The Protestant Reformation was eminently suited to the spirit of the English people, although forced upon them in the first instance by the absolute power of a capricious king, and unaccompanied by any acknowledgment of those rights of toleration and individual judgment upon which its strength seemed mainly to depend. The monarch, when constituted the head of the Church, exacted the same spiritual obedience from his subjects as they had formerly rendered to the Pope of Rome. Queen Elizabeth adopted her father's principles: she favored the power of the hierarchy, and the pomp and ceremony of external religious observances. But the English people, shocked by the horrors of Mary's reign, and terrified by the papal persecutions on the Continent, were generally inclined to favor the extremes of Calvinistic simplicity, as a supposed security against another reaction to the Romish faith. The stern and despotic queen, encouraged by the counsels of Archbishop Whitgift, assumed the groundless right of putting down the opinions of the Puritans by force. [1583.] Various severities were exercised against those who held the obnoxious doctrines; but, despite the storm of persecution, the spirit of religious independence spread rapidly among the sturdy people of England. At length a statute was passed of a nature now almost incredible—secession from the Church was punishable by banishment, and by death in case of refusal on return. The Puritans were thus driven to extremity. Much of the history of nations may be traced through the foundation and progress of their colonies. Each particular era has shown, in the settlements of the time, types of the several mother countries, examples of their systems, and the results of their exigencies. At one time this type is of an adventurous, at another of a religious character; now formed by political, again by social influences. The depth and durability of this impress may be measured by the strength of the first motives, and the genius of the people from whom the emigration flows. The peculiar nature of the first New England emigration was the result of those strong tendencies of the British people soon afterward strengthened into a determination sufficiently powerful to sacrifice the monarch and subvert the Church and State. The Brownists, or, as they are more happily called, the Pilgrim fathers, set sail on the 12th of July, 1620, in two small vessels. There were in all 120 souls, with a moderate supply of provisions and goods. On the 9th of November they reached Cape Cod, after a rough voyage; they had been obliged to send one of their ships back to England. From ignorance of the coast and from the lateness of the season, they could not find any very advantageous place of settlement; they finally fixed upon New Plymouth, King James was not satisfied with the slow progress of American colonization. [1620.] In the same year that the Pilgrim fathers landed at Plymouth, he formed a new company under the title of the Grand Council of Plymouth, The first winter brought to these colonists the usual privation, suffering, and death, but a now rapidly-increasing emigration more than filled up the places of all casualties. From this period, many men of respectability and talent, Notwithstanding these unjust and mischievous prohibitions, a considerable number of emigrants still found their way across the Atlantic. But when the outburst of popular indignation swept away all the barriers raised by a short-sighted tyranny against English freedom, many flocked hack again to their native country to enjoy its newly-acquired liberty. [1648.] The odious and iniquitous persecution of the Puritans resulted in a great benefit to the human race, and gave the first strong impulse to the spirit of resistance that ultimately overthrew oppression. It caused, also, the colonization of New England to be effected by a class of men far superior in industry, energy, principle, and character to those who usually left their English homes to seek their fortunes in new countries. That religion, for which they had made so great a sacrifice, was the main-spring of all their social and political systems. They were, however, too blindly zealous to discriminate between the peculiar administration of a theocracy and the catholic and abiding principles of the Gospel. If they did not openly profess that the judicial law of Moses was still in force, they at any rate openly practiced its stern enactments. The intolerance of these martyrs of intolerance is a sad example of human waywardness. As the tenets of each successive sect rose into popularity and influenced the majority, they became state questions, The Antinomian sect shortly after excited a still more dangerous commotion in the colony. [1637.] Mrs. Hutchinson, a Lincolnshire lady of great zeal and determination, joined by nearly the whole female population, adopted these views in the strongest manner. The ministers of the church, although decided Calvinists, and firmly opposed to the Romish doctrines of salvation by works, earnestly pressed the reformation of heart and conduct as a test of religion. Mrs. Hutchinson and her followers held that to inculcate any rule of life or manners was a crime against the Holy Spirit; in their actual deportment, however, it must be confessed that their bitterest enemies could not find grounds of censure. With the powerful advocacy of female zeal, these doctrines spread rapidly, and the whole colony was soon divided between "the covenant of works and the covenant of grace;" the ardor and obstinacy of the disputants being by no means proportioned to their full understanding of the point As might have been supposed, this condemnation had but little effect. The obnoxious principles were preached as widely and zealously as before, till the civil authority resorted to the rude argument of force, banished Mr. Wheelwright, one of the leaders, with two of his followers, from the colony, and fined and disfranchised others. Mrs. Hutchinson was ultimately accused, condemned, and ordered to leave the colony in six months. Although she made a sort of recantation of her errors, her inexorable judges insisted in carrying out the sentence. Although by these violent and unjust punishments, and by disarming the disaffected, the Antinomian spirit was for a time put down, unity was by no means restored. Pride and the love of novelty continually gave birth to new sects. Ministers, who had possessed the highest reputation in England, saw with sorrow that their colonial churches were neglected for the sake of ignorant and mischievous enthusiasts. Even common profligates and rogues, when other lesser villainies had failed, assumed the hypocritical semblance of some peculiar religion, and enjoyed their day of popularity. The Anabaptists next carried away the fickle affections of the multitude, and excited the enmity of their rulers. [1643.] This schism first became perceptible by people leaving the church when the rites of baptism were being administered; but at length private meetings for worship were held, attended by large congregations. The magistrates, as usual, practiced great severities against these seceders, first by fine, imprisonment, and even whipping; finally by banishment. The Anabaptists were, however, not put down by the arm of power, but were speedily forgotten in the sudden appearance of a stranger sect than any that had hitherto appeared even in New England. The people called Quakers had lately made their appearance in the north of England. [1648.] They soon found their way to America, where they were received with bitter hostility from the commencement. [1656.] The dangerous enthusiasts who first went forth to preach the doctrines of this strange sect were very different men from those who now command the respect and good will of all classes by their industry, benevolence, and love of order. The original propagandists believed that the divine government was still administered on earth by direct and special communication, as in the times chronicled by Holy Writ: they therefore despised and disregarded all human authorities. To actual force, indeed, they only opposed a passive resistance; and their patience and obstinacy in carrying out this principle must excite astonishment, if not admiration. But their language was most violent and abusive against all priests and ministers, governors and magistrates. The ministers and magistrates came to the conclusion that the colony could never enjoy peace while the Quakers continued among them. These sectarians were altogether unmanageable by the means of ordinary power or reason; they would neither pay fines nor work in prison, nor, when liberated, promise to amend their conduct. The government now enacted still more violent laws against them, one, among others, rendering them liable to have their ears cut off for obstinacy; and yet this strange fanaticism increased from day to day. At length the Quakers were banished from the colony, under the threat of death in case of return. They were, however, scarcely beyond the borders when a supposed inspiration prompted them to retrace their steps to Boston: scarcely had their absence been observed, when their solemn voices were again heard denouncing the city of their persecutors. The horrible law decreeing the punishment of death against the Quakers had only been carried by a majority of thirteen to twelve in the Colonial Court of Deputies, and after a strong opposition; but, to the eternal disgrace of the local government, its atrocious provisions were carried into effect, and four of the unhappy fanatics were judicially murdered. The tidings of these executions filled England with horror. Even Charles II. was moved to interpose the royal power for the protection of at least the lives of the obnoxious sectarians. He issued a warrant on the 9th of September, 1661, absolutely prohibiting the punishment of death against Quakers, and directing that they should be sent to England for trial. In consequence of this interference, no more executions took place, but other penalties were continued with unabated severity. While the persecution of the Quakers and Anabaptists raged in New England, an important addition to the numbers of the colonists was gained, a large body of Nonconformists having fled across the Atlantic from a fresh assault commenced against their liberties by Charles II. This Puritan emigration was regarded with great displeasure by the king. He speedily took an opportunity of arbitrarily depriving the colony of its charter, and sent out Sir Edmund Andros to administrate as absolute governor. The country soon felt painfully the despotic tyranny of their new ruler; and the establishment of an English Church, with the usual ritual, spread general consternation. When James ascended the throne, a proclamation of tolerance somewhat allayed the fears of the settlers; but the administration of temporal affairs became ruinously oppressive. On the pretense that the titles of all land obtained under the old charter had become void by its abrogation, new and exorbitant fees were exacted, heavy and injudicious taxes arbitrarily imposed, and all right of representation denied to the colonists. At length, in the year 1689, a man, named Winslow, brought from Virginia the joyful news of the Prince of Orange's proclamation; he was immediately arrested for treason; but the people rose tumultuously, imprisoned the governor, and re-established the authority of their old magistrates. On the 26th of May, a vessel arrived with the intelligence that William and Mary had been proclaimed in England. Although the new monarch declared himself favorably disposed toward the colonists, he did not restore their beloved charter. He, however, granted them a Constitution nearly similar to that of the mother country, which rendered the people of New England tolerably contented. The colony was now fated to suffer from a delusion more frantic and insane than any it had hitherto admitted, and which compromised its very existence. The New Englanders had brought with them the belief in witchcraft prevalent among the early reformers, and the wild and savage wilderness where their lot was now cast tended to deepen the impressions of superstition upon their minds. Two young girls, of the family of Mr. Paris, minister of Salem, were suddenly afflicted with a singular complaint, probably of an hysterical character, which baffled the united skill of the neighboring physicians; till one, more decided than the rest, declared that the sufferers were bewitched. From this time prayers and fasting were the remedies adopted, and the whole town of Salem at length joined in a day of humiliation. The patients, however, did not improve, till an Indian servingwoman denounced another, named Tituba, as the author of the evil. Mr. Paris assailed the accused, and tortured her in the view of extracting a confession of guilt, which she at length made, with many absurd particulars, hoping to appease her persecutor. From this time the mischievous folly spread wider; a respectable clergyman, Mr. Burroughs, was tried for witchcraft on the evidence of five women, and condemned to death, his only defense being that he was accused of that which had no existence, and was impossible. New charges multiplied daily; the jails of Salem were full of the accused, and prisoners were transferred to other towns, where the silly infection spread, and filled the whole colony with alarm. Nothing could afford stronger proof of the hold which this sad delusion had taken of the popular mind than the readiness so constantly displayed by the accused to confess the monstrous imputation, whose punishment was infamy and death. Many detailed long consultations held with Satan for the purpose of overthrowing the kingdom of heaven. In some cases these confessions were the result of distempered understandings; but, generally, they may be attributed to the hope of respite and ultimate reprieve, as none but the supposed impenitent sorcerers were executed. Thus only the truthful and conscientious suffered from the effects of this odious insanity. Some among the wretched people who had confessed witchcraft showed a subsequent disposition to retract. A man named Samuel Wardmell, having solemnly recanted his former statement, was tried, condemned, and executed. Despite this terrible warning, a few others followed the conscientious but fatal example. Every one of the sufferers during this dreadful period protested their innocence to the last. It seems difficult to discover any adequate motives for these atrocious and constant accusations. There is too much reason to believe that the confiscation of the condemned persons' property, malice against the accused, a desire to excite the public mind, and gain the notice and favor of those in power, were generally the objects of the witnesses. The evil at length attained such a frightful magnitude that the firmest believers in witchcraft began to waver. In two months nineteen unhappy victims had been executed, eight more remained under sentence of death, 150 accused were still in prison, and there was no more room for the crowds daily brought in. No character or position was a shield against these absurd imputations; all lay at the mercy of a few mad or malignant beings. The first mitigation of the mischief was effected by the governor assembling the ministers to discuss whether what was called specter evidence should be held sufficient for the condemnation of the accused. The assembly decided against that particular sort of evidence being conclusive; but, at the same time, exhorted the governor to persevere in the vigorous prosecution of witchcraft, "according to the wholesome statutes of the English nation." While the settlers of New England were distracted by their own madness and intolerance, they had to contend with great external difficulties from the animosity of the Indians. The native races in this part of the continent appear to have been in some respects superior to those dwelling by the shores of the St. Lawrence and the Great Lake. They acknowledged the absolute power of a sachem or king, which gave a dangerous vigor and unity to their actions. They at first received the English with hospitality and kindness, and the colonists, on their part, passed laws to protect not only the persons of the natives, but to insure them an equitable price for their lands. The narrowed limits of their hunting-grounds, however, and the rapid advance of the white men, soon began to alarm the Indians. It has been an unfortunate feature of European settlement in America, that the border population, those most in contact with the natives, have been visually men of wild and desperate character, the tainted foam of the advancing tide of civilization. Those reckless adventurers were little scrupulous in their dealings with the simple savage; they utterly disregarded those rights which his weakness could not defend, and by intolerable provocation excited him to a bloody but futile resistance. The Indians naturally confounded the whole English race with these contemptuous oppressors, and commenced a war that resulted in their own extermination. They did not face the English in the field, but hovered round the border, and, with sudden surprise, overwhelmed detached posts and settlements in a horrible destruction. The astute colonists soon adopted the policy of forming alliances, and taking advantage of ancient enmities to stir up hostilities among them. By this means they accomplished the destruction of the warlike Pequods, The New England settlers showed more sincerity than other adventurers in endeavoring to accomplish their principal professed object of colonization, that of teaching Christianity to the Indians. "They were restless from the consciousness of ability to act a more important part on the theater of the world ... they were moved by an enlightened desire of improving their condition ... the honorable ambition of becoming the founders of a state."—Bancroft's History of the United States, vol. i., p. 303. The Grand Council of Plymouth resigned their charter in 1635. Lord Nugent has fallen into the vulgar error, an invention, probably, of the Puritan historian, and unanswerably disproved by a reference to Parliamentary records. See Miss Aikin's Life of Charles I., vol. i., p. 472; Bancroft's History of the United States, vol. i., p. 411. The exultation of the Puritan writers on the subject is excessive. They ascribe all the subsequent misfortunes of Charles I. in connection with the scheme of Providence to this tyrannical edict, as they call it.—Russell's Modern Europe, vol. ii., p. 237. See Bancroft's History of the United States, vol. i., p. 412. "Nothing could be more barbarous than this! To impose laws on men which in conscience they thought they could not comply with, to punish them for their noncompliance, and continually revile them as undutiful and disobedient subjects by reason thereof, and yet not permit them peaceably to depart and enjoy their own opinions in a distant part of the world, yet dependent on the sovereign: to do all this was base, barbarous, and inhuman. But persecutors of all ages and nations are near the same; they are without the feelings and the understandings of men. Cromwell or Hampden could have given little opposition to the measures of Charles in the wilds of North America. In England they engaged with spirit against him, and he had reason to repent his hindering their voyage. May such at all times be the reward of those who attempt to rule over their fellow-men with rigor: may they find that they will not be slaves to kings or priests, but that they know the rights by nature conferred on them, and will assert them! This will make princes cautious how they give themselves up to arbitrary counsels, and dread the consequences of them."—Harris's Life of Cromwell, p. 56. "'Let men of God in court and churches watch "Sir Harry Vane returned to England immediately after the loss of his election. His personal experience of the uncharitableness and intolerance exercised upon one another by men who had themselves been the victims of a similar spirit at home, seems to have produced for some time a tranquilizing effect upon the mind of Vane. He was reconciled to his father, married by his direction a lady of family, obtained the place of joint treasurer of the navy, and exhibited for some time no hostility to the measures of the government. But his fire was smothered only, not extinguished."—Miss Aikin's Life of Charles I., vol. i., p. 481. "After the Restoration of Charles II., Sir Harry Vane suffered death upon the block. (See Hallam, vol. ii., p. 443.) The manner of his death was the admiration of his times."—Bancroft, vol. ii., p. 40. "Boston may be ranked as the seat of the Unitarians, as Baltimore is that of the Roman Catholics, and Philadelphia that of the Quakers.... No axiom is more applicable to the pensive, serious, scrutinizing inhabitant of the New England States than this: 'What I do not understand, I reject as worthless and false;' so said one of the most learned men of Boston to me. 'Why occupy the mind with that which is incomprehensible? Have we not enough of that which appears clear and plain around us?' ... The greater part of the Bostonians, including every one of wealth, talents, and learning, have adopted this doctrine."—Arfwedson, vol. i., p. 179. "In Boston all the leading men are Unitarians, a creed peculiarly acceptable to the pride and self-sufficiency of our nature, asserting, as it does, the independence and perfectibility of man, and denying the necessity of atonement or sanctification by supernatural influences. "Though every where in New England the greatest possible decency and respect with regard to morals and religion is still observed, I have no hesitation in saying that I do not think the New Englanders a religious people. The assertion, I know, is paradoxical, but it is nevertheless true, that is, if a strong and earnest belief be a necessary element in a religious character: to me it seems to be its very essence and foundation. I am not now speaking of belief in the truth, but belief in something or any thing which is removed from the action of the senses.... I am not trusting to my own limited observation in arriving at this conclusion; I find in M. de Tocqueville's work an assertion of the same fact. He accounts for it, indeed, in a different way.... What I complain of is, not the absence of nominal, but of real, heartfelt, unearthly religion, such as led the Puritan Nonconformists to sacrifice country and kindred, and brave the dangers of the ocean and the wilderness for the sake of what they believed God's truth. In my opinion, those men were prejudiced and mistaken, and committed great and grievous faults; but there was, at least, a redeeming element in their character—that of high conscientiousness. There was no compromise of truth, no sacrifice to expediency about them; they believed in the invisible, and they acted on that belief. Every where the tone of religious feeling, since that time, has been altered and relaxed, but perhaps nowhere so much as in the land where the descendants of those Pilgrims lived."—Godley's Letters from America, vol. ii., p. 90, 133. Arfwedson says, "Close to the town of Salem is Beverley, a small, insignificant place, remarkable only in the annals of history as having formerly contained a superstitious population. Many lives have here been cruelly sacrificed, and the barren hill is still in existence where persons accused of witchcraft were hung upon tall trees. Tradition points out the place where the witches of old resided. Cotton Mather records in a work, truly original for that age, that the good people who lived near Massachusetts Bay were every night roused from their slumbers by the sound of a trumpet, summoning all the witches and demons."—Cotton Mather's Magnalia; Arfwedson, vol. i., p. 186. "And thrice that night the trumpet rang, "They gathered there from every land "To this day the Council of Massachusets, in the impress of their public seal, have an Indian engraven, with these words: 'Come over and help us,' alluding to Acts, xv., 9."—Narrative of the Wars in New England, 1675. Harleian Miscellany, vol. v., p. 400. Dr. Dwight says of him, "He was naturally qualified beyond almost any other man for the business of a missionary. In promoting among the Indians agriculture, health, morals, and religion, this great and good man labored with constancy, faithfulness, and benevolence which place his name not unworthily among those who are arranged immediately after the apostles of our Divine Redeemer." Eliot translated the Holy Scriptures into the Indian language. In 1661, the New Testament, dedicated to Charles II., was printed at Cambridge, in New England, and about three years afterward, it was followed by the Old Testament. This was the first Bible ever printed in America; and, though the impression consisted of 2000 copies, a second edition was required in 1685.—Ibid., p. 27. "When at Harvard College, a copy of the Bible was shown me by Mr. Jared Sparks, translated by the missionary, Father Eliot, into the Indian tongue. It is now a dead language, although preached for several generations to crowded congregations."—Lyell's America, vol. i., p. 260. "Eliot had become an acute grammarian by his studies at the English university of Cambridge. Having finished his laborious and difficult work, the Indian grammar, at the close of it, under a full sense of the difficulties he had encountered, and the acquisition he had made, he said, 'Prayers and pains, through faith in Christ Jesus, do any thing.'"—Life of Eliot, p. 55. "The Honorable Robert Boyle often strengthened Eliot's hands and encouraged him in his work—he who was not more admirable among philosophers for his discoveries in science, than he was beloved by Christians for his active kindness and his pious spirit."—Ibid., p. 64. "Nor was Eliot alone. In the islands round Massachusetts, and within the limits of the Plymouth patent, missionary zeal and missionary enterprise were active; and the gentle Mayhew, forgetting the pride of learning, endeavored to win the natives to a new religion. At a later day, he took passage for New England to awaken interest there, and the ship in which he sailed was never more heard of. But such had been the force of his example, that his father, though bowed down with the weight of seventy years, resolved on assuming the office of the son whom he had lost, and till beyond the age of fourscore years and twelve, continued to instruct the natives, and with the happiest results. The Indians within his influence, though twenty times more numerous than the whites in their immediate neighborhood, preserved an immutable friendship with Massachusetts."—Bancroft's Hist of the United States, vol. ii., p. 97. See Missionary Records; Life of Eliot; Mayhew's Indian Converts; T. Prince's Account of English Ministers. |