CHAPTER III.

During my early life a house stood in North street between the house

of Mrs. Ruth H. Baker and the present Plymouth Rock House, concerning

the occupants of which I must say a word. It was a double house,

the westerly end of which was occupied by Ebenezer Drew, his wife

Deborah, or Aunt Debby, as she was called, and his brother Malachi.

Ebenezer had no children and Malachi was a bachelor. They were the

salt of the earth and the salt had not lost its savor. Without

the three it would have been difficult for some of the neighbors,

including my mother, to keep house. Malachi repaired the leaks in the

roof, eased the doors, mended the chairs and kept the house generally

in running order. Uncle Eben did the chores, fed and scratched the

pig, sawed, split and piled the wood and wheeled our corn to the

mill, taking care that Sylvanus Maxim, the miller, did not take out

too much toll. In those days, every family bought or raised its

own corn and sent it to the mill to be ground. When the steamboat

arrived, if one happened to be running, Eben was always on the wharf

with his handcart ready to take the luggage of passengers to their

homes. I can see the old man now scraping with his jackknife the

apples I occasionally gave him, which, with his loss of teeth, he

could neither bite nor chew. He died January 6, 1851, at the age of

77 years.

But chief of “the blessed three” was Aunt Debby. She assisted in

making soap and candles, would nurse the sick, diagnose the various

diseases of children, such as measles, by their smell, administer

picra and “yarb” tea, staunch the blood of a cut finger with cobwebs

and with the buds of the balsam poplar, or balm of Gilead, heal

the wound. She was the forerunner, too, of those who with no more

accuracy than she exhibited, foretell the number of a winter’s snow

storms. In my college vacation my first visit was always to her, and

at Thanksgiving time it was often my privilege to bear a turkey and a

couple of pies to her scanty board. She died April 15, 1844, at the

age of 72. Peace to her ashes.

The easterly part of the house was occupied by William Collingwood,

a worthy and intelligent Englishman, the father of our respected

townsmen, George and James Bartlett Collingwood. He had been a

manufacturer of pottery in Sunderland, in the shire of Durham, but

owing to reverses he was induced to come to America, and took passage

in 1819 with Capt. Plasket of Nantucket, bringing with him his wife

Eleanor (Harrow) Collingwood and two sons, George and William, one

year old. He settled in Nantucket, the home of Capt. Plasket, where

he remained until 1825, when James Bartlett, who, with others, owned

two ships in the whale fishery, induced him to come to Plymouth and

take charge of the oil and candle works then recently established,

which were situated between the house of the late Jesse R. Atwood

and the shore. As long as the works remained in operation he was

at their head, and afterwards for a time kept a restaurant at the

corner of North and Water streets. He died in Plymouth in 1866,

at the age of 76, and his wife died in 1884, at the age of 90.

Three of Mr. Collingwood’s sons died in the civil war. Joseph W.,

born in Nantucket January 5, 1822, was captain in Company H, 18th

Massachusetts regiment, and died in a field hospital December 24,

1862, of wounds received at the battle of Fredericksburg on the 13th

of that month. John B., born December 30, 1825, was adjutant of

the 29th Massachusetts regiment and died in St. John’s Hospital in

Cincinnati, August 21, 1863. Thomas, born November 10, 1831, was a

corporal in Company E, 29th Massachusetts regiment, and died at Camp

Banks, Crab Orchard, Ky., August 31, 1863.

In 1843 Mrs. Collingwood was summoned to England to secure by

identification an inheritance of property. She had then reached

middle life, but, nevertheless, without a companion or attendant, she

sailed on the 1st of July in the above year in the Cunard steamer

Columbia, from Boston for Halifax and Liverpool. The Columbia, like

all the earliest boats of the Cunard line, was a paddle wheel boat

of about 1,200 tons. I know very well what those boats were, for I

made a passage in the Hibernia of the same line in March, 1847, and

I often wonder that in such small crafts, with one wheel buried in

every roll of the sea, passengers were willing to expose themselves

to the hazards of a winter passage. On Sunday, the second day out,

when 240 miles from Boston, while still in charge of the pilot who,

in accordance with the custom prevailing while the steamers called

at Halifax, remained on board, the Columbia, in a thick fog, having

been carried out of her course by an unusual Bay of Fundy current,

struck a sloping rock on Black Ledge about a mile and a quarter from

Seal Island, and 25 miles from Barrington, Nova Scotia, the nearest

port on the mainland. Fortunately the sea was smooth and when the

fog lifted a fishing schooner nearby came to the ship and with the

boats of the steamer transferred to the island the passengers, 95 in

number, including those in the steerage, and 73 officers and men,

with luggage and the mails. The cargo was eventually saved, but

the ship was a total loss. While on the island a sort of colonial

government was established with Mr. Abbot Lawrence of Boston, one

of the passengers at its head, to prevent excesses and possible

disturbance, and a passing vessel was sent to Halifax with news of

the wreck. In due time the steamer Margaret took them to that port,

most of the passengers and crew continuing their passage in her to

Liverpool. For the kindness and attention shown to Mrs. Collingwood

by Mr. Lawrence she was always grateful. The valet of Mr. Lawrence

was James Burr, a colored boy from Plymouth, who often with pride

recounted to me the story of his adventure.

It is a little singular that our townsman, Robert Swinburn, recently

deceased at an advanced age, came to Plymouth when a young man from

Sunderland, the town in which Mr. Collingwood lived, and where he

also was engaged in the employment of a potter, and should twenty

years later than the voyage of Mrs. Collingwood have been also

summoned to England for the purpose of obtaining an inheritance.

A circumstance connected with the loss of the Columbia, which

reminds us of the changes which have occurred in the facilities of

communication, is the fact that the news of the wreck, which occurred

on Sunday, the 2d of July, did not reach Boston until Sunday, the 9th.

I have given the loss of the Columbia a prominence in these memories

because it was the only loss which the Cunard company has suffered

during its career of 64 years, except that of the Oregon, a steamer

sold to the company by another line after a collision and a transfer

of her passengers to another vessel, which foundered near Fire

Island. Two other ocean steamers had been previously lost, the

President, with all on board, in 1841, and the West India packet

steamer Solway, off Corunna, in April, 1843, with her captain and

fifty lives.

Returning from this digression to North street, from which I have

wandered long and far, I wish to correct a statement, based on

misinformation, made by me in “Ancient Landmarks of Plymouth,”

that the Willoughby house, built by Edward Winslow in 1755, was

confiscated. Mr. Winslow held the office of collector of the port

of Plymouth, registrar of wills and clerk of the superior court

of common pleas, and the salaries from these offices, though he

was not a rich man, enabled him to live in luxury and ease. He was

generous to the poor and lavish in his entertainment of families in

the aristocratic circles. He was a loyalist of the most pronounced

type, and consequently lost his offices at the breaking out of the

revolution. As nearly as I can learn from family records he remained

in Plymouth several years, evidently assisted by friends, some of

whom in a quiet way shared his loyalty to the king. In December,

1781, he reached the British garrison in New York with a part of

his family, the remainder joining him at a later period. Sir Henry

Clinton allowed him a pension of £200 per annum, with rations and

fuel. On the 30th of August, 1783, he embarked with his wife, two

daughters and three colored servants from New York and arrived at

Halifax on the 14th of September. He died in Halifax the next year,

70 years of age. The house in question was taken on execution by his

creditors, consisting of the town of Plymouth, Thomas Davis, William

Thomas, Oakes Angier and John Rowe, and in 1782, 1789, 1790 and

1791 it was sold by the above parties to Thomas Jackson. In 1813 it

passed under an execution from Thomas Jackson to his cousin, Charles

Jackson, the father of the late Dr. Charles T. Jackson and Mrs. Ralph

Waldo Emerson.

Edward Winslow, son of the above, graduated in Harvard in 1765, and

at the time of the revolution was naval officer of the port of

Plymouth and held the offices of clerk of the court and register of

probate jointly with his father. He joined the British army in Boston

and went with Lord Percy on his disastrous expedition to Lexington

and Concord, and was later appointed by Gen. Gage collector of

Boston and register of probate for Suffolk county. At the evacuation

of Boston, March 17, 1776, he went with the army to Halifax, where

he was made by Sir William Howe secretary of the board of general

officers, of which Lord Percy was president, for the distribution

of donations to the troops. He afterwards went to New York and was

appointed muster master general of the forces, and acted in that

capacity during the war. In 1779 he was chosen by refugees in Rhode

Island to command them, and served during two campaigns. After the

war he was military secretary until the death of his father, and in

1785 went to New Brunswick, where he held the positions of king’s

counsellor and paymaster of contingencies, and died in 1815.

In the Winslow house above referred to Ralph Waldo Emerson married,

August 22, 1835, Lydia Jackson, daughter of Charles and Lucy (Cotton)

Jackson. I have a distinct recollection of the first time I ever saw

Mr. Emerson, and I have no doubt that it was the first time he ever

visited Plymouth. It was, I feel sure, in 1833, soon after he left

the pulpit of the Second Unitarian church in Boston and after he had

begun his career as a lecturer. It is said that his first lecture was

delivered before the Boston Mechanics Institute on the very practical

subject of “Water.” At the time referred to he lectured in Pilgrim

Hall on Socrates, and was the guest of Nathaniel Russell, whose

daughter, Mary Howland Russell, born in 1803, was an intimate friend

of Lydia Jackson, born in 1802. I believe that I am justified in

assuming that on that visit he first saw his future wife. I remember

well his appearance and manners on the lecture platform, and as a

boy of eleven years I thought him oracular and dull. In the same

year the wandering piper with his kilt and bagpipe appeared also in

Pilgrim Hall, and Potter, the ventriloquist, entertained audiences by

swallowing swords, and I am almost afraid to say that the exhibitions

gave me more pleasure than the lecture. But my eyes had not at that

early age been opened. Dr. Holmes once asked an English gentleman

to whom he had just been introduced, how he liked America, and on

receiving the reply that he had been in the country only nine days,

told him that a pup required only nine days to open its eyes. But the

doctor never hesitated to sacrifice courtesy for the sake of a joke,

as the following story will further show: Hearing one evening at a

party the name of a gentleman present, whom he had never seen before,

he asked him if he were a relative of an apothecary of that name,

and on receiving the answer that he was his son, he told him that he

thought he recognized in his face the “liniments” of his father. But

to return to Mr. Emerson, my eyes have been opened.

In concluding the changes which have occurred in North street within

my recollection, it only remains to be said that the Manter building

on the corner of Water street was removed in 1859 from Pilgrim wharf,

and stands on land formerly occupied by a tenement house, and by a

small one-story building occupied by Thomas Maglathlen.

Water street, including its extension, was laid out by various acts

of the town, as follows: On the 16th of February, 1715, in 1762, on

the 4th of April, 1881, the 9th of December, 1893, and the 22d of

June, 1895. The changes on the extension of the street, caused by the

erection of the woolen mill of Mr. Mabbett, the utilization of the

old Jackson lumber yard by Mr. Craig and the erection of the Brockton

and Plymouth trolley electric plant, have been so recent that no

reference to them is necessary. With the exception of the foundry,

which was built to take the place of the foundry burned in 1856, and

the electric light building on the corner of Leyden street, no new

structure has changed in my day the general character of the street.

In my youth, and later, there were eight buildings on the westerly

side of the street between North street and the steps at the foot of

Middle street. In the rear of these houses there were two terraces

supported by stone walls, and some of the houses were entered by

flights of steps leading down from the top of the hill. In 1856, and

in the years immediately succeeding, the Pilgrim Society bought all

these estates, and after the removal of the houses graded the slope

as it is seen today. The granite steps from the surface of the hill

to the canopy over the Rock was built by private subscription. The

graded bank is the property of the Pilgrim Society, and the surface

of the hill, which belongs to the town, was placed by a vote of the

town under the superintendence and care of the society.

Until recently there were also eight buildings between the way

leading to the Middle street steps and the grass bank on Leyden

street. By the will of J. Henry Stickney of Baltimore, who died May

3, 1893, the sum of $21,000 was given to a board of trustees for the

purpose of buying and removing these houses and grading the bank.

The board of trustees consists of the chairman of the selectmen, the

presidents of the two national banks, the president and secretary

of the Pilgrim Society, the president of the Plymouth Savings Bank,

and the judge of probate and treasurer of Plymouth county, and their

successors in said offices. All the estates have been bought except

that owned by Winslow Brewster Standish, and the grading as far as

practicable has been done.

The only remaining change in the street to be referred to is that

associated with Pilgrim wharf and the Rock. Until 1859 the wharf was

devoted to commercial uses. In that year the upper part of the wharf

came into the possession of the Pilgrim Society, and the building

which had stood on the northerly corner of the wharf was moved to

the corner of Water and North streets, and eventually came into the

possession of Mr. Manter, its present occupant.

Two buildings on the south side, between the wharf and the store

of Mr. Atwood, were also bought by the society and removed. That

on the corner had for many years been occupied in its lower story

by a cooper shop and in its upper story by the sail loft of Daniel

Goddard, and the other had been occupied as a store successively

by Richard Holmes, Holmes & Scudder, Holmes & Brewster and John

Churchill.

In 1883 the Pilgrim Society bought the entire wharf, and after

removing the store houses standing on it fitted it for a steamboat

landing exclusively. The corner stone of the canopy over the Rock was

laid on the 2d of August, 1859, and the structure was completed in

1867. It was designed by Hammatt Billings, but follows very closely

the plan of the Arch of Trajan built on one of the moles of the

harbor of Ancona on the shores of the Adriatic. The use of scallop

shells on its top was suggested by the fact that this shell was the

emblem worn by the Pilgrims on their way to the Holy Land. The word

Pilgrim, as applied to the Plymouth colonists, was never used, as

far as I can learn, for more than a hundred and seventy years after

the landing. They were called “first-comers” and “forefathers” until

1794, when Judge John Davis, in his ode written for the anniversary

celebration in that year first used the word “Pilgrim” in the

following verse:

“Columbia, child of heaven,

The best of blessings given,

Be thine to greet;

Hailing this votive day,

Looking with fond survey,

Upon the weary way,

Of Pilgrim feet.”

The next use of the word was made by Samuel Davis in a hymn written

by him for the celebration in 1799, the first verse of which is as

follows:

“Hail Pilgrim fathers of our race!

With grateful hearts your toils we trace.

Again this votive day returns

And finds us bending o’er your urns.”

The word was undoubtedly suggested to Judge Davis by a casual remark

of Governor Bradford in his history of Plymouth Plantation expressing

the regret of the colonists at leaving Leyden, as follows: “But they

knew they were Pilgrims, and looked not much on those things but

lifted up their eyes to the heavens, their dearest country, and so

quieted their spirits.” The first use of the scallop shell associated

with the Plymouth Pilgrims was at the anniversary celebration in

1820, when at the ball in the evening some young ladies hung a shell

suitably decorated on the breast of Mr. Webster, the orator of

the day. It simply expresses the sentiment that man is a wayfarer

travelling toward another and a better world. I have seen it

somewhere stated that it was worn by the Pilgrims returning from the

Holy Land, and if such is the case as the scallop is abundant on the

shores of the Mediterranean, it may have been adopted to attest their

pilgrimage. In the chamber of the canopy are deposited four skeletons

of Pilgrims buried in the winter of 1620-1 on Cole’s Hill, which

were discovered in 1854 by workmen digging a trench for laying water

pipes in Carver street, a little south of the foot of Middle street.

Before concluding what I have to say concerning Water street with

its business, its stores and their occupants, I wish to refer more

particularly to Plymouth Rock and its history, to supply necessary

links in the chain of my narrative. Its first public recognition as

the landing place of the Pilgrims occurred in 1742, after a grant had

been made to individuals by the town of a strip of land extending

from the top of Cole’s Hill to low water mark, for the purpose of

building a wharf. Thomas Faunce, the third elder of the Plymouth

church, born in 1647, was ten years old when Governor Bradford

died in 1657, twenty-six years old when John Howland died in 1673,

thirty-three years old when George Soule died in 1680, and forty

years old when John Alden died in 1687, all of whom were Mayflower’s

passengers. Hearing of the proposed wharf, and believing that the

Rock would be buried from sight, he gathered on the spot his children

and grandchildren and told them the story of the landing, which he

had received from the Pilgrims themselves. Dr. James Thacher was told

of this incident by witnesses of the scene, and through the channel

of his history of Plymouth, the authenticity of the Rock has become a

matter of historic record.

The second recognition of the Rock as the place of the landing,

occurred in 1774, when the inhabitants of Plymouth under the lead of

Col. Theopilus Cotton assembled about it with about twenty yoke of

oxen, with the view of removing it to Liberty Pole square, as they

called Town square, and consecrating it to the shrine of liberty. In

attempting to raise it it separated into two parts, one of which was

permitted to remain and the other was carried to its destination.

There it remained until 1834, resting against the lower elm tree on

the southerly side of the square. In that year the fourth of July

was celebrated by its removal to the front yard of Pilgrim hall. A

procession, of which Capt. Samuel Doten was marshal, preceded by

the school children of the town, escorted a decorated truck bearing

the Rock, then weighing 6,997 pounds, which was followed by a model

of the Mayflower mounted on a car and drawn by six boys, of whom I

was one. The Plymouth Band and the Standish Guards performed escort

duty, and on reaching Pilgrim hall an address was delivered by Dr.

Chas. Cotton, and a prayer was made by Rev. Dr. James Kendall. The

ceremonies of the day closed with a dinner served in the basement

of the hall by Danville Bryant, proprietor of the Pilgrim House, at

which Hon. Nathaniel M. Davis presided, assisted by Hon. Isaac L.

Hedge, Abraham Jackson, John Bartlett 3d, Nathaniel Wood and Eliab

Ward as vice presidents. In June of the next year the Rock, in its

new place, was inclosed by an iron fence designed by George W.

Brimmer of Boston, the designer of the Gothic meeting house of the

Unitarian parish, and so remained until 1880, when it was removed

without display and placed within the canopy on that part of the Rock

from which it was separated one hundred and six years before. The

iron fence has since that time served to inclose a granite memorial

in front of Pilgrim Hall bearing on its face the text of the Pilgrim

compact.

As far back as I can recall, in 1832, Water street retained much

of the business aspect, which had characterized it for about

seventy-five years. The whaling and fishing industries were active

and prosperous and Boston had not yet drawn away from Plymouth

any considerable portion of its foreign trade. Molasses and sugar

from the West India Islands, salt from Turks Island and Cadiz,

and iron from Gothenberg, continued to come in, the last free of

that burdensome duty, which has destroyed the iron industries of

the old colony. I can hear today the rattling of the bars which

Stephen Thomas and others carted through our streets to the various

manufactories established in Plymouth, Carver, Wareham, Plympton and

Kingston. I can count within my memory twenty-six establishments

engaged in the manufacture of iron in Plymouth county, while with

only two or three exceptions the few now at work are in a languishing

condition. I have letters in my possession written in Plymouth,

opposing the imposition of high duties, and predicting as a result of

their operation the very conditions which now exist.

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