to meeting, and it seems to me a most comfortable arrangement; but
mother says that if our love of God be not strong enough to prevent
discomfort simply because of the frost, when such a man as Master
Wilson, or either of the preachers, or Governor Winthrop, is pleased
to deliver a sermon, then are we utterly lost.
[Illustration]
Susan declares that she _was_ lost the first winter we came here, when
her cheeks were frost-bitten during one of Master Winthrop's lectures,
which took no more than two hours in the speaking.
These foot-stoves, which I wish most fervently my father would believe
we might be permitted to use, are square boxes made of iron, pierced
with many tiny holes, and having a handle by which they can be
carried. One of these, filled with live coals, will keep warm a very
long time, especially if it be covered with skins, and I envy Mistress
Winthrop and her daughter, even while knowing how great is the sin,
when they sit in the Governor's pew so comfortably warm that there is
no fear their teeth will, by chattering, cause unseemly disturbance.
A TROUBLESOME PERSON
There are certain matters concerning which I was minded not to speak,
because of their causing both Susan and me very much of sadness at the
time, and it has seemed as if I had set down little else except
trouble and suffering, whereas there was very much of the time when we
of Boston enjoyed our life in the New World.
That some will not live as God would have them, we know only too well,
and we found one such among us during the second year after our
village was built. Thomas Morton was the person who gave the officers
of Boston no little trouble, and in order to tell understandingly the
story of what he did, I must go back to that time, two years before we
landed here, when the people of Plymouth had cause to complain against
this same man.
From what I have heard father say, he had been a lawyer in the city of
London, and came over to Plymouth hoping to better his fortunes; but
because of not being a God-fearing man, the religious spirit of the
colonies was little to his liking.
THE VILLAGE OF MERRY MOUNT
Within five or six miles of where stands our village, had been, a few
years before, a settlement which one Captain Wollaston began, and,
tiring of the enterprise, went back to England, leaving there some few
of his followers, who were ungodly people.
This Thomas Morton, believing himself held in too close restraint at
Plymouth, sought out these people at Wollaston, and became one of
them, to the shame and reproach of all godly-minded people in this New
World. He changed the name of the village to Merry Mount; was chosen
leader of the company there, and made of the place a perfect Sodom.
It is said, so I have heard my father say, that they had no religious
services, save now and then, when in a spirit of wickedness this
Thomas Morton read from the prayer book. He increased the number of
his following by enticing the servants away from the good folks of
Plymouth.
It gave much offence to them that such a village should be in the land
where they had come to set up the true worship of God, therefore
Captain Miles Standish, a soldier of Plymouth, went with a force of
men to Merry Mount, seized this Thomas Morton, and sent him to England
that he might answer for his crimes to the London Company.
[Illustration]
PUNISHING THOMAS MORTON
What happened there my father does not know; but certain it is that
when the _Lyon_ came on her second voyage, she brought among her
passengers this same Thomas Morton, and from the moment he arrived
our people had trouble with him.
He brought considerable property in the way of firearms, powder and
shot, and, without asking permission from the chief men of our town,
set about trading these goods with the Indians for furs, as he had
done at Merry Mount, which was not only a menace to all the white
people in this new country, because of furnishing the savages with
arms that might be used to kill us, but directly against the law which
forbade trafficking with the Indians.
He must have been a wicked man indeed, for, not content with doing
that which our people had forbidden, he cheated the savages by selling
them black sand for powder, and demanding more of furs than was fair
and just for such goods as he gave them.
Of course one may think that his crime against us was lessened when he
weighed out worthless sand, instead of powder that might be used to
our harm; but the chief men of Boston claimed that the savages must be
dealt with fairly, otherwise would they look upon us, who were willing
to trade honestly, as rogues and thieves.
Therefore it was that our people seized this Thomas Morton, gave him
fair trial before the court, and sentenced him to four and twenty
hours in the bilboes, after which he was again to be sent as prisoner
to England.
It may be that some do not know what bilboes are, and I can explain
because of having seen them while they were on Thomas Morton.
A bilboe is a long bar of iron, on which are two heavy clamps, in
shape not unlike bracelets which ladies of quality wear upon their
arms, fastened by a ring to the bar in such manner that they may slide
back and forth. These clamps, or clasps, are placed upon the
prisoner's ankles, and pushed apart until his legs are stretched wide.
His hands are tied behind his back, and he is forced to sit upon the
ground, unable to give relief to his aching limbs, because of the
bar's being too weighty for him to move it.
[Illustration]
All of Thomas Morton's goods were seized to pay the charges of the
trial, and also to make good to the Indians what they had lost through
his knavishness. The house which he had built, and it was a fair one
made of heavy logs, was burned in the presence of the prisoner and the
court, as a sign that we of Boston would not countenance dishonest
tricks, even when they were played upon the savages.
PHILIP RATCLIFF'S CRIME
The punishment of Thomas Morton saddened Susan and myself sorely; but
not so much as when one Philip Ratcliff was punished.
He was such a wicked man that he went around the town saying he
believed the devil was at the head of our church, and in every way
casting reproach upon religion, despite the fact of his having been
warned again and again that unless he put a bridle to his tongue,
punishment would speedily follow.
He did not give heed to the warning, however, and after a time, which
was during the third summer of our being in this land, he was brought
before the court as one who had cast reproach upon God. For this he
was sentenced to be whipped, to have his ears cut off, to be fined
forty shillings, and afterward to be banished to England.
Because of this man's being so very, very wicked, Susan and I believed
we should go to see him whipped, and gathered with the people at the
pillory, where he stood with his neck and arms clutched by the heavy
bars of wood; but when Samuel Morgan made ready the heavy whip, just
as the man's back was bared to receive the lashes, we turned away in
horror, not daring to look.
Father said, when he came home in the evening, that Ratcliff bore the
whipping and the ear-cutting without a cry; but when it was over, he
threatened vengeance against us, after he should be set free in
England, and later we came to know what he meant by such threats.
[Illustration]
He went everywhere about in the old country, telling that the New
World was a hideous wilderness in which roamed the wildest savages
thirsting for the blood of white people; that the land was rocky and
barren, and not fit for farms, for no crops could be raised upon it;
that the weather was cold, and that the climate caused deathly
sickness.
All this, father said, worked to our harm among those godly people who
were inclined to join us, for they feared to come into such a place,
not understanding that these things were lies which had been told out
of a spirit of revenge.
IN THE PILLORY
Another wicked person who had come to Boston was Henry Linn, who was
no sooner living among us than he wrote letters to England by every
vessel, full of slander against the churches, and of those who took
part in the government.
He was forced to stand in the pillory from sunrise to sunset, and was
then sent back to England with the warning that if he ever returned,
worse punishment would follow.
It has come to my mind that possibly some who read these words may not
have seen a pillory, for I am told that there are places in this world
where the people so fear God and love their neighbors that there is no
need they be punished, therefore will I set down as best I may, a
description of that instrument of shame that stands near to where
lives Master Wilson.
First a platform of logs is made of such height that he who stands
upon it can be seen of all the people, and from the center of this
rises a stout log to the height of four feet or more. On the top of
the upright timber, and fastened immovable, is a puncheon plank on the
upper edge of which are cut three grooves, the middle one large enough
to contain a man's neck and the other two his wrists. Now a second
plank is fashioned to fit down over the first one, with other grooves
in it to match.
Whosoever must be punished is forced to stand upon this platform with
his head and arms fastened securely in the holes of the planks,
exposed to the view of all the people during so long a time as the
sentence demands.
In addition to being a most shameful punishment, it must be exceeding
painful, for one may not stand very long in the same position without
becoming cramped, and he who is in the pillory cannot move hands or
head.
STEALING FROM THE INDIANS
I grieve to say that there were some among our people who seemed to
believe there was nothing of crime that could be committed against a
savage, and Master Josias Plastow, whom we had ever looked upon as a
godly man, showed himself to be knavish where the brown people were
concerned.
Chickatabut, the chief of the Massachusetts Indians, of whom I have
already spoken, brought proof to Boston that Master Plastow had stolen
three half-bushels of corn from some of his people, living near
Neponset, and on being charged with the offence by Governor Winthrop,
Master Plastow confessed that he had done so, claiming that it was not
stealing to take from the savages.
[Illustration]
The Governor and his assistants thought differently, though, for
Master Plastow was fined five pounds in money, and ordered to send six
half-bushels of corn to the Indians from whom he had stolen, after
which all people were forbidden to call him Master any more, but must
give him only the name of Josias.
Captain Stone believed this sentence to be wrong, and openly called
the justice unseemly names. He was straightway summoned before the
court, and fined one hundred pounds in money for speaking
disrespectfully of one in authority.
Nor was this the only case where fault was found with the punishment
inflicted upon Josias. Henry Lyon wrote a letter to a cousin of his in
Plymouth, another to a friend in Salem, and sent four to London, all
of which were filled with harsh words against the Governor of Boston,
and the manner in which justice was dealt out. He was given twelve
lashes on the bare back, and banished to England.
THE PASSING OF NEW LAWS
When we had been in this village two years, there was much vexation
because of the greater portion of the gold and silver money, which our
people had brought with them, having been sent back to England in
order to purchase goods there, and the result was that even those who
were well off in the things of this world, found themselves unable to
pay their debts.
Therefore it was that the court ordered corn to be taken in the stead
of gold and silver, unless money, or beaver skins, were set down in
the writing as the method of payment agreed upon.
At the same time another law was passed, part of which seemed to bear
heavily upon those who were homesick to the point of going back to
England, and yet may have offended the officers of the law in some
way. It was declared that no person should be allowed to depart out of
the town of Boston, either by sea or by land, or to buy goods out of
any vessel or of the Indians, without permission from the magistrates.
I know it is not seemly for a girl to question that which her elders
have done, and yet there were many times when it seemed to me as if
such a law worked injury to us of Boston.
I might not have given so much heed to matters which do not concern
girls, but for the fact that Susan's father had crossed the Neck on
his way in search of wild animals, and having come some four miles
into the forest, he met an Indian who had on his back a half-bushel of
corn in a basket.
The savage took a fancy to the girdle he wore, offered to give him the
corn, and bring as much more on the following day, if the belt were
given to him then.
[Illustration]
Susan's father, believing that the law against buying provisions of an
Indian would not be carried so far as to prevent a bargain like the
one which the savage had offered, stripped off his belt and took the
corn.
On coming back to the town, Samuel Goodlove, one of the tithing-men,
met him, and asked how it chanced he had set forth in search of wild
fowl and brought back corn.
Thinking no harm, Susan's father told all that had been done in the
forest, and straightway he was brought before Governor Winthrop, who
fined him ten shillings and the corn he had brought on his back four
miles, for having offended the law. In addition, he was sentenced to
give back to the Indian as much corn as he had taken, but without
demanding from him the girdle that had been given over.
MASTER PORMONT'S SCHOOL
Five years after we were settled in this town of Boston, a school was
set up for young people, and such children of the Indians as wished to
attend were allowed to do so freely without payment, although every
white man was forced to pay each year a certain amount, either in
money or in goods, for the hire of the teacher, who was Master
Philemon Pormont.
It must not be supposed that we children knew nothing whatsoever of
reading, writing, or of doing small sums in arithmetic, up to this
time. A certain portion of each day did my mother or father teach me
my lessons, and when Master Pormont opened his school, I could write
as fair a hand as I do now, which seems fortunate, for he was not
skilful in teaching the art of writing.
As for myself, I truly believe that had my first lessons in the use of
a quill come from him, I had never known how to form a letter, because
of his being exceeding harsh in his ways.
[Illustration]
A child who failed in doing at the first attempt exactly as Master
Pormont thought fit, was given a sharp blow over the knuckles of the
hand which held the quill, and Ezra Whitman was punished in this
manner so severely on a certain day, that it was nearly a week before
he was able to use his fingers. Even then the teacher declared that if
the blow had been sharper, the boy would, before the pain had ceased,
have known more about that which he was endeavoring to show him.
The school was first set up in the house that had been built by Josias
Plastow. If you remember, he was one who had been under the discipline
of the court, and it was forbidden any should call him save by the
name of Josias.
Feeling that he had been harshly dealt with, Josias left Boston, and
went into Plymouth to live, therefore did his dwelling belong to the
town, according to the law. It was made into a schoolroom by having
benches set up around the four sides, in such fashion that the
scholars faced a ledge of puncheon planks, which was built against the
walls to be used when we needed a desk on which to write, or to work
out sums in arithmetic.
Master Pormont sat upon a platform in the center of the room, where he
could keep us children well in view, and woe betide the one who
neglected his task, for punishment was certain to follow.
SCHOOL DISCIPLINE
There were times when it seemed to me as if Master Pormont had eyes in
the back of his head, for once when I ventured to ask Susan Freeman
for the loan of her quill, while he was looking in the opposite
direction, I was speedily called to an account for misbehavior. Then
it was he handed me a knife he carried in his pocket, and further
command was not needed.
I knew full well that I must go outside and cut a stout switch for use
upon my own body, and if peradventure I had been so foolish as to
bring back a small one, the first would have been used to switch me
with until it was broken, after which it was my duty to go for another
of more weight.
[Illustration]
My hands smarted a full hour after the punishment had been dealt out,
and there were such swellings upon them when I got home that mother
tied both up in linen after besmearing them plentifully with ointment.
It was not always that Master Pormont used a switch upon a child who
had been foolish enough to speak with his neighbor, for he had what
were called whispering-sticks, which were most disagreeable to wear,
and caused a great deal of pain, so Susan said; but as for myself, I
was never forced to bear such punishment.
These whispering-sticks were stout bits of wood from the oak tree,
which could not readily be broken by the teeth, and were put into a
child's mouth as you thrust a bit into the mouth of a horse, after
which the two ends were bound securely back of the neck. Thus the
unfortunate one's jaws were stretched wide open, oftentimes for a full
hour.
OTHER TOOLS OF TORTURE
It seemed to me then, and does even now, that Master Pormont spent
more time devising means of punishment than in teaching us our
lessons, for he had as many torture tools of various kinds as would
have served to make a heavy load for either of us children.
That which the lads most feared was the flapper, and truly it was well
contrived to cause pain. It was a piece of stout deer hide, or thick
leather, four or five inches wide, and twice as long, with a hole in
the center about as large as the end of my thumb. One end of this was
tied to a stout handle, and, when applying it, Master Pormont forced
the child who had disobeyed the rules of school, to lie over one of
the benches in such a manner that he could come at the lad's bare
skin. When the flapper was laid on vigorously, at each blow the flesh
would puff up through this hole in the center of the leather, in a way
most painful to behold.
There is little need for me to say that Master Pormont had a number of
dunce's caps made of bark from the birch tree, on which were painted
different inscriptions to suit the offence, such as "Stupid Boy," for
one who could not readily answer the questions he asked concerning the
day's lessons; "A Silly Dunce," to fit one who was slow in learning;
"A Wicked Liar," for some lad who had not told the truth.
In fact, I cannot set down all the names which Master Pormont had
written on these dunce's caps, and there was hardly an hour during the
day when at least one of them was not in use.
[Illustration]
That contrivance which he had for children who would not sit quietly
on their benches, was, seemingly, the most innocent, and yet, as I
know to my sorrow, caused a vast amount of pain. It was a small square
of puncheon plank with a single stick in the center as a leg, and on
this the culprit was forced to sit, balancing himself or herself as
best might be by the feet, without being allowed to touch the hands to
anything.
As I thus set down the poor description it seems a harmless thing, and
a punishment too mild to meet a grave offence, but yet if you were to
try to balance yourself on this unipod, as Master Pormont called it,
for the space of an hour, every joint in your body would cry aloud
with pain.
As for myself, I know that more than once I would rather have fallen
headlong from this unipod, than have endured the torture a single
moment, even had I not known that more severe punishment would follow
such a disregard of the rules of school.
DIFFICULT LESSONS
The first lesson which Master Pormont gave to those of us children who
could read and write fairly well, was from the Latin grammar, and he
required that we have at our tongue's end within the first day, the
different forms of no less than six verbs; and this regardless of the
fact that we had never so much as put our eyes to the language before!
Do not let it be understood that I am in any way complaining of
whatsoever Master Pormont did, for although I could not understand
the reason for many of the lessons at that time, there can be no
question but that so wise a man as he knew what was best suited for us
children.
But surely, to Susan and me, who knew no more of arithmetic than was
to be found in the multiplying, dividing, and adding of small sums, it
was most grievous work to stumble over such terms as "fret," "tare,"
and "net," when we had no idea of their meaning.
Nor would Master Pormont give us such information, claiming that we
should seek it from our parents, or from other people in the town, to
the end that if it was gained by much labor we would the longer
remember it.
OTHER SCHOOLS
To me it was a great relief when dame schools were established, and by
this term I mean schools that were taught by women.
Some of our more tender-hearted people believed Master Pormont's
methods were too harsh for the younger children; therefore, after he
had kept school one year, Mistress Sowerby, who was the widow of
Master Sowerby who had been assistant in the church at Yarmouth, in
England, was hired at the wage of six pounds a year to teach the girls
and the smaller boys.
She did not appear to think it necessary that young ladies should know
so very much concerning Latin grammar, or arithmetic; but rather spent
her time showing us how to spin tow strings, or to knit hose or
stockings.
Because of the school's having been set up in her own home, we could
learn how to cook, and to weave, and to knit, not only for our own
use, but to sell, and any kind of knitting work done well was in great
demand. When I could do herringbone, or fox-and-geese patterns,
working them, moreover, into mittens or stockings, I felt exceeding
proud.
[Illustration]
Indeed, we had among us one girl who knit into a single pair of
mittens, the alphabet and a verse of poetry in four lines.
Mistress Sowerby was most careful in teaching us the use of the quill,
for she claimed that the young girl or young woman, who could make
easy, flowing letters, need not consider herself ignorant, even though
she failed in arithmetic, or was unable to spell correctly the words
she set down.
It seemed to Susan and me as if the people of Boston were taking great
pride in the teaching of their children, when we learned that four
hundred pounds had been set aside from the money of the town with
which to set up a college, near those plantations which we had come to
call the New Town.
We girls were more than disappointed, however, when told that only
lads would be allowed to enter this college, and then not until having
gained a certain amount of knowledge elsewhere; but yet it was a
matter in which we could take pride, that there should be such a
school formed when only six years had passed since we began to build
the town of Boston.
RAISING FLAX
It would be strange indeed if I failed to set down anything concerning
the flax which we spin, because save for it we would have had nothing
of linen except what could be brought from England. There is no
question but that every one who reads this will know exactly how flax
is raised and spun into cloth; but yet I am minded to explain, because
we girls of Boston have more to do with raising flax than with any
other crop.
It is sown early in the spring, and when the plants are three or four
inches high, we girls are obliged to weed them, and in so doing are
forced to go barefoot, because of the stalks being very tender and
therefore easily broken down.
[Illustration]
I do not believe there is a child in town who fails to go into the
flax fields, because of its being such work as can be done by young
people better than by older ones, who are heavier and more likely to
injure the plants.
I have said that we are obliged to go barefooted; but where there is a
heavy growth of thistles, as is often the case, we girls wear two or
three pairs of woolen stockings to protect our feet.
If there is any wind, we must perforce work facing it, so that such of
the plants as may by accident have been trodden down, may be blown
back into place by the breeze.