II. Colonial Annalists and Historians

So, for thirty-seven years Bradford was the very soul of that heroic little Colony which built its ideals so largely into the foundations of the American nation; and it was largely his business sagacity and sterling honesty that made of their remarkable venture a more remarkable success. He died (1657), as Mather records, "lamented by all the Colonies of New England as a common blessing and father of them all."

"And the time being come that they must departe, they were accompanied with most of their bretheren out of the city unto a towne sundrie miles off called Delfes Haven, where the ship lay ready to receive them. So they left that goodly and pleasant city [Leyden] which had been their resting place near twelve years; but they knew that they were pilgrimes, and looked not much on those things, but lift up their eyes to the heavens, their dearest countrie, and quieted their spirits. . . . The next day, the wind being faire, they went aboarde, and their friends with them, where truly doleful was the sight of that sad and mournful parting; to see what sighs and sobs and prayers did sound amongst them, what tears did gush from every eye . . . that sundrie of the Dutch strangers that stood on the key as spectators could not refraine from tears. . . . But the tide, which stays for no man, calling them away that were thus loath to departe, their reverend pastor falling downe on his knees, and they all with him, with watrie cheeks commended them with most fervent prayers to the Lord and his blessing. And then, with mutual embraces and many tears, they tooke their leaves one of another; which proved to be the last leave to many of them."

Very different from this parting was their approach to the new land, with its "weatherbeaten face," and that terrible attack of savages upon Bradford and his first exploring party:

"So they made them a barricade with logs, stakes and thick pine boughs, the height of a man, leaving it open to leeward, partly to shelter them from the cold and wind (making their fire in the middle, and lying round about it) and partly to defend them from any sudden assaults of the savages, if they should surround them. So being very weary, they betooke them to rest. . . . Presently, all on the sudain, they heard a great and strange crie, and one of their company being abroad came runing in, and cried, Men! Indeans, Indeans!  and withal, their arrows came flying amongst them. . . . The crie of the Indeans was dreadful, especially when they saw [our] men run out of the randevoue towards the shalop, to recover their armes, the Indians wheeling about upon them. But some, runing out with coats of maile on, and cutlasses in their hands, soone got their armes and let flye amongst them, and quickly stopped their violence. Yet ther was a lustie man, and no less valiante, stood behind a tree within halfe a musket shot, and let his arrows flie at them. He stood three shot of a musket, till one, taking full aime at him, made the barke or splinters of the tree fly about his ears, after which he gave an extraordinary shrike, and away they wente all of them. They left some to keep the shalop, and followed them about a quarter of a mile, and shouted once or twice, and shot off two or three pieces, and so returned. This they did, that they might conceive that they were not afraid of them, or any way discouraged. . . . Afterwards they gave God solemn thanks and praise for their deliverance, and gathered up a bundle of their arrows, and sente them into England afterwards by the master of the ship, and called that place the First Encounter."

Napoleon had a profound respect for cockcrow courage; and Indians, knowing that men are panicky when suddenly roused out of sleep, commonly attack at daybreak. Perhaps we shall better understand the Pilgrim brand of courage if we consider the very significant line that the attack came "after prayer, it being day dawning."

As an antidote to those historians who tell us that we have overestimated the Pilgrim Fathers, we suggest the following paragraph from the story of the first winter, when most of the company were sore stricken with disease, and death stalked daily amongst them:

"And in the time of most distress there were but six or seven sound persons . . . who spared no pains night nor day, but with abundance of toil and hazard of their owne health fetched them woode, made them fires, drest them meat, made their beds, washed their loathsome clothes . . . in a word, did all the homely and necessarie offices for them which dainty and quesie stomachs cannot endure to hear named; and all this willingly and cheerfully without any grudging in the least, shewing herein their true love unto their friends and bretheren. A rare example and worthy to be remembered."

Still more worthy to be remembered is the fact that the Pilgrims showed kindness to their enemies also; that when disease reached the brutal sailors of the Mayflower —who remained on board and took no part in the terrible struggle of the first winter—the Pilgrims cared for them with the same tenderness; that when the Indians were stricken with smallpox they ministered unto them; and that when a ship in distress put in for help they shared their food, though they were themselves on short rations and threatened with starvation.

Doubtless, some of our present misconceptions of the Colonists arise from the fact that "Many wicked and profane persons were shipped off to the colonies by relatives who hoped thus to be rid of them." And the transportation companies, as in our own day, seeing a chance for unholy gain, gathered together all sorts of undesirable emigrants and shipped them over:

"Some begane to make a trade of it, to transport passengers and their goods, and hired ships for that end; and then, to make up their freight and advance their profits, cared not who the persons were, so they had money to pay them. And by this means this countrie became pestered with many unworthy persons, who, being come over, crept into one place or another."

Indeed, the modern reader, who thinks that our pressing problems arose yesterday, finds many surprising pages in Bradford's old history. Thus, the doctrine of free trade and "the open door" was not only promulgated but was upheld by arms on the Kennebec; and socialism had an excellent chance to put its theories into practice. For three years the Colonists lived as a socialistic community, putting the fruits of their common toil into a common storehouse; and each year they battled anew with famine. Instead of reproaching them, or using his authority as governor, Bradford aroused their ambition:

"So they begane to thinke how they might obtaine a better crope . . . and not thus languish in miserie. At length, after much debate, the governor (with the advice of the cheefest among them) gave way that they should set corne every man for his own particuler, and in that regard trust to themselves, . . . and so assigned to every family a parcel of land, according to the proportion of their number. This had very good success, for it made all hands very industrious, so as much more corne was planted, and saved the governor a great deal of trouble, and gave far better contente. The women now went willingly into the field, and took their little ones with them to set corne, which before would alledge weakness and inability; whom to have compelled would have been thought great tyranie and oppression.

"By this time harvest was come, and instead of famine, now God gave them plentie. And the face of things was changed, to the rejoysing of the hearts of many, for which they blessed God. And the effect of their particuler planting was well seen; for all had, one way and another, pretty well to bring the year about; and some of the abler and more industrious sorte had to spare and to sell to others. So as any general want or famine hath not since been amongst them to this day."

Some of the most luminous pages of Bradford are the biographical sketches, wherein his keen but kindly judgment of men is brightened by the play of a grim humor. Here, for instance, is the salt maker from England, who "knew only how to boil water in pans," but who made a great mystery and hocus-pocus out of his art, making his helpers do many unnecessary things "until they discovered his sutltie." Here are Morton and his revelers at Merrymount, placing all the settlements in danger, not simply by their evil living, but by breaking the law against selling guns and powder to the Indians. In a few terse pages Bradford makes us as well acquainted with Morton as if we had met him and his Indian squaws around the Maypole; and the last scene, in which Myles Standish "brake up the uncleane nest," and the only person injured "was so drunk that he ran his owne nose upon the point of a sword and lost a little of his hott blood," is worthy of a comedy.

There are many other little biographies of men and women, some bad, some good, and all human; but we can quote only a few sentences from the story of Brewster. Here our historian's feelings are deeply stirred by the loss of one with whom he had shared joy and grief, labor and rest, for near forty years; but he writes with the simplicity and restrained emotion of the old Greek dramatists:

"He was wise and discreete and well-spoken, having a grave and deliberate utterance; of a very cheerful spirit, very sociable and pleasante amongst his friends; of an humble and modest mind, undervallewing himself and his own abilities and some time overvallewing others; inoffensive and innocent in his life and conversation, which gained him the love of those without as well as those within. . . . He was tender hearted and compassionate of such as were in miserie, especially of such as (like himself) had been of good estate and ranke and were fallen into wante and poverty, either for goodness and religion's sake, or by the injury and oppression of others. He would say, of all men these deserved most to be pitied. And none did more offend and displease him than such as would hautily carry themselves, being risen from nothing, and having little els to commend them but a few fine clothes or a little riches more than others."

One unacquainted with the source of this exquisite biography might easily assume that he was reading a chapter from North's Plutarch . And the ending, when Brewster "drew his breath long, as a man fallen into a sound sleepe, and so sweetly departed this life unto a better," is like a wreath of immortelles which a man leaves upon the grave of a dear and honored friend.

We shall appreciate the enduring basis of that fame if we remember simply that Of Plimoth Plantation  belongs with the first works in English to which the name "history" may properly be applied. For there was very little scientific historical writing in 1620. If we examine Raleigh's famous History of the World , for instance, we find a mere jumble of story, legend and superstition, written with a view to entertain us, but without any conception of the essential difference between historical fact and fiction. In comparison with most other writers in the same field, Bradford impresses us as a real historian. He has, first of all, a profound reverence for truth, the fundamental quality of every great historian, and quotes letters, charters and other original records, that there may be no doubt of the accuracy of his narrative. He is scrupulously just, even to the enemies of the Colony; and when judgment must be uttered on men or on methods, charity is always uppermost. Moreover, if we except the dry, original documents which he quotes, he is always readable, and his style is remarkable for a noble sincerity and simplicity.

If we ask, therefore, in the modern German way of criticism, What did Bradford write that was not as well or better written before him? the answer is simply this: He was the first to write the dream and the deed, the faith and the work of a company of men and women who founded a state and laid the deep foundation of a mighty nation. The result is a priceless book, such as any people might well be proud to count among its literary treasures.

We would gladly record here the whole story of Winthrop's life, and show from abundant records how kind, how unselfish, how worthy of our profound respect was this old Puritan, the first to hold the prophetic office of President in the American Colonies; but we must be content with a mere suggestion. This is found in the Model of Christian Charity , which was written by Winthrop and adopted by the Bay Colony:

"Now the only way to avoid shipwreck and to provide for our posterity, is to follow the counsel of Micah: to do justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with our God. For this end we must be knit together in this work as one man. We must entertain for each other a brotherly affection. We must be willing to abridge ourselves of our superfluities for the supply of others' necessities. We must uphold a familiar commerce together in all meekness, gentleness, patience and liberality. We must delight in each other; make others' conditions our own; rejoice together, mourn together, labor and suffer together, always having before our eyes our commission and community in the work, as members of the same body. So shall we keep the unity of the spirit in the bond of peace."

It is from this Model , which rises at times to the stateliness and melody of a prophetic chant, and from his exquisite letters to his wife, rather than by his hurried Journal , that we are to judge Winthrop both as a man and as a writer.

Our first reading of the Journal  leaves an impression of chaos; for Winthrop never tells a connected story, but runs on from Dixy Bull the pirate to Mr. Cotton the minister, or to Sagamore John the Indian. In one breath he makes us acquainted with the depravity of wolves or windmills, in the next with necromancers and the powers of darkness. We read on successive pages:

That Winthrop's son was drowned at sea; that a goat died at Boston from eating too much Indian corn; that wild pigeons ate up the crops,—this to remind us that God ordered man to eat bread in the sweat of his brow; that a phantom ship was seen in a storm at New Haven, soon after a vessel disappeared with all on board; that a boy shot his father with a pistol, which he did not know was loaded; that a man put several bags of powder to dry before the open fire, and "some of it went up the chimney"; that a poor demented woman was hung for killing her baby, to save it from future punishment; that the Pequots came to arrange a treaty of peace and free trade; that the ministers were called to advise the magistrates whether to receive a governor sent from England; that the elders met to consider whether the devil could indwell in the elect, or some other heresy of Anne Hutchinson; that the people protested to the court against high prices and the cost of living; that the whole town was violently divided over the ownership of a stray pig, which rooted up no end of trouble; that the magistrates were obliged to discipline certain merchants who had "cornered" all the available wheat and were scandalously putting up prices. . . .

All these and a thousand other details, trifling or important, are faithfully recorded. Some of the items contain the material for an excellent history; others are more suggestive of the morning newspaper:

"The 18th of this month [Nov., 1643] two lights were seen near Boston, as before mentioned, and a week after the like was seen again. A light like the moon arose about the N. E. point and met the former at Nottles Island, and there they closed in one, and then parted, and closed and parted divers times, and so went over the hill in the island and vanished. Sometimes they shot out flames and sometimes sparkles. This was about eight o'clock in the evening, and was seen by many. About the same time a voice was heard upon the water . . . calling out in the most dreadful manner: Boy, boy, come away, come away!  And it suddenly shifted from one place to another a great distance, about twenty times. It was heard by divers godly persons."

Now Bradford would suspect will-o'-the-wisps and loons here, or would "leave the cause to the naturalists to determine"; but Winthrop, like Cotton Mather, has a slant toward the preternatural. He suggests an explanation of the affair by saying that the lights appeared and the voice spake at a place where an evil wretch, "a necromancer," had blown up a ship with all on board. The bodies of the crew were found and buried; but the wretch himself remained forever in the keeping of the restless tides.

Concerning special providences, of which Winthrop is inordinately fond, a whole chapter might be written:

How one Gillow, a mischief maker, troubled the cowherd, and by the special providence of God two of his own cows got into the corn that same night and died from over-eating. How a ship's crew refused to come on shore for Sunday service, and their ship blew up the next day. How two little girls were plucking wild pigeons under a great heap of logs, and the feathers flew into the house until their mother sent them to another place; and immediately the logs fell down and would have crushed them like eggshells had they been there. How a man worked an hour on Sunday to finish his job, and his child was drowned that night in a well in the cellar. How a man in charge of a saluting cannon boasted, as he rammed home an immense charge, that he would "make her speak up," and the gun exploded, of course; but, though many people stood about, only the fool was killed. How a woman's heart was set on a fine piece of linen, which she kept in a drawer; and a bit of candlewick fell upon it, unnoticed; and in the morning the linen was wholly burned, like a piece of punk, nothing else in the house being injured; and the woman confessed in meeting that it was the judgment of the Lord, since she had been too fond of her fine linen. . . .

Here, to change the subject, is a story confirmed by other records, which we recommend to the psychologists:

"At Kennebeck the Indians, wanting food, and there being a store in the Plimoth trading house, they conspired to kill the English there for their provisions; and some Indians coming into the house, Mr. Willet, the master, being reading in the Bible, his countenance was more solemn than at other times, so as he did not look cheerfully upon them, as he was wont to do; whereupon they went out and told their fellows that their purpose was discovered. They asked them how it could be. The others told them that they knew it by Mr. Willet's countenance, and that he had discovered it by a book that he was reading. Whereupon they gave over their design."

Those who remember the high regard in which Puritan mothers were held will read with surprise this record of a woman with literary aspirations:

"Mr. Hopkins, the governor of Hartford on Connecticut, came to Boston and brought his wife with him (a godly young woman, and of special parts) who was fallen into a sad infirmity, the loss of her understanding and reason, which had been growing upon her divers years by occasion of her giving herself wholly to reading and writing, and had written many books. Her husband, being very loving and tender of her, was loath to grieve her; but he saw his error when it was too late. For if she had attended to her household affairs, and such things as belong to women, and not gone out of her way and calling to meddle in such things as are proper for men, whose minds are stronger, etc., she had kept her wits, and might have improved them usefully and honorably in the place God had set her. He brought her to Boston . . . to try what means might be had here for her. But no help could be had."

Of Winthrop's "modest little speech," as he calls it, we can give only a few sentences to show its prevailing spirit. But it should be read entire by every American, since it is the first expression of the fundamental principles of our government:

". . . For the other point concerning liberty, I observe a great mistake in the country about that. There is a twofold liberty, natural, and civil or federal. The first is common to man with beasts and other creatures. By this, man, as he stands in relation to man simply, hath liberty to do what he lists; it is a liberty to evil as well as to good. This liberty is incompatible and inconsistent with authority, and cannot endure the least restraint of the most just authority. . . . The other kind of liberty I call civil or federal; it may also be termed moral, in reference to the covenant between God and man in the moral law, and the politic covenants and constitutions amongst men themselves. This liberty is the proper end and object of authority, and cannot subsist without it; and it is a liberty to that only which is good, just, and honest. This liberty you are to stand for, with the hazard, not only of your goods, but of your lives, if need be. . . . Even so, brethren, it will be between you and your magistrates. If you stand for your natural corrupt liberties, and will do what is good in your own eyes, you will not endure the least weight of authority, but will murmur and oppose and be always striving to shake off that yoke; but if you will be satisfied to enjoy civil and lawful liberties, such as Christ allows you, then will you quietly and cheerfully submit unto that authority which is set over you, in all the administrations of it, for your good. . . . So shall your liberties be preserved, in upholding the honor and power of authority amongst you."

Historians also have used it; and to their profound misunderstanding of the work we owe many of our misconceptions of the early settlers, whose lives are reflected here, brokenly, imperfectly, like shadows in a troubled pool. For, in a word, there is too much journalism in this old Journal ; and journalism, by recording largely the abnormal or unusual, might give some future reader an entirely wrong impression of our present life. So in reading Winthrop—who has something of the modern reporter's instinct for the sensational—it is well to remember that, though he is interesting as a newspaper, he is often misleading, and presents on the whole a very inadequate picture of the life and ideals of the Puritan commonwealth.

(Nov. 26, 1624 )

My sweet Wife,—I blesse the Lorde for his continued blessings upon thee and our familye; and I thank thee for thy kinde lettres. But I knowe not what to saye for myself. I should mende and prove a better husband, havinge the helpe and example of so good a wife; but I growe still worse. I was wonte heretofore, when I was longe absent, to make some supplye with volumes of lettres; but now I can scarce afforde thee a few lines. Well, there is no helpe but by enlarging thy patience, and strengtheninge thy good opinion of him who loves thee as his owne soul and should count it his greatest affliction to live without thee. . . . The Lorde blesse and keepe thee, and all ours, and sende us a joyful meetinge. So I kisse my sweet wife and rest

Thy faithful husband

Jo. WINTHROP

(1627 )

My most sweet Husband ,—How dearely welcome thy kinde letter was to me I am not able to expresse. The sweetnesse of it did much refresh me. What can be more pleasinge to a wife than to heare of the welfayre of her best beloved, and how he is pleased with her poore endeavors. I blush to hear my selfe commended, knowinge my owne wants; but it is your love that conceives the best and makes all thinges seem better than they are. I wish that I may be allwayes pleasinge to thee, and that those comforts we have in each other may be dayly increased, as far as they be pleasing to God. I confess I cannot doe ynough for thee, but thou art pleased to accept the will for the deede, and rest contented.

I have many reasons to make me love thee, whereof I will name two: first because thou lovest God, and secondly because that thou lovest me. If these two were wantinge, all the rest would be eclipsed. But I must leave this discourse and goe about my household affayers. I am a bad huswife to be so long from them; but I must needs borrowe a little time to talke with thee, my sweet heart. It will be but two or three weekes before I see thee, though they be longe ones. God will bring us together in his good time, for which time I shall pray. Farewell my good Husband; the Lord keep thee.

Your obedient wife

MARGARET WINTHROPE

(On Shipboard, 1630 )

My faithful and dear Wife ,—It pleaseth God that thou shouldst once again hear from me before our departure, and I hope this shall come safe to thy hands. I know it will be a great refreshing to thee. And blessed be his mercy, that I can write thee so good news, that we are all in very good health. Our boys are well and cheerful and have no mind of home. They lie both with me, and sleep as soundly in a rug as ever they did at Groton. We have spent now two Sabbaths on shipboard very comfortably, and are daily more encouraged to look for the Lord's presence to go along with us.

And now, my sweet soul, I must once again take my last farewell of thee in Old England. It goeth very near to my heart to leave thee; but I know to whom I have committed thee, even to him who loves thee much better than any husband can, who hath taken account of the hairs of thy head, and put all thy tears in his bottle, who can and, if it be for his glory, will bring us together again with peace and comfort. Oh, how it refresheth my heart to think that I shall yet again see thy sweet face in the land of the living,—that lovely countenance that I have so much delighted in and beheld with so great content! I have hitherto been so taken up with business as I could seldom look back to my former happiness; but now, when I shall be at some leisure, I shall not avoid the remembrance of thee, nor the grief for thy absence. Thou hast thy share with me; but I hope the course we have agreed upon will be some ease to us both. Mondays and Fridays, at five of the clock at night, we shall meet in spirit till we meet in person. Yet if all these hopes should fail, blessed be our God that we are assured we shall meet one day, in a better condition. Let that stay and comfort thy heart. Neither can the sea drown thy husband, nor enemies destroy, nor any adversity deprive thee of thy husband or children. Therefore I will only take thee now and my sweet children in my arms, and kiss and embrace you all, and so leave you with my God. Farewell, farewell.

Thine wheresoever

Jo. WINTHROP

In literature Sewall is chiefly famous for his Diary ; but he wrote several other things, among them being "The Selling of Joseph," which was probably the first antislavery tract published in this country. Reading even these minor works, we see clearly that the author was a philanthropist, a friend of negroes and Indians, a pioneer in the work of establishing women's rights, and a just man in all his ways:

To summarize such a detailed story of over half a century is quite impossible. The book is like an old attic, filled with all manner of useless things, forgotten and dust-covered. Here, as in Winthrop, the small and the great affairs of life are jumbled in hopeless confusion. In one breath we are told that the weather is foggy; in the next that war is declared between France and England—one of the fateful French and Indian wars which kindled in America the spirit of national unity. Of this, however, Sewall says nothing, but flits on to his favorite subject of funerals, and ends with a mention of what they did with the treasure of Captain Kidd the pirate. Merely as a suggestion of his style and varied matter, we copy a few entries that attract our attention as do certain faces in a crowd:

1676, Oct. 9 . Bro. Stephen visits me in the evening and tells me of a sad accident at Salem, last Friday. A youth, when fowling, saw one by a pond with black hair and was thereat frighted, supposing the person to be an Indian, and so shot and killed him: came home flying with the fright for fear of more Indians. The next day found to be an Englishman shot dead. The actor in prison.

1677, July 8 . New Meeting House. In sermon time there came in a female Quaker, in a canvas frock, her hair disshevelled and loose like a periwigg, her face black as ink, led by two other Quakers, and two others followed. It occasioned the most amazing uproar that I ever saw.

1685, Nov. 12 . Mr. Moody preaches, from Is. 57: 1, Mr. Cobbet's funeral sermon. After, the minister of this town come to the Court to complain against a dancing master who seeks to set up here, and hath mixt dances, and his time of meeting is Lecture Day [Thursday] and 't is reported he should say that by one play he could teach more divinity than Mr. Willard or the Old Testament. Mr. Moody said 't was not a time for New England to dance. Mr. Mather struck at the root, speaking against mixt dances.

1686, Feb. 15 . Jos. Maylem carries a cock at his back, with a bell in 's hand, in the main street. Several follow him blindfolded and, under pretence of striking him or 's rooster with great cart whips, strike passengers and make great disturbance.

Apr. 22 . Two persons, one array'd in white, the other in red, goe through the town with naked swords advanced, with a drum attending each of them, and a quarter staff, and a great rout following, as is usual. It seems 't is a challenge to be fought at Capt. Wing's next Thursday. Apr. 28 . After the stage-fight, in the even, the souldier who wounded his antagonist went, accompanyed with a drumm and about seven drawn swords, shouting through the streets in a kind of tryumph.

June 6 . Ebenezer Holloway, a youth of about eleven or twelve years old, going to help Jno. Hounsel, another Boston boy, out of the water at Roxbury, was drowned together with him. I followed them to the grave; for were brought to town in the night, and both carried to the burying place together, and laid near one another.

1692, Apr. 11 . Went to Salem, where, in the meeting-house, the persons accused of witchcraft were examined. Was a very great assembly. 'T was awfull to see how the afflicted persons were agitated. Mr. Noyes pray'd at the beginning, and Mr. Higginson concluded. Aug. 19 . (Dolefull Witchcraft!) This day George Burroughs, John Willard, Jno. Proctor, Martha Carrier and George Jacobs were executed at Salem, a very great number of spectators being present. Mr. Cotton Mather was there, Mr. Sims, etc. All of them said they were innocent, Carrier and all. Mr. Mather says they all died by a righteous sentence. Mr. Burroughs by his speech, prayer, protestation of his innocence, did much move unthinking persons, which occasions their speaking hardly concerning his being executed.

Nov. 6 . Joseph threw a knop of brass and hit his sister Betty on the forhead, so as to make it bleed and swell; upon which, and for his playing at prayer time, and eating when return-thanks, I whiped him pretty smartly. When I first went in (called by his Grandmother) he sought to shadow and hide himself from me behind the head of the cradle; which gave me the sorrowful remembrance of Adam's carriage.

1699, June 21 . A pack of cards are found strawed over my foreyard, which, 't is supposed, some might throw there to mock me.

1702, Feb. 19 . Mr. I. Mather preached from Rev. 22: 16,—"Night and morning star." Mention'd sign in the heaven, and in the evening following I saw a large cometical blaze, something fine and dim, pointing from the westward, a little below Orion.

1704, June 30 . After dinner, about 3 P. M. I went to see the execution [of pirates]. Many were the people that saw on Broughton's Hill. But when I came to see how the river was cover'd with people, I was amazed. 150 boats and canoes, saith Cousin Moody of York. He told [counted] them. Mr. Cotton Mather came, with Capt. Quelch and six others for execution, from the prison. When the scaffold was hoisted to a due height the seven malefactors went up. Mr. Mather prayed for them, standing on the boat. When the scaffold was let to sink, there was such a screech of the women that my wife heard it, sitting in the entry next the orchard, and was much surprised at it; yet the wind was sou-west. Our house is a full mile from the place.

1706, Nov. 10 . This morning Tom Child the painter died.

1713, Apr. 19 . The swallows have come; I saw three together.

1716, Feb. 6 . Sloop run away with by a whale, out of a good harbor at the Cape. How surprisingly uncertain our enjoyments in this world are!

1720, Jan. 23 . This day a negro chimney-sweeper falls down dead into the Governour's house. Jury sits on him.

May 20 . In the evening I join the Revd. Mr. William Cooper and Mrs. Judith Sewall in marriage. I said to Mr. Stoddard and his wife [parents of the bride] "Sir, Madam, the great honour you have conferr'd on the bridegroom and the bride by being present at this solemnity does very conveniently supersede any further enquiry after your consent. And the part I am desired to take in this wedding renders the way of my giving my consent very compendious: There's no manner of room left for that previous question, Who giveth this woman to be married to this man?

"Dear child, you give me your hand for one moment, and the bridegroom forever. Spouse, you accept and receive this woman now given you, &c." Mr. Sewall pray'd before the wedding, and Mr. Coleman after. Sung the 115th Psalm from the ninth verse to the end. Then we had our cake and sack-posset.

The three bulky volumes of this old Diary are not books which we would recommend to the general reader. They have absolutely no literary charm; they are mostly dull records of commonplace events, made gloomy by many funerals but never once brightened by the play of imagination or humor. Yet somehow we have grown deeply interested in them, following their endless windings as one follows a trout stream, with continual expectation of catching something in the next pool. Nor are we disappointed. Here and there, amidst dreary details, are fleeting glimpses of the little comedies of long ago, when fashions were different but human nature quite the same as in our own day. Whether the record gives pleasure or weariness to others depends, like fishing, entirely upon the taste of the individual.

Aside from the question of interest, Sewall's Diary  has a twofold value: it gives realistic pictures of habits, beliefs, political and social customs in one corner of America at an early period of our history; and it is one of the most intimate and detailed records of a human life that we possess. It shows the author, not as the world knew him, but as he knew himself. Whoever has the patience to read this old record will meet a man who reveals himself without vanity or concealment, who follows the call of duty as he hears it, and who makes no attempt to win even our good opinion. As he says (May 9, 1690): "Now the good God, of His infinite grace, help me to perform my vows, give me a filial fear of Himself and save me from the fear of man."

Almost on the first page we are struck by this personal contrast between Byrd and the Puritan writers. The latter were men profoundly educated along certain lines, and their experience of life was deep but narrow. Outside the three immediate interests of religion, trade and government, they had little regard for the ways of the great world. Byrd's education was broad but shallow; and to education he added the unmistakable polish of travel and of habitual contact with the best society. In consequence he has a certain air of cosmopolitanism, suitable to any civilized age or nation, and far removed from the provincialism and intense individuality of the Puritans.

Another contrast between Byrd and other annalists is found in the essential motive of his books. Most of our Colonial authors cared nothing for literary effect; their only object was to present the facts and to establish the truth. With Byrd, however, enters a new element into our literature. He has that indefinite but vitalizing quality which we call style; he seeks to make the form of his work attractive, and so becomes definitely artistic. Remembering that few will read a book unless it have the virtue of being interesting, he inserts a variety of observations and experiences with the sole idea of entertaining us. So far so good; but unfortunately Byrd has so little of the Puritan regard for truth that he is willing to sacrifice it cheerfully for a jest, even in his historical narrative. He writes very much like certain Cavaliers of Charles II in England. He is gay, witty, charming; his mockery is invariably good-natured; his stories, though sometimes a little scandalous, are told as a gentleman of those days would tell them; but he is superficial, and often gives a wrong impression of the people he is describing. In one of his narratives he remarks, "Our conversation with the ladies was like whip-sillabub, very pretty but had nothing in it." It is hardly too much to say that Byrd has written here an excellent criticism of his own writings. Certainly, after Bradford and Winthrop, he furnishes a pleasant, whip-sillabub kind of dessert to a somewhat heavy dinner.

After such an introduction, we are skeptical of Byrd's fitness as a historian; but we are delighted with him as a writer and camp companion in following the adventures of the surveying party. Scattered through the book, like plums in a pudding, are interesting bits of natural history, and passing comments, scintillating and evanescent as the sparks of his camp fire, on the appearance of the wild country and the habits of the Indians:

"1729, Oct. 11 . But bears are fondest of chestnuts, which grow plentifully towards the mountains, upon very large trees, where the soil happens to be rich. We were curious to know how it happen'd that many of the outward branches of those trees came to be brok off in that solitary place, and were inform'd that the bears are so discreet as not to trust their unwieldy bodies on the smaller limbs of the tree, that would not bear their weight; but after venturing as far as is safe, which they can judge to an inch, they bite off the end of the branch, which falling down, they are content to finish their repast upon the ground. In the same cautious manner they secure the acorns that grow on the weaker limbs of the oak. And it must be allow'd that, in these instances, a bear carries instinct a great way, and acts more reasonably than many of his betters, who indiscreetly venture upon frail projects that wont bear them."

"1729, Oct. 13 . In the evening we examin'd our friend Bearskin [the Indian hunter] concerning the religion of his country, and he explain'd it to us, without any of that reserve to which his nation is subject.

"He told us he believ'd there was one Supreme God, who had several subaltern deities under him. And that this Master-God made the world a long time ago. That he told the sun, the moon and stars their business in the beginning, which they, with good looking after, have perform'd faithfully ever since. . . .

"He believ'd God had form'd many worlds before he form'd this; but that those worlds either grew old and ruinous, or were destroyed for the dishonesty of the inhabitants.

"That God is very just and very good, ever well pleas'd with those men who possess those God-like qualities. That he takes good people into his safe protection. . . . But all such as tell lies, and cheat those they have dealings with, he never fails to punish with sickness, poverty and hunger; and, after all that, suffers them to be knockt on the head and scalpt by those that fight against them.

"He believ'd that after death both good and bad people are conducted by a strong guard into a great road, in which departed souls travel together for some time, till at a certain distance this road forks into two paths, the one extremely levil, and the other stony and mountainous. Here the good are parted from the bad by a flash of lightning, the first being hurry'd away to the right, the other to the left.

"The right-hand road leads to a charming warm country, where the spring is everlasting, and every month is May; and as the year is always in its youth, so are the people; and particularly the women are bright as stars, and never scold. That in this happy climate there are deer, turkeys, elks, and buffaloes innumerable, perpetually fat and gentle, while the trees are loaded with delicious fruit quite throughout the four seasons. That the soil brings forth corn spontaneously, without the curse of labour, and so very wholesome that none who have the happiness to eat of it are ever sick, grow old, or dy.

"Near the entrance into this blessed land sits a venerable old man on a mat richly woven, who examins strictly all that are brought before him; and if they have behav'd well, the guards are order'd to open the crystal gate, and let them enter into the Land of Delights.

"This was the substance of Bearskin's religion, and was as much to the purpose as cou'd be expected from a mere state of nature, without one glimps of revelation or philosophy. It contain'd, however, the three great articles of natural religion: the belief of a god; the moral distinction betwixt good and evil; and the expectation of rewards and punishments in another world."

Two other works of Byrd are worthy of our attention. A Journey to the Land of Eden  is an interesting journal of wilderness travel and mild adventure, very similar to The Dividing Line . A Progress to the Mines  is extremely valuable for its pictures of Southern society, and especially of Colonel Spotswood, that strong fighter for American democracy, who is here seen in his home, his sternness all laid aside, as an armor that a man uses only when he goes out to battle with the world:

"Here I arriv'd about three o'clock, and found only Mrs. Spotswood at home, who receiv'd her old acquaintance with many a gracious smile. I was carry'd into a room elegantly set off with pier glasses, the largest of which came soon after to an odd misfortune. Amongst other favourite animals that cheer'd this lady's solitude, a brace of tame deer ran familiarly about the house, and one of them came to stare at me as a stranger. But unluckily spying his own figure in the glass, he made a spring over the tea table that stood under it, and shatter'd the glass to pieces, and falling back upon the tea table, made a terrible fracas among the china. This exploit was so sudden, and accompany'd with such a noise, that it surpriz'd me, and perfectly frighten'd Mrs. Spotswood. But 't was worth all the damage to shew the moderation and good humor with which she bore this disaster. In the evening the noble Colo. came home from his mines, who saluted me very civilly; and Mrs. Spotswood's sister, Miss Theky, who had been to meet him en Cavalier , was so kind too as to bid me welcome. We talkt over a legend of old storys, supp'd about 9, and then prated with the ladys, til 't was time for a travellour to retire. . . .

"Sept. 22 . We had another wet day, to try both Mrs. Fleming's patience and my good breeding. The N. E. wind commonly sticks by us 3 or 4 days, filling the atmosphere with damps, injurious both to man and beast. . . . Since I was like to have thus much leisure, I endeavour'd to find out what subject a dull marry'd man cou'd introduce that might best bring the widow to the use of her tongue. At length I discover'd she was a notable quack, and therefore paid that regard to her knowledge as to put some questions to her about the bad distemper that raged then in the country. . . . But for fear this conversation might be too grave for a widow, I turn'd the discourse, and began to talk of plays, and finding her taste lay most towards comedy, I offer'd my service to read one to her, which she kindly accepted. She produced the 2d part of the Beggar's OperaT , which had diverted the town [London] for 40 nights successively, and gain'd four thousand pounds to the author. This was not owing altogether to the wit or humour that sparkled in it, but to some political reflections, that seem'd to hit the ministry. . . . After having acquainted my company with the history of the play, I read 3 acts of it, and left Mrs. Fleming and Mr. Randolph to finish it, who read as well as most actors do at a rehearsal. Thus we kill'd the time, and triumpht over the bad weather."

Again, Byrd is an admirable supplement to the early annalists with whom we have grown familiar. The literature of any period must reflect the whole life of a people; and Byrd reveals a side of Colonial life, a bright and most attractive side, which is seldom chronicled in our histories. And finally, Byrd is neither teacher nor reformer, as most other Colonial writers are, but simply an observer. Life of every kind seems good to him, as if indeed God had just created it. He delights to describe it just as it is, and to give happy pictures of settlers and Indians without wishing to reform either. His Dividing Line , especially, with its breezy, outdoor atmosphere, its lively interest in wild life, its rovings by day and its camp fires under the stars by night, marks an excellent beginning of that fascinating series of Journals of Exploration, of which Parkman's Oregon Trail  is perhaps the best-known example.

Alexander Whittaker, called by Cotton Mather "our incomparable Whittaker," and known generally as the "Apostle to Virginia," wrote a noble appeal to England in his Good News from Virginia  (1613). This book is worth reading if only to show that the Puritans of the South were in all essentials exactly like their northern compatriots.

Edward Winslow was the companion of Bradford on the Mayflower . His Journal , written in connection with Bradford, and long known as Mourt's Relation , and his Good News from New England  (1624) give vigorous and interesting accounts of the Pilgrims during the first three years of their American history. These books should, if possible, be read in connection with Bradford's Of Plimouth Plantation .

William Wood, one of the most interesting of our early writers, wrote New England's Prospect  (1634). The book is in two parts, one describing the natural features of the country, its woods and waters, its plant and animal life; the other describing the life and customs of the various Indian tribes. It is remarkably well written, contains many vivid, picturesque descriptions, and its general style suggests that of the Elizabethan prose writers.

Edward Johnson came to America with Winthrop and his Puritans, in 1630. He was a fine type of the early settler—brave, self-reliant, religious; a little bigoted, to be sure, yet level-headed enough to oppose the witchcraft delusion. The title of his poem, The Wonder-working Providence of Zion's Saviour in New England  (1654), suggests the character of its contents. It is a kind of modern Book of Exodus , in which the Colonists are pictured as under the direct leadership of the Lord of Hosts, fighting the Lord's battles against seen and unseen foes. And the work does not suffer in interest from the fact that Johnson was himself a vigorous fighter, and that the ax and musket were more familiar to his hand than the goose quill.

The Burwell Papers  (c . 1700), by some unknown writer, are interesting for their first-hand descriptions of that dramatic episode of Virginia's history known as Bacon's Rebellion (1647). Another noteworthy feature is the style of the unknown writer, which is in marked contrast to the vigor and sincerity of early Colonial authors. He abounds in mannerisms, and attempts to be witty even in scenes which call for reverence and simplicity. This artificial style indicates that the French influence, which prevailed in England after the restoration of Charles II, was introduced from England to America at the close of the seventeenth century. These Burwell Papers  include a dirge on the death of Bacon, which seems to us one of the best bits of verse written in the entire Colonial period.

The author's purpose is evident in his subtitle, which tells us that England and America are a pair of old shoes, sadly in need of repair, and that he proposes to mend them to the best of his ability. His idea of mending is, evidently, to knock everything to pieces; so he proceeds merrily to pound away at the women for their style of dress, at religious leaders for their toleration, and at everything else which savors of a change from the good old ways of the forefathers—all this, remember, only twenty-seven years after the landing of the Pilgrims. The work begins vigorously, "Either I am in an apoplexy, or that man is in a lethargy who doth not now sensibly feel God shaking the heavens over his head and the earth under his feet." Nor does the primal vigor wane even for an instant. Every blow is that of a hammer; every criticism has the pungency of red pepper. This Simple Cobbler  was the most popular of all our earliest books; and it still affords the reader plenty of amusement, though of an entirely different kind from what the writer intended.

George Alsop is remembered for one book, of mingled seriousness and drollery, called A Character of the Province of Maryland  (1666), which is worthy to be placed with Ward's Simple Cobbler . It is written partly in racy prose, partly in doggerel verse after the manner of Butler's Hudibras , which had just appeared in England and was immensely popular. Though probably written with a serious purpose of defending Maryland from certain evil reports which had been sent abroad, the book is chiefly noticeable for its fun and nonsense. The chief criticism against the latter is that the humor is often a little too broad for modern readers.

This honor is usually given to Gibbon, but the latter's Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire  appeared some forty years after Prince had published his Chronological History of New England  (1736). Omitting the huge introduction, which, after the fashion of those days, attempts to give a summary of the world's history from Adam to James I, Prince's History  is an extremely careful and scholarly work, but unfortunately a little dry. The work is a fragment, only one volume having been finished, which carries the history of the Colonies down to 1630.

Robert Beverly was the first native-born historian of the Old Dominion. His History of Virginia  (1705) gives us not only a political history of the Colony, but also a first-hand description of the people, of the natural features of the country, of its plant and animal life and of the ways of the Indians. Beverly was a man of fine character, a gentleman by birth and breeding, and all unconsciously he reflects much of his own fine qualities in his writings. There is a very pleasing manliness and simplicity in his work, which is one of the most interesting of Colonial histories.

Other writers on Indian subjects are John Mason, a soldier and Indian fighter, who wrote A Brief History of the Pequot War  (1677); Mary Rowlandson, who was dragged from her burning home and carried off captive by the Indians, and who relates her experiences in The Sovereignty and Goodness of God, a Narrative of the Captivity and Restoration of Mrs. Rowlandson  (1682 ); and John Williams, who was carried to Canada by the savages when Deerfield was attacked and burned, in 1704, and who gives a vivid story of Indian atrocities in The Redeemed Captive  (1707).

Many other such books were written, but the four mentioned enable the reader to see the Indian from many different points of view. Gookin was the friend of the natives, and is the only one of our early writers who understands the Indian character. Mason was a fighter, and delighted to write of battle, murder and sudden death; while Williams and Mrs. Rowlandson were innocent sufferers at the hands of the savages, who treated their captives with alternate ferocity and indifference. The stories of the latter writers were immensely popular for over a century in America, while the better work of Gookin remained unknown. It is due largely to fighting stories like Mason's, and to pictures of savage atrocity as drawn in The Redeemed Captive , that hatred of the Indians was deeply ingrained into the popular mind. Even at the present day it is difficult to make the average American understand that the Indians were often actuated by noble motives and possessed some admirable native virtues.