 | Leaves from Margaret Smith's journal in the province of Massachusetts Bay, 1678-9 |  |
Haverhill, Nov. ye 22.
Left Newbury day before yesterday. The day cold,
but sunshiny, and not unpleasant. Mr. Saltonstall's
business calling him that way, we crossed over the
ferry to Salisbury, and, after a ride of about an hour,
got to the Falls of the Powow River, where a great
stream of water rushes violently down the rocks, into
a dark wooded Valley, and from thence runs into the
Merrimack, about a mile to the South East. A wild
sight it was, the water swollen by the Rains of the
season, foaming and dashing among the rocks and the
trees, which latter were well nigh stripped of their
leaves. Leaving this place, we went on towards
Haverhill. Just before we entered that Town, we
overtook an Indian, with a fresh Wolf's skin hanging
over his shoulder. As soon as he saw us, he tried to
hide himself in the Bushes; but Mr. Saltonstall, riding
to pay him 40 shillings for killing that Amesbury
wolf? “How you know Amesbury wolf?” asked the
Indian. “Oh!” said Mr. Saltonstall, “you can't
cheat us again, Simon. You must be honest, and tell
no more lies, or we will have you whipped for your
tricks.” The Indian thereupon looked sullen enough,
but at length he begged Mr. Saltonstall not to tell where
the Wolf was killed, as the Amesbury folks did now
refuse to pay for anie killed in their Town; and, as he
was a poor Indian, and his Squaw much sick and could
do no work, he did need the money. Mr. Saltonstall
told him he would send his Wife some Corn-meal and
Bacon, when he got home, if he would come for them,
which he promised to do.
When we had ridden off, and left him, Mr. Saltonstall
told us that this Simon was a bad Indian, who when
in drink was apt to be saucie and quarrelsome; but
that his Wife was quite a decent bodie for a savage,
having long maintained herself and children and her
lazy cross husband, by hard labor in the Cornfields and
at the Fisheries.
Haverhill lieth very pleasantlie on the river side; the
land about hilly and broken, but of good quality. Mr.
Saltonstall liveth in a statelie house for these parts, not
far from that of his father-in-law, the learned Mr. Ward.
not unused to society, their house being frequented
by many of the first people hereabout, as well as by
strangers of distinction from other parts of the country.
We had hardly got well through our Dinner, (which
was abundant and savory, being greatlie relished by
our hunger,) when two Gentlemen came riding up to
the door; and on their coming in, we found them to be
the young Doctor Clark, of Boston, a son of the old
Newbury physician, and a Doctor Benjamin Thompson,
of Roxbury, who I hear is not a little famous for
his ingenious poetry and witty pieces on manie subjects.
He was, moreover, an admirer of my Cousin Rebecca;
and on learning of her betrothal to Sir Thomas, did
write a most despairing Verse to her, comparing himself
to all manner of lonesome things, soe that when
Rebecca showed it to me, I told her I did fear the poor
young Gentleman would put an end to himself, by
reason of his great sorrow and disquiet; whereat
she laughed merrily, bidding me not fear, for she
knew the Writer too well to be troubled thereat, for he
loved nobody soe well as himself, and that under no
provocation would he need the Apostle's advice to the
Jailer, “Doe thyself no harm.” All which I found to
be true — he being a gay, witty man, full of a fine
conceit of himself, which is not so much to be marvelled
after.
The excellent Mr. Ward spent the evening with us;
a pleasant, social old man, much beloved by his people.
He told us a great deal about the earlie settlement of
the Town, and of the grievous hardships which manie
did undergo the first season, from cold, and hunger,
and sickness. He thought, however, that, with all
their ease and worldlie prosperitie, the present Generation
were less happy and contented than their fathers;
for there was now a great striving to outdo each other
in Luxury and gay Apparel, the Lord's day was not soe
well kept as formerlie, and the drinking of spirits and
frequenting of ordinaries and places of public resort
vastly increased. Mr. Saltonstall said the Warre did
not a little demoralize the people, and that since the
Soldiers came back, there had been much trouble in
Church and State. The General Court, two years ago,
had made severe Laws against the provoking evils of
the times: profaneness, Sabbath-breaking, drinking,
and revelling to excess, loose and sinful conduct on the
part of the young and unmarried, pride in dress,
attending Quakers' Meetings and neglect of attendance
upon Divine worship; but these Laws had never been
well enforced, and he feared too manie of the Magistrates
were in the condition of the Dutch Justice in the
before him, charged with robbing a hen-roost, did
request his brother on the Bench to pass sentence upon
her; for, said he, if I send her to the Whipping-post,
the wench will crie out against me as her accomplice.
Doct. Clark said his friend, Doct. Thompson, had
written a long piece on this untoward state of our
Affairs, which he hoped soon to see in print, inasmuch
as it did hold the Looking Glass to the face of this
Generation, and shame it by a comparison with that
of the Generation which has passed. Mr. Ward said
he was glad to hear of it, and hoped his ingenious
friend had brought the Manuscript with him; whereupon,
the young gentleman said he did take it along
with him, in the hope to benefit it by Mr. Ward's judgment
and learning, and with the leave of the Companie
he would read the Prologue thereof. To which we all
agreeing, he read what follows, which I copy from his
Book: —
When men fared hardlie, yet without complaint,
On vilest cates; the daintie Indian maize
Was eat with clam-shells out of wooden Trayes.
Under thatched roofs, without the crie of rent,
And the best sawce to every dish, Content.
These golden times (too fortunate to hold)
Were quicklie sinned away for love of Gold.
If one in place did an inferior meet,
`Good morrow, brother! Is there aught you want?
Take freely of me what I have, you han't.'
Plain Tom and Dick would pass as current now,
As ever since `Your servant, sir,' and bow.
Deep-skirted doublets, puritanick capes,
Which now would render men like upright Apes,
Was comelier wear, our wise old fathers thought,
Than the cast fashions from all Europe brought.
'Twas in those days an honest grace would hold
Till an hot Pudding grew at heart a cold,
And men had better stomachs for Religion,
Than now for capon, turkey-cock, or pidgeon;
When honest sisters met to praye, not prate,
About their own and not their neighbors' state,
During Plain Dealing's reign, that worthy stud
Of the ancient planter-race before the Flood.
These times were good: merchants cared not a rush
For other fare than Jonakin and Mush.
And though men fared and lodged verie hard,
Yet Innocence was better than a guard.
'Twas long before spiders and worms had drawn
Their dingy webs, or hid with cheating Lawne
New England's beauties, which still seemed to me
Illustrious in their own simplicitie.
'Twas ere the neighboring Virgin Land had broke
The hogsheads of her worse than hellish smoak;
'Twas ere the Islands sent their presents in,
Which but to use was counted next to sin;
'Twas ere a barge had made soe rich a freight
As chockolate, dust-gold, and bits of eight;
Without the which the drink will scarcelie doe.
From Western Isles, ere fruits and delicasies
Did rot maids' teeth and spoil their handsome faces,
Or ere these times did chance the noise of Warre
Was from our times and hearts removed far,
Then had the Churches rest: as yet, the coals
Were covered up in most contentious souls;
Freeness in judgment, union in affection,
Dear love, sound truth, they were our grand protection.
Then were the times in which our Councils sate,
These gave Prognosticks of our future state;
If these be longer lived, our hopes increase,
These Warres will usher in a longer peace;
But if New England's Love die in its youth,
The grave will open next for blessed Truth.
“This theame is out of date; the peaceful hours
When Castles needed not, but pleasant bowers,
Not ink, but blood and tears now serve the turn
To draw the figure of New England's urn.
New England's hour of passion is at hand,
Noe power except Divine can it withstand.
Scarce hath her glass of fifty years run oute,
Than her old prosperous Steeds turn heads aboute;
Tracking themselves back to their poor beginnings,
To fear and fare upon the fruits of sinnings.
Soe that this mirrour of the Christian world
Lies burnt to heaps in part, her Streamers furled.
Grief sighs, joys flee, and dismal fears surprise,
Not dastard spirits only, but the Wise.
Of the big-swoln expectants standing by:
So the proud Ship, after a little turn,
Sinks in the Ocean's armes to find its urne:
Thus hath the heir to manie thousands borne
Been in an instant from the mother torn;
Even thus thy infant cheek begins to pale,
And thy supporters through great losses fail.
This is the Prologue to thy future woe —
The Epilogue no mortal yet can know.”
Mr. Ward was much pleased with the verses, saying
that they would do honor to any Writer. Rebecca
thought the lines concerning the long grace at meat
happy, and said she was minded of the Wife of the
good Mr. Ames, who prided herself on her skill in
Housewifery and Cookery; and on one occasion, seeing
a nice pair of roasted Fowls growing cold under
her husband's long grace, was fain to jog his Elbow,
telling him that if he did not stop soon, she feared they
would have small occasion for thankfulness for their
spoiled dinner. Mr. Ward said he was once travelling
in companie with Mr. Phillips, of Rowley, and Mr.
Parker of Newbury, and stopping all night at a poor
house neare the Sea shore, the Woman thereof brought
into the room for their supper a great wooden Tray,
full of something nicely covered up by a clean linen
cloth. It proved to be a dish of boiled Clams, in their
thanks for aply citing passages of Scripture with regard
to whatsoever food was upon the table before him, Mr.
Parker and himself did greatlie wonder what he could
say of this Dish; but he, nothing put to it, offered
thanks that now, as formerly, the Lord's People were
enabled to partake of the abundance of the seas, and
treasures hid in the sands. “Whereat,” said Mr.
Ward, “we did find it soe hard to keep grave countenances,
that our good hostess was not a little disturbed,
thinking we were mocking her poor Fare; and we
were fain to tell her the cause of our Mirth, which was
indeed ill-timed.”
Dr. Clark spake of Mr. Ward's Father, the renowned
Minister at Ipswich, whose Book of “The Simple Cobbler
of Agawam,” was much admired. Mr. Ward
said that some of the witty turns therein did give much
offence at the time of its printing, but that his Father
could never spoil his joke for the sake of friends, albeit
he had no Malice towards any one, and was always
readie to do a good, even to his enemies. He once
even greatly angered his old and true friend, Mr.
Cotton of Boston. “It fell out in this wise,” said Mr.
Ward. “When the arch heretick and fanatick Gorton
and his crew were in prison in Boston, my Father and
Mr. Cotton went to the Jail window to see them; and
that if he had done or said anie thing which he could
with a clear conscience renounce, he would do well to
recant the same, and the Court, he doubted not, would
be merciful; adding, that it would be no disparagement
for him to do so, as the best of men were liable
to err; as, for instance, his brother Cotton here generally
did preach that one year which he publicklie
repented of before his Congregation the next year.”
Mr. Saltonstall told another story of old Mr. Ward
which made us all merrie. There was a noted Antinomian,
of Boston, who used to goe much about the
country disputing with all who would listen to him,
who, coming to Ipswich one night with another of his
sort with him, would fain have tarried with Mr. Ward,
but he told them that he had scarce Hay and Grain
enough in his Barn for the use of his own Cattel, and
that they would do well to take their horses to the
Ordinary, where they could be better cared for. But
the Fellow not wishing to be soe put off, bade him
consider what the Scripture said touching the keeping
of strangers, as some had thereby entertained Angels
unawares. “True, my friend,” said Mr. Ward, “but
we don't read that the Angels came a horseback!”
The evening passed away in a verie pleasant and
agreeable manner. We had rare Nuts, and Apples,
sweet and luscious. Our young gentlemen, moreover,
seemed to think the Wine and Ale of good quality;
for, long after we had gone to our Bedds, we could
hear them talking and laughing in the great Hall
below, notwithstanding that Mr. Ward, when he took
leave, bade Doctor Thompson take heed to his own
hint concerning the
“Wines from France and Muscovadoe too;”
warrant for his drinking, inasmuch as the command
was, to give Wine to those that be of heavy
heart. Let him drink, and forget his Poverty, and
remember his Misery no more; and, for his part, he
had been little better than miserable ever since he
heard of Rebecca's betrothal. A light, careless man,
but of good parts, and as brave a talker as I have
heard since I have been in the Colonie.
| Leaves from Margaret Smith's journal in the province of Massachusetts Bay, 1678-9 | |