newspapers. Perhaps the most important is a set of volumes entitled "The
Olden Times Series," prepared by Mr. Henry M. Brooks, a painstaking
antiquary, and published in Boston, Massachusetts. Not the least
interesting of the volumes is one devoted to the _New England Sunday_. The
opening page proves that neither the rich nor the poor were permitted to
break the strict Sabbath regulations. In Connecticut, in 1789, General
Washington was stopped by the officer representing the State authorities
for riding on Sunday. The circumstances were reported in the columns of
the _Columbian Centinel_ for December of that year. "The President," it is
stated, "on his return to New York from his late tour through Connecticut,
having missed his way on Saturday, was obliged to ride a few miles on
Sunday, in order to gain the town, at which he had previously proposed to
attend divine service. Before he arrived, however, he was met by a
Tythingman, who, commanding him to stop, demanded the occasion of his
riding; and it was not until the President had informed him of every
circumstance, and promised to go no farther than the town intended, that
the Tythingman would permit him to proceed on his journey."
In the old days, little attempt was made to render the places of worship
attractive, or even to warm the rooms in which the preachers delivered
their long sermons, although the people were obliged by law to attend the
services unless they were sick. It was a serious matter not to be a
"meeting-goer," it was, as Mr. Brooks says, to be ranged with thieves and
other outlaws. Mr. Felt, the compiler of the _Annals of Salem_, has
brought together some items of interest bearing on the introduction of
stoves into the churches of the district. "For a long period," writes Mr.
Felt, "the people of our country did not consider that a comfortable
degree of warmth while at public worship contributed much to a profitable
hearing of the gospel." He states that the first stove heard of in
Massachusetts for a meeting-house was put up by the first Congregation of
Boston in 1773. Two stoves were placed in the Friends' Society
meeting-house at Salem in 1793, and one in the North Church, Salem in
1809. "Not a few remember," writes Mr. Brooks, "the general knocking of
feet on cold days and near the close of long sermons. On such occasions,
the Rev. Dr. Hopkins used to say now and then: 'My hearers, have a little
patience, and I will soon close.'"
One of Mr. Brook's volumes deals with _Strange and Curious Punishments_,
and it gives particulars of many harsh and cruel laws. It appears, from an
address delivered before the Essex Bar Association in 1885, that the
old-time punishments in America were much milder than the criminal laws of
England at the time, and the number of capital offences was greatly
reduced. Persons were frequently whipped. The following is an example
drawn from the Essex County Court Records: "In 1643, Roger Scott, for
repeated sleeping in meeting on the Lord's Day, and for striking the
person who waked him, was, at Salem, sentenced to be severely whipped."
Whipping appears to have been a common means of punishing offenders who
transgressed the laws. In the month of January, 1761, we see it stated
that four men for petty larceny were publicly whipped at the cart's tail
through the streets of New York. We gather from another newspaper report
that a man named Andrew Cayto received forty-nine stripes at the public
whipping-post for house-robbery--namely, for robbing one house,
thirty-nine stripes; and for robbing the other, ten stripes. It appears in
some instances prisoners had, as part of their sentence, to sit on the
gallows with ropes about their necks. We read: "At Ipswich, Massachusetts,
June 1763, one Francis Brown for stealing a large quantity of goods, was
found guilty; and it being the second conviction, he was sentenced by the
Court to sit on the gallows an hour with a rope round his neck, to be
whipt thirty stripes, and pay treble damages." The man was a native of
Lisbon, and described as a great thief. "We hear from Worcester," says the
_Boston Chronicle_, November 20th, 1769, "that on the 8th instant one
Lindsay stood in the pillory there one hour, after which he received
thirty stripes at the public whipping-post, and was then branded on the
hand; his crime was forgery." It appears that it was the custom to brand
by means of hot iron the letter F on the palm of the right hand.
We find that at this period persons found guilty of passing counterfeit
dollars were sentenced to have their ears cropped.
To illustrate his subject Mr. Brooks draws from Felt's _Annals of Salem_
not a few quaint items. It is stated that "in 1637, Dorothy Talby, for
beating her husband, is ordered to be bound to and chained to a post." It
is recorded that "in 1649 women were prosecuted in Salem for scolding,"
and probably in many cases whipped or ducked. The ducking-stool appears to
have been frequently employed. Under date of May 15th 1672, we find it
stated: "The General Court of Massachusetts orders that scolds and railers
shall be gagged or set in a ducking stool, and dipped over head and ears
three times."
We find particulars of one Philip Ratclif for making "hard speeches
against Salem Church, as well as the Government," sentenced to pay "forty
pounds, to be whipped, to have his ears cropped, and to be banished." The
date of this case is 1631. In the _Annals of Salem_, under date for May
3rd, 1669, it is recorded that "Thomas Maule is ordered to be whipped for
saying that Mr. Higgenson preached lies, and that his instruction was 'the
doctrine of devils.'"
The Quakers were very severely dealt with. At Salem, for making
disturbances in the meeting-house, etc., Josiah Southwick, Mrs. Wilson,
Mrs. Buffum, and other Quakers, were whipped at the cart's tail through
the town. After being banished, Southwick returned to Salem, and for this
offence was whipped through the towns of Boxton, Roxbury, and Dedham.
In bygone times, hanging the remains of persons executed was general in
England; in America it was an uncommon practice. Mr. Brooks, however,
gives particulars of a few instances. At Newport, Rhode Island, on March
12th, 1715, a man named Mecum, was executed for murder; and his body hung
in chains on Miantonomy Hill, where the bodies of some Indians executed
three years previously were then hanging. A negro hanged at Newport in
1769 was gibbetted on the same hill.
A few lighter passages than those we have studied brighten up the records
of American punishments, which were very severe. A prisoner in February,
1789, escaped through the jail chimney at Portsmouth, New Hampshire, and
wrote on the wall as follows: "The reason of my going is because I have no
fire to comfort myself with, and very little provision. So I am sure if I
was to stay any longer I should perish to death. Look at that bed there!
Do you think it fit for any person to lie on?
"If you are well, I am well;
Mend the chimney, and all's well!"
To the gentlemen and officers of Portsmouth, from your humble servant,
WILLIAM FALL.
"N.B.--I am very sorry that I did not think of this before, for if I had,
your people should not have had the pleasure of seeing me take the
lashes."
_Curiosities of the Lottery_ is the title of another volume of Mr.
Brooks's "Olden Time Series." Selling lottery tickets was regarded as a
respectable calling. "The better the man," says Mr. Brooks, "the better
the agent. Indeed, it was generally thought to be just as respectable to
sell lottery tickets as to sell Bibles; and we have them classed together
in the same advertisement." In England, we must not forget the fact that
the business was conducted on the same lines in bygone times. The first
lottery in this country was drawn day and night at the west door of St.
Paul's Cathedral, London, from the 11th of January to May 6th, 1569. The
profit, which was considerable, was devoted to the repair of harbours. The
prizes consisted of pieces of plate.
In the United States, lotteries were instituted for a variety of objects,
including building bridges, cleaning rivers, rebuilding Faneuil Hall,
raising money to successfully carry on the work of Dartmouth College,
Harvard College, and other seats of learning. The advertisements were
extremely quaint, illustrated with crudely drawn but effective pictures,
and supplied "a speedy cure for a broken fortune." Rhymes as well as
pictures were largely employed in advertisements for lotteries. Much has
been spoken and written against lotteries; but, nevertheless, in some of
the States of the Union they are still lawful.
With a dip into a volume called _Days of the Spinning Wheel_, we bring our
old-time gleanings to a close. The items we cull relate to a trade once
very general in the United States, but happily now a thing of the past.
Advertisements similar to the following appeared in all the American
newspapers; not a few of the publishers took an active part in the trade
of buying and selling human beings. "To be sold," advertises the _Boston
Evening Gazette_, 1741, "by the printer of this paper, the very best negro
woman in this town, who has had the small pox and measles; is as hearty as
a horse, as brisk as a bird, and will work like a beaver." The same
publisher stated that he also had on sale "a negro man about thirty years
old, who can do both town and country business very well, but will suit
the country best, where they have not so many dram-shops as we have in
Boston. He has worked at the printing business fifteen or sixteen years;
can handle axe, saw, spade, hoe, or other instrument of husbandry as well
as most men, and values himself and is valued by others for his skill in
cookery."
In the _Gazette_ of May 12, 1760, is offered for sale "a negro woman about
twenty-eight years of age; she is remarkably healthy and strong, and has
several other good qualities; and is offered for sale for no other reason
than her being of a furious temper, somewhat lazy. Smart discipline would
make her a very good servant. Any person minded to purchase may be further
informed by inquiring of the printer." It will be gathered from the
foregoing that the faults of the slaves were clearly stated.
Children were often given away; and many announcements like the following,
drawn from the _Postboy_, February 28, 1763, appeared:--"To be given away,
a male negro child of good breed, and in good health. Inquire of Green
and Russell."
Runaway slaves gave considerable trouble to their owners, and the papers
include numerous advertisements, details respecting appearance, speech,
dress, etc., of the missing persons. After describing his runaway slave,
the owner concluded his announcement thus: "All masters of vessels and
others are cautioned against harbouring, concealing, or carrying off the
said negro, if they would avoid the rigour of the law."
The Earliest American Poetess:
Anne Bradstreet.
To Northamptonshire belongs the honour of giving birth to the first woman
poet who produced a volume of poetry in America. Her name was Anne
Bradstreet. She was born in the year 1612. The place of her birth is not
absolutely certain. "There is little doubt," says Helen Campbell, the
author of "Anne Bradstreet, and Her Time," "that Northampton, England, was
the home of her father's family." At an early age she sailed with her
father, Thomas Dudley, to Massachusetts Bay, he being one of the earliest
settlers in New England. For some years he had been steward to the Earl of
Lincoln. He was a man of means, and belonged to a good family, claiming
kinship with the Dudleys and Sidneys of Penshurst. Literature had for him
many charms; he wrote poetry, and, says his daughter, he was a "magazine
of history." He left his native country and braved the perils of sea and
land to settle in a distant clime where he might worship God according to
his conscience. This stern, truth-speaking Puritan soon had his sterling
merits recognised, and held the governorship of Massachusetts from 1634 to
1650. He closed at the age of seventy-seven years a well-spent life. After
death, in his pocket were found some of his recently written verses. His
daughter Anne was a woman of active and refined mind, having acquired
considerable culture at a time when educational accomplishments were
possessed by few. She suffered much from ill-health; in her girlhood she
was stricken with small pox, and was also lame. Her many trials cast a
tinge of sadness over her life and writings.
She grew up to be a winsome woman, gaining esteem from the leading people
of her adopted country, and her fame as a writer of poetry reached the
land of her nativity.
She married, in 1629, Simon Bradstreet, Secretary, and afterwards
Governor, of the Colony.
Her first volume, published at Boston in 1640, was dedicated to her
father. The title is very long, and is as follows: "Several Poems,
compiled with great variety of wit and learning, full of delight, wherein
especially is contained a Complete Discourse and Description of the Four
Elements, Constitutions, Ages of Man, and Seasons of the Year; together
with an exact Epitome of the Three First Monarchies, viz.: the Assyrian,
Persian, and Grecian, and the Beginning of the Roman Commonwealth to the
end of their last King; with divers other pleasant and serious Poems. By a
Gentlewoman of New England." The book met with much favour, and soon
passed into a second edition. In the third edition, issued in 1658, her
character is thus sketched: "It is the work of a woman honoured and
esteemed where she lives, for her gracious demeanour, her eminent parts,
her pious conversation, her courteous disposition, her exact diligence in
her place, and discreet management of her family occasions; and more so,
these poems are the fruits of a few hours curtailed from her sleep, and
other refreshments." The work was reprinted and published in London in
1650, with the high-sounding title of "The Tenth Muse, lately sprung up in
America." Compared with much that was written in the age in which she
lived, her poetry is entitled to a foremost rank, but it is not
sufficiently good to gain for it a lasting place in literature. It mainly
attracts attention in our time as being the first collection of poetry
published in America.
Professor Charles F. Richardson, one of the soundest American critics,
speaks of some of the poems as by "no means devoid of merit, though
disfigured by a paucity of words and stiffness of style." The estimable
writer of this volume won words of praise from her leading countrymen.
President Rogers, of Harvard College, himself a poet, thus addressed
her:--
"Madam, twice through the Muses's grove I walked
Under your blissful bowers--
Twice have I drunk the nectar of your lines."
All her critics were not so complimentary as President Rogers. Some did
not think that a woman had a right to produce poetry and to such she
adverts in the following lines:--
"I am obnoxious to each carping tongue
Who says my hand a needle better fits,
A poet's pen all scorn I should thus wrong,
For such despite they cast on female wits:
If what I do prove well, it won't advance;
They'll say it's stol'n, or else it was by chance."
Here are four lines on "The Vanity of all Worldly Things," which, give a
favourable example of her poetic power:--
"As he said vanity, so vain say I,
Oh vanity, O vain all under sky;
Where is man can say, lo! I have found
On brittle earth a consolation sound?"
The next specimen of her poetry is an "Elegy on a Grandchild":--
"Farewell, sweet babe, the pleasure of mine eye;
Farewell, fair flower, that for a space was lent,
Then ta'en away into eternity.
Blest Babe, why should I once bewail thy fate,
Or sigh the days so soon were terminate,
Sith thou art settled in an everlasting state?"
"By nature trees do rot when they are grown,
And plums and apples thoroughly ripe do fall,
And corn and grass are in their season mown,
And time brings down what is both strong and tall;
But plants new set to be eradicate,
And buds new-bloom to have so short a date,
'Tis by His hand alone that nature guides, and fate."
The lines which follow were written in the prospect of death, and
addressed to her husband:--
"How soon, my dear, death may my steps attend,
How soon 't may be thy lot to lose thy friend,
We both are ignorant. Yet love bids me
These farewell lines to recommend to thee,
That, when that knot's untied that made us one
I may seem thine, who in effect am none.
"And, if I see not half my days that's due,
What Nature would God grant to yours and you.
The many faults that well you know I have,
Let be interred in my oblivious grave;
If any virtue is in me,
Let that live freshly in my memory;
And when thou feel'st no griefs, as I no harms,
Yet live thy dead, who long lay in thine arms;
And, when thy loss shall be repaid with gains,
Look to my little babes, my dear remains,
And, if thou lov'st thyself or lovest me,
These, oh protect from step-dame's injury!
And, if chance to thine eyes doth bring this verse,
With some sighs honour my absent hearse,
And kiss this paper, for thy love's dear sake,
Who with salt tears this last farewell doth take."
In the year 1666, her house at Andover was consumed by fire, and her
letters and papers destroyed, which put an end to one of her literary
projects. Six years later she died, at the age of sixty years. It is said
of her by an American author: "Her numbers are seldom correct, and her ear
had little of Milton's tenderness or Shakespeare's grace; yet she was the
contemporary of England's greatest poets, the offspring of that age of
melody which had begun with Spenser and Sidney, an echo, from the distant
wilderness of the period of universal song." Several of her descendants
are amongst the most gifted of American poets; they include Channing,
Dana, Holmes, and others. Her husband nearly reached the age of a hundred
years, and was termed "the Nestor of New England."
A Playful Poet:
Miss Catherine Fanshawe.
Several lasting contributions were made to poetical literature by Miss
Catherine Maria Fanshawe. In the literary and artistic circles of London
in the closing years of the last century, and for more than three decades
of the present century she was popular.
Miss Fanshawe was born in 1775, and came of a good old English family. At
an early age she displayed literary gifts full of promise. The following
sonnet, written at the age of fourteen and addressed to her mother, has
perhaps not been excelled by any youthful writer:--
"Oh thou! who still by piercing woe pursued,
Alone and pensive, pour'st thy sorrows here,
Forgive, if on thy griefs I dare intrude
To wipe from thy lov'd cheek the falling tear.
Dear mourner, think!--thy son will weep no more;
His life was spotless, and his death was mild,
And, when this vain delusive life is o'er,
He'll shine a seraph, whom thou lost a child.
Then, as we bend before th' eternal throne,
Oh may'st thou, with exulting accents boast,
'Now shall my children ever be my own,
For none of those thou gavest me are lost.'
With rapture then thou'lt meet th' angelic boy,
And she who sow'd in tears shall meet in joy."
_August, 1789._
A long playful poem composed at the age of sixteen, was addressed to the
Earl of Harcourt, on his wishing to spell her name, Catherine, with a K.
It displays much erudition, but it is too long to quote in full. We give a
few of the lines pleading for the letter C:--
"And can his antiquarian eyes,
My Anglo-Saxon C despise?
And does Lord Harcourt day by day,
Regret the extinct initial K?
And still with ardour unabated,
Labour to get it reinstated?
I know, my lord, your generous passion,
For every long exploded fashion;
And own the Catherine you delight in,
Looks irresistibly inviting,
Appears to bear the stamp and mark,
Of English used in Noah's Ark;
'But all that glitters is not gold,'
Not all things obsolete are old.
Would you but take the pains to look,
In Dr. Johnson's quarto book
(As I did, wishing much to see,
Th' aforesaid letter's pedigree),
Believe me, 'twould a tale unfold,
Would make your Norman blood run cold;
My lord, you'll find the K's no better,
Than an interpolated letter;
A wand'ring Greek, a franchis'd alien,
Derived from Cadmus or Deucalion;
And why, or wherefore, none can tell,
Inserted 'twixt the J and L.
The learned say, our English tongue
On Gothic beams is built and hung.
Then why the solid fabric piece,
With motley ornaments from Greece?
Her lettered despots had no bowels,
For northern consonants and vowels;
The Roman and the Greek grammarian
Deem'd us, and all our words barbarian;
'Till those hard words, and harder blows,
Had silenced all our haughty foes;
And proud they were to kiss the sandals
(Shoes we had none) of Goths and Vandals."
She wrote a satire on William Cobbett, M.P., for Oldham, which was
extremely popular amongst politicians at the period it was penned. This is
not surprising, for it contains some most amusing lines. It is entitled
"The Speech of the Member for Odium."
In the lighter vein she produced some verses in imitation of the poetry of
Wordsworth.
"There is a river clear and fair,
'Tis neither broad nor narrow;
It winds a little here and there,
It winds about like any hare;
And then it takes as straight a course
As on the turnpike road a horse,
Or through the air an arrow.
The trees that grow upon the shore,
Have grown a hundred years or more,
So long, there is no knowing.
Old Daniel Dobson does not know,
When first these trees began to grow;
But still they grew, and grew, and grew,
As if they'd nothing else to do,
But ever to be growing.
The impulses of air and sky
Have reared their stately stems so high,
And clothed their boughs with green;
Their leaves the dews of evening quaff,--
And when the wind blows loud and keen,
I've seen the jolly timbers laugh,
And shake their sides with merry glee--
Wagging their heads in mockery.
Fix'd are their feet in solid earth,
Where winds can never blow;
But visitings of deeper birth
Have reached their roots below.
For they have gained the river's brink,
And of the living waters drink.
There's little Will, a five year's child--
He is my youngest boy;
To look on eyes so fair and wild,
It is a very joy:--
He hath conversed with sun and shower,
And dwelt with every idle flower,
As fresh and gay as them.
He loiters with the briar rose,
The blue-bells are his play-fellows,
That dance upon their slender stem.
And I have said, my little Will
Why should not he continue still
A thing of Nature's rearing?
A thing beyond the world's control--
A living vegetable soul,--
No human sorrow fearing.
It were a blessed sight to see
That child become a willow tree,
His brother trees among.
He'd be four time as tall as me,
And live three times as long."
It was related by the Rev. William Harness, who did much to make known the
merits of Miss Fanshawe's works, that when the foregoing lines were read
to a distinguished admirer of Wordsworth's poetry, she thought them
beautiful, and wondered why the poet had never shown them to her!
Miss Fanshawe's fame rests on the authorship of the celebrated riddle on
the letter H, which has frequently been attributed to Byron, and appeared
in more than one edition of his poems. At a party held one evening at the
house of her friend, Mr. Hope, of Deep Dene, the conversation turned upon
the abuse of the aspirate. After the guests had withdrawn, Miss Fanshawe
retired to her room and composed her noted poem. Next morning she read it
at the breakfast table, much to the surprise and delight of the company.
It is as follows:--
"'Twas in heaven pronounced, and 'twas muttered in hell,
And echo caught faintly the sound as it fell;
On the confines of earth 'twas permitted to rest,
And the depths of the ocean its presence confest.
'Twill be found in the sphere, when 'tis riven asunder,
Be seen in the lightning, and heard in the thunder.
'Twas allotted to man with his earliest breath,
Attends at his birth, and awaits him in death,
Presides o'er his happiness, honour, and health,
Is the prop of his house, and the end of his wealth.
In the heaps of the miser 'tis hoarded with care,
But is sure to be lost on his prodigal heir,
It begins every hope, every wish it must bound,
With the husbandman toils, and with monarchs is crown'd,
Without it the soldier, the seaman may roam,
But woe to the wretch who expels it from home!
In the whispers of conscience its voice will be found,
Nor e'en in the whirlpool of passion be drown'd,
'Twill not soften the heart; but though deaf to the ear,
It will make it acutely and instantly hear.
Yet in shade let it rest like a delicate flower,
Ah, breathe on it softly--it dies in an hour.
Some other riddles and charades appear in her collected poems, but none
are of equal merit to the riddle on the letter H.
Our next example bears the title of an "Ode":--