 | Leaves from Margaret Smith's journal in the province of Massachusetts Bay, 1678-9 |  |
Mar. ye 18th.
My cough still troubling me, an ancient Woman,
coming in yesterday, did soe set forth the worth and
sent Effie over to the woman's house for a bottle of it.
The woman sat with us a pretty while, being a lively
talking bodie, although now well nigh fourscore years
of age. She could tell manie things of the old people
of Boston, for, having been in youth the wife of a Man
of some Note and Substance, and being herself a
notable Housewife, and of good natural parts, she was
well looked upon by the better sort of people. After
she became a Widow, she was for a little time in the
family of Gov. Endecutt, at Naumkeag, whom she
describeth as a just and goodlie man, but exceeding exact
in the ordering of his household, and of fiery Temper
withal. When displeasured, he would pull hard at the
long tuft of haire which he wore upon his Chin; and
on one occasion, while sitting in the Court, he plucked
off his velvet cap, and cast it in the face of one of
the Assistants, who did profess conscientious scruples
against the putting to death of the Quakers.
“I have heard say his hand was heavy upon these
people,” I said.
“And well it might be,” said the old Woman, “for
more pestilent and provoking Strollers and Ranters
you shall never find than these same Quakers. They
were such a sore trouble to the Governor, that I doe
believe his days were shortened by reason of them.
Ears, did suffice to rid him of them. At last, when a
Law was made by the General Court, banishing them
on pain of death, the Governor coming home from
Boston, said that he now hoped to have peace in the
Colonie, and that this sharpness would keep the land
free from these Troublers. I remember it well, how
the next day he did invite the Ministers and chief Men,
and in what a pleasant frame he was. In the Morning
I had mended his best velvet Breeches for him, and he
praised my work not a little, and gave me six shillings
over and above my wages; and says he to me:
`Goody Lake,' says he, `you are a worthie Woman,
and doe feel concerned for the good of Zion, and the
orderly carrying of matters in Church and State, and
hence, I know you will be glad to hear that, after
much ado, and in spite of the strivings of evil-disposed
People, the General Court have agreed upon a Law for
driving the Quakers out the jurisdiction, on pain of
death; soe that, if anie come after this, their Blood be
upon their own Heads. It is what I have wrestled
with the Lord for this manie a month, and I doe count
it a great deliverance, and special favor; yea, I may
truly say, with David: “Thou hast given me my
heart's desire, and hast not withholden the Prayer of
my lips. Thy hand shall find out all thine Enemies;
thine Anger; the Lord shall swallow them up in his
wrath, and the fire shall devour them.” You will find
these words, Goody Lake,' says he, `in the xxi Psalm,
where what is said of the King will serve for such as
be in authoritie at this time.' For you must know,
young woman, that the Governor was mighty in Scripture,
more especially in his Prayers, when you could
think that he had it all at his tongue's end.
“There was a famous dinner at the Governor's that
day, and manie guests, and the Governor had ordered
from his cellar some Wine, which was a gift from
a Portugal Captain, and of rare qualitie, as I know of
mine own tasting, when word was sent to the Governor
that a man wished to see him, whom he bid wait
awhile. After dinner was over, he went into the Hall,
and who should be there but Wharton, the Quaker,
who, without pulling off his hat, or other salutation,
cried out: `John Endecutt, Hearken to the Word
of the Lord, in whose fear and dread I am come.
Thou, and thy evil Counsellors, the Priests, have
framed iniquity by Law, but it shall not avail you.
Thus, saith the Lord, Evil shall slay the wicked, and
they that hate the righteous shall be desolate!' Now,
when the Governor did hear this, he fell, as must needs
be, into a Rage, and, seeing me by the door, he bade
and they running up, he bade them lay hands on the
Fellow, and take him away; and then in a great passion
he called for his Horse, saying he would not rest
until he had seen forty stripes save one laid upon that
cursed Quaker, and that he should go to the gallows
yet for his sauciness. Soe, they had him to the Jail,
and the next morning he was soundlie whipped, and
ordered to depart the jurisdiction.”
I, being curious to know more concerning the
Quakers, asked her if she did ever talk with any of
them who were dealt with by the authorities, and what
they said for themselves.
“Oh, they never lacked words,” said she, “but
cried out for Libertie of Conscience, and against Persecution,
and prophecied all manner of evil upon such
as did put in force the Law. Sometime about the year
'56, there did come two Women of them to Boston,
and brought with them certain of their blasphemous
Books, which the Constables burnt in the street, as I
well remember by this token, that, going near the fire,
and seeing one of the Books not yet burnt, I stooped
to pick it up, when one of the Constables gave me a
smart rap with his Staff, and snatched it away. The
Women being sent to the Jail, the Deputy Governor,
Mr. Bellingham, and the Council, thinking they might
Bellingham naming me and another Woman to her
Husband, he sent for us, and bade us go to the Jail
and search them, to see if there was any Witch-mark
on their Bodies. Soe we went, and told them our
errand, at which they marvelled not a little, and one
of them, a young, well-favored Woman, did entreat
that they might not be put to such shame, for the Jailer
stood all the time in the yard, looking in at the door;
but we told them such was the order, and soe, without
more ado, stripped them of their clothes, but found
nothing save a mole on the left breast of the younger,
into which Goodwife Page thrust her Needle, at which
the Woman did give a crie as of paine, and the blood
flowed; whereas, if it had been a Witch's mark, she
would not have felt the prick, nor would it have caused
Blood. Soe, finding nothing that did look like Witchcraft,
we left them; and on being brought before the
Court, Deputy Governor Bellingham asked us what we
had to say concerning the Women. Whereupon Good-wife
Page, being the oldest of us, told him that we did
find noe appearance of Witches upon their Bodies,
save the mole on the younger Woman's breast, (which
was but natural,) but that otherwise she was fair as
Absalom, who had no blemish from the soles of his
Feet to the crown of his Head. Thereupon the Deputy
Devil did not want them for Witches, because they
could better serve him as Quakers; whereat all the
Court fell to laughing.”
“And what did become of the Women?” I asked.
“They kept them in jail awhile,” said Nurse Lake,
“and then sent them back to England. But the others
that followed fared harder, some getting whipped at
the cart-tail, and others losing their Ears. The hangman's
wife showed me once the Ears of three of them,
which her husband cut off in the Jail that verie morning.”
“This is dreadful!” said I, for I thought of my dear
brother, and sweet Margaret Brewster, and tears filled
mine eyes.
“Nay; but they were sturdy knaves and vagabones,”
answered Nurse Lake, “although one of them
was the son of a great Officer in the Barbadoes, and
accounted a gentleman before he did run out into his
evil Practices. But cropping of ears did not stop these
headstrong people, and, they still coming, some were
put to death. There were three of them to be hanged
at one time. I doe remember it well, for it was a clear
warm day about the last of October, and it was a brave
sight to behold. There was Marshall Michelson, and
Capt. Oliver, with two hundred Souldiers afoot, besides
the Minister Mr. Wilson, looking like a Saint as he was,
with a pleasant and joyful Countenance, and a great
multitude of people, men, women and children, not
only of Boston, but from the towns round about. I got
earlie on to the ground, and when they were going to
the Gallows I kept as near to the condemned ones as I
could. There were two young well-favored Men, and
a Woman with grey hairs. As they walked hand in
hand, the Woman in the middle, the Marshall, who
was riding beside them, and who was a merry drolling
man, asked her if she wasn't ashamed to walk hand in
hand between two young Men; whereupon, looking
upon him solemnly, she said she was not ashamed, for
this was to her an Hour of great joy, and that no eye
could see, no ear hear, no tongue speak, and no heart
understand, the sweet incomes and refreshings of the
Lord's spirit, which she did then feel. This she spake
aloud, soe that all about could hear, whereat Capt.
Oliver bid the Drums to beat, and drown her voice.
Now, when they did come to the gallows ladder, on
each side of which the officers and chief people stood,
the two men kept on their Hats, as is the ill manner of
their sort, which so provoked Mr. Wilson, the Minister,
that he cried out to them: `What! shall such Jacks
as you come before authoritie with your Hats on?'
putting off our Hats that we are put to death.' The
two men then went up the ladder, and tried to speak;
but I could not catch a word, being outside of the Soldiers,
and much fretted and worried by the crowd.
They were presentlie turned off, and then the Woman
went up the ladder, and they tied her coats down to
her feet, and put the Halter on her neck, and, lacking
a handkerchief to tie over her face, the Minister lent
the Hangman his. Just then, your Uncle Rawson
comes a riding up to the gallows, waving his Hand,
and crying out, `Stop! she is reprieved!' Soe they
took her down, although she said she was ready to die
as her Brethren did, unless they would undo their
bloody laws. I heard Capt. Oliver tell her it was for
her Son's sake that she was spared. Soe they took her
to Jail, and after a time sent her back to her Husband
in Rhode Island, which was a favor she did in no wise
deserve; but good Governor Endecutt, much as he
did abhor these people, sought not their lives, and
spared no pains to get them peaceably out the Countrie;
but they were a stubborn Crew, and must needs
run their necks into the halter, as did this same Woman,
for, coming back again, under pretence of pleading
for the repeal of the laws against Quakers, she was not
long after put to death. The excellent Mr. Wilson
heard the Boys in the Street sing manie a time.
“A great number, both Men and Women, were whipped
and put in the stocks,” continued the woman, “and
I once beheld two of them, one a young, and the other
an aged Woman, in a cold day in Winter, tied to the
tayl of a Cart, going through Salem Street stripped to
their waists as naked as they were born, and their
backs all covered with red whip-marks; but there was
a more pitiful case of one Hored Gardner, a young
married woman, with a little child and her nurse, who,
coming to Weymouth, was laid hold of and sent to
Boston, where both were whipped, and, as I was often
at the Jail to see the Keeper's Wife, it soe chanced
that I was there at the time. The Woman, who was
young and delicate, when they were stripping her, held
her little Child in her arms; and when the Jailer
plucked it from her bosom, she looked round anxiouslie,
and, seeing me, said, `Good Woman, I know
thou'lt have pity on the Babe,' and asked me to hold
it, which I did. She was then whipped with a threefold
Whip, with knots in the ends, which did tear
sadlie into her flesh, and after it was over she kneeled
down, with her Back all bleeding, and prayed for them
she called her Persecutors. I must say I did greatlie
pitie her, and I spoke to the Jailer's Wife, and we
famous Ointment, soe that she soon got healed.”
Aunt Rawson now coming in, the matter was
dropped; but, on my speaking to her of it after Nurse
Lake had left, she said it was a sore tryal to manie,
even those in authoritie, and who were charged with
the putting in force of the laws against these People.
She furthermore said, that Uncle Rawson and Mr.
Broadstreet were much cried out against by the
Quakers and their abettors on both sides of the Water,
but they did but their duty in the Matter, and for herself
she had always mourned over the coming of these
People, and was glad when the Court did set anie of
them free. When the Woman was hanged, my Aunt
spent the whole day with Madam Broadstreet, who
was soe wrought upon that she was fain to take to her
Bed, refusing to be comforted, and counting it the
heaviest day of her life.
“Looking out of her chamber window,” said Aunt
Rawson, “I saw the people who had been to the Hanging
coming back from the training field; and when
Anne Broadstreet did hear the sound of their Feet in
the Road, she groaned, and said that it did seem as if
every foot fell upon her Hearte. Presentlie, Mr.
Broadstreet came home, bringing with him the Minister,
Mr. John Norton. They sat down in the Chamber,
spoken. At length, Madam Broadstreet, turning to her
Husband, and laying her hand on his arm, as was her
loving manner, asked him if it was indeed all over.
`The Woman is dead,' said he, `but I marvel, Anne,
to see you soe troubled about her. Her blood is upon
her own Head, for we did by no means seek her life.
She hath trodden under foot out Laws, and misused our
great forbearance, soe that we could do no otherwise
than we have done. Soe under the Devil's delusion
was she, that she wanted noe Minister or Elder to pray
with her at the Gallows, but seemed to think herself
sure of Heaven, heeding in no wise the warnings of
Mr. Norton, and other godly people.' `Did she rayl
at, or crie out against, anie?' asked his Wife. `Nay,
not to my hearing,' he said, `but she carried herself
as one who had done no harm, and who verilie
believed that she had obeyed the Lord's will.”'
“This is verie dreadful,” said she, “and I pray that
the death of that poor misled creature may not rest
heavy upon us.”
Hereupon Mr. Norton lifted up his Head, which had
been bowed down upon his Hand; and I shall never
forget how his pale and sharp Features did seem paler
than their wont, and his solemn Voice seemed deeper
and sadder.
“Madam!” he said, “it may well befit your gentleness
and sweetness of Heart to grieve over the
sufferings even of the froward and ungodly, when they
be cut off from the congregation of the Lord, as His
holy and just law enjoineth, for verily I also could
weep for the condemned one, as a Woman and a
Mother, and, since her coming, I have wrestled with
the Lord, in prayer and fasting, that I might be His
instrument in snatching her as a Brand from the
burning. But, as a Watchman on the walls of Zion,
when I did see her casting Poyson into the Wells of
Life, and enticing unstable souls into the snares and
pitfalls of Satan, what should I doe but sound an alarm
against her? And the Magistrate, such as your
worthie Husband, who is also appointed of God, and
set for the defence of the Truth, and the safetie of the
Church and the State, what can he doe but faithfullie
to execute the law of God, which is a terror to evil
doers? The natural pitie which we feel must give
place unto the duty we doe severally owe to God and
His Church, and the Government of His appointing.
It is a small matter to be judged of Man's judgment,
for, though certain people have not scrupled to call me
cruel and hard of Heart, yet the Lord knows I have
wept in secret places over these misguided Men and
Women.”
“But might not life be spared?” asked Madam
Broadstreet. “Death is a great thing.”
“It is appointed unto all to die,” said Mr. Norton,
“and after death cometh the Judgment. The death of
these poor Bodies is a bitter thing, but the death of the
Soul is far more dreadful; and it is better that these
People should suffer, than that hundreds of precious
Souls should be lost through their evil communication.
The care of the dear souls of my Flock lieth heavilie
upon me, as manie sleepless nights and days of fasting
doe bear witness. I have not taken counsel of flesh and
blood in this grave Matter, nor yielded unto the natural
weakness of my Heart. And while some were for
sparing these workers of Iniquity, even as Saul spared
Agag, I have been strengthened as it were to hew
them in pieces before the Lord in Gilgal. Oh, Madam,
your honored Husband can tell you what travail of
Spirit, what sore tryals, these disturbers have cost us;
and as you doe know in his case, soe believe also in
mine, that what we have done hath been urged, not by
hardness and crueltie of Heart, but rather by our love
and tenderness towards the Lord's heritage in this land.
Through care and sorrow I have grown old before my
time, few and evil have been the Days of my Pilgrimage,
and the end seems not far off; and though I have
manie sins and shortcomings to answer for, I doe
committed to me will not then be found upon my
garments.”
“Ah, me! I shall never forget these words of that
godly man,” continued my Aunt, “for, as he said, his
end was not far off. He died verie suddenlie, and the
Quakers did not scruple to say that it was God's judgment
upon him for his severe dealing with their People.
They even go soe far as to say that the Land about
Boston is cursed because of the hangings and whippings,
inasmuch as Wheat will not now grow here, as
it did formerlie, and indeed manie, not of their way,
doe believe the same thing.”
| Leaves from Margaret Smith's journal in the province of Massachusetts Bay, 1678-9 | |