MANNERS AND CUSTOMS
When the first considerable emigration ceased about the year
1640, of the 25,000 settlers then living in the Colony, probably
ninety-five per cent were small farmers or workmen engaged in the
manual trades, together with many indentured servants who had come
over under the terms of a contract whereby they were bonded to
serve their masters for a term of years--usually five or seven. The
remaining five per cent of the population was composed of those
governing the colony--the stockholders in the Company, so to speak;
ministers enough to supply the spiritual needs of each town and
settlement, however small; a few of social position and comparative
wealth; one lawyer; and a sprinkling of shopkeepers and small
merchants living in the seaport towns. Here and there a physician
or chirurgeon might be found, but the physical welfare of the
smaller towns was usually cared for by some ancient housewife with
a knowledge of herbs and simples. Sometimes it was the minister who
practiced two professions and cared for the bodies as well as the
souls of his congregation.
The founders of the colony in the Massachusetts Bay, and most of
those who immediately followed them, were men who did not conform to
the ritual and government of the Established Church in England. They
were followers of John Calvin whose Geneva Bible was widely read
in England and whose teachings had profoundly influenced English
thought and manners. Calvin taught a great simplicity of life and
a personal application of the teachings found in the Bible. In the
Commonwealth that he set up in Geneva, the daily life and actions
of its citizens were as closely guarded as if in a nursery for
children. All frivolous amusements were forbidden; a curfew was
established; and all were constrained to save souls and to labor for
material development. There was a minute supervision of dress and
personal conduct, and a literal construction of Bible mandates was
carried so far that children were actually put to death for striking
their parents.
Calvin's theology was based on the belief that all men were born
sinners and since Adam's fall, by the will of God, predestined
from birth to hell and everlasting torment, unless, happily, one
of the elect and so foreordained to be saved. In this belief the
Puritans found life endurable because they considered themselves of
the elect; and in cases of doubt, the individual found comfortable
assurance in the belief that although certain of his neighbors were
going to hell _he_ was one of the elect. It naturally followed that
the imagination of the Puritans was concentrated on questions of
religion.
The teachings of Calvin spread rapidly in England and among his
followers there came about an austerity of religious life and a
great simplicity in dress and manners.
It is true that most of the settlers of Massachusetts were poor in
purse and with many of them mere existence was a struggle for a long
time. But the growth of wealth in the Colony, although it brought
with it more luxury in living and better dwellings, did not add much
to the refinement of the people. It was the influence and example
of the royal governors and a more frequent commercial intercourse
with England and the Continental peoples that brought about a desire
for a richer dress and an introduction of some of the refinements
of life. This by no means met the approval of the Puritan ministers
who frequently inveighed against "Professors of Religion who fashion
themselves according to the World." The Rev. Cotton Mather, the
leading minister in Boston and the industrious author of over
four hundred published sermons and similar works, again and again
exhorted against stage plays and infamous games of cards and dice.
"It is a matter of Lamentation that even such things as these should
be heard of in New England," he exclaimed. "And others spend their
time in reading vain Romances," he continued. "It is meer loss of
time."
With such a background and burdened with such a far-reaching
antagonism toward the finer things of life, that help to lighten the
burden of existence and beautify the way, it is small wonder that
the esthetics found little fertile soil in New England; and much of
this prejudice and state of mind lingered among the old families in
the more remote and orthodox communities, until recent times.
The New England Puritans only allowed themselves one full holiday
in the course of the year and that was Thanksgiving Day, a time
for feasting. To be sure, there was Fast Day, in the spring,
which gave freedom from work; but that was a day for a sermon
at the meetinghouse, for long faces and a supposed bit of self
denial--somewhere. The celebration of Christmas was not observed
by the true New England Puritan until the middle of the nineteenth
century.
A number of sermons preached by Rev. Samuel Moodey, an eccentric
minister at York, Maine, for nearly half a century, were printed
and among them: "The Doleful State of the Damned, especially such
as go to hell from under the Gospel." This sermon was followed by
its antidote, entitled: "The Gospel Way of Escaping the Doleful
State of the Damned." Another of his sermons was upon "Judas the
Traitor, Hung up in Chains." Parson Moodey's son, Joseph, followed
him in the pulpit at York. He was known as "Handkerchief Moodey,"
as he fell into a melancholy; thought he had sinned greatly; and
after a time wore a handkerchief over his face whenever he appeared
in public. In the pulpit he would turn his back to the congregation
and read the sermon, but whenever he faced his people it would
be with handkerchief-covered features. Think what must have been
the influence of two such men on the life and opinions of a town
covering a period of two generations!
During the late seventeenth century and well into the eighteenth,
the books usually found in the average New England family were
the Bible, the Psalm Book, an almanac, the New England Primer, a
sermon or two and perhaps a copy of Michael Wigglesworth's terrific
poem--"The Day of Doom." The latter was first printed in 1662 in
an edition of 1800 copies not one of which has survived. Every
copy was read and re-read until nothing remained but fragments of
leaves. Seven editions of this poem were printed between 1662 and
1715 and few copies of any edition now exist. The book expressed
the quintesscence of Calvinism. Here is stanza 205, expressing the
terror of those doomed to hell:
"They wring their hands, their caitiff-hands,
and gnash their teeth for terrour:
They cry, they roar, for anguish sore
and gnaw their tongues for horrour.
But get away without delay,
Christ pities not your cry:
Depart to Hell, there may you yell,
and roar Eternally."
Pastor Higginson of Salem wrote enthusiastically of the natural
abundance of the grass that "groweth verie wildly with a great
stalke" as high as a man's face and as for Indian corn--the planting
of thirteen gallons of seed had produced an increase of fifty-two
hogsheads or three hundred and fifty bushels, London measure, to be
sold or trusted to the Indians in exchange for beaver worth above
£300. Who would not share the hardships and dangers of the frontier
colony for opportunity of such rich gain?
But the housewives in the far-away English homes were more
interested in the growth of the vegetable gardens in the virgin
soil, and of these he wrote: "Our turnips, parsnips and carrots
are here both bigger and sweeter than is ordinary to be found in
England. Here are stores of pumpions, cucumbers, and other things
of that nature I know not. Plentie of strawberries in their time,
and pennyroyall, winter saverie, carvell and water-cresses, also
leeks and onions are ordinary." Great lobsters abounded weighing
from sixteen to twenty-five pounds and much store of bass, herring,
sturgeon, haddock, eels, and oysters. In the forests were several
kinds of deer; also partridges, turkeys, and great flocks of
pigeons, with wild geese, ducks, and other sea fowl in such
abundance "that a great part of the Planters have eaten nothing but
roast-meate of divers Fowles which they have killed."
These were some of the attractive natural features of the new colony
in the Massachusetts Bay, as recounted by the Salem minister. Of
the hardships he makes small mention, for his aim was to induce
emigration. There was much sickness, however, and many deaths.
Higginson himself lived only a year after reaching Salem. The
breaking up of virgin soil always brings on malaria and fever.
Dudley wrote "that there is not an house where there is not one
dead, and in some houses many. The naturall causes seem to bee in
the want of warm lodgings, and good dyet to which Englishmen are
habittuated, at home; and in the suddain increase of heate which
they endure that are landed here in somer ... those of Plymouth who
landed in winter dyed of the Scirvy, as did our poorer sort whose
howses and bedding kept them not sufficiently warm, nor their dyet
sufficient in heart." Thomas Dudley wrote this in March, 1631. He
explained that he was writing upon his knee by the fireside in the
living-room, having as yet no table nor other room in which to write
during the sharp winter. In this room his family must resort "though
they break good manners, and make mee many times forget what I would
say, and say what I would not."
But these hardships and inconveniences of living which the New
England colonists met and overcame differ but little from those
experienced in every new settlement. They have been paralleled
again and again wherever Englishmen or Americans have wandered.
In a few years after the coming of the ships much of the
rawness and discomfort must have disappeared, certainly in the
early settlements, and comparative comfort must have existed
in most homes. If we could now lift the roof of the average
seventeenth-century house in New England it is certain that we
should find disclosed not only comfortable conditions of living but
in many instances a degree of luxury with fine furnishings that is
appreciated by few at the present time.
Of the early days following the settlement Roger Clap, who lived at
Dorchester, afterwards wrote as follows:
"It was not accounted a strange thing in those days to drink water,
and to eat Samp or Homine without Butter or Milk. Indeed it would
have been a strang thing to see a piece of Roast Beef, Mutton or
Veal; though it was not long before there was Roast Goat. After the
first Winter, we were very Healthy: though some of us had no great
Store of Corn. The Indians did sometimes bring Corn, and Trade with
us for Clothing and Knives; and once I had a Peck of Corn, or there
abouts, for a little Puppy-Dog. Frostfish, Muscles and Clams were a
Relief to Many."
When Governor Winthrop landed at Salem in June, 1630, he supped on
a good venison pasty and good beer, while most of those who came
with him went ashore on Cape Anne side (now Beverly) and gathered
strawberries. That was a fine beginning, but when winter set in many
of them were "forced to cut their bread thin for a long season"
and then it was that they fully realized that "the Ditch betweene
England and their now place of abode was so wide.... Those that were
sent over servants, having itching desires for novelties, found a
reddier way to make an end of their Master's provision, then they
could finde means to get more; They that came over their own men
had but little left to feed on, and most began to repent when their
strong Beere and full cups ran as small as water in a large Land....
They made shift [however] to rub out the Winter's cold by the
Fireside, having fuell enough growing at their very doores, turning
down many a drop from the Bottell, and burning Tobacco with all the
ease they could."[38]
[38] Edward Johnson, _Wonder Working Providence_, London, 1654.
Lacking bread they lived on fish, mussels and clams. The rivers
supplied bass, shad, alewives, frost fish and smelts in their
season, also salmon, and corn meal could be bartered for with the
Indians and shortly raised from seed.
"Let no man make a jest at Pumpkins, for with this fruit the Lord
was pleased to feed his people to their good content, till Corne
and Cattell were increased," wrote Johnson. Later (by 1650) the
goodwives served "apples, pears and quince tarts instead of their
former Pumpkin Pies," and by that time wheat bread was no dainty.
Society in the Massachusetts Bay in the seventeenth century
was divided into several groups. First came the merchant class
which also included the ministers and those possessed of wealth.
Edward Randolph reported to the Lords of Trade in 1676, that in
Massachusetts there were about thirty merchants worth from £10,000.
to £20,000. "Most have considerable estates and a very great
trade." Next came the freemen and the skilled mechanics. This class
furnished the town officials and constituted the backbone of the
colony. Then came the unskilled laborer and a step lower was the
indentured servant. The merchant lived well and wore fine clothing
forbidden to his more humble neighbors. The status of the servant
may well be shown by the deposition presented in Court at Salem
in 1657 by an apprentice to a stone-mason in the town of Newbury,
Massachusetts, who testified that it was a long while before "he
could eate his master's food, viz. meate and milk, or drink beer,
saying that he did not know that it was good, because he was not
used to eat such victualls, but to eate bread and water porridge and
to drink water."[39]
[39] _Essex County Quarterly Court Records_, Vol. II, p. 28.
It has been stated frequently that in the olden times in New
England every one was obliged to go to church. The size of the
meetinghouses, the isolated locations of many of the houses, the
necessary care of the numerous young children, and the interesting
side-lights on the manners of the time which may be found in the
court papers, all go to show that the statement must not be taken
literally. Absence from meeting, breaking the Sabbath, carrying a
burden on the Lord's Day, condemning the church, condemning the
ministry, scandalous falling out on the Lord's Day, slandering the
church, and other misdemeanors of a similar character were frequent.
Drunkenness was very common in the old days. "We observed it a
common fault in our young people that they gave themselves to drink
hot waters immoderately," wrote Edward Johnson. Every family kept
on hand a supply of liquor and wine, and cider was considered a
necessity of daily living in the country, where it was served with
each meal and also carried into the fields by the workers. It was
stored in barrels in the cellar and the task of drawing the cider
and putting on the table usually fell to the younger members of the
family. A man would often provide in his will for the comfort of
his loving wife by setting aside for occupancy during her life, one
half of his house, with a carefully specified number of bushels of
rye, potatoes, turnips and other vegetables; the use of a horse with
which to ride to meeting or elsewhere; and lastly, the direction
that annually she be provided with a certain number of barrels of
cider--sometimes as many as eight.
Rev. Edward Holyoke, the President of Harvard College, was in the
habit of laying in each year thirty or more barrels of cider as he
had to provide for much entertaining. Late in the winter he would
draw off part of his stock and into each barrel he would pour a
bottle of spirit and a month later some of this blend would be
bottled for use on special occasions.
What was their conduct not only in their homes but in their
relations with their neighbors? Did they live peaceably and work
together in building up the settlements? Did they set up in the
wilderness domestic relations exactly like those they had abandoned
overseas? It was a raw frontier country to which they came and it is
apparent that at the outset they felt themselves to be transplanted
Englishmen. So far as possible they lived the lives to which they
had been accustomed and they engrafted in their new homes the
manners and customs of the generations behind them. Most of them
fully recognized, however, that they were not to return; that they
had cut loose from the old home ties and it was not long before
the necessities and limitations of frontier life brought about
changed conditions in every direction. Politically, religiously
and socially, they were in a different relation than formerly in
the English parish life. Many of them, especially those somewhat
removed from the immediate supervision of magistrate and minister,
before long seem to have shown a tendency to follow the natural
bent of the frontiersman toward independent thought and action.
Their political leaders made laws restricting daily life and action
and their religious leaders laid down rules for belief and conduct,
that soon were repellent to many. Civil and clerical records are
filled with instances showing an evasion of and even contempt for
the laws and rules laid down by the leaders of their own choosing.
Some of it doubtless was in the blood of the men who had come in
search of a certain individual freedom of action, but much of it may
be attributed to frontier conditions and primitive living. There
were many indentured servants, and rough fishermen and sailors have
always been unruly. Simple houses of but few rooms accommodating
large families are not conducive to gentle speech or modesty of
manner nor to a strict morality. The craving for landholding and
the poorly defined and easily removed bounds naturally led to ill
feeling, assault, defamation, and slander.