, \n430 ; name Atitinomian misapplied to, \n435 ; the religious piiase of struggle, \nbetween her and Wilson, 436 ; loved \n\n\nin Boston, hated in churches outside, \nih. ; not fully sympathized with by \nWheelwright, ih. ; her effect on his \nreputation, ib. ; derisive names given \nher, 437 ; Wheelwright's 1637 fast-day \nsermon preconcerted with her, 438 ; \nher opponents in control of churches, \n442 ; difficulties with Wilson not ad- \njusted. May, 1G37, 451 ; her adherents \nin minority in General Court, 1637, \n456 ; her brother-in-law comes to Bos- \nton, 1637, 459; her weekly meetings \nvoted disorderly by Synod of 1637, 474 ; \ndisregards the decision of Synod of \n\n1637, 475 ; her exile determined on by \nmagistrates, 476 ; 479, 481 ; arraigned \nby General Court, 483 ; great interest \nin her trial, 486 ; her condition and de- \nmeanor at trial, 487 ; her offence stated \nby Winthrop, 489 ; her defence, ib. ; \nher altercation with Winthrop, 490 ; \ncharged with discriminating between \nCotton and other ministers, 491 ; de- \nvelopment of character of trial, 492 ; \ndemands testimony under oath, 494 ; \ncalled on to produce testimony, 496 ; \nher first witness browbeaten, ih. ; \nher unfortunate speech to the court, \n499-501 ; hopes delivery by special \nprovidence, 502 ; her case injured by \nher conduct of it, 497 ; charged by \nDudley as possessed of the devil, 505 ; \nbanished by General Court, 508 ; du- \nration of her trial, 509 ; permitted to \nremain at Roxbury imtil spring of \n\n1638, ih. ; 511; beset at Roxbury by \nministers, 512 ; banished for tradu- \ncing ministers, 513 ; her life at Rox- \nbury, 1637-8, ib. ; abandoned by Cot- \nton, 514 ; found to be the root of all \ndissensions, 515 ; indicted by the \nchurch, ib. ; permitted to leave Rox- \nbury to appear before the church, \n516 ; proceedings begun March, 1638, \nib. ; cause of excitement, ih. ; the im- \nportance of an excommunication, 517 ; \nappears before cliurch, 518 ; her de- \nnunciation of Wilson, ib. ; her at- \ntempt at vindication, ih. ; effect of \nDavenport's remarks upon her, 519 ; \ndeprived of advocacy of her son and \nson-in-law, 520 ; posed with a charge \nof inclining to doctrine of community \nof women, 5\"22, note; persuaded by \nCotton and Davenport, confesses her \nerrors to the church, 523 ; a humilia- \ntion to Wilson to be ignored bj' her, \n524 ; attacked by Shepard, 525 ; her \nconfession not sufficient, recantation \nrequired, 527 ; victim of inquisition, \n528 ; 529 ; charged with lying, 529 ; \n530 ; excommunicated, 531 ; 532 ; the \npublic feelinsr at Boston in her favor \nand against Winthrop, 533-4 ; the sto- \nry of her subsequent history. .533-9 ; \n1637, her faction dispersed, 535; her \nphysical trials, ib. , and note ; remains \n\n\n1036 \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\nin her own house after excoramuiiica- \ntiou, 53G ; 1CkJ8, warrant issued for \nher removal from Mass. Bay, ib. ; \ngoes to Aqiiidueck, R. I., 530-7 ; pur- \nsued by intolerant authorities of Bos- \nton church, 537 ; IW-', her husband \ndies, ib. ; removes to Manhattan Is- \nland, ib. ; slain by Indians, 538 ; ber \nmisfortunes and death complacently \nregarded by Boston church, ib. ; her i \ndaughter redeemed from Indian cap- \ntivity, ib. ; her fate contrasted with \nWheelwright's, 539 ; 540, &42, 54G, \n547, 548, 552, 55G, 559, 5G3 ; her career \nin New England, typical of the times, \n560 ; 507, 5G8, 509, 570, 571, 572, 573, \n574, 570. \n\nHutchinson, Edward of Alford, his \ndaughter Mary marries John Wheel- \nwright, 370. \n\nHutchinson, Mrs. Edward, mother of \nWilliam, and Mrs. Wheelwright, shares \nexile with Wheelwright, and dies in \nMaine, 539. \n\nHutchinson, Edward, refractory Boston \nsergeant, fined by General Court, 510 ; \nfine remitted on condition of his leav- \ning colony, ib. \n\nHutchinson, Mary, daughter of Edward, \nthe wife of John Wheelwright, 370. \n\nHutchinson, Samuel, assaulted by \nThomas Dexter, 200. \n\nHutchinson, Samuel, brother of William, \ncomes to Boston, 459 ; ordered to re- \nmove from Mass. Bay under the alien \nlaw, 460 ; 403. \n\nHutchinson, Governor Tliomas, cited as \nto Gorges' projects for New England, \n319 ; as to Blackstone's removal from \nBoston, 323 ; as to the basis of New \nEngland law, 348, note; 508; as to \ndispersion of colonial army, 1750, 8.50 ; \ncomments on Boston's call for con- \nvention, 1708, 847 ; on increase of pop- \nulation in America, 089 ; leaves Amer- \nica, 1774, 850. \n\nHutchinson, William, with his wife \nAnne, comes to New England, 370 ; \nbrother-in-law of Wheelwright, 381 ; \nhis character, ib. ; allotted lands at \nMount WoUaston, by General Court, \n1636-7, 300, and note ; seen by his wife \nin a vision, in the governor's chair, \n399 ; 415, 459, 508 ; death of, 1042, 537. \n\nHyde, Nicholas, a warrant for Morton, \nissued by, 246. \n\nImmorality, colonial times, 783-99. \n\nImpressments, 1090, fail at Qiiiucj', 830 ; \nunwillingness in Massachusetts to \nsubmit to, 875, 892. \n\nIndependents, religious party, 248, note. \n\nIndians, kidnapped by traders on New \nEngland coast, 5-7 ; pestilence among, \n101(;-7, 1^, 9-12; described prior to \npestilence, 9 ; mhabit islands in Bos- \nton Bay, ib. ; make friends with Wes- \n\n\nton's party of 1622, 60 ; fear of colo- \nnists overcome, ib. ; complain of ill- \nusage from same, 01 ; on Cape Cod, \nsupply crew of Swan with food, 63 ; \nattacked by pestilence, 1022, 04; \nrobbed by Wessagusset people, ib. ; \n05, GO ; conspiracy to destroy Wessa- \ngusset settlement, 73, 85-0 ; probable \neffect of the success, on Plymouth, \nib. ; treatment of Weston's people, \ntime of 1023 famine, 77 ; 78 ; their suf- \nferings from Weston's people, ib. ; \nthey surmise the purpose of Standish's \nvisit to Wessagusset, 91 ; their plot \nprevented by him, 92-5 ; his captives \nconfined in the Plymouth fort, 98; \nthe historical treatment of, by the \nwhites, 100 ; the propriety of Stand- \nish's conduct toward them, 101 ; a \nwidespread conspiracy fails, 101-2; \n811; their warfare contrasted with \nthat of civilized nations, 102; their \nfear of Standish, 103 ; wholly demor- \nalized after Wessagusset affair, 104; \nat mouth of Merrimack strip Thomas \nWeston, 146; desire spirits and fire- \narms, 194-5 ; engage in fur trade with \nMorton, 194 et seq. ; ally themselves \nwith him, 195 ; act as his guides and \nhuntsmen, ib. ; effect of Morton's \ndealings on, 197 ; dangers of trade in \nspirits and guns with, 199 ; bewailed \nby Bradford, ib. ; number of weapons \nsupplied to, 200; Morton's dealings \nwith, 245 ; reveal hiding-place of Gar- \ndiner, 255 ; their friendly relations \nwith Blackstone, 327 ; remnants of \nMassachusetts tribe in 1030, 363 ; sur- \nvivors, 1037, 581 ; five carried off by the \ndevil, 389 ; massacre of Mrs. Hutchin- \nson and family by, August, 1642, 538 ; \nland titles in New England derived \nfrom, 653 ; provision in Hingham \nmeeting-house, for .seating, 738, vote ; \nwars of, in Massachusetts, 827-30 ; \ntheir trail along the coast of Boston \nBay, 581 ; Casco tribe, party of, mur- \nder Bagnall, 352-3 ; Black Will, one of \nLynn tribe, hanged for murder of Bag- \nnall, 3.53 ; massacre in Virginia, March \n22, 1022, 74. \n\nIndustries at Braintree, prior to 1825, \n923 et seq. \n\nInhabitant, colonial definition of word, \n047. \n\nInsane, old-time treatment of, 724 et \nseq. \n\nInstitutions of New England, origin of, \ntraced to primitive systems of Europe, \n814, 815. \n\nInstruction, Quincy schools, 935-7. \n\nIntern ))erance in colonial New England, \n783-99 ; among clergy, 792. \n\nIntolerance in religious matters at Sa- \nlem, 1630, 230-1. \n\nIreland, troubles in, of more importance \nthan New England affairs to Charles \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\n1087 \n\n\nI., 275; 1d37, Wentworth ant? Laud \niu affairs of, 297 ; Strongbow's land \nsystem, Go'J ; srheiiie ior quartering \nsoldiers from, at Boston, 1706, 847. \n\nIrish uames little kuowu iu colonial \nBraintree, 923 ; in population of \nQuiucy, 04G, 948, 954, 957, 958, 959, \n9t)0 ; dislike of Charles Fraucis Adams, \ndefeat his election by intrigue, 958. \n\nIrocoise, i. e., Iroquois Lake, name \nformerly given Lake Charaplain, 120. \n\nJion wedges, proved serviceable for split- \nting granite, Quiucy, 1803, 925. \n\nIrou-works, provisiou for encouraging, \nat Braintree, 1G44, 646; establislied \nby John Wiuthrop, Jr., 673; site of, \nin contention with Vinton, 831-4 ; \nScotch workmen at, 922 ; fate of en- \nterprise, 923. \n\nIroquois, Lake, name formerly given \nLake Champlain, 120. \n\nIsle of Rhe expedition, 162G, command- \ned by Buckingham, 115. \n\nJackson, Andrew, liis party without \nfoothold at Quincy, 916; 946, 947, \n950, 951, 955, 9G8. \n\nJackson, William M., opposes J. Q. \nAdams' election, 1838, 952. \n\nJackson famil)', descendants of \" Doro- \nthy Q.,\" G05. \n\nJacobite in Braintree, 1G96, 625 ; \n\nJamaica rum, sold in New England, 786, \n790. \n\nJames I. of England, submission of In- \ndian sachems to, 16 ; 45 ; restores the \nassociates of Essex to favor, 116-17 ; \n1C06, grants patents to the London \nand Plymouth Companies, 117-18 ; \n1620, grants a new patent to the Plym- \nouth Company, 121-4; contention \nover subsidies with the House of Com- \nmons, 1621, 129; adjourns and dis- \nsolves Parliament, ib. ; attends Green- \nwich meeting for partition of New \nEngland, 138 ; represents Duke of \nBuckingham, 139; 141; proclamation \nof 1622, forbidding trade in fire-arms \nin New England, 195 ; Morton denies \nauthority of proclamation, 202 ; its au- \nthority discussed, 202-3 ; Gorges' influ- \nence on, 275 ; his Book of Sports, 336 ; \naffair with the Scotch ministers, 424 ; \ngrants to Virginia Companies, C51. \n\nJames II. of England, 701. \n\nJamestown, Virginia, Dermer passes \nwinter of 1619 at, 27 ; Indian massa- \ncre of March 22, 1022, 74. \n\nJefferson, Thomas, 945. \n\nJeffreys, Lord George, Judge, executes \nLady Alice Lisle, 705. \n\nJeffreys, William, one of R. Gorges' \ncolonists, remains at Wessagusset, \nafter 1624, IGl ; 252 ; commnnicates \nto Wintlirop letter from Morton, \n1634, 285 ; 295 ; the letter cited in \ncharges of Court of Assistants, 1644, \n\n\nI 347 ; a leading man of Wessag-isset, \n\n338; 342. \nI Jenuer, Rev. Thomas, at Weymouth, 341. \nJennisou, William, declines to vote at \nI trial of Anne Hutchinson, 508. \n\nI Jewett, Rev. , minister at Rowley, \n\nt 1755, 677. \n\nj Jezebel, the American, name given \nI Anne Hutchinson by Massachusetts \nI clergy, 437, 538, 573. \nJohn, of England, 700. \n! John of Leyden, 395. \nJolni, Sagamore, son of Nanepashemet, \n\n217. \nJohn and Francis, ship of the Council \n\nfor New England, 232. \nJonathan, ship, David Thompson comes \n\nto Maine in, 146. \nJohnson, Lady Arbella, wife of Isaac, \n\none of Winthrop's party, 1630, 234; \n\nher death, 1G30, 237 ; 241, 265. \nJohnson, Captain Edward, of Woburn, \n\ncited as to David Thompson, 192 ; \n\nGibbons' military qualities, 359-60; \n\nas to the farms of Bostonians, G46. \nJolmson, Isaac, of Winthrop's party, \n\n1G30, 234; death of, 1G30, 237; at \n\nMorton's examination by magistrates, \n\n241. \nJohnson, Samuel, Auchinleck's remark \n\nto, 126 ; verses on Robert Levet, cited, \n\n714. \nJohnson, Sergeant, overseer of galleries \n\nin Boston meeting-house, 1643, 736. \nJonson, Ben, 390. \nJosselyn, John, visits America, 1638, 331, \n\nhis account of entertainment by Mav- \nerick on Noddle's Island, ih. ; 332 ; \n\nreturn to England, ib. \nJosselyn, Sir Thomas, father of John, \n\n331. \nJudith, Point, Narragansett Ba}', named \n\nfor Judith Quincy, 700. \nJurisdiction conferred on Plymouth \n\nCompany by the 1620 charter, 123-4 ; \n\nof Robert Gorges, in his colony, 141- \n\n2. \nJuxon, Bishop William, made Lord \n\nTreasurer of England by Laud, 297 ; \n\n304. \n\nKeayne, Captain Robert, his quarrel \nwith Goodwife Sherman, 456 ; 511. \n\nKelso, Scotland, battle at, 1G39, 307. \n\nKennebec, river, Plymouth people es- \ntablish a trading station at, 54 ; IGO ; \n1629, they seek a patent for. 223 ; the \nPopham colony on, 1607-8, 118; \nsouthern limit of Gorges' province in \nMaine, 1C37, 301; 309; Morton's fur \ntrade on the, 351 ; a53. \n\nKieft, William, governor of New Am- \nsterdam, 1642, 508. \n\nKing, prayers for, Christ Church, Brain- \ntree, 1776, 852. \n\nKing George, sliip of war, Braintree \nmen serve on, 1758 ; 836. \n\n\n1038 \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\nKing's Bench Court, decides question \nof legal autliority of royal proclauia- \ntiou, 202 ; quo uarranio tiled in, 103.\"), \nagain jt Mass. Bay Company, 'i'Jl ; re- \nsult of proceedings, 'Zb'l ; 2%, 238, \n302 303. \n\nKing's Chapel, Boston, G21 ; built of \nQuincy granite, 1T4'J, 924, method of \nprepiring stone for, 92o. \n\nKing Philip's war, 827. \n\nKingman, Henry, his ferry across the \nMonatiquot, 1G3G, G72 ; his tavern, ib., \n073. \n\nKinsley, Stephen, one of Bi-aintree's \nfirst delegates to General Court, 589. \n\nKirk, John, employed by J. Q. Adams, \n931. \n\nKnight, Walter, one of three original \nproprietors of Nantasket, 183. \n\nKnights of Labor, interferefiice in Quin- \ncy town-meeting, 1887, 990 et seq. \n\nKnipperdolling, Bernhard, Anabaptist \nfanatic, 395. \n\nKnowles, Jolin, of Watertown goes a \nmissionary to Virginia, 597. \n\nKuow-Nothing political party, support \nof, at Quincy, 958-9 ; 99G, 1006. \n\nKnox, General Henry, 7G4. \n\nKnox, John, discussion with Mary Stu- \nart, 383. \n\nLaconia, name of region about Lake \nIroquois, or Champlain, 120. \n\nLake of the Woods, 122. \n\nLancashire, England, William Tompson \nresigns living in, 596. \n\nLand allotment system of Mass. B.iy \ncolony, 585-6. \n\nLand titles derived from Indians, 653. \n\nLander, John, disciplined at Agameuti- \ncus by Gorges, 312. \n\nLaugbourue, Mijor, receipt given him \nby John A'lams for creating a New \nEngland in Virginia, 732, 764, 783. \n\nLa Sensible, French frigate, John \nAdams returns from France in, 1779, \n887. \n\nLatin School, Boston, support derived \nfrom sale of lauds to Braintree, 651. \n\nLa Tour d'Aulnay, his operations in \nAcadia, 358 ; visits Boston, ib. \n\nLaud, William, Archbishop of Canter- \nbury, 247, 248, note, 2o0 ; responsi- \nble for Star Chamber punishment of \nPrynne, 262 ; made Archbishop, 1C33, \n271 ; his war against Puritanism, ib. ; \nhis influence in Star Chamber, ib. ; in- \nfluenced by Gorges, ib. ; 276, 278 ; \n1634, attends to affairs in New Eng- \nland, 273 ; in Gorges' sclieme of 1634, \nfor government of New England, 277 ; \nhis anger caused by Ratcliff 's account \nof religious alfairs at Boston, 279 ; \n281 ; examination of Winslow, 1635, \n282,286; 290, 291, 292; his suprem- \nacy in 1637, 2% ; the extent of his \npowers and activities, 297 ; Went- \n\n\nworth's letter to, on tax for army, \n299 ; effect of his interference in \nScotch Cliurch, 299 e/ seq.; rejection \nof his liturgy in Edinburgh, 300 ; pre- \nsides, 1638, meeting of Lords Com- \nmissioners, 304 ; 306 ; Scotcli troubles \ndivert his attention from New Eng- \nland, 307 ; 313 ; prisoner in Tower, \n315; 318, 347, 373; in.sulted at liis \ntrial by Hugli Peters, 375 ; his prac- \ntices repeated by Puritans in New \nEngland, 446 ; 470 ; his methods and \nWinthrop's compared, 489 ; arguments \nfor defence of, 561 ; persecutes Puri- \ntans in Englajid, 5t)3 ; 570. \n\nLaw courts, Mass. Bay, memorial for \nopening, 1765, 810. \n\nLaw of New England, founded on the \nBible, 348. \n\nLawrence, James, U. S. N., commander \nof tlie Cliesapeake, his departure from \nBoston harbor to engage the Shan- \nnon, 911. \n\nLawyers, discontent with, in Massachu- \nsetts, alleged a cause of rebellion, \n1786, 897. \n\nLeither manufacture, Quincy, 928. \n\nLecliford, Thomas, remark concerning \nBlackstone and Williams, 306, note ; \nhis Plain Dealing cited as to marriage \nand funeral customs at Boston, 396. \n\nLegal tender act of Missachusetts, 1780, \n892 ; repealed, 1781, ib. \n\nLegaree, Daniel, 824. \n\nLeg;e, Jolin, ordered whipped by Gen- \neral Court, 1631, 337. \n\nLeighton, Alexxn ler, punished by Star \nChamber, 262, note. \n\nLenox, William Cavendish, Dake of, \nassociated with Gorges in Plymouth \nCompany, charter of 1620, 122 ; his \ninfluence at court in favor of charter, \n124 ; at meetings of the Council for \nNew England, 1622, 131 ; one of eight \nto receive land by partition of 1635, \n283. \n\nLenthal, R-iv. Robert, a rival of Rev. \nHull's, 1637, in ministry of church at \nWeymouth, 341 ; disciplined by Gen- \neral Court, ib. \n\nLeo X., Pope, 563. \n\nLetetrs, rates of postage on, 1795, 804. \n\nLevett, Christopher, with R. Gorges, at \nPiscataqua, 1624, 152 ; 192. \n\nLeverett, Thomas, elder of Boston \nchurcl), at examination of Anne \nHutchinson, 426-8 ; testifies for Anne \nHutchinson, 496 ; at church trial of \nMrs. Hutchinson, 524. \n\nLexington, battle, character of fighters \nat, 765 ; 852, 855, 856, 858, 879. \n\nLey, James, Lord, comes to New Eng- \nland. 1637,301 ; entertained by Maver- \nick, 331 ; 462. \n\nLeyden, John of, 395. \n\nLeyden, the Dutch home of the Pil- \ngrims, 46, 47, 50. \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\n1039 \n\n\nLiberty tree, Braintree, 17CG, 844-5. \n\nLibraries, lumber in, 3GG-7 ; in Massa- \nchusetts, 804. \n\nLibrary, Quincy, Christ Church, 1701 ; \ngilt of Society for Propagation of tlie \nGospel, G'2-J, 804; free public hbrary \nestablished, 1871, 940-1. \n\nLilbourue, Joliu, puuished by Star \nChamber, 'M'2, note. \n\nLincoln, Abraham, presidential cam- \npaign of, 1800, 959 ; 1864, 9G0 ; 901. \n\nLincoln, Benjamin, General, 704 ; ini- \npopularity after Shays' rebellion, 898. \n\nLincoln, Bridget, Countess of, Dudley's \nletter to, concerniug Morton, 1G9 ; 240, \n484, '250, note. \n\nLincoln, Levi, Governor of Mass., 946. \n\nLincoln, Thomas, 3d Earl of, father of \nLady Arbella Johnson, 234 ; of tlie \nwife of John Humphrey, 205 ; 280. \n\nLincolnshire, England, its contribution \nof men to New England, 308 ; 539. \n\nLindsay, Bisliop, in St. Giles', Edin- \nburgh, Stoniefield day, 1037, 300. \n\nLion, the ship, 250, note. \n\nLisle, Lady Alice, mother of Bridget, \nwife of President Hoar, 704-5 ; exe- \ncuted by Jeffreys, 1085, ib. ; commem- \norated in picture, ib. \n\nLisle, Bridget, daughter of John and \nLady Alice, wife of Leonard Hoar, \nburied at Braintree, 704. \n\nLisle, John, father of Bridget, 704. \n\nLisle, Belgium, Gorges prisoner at, 100. \n\nLiterary culture in New England, 390. \n\nLittle Harbor, Maine, house built by \nDavid Thompson at, 192. \n\nLittle James, pinnace, mutiny on, 154. \n\nLittleworth, Captain, Morton's name for \nEndicott, 228 ; 347. \n\nLiturgy, prepared by Laud for Scotch \nChurch, rejected, 300, 302. \n\nLivingstone, David, 327. \n\nLocke, John, his works in houses ot the \ncolonial gentry, 805. \n\nLog-cabin political campaign, 1840, 949. \n\nLondon, plague, 1 ; Essex insurrection \nof 1601, 108-11 ; its sanitary condi- \ntion, 1030, 235. \n\nLondon Company, incorporated by royal \npatent, 1006, 118. \n\nLong Asliton, Sir F. Gorges' country \nseat, occupied by royalist forces, 313, \ncaptured by Prince Rupert, ib. ; re- \ntaken by Fairfax, 314 ; Gorges dies \nat, 1647, 315. \n\nLongevity in colonial Massachusetts, \n800-1. \n\nLongfellow, H. W., The Courtship of \nMiles Standish, its accuracy dis- \ncussed, 94-5. \n\nLong Island, Boston Bay, 464; descent \non, by colonial militia, July 9, 1775, \n861 ; 867. \n\nLong Island, N. T., battle, 874. \n\nLong Island Sound, explored by Der- \nmer, 1019, 27 ; 828. \n\n\nLong Parliament, 115,373, 563,701 ; dis- \npersed, 800. \n\nLong Wharf, Boston, 453. \n\nLord-bishops and lord- brethren, Black- \nstone's remark, 382. \n\nLords Commissioners of Plantations, \nWinslow's business with, 1634, 280; \nexamination of Winslow by, 282 ; pro- \nject, 1635, for recovery of New Eng- \nland from Puritans, 284 ; establish- \nment of, announced to Mass. Bay, \n1634, 286 ; review of origin and policy \nof the board, 295-6 ; Laud's control \nof, 298 ; provisional government for \nNew Enghind ordered by, 1637, 301 ; \nissue a second command for tlie Mass. \nBay charter, April, 1638, 304; at \nBoston, 305; superseded by Parlia- \nment, 315. \n\nLord's Day, Braintree meeting to con- \nsider law defining Sunday, 894. \n\nLouis XIV. of France, 248, note. 270, \n476, 561. \n\nLouis XV. of France, 616. \n\nLouis XVI. of France, 318. \n\nLovell's Grove, Weymouth, Mass., 61, \nnote. \n\nLovell's Island, Boston Bay, fortifica- \ntion proposed, 1770, 807. \n\nLowell family, descendants of \"Doro- \nthy Q.,\" 605. \n\nLoyola, Ignatius, and Hugh Peters com- \npared, 565. \n\nLucas, Henry, minister of Christ \nChurch, Braintree, 627; removes to \nNewbury, ih. \n\nLuddam, , a guide, 339. \n\nLuddam's Ford, 339. \n\nLudden, B?njamin, of Braintree, 832. \n\nLudgate, London, tlie limit of Essex in- \nsurrection, 108, 109, 110. \n\nLudlow, Robert, overseer of Castle Is- \nland fortification, 284. \n\nLunt, Rev. William Parsons, minister \nof Quincy Church, cited as to investi- \ngation of Lemuel Briant, 639 ; hia \ndeath in Arabia, 1857, 641. \n\nLuther, \"^'artin, term Antinomian coined \nby, 432 ; 434, 563. \n\nLyford, John, 183 ; comes to New Eng- \nland, 1623, 184 ; an Episcopal clergy- \nman, ib. : his reception at Plymouth, \n185 ; with Oldham, becomes centre of \ndiscontents, ib. ; letters to England \nopened by Bradford, ib. ; proposes tlie \nreformation of Plymouth church, 186 ; \ncharged with conspiracy, 187 ; ordered \nto leave Plymouth, 188 ; his letter in- \ntercepted, ib. ; his private life not ex- \nemplary, 189 ; exiled to Wessagusset, \n190; established p.t Nantasket, ib. : \nremoves to Cape Ann, ib. ; settles on \nthe site of Gloucester, ib. ; removes \nto Virginia, where he dies, 190 ; 215, \n232, 257. \n\nLvgonia claim to Maine, see Plough \nPatent, 314, \n\n\n1040 \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\nLynde family, in possession of Thoiiip- | \nson's Island, ItJGG, 34l*. i \n\nLynn, Mass., G77 ; Samuel Whiting min- 1 \nister of, 773 ; a shoemaking centre, 930. \n\nLyon, Henry, puniuhed by Court of As- ! \nsistants, '20'J, note. \n\nLyon, the ship, 33'J. \n\nMacaulay, T. B., concerning Barclay \nand Cliaruock plot, G25 ; story of \nLady Alice Lisle, 705 ; 725. \n\nMadison, James, Ids administration sup- \nported by Jolni Adams, 909 ; 945. \n\nMagistrates of Massachusetts Bay, first ! \nmeeting of, at Charlestown, 1G30, 240 ; j \nthe members of, 241 ; their character, \nib. ; banish Thomas Morton, 242 ; 1 \nvisit Plymouth and Wessagusset, 1G32, \n338 ; not amenable to church for offi- \ncial acts, 513. \n\nMagna Charta, signed by Saer de Quincy, \n700. \n\nMagualia Christi Americana. See Cot- \nton Mather. \n\nMaine, visited by Dermer, 1619 ; 25-6 ; \nby the ship Sparrow, 1G22, 51 ; win- \nter, 1G22-3, by Saunders, in Swan, to \nget food for Wessagusset, 68 ; Pop- \nham's colony in, 1607-8, 118 ; Thomas \nWeston flees to, in disguise, 14C ; \nsome of R. Gorges' colonists go to, \n154 ; trade in fire-arms on coast of, \n195 ; the northern limit of Gorges' \nprojected colony, 1634, 276; aUotted \nto Sir F. Gorges, partition of It 35, \n283; limits of Gorges' province, in, \n301; 308; patented to Gorges, 1CS9, \n309; title questioned, 1643, 314; \nRigby's claim sustained by Parlia- \nment, 315 ; subsequent history of \nGorges' part, 316; Morton visits, 1C44, \n345 ; Rigby's territory in, ih. ; Wheel- \nwright, 1641, takes re^rge in, 539; \nMassachusetts expeditious to, Revo- \nlution, 884. \n\nManawet Indian kidnapped by Hunt, \n24, note. \n\nManhattan Island, Mrs. Hutchinson re- \nmoves to, 537. \n\nManida. a kidnapped Indian, 24, note. \n\nMann, Horace, succeeds J. Q. Adams \nin Congress, 956. \n\nManomet, now Monument, Mass., 52; \nStandish goes to, for wood, winter of \n1622-3, 69 ; Indians of, in conspiracy \nto destroy Wessagusset, 73. \n\nManse 11, Sir Robert, draws Mt. Desert \nat Greenwich, 1023, 139. \n\nMarblehead, Mass., protest against \nStamp Act, 1765, 839 ; 912. \n\nMa-re Mount, name given by Morton to \nhis settlement, 175 ; 344. \n\nMarlborough, Earl of, father of Lord \nLey, 301. \n\nMarlborough, Mass. , a shoemaking cen- \ntre, 930. \n\nMarriage, Boston forms of, as reported \n\n\nby Ratcliff to Privy Council, 279; \ncivil, performed by Winslow, 282 ; \n1636, 396, and note. \n\nMarsh, Lieut. Alexander, of Braintree, \n756. \n\nMarsh, Joseph, made minister of First \nPrecinct of Braintree, 1709, 616-17; \nhis support, ib. ; marriage, death, ib. ; \n626; 748. \n\nMarshall, John, of Braintree, his price- \nlist of food and drink, 686 ; diary \ncited, 687 ; his occupations, ib. ; typi- \ncal of skilled workman class, 716 ; his \ncareer, and services to town, 717 ; ex- \ntracts from his diary, 717-20 ; reli- \ngious reflections, 717 ; militia expenses, \n718 ; reception of Governor, Earl of \nBellomont, 1699,718-19; occurrences \nof 1701, 719 ; small-pox epidemic, \n1702, ib. ; impres.sments for army, \n1704, 1709, 719, 720; comments of S. \nWillard on death of, 720-1 ; notice of \nbears in Braintree woods, 1699, 924 ; \nthe haunt of deer, also, ib. \n\nMarston Moor, 347. \n\nMartha's Vineyard, visited by Dermer, \n1C19, 26, 27 ; his troubles and conflicts \nwith the Indians at, 27, 28 ; expedi- \ntion to find gold, sent to, 1614, 119. \n\nMary, Queen of England, 248, note, 251. \n\nMary Stuart, of Scotland, discussion \nwith John Knox, 383 ; 424. \n\nMary and John, ship of Mass. Co., ar- \nrives at Hull, 1630, 228; brings new \nsettlers to Salem colony, 228-9 ; some, \nstill at Nautasket, June, 1630, 233-i. \n\nMaton, Captain John, governor of \nMaine, 25 ; his Piscataqua plantation, \nincreased from Winthrop's partj , 1630, \n236 ; with Gorges attacks the Mass. \nBay charter, 1632, 263 ; 280 ; at W'ius- \nlow's examination, 282 ; his share in \nredistribution of territory, 1635, 283; \nWinthrop's comments on the failure \nof his schemes of 1C35, 2S9 ; 290; \ndeath of, and its effect on Goiges' \nschemes, 1635, 292 ; attached to Laud's \nparty, 296. \n\nMason, Captain John, of Connecticut, \nserves as lieutenant under E. Gibbons \nin war with Narragansetts, 1645, 359. \n\nMassachusetts Bay, Weston's purpose to \nestablish plantation on, 58 ; the early \nname of Boston Bay, 234. See Boston \nBay. \n\nMassachusetts Bay Colony, 1630-1691, \na business corporation, 815 ; estab- \nlished under Winthrop, 1630, 209 et \nseq. ; involved in tlie Antinomiau con- \ntroversy, 407 ; lasting eftect of Hutch- \ninson persecution, 559 ; government \ndenounced in England, 2G3 ; its growth \nand success, 269 ; allotted to Lord \nGorges, 1635, 283 ; its insignificance at \nCourt of Charles I.. 294; takes New \nHampshire under its jurisdiction, 1641, \n539 ; project for obtaining Rhode Is- \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\n1041 \n\n\nland, 537 ; war with Narragansett In- \ndians, 1G45, 359 ; tlie royal commission \nof 1GG4 refused in, 3 4-5 ; purchase of \nterritory umler Sir F, Gorges' patent, \n31G; popuhition of, 1G34, 340, note ; \n1G55, 671 ; its remoteness from Eng- \nland an advantage. 290, 297, 298 ; de- \nnounced to Laud, by Burdet, 310 ; \narbitrary power and use of it, of magis- \ntrates, 348 ; highways of, GOG-79 ; a \nbusiness corporation, 815. \n\n, Charter of 1G29, attacked by \n\nG L)rges, 1G32, 2G3 et st-q. ; Privy Coun- \ncil pay no heed to his petition, 26G-7 ; \ncalled for by Privy Council, l(xJ4, \n270 ; reasons which caused the grant- \ning of, 271 et spq. ; Gorges' renewed \nattack, ib. ; Morton announces its \nabrogation, 1634, 277 ; Privy Council \ndemands its return, 279 ; preparations \nfor its defence, 28G-7 ; its legal abro- \ngation, 1635, 292 ; General Court, \n1635, ignore order for its return, 289 ; \n296 ; 1638, Lords Commissioners issue \nsecond command for its return, 304 ; \nGeneral Court dechues to obey, 305; \nScotch troubles prevent attention to, \n307 ; vacated, 1680, 817. \n\n, Province, 1691-1776, Charter of \n\nWilliam and Mary, 701 ; 817 ; trans- \nforms the colony to a province, 747 ; \nseparation of church and state, ib. ; \ntheocracy extinguished by 1691 char- \nter, 819 ; religious tolerance secured, \nto all but papists, ib. ; Earl of Bello- \nniont comes as governor, 1099, 719 ; \nimpressments of 1704 and 1709 for \nmilitia, 719. 720; militia and army ex- \npens3s, ib. ; boundary dispute with \nKew Hauipshire,,1737, 702; Boston's \nmemorial for reopening Law Courts, \n1765, 839-40; scheme for quartering \nBritish soldiers in, 1768, 847 ; restrain- \ning habits of people, 793-4; moral \nstandards, 794 ; snialluess of criminal \nclass in, 797 ; health and disease in \ncolonial times, 800-1 ; royal governor \nquestion, 1635, 811-12 ; town records \nof, 813 : its position during colonial \nwars, 827 ; burden of Indian Wars, ib. ; \nresponse to Pitt's appeal, for forces, \n836 ; quiet in, after repeal of Stamp \nAct, 846. \n\n, during Revolution, 1775, scarcity \n\nof money, and rise of prices, 864 ; rid \nof British troops, 1776, 868 ; struggles \nafter evacuation of Boston, 869 ; rise \nof prices, difficulty of enlistments, \nspoils of contractors, ib. ; money, 880 \n€t seq. ; contributions to militia, 884 ; \nLegal Tender Act, 1780, 892 ; repealed, \n1781, ib. \n\n, State, Constitution of 1780, 887, \n\n889, 890, 891; tax question, 1780, \n895-6; Shays' Rebellion, 1786, 893, \n895, 896, 897 ; cost of, 898 ; 899 ; atti- \ntude towards war of 1812, 910 ; appre- \n\n\nhensions of danger on seaboard, ih. ; \nprovisions for defence in coast towns, \n912; town-meeting government, tend- \nency to break down, 982 ; militia, 818, \n855, 861, 865, 874, 875, 878, 881, 892, \n897, 898 ; Fourth Regiment, War of \nRebellion, 962. \n\n, General Court, originally of the \n\nnature of a stockholders' corporation \ncouncil, 815-16 ; enlarges Boston at \nMount Wollaston, 1634, 305, 583 ; its \ncommittee allots lands to Codding- \nton and Quiucy, there, ih. ; its pre- \ntext for refusing to return charter, \n280; its action on creation of Lords \nCommissioners for Colonial Govern- \nment, 1634, 286; declines to return \ncharter, 1038, 305 ; reply to Lords \nCommissioners of, 300 ; denounces the \nroyal commission of 10(i4, 335 ; assigns \nfifty acres in Boston to Blackstone, \n322 ; its discipline for non-church- \ngoers and other offenders, 330, 337 ; \nBursley a member of, 338 ; changes \nname Wessagusset to Weymouth, \n1035, 339-40; 1037, disciplines Rev. \nLenthal of Weymouth, 341 ; takes cog- \nnizance of the Anne Hutchinson dif- \nficulty, 413 ei seq. ; meeting of, to \narrange for departure of Vane, 420 ; \nconsiders Antinomian controversy at \nMarch, 1637, meeting, 441 ; two par- \nties on Antinomian question, 442 ; \ncase of Greensmith, ib. ; Wheelwright \nsummoned on charges because of fast- \nday sermon, 443; protest of Boston \nchurch-members against its jurisdic- \ntion, cases of conscience, 444 ; petition \nreturned as presumptuous, ih. ; exam- \nination of Wlieelwright, 444-6; judg- \nment of Wheelwright, 445 ; refuses to \nrecord Vane's protest against judg- \nment, 446 ; petitioned in favor of \nWheelwright, ib. ; postponement of \nsentence, ib. ; its seat removed to \nCambridge, 447-8 ; 451 ; Wheelwright \ndecision not sustained by people, at \nMay, ir>37, election, 452 ; composition \nof Court elected, 456 ; its procedure, \nib. ; division into two chambers, 1042, \nih. ; 1037, passes an alien law, 458; \nparty feeling in, 1037, 400 ; its hesita- \ntion to consider the Antinomian ques- \ntion. May, 1073, 474; dissolution of, \nSept. 1637, new election ordered, 475 ; \nresult of new election, ib. ; composi- \ntion and meeting of new Court, ib. ; \nWheelwright business taken up, 479 ; \nhis adherents expelled, ib. ; 480-1 ; \nbanishes him, 481 ; form of sentence, \nib. ; appeal to the King denied, ib. ; \narraigns Anne Hutchinson, Nov. 1637, \n483 ; its sessions held in Cambridge \nmeeting-house, 485 ; disregard of legal \nprocedure in trial of Anne Hutchin- \nson, 487 ; 488 ; story of the trial, 488- \n508 ; banishes her, 508 ; its revenge \n\n\n1042 \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\non refractory sergeants, 509; prose- i \ncutes signers ol Boston reuionstranee, \n510; banishes suspected persons, 511- \nI'J ; reasons, ib. ; subservient to the \nchurch, 513 ; gives leave to Boston \nchurch - members to attend church \nproceedings against Anne Hutchinson, \n517 ; its temper during the trial, j \n527-8 ; tlie Boston delegates of 1037, , \nelected to sustain Mrs. Hutchinson, \n533 ; Boston quieted by banishment \nof refractory persons, 534 ; redeems \nfrom Indian captivity, daughter of \nAnne Hutchinson, 538; warns settlers \nof Piscataqua against Underbill, 554 ; \nhistorical aspect of Antinomian per- \nsecution discussed, 559-78 ; Flynt \nmakes submission to, 603 ; 1048, grants \ntitle to John Thompson of Thompson's \nIsland, 342 ; its grants of land, subject \nto Indian rights, 053 ; its action in \nBraintree commons question, 058, 059 ; \n661 ; its action as to roads, 060, 008, \n670, 071, 073 ; erects monument to \nJudge Edmund Quincy, 702 ; John \nQuincy, Braintree delegate to, 1717- \n41 ; 707 ; Samuel Bass appointed one \nof commission to build bridge over Ne- \nponset, 1055, 714 ; sends five delegates \nto Continental Congress, 1774, 850 ; \nfines imposed on remiss recrmting oflB- \ncers, 875 ; 1779, becomes a Constitu- \ntion convention, 890 ; defines legal \nlimits of Sunday, 893 ; petitioned for \ncreation of Quincy town, 902 ; city \ncharter for Quincy passed by, 1889, \n1007. \n\n, Schools, Law of 1647, establish- \ning, 700 ; town-schools, report on, \n1879, 930-7. \n\n, Settlers of superior character, \n\n364 ; men of substance, ib. ; of purest \nEnglish blood, 655 ; 922 ; limit of colo- \nnial emigration from England to, 922. \n\nMassaclnisetts, Company, controversy \nwith Gorges over his rights in New \nEngland, 214-17 ; negotiations of Old- \nham with, 214-16 ; composed of Puri- \ntans, 222 ; difficulties with the Coun- \ncil for New England, ib. ; considers \nMorton's case, 223 ; fears caused by \nOldham, 225 ; instructions to Endi- \ncott, looking to the expulsion of older \nsettlers, 226 ; 283 ; quo narrnnto filed \nagainst, 1035, in King's Bench Court, \n291 ; result of proceedings, 292 ; 2%, \n298, 302, 303. \n\nMassachusetts, Fields, 14, note ; 167, \n252, 363, 699. \n\nMassasoit, Indian Chief, 28 ; visits Plym- \nouth Colony, 29 ; 30 ; Hopkins and \nWinslow, as ambassadors, visit him, \n30-1 ; attack upon, threatened by the \nNarragansetts, 1021, 32 ; plans at \nPlymouth for his protection. 34 ; rela- \ntions of Hobamack with, 37 : Squan- \nto's scheme to destroy influence of, \n\n\n37-40; reported as about to attack \ncolon}', 38 ; he becomes enemy of \nSquanto, 40 ; visits Plymouth to con- \ntradict the report, 1022, 41 ; demands \nSquanto's death, ib. ; compliance ob- \nviated, 42 ; sends messengers for \nSquanto, ib. ; they return without \nhim, ib. ; his illness, spring of 1023, \n72 ; cured by Winslow, ib. ; reveals \nplot against Wessagusset, 73 ; service \nrendered Plymouth by, 1023, 75 ; his \ngrandchild made a slave in West In- \ndies, 104, and note. \n\nMather, Cotton, cited as to pestilence \namong Indians, 12 ; Blackstone's occu- \npancy of Boston, 322-3 ; the wonder- \nful deliverance of Edward Gibbons, \n358 ; Magnalia and Theopolis Ameri- \ncana, favorite reading in early New \nEngland, 391 ; 409, note ; as to synod \nof 1037, 470 ; the Antinomian contro- \nversy, 493 ; 577 ; verses on Tompson, \n598, 002 ; on Gookins, 599 ; account \nof Tompson 's mental infirmity, 000-1 ; \nmention of Henry Flynt, 003 ; 009 ; \nmade D. D. by Glasgow university, \n030 ; record of winter weather, 1720, \n682-3 ; on degeneration of psalm-sing- \ning, 739 ; B. Tompson's complimen- \ntary verses to, 773 ; on a winter hearth- \nfire, 1097 ; 800 ; advice on personal \ncleanliness to candidates for ministry, \n807 ; 830. \n\nMather, Increase, attack on rum drink- \ning, 786. \n\nMather, Richard, minister at Dorches- \nter, 1640, 595. \n\nMattakeese meeting-house, 679. \n\nMattapan, Indian name of Dorchester, \n167 ; 233. \n\nMaurice, Prince of Nassau, Underbill's \nservice under, 551. \n\nMaverick, Amias, the wife of Samuel, \n101, 329, 335. \n\nMaverick, Samuel, birth and marriage, \n329; comes to New England, 1624, \n161, 329 ; account of his life in New \nEngland, 328-35 ; settles at Winnisim- \nmet, now Chelsea, ib. ; his house in \n1659, the oldest in Massachusetts, ib. ; \nbuilds fort on Noddle's Island, 192 ; \n193, 198 ; cited as to the burning of \nMorton's house at Merry Mount, 244, \nnote; 351, note; his letter to Claren- \ndon concerning Morton, 246, 330 ; \n252 ; description of Winslow, 281 ; \ncompelled to remove from Noddle's \nIsland to Boston, 1635, 288 ; letter to \nWinthrop cited, 333, note ; entertains \nWinthrop, 1630, 330 ; delay in admit- \nting him freeman of Boston, ib. ; en- \ngages in commerce, ib. ; visits Vir- \nginia, ib. ; 331 ; suspected of relations \nwith Gorges inimical to colony and put \nunder restraint, ib. ; entertains Vane \nand Lord Ley, ib. ; 462 ; entertains \nJosBPlyn, 331 ; a Church of England \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\n1043 \n\n\nman, 332 ; his relations with Winthrop, \n333 ; supporter of Robert Childs, ib. ; \npersecuted and iuiprisoued, 334 ; re- \nmoves from New England, ib. ; re- \nturns from England, 1(>64, as royal \ncommissioner, meets with contempt at \nBoston, 334-5 ; his services in oflBce at \nNew York, 33o ; his death, ib. ; 340, \n34'2, 349, 356 ; Braiutree's industries, \n770-1. \n\nMay, Thomas, his History of the Long \nParliament cited, 115-6. \n\nMay Day revels at Merry Mount, 1627, \n176-82 ; of Pagan origin, 181 ; its cele- \nbration in England in the year 1585, \n182. \n\nMayflower, the ship, 28; chartered by \nCushman and Weston for the Pil- \ngrims, 47 ; carries the Pilgrims and \nreturns to England, 48 ; perils off \nCape Cod, 1620, 63 ; 125 ; John Alden \nand Priscilla Muliins, emigrants to \nPlymouth in, 714. \n\nMaypole, Merry Mount, 354, 355. \n\nMedford, 16, 19 ; some of Winthrop's \nparty settle at, 1630, 238 ; Wintlirop's \nfarm at, 364 ; 678. \n\nMeeting-house in New England, 732-46 ; \ndistinction of persons in, 738 ; not re- \ngarded a sacred place, 742 ; its secu- \nlar uses, ib. ; that of Braintree Middle \nPrecinct used for elections, 743 ; rules \nfor decency in, ib. ; on occasions a \npowder magazine, iu. \n\nMehnlle, Andrew, rebukes James I., \n424. \n\nMemorial from Boston Church to Gen- \neral Court, 1C37, 444 ; tie signers pun- \nished, 509-10. \n\nMerchant Adventurers of London, \nconcerned in the settlement of the \nPilgrims in New England, 46 ; 53 ; buy \nWeston's interest in their company, \n1622, 54 ; 56, 57. \n\nMerrimack river, Thomas Weston and \nhis party cast ashore at mouth of, \n1023, 146 ; 210, 482, 666. \n\nMerry Mount, 171, note; condition of \nthe colonists at, 1626, 174 ; the scheme \nof Morton to obtain command of, 174, \nand note; named, 175; population of, \n1627, 193 ; fur trade at, 196-7 ; dan- \ngers apprehended by Bradford from, \n198 ; character of settlement, ib. ; \nMorton captured at, June, 1628, 206-7 ; \nhe returns to, 209 ; its name changed \nto Mount Dagon, by Endicott, 211 ; \nMorton's house destroyed, 243; 363, \nMo, 351. 3;52, 354, 355, 356, 582, 828. \n\nMerry, Walter, 1643, overseer of gal- \nleries, Boston meeting-house, 736. \n\nMetheglin, a drink, described by Brad' \nford, 356. \n\nMethodist Episcopal Church, Quincy, \nmeeting-house, built, 1838, 930. \n\nMexico, war with United States, 953 ; \n955. \n\n\n1 Middleborough, Mass., 33, 255. \nMiddle Precinct, Braintree, schools in, \n\n1790, 901. \nMiddlesex County, Mass., within the \n\nterritory granted to R. Gorges, 136. \nMilitia, Mass. Bay, 1689, WaitstiU Win- \nthrop, Major General of, 818 ; in revo- \nlution, 855; 861, 865, 874, 875, 878, \n! 881, 892, 897, 898. \nMiU, John, of Braintree, 1704 ; 623. \nMill, Stoughton's, the first run by water \nI power in Mass., 669. \nI Miller, Ebenezer, 1727, rector of Christ \nChurch, Braintree and Quincy, 621, \nj 628-31 ; made D. D. by Oxford, 1747, \n1 630. \nMiller, Major Ebenezer, an Episcopalian \nTory, 841 ; pro-stamp-act candidate \nfor selectman, 1766, defeated, 843-4 ; \nelected fence - viewer and surveyor of \nhighways, .846 ; 851 ; judged inimical \nto popular cause, 1777, 853 ; ill of \npestilence, 1775, 863 ; 871 ; elected \nselectman, 1792, 904. \nMiller, Samuel, of Milton, father of Rev. \n\nEbenezer, 627. \nMiller family, of Episcopal church at \n\nBraintree, 632. \nMilton, John, his sonnet to Sir Harry \nVane, 373 ; Hugh Peters walks with, \nat Cromwell's funeral, 375 ; cited, \n385 ; 390, 476, 571-2, 702, 710 ; his \nworks in houses of colonial gentry, \n805; 806,941. \nI Milton, Mass., 717, 902, 928. \nI Milton Falls, 1654, bridge across Nepon- \nI set at, 673. \n\nI Milton Hill, site of first water-power \nI mill in Mass., 669; 671. \nj Minute-men of Braintree, 1775, 857. \nMiracles, Puritan opinions concerning, \n503. \nI Misliawum, site of Charlestown, 161 ; \nj within the territory granted to Old- \nI ham, 217 ; the brothers Sprague set- \n1 tied at, 271 ; they name place Charles- \nI town, 218 ; 233. \nI Missouri, bridge at St. Louis, across, \n\n668. \n1 Mitchell, Mrs. Zerviah Gould, descend- \nant of Massasoit, 104, note. \nModesly, Mary, disciplined by Dorches- \nter church, 1681, 754-5, 7iote. \nMonatiquot, stream, supposed to be \nI same as Phillips Creek, 61 ; 159, 166, \n' 205; 363; 582, 583; ferry estab- \nI lished across, 1635, 672 ; 1644, stone \nbridge across, 673 ; contention over \nfish in, 1736, 831-4. \nMonckton, Lord, removal of Acadians \n\nby, 641. \nMonell, Rev. William, minister of con- \ngregation south of Neponset, 308. \nMoney in Mass., scarcity of, 1775, 864 ; \n\n1780, 880 ; 882, 883 et seq. ; 892. \nMonhegan, Dermer's visit at, 1619, 26 ; \nSaunders of Wessagusset goes to, on \n\n\n10-^4 \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\nexpedition for provisions, G9 ; 7G ; \n14(5. \n\nMoiimoutli, battle, 874. \n\nMoiiomoy Foiut, C;ipe Cod, f)3. \n\nMonroe, James, President, his adminis- \ntration, ett'ect on Quiucy politics, i)15. \n\nMontaigne, Micliel de, 390. \n\nMontcalm, capitulation oi Fort William \nHenry to, 1757, 830. \n\nMoon Island, Boston Bay, descent on, \nby colonial militia, July, 1775, 801 ; \n177G, 807. \n\nMorals in colonial New England, 783-99. \n\nMorell, William, Churcli of England \nclerg3'mau, comes with Robert Gorges \nto New England, 142 ; 143, 144, note ; \nin charge of Wessagusset, 153 ; con- \ntinued a year there, 154 ; returns to \nEngland, 150 ; his career in New Eng- \nland, ib. ; liis Latin poem, 157-8; 327, \n159, 102. \n\nMortality at Plymouth and Wessagusset \nin famine of 1023, 77. \nat Charlestown, 1030, 235-7. \nat Salem, 1029-30, 228, 234, 240, 241. \n\nMorton, Marcus, Governox of Mass., vote \nfor at Quiucy, 94G, 947 ; 948, 950, 952. \n\nMorton, N.athauiel, accusation of Thomas \nMorton as murderer, 109. \n\nMorton, Tliom.as, probably one of An- \ndrew Weston's party, 1022, 5G, 57 ; 59, \n163, 104, note; his return to Eng- \nland, 1022, 02 ; comes with Captain \nWollaston to New England, 1024, 103 ; \nhis love of nature, 104 ; 172 ; citations \nfrom New England Canaan concerning \nNew England, 104; its charm for him, \n1G5 ; settles at Passonagessit, IGG ; \nbuilds a house, 1G7 ; his influence in \nsettlement, 102G, 168 ; opposed to the \nabandonment of the enterprise, ib. ; his \ncharacter and history, 169 ; accused \nof murder in England, ib. ; regarded \na profane man at Plymouth, ib. ; 175 ; \ndescribed by Governor Dudley in a \nletter to the Countess of Lincoln, 109 ; \na Church of England man, 170, note ; \nregarded a martyr, 170-1, note ; his \nrevels and debaucheries at Merry \nMount, 170, note; a sportsman, 171, \n172, 175 ; a gentleman of Clifford's \nInn, 171 ; his moral character, 172 ; \nvalue of his New England Canaan, \nib. ; his former life in London, ib. ; \nplots to obtain command of Passona- \ngessit, 1G2G, 174; no mention of Wol- \nlaston in New English Canaan, ib. ; \nnote ; expels Fitcher from Merry \nMount, 175 ; his objects in America, \nnames settlement Ma-re, or Merry \nMount, ?6./ May-day revels 1G27, 176- \n82 ; his poem, 177, his song for dance, \n178-9 ; 183 ; his account of Wessagus- \nset hanging, 79-81 ; cited as to fear of \nStandish by the Indians, 103 ; de- \nscribes John Oldham, 184 ; 215 ; his \naccount of the Lyf ord and Oldham ep- \n\n\nisode, 189-90 ; 1G28, causes of his dis- \nfavor at Plymouth, 194-200 ; engages \nin the fur trade, 194 ; 190 ; supplies \nIndians with spirits and guns, 194; \n190; they frequent his settlement, \n195 ; a danger to Plymouth, 200 ; ad- \nmonished by the colonial magistrates, \n1:01 ; his reply, ib. ; again warned, 202 ; \nhis indifference, ih. ; Standish sent to \narrest, 203 ; taken in custody at Wes- \nsagusset, ib. ; he escapes from the \nguard, 204 ; returns to Merry Mount, \n205 ; captured, 200 ; carried to Plym- \nouth, 207 ; sent to England, ib. ; \n208 ; prosecuted in England on charges \nfrom Plymouth, 221 ; escapes punish- \nment, ib. ; 223 ; represents himself a \nchurch martyr, 222 ; protected by \nGorges, ib. ; whose favor he gains, \n223 ; his case considered by the Mass. \nCompany, ib. ; 1029, returns with Al- \nlerton to Plymouth, ib.., 224; re- \nsumes residence at Merry Mount, 209, \n224 ; under Endicott's jurisdiction, \n211 ; an uncongenial neighbor to the \nSalem people, 225 ; attempts to make a \nparty of the jealous older colonists \nagainst the new, ib. ; an intriguer for \nGorges, ib. ; his opposition to, Endi- \ncott's policy, 225-G; plan to arrest \nhim for violation of trade regulations, \n227 ; his escape, 227-8 ; famine and \nsickness at Salem and Charlestown \ntakes attention from him, 240 ; 1030, \nordered to appear before magistrates, \n241 ; his examination and banishment, \n241-2 ; put in the stocks at Charles- \ntown, 243; sent to England in the \nship Handmaid, ib. ; his house at \nMerry Mount burned, ib. ; his ac- \ncount of burning, 244, note., 321 ; a \nwarrant from England for his arrest, \n246 ; his arrests in 1628 and 1630, dis- \ncussed, 244-.50 ; his influence at White- \nhall, 250 ; committed to jail in Exe- \nter on arrival in England, ib. ; 257, \nnote ; a letter to, from Gorges, opened \nby Winthrop, 258 ; states the case of \nPhilip Ratclilf , 2.59 ; account of affair \nof Endicott and Ratcliff, 201 ; a wit- \nness for Gorges in his attack upon the \nMass. Bay charter, 1632, 203 et seq. ; \n203, 268, 275; reports the success of \nGorges' scheme for colonial govern- \nment, 277 ; the establishment of royal \ncommission to govern New England, \n1G34, 278, note ; complains of Winslow \nto Lords Commissioners, 282 ; appoint- \ned Solicitor for Deeds, 1635, 284; his \nletter to Jeffreys communicated to \nWinthrop, 1G34, 285; 295; the an- \nnouncements of his letter confirmed, \n286 ; causes quo warranto to be filed \nin King's Bench Court, 1635, against \nMass. Bay Co., 291 ; result of proceed- \nings, 292«; 297, 300; in the pay of \nGeorge Cleeve, 301, 344 ; disclaimed \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\n1045 \n\n\nby Gorges, 1637, 303 ; 307 ; counter- \nsigns cluuter of city Gorgeana, 311; \npublication of New English Canaan, \n303, 343 ; his relations to Gorges, 343- \n44 ; attached to Parliamentary side \niu civil war, 344 ; reappears at Plym- \nouth, ib ; avoids Boston magistrates, \nib. ; stays at Plymouth, winter of \n1G43-44 ; goes to Maine, 1G44, and \nto Rhode Island, 34(5 ; summoned be- \nfore Court of Assistants of Mass. Bay, \nSeptember, 1G44, ib. ; tlie charges \nbrought against him, 34G-8 ; impris- \noned and fined, 348 ; sent to England \nafter year's imprisonment, 350 ; dis- \ncomfort iu prison, 351 ; experiences \non coast of Maine, 1G27, ih. ; his \nstory subsequent to 1041 , 343-51 ; \n354 ; bad name given to Merry Mount \nregion by his occupation, 3G4 ; suc- \nceeded by William Coddingtou, iu \nownership of Mt. Wollaston, 54G ; \n582 ; Edward Gibbons liis companion \nat Mt. Wollaston, 828. \n\nMount Auburn street, Cambridge, 484. \n\nMount D.igon, Merry Mount so called by \nEndicott, 211. \n\nMount Desert, drawn at Greenwich, \n1G23, by Sir Robert Mansell, 139; vis- \nited 1G22. by Captain Squeb, 232. \n\nMount Wollaston, Passonagessit, Chiok- \natabot's plantation at, 11 ; named for \nCaptain Wollaston, 1G2; 1G7 ; affairs \nof the colony at, summer of 1G2G, 174, \nand note ; name changed by Morton \nto Merry Mount or Ma-re Mount, 175 ; \nposition relative to Wessagusset and \nThompson's Island, 193; witliin the \nterritory granted to Endicott, 211 ; \n224, 240, 243, 244, 250, 321, 353 ; Gen- \neral Court orders its annexation to \nBoston, 1634, 365, 583, 651, 668, 669 ; \nbay front in 1634, assigned to Codding- \nton and Quincy, 365 ; ownership of \nproperty passes from Morton to Cod- \ndington, 546 ; grant of land to Ed- \nmund Quincy at, ib. ; Coddington \nseUs, 1639, to William Tyng, 707 ; in- \nherited by Mrs. Thomas Shepard, 1661, \nib. ; bequeathed to John Quincy, lier \ngrandson, 1709, ib. ; his house at, 681 ; \n701 ; Edmund Quincy's allotment, 365, \n669, 700; lands allotted to William \nHutchinson and John Wheelwright, \n1036-7, 366. and note, other allot- \nments, 1636-40, 584 ; 585-G ; settlers \nat, 1637, 4.59; 475; 585; farms set \napart for Bostonians, 646; land-title \nconfirmed by Chickatabut's descend- \nants, 6.53 ; chapel of ease established \n415, 593, Wheelwright appointed min- \nister, 416-17, 436; his fast-day ser- \nmon, 437 ; preaches Covenant of Grace \nat, 475 ; his expulsion, 565, 581 ; first \nstage of Mrs. Hutchinson's journey \ninto exile, 536 ; site of her liouse \ntkere, 536, note; church established, \n\n\n1639, 586; to be purged of Antino- \nmian lieresies, 595 ; ferry communica- \ntion with Wessagusset, 1G35, 672 ; 828 ; \nJohn Adams' Christmas visit to Jolm \nQuincy at, 1765, 840 ; petition for \ntown incorporation, granted, 1640, \n587 ; adjustment of claim of Boston, \n588-9 ; observations of British ships \nfrom, 177G, 868 ; 886, 887 ; John \nAdams' embarkation for England at, \n1778, 951 ; 1004, See Braiutree, Merry \nMouut. \n\nMourt, George, cited as to Standish's ex- \ncursion to Boston bay, 1621, 14:, note; \nrespecting Corbitant, 33. \n\nMunster, Anabaptists of, 5(>5, 567, 568. \n\nMusic in churches, 739-41 ; string and \nwind instruments in Braiutree church, \n741 ; choir of Quincy meeting-house, \n9UG-7. \n\nMuster-field, see Training-field. \n\nMystic river, visited by Standish, 1621, \n16, 19, 159, 161, 218, 233, 238, 363. \n\nNahant, within territory granted, 1622, \nto Robert Gorges, 136 ; its purchase \nby Thomas Dexter, 260. \n\nNames in colonial Massachusetts, indica- \ntive of pure Englisli origin, 922 ; some \nFrench, ib. ; of slaves at Braiutree, \n923. \n\nNauepashemet, Indian Sachem, 16; \nStandish visits his former home, 17 ; \n217. \n\nNantasket, visited by Gov. Winthrop, \n1630; settlement at, 1622, 183; pur- \nchase of, from Chickatabut, ib. ; Ly- \nford and Oldham take up residence \nthere after expulsion from Plymouth, \n190 ; 193, 229 ; in 1029, 231 ; the tem- \nporary residence of Rev. Ralph Smith, \n230-1 ; engageme t of colonial militia \nwith British at, 1775, 861 ; light- \nhouse destroyed, 1775, ib. ; reestab- \nlished, and again destroyed, ib. \n\nNantasket Roads, 867 ; 886, frozen, win- \nter of 1779-80, 888. \n\nNantes, Edict of, 248, note. \n\nNarragansett Bay, home of Massasoit, \n1621, 30; soutiiern limit of territory \nallotted to Lord Gorges, 16a5, 283 ; \nBlackstone removes to, 324, 345, 597 ; \n537 ; Point Judith, named for Judith \nQuincy, 700. \n\nNarragansett Indians, not affected by \npestilence, lGlG-7, 4 ; threatened at- \ntack on Massasoit 1621, 32 ; attack \nfrom, feared at Plymouth, 1G22, 38, \n75; dangers to be feared from, 1623, \n102 ; war with the New England colo- \nnies, 359, 828. \n\nNaseby, battle of, 154, 313. \n\nNatick, Mass., property of Saltonstall \nat, 365. \n\nNative American political party, 958, \n961, 996, 1006. \n\nNaumkeag, Indian name of Salem, 211. \n\n\n1046 \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\nNauset tribe, Indians captured by Cap- \ntain Hunt, 23 ; 33. \n\nNavigation acts of Great Britain, G97. \n\nNeal, Abigail, insane woman of Brain- \ntree, 725 ; 726. \n\nNeal, Benjamin, of Braintree, 832 ; 833. \n\nNeal, Henry, his offspring, GOO. \n\nNegro conspiracy, Boston, 1774, 8.54. \n\nNegroes, in Braintree, colonial times, \n923 ; provision made at meeting- \nhouses for seating, 738 and «o/e. \n\nNeponset river, 14, note ; mouth of, 15 ; \n159, 1G7 ; home of Sir C. Gardiner, \n252 ; the southern boundary of Euro- \npean settlement of Mass. Bay colony, \n1630, 3G3 ; 365, 417 ; in 1637, 582, 583 ; \n581, 585, 586, early projects for cross- \ning, ferries and bridges, 668-73 ; 1654, \nbridged at Milton Falls, 673; 714, \n902, 931. \n\nNeptune, English ship, at siege of Ro- \nchelle, 317. \n\nNeutrality, Quincy town-meeting regu- \nlations to preserve international, 1793, \n906. \n\nNew Amsterdam, New York, project of \nPilgrims for settling in, 46 ; 597 ; Wil- \nliam Kieft, governor of, 1642, 598. \n\nNew Braintree, Worcester County, \nMass., created from Braintree town \ncommons, 660. \n\nNewbury, New Hampshire, 628, coast \nroad from, to Hingham, Mass., 6G6. \n\nNewcomb's tavern, Braintree North Pre- \ncinct, 925. \n\nNew England, developed on the basis \nof the 1620 charter to Plymouth \nCompany, 123 ; allotments of territory \nat Greenwich, June 29, 1623, 138-9; \nroyal laws and proclamation for, \nagainst trade in firearms, 195 ; Gorges' \nscheme for new colonial organization \nin, 1634, 276-7 ; his dreams for, 317 ; \nthe significance of Antinomian contro- \nversy in, 367 ; Puritans of, adopt the \nBible as the basis of law and govern- \nment, 382 et seq. ; clergy of, 392 ; in- \ntermarriage in families of, 608-9 ; im- \nmigration in, 1637, 458 ; Puritan set- \ntlement a business enterprise, 560 ; \nland titles derived from Indians, 653 ; \nSaxon customs in, 655-6 ; gentry of, \n699 ; 710 ; influence of farmers in de- \nvelopment of, 712-13 ; artisans or me- \nchanics, 716 ; dependent classes, 722- \n31 ; insanity in, 724 ; meeting-house in, \n732-46 ; town customs derived from \nold England, 745, note; 1735-41, re- \nligious revival, 749 ; the church a so- \ncial centre, 750-1 ; not the mother of \ngreat soldiers, 764 ; influence of train- \ning-field in, ib. ; influence of schools, \n765 ; John Adams' opinion as to cause \nof success of, 732 ; 764, 783 ; the slav- \nery influence in, 783 et seq. ; migra- \ntion to California and the West, from, \n793 ; causes modifying intemperance \n\n\nin, 793-4; chastity in, 795-9; church \ndiscipline of, 795-9 ; conditions of life, \ncolonial times, 802-3; diversions in \ncolonial times, 808-9; town-meeting \ngovernment, 810-26 ; burden of Indian \nwars upon, 827 : stress in, during Rev- \nolution, 868 et seq. ; before the prob- \nlem of the war of Revolution, 874, be- \nfore that of the Indian and French \nwars, 875 ; limit of colonial emigration \nto, 922 ; limited industrial develop- \nment of towns, 927 ; infrequency of \nRoman Catholics in, 931. \n\nNew England Primer, 778-9. \n\nNew England's lamentations for Old \nEngland's errors, 564. \n\nNew Enghsh Canaan, by Morton, ac- \ncount of Wessagusset hanging in, 79- \n81 ; account of Lake Erocoise in, 301 ; \npublication of, 303; 343; no copy at \nPlymouth, .^44 ; 351, \n\nNewetowne, see Newtown. \n\nNewfoundland, Squanto sent to, 1615, \nwith Dermer, 25 ; 45 ; Gorges sends \ntrading vessels to, 119 ; restrictions on \nBanks of, in Plymouth Company's \ncharter of 1620, 12\"3. \n\nNew Hampshire, Captain John Mason, \nthe patentee of, 263; 283; Burdett \nremoves to, from Salem, 310 ; Wheel- \nwright takes refuge from jjersecution \nin, 482 ; 581 ; dread of banishment to, \nsalutary for good order of Boston, \n534 ; Mrs. Hutchinson abandons pro- \nject of settling in, 536 ; UnderhiU re- \nmoves to, 554 ; 1641, admitted to juris- \ndiction of Mass. Bay, 539 ; boundary \ndispute with Mass. Bay, 702 ; foreign- \ners come to Quincy from, 946. \n\nNew Haven, 345 ; end of Pequot war at, \n466 ; residence of Isaac Allerton, 598. \n\nNew Jersey, the southern limit of colo- \nnial organization under Gorges' scheme \nof 1634, 276 ; Washington's army en- \ncamped in, winter of 1779-80, 888. \n\nNew London, 466. \n\nNewman, Rev. Samuel, a rival of Rev. \nHull's, 1638, in church at Weymouth, \n341. \n\nNew Mexico, 534. \n\nNewport, R. I., formerly called Aquid- \nneck, 536 ; in .seventeenth century, \npoint of embarkation for New York, \n597 ; Trinity Church, 621. \n\nNew Somersetshire, name of Sir F. \nGorges' province in Maine, 301 ; Wil- \nliam Gorges appointed governor of, \n308. \n\nNewspapers, daily, not received at \nQuincy, prior to 1830, 804. \n\nNewtown, or Newetowne, early name of \nCambridge, 448, 453, 483 ; described by \nDudley in letter to Countess of Lin- \ncoln, 484. \n\nNew York, project of the Pilgrims for set- \ntling in, 46 ; Morton would have been \nunmolested in, 225 ; Sir C. Gardiner's \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\n1047 \n\n\nproject of a refuge in, 255 ; Maver- \nick's official services in, 335 ; route to, \nfrom New England, 597 ; 077 : Tonip- \nson and Knowles at, KA'2, 5S).S ; Rev. \nEdward Winslow buried in St. \nGeorge's Cluircli at, 633; prayers for \nKing at, 1770, 852 ; 927. \n\nNiaiitic tribe of Indians, war with, 1G53, \n828. \n\nNicholson, Edward, marshal of Boston, \nat hanging of Quakers, 550. \n\nNiles, Samuel, minister of Braintree \nMiddle Precinct Church, attacks Lem- \nuel Briant in a sermon, 1749, 638 ; of \ncommittee on Braintree commons, \n1702, 605 ; 740 ; Stamp Act Committee \nmeets at his house, 839. \n\nNinigret, sachem of Niantic, war of \n1053 with, 828. \n\nNoddle's Island, fort built upon, by Sam- \nuel Maverick, 192 ; Maverick com- \npelled to remove from, 1635, to Bos- \nton, 288 ; 331 ; Josselyn's account of \nhis entertainment at, 331-2 ; deeded \nby Maverick to his son, 334 ; Vane \nand Lord Ley visit Maverick at, 331 ; \n462. \n\nNorfolk County, Mass., town schools of, \n937. \n\nNorfolk, Virginia, route to, from New \nEngland, 597. \n\nNorman, John, fined by General Court, \n337. \n\nNortliampton, Mass., religious revival, \n1735, 749 ; militia employed in Shays' \nrebellion disbanded at, 898. \n\nNorth Precinct of Braintree, 590 ; \nschools in, 1790, 901 ; incorporated as \nthe town of Quiucy, 1792, 903 ; meet- \ning-house, 921. \n\nNorth Quincy, part of allotment to Wm. \nHutchinson, 366, note. \n\nNorth River, Mass., 88. \n\nNorton, Elizabeth, marries John Quincy, \n1715, 707. \n\nNorton, Rev. John, third pastor of \nHingham, 409, note ; his daughter \nmarries John Quincy, 1715, 707. \n\nNorton, Mrs. Miry, gift to Braintree \nmeeting-house, 737 ; her seat in, r6., \n738. \n\nNorton, Rev. , minister of Wey- \nmouth, 975. \n\nNowell, Elder Increase, of \"Winthrop's \ncolony, 23 ; examines Mrs. Hutchin- \nson, 502 ; in discussion over her \nspeech, 504. \n\nNowell, Samuel, at marriage of Daniel \nQuincy, 706. \n\nNoy, William, Attorney General, Eng- \nland, files quo u-nrrnnto against Mass. \nBay Company, 1635, 291 ; engaged in \nship money project, 295, death, ih. \n\nObbatinewat, sagamore, 15 ; visited by \nStandish, 1621, 16-18 ; 19. \n\nOhio River, Wasliington's expedition to, \n1754,641. \n\n\nI Old Colony Railway, opened, 1845, 923 ; \ngranite railway franchise bought by, \n927 ; the original line in America, ih. \n\nOld Corner Bookstore, Boston, on .site \nof Anne Hutchinson's house, 397, \nnote. \n\nOldham, John, comes to New England, \n1623, 183 ; \"a mad Jack,\" 184 ; causes \ntrouble at Plymouth, ih. ; with Ly- \nford becomes centre of Plymouth dis- \ncontents, 185 ; his letters opened by \nBradford, ih. ; his disturbances at \nPlymouth, 186 ; brought before the \nGeneral Court for conspiracy, 187 ; his \ndefence, ih. ; ordered to leave Plym- \nouth, 188; of character superior to \nLyford, ih. ; reappearance at Plym- \nouth, 189 ; rebukes Plymouth people, \nih. ; is imprisoned, ih. ; stays at Nan- \ntasket, 190 ; takes Morton to Eng- \nland, 207-8, 212 ; 209 ; territory con- \nveyed to, by John Gorges, 212 ; seeks \nemployment from Mass. Company, \n214 ; his character, 215 ; his difficul- \nties with company, ih. ; his grant con- \ntested, ib. { outgeneralled by Mass, \nCompany, 216-17 ; settlement made \non his land by brothers Sprague, 217 ; \nhis efforts to regain his title, 220 ; re- \nturns to New England and settles at \nWatertown, 221 ; fooled by Morton, \nih. ; his efforts in the prosecution of \nMorton, ih. ; cause of his relaxing \nsame, 223 ; his influence feared by \nCompany, 225; 232; gives informa- \ntion of ]\\Iorton, 249. \n\nOld South Meeting House, Boston, 238. \n\nOliver, Captain James, in persecution of \nQuakers, 1659, 408-9, note. \n\nOliver, John, elected to General Court, \n1637, 480 ; refused a seat by the Court, \nih. ; electors refuse to send a substi- \ntute, ih. \n\nOliver, Thomas, suggests Anne Hutch- \ninson's sons be admonished, 520. \n\nOpinionists, Mrs. Hutchinson's party \ncalled, 422 ; fifty-eight in aU, 511. \n\nOrleans shoals, 43. \n\nOtis, Harrison Gray, Federalist candi- \ndate for governor, Mass., 1823, 945-6. \n\nOtis, James, appointed to support me- \nmorial for opening law-courts, 1765, \n1839-40 ; town-meeting orator, 967. \n\nOvid, Art of Love, read by John Adams \nto Mrs. Savil, 805. \n\nOwen, Ebenezer, of Braintree, 1699, \n\" his distracted daughter,\" 726. \n\nOwen, Ebenezer, of Braintree, 1690, \ngoes on Quebec expedition, 758 ; dies \nof small-pox, ih. , 830 ; his widow causes \nscandal, 759. \n\nOwen, Josiah, of Braintree, 726 ; 1692, \ndisciplined by church, 759. \n\nOwen, Mary, insane woman of Brain- \ntree, 726. \n\nOwen, Nathaniel, Braintree constable, \n1713, 626; 627; substitute in militia \n\n\n1048 \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\nfor J. Marshall, impressment of 1709, ; \n\n7J0 ; ill Braiutree records, 727. I \n\nOxford University, Laud's supervision \n\nof, lGo7, '297 ; William Tompsou a \n\ngraduate of, 50G ; makes Ebeuezer \n\nMiller D. D., 030. \nOyster Bay, Long Island, Underhill dies \n\nat, 1G72, 558. \n\nPacific Ocean, limit of territory granted \nPlymouth Council, lli'i. \n\nPalfrey, J. G., cited as to religious intol- \neriuice in New England, 248, note; \nconcerning Mary Grove, 25(j, 257, \nnotes ; sentence of Ratcliff, 202, note ; \n«ause of granting Mass. Buy charter, \n272; population of Mass. Bay, 1034, \n340, note ; his partiality for Winthrop, \n378, note; Wheelwright's fast -day \nsermon, 440, note; temper of General \nCourt duiiug Anne Hutchinson's trial, i \n527 ; 528 ; English colonial emigrants, \n922. \n\nPalfrey, Peter, of Salem, 201. \n\nPalmer, , of Braintree aids in \n\nthrowmg tea into Boston harbor, 850. ) \n\nPalmer, Deacon, General Joseph, 1744, ! \ndeclines office of constable, 825 ; dele- i \ngate from Braintree to General Court i \nat Cambridge, 1775, 849, 800 ; to tlie j \ncounty convention, 1770, 850 ; 871 ; \ncontributions to town recruiting fund, \n1780, 877 ; military service, 885-G ; \nfailure of Rhode Island expedition, \n886 ; Braintree's delegate to Constitu- \ntion convention, 1780, 891 ; head of \ncommittee on town government, 1780, \n889, 891 ; %2. \n\nPaomet, Indian tribe, 72 ; in conspiracy \nto destroy Wessagusset, 73. \n\nPaper currencv, depreciation in Massa- \nchusetts, 1775, 864. \n\nPapists, no provision for toleration of, \nMassachusetts charter, 1691, 819. \n\nParadise Lost, 809. \n\nParis, siege of, 1589, Gorges at, 106. \n\nParker, F. W., superintendent Quiucy \nschools, 939-40 ; 975. \n\nParker, Theodore, 643. \n\nParkman, Francis, cited, 901. \n\nParliament of 1621, called the Griev- \nances Parliament, 126 ; attacks Gorges' \npatent, 127-9 ; contention with the \nKing, 129 ; adjourned and then dis- \nsolved, ih. ; 130 ; 272 ; under Charles \nI., 297 ; its Commission for Planta- \ntions, 315 ; the Long, dissolved by \nCromwell, 373 ; 800 ; origin traced to \nBaltic settlements, 980 ; its riglit to \ntax colonies, 842-3 ; repeal of Stamp \nAct. 846 ; Revenue Bills introduced, \n1767, 846-7. \n\n, House of, its picture of Lady \n\nAlice Lisle, 705. \n\nParma, Duke of, Sluys besieged by, 106. \n\nParmenter, John, of \"Braintree, 830. \n\nParmenter, Joseph, 1730, clerk, North \n\n\nPrecinct, Braintree, 742 ; 744 ; disci- \nplined by church, 701. \n\nPartridge, , of Duxbury, 873. \n\nPassacus, Indian, war with, 1645, 828. \n\nPassonagessit, afterwards Mt. Wollas- \nton, Chickatabot's plantation at, 11 ; \nsite of Wollaston settlement, 166 ; \ncharacter of, 100-8 ; delineated on \nmaps by Captain John Smith, 167 ; \nthe region round about, 166-8 ; con- \ndition of tlie colony, summer of 1()20, \n174 ; name changed to Ma-re Mount, \nor Merry Mount, by Morton, 175 ; \n194 ; 285 ; fate of Wollaston 's colony \nat, ^3. \n\nPatuxet, i. e. Plymouth, pestilence at, \n9 ; 23, 28 ; Indian from, kidnapped by \nGorges, 24, note. \n\nPauper class, Braiutree, 722-4 ; 727-31 ; \n900 ; 917 ; 918. \n\nPeace, treaty of, 1783, United States \nand Great Britain, 893. \n\nPearce, Gen. E. W., IW, note. \n\nPecksuot, Indian, as to attack on French \ntrader in Boston Bav, 7-8 ; taunts \nStandisli,92; killed by Stand ish, 92-3. \n\nPeddock's Island, Boston Bay, 7. \n\nPeirce, William, master of ship, 185. \n\nPemaquid, 24. \n\nPembroke, William, third Earl, of the \nPlymouth Company, 122 ; his charac- \nter and influence in behalf of charter, \n124; at meetings of the Council for \nNew England, 131. \n\nPendergast, Rev. , Roman Catholic, \n\nclergyman, visits J. Q. Adams, 1826, \n931, celebrates first Mass at Quincy, \nib. : 932. \n\nPenii's Hill farm, Braintree, birthplace \nof John Adams, 017; his home, 805; \nfirst residence after marriage, 845; \nscene at, May 21, 1775, 857, 858 ; Mrs. \nAdams and .son, Joini Quincy, watch \nsigns of Bunker's Hill battle from, \n858-9 ; her observations from, during \naffair of Dorchester Heights, 866 ; of \nthe fleet of British troops' ships in \nBoston Bay, 867 ; 868, 886, 888, 919 ; \n951. \n\nPenniman, James, disciplined by Brain- \ntree c4iurch, 760-1. \n\nPenniman, John, in Braintree records, \n7*^7 \n\nPenniman, John, of Swansea, 823. \n\nPenniman, Samuel, in Braintree records, \n727, 756, 772. \n\nPenniman, Stephen, 903. \n\nPenniman, Thomas. Braintree delegate \nto county convention, 1774, 850. \n\nPenniman, William, of Braintree, 835 ; \nappointed to obtain evidence against \nTories, 1777, 853. \n\nPenobscot. 24, note, 308, 912 ; expedi- \ntion to, 1778, 874. \n\n, Indians, captured by Weymouth, \n\nprotected by Gorges, 1605; 23^, note, \n117 ; Gorges trades with, 119. \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\n1049 \n\n\nPepperell, General Sir William , at Louis- \nburg, 704. \n\nPepys, Samuel, cited, 7G'2. \n\nPequot Indians not affected by pesti- \nlence of 1 01 6 -7, 4 ; strengtli of, 1034, \nib. ; dangers feared from, 1623, 1()'2 ; \ntroubles with, one cause of fast-day, \n1037, 437 ; fear of trouble with, 1037 ; \n451. \n\n, war, men furnished by Weymouth \n\nin, 340 ; Wilson attends military cam- \npaign, 403; Boston church-members \nrefuse to serve in, 401 ; termination \nof, 400; 480; Stoughton's return \nfrom, 470 ; Uuderhill serves in, 551 ; \n571. \n\nPerkins, Thomas Handasyd, funds for \nbuilding Quiucy granite railway sup- \nplied by, 920. \n\nPestilence among Mass. Indians, 1016-7, \n1-4, 9-12 ; among Connecticut Indians, \n\n1034, 2-3 ; at Charlestown, 1030, 235- \n7 ; at Salem, 1030, 240, 241 ; at Brain- \ntree, 1775, 802. \n\nPeters, Hugh, 347, 371, 372 ; comes to \nNew England with Sir Harry Vane, \n\n1035, 374 ; his character, ib. ; appoint- \ned to Salem church, vice Roger Wil- \nliams, 375.; his career as luiuister, \nib. ; sent to England, 1041, as agent \nof the colony, ib. ; serves in parlia- \nmentary army, ib. ; his services as \nsoldier and preacher, ib. ; abuse of \nLaud, ?7>. ; at the trial of Charles I., \nib. ; walks with Milton at funeral of \nCromwell, ib. ; trial and execution \nas a regicide, 370 ; rebukes Vane, \n423 ; their subsequent friendly rela- \ntions in England, 425, note ; at exam- \nination of Mrs. Hutchinson, 420-8 ; in- \ntroduces Laud's practices in General \nCourt. 440; 456; at synod of 1037, \n470 ; 470 ; at trial of Mrs. Hutchinson, \n480 ; gives evidence, 492 ; cause of his \nbitterness, 493 ; his testimony, 494 ; \nbrowbeats Coggeshall, 490 ; 497 ; ex- \namines Cotton, 498 ; testimony under \noath, 507 ; his conduct towards Cot- \nton at trial, 514 ; joins in attack on \nMrs. Hutchinson, after her confes- \nsion, 528, 529 ; compared with Loyola, \n505; Endicott his mouthpiece, 572; \n577. \n\nPetersham, Worcester County, Mass., \n920. \n\nPetfree, , captain of French man-of- \nwar, befriends Gibbons, 3;37. \n\nPew system permitted in Braintree \nmeeting-house, 1098, 735. \n\nPhiladelphia, the southern limit of \nPlymouth Company territory, 1620, \n122 ; John Adatiis goes a delegate to \nCongress at, 1774, 850 ; he returns \nfrom, 8.55; letter from, 1775, 858; \n8.59 ; goes to, 803 ; 805 ; returns from, \n1777, 880 : cider sent from Quiucy to \nPresident Adams at, 686. \n\n\nPhilip II. of Spain, 248, noH ; model of \nCliarlesl., 270, 470, 501. \n\nPhilip, Indian king, 320 ; war with, 059, \n827, 828-9. \n\nPhillips, George, minister at Watertown, \ndeath of, 1630, 237 ; 417 ; not under \nCovenant of Grace, 427 ; at Mrs. \nHutchinson's trial, 486 ; Mather's no- \ntice of, ib.., note. \n\nPhipps, Sir William, Governor, 760 ; in \nQuebec expedition, 1090, 830. \n\nPickering, Edward, attempts to inform \nPlymouth of Weston's expedition, \n1022, 50 ; 57. \n\nPierce, William, the master of ship \nLyon, 339. \n\nPilgrims of Plymouth, Weston's influ- \nence in their settlement in North \nAmerica, 45-51 ; their amended agree- \nment with him for aid and .supplies, \n1021,50; their first shipment to him \nin the Fortune, ib. ; abandoned by \nhim, 51 ; learn the way to Damaris- \ncove Islands, and establish a station \non the Kennebec, 54 ; at Province- \ntown, 1020, 125; their reception of \nThomas Weston, 147. See Plymouth. \n\nPiscataqua River, settlement, Thomas \nWe-ston sheltered at, 140 ; David \nThompson builds house at, 192, 329 ; \nincreased by people from Winthrop's \nparty, 1030, 230; Sir C. Garduier's \nplans of refuge at, 255 ; 309, 316, 353, \n354, 357 ; Wheelwright removes to, \n482 ; settlers warned against Under- \nbill, 554; Underbill made governor of, \n555 ; deposed, 550 ; called Dover, ib. \n\nPitt, William, Lord Ch tham, 1756, 835, \n830. \n\nPlague, see Pestilence. \n\nPlough patent, or Lygonia claim to \nMaine, 314 ; sold by Cleeve to Sir Al- \nexander Rigby, 314 ; his claim sus- \ntained by Parliament, 315 ; 344. \n\nPlymoutli, England, Sir Ferdinando \nGorges, governor of, 10(> ; reappointed, \n1001, 117 ; Oldham's return to, 212 ; \nBraintree privateers, confined in, \n1781,879. \n\nPlymouth Company, England, incorpo- \nrated 1000, by royal patent, to Pop- \nham and Gorges, 118 ; extent of terri- \ntory granted to, ih. : exploring par- \nties sent to America by, 1006 and 1607, \nib. ; reorganized by Gorges under new \ncharter, 1020; 121, territory granted \nto, 122 ; jurisdiction conferred by \n1020 charter, 123; assailed by the \nVirginia Company, 1021, 120-7 ; reor- \nganized under mnip of Council for \nNew England, 1022, 131. \n\nPlymoi-.th. New England, small-pox epi- \ndemic at. 1034, 3 ; excursion from, in \nBoston Bay, under Standish, 13-18 ; \nPatuxet its Indinn name, 23; visited \nby Dermer, 1019, 26 ; land allotted to \nHobamack, 33; first harvest, 34-5; \n\n\n1050 \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\nalarm of conspiracy planned by \nSquanto, 38 ; people from the ship \nSparrow visit, 1G2'2, 51 ; 52 ; Weston's \nselfisli purposes, 55 ; his projected ex- \npedition reported from London, 5tJ ; \n57 ; magistrates remonstrate with \nWeston's settlers, Gl ; Greene dies at, \nIG'2'2, G'2 ; severity of winter, 1G22-3, \nG3; scarcity of provisions, o5 ; Coun- \ncil protests against Saunders' extor- \ntions of food from Indians, G7 ; \nalarmed by revelation of plot to de- \nstroy Wessagusset, 74, 811 ; constructs \na fort for defence, 74 ; insecurity in \ndangers from Indians, 75 ; measures \ntaken for defence, 1GJ3, 75-6 ; mor- \ntality at, 1623, 77 ; Phineas Pratt's \nexpedition to, 1623, 86; 88-9 ; fort of \n1623, an Indian its first prisoner, 98; \nGovernor of, one of Robert Gorges' \nCouncil in New England, 141 ; Thomas \nWeston comes destitute to, 1623, 147 ; \nprovided with means for trade at, \nib. : visited by R. Gorges, 148, conten- \ntion over Weston, 148-9; settlement \nnearly destroyed by fire, November 5, \n1623, 150; peril of the colony, ib.; \nWeston, released from arrest, appears \nat, 154 ; Morell returns to England \nfrom, 156 ; assistance rendered Gorges' \npeople at Wessagusset, ib. ; not a good \ntrading station, 159 ; establishment \nof trading stations at Hull, on the \nKennebec and in Connecticut, 160 ; \nMorton at, 174, note; considered a \nprofane man, 169 ; first Christmas \nday at, 1621, 180-1 ; scandalized by \nMi»rton's May-day revels, 181, 182 ; \ndistance from Merry Mount, 194 ; \ncolonists abstain from trade in fire- \narms with Indians, 195; their alarm \ncaused by Morton's trade, 197 ; num- \nber of people at, 1628, 198 ; measures \ntaken for common safety in dangers \nfeared from Morton, 201 ; magistrates \nadmonish him, ib. ; Morton returns \nto, with Allerton, 224 ; 240 ; its pros- \nperity inferior to that of Mass. Bay, \n269 ; its people called Separatists, \n322 ; visited by the magistrates of \nMass. Bay, 338 ; visited by Thomas \nMorton, 314 ; no copy of New English \nCanaan there, ib. ; Morton permitted \nto remain at, 345 ; Allerton its agent \nat London, 1629, to secure a new pa- \ntent. 223 ; character of the people of, \n364 ; refuge refused Mrs. Hutchinson, \n536 ; no road from Boston, 1637, 581 ; I \nthe road of 1639, 666-7 ; road of 16.55, j \n671 ; residence of Isaac Allerton, .598 ; ' \n666 ; its size in 1G55, 671 ; Judge Sew- j \nall's journey from, 1712, 679 ; John \nand Priscilla Alden of, 714 ; 927. \n\nPocahontas, 104. \n\nPoint Allerton, 14, note; named for \nIsaac Allerton, 20 ; proposed fortifica- ! \ntionof, 1776, 867; 911. I \n\n\nPoint Judith, Narragansett Bay, named \nfor Judith Quincy, 700. \n\nPoint Sliirley, formerly Pullen Point, \nGibbons' residence at, 358. \n\nPokanoket Indians, tlieir region, 23 ; \n24, note; 28; Sir C. Gardiner takes \nrefuge witli, 255. \n\nPole's Synopsis, a favorite book in early \nNew England, 391. \n\nPolitics, discussion of, in New England \ntaverns, 783-4 ; in Quincy, 945 el seq. \n\nPolk, James K., elected president, 1844, \n953. \n\nPollocks Rip, Cape Cod, 63. \n\nPope, Alexander, 772 ; 806. \n\nPopham, George, President of Maine \nColony, dies, 118. \n\nPopham, Sir John, Chief Justice of Eng- \nland, his effort to prevent Essex in- \nsurrection, 108; confined in Essex \nHouse, 109 ; acts as spy on the con- \nspirators, 109-10 ; released by Gorges, \n111 ; sits a judge at Essex trial, 109, \nnote ; with Gorges obtains royal pa- \ntents for America, 117-18; he sends \nout exploring party, 1607, 118; his \nname given to Maine Colony, ib. ; \ndeath in 1607, ib. \n\nPopham Colony, coast of Maine estab- \nlished, 1607, 118 ; it breaks up, 1008, \nib. \n\nPopulation of settlements on Boston \nBiy, 1627, 193; of Braintree, Revolu- \ntion times, 870-1. See Bramtree, \nQuincy, Weyraoutli. \n\nPort Bill for Bcston, 847. \n\nPorter, Benjamin, of Braintree, 834. \n\nPorter, Charles H., at Quincy town- \nmeeting, 1887, 996; first mayor of \nQiiincy. ib. ; his comment on Quizicy \ncity charter, 99S. \n\nPorter, Rev. John, of Bridgewater, joins \nattack on Briant, 638. \n\nPortsmouth, N. H., territory about, \ndrawn by Duke of Buckingham, at \nGreenwich meeting, 1623, 139; 199, \nWalford removes from Charlestown \nto, 336 ; 536 ; Henry Flynt's journey \nto, 1755, 677 ; 787. \n\nPortugal, trade between New England \nand, 698. \n\nPostal facilities, lack of, at Quincy, \nprior to 1795, 803. \n\nPotomac river, the southern limit of \nterritory granted, 1606, to Plymouth \nCompany, 118. \n\nPowder, see Gunpowder. \n\nPratt, Phineas, his journey from Wessa- \ngusset to Plymouth, 86-9, 581,582; \nremains at Plymouth, 90 ; 98 ; his \nstatement as to project for Weston's \nplantation, 130, note; cited as to the \npersons who accompanied Robert \nGorges to New England, 1623, 144, \nnote; 146. \n\nPray, John, player of fiddle in Braintree \nchurch, 1812, 741. \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\n1051 \n\n\nPrayer-book of Church of England, see \nBook of Common Prayer. \n\nPrayers for the Kiup, Christ Church, \nBraiutree, 177G, G33, So'l ; at New \nYork, ib. \n\nPredestination tenet accepted by Vane \nand Cotton, 457. \n\nPresumpscot Falls, 353. \n\nPrice, Ezekiel, on clearance of Boston \nBay of British ships, 1776, 8G8. \n\nPrices current of Revolution time, 790 ; \nrise of, 1775, SGi-5 ; 8G9 ; in 1780, 880 ; \n89-2. \n\nPrimer, New England, 778-9. \n\nPrince, Jolm, overseer of boys, Hing- \nham meeting-house, 738, note. \n\nPrinting press, none in Boston, 1637, \n456. \n\nPrivateers of Revolution, out of Brain- \ntree, 879 ; service of, ib. ; 1793, Quiu- \ncy town-meeting regulations to pre- \nvent, 906. \n\nPrivy Council, England, sustains the \n1620 Plymouth Company charter, 125 ; \nappealed to, for redress by persons \npunished in Mass. Bay, 1632, 263 ; ap- \npealed to by Gorges for abrogation of \nthe Mass. Bay charter, 1632, 2G4 ; re- \nfuses to comply, 266-7 ; 268 ; jurisdic- \ntion of, in colonial cases, 270, its inter- \nference in affairs of Mass. Bay, 1634, \n270 ; 275 ; its establishment of royal \ncommission for New England of 1634, \n278 ; orders return of Mass. Bay char- \nter, 279 ; petitioned by Thayer to con- \nfirm his title to Braintree, 1692, 654. [ \n\nProclamation of James I. prohibiting \ntrade in fire-arms with Indians, 1622, \n195 ; its authority as law discussed, i \n202 • 222. \n\nProvidence, R. I., 466; stage coach | \ncommunication with Boston, 1767, \n677 ; route from, to New York, ib. ; \n828. \n\nProvince of Mass. Bay, created by char- \nter of William and Mary, 747. \n\nProvincetown, 63 ; Mayflower at, 1620, \n125. \n\nPrynne, William, 248, nofe : his punish- \nment for the Histrio-Mastix, 262, and \nnote : compared with that ordered for \nRatcllff, 262. \n\nPsalmody in church service, 739^1 ; \nthat of Quincy church discussed in \ntown-meeting, 907. \n\nPuddington, Ivory, disciplined at Aga- \nmenticus, 312. \n\nPuffer, James, of Braintree, 720. \n\nPuget Sound, 122. \n\nPullen Point, now Point Shirley, 358. \n\nPunishments, Mass. town-schools, 938. \n\nPurchase, Thomas, marries Mary Grove, \n2;38. \n\nPurgatory, a common name for pauper \nsettlements, 722. \n\nPuritans, forces in England, 107 ; Essex \ntheir hero, 107, 116 ; Gorges not allied \n\n\nwith, 142; their removal from Eng- \nland, influences the granting Mass. \nBay charter, 272, 274 ; Laud's antago- \nnism to, 1637, 297 ; persecuted by huu, \n5t)3 ; adopt tlieir interpretation of the \nBible as the basis of law and govern- \nment, 382 et seq. ; satirized in Huili- \nbras, 81-3 ; contempt for, in Enghmd \nafter Restoration, 83 ; probable effect \nupon, of project for extension of tlie \nChurch of England, 1623, 142; the \nMass. Company composed of, 222 ; in- \ntolerance in religious matters in Mass. \nBay, 1630, 230-1 ; custom of days of \nfasting and prayer, 237 ; their reli- \ngious intolerance discussed, 247-9 ; a \npersecuting race, 574. \n\nPutnam, General Israel, 764. \n\nPym, Jolm, member of Parliamentary \nCommission for plantations, 315 ; 450. \n\nPynchon, William, Assistant of Win- \nthrop's colony, death of, 1630, 237 ; 241. \n\nQuakers, persecuted at Boston, 1659, \n408 and note ; 409-10, 7iote, 542, 549- \n51 ; Mary Dyer joins Society of, 549; \npersecuted by Endicott, 572. \n\nQuarles, Francis, letter to John Cotton, \n332. \n\nQuebec, Colonial expedition of 1690 to, \n758, 760, 830; captured by Wolfe, \n1759, 836. \n\nQuarrjTnen in Quincy politics, W7. \n\nQuincy, Ann, daughter of Daniel and \nAnna Qiuncy, 706. \n\nQuincy, Anna, widow of Daniel, marries \nMoses Fiske, 615, 678, 707. \n\nQuincy, Daniel, son of Edmund 3d, and \nJoanna Hoar, 701 ; father of John, ib. ; \nhis ancestry, 704 ; 706 ; marries Anna \nShepard, 1682, 706 i 707 ; Se wall's ac- \ncount of marriage, ib. ; his children, \nib. ; death, 1690, ib. ; his career, 707 ; \nhis widow marries Moses Fiske, 615 ; \n678. \n\nQuincy, Dorothy, \" Dorothy Q.,\" daugh- \nter of Edmund 4th and Dorothy Flynt, \nher descendants, 60.5. \n\nQuincy, Dorothy [2(1], wife of John Han- \ncock, 605 ; her marriage, 1775, 680. \n\nQuincy, Edmund [1st], of Achurch, \nNorthamptonshire, England, 700. \n\nQuincy, Edmund [2d], born, 1601, died, \n1637, and wife Judith, English Puri- \ntans, 700 ; first of family to come to \nNew England, ib. : assessor at Boston, \n1634, 323 ; proprietor of Mount WoUas- \nton, 365, 546, 700, 704 : further acqui- \nsition of land, 16;>4, 5&3 ; 917. \n\nQuincy, Colonel Edmund [;>d], born, \n1627, died, 1698, son of Edmund and \nJudith, husband [1] of Joanna Hoar, \n[2] Elizabeth [Gookin] Eliot; father \nof Daniel and Edmund, his career, \n700-1 ; builder of mansion at Brain- \ntree, 1685, 605, 619, note., 680, 700 ; \nopposes erection of new meeting- \n\n\n1052 \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\nhouse, 1695, 611 ; 1692, author of ad- \ndress to King, (154 ; G5o ; his two car- \npets, GS4 : 75(), 7(JU ; of Coiauiittee of \nSafety, 11589, 818 ; 8J1, 8_'L' ; reports \nfaihire of iuipressinent, at Braintree, \n1G90. 830; his death and burial, ltW8, \n701 ; iiis widow's funeral, 1700, 078-9. \n\nQuincry, Judge Edmund [4th], sou of \nEdmund 3d, and Elizabeth [Gookin] \nEliot, b. 10«1, d. 1738, 701 ; mirries \nDorothy Flynt, 1K)5 ; 010 ; 702 ; argu- \nment for taxing Episcopalians for sup- \nport of town minister, 1704, 023 ; his \npublic services, 702 ; death at Loudon, \nib. ; buried in Binihill Fields, ib. ; \nmonument erected by General Court, \nib. ; his sous, Edmuud and Josiah, ib. ; \n954. \n\nQuincy, Edmund [5th], son of Edmund \n4th, and Dorothy Flynt, 702 ; typical \nof New England gentry, 713. \n\nQuincy, Edmund, son of Josiah 3d, his \nUfe of Josiah Quincy cited, 910-12. \n\nQuincy, Elizabeth, daughter of John, \nwife of Wm. Smith, mother of Abi- \ngail, Mrs. John Adams, gives a grand- \nson her father's name, 711 ; her \ndeath, 803. \n\nQuincy, John, son of Daniel and Anna, \nborn, 1089, 015, 617 ; 663, 706 ; Mount \nWollaston farm, a legacy from his \ngrandmother Shepard, 707 ; graduate \nof Harvard, 1708, ib. : marriage with \nElizabeth Norton, 1715, ib. ; builds \nhouse at Mount Wollaston, 681, 707 ; \nhis public services, 707-9 ; loss of \ncolonelcy of Suffolk regiment, 1742, \n715 ; his character, 709-10 ; his name \ngiven to town of Quincy, 711, 904; \nperpetuated by his great grandson, \nJohn Quincy Adams, ib. : typical of \nhis time 709, and of New England \ngentry, 713 ; of the Hampden, Wash- \nington class, 710 ; his grave unknown, \nib. ; 762 ; of Braintree school commit- \ntee, 1730, 901 ; and 1739, 776 ; offend- \ned by election of his son as constable, \n1756, 825-0 ; his last appearance at \ntown-meeting, 1758, 838 ; John Adams \ndrinks tea with, Christmas, 1765 ; \n708, 840; Mrs. Richard Cranch his \ngranddaughter, 904 ; 917. \n\nQuincy, Mrs. John, 1765, mentioned by \nJohn Adams, 708. \n\nQuincy, Josiah [1st], son of Edmund \n4th, and Dorothy Flynt, named for \nhis grandfather Flynt, 005, 702; ac- \nquires wealth by capture of Spanish \ntreasure ship, 703; his quiet life, at \nBraintree, ib. ; friend of Franklin, \n704; serves as Commissioner of Mass. \nFrench War, ib. ; his son Josiah, Jr., \nib. : of Committee on town commons, \n17.j3, 663; 1761, gives fifty dollars for \nBraintree roads, 074 ; use made of it, \n675 ; Colonel of Suffolk Regiment, \n703; chosen to tune the psalm in \n\n\nmeeting-house, 1723, 739 ; 740 ; elected \n\nconstable, 825, fined for refusing office, \nib. ; 834 ; anti-stamp-act candidate \nfor selectman, 1706, 843; a delegate \nto Boston convention, 849 ; 856 ; on \nmilitary camps about Biaintree, 1775, \n864 ; 1775, watches ship carrying Gage \nto England, ib. ; reports to Washing- \nton observations of British fleet in \nBoston Bay, March, 806-7 ; 871 ; 1780, . \nliis unfortunate money transactions \nwith town, 881 ; town-meeting orator, \n907. \nQuincy, Josiah, Jr., 1744-75, sou of Jo- \nsiah 1st, public cireer, 704 ; defends \nCaptain Preston, ib. ; patriot agent at \nLondon, 1774, ib. ; his death, 1775; \nib. ; his widow at Braintree, 1775, 856. \nQuincy, Jo.siah [3d], 1772-1864, son of \nJosiah, Jr., 704; his wife's account of \nQuincy church, 741 ; his home at \nQuincy, 850 ; President of Harvard \nCollege, ib.., 910; recollections of de- \nparture of Mrs. Adams for England, \n1784, 888 ; his opinion as to the severi- \nty of early magistrates, 248, note ; in \nconveyance of title of graveyard to \ntown of Quincy, 1809, 906; life of, \ncited, as to ship Constitution in Bos- \nton Buy, 910-12. \nQuincy, Jo.siah, Jr. [4th], son of Josiah \n\n3d, Figures of the Past cited, 909. \nQuincy, Josiah [Gth], one of authors of \n\nQuincy city charter, 1888, 997. \nQuincy, Judith, wife of Edmund 2d, \n\n700. \nQuincy, Judith, daughter of Edmund \n2d, and Judith, her descendant mar- \nries a Sewall, 700 ; Point Judith, Nar- \nragansett Bay, named for her, ib. \nQuincy, Norton, son of John, 711; de- \nclines oflSce of constable, 1756, 825; \naccepts, 1757, 826 ; presides over \nBraintree Stamp Act meeting, 1765, \n839 ; 1767, elected selectman, 846 ; \nhead of Braintree Committee of Safe- \nty, 1774, 850 ; observations of British \nships, 1776, 868 ; 886, 887 ; taxes paid \nat Quincy. 692. \nQuincy, Saer de, a signer of Magna \n\nCharta, 700. \nQuincy, Samuel, entertained at tavern \non admission to the bar, 1758, 788 ; as \na Tory, driven to exile, 854. \nQuincy family, its origin, 699 ; establish- \nment in New England, 700 ; 605 ; not \nof Episcopal church, 632 ; 098 types \nof colonial gentry, 716 ; slaves owned \nby, 923 ; Mrs. Ednimid Quincy's funer- \nal, 1700, 678 ; Sewall's visit at, 1712, \n679 ; 080, 701 ; view from mansion on \nthe bay, 910. \nQuincy Bay defined on Smith's map, 5 ; \nChifkatabot's plantation on, 11 ; 22 ; \nmilitary operations in, 1775, 801-2 ; \nJohn Adams sails from, to Europe, \n1778, 886 ; protected from British, \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\n1053 \n\n\nMarch, 1776, 86G-7 ; ship-building on, I \n9-J4. \nQuincy Point, CI, note. I \n\nQuiucy, town, site of, \"Massachusetts \nFields\" embraced within, 14, note ; \nwithin the territory eranted to Robert \nGorges, 131, note ; Morton's Passona- \ngessit, ll)G ; site of William Hutchin- \nson's house, 531), note ; its records of \nWilliam Coddington, 540 ; Ednunid \nQuincy's mansion at, C79, CSO, 7Ul ; \nJosiah Quincy's dwelling on Hancock \nlot, 703; new spirit of the age in, \n644^5 ; road to Boston, 673 ; character \nin early years of century, 741 ; sur- \nvival of old-time taverns, 793-4 ; prior \\ \nto 1830, daily papers not received at, \n804 ; little accustomed to reading, 805 ; \n857 ; religious development in, 944. \nSee Braintree. \n\n179'2, North Precinct of Braintree, in- ] \ncorporated, 590, 642, 747, 903 ; named , \nfor John Quincy, 701, 004, 905 ; strong ! \nparty for name of Hancock, 904; I \nsmall-pox hospitals, 906 ; \n\n1793, action to preserve national ueu- ! \ntrality, 906 ; | \n\n1812, town-records, void of notice of i \nwar of 1812, 910 ; its militia not in ser- | \nvice, ih. ; alarm on reported arrival of ; \nenemy at Scituate, 911-12 ; joint action j \nwith Hingham and Weymouth for de- \nfence, 912 ; its contribution to expeu- i \nses of war, ib. ; \n\n1826, celebration of July 4, 1826^ 920 ; ' \nday of John Adams' death, ih. ; J. Q. | \nAdams' reflections on visit to, 921 ; \nGranite Railway built, 591 ; 1 \n\n1860-5, war of Rebellion, 9G1-4 ; Charles ; \nFrancis Adams its contribution to i \nnational defence, 961 ; \n\n1888, discussion of incorporation as a \ncity, 996-7; principles of charter of \n1888, 998-1000 ; terms of charter, \n1000-3; \n\n1889, January, becomes a city, 1003. \n, Burying -ground, its condition \n\nprior to 1809, 905-6 ; title to, conveyed i \nto town, 906. i \n\n, Church, 1792, 590; 1792-1800, i \n\nAntliony Wibird, minister of, 642-3 ; i \n1800-43, Peter Whitney, minister, j \n643-4; change from orthodoxy to Uni- ' \ntarianism, 643 ; Mrs. Josiah Quincy's \\ \naccount of, 741 ; 1824, church becomes \nCongregational Society, 748 ; increase | \nof membership, 1639-1739j ib. ; renew- , \nal of covenant by members, 1739, ib. : \nOther religious societies : Congrega- \ntional, 930 ; Episcopal, ib. ; Universal- \nist, ib. ; Evangelical Congregational, \nib. ; Methodist Episcopal, (?>.; Roman \nCatholic, 931-2 ; granite quarry given \nby John Adams to provide material for \na new meeting-hovise, 1822, 919 ; Uni- \nversalist meeting-house built, 1832, \n\n\n, Finances, bad system, 916; rec- \ntified by Greeuleaf, 917 ; town ex- \npenses, subseciuent to 1792, 912-15 ; \ntaxation, 1815-29, 912-13; it.s public \ndebt. 950, 972 ; civil war taxation, 9t;3 ; \n1790-1885, 987. \n\n, Industries, ship-building, 924 ; \n\ngranite quarries, 924-8, their value to \nthe town, 927-8 ; development of tan- \nneries, 928 ; shoemaking, 929-30 ; the \ntown under industrial influences, 930 ; \nchange in its business character, sub- \nse(juent to 1830, 946 et seq. ; occupa- \ntions of inhabitants, 986. \n\n, Libraries, Christ Church, its \n\nlibrary, 804 ; John Adams' library \nbequeatlied to town, 804; 920; free \npublic library established 1871, 940-1 ; \nCrane Memorial HaU, library building, \n942. \n\n, Paupers, 1792, paupers warned \n\nto leave, 723 ; care of, put up at auc- \ntion, 729 ; expense for, prior to 1820, \n730; support of, 914, 916; 917, 918; \nalmshouse built, 1815, 905. \n\n, Political characteristics of, 945 \n\net seq. ; contests in, ib. ; a Federalist \ntown, 909 ; vote of, 915 ; party politics \nin, 915-17 ; influence of the shoemaker \nin, 947; support given to Know-No- \nthiug party, 958-9; effect of labor- \nunions, 1887, 988. \n\n, Population, 689-98; 1810-30; \n\n915 ; 1865, 965, character of commun- \nity, ib. ; 1865-85, 984-5 ; 1875, 954 ; \n1885, 985, note : its foreign-born inhab- \nitants, 1875, 985; of granite village, 928. \n\n, Post-office, estabUshed, 1795, 803. \n\n, Schools, 776-7; 1812-24, 913; \n\n1827-75, 933-40 ; Academy founded by \nJohn Adams, 941. \n\n, Social life, 699-721 ; character \n\nof inhabitants, 915; settlers prior to \n1800, of pure strain of English blood, \n922 ; English names in records, 923 ; \nalien infusion, 946 et seq. \n\n, Temperance reform, 050 ; 1838, \n\nardent spirits provided for town labor- \ners, 792 ; people opposed to temper- \nance, 1840, 975. \n\n, Towni Hall, burnt and rebuilt \n\ntemporarily, 905 ; site of new one, ib. ; \nthe permanent building, 918 ; scene in, \npictured, 969. \n\n, Town-meeting, refuses to ati- \n\nthorize vaccination, 1809, 906 ; its \n\n\nI protest against privateering, 1793, ib. ; \nj regulates tolling of bell, 907 ; buys \nI bass-viol for meeting-house, 1804, \n' 906-7 ; management of clnirch affairs, \n907 ; psalmody, ib.; salary of minister, \n908; church music discussed, ib. ; ad- \nministration of goverimient under, \n916-18 ; development of, 918 ; 966 et \nseq. ; causes derangement of public \nbusiness, 971 et seq. ; reform caused \nby J. Q. Adams, 2d, 1870, 973, »hangea \n\n\n1054 \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\nin municipal system of, 982-3 ; its mod- \nem needs, ib. ; growth of business, \n98G ; articles for consideration at, 1857, \n989 ; revolt caused by labor-unions, \n990 et seq. ; story of the last, 1887, \n990-6 ; 1888, lOOG-7 ; adoption of city \ncharter, 1007-8. \nQuonaliassit, i. e. Cohasset, Indian quar- \nrel with Smith at, 5. \n\nRabelais, 390. \n\nRailway at Quincy, for carrying granite, \n926. \n\nRaleigh, Sir Walter, 45 ; compared with \nGorges, 105 ; wlio was connected with \nfamily of, 100 ; informed of the Essex \nplot, 1601, 113 ; 317. \n\nRainsford Island, Boston Bay, 911. \n\nRahl, Johann Gottlieb, Hessian com- \nmander, 874. \n\nRandolph, Edward, 624. \n\nRanters, religious sect, persecuted at \nBoston, 542. \n\nRasdell, , in charge at Passonages- \n\nsit, 168 ; turns over the colony to \nFitcher, ib. ; supposed to have come \nwith WoUaston's servants, 1626, 174 ; \nfollows him to Virginia, 1G26, ib. \n\nRatcliff, Philip, 250 ; his offence at \nSalem, 1631, 259; 261 ; mitigation of \npunishment, ib. ; a servant of Gov. \nCraddock, ib. ; 206 , his case described \nby Morton, 259 ; his encounter with \nThomas Dexter, 200; his sentence \ncompared with Prynne's, 262 ; witness \nfor Gorges in attack on charter, 1632, \n263 et seq. ; 268 ; 1634, witness before \nPrivy Council, against Mass. Bay Com- \npany. 278 ; his statement as to religious \naffairs at Boston, 279 ; 283, 347. \n\nRaw.son, Edward, Secretary of Mass. \nBay, 306. \n\nRawson, Jonathan, of Braintree, 835. \n\nRawson, William, his offspring, 609 ; per- \nmitted a family pew in meeting-house, \n1098, 753 ; 823. \n\nReading in colonial New England, 804-6. \n\nRebellion in Mass., Shays', 1786-7, 893, \n895, 896, 897. \n\nRebellion in United States, 1860-5, 957. \n\nReconciliation meeting, 1036, Dudley and \nWinthrop, 377-80. \n\nRedemptioners, bound servants, in colo- \nnial times, 722. \n\nRegicides, execution, at Charing Cross, \n376, note. \n\nRevell, Thomas, of Braintree, 724, 819. \n\nRevenue bills introduced in Parliament, \n1767, 846-7. \n\nRevivals in religion, New England, 1735- \n41, 749. \n\nRevolution, war of, 641 ; 642 ; Braintree's \nimmunity from trouble in time of, \n827 ; 1766 election its fir.st struggle of, \n843 ; the new phase after evacuation \nof Boston, 868-9; difficulties after \n1776, in Massachusetts, 869 et seq. ; \n\n\nincapacity and improper methods in \nconduct of, 874 : fiuances, 883 et seq. \n\nRheumatism, ui colonial times, 800. \n\nRhode Island, Winslow's first excursion \nto, 1621, 10; Morton visits, 1644, 340 ; \nWilliam Coddington the father of, 3, \n678-9; journey from Plymouth, 1712, \n679; winter weather 1716, 682; mar- \nriage of Daniel Quincy, 1682, 706 ; \ndeatli of Mrs. Brattle, ib. ; gives Mrs. \nJolm Quincy a psalm-book, 707 ; psalm- \ntuner. South Church, Boston, 739 ; \nhis blunder in tuning, ib. ; prayer for \npeace in Braintree Middle Precinct \nchurch, 740 ; 741 ; on dog fighta in \nchurch, 744. \n\nSliakespeare, 119, 390, 537 ; his works in \nhouses of colonial gentry, SOS. \n\nShannon, British man-of-war, engage- \nment witli U. S. Chesapeake, 911. \n\nShawmut, afterwards Boston, 167 ; in- \ncluded in territory granted to Endi- \ncott, 211 ; 239, 252 ; Blackstone's resi- \ndence at, 322. \n\nShays, Daniel, his rebellion in Mxssa- \nchusetts, 1786, 893, 895, 89C, 897, 899, \n995. \n\nSheep Island, Boston Bay, Braintree \nmen drive British foraging party from, \n1775, 857. \n\nSheffield, Lord, 210. \n\nShepard, Anna, grand-daughter of Rev. \nThomas Shepard, marries 1st, 1682, \nDaniel Quincy, 707 ; 2d, 1701, Moses \nFiske, 615, 678, 706, 707 ; John Quincy \nher son, ib. ; death of, 1708, ib. \n\nShepard, Thomas, minister of Cam- \nbridge, said by Mrs. Hutchinson not \nto preach Covenant of Grace, 427 ; \nsilenced by Laud from preaching in \nEngland, 447 ; 456 ; at Synod of 1037, \n470; 484; at trial of Anne Hutchin- \nson, 487 ; dissatisfied with her confes- \nsion, 525 ; in her further persecution, \n526; 5-29, 530; his New England's \nLamentations, cited, 564, note ; his \nwife, daugliter of William Tyng, 707 ; \nhis grand-daughter, wife of Daniel \nQuincy, 706, 707 ; and of Rev. Moses \nFi.ske, ib. ; at wedding of Daniel \nQuincy, 70G. \n\nShepard, Mrs. Thomas, daughter of \nWilli.am Tyng, inherits Mount Wollas- \nton farm, 1661, 707 ; slie bequeaths \nsame to grandson, John Quincy, ib. ; \ndeath of, 1709, ib. \n\nShephard, , fined for drinking, 35G. \n\nSherman, Goodwife, her quarrel with \nCaptain KeajTie, 456. \n\nSliip-building on Quincy Bay, 924. \n\nSiii|>money tax, writs of 1G35, 290, 295, \n296 ; English judges in favor of, 299, \n302, 306. \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\n1057 \n\n\nShirl«y, Governor William, negatives \nelection of Paul Dudley a delegate to \nGeneral Court, 70S. \n\nShoemakers in Quiiuy politics, 947. \n\nShoemakiug industry at Quincy, 1)29-30. \n\nShoals, Isle of, touched by ship Spar- \nrow, IG'2'2, 52 ; Morton removed from \nPlymouth to, IS'iS, 207. \n\nShrewsbury, Mass., Jolm Adams' ac- \ncount of evening at, 1774, 783-4. \n\nShrimp, Captain, Morton's name for \nStandish, 205. \n\nSidney, Sir Philip, 317. \n\nSimou, Bishop of Ely, Commentaries of, \nin Christ Church library, Quincy, 804. \n\nSkelton, Rev. Samuel, 225. \n\nSketwarroes, Indian said to have been \nkidnapped, 24, note. \n\nSlany, John, Squanto in his service at \nLondon, 25. \n\nSlaves owned at Braintree, 923. \n\nSlave - trade, Braintree discontinues, \n1775, 855. \n\nSlavery question in Quincy politics, 955, \n95G. \n\nSleswick, origin of town-meeting gov- \nernment traced to, 980. \n\nSluys, Gorges at siege of, 106. \n\nSmaU - pox epidemic among Indians, \n1C33-4, 3, 4 ; periodical epidemics of, \ncolonial times, 801 ; hospitals, Quincy, \n1792, 906. \n\nSmelt Brook, Roxbury, 238. \n\nSmith, Elizabeth, wife of Rev. William, \ndaughter of John Quincy, mother of \nAbigail, Mrs. John Adams, gives a \ngrandson her father's name, 711 ; her \ndeath, 1775, 863. \n\nSmith, Sir Hugh, his widow, wife of Sir \nF. Gorges, 315. \n\nSmith, Captain John, describes Massa- \nchusetts, 1614, 4-5 ; Indian attack on \nFrench traders, 1614, 8 ; 19, 23, 45 ; \ncornpared with Gorges, 105 ; com- \nmands expedition sent to New Eng- \nland, 1615, 119 ; his enthusiasm for \nNew England, 134; cited, 134-5; \nabout Greenwich meeting, 1623, 139 ; \nliis map of New England, ib. ; 152, \n157, 163 ; Passonagessit on his map, \n167 ; mouth of Charles River inaccu- \nrately represented, 231-2 ; Scrooby, \nEngland, his birthplace, 369. \n\nSmith, Rev. Ralph, not permitted to \nremain at Salem, 230 ; takes tempo- \nrary residence at Nantasket, 231. \n\nSmith, Toulmin, cited, 1005. \n\nSmith, WiUiam, minister of Weymouth, \nhis wife, daughter of John Quincy, \n711 ; father of Mrs. John Adams, ib. ; \nand of Mrs. R Cranch, 904; his \nchurch burned, 1752, 743 ; sermon on \nStamp Act, 841 . \n\nSnake in Cambridge meeting-house, \n600. \n\nSocial rank rule, in Harvard catalogue, \n733 ; in meeting-house seats, 738. \n\n\nSociety for Propagation of the Gospel, \nLondon, library sent to Christ Church, \nBraintree, 1701, 622, 804 ; aid to \nchurch, 622. \n\nSouthampton, England, the Mayflower \njoins the Speedwell at, 47 ; dispute \nbetween Pilgrims and Weston at, \n1020, ib., 50 ; 125. \n\nSouthampton, Henry Wriothesley, Earl, \nassociated with Gorges in expedition \nto Martha's Vineyard, 1614, 119; of \nthe Plymouth Company, 122. \n\nSouth Boston, 233, 910. \n\nSouth Church, Boston, Judge Sewall its \npsalm-tuner, 739. \n\nSouthcot, Richard, emigrant in the Mary \nand John, 232. \n\nSouther, , of Braintree, 914. \n\nSouther, Francis L., of Quincy, killed \nat Big Bethel, Va., 1861, 962, 963. \n\nSouth Precinct, Braintree, schools in, \n1790, 901. \n\nSouth Virginia Company, 124. \n\nSpain, English expedition against Ferrol, \n1597, 106 ; vessels of, capture Gorges' \nexpedition, 1606, 118 ; 270 ; war with, \n275 ; 476 ; trade between New Eng- \nland and, 698; war with England, \n1718, 703 ; treasure ship of, captured \nby Yankee merchantman, ib. \n\nSparrow, ship, sent by Weston and \nBeauchamp to coast of Maine, 1622, \n51, 58, 59, 130 ; arrival at Plymouth, \n42-3, 52; letters to the Pilgrims, \nbrought by, 52-3. \n\nSpear, Nathaniel, of Braintree, 720. \n\nSpear, Samuel, in Braintree records, \n725 ; his insane sister, ib. ; 726, 818, \n820. \n\nSpecial providences, Puritan belief in, \n503. \n\nSpectacle Island, Boston Bay, 867. \n\nSpectator, Addison's, in houses of co- \nlonial gentry, 805. \n\nSpeedwell, sails from Delft Haven, Au- \ngust 1, 1620, and joins Mayflower, 47. \n\nSpenser, Edmund, 390. \n\nSpirit-drinking in colonial New England, \n785 et seq. ; its effects, 791. \n\nSpiritual Milk for American Babes, by \nJohn Cotton, a school-book, 778-9. \n\nSports and games in New England, 179- \n81. \n\nSports, Book of, by King James, 336. \n\nSprague, the three brothers, Ralph, \nRichard and William, come to New \nEngland in ship George, 1629, 217 ; set- \ntle at Mishawum, ib. : they name the \nplace Charlestown, 218 ; addition to \ntheir party mider Thomas Graves, ib. \n\nSpringfield, Mass., property of Saltou- \nstall at, 365. \n\nSpring Gate, Boston, 238. \n\nSpring Lane, Boston, 238. \n\nSquanto, or Tisquantum, Indian of Po- \nkanoket tribe, kidnapped, 23-4, 25 ; \ntaken to England by Dermer, 1615, 25 ; \n\n\n1058 \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\nreturns with him to New England, ib . ; \nsaves Dermer's life, 26 ; his name \ngiven to Squantuni, 21, 22 ; teaches \nPlymouth people to plant corn, 21 ; \nother services to them, ib. ; tells of \nthe beaver, 35 ; a guide to Standish, \n1621, 15 ; urges plundering of squaws, \n18 ; interpreter in embassy to Massa- \nsoit, 30-1 ; also to redeem boy stolen \nby Indians, 31 ; important to Plym- \nouth, 33-4 ; challenged by Canonicus, \n35, jealous of Hobamack, 36-7 ; his \nconspiracy, 37 ; his death demanded \nby Massasoit, 1622, 41 ; compliance \nevaded, 42-3 ; pilots Swan around \nCape Cod, 43, 62 ; obtains food for \nWessagusset, (;3 ; his death, 29, 44, 62, \n64, 105 ; Bradford's tribute to, 29. \nSquautum, Mass., 14, note, 15, 19 ; ori- \ngin of name, 20, 21, 22 ; 34, 167 ; set- \ntlement at, 183 ; first occupied by Da- \nvid Thompson, 191 ; residence of his \nwidow, 321 ; 583, 699, 868 ; colonial \nmilitia stationed at, 1775, 860 ; 861 ; \nproposed fortifications, 1776, 867. \nSquaw Rock, another name for Squan- \n\ntum, 21, note. \nSquaw Sachem, widow of Nanepashe- \nmet, 16 ; Standish's search for, 1621, \n17-18. \nSqueb, Captain Thomas, assistant to \nFrancis West on New England coast, \n1622, 136; in command of Mary and \nJohn, arrives at Hull, 1630, 228 ; lands \npassengers at Nantasket, 231 ; his fa- \nmiliarity with coast, 232 ; his employ- \nment by the Council for New Eng- \nland, ib. : his meeting with Winthrop \nat Nantasket, 1630, 234. \nSquidrayset, Indian sagamore of Casco \nBay, at Richmond Island, 352; his \nparty kill Bagnall, 353. \nStage coaches, Boston and Providence \nline, established 1767, 677 ; between \nBoston and Braintree, ib. \nStamford, Conn., Underbill removes to \n\nfrom New Hampshire, 558, note. \nStamp Act, 1765, 642 ; 1765, Braintree's \nprotest, 838-9 ; John Adams' zeal in \nopposing it, ib. ; 840 ; influence of \nEpiscopalian Church in favor of, ib. ; \nBraintree's instructions to represen- \ntatives on, 849 ; attitude of clergy to- \nwards, 841-2; affects Braintree elec- \ntion, 1766, 842-4; repeal, 1766, rejoi- \ncing at Boston, none at Braintree, \n845 ; effect of repeal, 846. \nStandish. Miles, explores Boston Bay, \n\n1621, 13-22, 583 ; leads expedition to \nsurprise Corbitant, 34 ; 37 ; on expe- \ndition to prevent attack of Indians, \n\n1622, 38 ; 58 ; asked by Indians to set- \ntle near them, 60 ; commands the \nSwan in expedition round Cape Cod, \n1622, 62 ; falls ill on the way, 63 ; re- \nplaced in command by Bradford, ib. ; \nexpedition in search of food, 1623, 66 ; \n\n\nexpedition for food to Manomet, win- \nter of 1622-3, 69; encounter with \nWituwamat, ib. ; repulses him, 70 ; \nhis system with Indians, 70-1 ; ob- \ntains com from Canacum, 71 ; appre- \nhensions from the Indians, ib. ; in \ndefence against the Indians, 1623, 75 ; \nretaliation for insult at Manomet, 76 ; \nhis plan to stop Indian conspiracy, 89 ; \ngoes to Wessagusset, April, 1623, 90 ; \nkills Pecksuot and Wituwamat, 92-3, \n196, 200 ; completes his expedition, \n93-4 ; fails to find Aberdecest, 94 ; \nreturns to Plymouth, 95 ; conveys \nofter of refuge to Wessagusset people, \n96 ; provisions the ship Swan for the \nWessagusset peoi^le, ib. ; takes Witu- \nwamat's head to Plymouth, 97 ; his \nsystem with Indians discussed, 101 ; \n102 ; feared by Indians, 103 ; the \nvalue of his action at Wessagusset, \n103-4 ; his last fight with Indians at, \n104; 136, 167, 183; gives original \nname, Trevore, to Thompson Island, \n191 ; arrests Morton, 1628, 203-4 ; \nloses and recaptures him, 205-6 ; en- \nraged by moderate counsels, 207 ; 209, \n217, 224, 245, 285 ; impatience with \nMorton, 345 ; 351 ; serves in war with \nNarragansetts, 1645, 359 ; 699. \n\nStar Chamber Court, 202; Morton's \ncase before, 221 ; William Pryime \npunished by, 262 ; 1634, 270 ; 278. \n\nStark, General John, 764. \n\nStearns, George, one of three who \nfirst split granite with iron wedges, \n925. \n\n\" Steenie,\" familiar name of Bucking- \nham, 124. \n\nStephenson, George, inventor of loco- \nmotive engine, 926. \n\nStephenson, John, his widow, wife of \nWilliam Blackstone, 324 ; her death, \n325. \n\nStevenson, Marmaduke, Quaker, hanged \non Boston Common, 1659, 408, and \nnote ; 409-10, ?iote ; 550. \n\nStiles, Ezra, account of church proceed- \nings against Mrs. Hutchinson, pre- \nsei-ved by, 518, note. \n\nStirling, Earl, allotted territory in New \nEngland, partition of 1635, 283 ; meet- \ning of Council for New England at hia \nhouse, 1635, 292. \n\nStoke Pogis churchyard, 710. \n\nStone, Rev. Samuel, 466. \n\nStone's tavern, Boston, 1758, 788. \n\nStone Temple, Quincy, 930. \n\nStone-wall, a drink of colonial farm- \nhands, 790. \n\nStoniefield day, July 23, 1637, Laud's \nliturgy rejected in St. Giles' Church, \nEdinburgh, 300. \n\nStony Point, capture of, 874. \n\nStony Siibbath, see Stoniefield day. \n\nStorrs, Richard Salter, minister of Brain- \ntree church, 944. \n\n\nINDEX, \n\n\n1059 \n\n\nSltory, Joseph, cited as to effect of sepa- \nration of fhurcli and state, 590, note. \n\nStoughton, Israel, in conunand of tlie \nMass. troops, Pequot war, 4GG ; per- \nmits Wilson to return to Boston, ib. ; \nreturns from Pequot war, 470 ; ap- \npointed Wlieehvright's keeper while \nin Massachusetts, 481 ; 494, 577 ; \ngranted right to bridge the Nepouset, \n6C8, G70 ; his mill of 1034, 668 ; his \nwidow relieved from obligation to \nmaintain bridge, 1652, 670-1. \n\nStoughton, William, Deputy Gov., his \ndeath, 1701, 719. \n\nStratford, Earl of, see, Wentworth, \nThomas. \n\nStrong, Caleb, Federalist governor of \nMass., 909-10. \n\nStrongbow in Ireland, 652. \n\nStuart dynasty of England, overthrown, \n817. \n\nStubs, Philip, May-day in England, 1585, \n182. \n\nStudy hill, William Blackstone's home \nin Rhode Island, 325. \n\nSudbury, Mass., 136. \n\nSuffolk County, Mass., noted for free \nschools, 1719, 766 ; intemperance in, \n1750, 788. \n\nSuffolk regiment, commanded by Ed- \nward Gibbons, 358 ; Edmund Quiucy \n[4th], colonel of, 702 ; Josiah Quincy \n[1st], colonel of, 703 ; John Quincy \nmajor of, 707 ; John Gooch takes \ncolonelcy from John Quincy, 1742, 708, \n715 ; John Adams [1st] declines cap- \ntaincy in, 708, 715 ; John Marshall's \nservices in, 717, 718 ; its character, \n765; called out, rebellion of 1786, \n897. \n\nSulpicius, 452. \n\nSumner, W. H., cited as to Maverick, \n329, note. \n\nSunday in colonial times, 803 ; books \nread, ih. ; John Adams' observance of, \n806 ; tedium of, ib. ; Sunday law, \nMass., 893. \n\nSuperior, Lake, 122. \n\nSuperstition in New England, 388-9. \n\nSurrey, Earl of, his land in New Eng- \nland, partition of 1635, 283. \n\nSwallow, ship, 86. \n\nSwan, vessel fitted out by Weston for \ntrade with New England, 1622, 54 ; \nbrings the main part of his 1622 com- \npany, 58 ; 59 ; returns to Plymouth, \nAugust, 1622, 60 ; expedition for food \nround Cape Cod, 62 ; returns to Boston \nBay, 64 ; continues search, ib. ; aban- \ndoned by Bradford, 65 ; Indian plot to \nseize her, 85 ; 90 ; provisioned for \ntransportation of Weston's people, 96 ; \n146, 147 ; seized by R. Gorges, 150-1 ; \nGorges sails in, spring of 1624, 152 ; \nrestored to Weston, 154. \n\nSwine, Saxon law forbidding, in church- \nes, 745, note. \n\n\nSymraes, Sarah, wife of Moses Fiske, 609. \n\nSynmies, Zachariah, miuister of Charles- \ntown, doubts Mrs. Hutchinson's ortho- \ndoxy, 397 ; 476 ; attends her trial, \n486-7 ; his evidence at trial, 492 ; his \ndaughter wife of Moses Fiske, ()09. \n\nSynod of 1637 at Cambridge, 467, 468- \n74 ; questions considered by, 472 ; its \ncourse discussed, 562-3 ; sessions held \nin Cambridge meeting-house, 485. \n\nTaft, Rev. , preaches in Braintree \n\nchurch, June 25, 1775, 860. \n\nTanneries, Quincy, 929, \n\nTarratine tribe of Indians not affected \nby pestilence of 1616-17, 4 ; Obbatine- \nwat's fear of 1621, 16 ; 17, 24, note. \n\nTasso, 390. \n\nTattler, in houses of colonial gentry, 805 ; \n809. \n\nTaunt, William, in Braintree records, \n727. \n\nTaunton River, 10 ; 255. \n\nTavern influence. New England, 783 et \nseq.; 809. \n\nTaxation, system of, at Braintree, dur- \ning Revolution, 882 ; 1780, 892 ; 1785, \n899 ; in Mass., 1786, a cause of Shays' \nRebellion, 895-6. \n\nTax-collecting, difficulties of, Braintree, \n823-4. \n\nTax collectors of Braintree, their diffi- \nculties, 882. \n\nTaylor, Major , muster master, 1709. \n\n720. \n\nTaylor, , amount received as select- \nman, 1829, 914. \n\nTaylor, Zachary, President, 955, 956. \n\nTea, not in common use, colonial times, \n785 ; destroyed, Boston Harbor, 1773, \n642; 850. \n\nTeacher of New England churches, \nfunctions of, 596. \n\nTeachers, Quincy schools, support of, \n933-5. \n\nTemperance movement in New England, \n786 ; John Adams' efforts in cause of, \n789-90 ; at Quincy, 975 et seq. \n\nTen Hills, Medford, Gov. Winthrop's \nfarm at, 258, 364. \n\nTennent, Gilbert, 620. \n\nTerry, General Alfred H., in capture of \nFort Fisher, 1865, 705. \n\nTerry family, Coimecticut, descended \nfrom Joanna Hoar, 705. \n\nTexas, annexation of, 955. \n\nThacher, Col. , of Barnstable, 713. \n\nThacher, Oxenbridge, comments on Col. \nThacher of Barnstable, 713. \n\nThayer, Ebenezer, his tavern, Braintree \nMiddle Precinct, 743 ; 834, 835 ; dele- \ngate to General Court, 1766, 845 ; dele- \ngate to Boston convention, 1768, 849; \n1774, delegate to county convention, \n850 ; not elected to General Court, \nJuly 10, 1775, 860 ; 871. \n\nThayer, Ephraim, 660. \n\n\n1060 \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\nThayer, Isaac, 830. \n\nThayer, Jonathan, overseer of poor, \nBraintree, 1786 ; 728. \n\nThayer, Capt. Peter, with company, joins \ncolonial army, 1757, 83C ; 837. \n\nThayer, Richard, 1(J92, his claim under \nIndian land-title to Braintree town- \nship, 654-5 ; in charge of frontier post \non Bridgewater rojwi, 829 ; his char- \nacter and exploits, ib. ; Braintree dis- \nallows his bill, ib. \n\nThayer, Sarah, her offspring, 609 ; com- \nmemorated in verse, ib. \n\nTheer, Isaac, disciplined by Braintree \nchurch, 757-8. \n\nTheological controversies, in history \nand literature, 366. \n\nTheopolis Americana, a favorite book in \nearly New England, 391. \n\nTheocracy in Mass. Bay, 513; extin- \nguished by charter of 1691, 819. \n\nThompson, David, Agent for the Coun- \ncil of New England, 1622, 58 ; considers \nplan of emigration to America, ih. ; \nlearns from Trevore of Boston Bay, \n130, note ; protects Thomas Weston at \nPiscataqua, 146 ; his complaint against \nhim, ib. ; visited at Piscataqua by R. \nGorges, 1624, 152 ; first occupant of \nSquantum and Farm School Island, \n191 ; comes a traveller in 1621, ib. ; \nreceives patent of land in New Eng- \nland, ib. ; settles, 1623, ib. ; removes \nfrom Piscataqua to his island in Boston \nBay, 192 ; title of his island confirmed \nto his son, 193 ; 198, 329 ; his widow a \nresident at Squantum or Thompson's \nIsland, 321 ; 312 ; 582-3. \n\nThompson, John, General Court con- \nfirms his title to Island, 342. \n\nThompson's Island, Boston Bay, Stan- \ndish anchors near, 1621, 13 ; names it \nTrevore, 14 ; 15, 20 ; settlement at, \n183 ; within the territory granted to \nEndicott, 211 ; the residence of David \nThompson's widow, 321 ; granted to \nJohn Thompson by General Court, \n1648, 342 ; sold for debt, ib. ; becomes \nproperty of Lynde family, 1666, ib. ; \n867. \n\nTiconderoga, forces from Mass. at, 1758, \n836. \n\nTisquantum, see Squanto. \n\nTithingmen, overseers of boys in meet- \ning-houses, 746. \n\nTiverton, Joseph Marsh minister of, \n617. \n\nTobacco, early New England settlers \npropose to make it a staple, 219 ; dis- \nlike of it, of James I., ib. ; used as \ncurrency in Virginia, ih. \n\nTocqueville, Alexis de, his \"Democracy \nin America,\" 813 ; his account of town- \nmeeting, 814, 966, 969. \n\nTokamahamon, Indian guide and inter- \npreter, 31 ; brings a challenge to \nSquanto from Canonicus, 35. \n\n\nToleration in religion, secured in Mass. \nby cliarter of 1691, 819. \n\nTompson, Benjamin, Braintree school- \nmaster, 1678-1704, 769 ; liis support, \nib. ; fire-wood for, 769-70 ; graduate \nof Harvard, 709 ; a physician, ib. ; \n771, 772; his character, 771; town- \nclerk, 772 ; his scholarship, ib. ; his \nprogeny, ib. ; buried at Roxbury, ib. ; \na poet, ib. ; 773 ; 936. \n\nTompson, Deacon Samuel, father of \" the \nprodigie of pride,\" 755 ; 757. \n\nTompson, Samuel, disciplined by Brain- \ntree church, 1097, 75^-6. \n\nTompson, William, first minister of \nBraintree church, 1639, 580 ; ordained, \n595 ; length of pastorate, 590 ; his \ncharacter, ih. ; goes a missionary to \nVirginia, 1642, 597 ; shipwrecked, 598 ; \ndriven from Virginia, 599 ; mental in- \nfirmity, 601 ; resignation of pastorate \nand death, 1096, ib. ; 643, 647 ; his son \nschoolmaster of Braintree, 771 ; 773 ; \ngoes chaplain to Indian war, 1645, 828 ; \n908 ; Mather's verses on, 598, 002 ; his \nlack of thrift, ib. ; buried at Quincy, \nib. ; 954. \n\nTory party at Braintree, Episcopalians, \ncomprised in, 032, 840, 850 ; and the \ngentry, ib.; 852 ; persecution of, 853-4. \n\nTown meeting government, inefficient in \nsocial problems, 731 ; system in New \nEngland, 810-26; usual study of its \norigin, 813, 814-15; improved condi- \ntions imder charter of 1891, 819 ; dur- \ning Revolution, 875, 876 ; 930 ; its con- \ndition at Quincy, 905 et seq. ; breaks \ndown, 967 et seq. ; duration of, 981 ; \na scene at one pictured, 970. \n\nTown records of Massachusetts, 813. \n\nTown River, Quincy, 594. \n\nTownshend, Charles, introduces a rev- \nenue bill in Parliament, 1767, 846. \n\nTrade, restrictions imposed on, with \nNew England, 132; 133, note; Plym- \nouth and Wessagusset inconvenient \nfor, 160 ; stations for, established else- \nwhere, ih. ; between New England and \nforeign countries, 097. \n\nTraders on New England coast kidnap \nIndians, 1014-9, 5, 6, 7 ; attacked by \nIndians, 8; number in Boston Bay, \n1628, 197. \n\nTraining-field system in New England, \nits influence, 764. \n\nTranscendentalists, Mrs. Hutchinson, \nVane and Wheelwright forerunners of, \n435. \n\nTravel in New England, 1641-1786, 673-9. \n\nTreaty of peace. United States and Great \nBritain, 17.S3, 803. \n\nTrevore, William, accompanies Standish \nround Boston Bay, 1621, his name \ngiven to Thompson's Island, 14, 191 ; \n58; 120; comes, 1622, to New England \nin the Fortune, 130 ; informs Weston \nand Thompson of Boston Bay, 130, \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\n1061 \n\n\nnote; gives information to Robert \n\nGorges, 136 ; 137, note. \nTrimountaiu, first English name of Bos- \nton, lt)30, 236 ; 2ii6. \nTrinity Church, Newport, 621. \nTrumbull, J. Hammond, cited as to \n\nchurch difficulties at Weymouth, 341, \n\n7iote. \nTucker, Commodore Samuel, U. S. N., \n\nof frigate Boston, 886, 887, 951. \nTully, see Cicero. \nTun of Germany, theory of derivation of \n\ntown-meeting from, 814; 815. \nTupper, Lieut. Colonel, in protection of \n\nQuincy Bay, March, 1776, 867. \nTurner, , Captain of Colonial militia \n\nstationed at Germantown, Mass., 1775, \n\n860. \nTyler, John, President of United States, \n\n952. \nTyng, WiUiam, Boston merchant, buys \n\nfarm at Mount WoUaston, from Cod- \n\ndington, 1639, 707 ; death of, 1061, ib. ; \n\nhe bequeaths farm to his daughter, \n\nMrs. Shepard, ih. \n\nUnderbill, John, Captain of traimband, \ncomes over with Wiuthrop, 551 ; cap- \ntures Gardiner, 256 ; of Mrs. Hutch- \ninson's faction, 552 ; signer of Boston \nremonstrance, 510 ; prosecuted and \ndisfranchised, ih. ; his religious buf- \nfoonery, 511; an \" opinionist,\" ih. ; \nhis character and career, 551 ; a soldier \nunder Prince Maurice, ih. ; answers \nGeneral Court, ib. ; banished, 553 ; \nasks land in New Hampshire, 551 ; fol- \nlows Wheelwright thither, ih., 554; \ncharged with immorality, ib. , 553, 554, \n555 ; his reply, 553 ; Winthrop's ac- \ncount of his conduct, 553-6 ; authori- \nties of Mass. Bay try to destroy his \ncredit in New Hampshire, 554-5; \nchosen Governor of Piscataqua, 555 ; \nwrites threatening letter to Cotton, \nib. ; visits Boston and confesses to \nchurch, ib. ; depofsed from governor- \nship, ib. ; again humiliates himself to \nBoston church, 557 ; received into \ncommunion again, 558 ; resides at \nStamford, Conn. ,ib., note ; removes to \nLong Island, N. Y., fft., note; death \nat Oyster Bay, ^6. ; 568. \n\nUnitarianisra in New England, 643; at \nQuincy, 944, \n\nUnited States Arsenal, Watertown, 233. \n\nUnited States, Articles of Confedera- \ntion, 1778, approved and amended at \nBraintree, 890 ; treaty of peace with \nGreat Britain, 1783, 893; war with \nGreat Britain, 1812-14, 909-12. \n\nUniversalist Religious Society, estab- \nlished at Quincy, 1831, 930. \n\nUntruthfulness an attribute of servility, \n795. \n\nUrsuline Convent, Charlestown, de- \nstroyed, 932. \n\n\nUzzia, Asa and Salem, precedents cited \nin his justification by Wiuthrop, 512. \n\nVaccination, Quincy refuses, 1809, 906. \n\nVan Buren, Martin, nominated for presi- \ndency by Free-Soilers, 1848, 955. \n\nVane, Sir Henry, 1638, at meeting of \nLords Commissioners, 304; his posi- \ntion at Court, 373. \n\nVane, Sir Henry [younger], an ethereal- \nized Puritan, 372 ; his court influence, \n374 ; sent to New England by Charles \nI., ib. ; October, 1635, aged 23, lands \nat Boston, 373 ; Hugh Peters, liis \ncompanion, 374 ; probably, also, Hen- \nry Flynt, 003; admitted to church, \n376 ; 1636, concerned in reconciliation \nof Winthrop and Dudley, 377-9 ; \nchosen governor, 380 ; seen in a vision \nby Mrs. Hutchinson, 399 ; one of her \nadherents, 400 ; supports her in quar- \nrel with Wilson, 411 ; his advanced \nreligious tenets, 413 ; supports project \nto make Wheelwright assistant minis- \nter, 414 ; controversy with Winthrop, \n418-20; loss of popularity, 419; re- \nsolves to return to England, 420; \nconduct at meeting of General Court \non retiring from office, ib. ; vacilla- \ntion about governorship, 422 ; presides \nat disciission with Cotton, 423 ; re- \nbuked by Peters, ib. ; their subse- \nquent friendly relations, 425, note; \nnot in sympathy with Wilson, 426; \nattacks him at meeting of Jan. 1637, \n428 ; his relations with Mrs. Hutchin- \nson, 1637, 430 ; name Antinomian mis- \napplied to, 435 ; the political phase of \nAntinomian struggle between Win- \nthrop and, 436 ; at meeting of General \nCourt, March, 1637, 442-3 ; leader of \nthe Wheelwright party, 445 ; protests \nagainst the judgment in Wheelwright's \ncase, 445-6 ; record of his protest re- \nfused, 446 ; 447 ; opposes removal of \nGeneral Court to Cambridge, 449-50 ; \ncandidate for governorship, May, 1837, \n451 ; opposed by Winthrop, ib. ; at- \ntempts to prevent election, 452 ; de- \nfeated, 455 ; his halberd-bearers re- \nfuse to attend Winthrop, 461 ; General \nCourt prosecutes them, 509-10 ; elect- \ned delegate by Boston, 455 ; election \nannulled, ih. ; reelected, 456 ; attacks \nalien law, 459, note ; refuses to sit at \nchurch with magistrates, 461 ; as gov- \nernor escorted by halberdiers to \nchurch, 462 ; discourtesies to Win- \nthrop, ib. ; declines an invitation from \nhim and goes to dine with Maverick, \n331, 462 ; returns to England, August, \n1637, 404, 466 ; loss of his support se- \nrious to Wheelwright, 4G6 ; effect of \nhis departure on Cotton's position, \n469 ; 1643, of Parliamentary Commis- \nsion for Plantations, 315 ; his charac- \nter. 372 ; dulness of his writings, 373 ; \n\n\n1062 \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\nMilton's sonuet to him, ib. ; Crom- \nwell's ejaculation concerning him, ih. ; \ndescribed by Clarendon, 16. ; Win- \nthrop's first opinion of him, 374 ; \nholds to tenet of predestination, 457 ; \ncompared with Winthrop. 4Go ; of less \nimportance than Winthrop to colony, \n465-6 ; 474, 485, 567, 569, 571, 574, \n577, 593, 594. \n\nVassall, Leonard, his house at Qumcy \nbuilt, 1731, 681 ; bought by John Ad- \nams, 1787, ih. ; 833. \n\nVassall family, of Braintree Episcopal \nChurch, 632 ; 698 ; slaves owned by, \n923. \n\nVeasey, William, his argument in favor \nof Stamp Act, 842. \n\nVeasey family, favorers of Stamp Act, \n841. \n\nVeazie, Benjamin, 628. \n\nVeazie, Eleazer, disciplined by Brain- \ntree church, 1741, 762. \n\nVeazie, William, one of earliest mem- \nbers of Braintree Episcopal Church, \n1689, 621, 622 ; a Jacobite, fined for \nnot observing Thanksgiving, 1696, 625 ; \nput in pillory, 626 ; refuses to pay tax \nfor support of town minister, 1713, \nib.; gives land for Christ Church, 628. \n\nVengeur, sinking of, cited, 83. \n\nVenice Preserved, 806. • \n\nVerres, Caius, 350. \n\nVersailles, treaty of peace, United States \nand Great Britain, 1783, signed at, \n893. \n\nVestry of England, theory of derivation \nof town-meetuig from, 814, 815, 816. \n\nVines. Richard, not affected by Indian \npestilence, 3. \n\nVinton, Captain John, of Braintree, 851, \nandno/c; stationed at Squantum, 1775, \n860. \n\nVinton, Thomas, contention with Brain- \ntree over fish in Monatiquot River, \n1736, 831-4. \n\nVirginia, Dermer takes refuge in and \ndies, 1G20, 28 ; Weston's ship Cliarity \ngoes to, 1622, 59 ; 61 ; Indian massa- \ncre of 1622, 74 ; Robert Gorges' ship \nbound to, 1623, 144-5 ; 151 ; some of \nhis colonists go to, 154 ; Weston goes \nto, ib. ; 163 ; Rasdell goes to, 174 ; \nLyford removes to, and dies, 190 ; to- \nbacco used as currency in, 219 ; Mor- \nton would have been unmolested in, \n225 ; 286 ; Samuel Maverick's visits \nto, 330, 331 ; 339 ; William Tompson \nand John Knowles go as missionaries \nto, 1642, 597 ; their work there, 599 ; \ndriven away from, ib. ; grants to Lon- \ndon Companies, 651 ; John Adams' re- \nceipt for making a New England in, \n732, 764, 783. \n\nVirginia Company of London, incorpo- \nrated by royal patent, 1606, 117-8; \nopposes the 1620 charter granted to \nPlymouth Company, 124; defeated. \n\n\n125; assails Pljrmouth Company in \nHouse of Commons, 1621, 126-7. \n\nWalford, Thomas, establishes himself at \nMishawum, now Cliarlestown, 161 ; \n193, 217, 220, 233, 252 ; his career in \nNew England, 336-7 ; difficulties as an \nEpiscopalian, 336 ; fined and banished, \n1631, 337 ; pays fine by killing a wolf, \nand removes, ib. ; 340, 342. \nWanipatuck, Braintree land title, 1665, \n\n654, 655, 829. \nWar, colonial period, 827. \nWar, right of Congress to declare, ob- \njected to, at Braintree, 890. \nWar with Great Britain, 1812-14, 803, \n909-12. \n\nWard, , at synod of 1637, 470. \n\nWard, Silas, overseer of poor, Braintree, \n\n1787, 728. \nWarwick, Earl, of the Plymouth Com- \npany, 122 ; at meetings of Council for \nNew England, 131 ; his share of New \nEngland, drawn at Greenwich, 1623, \n139 ; concerned in forwarding Endi- \ncott's schemes, 210 ; an agent in ob- \ntaining Mass. Bay charter, 274 ; 275; \n! disassociated from Gorges, 283 ; 286, \nI proprietor of Coimecticut Valley, 299 ; \nI supersedes Laud as head of Commis- \n! sion for Plantations, 315. \nj Washington, George, his military expe- \ndition on the Ohio, 641 ; 710, 765 ; m- \nformed of British fleet in Boston Bay, \n866-7 ; remark on one year enlist- \nments, 873 ; recruits from Braintree \nfor his army, 876 ; 878, 879. \nWashington, D. C, J. Q. Adams' death \n\nat, 920. \nWashington Street, Boston, site of Win- \nthrop's house, 1630, 239; site of E. \nGibbons' house, 358. \nWashington temperance movement, 975. \nWaters, Henry P., Winthrop's map of \n1634, discovered at London by, 61, \nnote. \nWatertown, Mass., U. S. Arsenal at, \n233 ; 238 ; Saltonstall's property near, \n365 ; 454 ; George Phillips pastor of \nchurch of, 486. \nWatts, Isaac, his hjnnns authorized in \n\nBraintree church, 741. \nWebb, Benjamin, buys first Braintree \n\nschool-house, 774. \nWebb, Jonathan, 619. \nWeld, Joseph, given custody of Mrs. \nHutchinson, 508, 509; liberates her \nto be excommunicated, 516 ; 525. \nWeld, Rev. Thomas, his description of \nMrs. Hutchinson, 381 ; her career at \nBoston, 399 ; as to Jane Hawkins, \n400, note; public contempt of Mrs. \nHutchinson for Boston preachers, \n401 ; 423 ; said by her not to preach \nclearly the Covenant of Grace, 427 ; \nat examination of Mrs. Hutchinson, \nDec. 1636, 426-8 ; introduces Laud's \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\n1063 \n\n\npractices in General Court, 446; si- \nlenced in England, 1031, by Laud, 447 ; \n45G ; at synod of 1037, 470 ; 476 ; on \nWheelwright's amenability to the law, \n477, note ; attends trial of Mrs. \nHutchinson, 486 ; his remarks con- \ncerning her, 491 ; his evidence, 492 ; \ncause of his bitterness towards her, \n493 ; altercation with her, 496 ; called \non to take oath, 507 ; made her guar- \ndian at Roxbury, 509 ; tries to con- \nvince her of errors, 513 ; his conduct \nat trial, 514; his satisfaction in her \nmisfortunes, 535, note; purpose of his \nSliort Story, 563 ; citation from same, \n503-4. \n\nWells, Maine, Wheelwright removes to, \n1641, 539. \n\nWenape, Indian kidnapped by Hunt, 24, \nnote. \n\nWendell family, descendants of \" Doro- \nthy Q.,\" 605. \n\nWentworth, Thomas, Earl of Strafford, \n247 ; not connected with the policy of \nNew England affairs, 273 ; his charac- \nter as a statesman, ib. ; 275 ; proposed \na member for royal commission for \nNew England, 1634, 277 ; in corre- \nspondence with Laud concerning Ire- \nland, 1637, 297 ; letter to him concern- \ning tax for army, 299 ; advocates ab- \nstaining from war, ib. ; 313 ; his \nscheme of \"Thorough,\" 318-9; 570. \n\nWesley, John, separates men and women \nin meeting-houses, 733 ; free pews, ib. \n\nWessagusset, Weston's company settle \nat, 61 ; site identified, ib., note ; \nscarcity of food at, winter of 1622, 62 ; \nseverity of winter, 1622-3, 63 ; its mis- \neries, 84-5; colonists accused by In- \ndians of robber}', 64 ; their comlitiou \ngrows worse, 65 ; charged with ill- \nusage by Indians, 66 ; Indian conspir- \nacy to destroy, 1023, 73 •. revealed by \nMassasoit, ib. ; demoralization at, 76 ; \nscarcity of food, 77-8 ; mortality at, \n77 ; treatment of Indians, 78 ; the set- \ntlers punish those who steal from In- \ndians, 1623, ib. ; a thief hanged, 79 ; \nstory of the hanging in literature, 79- \n83 ; relations with the Indians, 85 ; \nStandish goes in defence of settlers, \n90 ; kills Pecksuot and Wituwamat, \n92-3, 196, 200 ; abandoned, April, 1623, \n96; stragglers remain, 104; no evi- \ndence tliat Weston's patent covered \nsite of settlement, 130, note ; occupied, \n1623, by R. Gorges' colonists, 105, 144 ; \nits disorders, cause of complaint in \nCouncil for New England against T. \nWeston, 145 ; news of troubles at, reach \nhim in Maine, 146 ; duration of Mo- \nrell's stay at, 156 ; the scene of liis \nliterary work, 157 ; fate of Gorges' \nsettlement at, 159 ; not a good trading \nstation, ib. ; or a good seaport, 100 ; \nthe settlers attempt to establish trad- \n\n\ning stations, ib. ; 163 ; Wollaston's \ncompany find there some of R. Gorges' \npeople, 1624, 105 ; Oldham and Lyiord \nexiled to, 190; population of, \"l027, \n193 ; Morton captured at, 203-4 ; 200 ; \nwithin territory granted to Endicott, \n211 ; the residence of Jeffreys, 1630, \n252 ; 285 ; story of original settlers at, \n321 et seq. ; condition of colony, 1634, \n337-12 ; described, 1033, 339 ; its name \nchanged to Weymouth, 1035, 339-40 ; \nwildness of region round about, 338, \n364, 582; means of communication \nwith Pljonouth and Boston, 1637, 581 ; \nferry communication with Mount \nWollaston, 1035, 672. See Weymouth. \n\nWest, Christopher, one of Robert Gor- \nges' Council in New England, 141. \n\nWest, Captain Francis, commissioned \nAdmiral for coast of New England, to \nprotect the fisheries, 1622, 135 ; 141 ; \nlittle known to liistory, 136 ; fails to \ncontrol the fishermen, 153 ; Squeb \nemployed by him, 232. \n\nWest Indies, Gibbous suspected of piracy \nin, 357 ; trade between New England \nand, 697 ; rum supplied to New Eng- \nland, 786. \n\nWestminster, London, 109, 110. \n\nWestminster Confession of 1643, 394, \nnote. \n\nWestminster Hall, London, scene of \nEssex trial, 112 ; 114 ; 316. \n\nWest Quincy, iron works, 696 ; labor \nagitation of 1887, 988, 990. \n\nWeston, Andrew, employed by his \nbrother Thomas, 1622, 55 ; his char- \nacter, 57 ; in charge of ship Charity, 59 ; \nreturns to England, 62 ; 79, 96, 163. \n\nWeston, Thomas, his character, 45 ; \nTreasurer of Merchant Adventurers of \nLondon, 46 ; his association with the \nPilgrims in Holland, ib. ; his influence \non their destiny, 47 ; charters the ilay- \nflower in company with Cushman, ib. ; \nhis mercenary treatment of Pilgrims, \n47-8, 55 ; abandons them, 48 ; expecta- \ntions of returns from Plymouth, 48 ; \nreproves Bradford, 49 ; Bradford's re- \nply, ib. ; demands fulfilment of agree- \nment with Pilgrims, 50 ; dissatisfaction \nwith their first shipment, ib. ; aban- \ndonment of colonists, 51 ; separates \nfrom the company of Merchant Ad- \nventurers, ib. ; 54 ; sends out the Spar- \nrow to coast of Maine, 1022, 51 ; his \ntrading scheme, 1622, 54 et seq. ; his \npatent, 130, wo^e; sources of his in- \nformation of Mass. Bay, ib. ; influenced \nby John Smith, ib. ; his expedition to \nBoston Bay, 1022, 34 ; in Sparrow sails \nfrom England, 130 ; arrival of pion- \neers of. May, 1022, 42, 43 ; arrival of \nparty in charge of liis brother Andrew, \nJune, 1022, ib. ; piloted by Squanto \nround Cape Cod, ib. ; his crew, vaga- \nbonds, 55 ; intercepts clandestiue let- \n\n\n1064 \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\nter to Bradford, 56 ; his company in \nNew England, 1G22, 51) ; their treat- \nment by PlymoutJi culonist.s, eace to \nBoston, 418 ; not in sympathy with \nminister Wilson, 426 ; at examination \nof Mrs. Hutchinson, Dec. 1636, 426- \n8 ; name Antinomian misapplied to, \n435 ; his caution respecting this term, \n435, note ; not fully in sympathy with \nMrs. Hutchinson, 436 ; effect of her \nopinion on his reputation, ih. ; con- \nsidered her representative, 437 ; con- \ntrasted with Cotton, 436 ; his fast-day \nsermon at Boston, 437 ; itc character, \n438 ; extracts from, 439-40 ; as a di- \nvine, 441, 7iote ; summoned before \nGeneral Court, March, 1637, 443 ; first \nexamination secret, 444 ; refuses to \nanswer questions, ib. ; following ex- \naminations public, ih. ; account of ex- \namination, 415-7 ; justifies his sermon, \n445 ; judged guilty of contempt and \nsedition, ib. ; sentence postponed, \n446 ; Vane appeals the case to people, \n452 ; not sustained, 455 ; 456 ; shows \ndisposition to yield, 457 ; his case in \nGeneral Court, 1637, 4.57-67 ; refused \nan appeal to the King, 458 ; 459 ; loses \nhis supporter Vane, 464 ; 466 ; desire \nto reconcile him with Wilson, 468 ; \nWilson's concessions, 469; at synod \nof 1637, 471 ; his theological views con- \nsidered, 472-4 ; not sustained, 474 ; \ndeprived of Cotton's support, ih. ; his \nfriends fail of election to new Court of \n1637, 475 ; does not submit to decision \nof Synod, ib. ; magistrates determine \nto exile him, 476 ; within the grasp of \nlaw, 477 ; case before General Court, \nNov. 1637, 479 ; his adherents among \nthe deputies expelled, ib. ; refuses to \nacknowledge error, 480 ; charged vdth \ncause of dissension, ih.; banished, 481 ; \nrefuses asylum in Rhode Island, 539 ; \nremoves to Piscataqua, 481-2 ; followed \nby his family, April, 1738, 482; hia \nresidence at Exeter, 482, 539, 581 ; 483, \n489, 492, 503 ; deluded by Mrs. Hutch- \ninson, 505 ; 508, 511, 514 ; 1641, removes \nto Wells, Maine, 539 ; 1642, his letter \nof reconciliation to Winthrop, 540 ; re- \nfuses to visit Boston, ih. ; 1644, sen- \ntence of banishment remitted, ih. ; \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\n1065 \n\n\nremoves to Hampton, N. H., 541 ; \n1650, returus to England, 542 ; stays a \nguest with Harry Vane, 543 ; renews \nrelations with Cromwell, ib. ; 1CG2, \nreturns to Boston, ib. ; installed min- \nister at Salisbury, N. H.,543; 167'J, \nhis death, ib. ; his portrait, 544 ; his \ncharacter, 544-5 ; his lasting influence \nat Mount Wollaston, 545 ; precursor of \nChanniug, 54G ; 55'2, 554, 53. \n\nWillard, Samuel, vice-president of Har- \nvard, remarks on death of John Mar- \nshall, 720-1. \n\nWillard, Samuel, minister of Deerfield, \nMass., at Daniel Quincy's wedding, \n706. \n\nWiUard, Simon, of Concord, in command \nof Mass. forces, Indian war, 16.53, 828. \n\nWillard, Solomon, Quinoy granite qnar- \nnes opened and developed by, 925-6. \n\n\nI William I. of England, his land grants, \n\nI 651 \nWUliara III. of England, Barclay and \nCharnock plot to assassinate, 1696, \n625 ; 701 ; grants charter of Province \nto Mass. Bay, 1691, 747 ; 817, 818. \nWilliam of Orange, see William III. \nWilliams, John, bounty-jumper of the \n; Revolution, 876. \nWilliams, Roger, 247 ; writes to Win- \nthrop of death of William Blackstone, \nI 325 ; Lechford's remark concerning, \n366, note ; superseded at Salem by \n, Hugh Peters, 375 ; type of the ad- \ni vanced thinkers of his time, 385. \nWilloughby, Lincolnshire, England, 369. \nWilson, Rev. John, first pastor of Bos- \nI ton Church, 370 ; his house at Salem \nshared by Isaac and Lady Arbella \n[ Johnson, 1630, 234 ; preaches at Bos- \ni ton, 239 ; goes with magistrates to \nWessagusset and Plymouth, 1632, \n338 ; his holding at Mount Wollaston, \n: 366, note., 583; opposes appointment \nI of Wheelwright as teacher, 370 ; 377 ; \nJ one of committee to reconcile Dudley \n1 aod Winthrop, 379 ; Mrs. Hutchinson \nleaves the church to avoid hearing \nj him preach, 401 ; her dislike of liim, \nj 407 ; his character, ib. ; his denimcia- \nj tions of Robinson and Stevenson, 408 ; \npersecution of Quakers, 408-10, note ; \nhis quarrel with Mrs. Hutchinson, \n411-12 ; his struggle to preserve as- \n1 cendency, ib. ; 417 ; 418 ; speaks in \n! meeting, held to consider Cotton's \nI theological views, 425 ; names of \nthose disaffected towards, 426 ; at ex- \namination of Mrs. Hutchinson, Dec. \nI 1636, 42G-8 ; his arraignment by his \nchurch, Jan. 1637, 428 , his conduct \n; at the church meeting, 429 ; rebuked \nj by Cotton, ib. ; the religious phase of \nstruggle between him and Mrs. Hutch- \nI inson, 436 ; Wheelwright's fast - day \nI sermon taken as adddessed to him, \nj 438 ; his cause espoused by General \nCourt, 442; his December, 1636, \nj speech approved by Court, 443 ; diflS- \nI culties with Mrs. Hutchinson not ad- \njusted. May, 1637, 451 ; 453 ; tries to \ncalm voters at Cambridge election, \n1637, 454 ; members of his church re- \nfuse service in Pequot war, 461 ; goes \na chaplain in campaign against Pe- \nquots, 463 ; returns from the war, \n466 ; desire to reconcile him with \nWheelwright and Cotton, 468 ; his \nconcessions, 469 ; at synod of 1637, \n470 ; his influence, 471 ; 480 ; attends \ntrial of Mrs. Hutchinson, 486 ; deter- \nmined to cause her conviction, ib. ; \nher oflFenco against him, 489, 492, \n493 ; joins in attack on her of Bos- \nton church, 518 ; denounced by her, \nib. ; sustains suggestion to admonish \nher sons, 520-1 ; humiliated by her, \n\n\n1066 \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\n524 ; 525 ; his attack after her confes \nsiou, 527, 528; 529, 53() ; prouounces \nher excouimuuication, 531 ; attends \nordination of Tompson at Braintree, \n1G40, 595. \n\nWilson, John, Jr., associate minister, \nDorcliester, 1G40, 595. \n\n\"Wilson, Captain, permitted a pew in \nBraintree meeting-house, 735. \n\nWinchester, England, Hugh Peters at \nthe capture of, 375. \n\nWinchester, Mass., 10. \n\nWiuettsemet, see Winnisimmet. \n\nWinnisimmet, the site of Chelsea, 161 ; \n192 ; Maverick's residence at, 330 ; \n356. \n\nWinslow, Edward, account of Indian \npestilence, 1621, 10 ; 20 ; joint am- \nbassador to Massasoit, 30 ; goes to \nDamariscove Islands to obtain sup- \nplies, 1622, 53 ; visits Massasoit in \nspring of 1623, 72 ; cures him of ill- \nness, 73 ; learns of Indian plot to de- \nstroy Wessagusset, ib. ; reports the \nkiUixig of Pecksuot and Wituwamat, \n93 ; carries response of Mass. Bay to \nPrivy Council as to charter, 1634, ^80 ; \ndescribed by Maverick, 281 ; examina- \ntion by Laud, and imprisonment, 1635, \n282 ; 284 ; his disposition towards \nMorton, 344 ; 345, 350. \n\nWinslow, Edward, succeeds Ebenezer \nMiller as minister of Christ Church, \nBraintree, 1764-77, 631 ; 633 ; his \ntroubles, 1774, 852-3; gives up his \ncharge, 853-4 ; death, 1780, and place \nof burial, 633. \n\nWinter in New England, 1637, 482, 483, \n485. \n\nWinthrop, John, his arrival at Salem, \n1630, 233 ; his party landed at Charles- \ntown, 1630, 234; visits Nantasket, \nJune, 1630, 233 ; finds there Captain \nSqueb, with the Mary and John, 234 ; \nhis party suffer from exposure and \npestilence, 235, 240 ; his account of \nthe first days, 236 ; his colony reduced, \nxb. ; fir.st session of magistrates at \nCharlestown, 240 ; they consider Mor- \nton's case, 241 ; banish him, 242 ; he \nfinds William Blackstone settled at \nShawmut, 161 ; his references to i \nBlackstone's records, 144, note, 155, \n327, 330 ; removes colony, by sugges- \ntion of Blackstone, from Charlestovrn \nto Boston, 238-9 ; 322 ; his relations \nwith Blackstone, ib. ; the frame of his \nhouse removed from Cambridge to \nBoston, 239 ; possessed of an English \nwarrant for arrest of Morton, 246 ; \n249 ; informed of the character of Sir \nC. Gardiner, 253 ; obtains custody of \nhim, 256 ; opens letters addressed to \nhim, 257 ; interferes in behalf of \nRatclitf, 257, 258, 261, 265, note; his \nshrewdness in treatment of Gardiner, \n258 ; his brother-in-law, Emanuel \n\n\nDowning, 266 ; as to Gorges' peti- \ntion, 1632, inquiry into the Mass. Bay \ncharter, 264, 265 ; 266, 267 ; his letter \nto Bradford concerning decision on \nMasf?. Bay charter, 1633, 267 ; Mor- \nton's antagonism to, 268 ; 269 ; in \npossession of charter, 1634, 270 ; out \nof harm's way, 279 ; informed of or- \nder for return of cliarter, 279 ; 281 ; \napprehends establishment of Church \nof England in Mass. Bay, 286 ; on \nmutilation of royal banner by Endi- \ncott, 287 ; on failure of Gorges' expe- \ndition, 1635, 289; receives commis- \nsion for provisional government in \nNew England, 1637, 301; his policy \nin respect to same, 301 ; Gorges' let- \nter of September, 1637, to, 303 ; 304; \ndelays executing orders from Lords \nCommissioners, 305 ; relieved of ap- \nprehension as to his refusal to return \ncharter, June, 1639, 307 ; good opin- \nion of Henry Gorges, 310 ; 311 ; cited \nas to Plough patent, 314, note ; 317 ; \n321, 324, 329 ; entertained by Maverick, \n330 ; a partner with him in commer- \ncial ventures, ib. ; 332 ; Maverick let- \nters cited, 333, note ; 336 ; his record \nconcerning Alderman, 338 ; goes afoot \nwith magistrates from Wessagusset to \nPlymouth, 339 ; his account of visit, \n1G32, 338-9 ; as to emigration to New \nEngland, 1634, 340, note, 343; 347, \n349, 350; watches Morton's move- \nments, 346 ; liis account of Morton's \nappearance before court of assistants, \n346 ; causes him to be fined and im- \nprisoned, 347-9 ; account of BagnaU, \n352; receives an \"aligarto\" from \nGibbons, 357 ; La Tour d'Aulnay's \nvisit to Boston, 358 ; of the English \ngentry, 304; superseded as governor \nby Dudley, 1634, 371 ; opposes Wheel- \nwright as a teacher of Boston church, \n371, 414 ; decline of his popularity, \nib. ; retirement from office of governor, \n1634, ib. ; describes Sir Harry Vane, \n374 ; his differences with Dudley, \n\n1636, 377 ; partiality of New England \nhistorians for, 378, note ; his scholar- \nship and liberal tastes, 390 ; 397 ; as \nto Mrs. Hutchinson's popularity at \nBoston, 398 ; regards Ann Hopkins as \ncrazy, 399 ; cited as to Jane Hawkins, \n400, note ; Anne Hutchinson's theo- \nlogical errors, 403, note ; sides with \nWilson in quarrel with Mrs. Hutchin- \nson, 411 ; his loss of political influence \nat Boston, ih. ; controversy with \nVane, 41S-20; his popularity revived, \n419 ; 422, 425 ; supports minister Wil- \nson, in his troubles, 428 ; his com- \nments on the attack, 428-9 ; in con- \ntroversy with Cotton, 1637, 430 ; as to \ndissensions in the Boston church, \n\n1637, 432 ; the political phase of strug- \ngle between him and Vane, 436 ; hears \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\n1067 \n\n\nWheelwright's fast -day sermon, 441, \nnote ; as to Wilson and Vane at church \nmeeting, Dec. 1G3G, 442 ; leads anti- \nWheelwright party, 445 ; candidate \nfor governor. May, 1037, 421 ; 451 ; \nopposes reading by Vane of petition \nin case of Wlieelwright, at May, 1C37, \nelection, 452 ; account of loss of life \non Charles River, 1037, 4rj3 ; supplants \nVane in presiding at election, 454 ; \nelected governor, 455 ; elected life \nmember of Council, ib. ; obscurity of \nquestions in Hutchinson controversy, \n456-7 ; in control of Wheelwiight's \ncase, 457 ; delays operation of alien \nlaw, 460 ; Boston sergeants refuse to \nescort him, 402 ; Vane declines his in- \nvitation to dinner, 331, 462 ; invitation \nto Vane and Coddiugton to resume \nseats in church with the magistrates \ndecUned, 462 ; his trying position, \n\n1637, 463 ; Vane compared with him \nin Antinoiuian controversy, 465 ; more \nimportant to the colony than Vane, \n466 ; as to the means for overcoming \nthe church schism, 476; device for \nbringing Wheelwright to law on pre- \ntext of constructive sedition, 477-8 ; \nhis regard for Coddington, 479 ; 480, \n482, 485 ; presiding officer at trial of \nAnne Hutchinson, 487, 503 ; in discus- \nsion over Mrs. Hutchinson's speech, \n504-5 ; closes trial, 507-8 ; pronounces \nher sentence of banishment, 508 ; causes \nrefractory sergeants to be prosecuted, \nNov. 1637, 509-10; 511; justification \nfor taking arms from the disaffected, \n512 ; his disposition towards Cotton at \ntrial, 514 ; conducts church proceed- \nings against Mrs. Hutchinson, 518 ; \nfinds her at fault for listening to Dav- \nenport rather than ^Hlson, 519 ; admo- \nnition of her sons, 521 ; his remark \nconcerning her confession, 524; 533; \nin danger of discipline by the church, \n533-4 ; his account of her misfortunes, \n535, note; issues warrant in March, \n\n1638, for her removal from colony, 536 ; \ncomments on Mary Dyer, 548 ; account \nof Underbill's conduct and excommu- \nnication, 533-8 ; his position in Antino- \nmian controversy discussed, 552 ; 567 ; \nconscious of unfriendly spirit of Eng- \nlish government, 560 ; 563, 504 ; ex- \nplanation of his course, 508 et seq. ; \nhis belief in anarchical tendency of \nMrs. Hutchinson's theories, ih. ; 569; \n571,572, 586, 595; account of snake \nin Cambridge meeting-house, 600 ; his \nmention of Henry Flynt, 603 ; his \ntribute to Church of England, 628 ; on \nfree schools, 1645, 766 ; 767 ; his map \nof 1634 discovered at London, 61, \nnote. \n\nWinthrop, John, Jr., letter to, concern- \n\n\ning Ratcliff, 259, note; governor of \nConnecticut, 325 ; land granted to at \nBraintree, 1044, 646 ; establishes iron- \nworks, 673. \n\nWinthrop, Robert C, on religious intol- \nerance in New England, 248, note. \n\nWinthrop, Theodore, killed at Bie Beth- \nel, Va., 1861, 962. \n\nWinthrop, Waitstill, major general of \nmilitia, Mass. Bay, 1689, 818. \n\nWiswall, Ichabod, minister of Duxbury, \n719. . •^' \n\nWituwamat, Indian, tries to induce Can- \nacum to join in attack on Wessagusset, \n1623, 69-70 ; Standish's instructions \nconcerning him, March, 1623, 76 ; his \ndetermination to kiU him, 89 ; 91 ; he \ntaunts Stand ish, 92 ; the kiUingof, ih. ; \nStandish takes his head a trophy to \nPlymouth, 97 ; places it over the \nPlymouth fort, 98 ; 200. \n\nWolfe, General James, capture of Que- \nbec, 1759, 836. \n\nWoUaston Heights, site of William \nHutchinson's property in, 536, note. \n\nWoUaston, Captain, arrives in Boston \nBay, 1624, 162 ; brings a company of \nadventurers, ih. ; ignorance concern- \ning him, ih. ; Thomas Morton, one of \nhis companions, 103 ; his name given \nto a hillock on Quincy Bay, his only \nmonument, 162; passes winter in \nNew England, 108 ; goes to Virginia, \nih. ; followed by Rasdell, 1626, 174, \n183; 190, 192, 343; Edward Gibbons \nnot of his company, 354. \n\nWonder Working Providence, by Ed- \nward Johnson, cited, 192, 646. \n\nWonderful Providences, myths of New \nEngland, 388. \n\nWood, , of Braintree, 914. \n\nWoodstock, cited, 745, note. \n\nWorcester County, Mass., Braintree \ntown commons assigned to, 659. \n\nWorkmen of New England, John Mar- \nshall type of, 716-20. \n\nWorks, Covenant of, discussed, 403-6. \n\nWright, Isaac Hull, opponent of J. Q. \nAdams, 1844, 953. \n\nWyoming, 534. \n\nYankees, lacking in military disposition, \n\n764,705. \nYarmouth, Mass., 64. \nYork, Duke of, gives Maverick a house \n\nin New York, 335. \nYork, Maine, 308; its original name \n\nAgamenticus, 311. \nYorktown, Virginia, battle, 874, 878. \n\nZachius, Hieronymus, Commentaries, \nin Christ Church library, Quincy, 804. \n\nZouch, Lord Warden of the Cinque \n, Ports, of the Plymouth Company un- \nder charter of 1620, 122. \n\n\n■ - '■■■■■'■■ ■'.>';•>■'*-„ \n\n\n>*j \n\n\n^ ; '^w \n\n\n> \n\nK. \n\n. \n\n. V \n\n.* 1 \n\n. • ':, v;^T \n\n' '/ \n\n;- \n\n'> ^ \n\n''^^%^ \n\n^ / \n\n-''^ *''v^-}v *^r \n\n^^ * '* \n\n'»» •* '* \n\n'\\ \n\n' I , \n\n• ' *>'. \"» ■ \n\n%% \n\n< \n\nV-: \n\n\n","title":"Three episodes of Massachusetts history. The settlement of Boston Bay. The Antinomian controversy. A study of church and town government;","updated_at":"2026-09-05T09:58:10.737350Z","urn":"urn:lemay:boston:document:three-episodes-of-massachusetts-history-the-settlement-of-boston-bay-the-antinomian-controversy-a-2","version":1,"withdrawn_reason":null},"urn":"urn:lemay:boston:document:three-episodes-of-massachusetts-history-the-settlement-of-boston-bay-the-antinomian-controversy-a-2","version_history":[{"change_note":"accessioned from the Internet Archive, item threeepisodesofm02adam","changed_by":"archive-ingest 0.1.0","recorded_at":"2026-09-05T09:58:11.031116Z","version":1}]}