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This battle also proved fatal to the barve Caillemote, who had followed the Duke's fortunes, and commanded one of the Protestant regiments. After having received a mortal wound, he was carried back through the river by four soldiers, and, though almost in the agonies of death, he, with a cheerful countenance, encouraged those who were crossing to do their duty, exclaiming, "A la gloire, mes enfants, a la gloire!" ("To glory, my lads, to glory!")
The third remarkable person who lost his life on this occasion was Walker, the clergyman, who had so valiantly defended Londonderry against the whole army of King James; he had been very graciously received by King William, who gratified him with a reward of five thousand pounds and a promise of further favor; but, his military genius still predominating, he attended his royal patron in this battle, and, being shot, died in a few minutes.
The persons of distinction who fell on the other side were the Lords Dongan and Carlingford; Sir Neile O'Neile and the Marquis of Hocquincourt. James, himself, stood aloof during the action on the hill of Dunmore, surrounded with some squadrons of horse, and seeing victory declare against him retired to Dublin without having made the least effort to reassemble his broken forces. Had he possessed either spirit or conduct his army might have been rallied and reenforced from his garrisons, so as to be in a condition to keep the field and even to act on the offensive; for his loss was inconsiderable, and the victor did not attempt to molest his troops in their retreat, an omission which has been charged to him as a flagrant instance of misconduct. Indeed, through the whole of this engagement William's personal courage was much more conspicuous than his military skill.
%SALEM WITCHCRAFT TRIALS%
A.D. 1692
RICHARD HILDRETH
Among the people of Massachusetts during the century which saw the Pilgrims seek religious liberty there, a delusion broke out which not only spread horror through the community and caused suffering and disgrace even in the most respectable families, but has baffled all later attempts at explanation. The witchcraft madness, as manifested there and elsewhere in the world, has remained alike the puzzle of history and the riddle of psychology.
Historically, witchcraft is classed with other occult phenomena or practices connected with supposed supernatural influences. The famous trials and executions for witchcraft which took place in and near Salem, Massachusetts, toward the end of the seventeenth century, owed their special prominence to their peculiar localization and environment. Otherwise they might have been regarded as nothing more than incidents of a once general course in criminal procedure. Thousands in Europe had already suffered similar condemnation, and the last recorded execution for witchcraft in Great Britain did not occur till 1722. Even so late as 1805 a woman was imprisoned for this "crime" in Scotland.
Hildreth's account skilfully condenses the essential matters relating to this strange episode in Massachusetts history.
* * * * *
The practice of magic, sorcery, and spells, in the reality of which all ignorant communities have believed, had long been a criminal offence in England. A statute of the thirty-third year of Henry VIII made them capital felonies. Another statute of the first year of James I, more specific in its terms, subjected to the same penalty all persons "invoking any evil spirit, or consulting, covenanting with, entertaining, employing, feeding, or rewarding any evil spirit, or taking up dead bodies from their graves to be used in any witchcraft, sorcery, charm, or enchantment, or killing or otherwise hurting any person by such infernal arts."
That second Solomon, before whom the illustrious Bacon bowed with so much reverence, was himself a firm believer in witchcraft. He professed, indeed, to be an adept in the art of detecting witches, an art which became the subject of several learned treatises, one of them from James' own royal pen. During the Commonwealth England had abounded with professional witch-detectors, who travelled from county to county, and occasioned the death of many unfortunate persons. The "Fundamentals" of Massachusetts contained a capital law against witchcraft, fortified by that express declaration of Scripture, "Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live."
Yet, among other evidences of departure from ancient landmarks, and of the propagation even to New England of a spirit of doubt, were growing suspicions as to the reality of that everyday supernaturalism which formed so prominent a feature of the Puritan theology. The zeal of Increase Mather against this rising incredulity had engaged him, while the old charter was still in existence, to publish a book of Remarkable Providences, in which were enumerated, among other things, all the supposed cases of witchcraft which had hitherto occurred in New England, with arguments to prove their reality.
What at that time had given the matter additional interest was the case of a bewitched or haunted house at Newbury. An intelligent neighbor, who had suggested that a mischievous grandson of the occupant might perhaps be at the bottom of the mystery, was himself accused of witchcraft and narrowly escaped. A witch, however, the credulous townspeople were resolved to find, and they presently fixed upon the wife of the occupant as the culprit. Seventeen persons testified to mishaps experienced in the course of their lives, which they charitably chose to ascribe to the ill-will and diabolical practices of this unfortunate old woman. On this evidence she was found guilty by the jury; but the magistrates, more enlightened, declined to order her execution. The deputies thereupon raised a loud complaint at this delay of justice. But the firmness of Governor Bradstreet, supported as he was by the moderate party, and the abrogation of the charter which speedily followed, saved the woman's life.
This same struggle of opinion existed also in the mother-country, where the rising sect of "freethinkers" began to deny and deride all diabolical agencies. Nor was this view confined to professed freethinkers. The latitudinarian party in the Church, a rapidly growing body, leaned perceptibly the same way. The "serious ministers," on the other hand, led by Richard Baxter, their acknowledged head, defended with zeal the reality of witchcraft and the personality and agency of the devil, to deny which they denounced as little short of atheism. They supported their opinions by the authority of Sir Matthew Hale, lord chief justice of England, as distinguished for piety as for knowledge of the law, under whose instructions two alleged witches, at whose trials he had presided shortly after the Restoration, had been found guilty and executed. The accounts of those trials, published in England on occasion of this controversy and republished at Boston, had tended to confirm the popular belief. The doubts by which Mather had been alarmed were yet confined to a few thinking men. Read with a forward and zealous faith, these stories did not fail to make a deep impression on the popular imagination.
While Andros was still governor, shortly after Increase Mather's departure for England, four young children, members of a pious family in Boston, the eldest a girl of thirteen, the youngest a boy not five, had begun to behave in a singular manner, barking like dogs, purring like cats, seeming to become deaf, blind, or dumb, having their limbs strangely distorted, complaining that they were pinched, pricked, pulled, or cut—acting out, in fact, the effects of witchcraft, according to the current notions of it and the descriptions in the books above referred to. The terrified father called in Dr. Oakes, a zealous leader of the ultra-theocratic party—presently sent to England as joint agent with Mather—who gave his opinion that the children were bewitched. The oldest girl had lately received a bitter scolding from an old Irish indented servant, whose daughter she had accused of theft.
This same old woman, from indications no doubt given by the children, was soon fixed upon as being the witch. The four ministers of Boston and another from Charlestown having kept a day of fasting and prayer at the troubled house, the youngest child was relieved. But the others, more persevering and more artful, continuing as before, the old woman was presently arrested and charged with bewitching them. She had for a long time been reputed a witch, and she even seems to have flattered herself that she was one. Indeed, her answers were so "senseless" that the magistrates referred it to the doctors to say if she were not "crazed in her intellects." On their report of her sanity, the old woman was tried, found guilty, and executed.
Though Increase Mather was absent on this interesting occasion, he had a zealous representative in his son, Cotton Mather, by the mother's side grandson of the "Great Cotton," a young minister of twenty-five, a prodigy of learning, eloquence, and piety, recently settled as colleague with his father over Boston North Church. Cotton Mather had an extraordinary memory, stuffed with all sorts of learning. His application was equal to that of a German professor. His lively imagination, trained in the school of Puritan theology, and nourished on the traditionary legends of New England, of which he was a voracious and indiscriminate collector, was still further stimulated by fasts, vigils, prayers, and meditations almost equal to those of any Catholic saint. Of a temperament ambitious and active, he was inflamed with a great desire of "doing good." Fully conscious of all his gifts, and not a little vain of them, like the Jesuit missionaries in Canada, his contemporaries, he believed himself to be often, during his devotional exercises, in direct and personal communication with the Deity.
In every piece of good-fortune he saw a special answer to his prayers; in every mortification or calamity, the special personal malice of the devil and his agents. Yet both himself and his father were occasionally troubled with "temptations to atheism," doubts which they did not hesitate to ascribe to diabolical influence. The secret consciousness of these doubts of their own was perhaps one source of their great impatience at the doubts of others.
Cotton Mather had taken a very active part in the late case of witchcraft; and, that he might study the operations of diabolical agency at his leisure, and thus be furnished with evidence and arguments to establish its reality, he took the eldest of the bewitched children home to his own house. His eagerness to believe invited imposture. His excessive vanity and strong prejudices made him easy game. Adroit and artful beyond her years, the girl fooled him to the top of his bent. His ready pen was soon furnished with materials for "a story all made up of wonders," which, with some other matters of the same sort, and a sermon preached on the occasion, he presently published, under the title of Memorable Providences relating to Witchcrafts and Possessions, with a preface in which he warned all "Sadducees" that he should regard their doubts for the future as a personal insult.
Cotton Mather was not the only dupe. "The old heresy of the sensual Sadducees, denying the being of angels either good or evil," says the recommendatory preface to this book, signed by the other four ministers of Boston, "died not with them, nor will it, whilst men, abandoning both faith and reason, count it their wisdom to credit nothing but what they see or feel. How much this fond opinion hath gotten ground in this debauched age is awfully observable; and what a dangerous stroke it gives to settle men in atheism is not hard to discern. God is therefore pleased, besides the witness borne to this truth in Sacred Writ, to suffer devils sometimes to do such things in the world as shall stop the mouths of gainsayers, and extort a confession from them."
They add their testimony to the truth of Mather's statements, which they commend as furnishing "clear information" that there is "both a God and a devil, and witchcraft." The book was presently republished in London, with a preface by Baxter, who pronounced the girl's case so "convincing" that "he must be a very obdurate Sadducee who would not believe it."
Mather's sermon, prefixed to this narrative, is a curious specimen of fanatical declamation. "Witchcraft," he exclaims, "is a renouncing of God, and the advancement of a filthy devil into the throne of the Most High. Witchcraft is a renouncing of Christ, and preferring the communion of a loathsome, lying devil before all the salvation of the Lord Redeemer. Witchcraft is a siding with hell against heaven and earth, and therefore a witch is not to be endured in either of them. 'Tis a capital crime, and is to be prosecuted as a species of devilism that would not only deprive God and Christ of all his honor, but also plunder man of all his comfort. Nothing too vile can be said of, nothing too hard can be done to, such a horrible iniquity as witchcraft is!"
Such declamations from such a source, giving voice and authority to the popular superstition, prepared the way for the tragedy that followed. The suggestion, however, that Cotton Mather, for purposes of his own, deliberately got up this witchcraft delusion, and forced it upon a doubtful and hesitating people, is utterly absurd. And so is another suggestion, a striking exhibition of partisan extravagance, that because the case of the four Boston children happened during the government of Andros, therefore the responsibility of that affair rests on him, and not on the people of Massachusetts. The Irish woman was tried under a Massachusetts law, and convicted by a Massachusetts jury; and, had Andros interfered to save her life, to the other charges against him would doubtless have been added that of friendship for witches.
Cotton Mather seems to have acted, in a degree, the part of a demagogue. Yet he is not to be classed with those tricky and dishonest men, so common in our times, who play upon popular prejudices which they do not share, in the expectation of being elevated to honors and office. Mather's position, convictions, and temperament alike called him to serve on this occasion as the organ, exponent, and stimulator of the popular faith.
The bewitched girl, as she ceased to be an object of popular attention, seems to have returned to her former behavior. But the seed had been sown on fruitful ground. After an interval of nearly four years, three young girls in the family of Parris, minister of Salem village, now Danvers, began to exhibit similar pranks. As in the Boston case, a physician pronounced them bewitched, and Tituba, an old Indian woman, the servant of Parris, who undertook, by some vulgar rites, to discover the witch, was rewarded by the girls with the accusation of being herself the cause of their sufferings. The neighboring ministers assembled at the house of Parris for fasting and prayer. The village fasted; and presently a general fast was ordered throughout the colony. The "bewitched children," thus rendered objects of universal sympathy and attention, did not long want imitators. Several other girls and two or three women of the neighborhood began to be afflicted in the same way, as did also John, the Indian husband of Tituba, warned, it would seem, by the fate of his wife.
Parris took a very active part in discovering the witches; so did Noyes, minister of Salem, described as "a learned, a charitable, and a good man." A town committee was soon formed for the detection of the witches. Two of the magistrates, resident at Salem, entered with great zeal into the matter. The accusations, confined at first to Tituba and two other friendless women, one crazed, the other bedrid, presently included two female members of Parris' church, in which, as in so many other churches, there had been some sharp dissensions. The next Sunday after this accusation Parris preached from the verse, "Have I not chosen you twelve, and one is a devil?" At the announcement of this text the sister of one of the accused women rose and left the meeting-house. She, too, was accused immediately after, and the same fate soon overtook all who showed the least disposition to resist the prevailing delusion.
The matter had now assumed so much importance that the Deputy-governor—for the provisional government was still in operation—proceeded to Salem village, with five other magistrates, and held a court in the meeting-house. A great crowd was present. Parris acted at once as clerk and accuser, producing the witnesses, and taking down the testimony. The accused were held with their arms extended and hands open, lest by the least motion of their fingers they might inflict torments on their victims, who sometimes affected to be struck dumb, and at others to be knocked down by the mere glance of an eye. They were haunted, they said, by the spectres of the accused, who tendered them a book, and solicited them to subscribe a league with the devil; and when they refused, would bite, pinch, scratch, choke, burn, twist, prick, pull, and otherwise torment them. At the mere sight of the accused brought into court, "the afflicted" would seem to be seized with a fit of these torments, from which, however, they experienced instant relief when the accused were compelled to touch them—infallible proof to the minds of the gaping assembly that these apparent sufferings were real and the accusations true. The theory was that the touch conveyed back into the witch the malignant humors shot forth from her eyes; and learned references were even made to Descartes, of whose new philosophy some rumors had reached New England, in support of this theory.
In the examinations at Salem village meeting-house some very extraordinary scenes occurred. "Look there!" cried one of the afflicted; "there is Goody Procter on the beam!" This Goody Procter's husband, notwithstanding the accusation against her, still took her side, and had attended her to the court; in consequence of which act of fidelity some of "the afflicted" began now to cry out that he too was a wizard. At the exclamation above cited, "many, if not all, the bewitched had grievous fits."
Question by the Court: "Ann Putnam, who hurts you?"
Answer: "Goodman Procter, and his wife, too."
Then some of the afflicted cry out, "There is Procter going to take up Mrs. Pope's feet!" and "immediately her feet are taken up."
Question by the Court: "What do you say, Goodman Procter, to these things?"
Answer: "I know not: I am innocent."
Abigail Williams, another of the afflicted, cries out, "There is Goodman Procter going to Mrs. Pope!" and "immediately said Pope falls into a fit."
A magistrate to Procter: "You see the devil will deceive you; the children," so all the afflicted were called, "could see what you were going to do before the woman was hurt. I would advise you to repentance, for you see the devil is bringing you out."
Abigail Williams cries out again, "There is Goodman Procter going to hurt Goody Bibber!" and "immediately Goody Bibber falls into a fit." Abigail Williams and Ann Putnam both "made offer to strike at Elizabeth Procter; but when Abigail's hand came near, it opened, whereas it was made up into a fist before, and came down exceedingly lightly as it drew near to said Procter, and at length, with open and extended fingers, touched Procter's hood very lightly; and immediately Abigail cries out, 'My fingers, my fingers, my fingers burn!' and Ann Putnam takes on most grievously of her head, and sinks down."
Such was the evidence upon which people were believed to be witches, and committed to prison to be tried for their lives! Yet, let us not hurry too much to triumph over the past. In these days of animal magnetism, have we not ourselves seen imposture as gross, and even in respectable quarters a headlong credulity just as precipitate? We must consider also that the judgments of our ancestors were disturbed, not only by wonder, but by fear.
Encouraged by the ready belief of the magistrates and the public, "the afflicted" went on enlarging the circle of their accusations, which presently seemed to derive fresh corroboration from the confessions of some of the accused. Tituba had been flogged into a confession; others yielded to a pressure more stringent than blows. Weak women, astonished at the charges and contortions of their accusers, assured that they were witches beyond all doubt, and urged to confess as the only possible chance for their lives, were easily prevailed upon to repeat any tales put into their mouths: their journeys through the air on broomsticks to attend witch sacraments—a sort of travesty on the Christian ordinance—at which the devil appeared in the shape of a "small black man"; their signing the devil's book, renouncing their former baptism, and being baptized anew by the devil, who "dipped" them in "Wenham Pond," after the Anabaptist fashion.
Called upon to tell who were present at these sacraments, the confessing witches wound up with new accusations; and by the time Phipps arrived in the colony, near a hundred persons were already in prison. The mischief was not limited to Salem. An idea had been taken up that the bewitched could explain the causes of sickness; and one of them, carried to Andover for that purpose, had accused many persons of witchcraft, and thrown the whole village into the greatest commotion. Some persons also had been accused in Boston and other towns.
It was one of Governor Phipps' first official acts to order all the prisoners into irons. This restraint upon their motions might impede them, it was hoped, in tormenting the afflicted. Without waiting for the meeting of the General Court, to whom that authority properly belonged, Phipps hastened, by advice of his counsel, to organize a special court for the trial of the witches. Stoughton, the Lieutenant-governor, was appointed president; but his cold and hard temper, his theological education, and unyielding bigotry were ill qualifications for such an office. His associates, six in number, were chiefly Boston men, possessing a high reputation for wisdom and piety, among them Richards, the late agent, Wait Winthrop, brother of Fitz-John Winthrop, and grandson of the former Governor, and Samuel Sewell, the two latter subsequently, in turn, chief-justices of the province.
The new court, thus organized, proceeded to Salem, and commenced operations by the trial of an old woman who had long enjoyed the reputation of being a witch. Besides "spectral evidence," that is, the tales of the afflicted, a jury of women, appointed to make an examination, found upon her a wart or excrescence, adjudged to be "a devil's teat." A number of old stories were also raked up of dead hens and foundered cattle and carts upset, ascribed by the neighbors to her incantations. On this evidence she was brought in guilty, and hanged a few days after, when the court took an adjournment to the end of the month.
The first General Court under the new charter met meanwhile, and Increase Mather, who had returned in company with Phipps, gave an account of his agency. From a House not well pleased with the loss of the old charter he obtained a reluctant vote of thanks, but he received no compensation for four years' expenses, which had pressed very heavily upon his narrow income. After passing a temporary act for continuing in force all the old laws, among others the capital law against witchcraft, an adjournment was had, without any objection or even reference, so far as appears, to the special court for the trial of the witches, which surely would have raised a great outcry had it been established for any unpopular purpose.
According to a favorite practice of the old Government, now put in use for the last time, Phipps requested the advice of the elders as to the proceedings against the witches. The reply, drawn up by the hand of Cotton Mather, acknowledges with thankfulness "the success which the merciful God has given to the sedulous and assiduous endeavors of our honorable rulers to defeat the abominable witchcrafts which have been committed in the country, humbly praying that the discovery of those mysterious and mischievous wickednesses may be perfected." It advises, however, "critical and exquisite caution" in relying too much on "the devil's authority," that is, on spectral evidence, or "apparent changes wrought in the afflicted by the presence of the accused"; neither of which, in the opinion of the ministers, could be trusted as infallible proof. Yet it was almost entirely on this sort of evidence that all the subsequent convictions were had. Stoughton, unfortunately, had espoused the opinion—certainly a plausible one—that it was impossible for the devil to assume the appearance of an innocent man, or for persons not witches to be spectrally seen at witches' meetings; and some of the confessing witches were prompt to flatter the chief justice's vanity by confirming a doctrine so apt for their purposes.
At the second session of the special court five women were tried and convicted. The others were easily disposed of; but in the case of Rebecca Nurse, one of Parris' church-members, a woman hitherto of unimpeachable character, the jury at first gave a verdict of acquittal. At the announcement of this verdict "the afflicted" raised a great clamor. The "honored Court" called the jury's attention to an exclamation of the prisoner during the trial, expressive of surprise at seeing among the witnesses two of her late fellow-prisoners: "Why do these testify against me? They used to come among us!" These two witnesses had turned confessors, and these words were construed by the court as confirming their testimony of having met the prisoner at witches' meetings. The unhappy woman, partially deaf, listened to this colloquy in silence. Thus pressed by the Court, and hearing no reply from the prisoner, the jury changed their verdict and pronounced her guilty. The explanations subsequently offered in her behalf were disregarded. The Governor, indeed, granted a reprieve, but the Salem committee procured its recall, and the unhappy woman, taken in chains to the meeting-house, was solemnly excommunicated, and presently hanged with the others.
At the third session of the court six prisoners were tried and convicted, all of whom were presently hanged except Elizabeth Procter, whose pregnancy was pleaded in delay. Her true and faithful husband, in spite of a letter to the Boston ministers, denouncing the falsehood of the witnesses, complaining that confessions had been extorted by torture, and begging for a trial at Boston or before other judges, was found guilty, and suffered with the rest. Another of this unfortunate company was John Willard, employed as an officer to arrest the accused, but whose imprudent expression of some doubts on the subject had caused him to be accused also. He had fled, but was pursued and taken, and was now tried and executed. His behavior, and that of Procter, at the place of execution, made, however, a deep impression on many minds.
A still more remarkable case was that of George Burroughs, a minister whom the incursions of the Eastern Indians had lately driven from Saco back to Salem village, where he had formerly preached, and where he now found among his former parishioners enemies more implacable even than the Indians. It was the misfortune of Burroughs to have many enemies, in part, perhaps, by his own fault. Encouragement was thus found to accuse him. Some of the witnesses had seen him at witches' meetings; others had seen the apparitions of his dead wives, which accused him of cruelty. These witnesses, with great symptoms of horror and alarm, even pretended to see these dead wives again appearing to them in open court. Though small of size, Burroughs was remarkably strong, instances of which were given in proof that the devil helped him. Stoughton treated him with cruel insolence, and did his best to confuse and confound him.
What insured his condemnation was a paper he handed to the jury, an extract from some author, denying the possibility of witchcraft. Burroughs' speech from the gallows affected many, especially the fluent fervency of his prayers, concluding with the Lord's Prayer, which no witch, it was thought, could repeat correctly. Several, indeed, had been already detected by some slight error or mispronunciation in attempting it. The impression, however, which Burroughs might have produced was neutralized by Cotton Mather, who appeared on horseback among the crowd, and took occasion to remind the people that Burroughs, though a preacher, was no "ordained" minister, and that the devil would sometimes assume even the garb of an angel of light.
At a fourth session of the court six women were tried and found guilty. At another session shortly after, eight women and one man were convicted, all of whom received sentence of death. An old man of eighty, who refused to plead, was pressed to death—a barbarous infliction prescribed by the common law for such cases.
Ever since the trials began, it had been evident that confession was the only avenue to safety. Several of those now found guilty confessed and were reprieved; but Samuel Woodwell, having retracted his confession, along with seven others who persisted in their innocence, was sent to execution. "The afflicted" numbered by this time about fifty; fifty-five had confessed themselves witches and turned accusers; twenty persons had already suffered death; eight more were under sentence; the jails were full of prisoners, and new accusations were added every day. Such was the state of things when the court adjourned to the first Monday in November.
Cotton Mather employed this interval in preparing his Wonders of the Invisible World, containing an exulting account of the late trials, giving full credit to the statements of the afflicted and the confessors, and vaunting the good effects of the late executions in "the strange deliverance of some that had lain for many years in a most sad condition, under they knew not what evil hand."
While the witch trials were going on, the Governor had hastened to Pemaquid, and in accordance with instructions brought with him from England, though at an expense to the province which caused loud complaints, had built there a strong stone fort. Colonel Church had been employed, in the mean time, with four hundred men, in scouring the shores of the Penobscot and the banks of the Kennebec.
Notwithstanding some slight cautions about trusting too much to spectral evidence, Mather's book, which professed to be published at the special request of the Governor, was evidently intended to stimulate to further proceedings. But, before its publication, the reign of terror had already reached such a height as to commence working its own cure. The accusers, grown bold with success, had begun to implicate persons whose character and condition had seemed to place them beyond the possibility of assault. Even "the generation of the children of God" were in danger. One of the Andover ministers had been implicated; but two of the confessing witches came to his rescue by declaring that they had surreptitiously carried his shape to a witches' meeting, in order to create a belief that he was there. Hale, minister of Beverly, had been very active against the witches; but when his own wife was charged, he began to hesitate. A son of Governor Bradstreet, a magistrate of Andover, having refused to issue any more warrants, was himself accused, and his brother soon after, on the charge of bewitching a dog. Both were obliged to fly for their lives. Several prisoners, by the favor of friends, escaped to Rhode Island, but, finding themselves in danger there, fled to New York, where Governor Fletcher gave them protection. Their property was seized as forfeited by their flight. Lady Phipps, applied to in her husband's absence on behalf of an unfortunate prisoner, issued a warrant to the jailer in her own name, and had thus, rather irregularly, procured his discharge. Some of the accusers, it is said, began to throw out insinuations even against her.
The extraordinary proceedings on the commitments and trials; the determination of the magistrates to overlook the most obvious falsehoods and contradictions on the part of the afflicted and the confessors, under pretence that the devil took away their memories and imposed upon their brain, while yet reliance was placed on their testimony to convict the accused; the partiality exhibited in omitting to take any notice of certain accusations; the violent means employed to obtain confessions, amounting sometimes to positive torture; the total disregard of retractions made voluntarily, and even at the hazard of life—all these circumstances had impressed the attention of the more rational part of the community; and, in this crisis of danger and alarm, the meeting of the General Court was most anxiously awaited.
When that body assembled, a remonstrance came in from Andover against the condemnation of persons of good fame on the testimony of children and others "under diabolical influences." What action was taken on this remonstrance does not appear. The court was chiefly occupied in the passage of a number of acts, embodying some of the chief points of the old civil and criminal laws of the colony. The capital punishment of witchcraft was specially provided for in the very terms of the English act of Parliament. Heresy and blasphemy were also continued as capital offences. By the organization of the Superior Court under the charter, the special commission for the trial of witches was superseded. But of this Superior Court Stoughton was appointed chief justice, and three of his four colleagues had sat with him in the special court.
There is no evidence that these judges had undergone any change of opinion; but when the new court proceeded to hold a special term at Salem for the continuation of the witch trials a decided alteration in public feeling became apparent. Six women of Andover renounced their confessions, and sent in a memorial to that effect. Of fifty-six indictments laid before the grand jury, only twenty-six were returned true bills. Of the persons tried, three only were found guilty. Several others were acquitted, the first instances of the sort since the trials began.
The court then proceeded to Charlestown, where many were in prison on the same charge. The case of a woman who for twenty or thirty years had been reputed a witch, was selected for trial. Many witnesses testified against her; but the spectral evidence had fallen into total discredit, and was not used. Though as strong a case was made out as any at Salem, the woman was acquitted, with her daughter, granddaughter, and several others. News presently came of a reprieve for those under sentence of death at Salem, at which Stoughton was so enraged that he left the bench, exclaiming, "Who it is that obstructs the course of justice I know not; the Lord be merciful to the country!" nor did he again take his seat during that term.
At the first session of the Superior Court at Boston the grand jury, though sent out to reconsider the matter, refused to find a bill even against a confessing witch.
The idea was already prevalent that some great mistakes had been committed at Salem. The reality of witchcraft was still insisted upon as zealously as ever, but the impression was strong that the devil had used "the afflicted" as his instruments to occasion the shedding of innocent blood. On behalf of the ministers, Increase Mather came out with his Cases of Conscience concerning Witchcraft, in which, while he argued with great learning that spectral evidence was not infallible, and that the devil might assume the shape of an innocent man, he yet strenuously maintained as sufficient proof confession, or "the speaking such words or the doing such things as none but such as have familiarity with the devil ever did or can do." As to such as falsely confessed themselves witches, and were hanged in consequence, Mather thought that was no more than they deserved.
King William's veto on the witchcraft act prevented any further trials; and presently, by Phipps' order, all the prisoners were discharged. To a similar veto Massachusetts owes it that heresy and blasphemy ceased to appear as capital crimes on her statute-book.
The Mathers gave still further proof of faith unshaken by discovering an afflicted damsel in Boston, whom they visited and prayed with, and of whose case Cotton Mather wrote an account circulated in manuscript. This damsel, however, had the discretion to accuse nobody, the spectres that beset her being all veiled. Reason and common-sense at last found an advocate in Robert Calef, a citizen of Boston, sneered at by Cotton Mather as "a weaver who pretended to be a merchant." And afterward, when he grew more angry, as "a coal sent from hell" to blacken his character—a man, however, of sound intelligence and courageous spirit. Calef wrote an account, also handed about in manuscript, of what had been said and done during a visitation of the Mathers to this afflicted damsel, an exposure of her imposture and their credulity, which so nettled Cotton Mather that he commenced a prosecution for slander against Calef, which, however, he soon saw reason to drop.
Calef then addressed a series of letters to Mather and the other Boston ministers, in which he denied and ridiculed the reality of any such compacts with the devil as were commonly believed in under the name of witchcraft. The witchcraft spoken of in the Bible meant no more, he maintained, than "hatred or opposition to the word and worship of God, and seeking to seduce therefrom by some sign"—a definition which he had found in some English writer on the subject, and which he fortified by divers texts.
It was, perhaps, to furnish materials for a reply to Calef that a circular from Harvard College, signed by Increase Mather as president, and by all the neighboring ministers as fellows, invited reports of "apparitions, possessions, enchantments, and all extraordinary things, wherein the existence and agency of the invisible world is more sensibly demonstrated," to be used "as some fit assembly of ministers might direct." But the "invisible world" was fast ceasing to be visible, and Cotton Mather laments that in ten years scarce five returns were received to this circular.
Yet the idea of some supernatural visitation at Salem was but very slowly relinquished, being still persisted in even by those penitent actors in the scene who confessed and lamented their own delusion and blood-guiltiness. Such were Sewell, one of the judges; Noyes, one of the most active prosecutors; and several of the jurymen who had sat on the trials. The witnesses upon whose testimony so many innocent persons had suffered were never called to any account. When Calef's letters were presently published in London, together with his account of the supposed witchcraft, the book was burned in the college yard at Cambridge by order of Increase Mather. The members of the Boston North Church came out also with a pamphlet in defence of their pastors. Hale, minister of Beverly, in his Modest Inquiry into the Nature of Witchcraft, and Cotton Mather, in his Magnalia, though they admit there had been "a going too far" in the affair at Salem, are yet still as strenuous as ever for the reality of witchcraft.
Nor were they without support from abroad. Dr. Watts, then one of the chief leaders of the English Dissenters, wrote to Cotton Mather, "I am persuaded there was much agency of the devil in those affairs, and perhaps there were some real witches, too." Twenty years elapsed before the heirs of the victims, and those who had been obliged to fly for their lives, obtained some partial indemnity for their pecuniary losses. Stoughton and Cotton Mather, though they never expressed the least regret or contrition for their part in the affair, still maintained their places in the public estimation. Just as the trials were concluded, Stoughton, though he held the King's commission as lieutenant-governor, was chosen a counsellor—a mark of confidence which the theocratic majority did not choose to extend to several of the moderate party named in the original appointment—and to this post he was annually reelected as long as he lived; while Moody, because he had favored the escape of some of the accused, found it necessary to resign his pastorship of the First Church of Boston, and to return again to Portsmouth.
Yet we need less wonder at the pertinacity with which this delusion was adhered to, when we find Addison arguing for the reality of witchcraft at the same time that he refuses to believe in any modern instance of it; and even Blackstone, half a century after, gravely declaring that "to deny the possibility, nay, actual existence of witchcraft and sorcery, is at once flatly to contradict the revealed word of God in various passages both of the Old and New Testament."
%ESTABLISHMENT OF THE BANK OF ENGLAND%
A.D. 1694
JOHN FRANCIS
Not only did the establishment of the Bank of England meet the demands of public exigency at the time; it also created an institution which was to become vitally important in the expanding life of the nation. This custodian of the public money and manager of the public debt of Great Britain is now the largest bank in the world. The only other financial institution that could show an equal record of long stability was the Bank of Amsterdam, which existed from 1609 to 1814.
The national debt of England began in 1693, when William III, in order to carry on the war against France, resorted to a system of loans. This debt, however, was not intended to be permanent; but when the Bank of England was established, the contracting of a permanent debt began. Its advantages and disadvantages to England have been discussed by many theorists and financial authorities. But of the extraordinary service rendered to Great Britain by the far-seeing Scotchman, William Paterson, originator of the plan of the Bank of England, there is no question, although, as Francis shows, the project at first met with opposition from many quarters.
The important position assumed by England, toward the middle of the seventeenth century, renders the absence of a national bank somewhat surprising. Under the sagacious government of Cromwell the nation had increased in commercial and political greatness; and although several projects were issued for banks, one of which was to have branches in every important town throughout the country, yet, a necessity for their formation not being absolutely felt, the proposals were dismissed. During the Protectorate, however, Parliament, taking into consideration the rate of interest, which was higher in England than abroad, and that the trade was thereby rendered comparatively disadvantageous to the English merchant, reduced the legal rate from 8 to 6 per cent., and this measure, although it had been carried by the Parliament of Cromwell, almost every act of which proved odious in the eyes of the Stuarts, was nevertheless confirmed by the legislature of Charles II. In 1546 the payment of interest had been rendered legal, and fixed at 10 per cent. In 1624 the rate had been reduced to 8 per cent.; and with the advance of commercial prosperity it had been found advisable to lower it still further.
There were many reasons for the establishment of a national bank. It was necessary for the sake of a secure paper currency. It was required for the support of the national credit. It was desirable as a method of reducing the rate of interest paid by the state; a rate so high that, according to Anderson, men were induced to take their money out of trade, for the sake of securing it; an operation "big with mischief." The truth is that the times required it. The theorist may prove to demonstration the perfection of his theory; the speculator may show the certainty of its success: but unless it be a necessity called for by the onward progress of society, it must eventually fall to the ground.
That the want of such an establishment was felt is certain. But while such firms as Childs—the books of whom go back to the year 1620, and refer to prior documents; Hoares, dating from 1680; and Snows, from 1685—were able to assist the public demand, although at the exorbitant interest of the period, it does not occasion so much surprise that the attempt made to meet the increasing requirements of trade proved insufficient. In 1678, sixteen years previous to the foundation of the Bank of England, "proposals for a large model of a bank" were published; and, in 1683 a "national bank of credit" was brought forward. In a rare pamphlet entitled Bank Credit; or the usefullness and security of The Bank of Credit, examined in a dialogue between a Country Gentleman and a London Merchant, this idea is warmly defended. It was, however, simply to have one of credit, nor was it proposed to form a bank of deposit; although, by the following remark of the "Country Gentleman," it is evident that such an establishment on a secure scale was desirable. He says:
"Could they not without damage to themselves have secured the running cash of the nobility, gentry, merchants, and the traders of the city and kingdom, from all hazard, which would have been a great benefit to all concerned, who know not where to deposit their cash securely?"
After much trouble this bank of credit was established at Devonshire House, in Bishopsgate Street; its object, as we have related, being principally to advance money to tradesmen and manufacturers on the security of goods. Three-fourths of the value was lent on these, and bills for their amount given to the depositor. In order to render them current, an appointed number of persons in each trade was formed into a society to regulate commercial concerns. Any individual possessed of such bills might therefore obtain from this company goods or merchandise with as much ease as if he offered current coin.
The bank of credit does not appear to have flourished. The machinery was too complicated, and the risk of depreciation and the value of manufactures too great. It was next to impossible for such a company to exist after the Bank of England came with its low discount and free accommodations.
The wild spirit of speculation—that spirit which at various periods has created fearful crises in the commercial world—commenced in 1694. The fever which from time to time has flushed the mind of the moneyed man, and given a fierce excitement to the almost penniless adventurer, was then and in the following year in full operation. The great South Sea scheme in 1720 is ordinarily considered the earliest display of this reckless spirit. But a quarter of a century before, equal ingenuity and equal villany were exercised. Obscure men, whose sole capital was their enormous impudence, invented similar schemes, promised similar advantages, and used similar arts to entice the capitalists, which were employed with so much success at a later period.
The want of a great banking association was sure to be made a pretext. Two "land banks," and a "London bank" to be managed by the magistrates, with several other proposals, were therefore put promisingly forward. One of these was for another "bank of credit"; and a pamphlet published in 1694, under the title of England's Glory, will give some idea of its nature:
"If a person desires money to be returned at Coventry or York he pays it at the office in London, and receives a bill of credit after their form written upon marble paper, indenturewise, or on other as may be contrived to prevent counterfeiting." It was also proposed that the Government should share the profits; but neither of the projects was carried out.
The people neglected their calling. The legitimate desire of money grew into a fierce and fatal spirit of avarice. The arts so common at a later day were had recourse to. Project begat project, copper was to be turned into brass. Fortunes were to be realized by lotteries. The sea was to yield the treasures it had engulfed. Pearl-fisheries were to pay impossible percentages. "Lottery on lottery," says a writer of the day, "engine on engine, multiplied wonderfully. If any person got considerably by a happy and useful invention, others followed in spite of the patent, and published printed proposals, filling the daily newspapers therewith, thus going on to jostle one another, and abuse the credulity of the people."
Amid the many delusive and impracticable schemes were two important projects which have conferred great benefits on the English people. The first of these was the New River Company, the conception of Sir Hugh Middleton; the second was the corporation of the Bank of England. Nature and the great nations of antiquity suggested the former; the force and pressure of the times demanded the latter. It is from such demands that our chief institutions arise. By precept we may be taught their propriety; by example we may see their advantages. But until the necessity is personally felt they are sure to be neglected; and men wonder at their want of prescience and upbraid their shortsightedness when, with a sudden and sometimes startling success, the proposal they have slighted arises through the energy of another.
William Paterson, one of those men whose capacity is measured by failure or success, was the originator of the new bank; and it is perhaps unfortunate for his fame that no biography exists of this remarkable person. As the projector of the present Bank of Scotland, as the very soul of the celebrated Darien Company, and as the founder of the Bank of England, he deserves notice. A speculator as well as an adventurous man, he proved his belief in the practicability of the Darien scheme by accompanying that unfortunate expedition; and the formation of the Bank of England was the object of his desires and the subject of his thoughts for a long time previous to its establishment.
From that political change which had been so justly termed the "great revolution," to the establishment of the Bank of England, the new Government had been in constant difficulties; and the ministerial mode of procuring money was degrading to a great people. The duties in support of the war waged for liberty and Protestantism were required before they were levied. The city corporation was usually applied to for an advance; interest which varied probably according to the necessity of the borrower rather than to the real value of cash, was paid for the accommodation. The officers of the city went round in their turn to the separate wards, and borrowed in smaller amounts the money they had advanced to the state. Interest and premiums were thus often paid to the extent of 25 and even 30 per cent., in proportion to the exigency of the case, and the trader found his pocket filled at the expense of the public. Mr. Paterson gives a graphic description:
"The erection of this famous bank not only relieved the ministerial managers from their frequent processions into the city, for borrowing of money on the best and nearest public securities, at 10 or 12 per cent. per annum, but likewise gave life and currency to double or treble the value of its capital in other branches of the public credit, and so, under God, became the principal means of the success of the campaign in 1695; as, particularly, in reducing the important fortress of Namur, the first material step toward the peace concluded in 1679."
To remedy this evil the Bank of England was projected; and after much labor, William Paterson, aided by Mr. Michael Godfrey, procured from Government a consideration of the proposal. The King was abroad when the scheme was laid before the council, but the Queen occupied his place. Here considerable opposition occurred. Paterson found it more difficult to procure consent than he anticipated, and all those who feared an invasion of their interests united to stop its progress. The goldsmith foresaw the destruction of his monopoly, and he opposed it from self-interest. The Tory foresaw an easier mode of gaining money for the government he abhorred, with a firmer hold on the people for the monarch he despised, and his antagonism bore all the energy of political partisanship.
The usurer foresaw the destruction of his oppressive extortion, and he resisted it with the vigor of his craft. The rich man foresaw his profits diminished on government contracts, and he vehemently and virtuously opposed it on all public principles. Loud therefore were the outcries and great the exertions of all parties when the bill was first introduced to the House of Commons. But outcries are vain and exertions futile in opposition to a dominant and powerful party. A majority had been secured for the measure; and they who opposed its progress covered their defeat with vehement denunciations and vague prophecies. The prophets are in their graves, and their predictions only survive in the history of that establishment the downfall of which they proclaimed.
"The scheme of a national bank," says Smollett, "had been recommended to the ministry for the credit and security of the Government and the increase of trade and circulation. William Paterson was author of that which was carried into execution. When it was properly digested in the cabinet, and a majority in Parliament secured, it was introduced into the House of Commons. The supporters said it would rescue the nation out of the hands of extortioners; lower interest; raise the value of land; revive public credit; extend circulation; improve commerce; facilitate the annual supplies; and connect the people more closely with Government. The project was violently opposed by a strong party, who affirmed that it would become a monopoly, and engross the whole of the kingdom; that it might be employed to the worst purposes of arbitrary power; that it would weaken commerce by tempting people to withdraw their money from trade; that brokers and jobbers would prey on their fellow-creatures; encourage fraud and gambling; and corrupt the morals of the nation."
Previous governments had raised money with comparative ease because they were legitimate. That of William was felt to be precarious. It was feared by the money-lender that a similar convulsion to the one which had borne him so easily to the throne of a great nation might waft him back to the shores of that Holland he so dearly loved. Thus the very circumstances which made supplies necessary also made them scarce.
In addition to these things his person was unpopular. His phlegmatic Dutch habits contrasted unfavorably with those of the graceful Stuarts, whose evil qualities were forgotten in the remembrance of their showy characteristics. Neither his Dutch followers nor his Dutch manners were regarded with favor; and had it not been for his eminently kingly capacity, these things would have proved as dangerous to the throne as they tended to make the sovereign unpopular. In a pamphlet published a few years after the establishment of the new corporation is the following vivid picture of this monarch's government:
"In spite of the most glorious Prince and most vigilant General the world has ever seen, yet the enemy gained upon us every year; the funds were run down, the credit jobbed away in Change Alley, the King and his troops devoured by mechanics, and sold to usury, tallies lay bundled up like Bath fagots in the hands of brokers and stock-jobbers; the Parliament gave taxes, levied funds, but the loans were at the mercy of those men (the jobbers); and they showed their mercy, indeed, by devouring the King and the army, the Parliament, and indeed the whole nation; bringing their great Prince sometimes to that exigence through inexpressible extortions that were put upon him, that he has even gone into the fields without his equipage, nay even without his army; the regiments have been unclothed when the King had been in the field, and the willing, brave English spirits, eager to honor their country, and follow such a King, have marched even to battle without either stockings or shoes, while his servants have been every day working in Exchange Alley to get his men money of the stock-jobbers, even after all the horrible demands of discount have been allowed; and at last, scarce 50 per cent. of the money granted by Parliament has come into the hands of the Exchequer, and that late, too late for service, and by driblets, till the King has been tired with the delay."
This is a strange picture; beating even Mr. Paterson's account of the "processions in the city," and adds another convincing proof of the necessity which then existed for some establishment, capable of advancing money at a reasonable rate, on the security of Parliamentary grants.
The scheme proposed by William Paterson was too important not to meet with many enemies, and it appears from a pamphlet by Mr. Godfrey, the first deputy-governor, that "some pretended to dislike the bank only for fear it should disappoint their majesties of the supplies proposed to be raised." That "all the several companies of oppressors are strangely alarmed, and exclaim at the bank, and seemed to have joined in a confederacy against it." That "extortion, usury, and oppression were never so attacked as they are likely to be by the bank." That "others pretend the bank will join with the prince to make him absolute. That the concern have too good a bargain and that it would be prejudicial to trade." In Bishop Burners History of His Own Times we read an additional evidence of its necessity:
"It was visible that all the enemies of the Government set themselves against it with such a vehemence of zeal that this alone convinced all people that they saw the strength that our affairs would receive from it. I heard the Dutch often reckon the great advantage they had had from their banks, and they concluded that as long as England remained jealous of her Government, a bank could never be settled among us, nor gain credit among us to support itself, and upon that they judged that the superiority in trade must still be on their side."
All these varied interests were vainly exerted to prevent the bill from receiving the royal sanction; and the Bank of England, founded on the same principles which guarded the banks of Venice and Genoa, was incorporated by royal charter, dated July 27, 1694. From Mr. Gilbart's History and Principles of Banking we present the following brief analysis of this important act:
"The Act of Parliament by which the Bank was established is entitled 'An Act for granting to their majesties several duties upon tonnage of ships and vessels, and upon beer, ale, and other liquors, for securing certain recompenses and advantages in the said Act mentioned to such persons as shall voluntarily advance the sum of fifteen hundred thousand pounds toward carrying on the war with France.' After a variety of enactments relative to the duties upon tonnage of ships and vessels, and upon beer, ale, and other liquors, the Act authorizes the raising of 1,200,000 pounds by voluntary subscription, the subscribers to be formed into a corporation and be styled 'The Governor and Company of the Bank of England.'
"The sum of 300,000 pounds was also to be raised by subscription, and the contributors to receive instead annuities for one, two, or three lives. Toward the 1,200,000 pounds no one person was to subscribe more than 10,000 pounds before the first day of July, next ensuing, nor at any time more than 20,000 pounds. The Corporation were to lend their whole capital to the Government, for which they were to receive interest at the rate of 8 per cent. per annum, and 4000 pounds per annum for management; being 100,000 pounds per annum on the whole. The Corporation were not allowed to borrow or owe more than the amount of their capital, and if they did so the individual members became liable to the creditors in proportion to the amount of their stock. The Corporation were not to trade in any 'goods, wares, or merchandise whatever, but they were allowed to deal in bills of Exchange, gold or silver bullion, and to sell any goods, wares, or merchandise upon which they had advanced money, and which had not been redeemed within three months after the time agreed upon.' The whole of the subscription was filled in a few days; 25 per cent. paid down; and, as we have seen, a charter was issued on July 27, 1694, of which the following are the most important points:
"That the management and government of the corporation be admitted to the governor, deputy-governor, and twenty-four directors, who shall be elected between March 25th and April 25th of each year, from among the members of the company, duly qualified.
"That no dividend shall at any time be made by the said governor and company save only out of the interest, profit, or produce arising out of the said capital, stock, or fund, or by such dealing as is allowed by act of Parliament.
"They must be natural-born subjects of England, or naturalized subjects; they shall have in their own name and for their own use, severally, viz., the governor at least 4000 pounds, the deputy-governor 3000 pounds, and each director 2000 pounds of the capital stock of the said corporation.
"That thirteen or more of the said governors or directors (of which the governor or deputy-governor shall be always one) shall constitute a court of directors for the management of the affairs of the company, and for the appointment of all agents and servants which may be necessary, paying them such salaries as they may consider reasonable.
"Every elector must have, in his own name and for his own use, 500 pounds or more capital stock, and can only give one vote; he must, if required by any member present, take the oath of stock, or the declaration of stock if it be one of those people called Quakers.
"Four general courts to be held in every year in the months of September, December, April, and July. A general court may be summoned at any time, upon the requisition of nine proprietors duly qualified as electors.
"The majority of electors in general courts have the power to make and constitute by-laws and ordinances for the government of the corporation, provided that such by-laws and ordinances be not repugnant to the laws of the kingdom, and be confirmed and approved according to the statutes in such case made and provided."
When the payment was completed it was handed into the exchequer, and the bank procured from other quarters the funds which it required. It employed the same means which the bankers had done at the Exchange, with this difference, that the latter traded with personal property, while the bank traded with the deposits of their customers. It was from the circulation of a capital so formed that the bank derived its profits. It is evident, however, from the pamphlet of the first deputy-governor, that at this period they allowed interest to their depositors; and another writer, D'Avenant, makes it a subject of complaint: "It would be for the general good of trade if the bank were restrained from allowing interest for running cash; for the ease of having 3 and 4 per cent. without trouble must be a continual bar to industry."
First in Mercers' Hall, where they remained but a few months, and afterward in Grocers' Hall, since razed for the erection of a more stately structure, the Bank of England conducted its operations. Here, in one room, with almost primitive simplicity were gathered all who performed the duties of the establishment. "I looked into the great hall where the bank is kept," says the graceful essayist of the day, "and was not a little pleased to see the directors, secretaries, and clerks, with all the other members of that wealthy Corporation, ranged in their several stations according to the parts they hold in that just and regular economy." The secretaries and clerks altogether numbered but fifty-four, while their united salaries did not exceed four thousand three hundred fifty pounds. But the picture is a pleasant one, and though so much unlike present usages it is doubtful whether our forefathers did not derive more benefit from intimate association with and kindly feelings toward their inferiors than their descendants receive from the broad line of demarcation adopted at the present day.
The effect of the new corporation was almost immediately experienced. On August 8th, in the year of its establishment, the rate of discount on foreign bills was 6 per cent.; although this was the highest legal interest, yet much higher rates had been previously demanded. The name of William Paterson was not long upon the list of directors. The bank was established in 1694, and for that year only was its founder among those who managed its proceedings. The facts which led to his departure from the honorable post of director are difficult to collect; but it is not at all improbable that the character of Paterson was too speculative for those with whom he was joined in companionship. Sir John Dalrymple remarks, "The persons to whom he applied made use of his ideas, took the honor to themselves, were civil to him awhile, and neglected him afterward." Another writer says, "The friendless Scot was intrigued out of his post and out of the honors he had earned." These assertions must be received with caution; accusations against a great body are easily made; and it is rarely consistent with the dignity of the latter to reply; they are received as truths either because people are too idle to examine or because there is no opportunity of investigating them.
%COLONIZATION OF LOUISIANA%
A.D. 1699
CHARLES E.T. GAYARRE
It was not only as the beginning of what was to become an important State of the American Union, but also as a nucleus of occupation which led to an immense acquisition of territory by the United States, that the first settlement in Louisiana proved an event of great significance. Nothing in American history is of greater moment than the adding of the Louisiana Purchase (1803) to the United States domain. And the acquisition of that vast region, extending from New Orleans to British America, and westward from the Mississippi to the Rocky Mountains, had historic connection with the French settlement of 1699.
As early as 1630 the territory afterward known as Louisiana was mostly embraced in the Carolina grant by Charles I to Sir Robert Heath. It was taken into possession for the French King by La Salle in 1682, and named Louisiana in honor of Louis XIV. In 1698 Louis undertook to colonize the region of the lower Mississippi, and sent out an expedition under Pierre le Moyne, Sieur d'Iberville, a naval commander, who had served in the French wars of Canada, and aided in establishing French colonies in North America.
With two hundred colonists Iberville sailed (September 24, 1698) for the mouth of the Mississippi. Among his companions were his brothers, Sauvolle and Jean Baptiste le Moyne, Sieur de Bienville. The latter was long governor of Louisiana, and founded New Orleans. Of their arrival and subsequent operations in the lower Mississippi region, Gayarre, the Louisiana historian, gives a glowing and picturesque account.
On February 27, 1699, Iberville and Bienville reached the Mississippi. When they approached its mouth they were struck with the gloomy magnificence of the sight. As far as the eye could reach, nothing was to be seen but reeds which rose five or six feet above the waters in which they bathed their roots. They waved mournfully under the blast of the sharp wind of the north, shivering in its icy grasp, as it tumbled, rolled, and gambolled on the pliant surface. Multitudes of birds of strange appearance, with their elongated shapes so lean that they looked like metamorphosed ghosts, clothed in plumage, screamed in the air, as if they were scared of one another. There was something agonizing in their shrieks that was in harmony with the desolation of the place. On every side of the vessel, monsters of the deep and huge alligators heaved themselves up heavily from their native or favorite element, and, floating lazily on the turbid waters, seemed to gaze at the intruders.
Down the river, and rumbling over its bed, there came a sort of low, distant thunder. Was it the voice of the hoary Sire of Rivers, raised in anger at the prospect of his gigantic volume of waters being suddenly absorbed by one mightier than he? In their progress it was with great difficulty that the travellers could keep their bark free from those enormous rafts of trees which the Mississippi seemed to toss about in mad frolic. A poet would have thought that the great river, when departing from the altitude of its birthplace, and as it rushed down to the sea through three thousand miles, had, in anticipation of a contest which threatened the continuation of its existence, flung its broad arms right and left across the continent, and, uprooting all its forests, had hoarded them in its bed as missiles to hurl at the head of its mighty rival when they should meet and struggle for supremacy.
When night began to cast a darker hue on a landscape on which the imagination of Dante would have gloated there issued from that chaos of reeds such uncouth and unnatural sounds as would have saddened the gayest and appalled the most intrepid. Could this be the far-famed Mississippi, or was it not rather old Avernus? It was hideous indeed—but hideousness refined into sublimity, filling the soul with a sentiment of grandeur. Nothing daunted, the adventurers kept steadily on their course. They knew that through those dismal portals they were to arrive at the most magnificent country in the world; they knew that awful screen concealed loveliness itself. It was a coquettish freak of nature, when dealing with European curiosity, as it came eagerly bounding to the Atlantic wave, to herald it through an avenue so sombre as to cause the wonders of the great valley of the Mississippi to burst with tenfold more force upon the bewildered gaze of those who, by the endurance of so many perils and fatigues, were to merit admittance into its Eden.
It was a relief for the adventurers when, after having toiled up the river for ten days, they at last arrived at the village of the Bayagoulas. There they found a letter of Tonty[1] to La Salle, dated in 1685. The letter, or rather that "speaking bark" as the Indians called it, had been preserved with great reverence. Tonty, having been informed that La Salle was coming with a fleet from France to settle a colony on the banks of the Mississippi, had not hesitated to set off from the northern lakes, with twenty Canadians and thirty Indians, and to come down to the Balize to meet his friend, who had failed to make out the mouth of the Mississippi, and had been landed by Beaujeu on the shores of Texas. After having waited for some time, and ignorant of what had happened, Tonty, with the same indifference to fatigues and dangers of an appalling nature, retraced his way back, leaving a letter to La Salle to inform him of his disappointment. Is there not something extremely romantic in the characters of the men of that epoch? Here is Tonty undertaking, with the most heroic unconcern, a journey of nearly three thousand miles, through such difficulties as it is easy for us to imagine, and leaving a letter to La Salle, as a proof of his visit, in the same way that one would, in these degenerate days of effeminacy, leave a card at a neighbor's house.
[Footnote 1: Henry de Tonty was an Italian explorer who accompanied La Salle in his descent of the Mississippi (1681-1682).—ED.]
The French extended their explorations up to the mouth of the Red River. As they proceeded through that virgin country, with what interest they must have examined every object that met their eyes, and listened to the traditions concerning De Soto,[2] and the more recent stories of the Indians on La Salle and the iron-handed Tonty! A coat of mail which was presented as having belonged to the Spaniards, and vestiges of their encampment on the Red River, confirmed the French in the belief that there was much of truth in the recitals of the Indians.
[Footnote 2: De Soto explored this region in 1541.—ED.]
On their return from the mouth of the Red River the two brothers separated when they arrived at Bayou Manchac. Bienville was ordered to go down the river to the French fleet, to give information of what they had seen and heard. Iberville went through Bayou Manchac to those lakes which are known under the names of Pontchartrain and Maurepas. Louisiana had been named from a king: was it not in keeping that those lakes should be called after ministers?
From the Bay of St. Louis, Iberville returned to his fleet, where, after consultation, he determined to make a settlement at the Bay of Biloxi. On the east side, at the mouth of the bay, as it were, there is a slight swelling of the shore, about four acres square, sloping gently to the woods in the background, and on the bay. Thus this position was fortified by nature, and the French skilfully availed themselves of these advantages. The weakest point, which was on the side of the forest, they strengthened with more care than the rest, by connecting with a strong intrenchment the two ravines, which ran to the bay in a parallel line to each other. The fort was constructed with four bastions, and was armed with twelve pieces of artillery. When standing on one of the bastions which faced the bay, the spectator enjoyed a beautiful prospect. On the right, the bay could be seen running into the land for miles, and on the left stood Deer Island, concealing almost entirely the broad expanses of water which lay beyond. It was visible only at the two extreme points of the island, which both, at that distance, appeared to be within a close proximity of the mainland. No better description can be given than to say that the bay looked like a funnel to which the island was the lid, not fitting closely, however, but leaving apertures for egress and ingress. The snugness of the locality had tempted the French, and had induced them to choose it as the most favorable spot, at the time, for colonization. Sauvolle was put in command of the fort, and Bienville, the youngest of the three brothers, was appointed his lieutenant.
A few huts having been erected round the fort, the settlers began to clear the land, in order to bring it into cultivation. Iberville having furnished them with all the necessary provisions, utensils, and other supplies, prepared to sail for France. How deeply affecting must have been the parting scene! How many casualties might prevent those who remained in this unknown region from ever seeing again those who, through the perils of such a long voyage, had to return to their home! What crowding emotions must have filled up the breast of Sauvolle, Bienville, and their handful of companions, when they beheld the sails of Iberville's fleet fading in the distance, like transient clouds! Well may it be supposed that it seemed to them as if their very souls had been carried away, and that they felt a momentary sinking of the heart when they found themselves abandoned, and necessarily left to their own resources, scanty as they were, on a patch of land between the ocean on one side and on the other a wilderness, which fancy peopled with every sort of terrors. The sense of their loneliness fell upon them like the gloom of night, darkening their hopes and filling their hearts with dismal apprehensions.
But as the country had been ordered to be explored, Sauvolle availed himself of that circumstance to refresh the minds of his men by the excitement of an expedition into the interior of the continent. He therefore hastened to despatch most of them with Bienville, who, with a chief of the Bayagoulas for his guide, went to visit the Colapissas. They inhabited the northern shore of Lake Pontchartrain, and their domains embraced the sites now occupied by Lewisburg, Mandeville, and Fontainebleau. That tribe numbered three hundred warriors, who, in their distant hunting-excursions, had been engaged in frequent skirmishes with some of the British colonists in South Carolina. When the French landed, they were informed that, two days previous, the village of the Colapissas had been attacked by a party of two hundred Chickasaws, headed by two Englishmen. These were the first tidings which the French had of their old rivals, and which proved to be the harbinger of the incessant struggle which was to continue for more than a century between the two races, and to terminate by the permanent occupation of Louisiana by the Anglo-Saxon.
Bienville returned to the fort to convey this important information to Sauvolle. After having rested there for several days, he went to the Bay of Pascagoulas, and ascended the river which bears that name, and the banks of which were tenanted by a branch of the Biloxis, and by the Moelobites. Encouraged by the friendly reception which he met everywhere, he ventured farther, and paid a visit to the Mobilians, who entertained him with great hospitality. Bienville found them much reduced from what they had been, and listened with eagerness to the many tales of their former power, which had been rapidly declining since the crushing blow they had received from De Soto.
When Iberville ascended the Mississippi the first time, he had remarked Bayou Plaquemines and Bayou Chetimachas. The one he called after the fruit of certain trees which appeared to have exclusive possession of its banks, and the other after the name of the Indians who dwelt in the vicinity. He had ordered them to be explored, and the indefatigable Bienville, on his return from Mobile, obeyed the instructions left to his brother, and made an accurate survey of these two bayous. When he was coming down the river, at the distance of about eighteen miles below the site where New Orleans now stands, he met an English vessel of sixteen guns, under the command of Captain Bar. The English captain informed the French that he was examining the banks of the river, with the intention of selecting a spot for the foundation of a colony. Bienville told him that Louisiana was a dependency of Canada; that the French had already made several establishments on the Mississippi; and he appealed, in confirmation of his assertions, to their own presence in the river, in such small boats, which evidently proved the existence of some settlement close at hand. The Englishman believed Bienville, and sailed back. Where this occurrence took place the river makes a considerable bend, and it was from the circumstance which I have related that the spot received the appellation of the "English Turn"—a name which it has retained to the present day. It was not far from that place, the atmosphere of which appears to be fraught with some malignant spell hostile to the sons of Albion, that the English, who were outwitted by Bienville in 1699, met with a signal defeat in battle from the Americans in 1815. The diplomacy of Bienville and the military genius of Jackson proved to them equally fatal when they aimed at the possession of Louisiana.
Since the exploring expedition of La Salle down the Mississippi, Canadian hunters, whose habits and intrepidity Fenimore Cooper has so graphically described in the character of Leather-Stocking, used to extend their roving excursions to the banks of that river; and those holy missionaries of the Church, who, as the pioneers of religion, have filled the New World with their sufferings, and whose incredible deeds in the service of God afford so many materials for the most interesting of books, had come in advance of the pickaxe of the settler, and had domiciliated themselves among the tribes who lived near the waters of the Mississippi. One of them, Father Montigny, was residing with the Tensas, within the territory of the present parish of Tensas, in the State of Louisiana, and another, Father Davion, was the pastor of the Yazoos, in the present State of Mississippi.
Such were the two visitors who in 1699 appeared before Sauvolle, at the fort of Biloxi, to relieve the monotony of his cheerless existence, and to encourage him in his colonizing enterprise. Their visit, however, was not of long duration, and they soon returned to discharge the duties of their sacred mission.
Iberville had been gone for several months, and the year was drawing to a close without any tidings of him. A deeper gloom had settled over the little colony at Biloxi, when, on December 7th, some signal-guns were heard at sea, and the grateful sound came booming over the waters, spreading joy in every breast. There was not one who was not almost oppressed with the intensity of his feelings. At last, friends were coming, bringing relief to the body and to the soul! Every colonist hastily abandoned his occupation of the moment and ran to the shore. The soldier himself, in the eagerness of expectation, left his post of duty, and rushed to the parapet which overlooked the bay. Presently several vessels hove in sight, bearing the white flag of France, and, approaching as near as the shallowness of the beach permitted, folded their pinions, like water-fowl seeking repose on the crest of the billows.
It was Iberville returning with the news that, on his representations, Sauvolle had been appointed by the King governor of Louisiana; Bienville, lieutenant-governor; and Boisbriant, commander of the fort at Biloxi, with the grade of major. Iberville, having been informed by Bienville of the attempt of the English to make a settlement on the banks of the Mississippi, and of the manner in which it had been foiled, resolved to take precautionary measures against the repetition of any similar attempt. Without loss of time he departed with Bienville, on January 16, 1700, and running up the river, he constructed a small fort, on the first solid ground which he met, and which is said to have been at a distance of fifty-four miles from its mouth.
When so engaged, the two brothers one day saw a canoe rapidly sweeping down the river and approaching the spot where they stood. It was occupied by eight men, six of whom were rowers, the seventh was the steersman, and the eighth, from his appearance, was evidently of a superior order to that of his companions, and the commander of the party. Well may it be imagined what greeting the stranger received, when leaping on shore he made himself known as the Chevalier de Tonty, who had again heard of the establishment of a colony in Louisiana, and who, for the second time, had come to see if there was any truth in the report. With what emotion did Iberville and Bienville fold in their arms the faithful companion and friend of La Salle, of whom they had heard so many wonderful tales from the Indians, to whom he was so well known under the name of "Iron Hand"! With what admiration they looked at his person, and with what increasing interest they listened to his long recitals of what he had done and had seen on that broad continent, the threshold of which they had hardly passed!
After having rested three days at the fort, the indefatigable Tonty reascended the Mississippi, with Iberville and Bienville, and finally parted with them at Natchez. Iberville was so much pleased with that part of the bank of the river where now exists the city of Natchez that he marked it down as a most eligible spot for a town, of which he drew the plan, and which he called Rosalie, after the maiden name of the Countess Pontchartrain, the wife of the chancellor. He then returned to the new fort he was erecting on the Mississippi, and Bienville went to explore the country of the Yatasses, of the Natchitoches, and of the Ouachitas. What romance can be more agreeable to the imagination than to accompany Iberville and Bienville in their wild explorations, and to compare the state of the country in their time with what it is in our days?
When the French were at Natchez they were struck with horror at an occurrence, too clearly demonstrating the fierceness of disposition of that tribe which was destined in after years to become celebrated in the history of Louisiana. One of their temples having been set on fire by lightning, a hideous spectacle presented itself to the Europeans. The tumultuous rush of the Indians; the infernal howlings and lamentations of the men, women, and children; the unearthly vociferations of the priests, their fantastic dances and ceremonies around the burning edifice; the demoniac fury with which mothers rushed to the fatal spot, and, with the piercing cries and gesticulations of maniacs, flung their new-born babes into the flames to pacify their irritated deity—the increasing anger of the heavens—blackening with the impending storm, the lurid flashes of lightning darting as it were in mutual enmity from the clashing clouds—the low, distant growling of the coming tempest—the long column of smoke and fire shooting upward from the funeral pyre, and looking like one of the gigantic torches of Pandemonium—the war of the elements combined with the worst effects of frenzied superstition of man—the suddenness and strangeness of the awful scene—all the circumstances produced such an impression upon the French as to deprive them for a moment of the powers of volition and action. Rooted to the ground, they stood aghast with astonishment and indignation at the appalling scene. Was it a dream—a wild delirium of the mind? But no—the monstrous reality of the vision was but too apparent; and they threw themselves among the Indians, supplicating them to cease their horrible sacrifice to their gods, and joining threats to their supplications. Owing to this intervention, and perhaps because a sufficient number of victims had been offered, the priests gave the signal of retreat, and the Indians slowly withdrew from the accursed spot. Such was the aspect under which the Natchez showed themselves, for the first time, to their visitors: it was ominous presage for the future.
After these explorations Iberville departed again for France, to solicit additional assistance from the government, and left Bienville in command of the new fort on the Mississippi. It was very hard for the two brothers, Sauvolle and Bienville, to be thus separated, when they stood so much in need of each other's countenance, to breast the difficulties that sprung up around them with a luxuriance which they seemed to borrow from the vegetation of the country. The distance between the Mississippi and Biloxi was not so easily overcome in those days as in ours, and the means which the two brothers had of communing together were very scanty and uncertain.
Sauvolle died August 22,1701, and Louisiana remained under the sole charge of Bienville, who, though very young, was fully equal to meet that emergency, by the maturity of his mind and by his other qualifications. He had hardly consigned his brother to the tomb when Iberville returned with two ships of the line and a brig laden with troops and provisions.
According to Iberville's orders, and in conformity with the King's instructions, Bienville left Boisbriant, his cousin, with twenty men, at the old fort of Biloxi, and transported the principal seat of the colony to the western side of the river Mobile, not far from the spot where now stands the city of Mobile. Near the mouth of that river there is an island, which the French had called Massacre Island from the great quantity of human bones which they found bleaching on its shores. It was evident that there some awful tragedy had been acted; but Tradition, when interrogated, laid her choppy finger upon her skinny lips, and answered not.
This uncertainty, giving a free scope to the imagination, shrouded the place with a higher degree of horror and with a deeper hue of fantastical gloom. It looked like the favorite ballroom of the witches of hell. The wind sighed so mournfully through the shrivelled-up pines, those vampire heads seemed incessantly to bow to some invisible and grisly visitors: the footsteps of the stranger emitted such an awful and supernatural sound, when trampling on the skulls which strewed his path, that it was impossible for the coldest imagination not to labor under some crude and ill-defined apprehension. Verily, the weird sisters could not have chosen a fitter abode. Nevertheless, the French, supported by their mercurial temperament, were not deterred from forming an establishment on that sepulchral island, which, they thought, afforded some facilities for their transatlantic communications.
In 1703 war had broken out between Great Britain, France, and Spain; and Iberville, a distinguished officer of the French navy, was engaged in expeditions that kept him away from the colony. It did not cease, however, to occupy his thoughts, and had become clothed, in his eye, with a sort of family interest. Louisiana was thus left, for some time, to her scanty resources; but, weak as she was, she gave early proofs of that generous spirit which has ever since animated her; and on the towns of Pensacola and St. Augustine, then in possession of the Spaniards, being threatened with an invasion by the English of South Carolina, she sent to her neighbors what help she could in men, ammunition, and supplies of all sorts. It was the more meritorious as it was the obolus of the poor!
The year 1703 slowly rolled by and gave way to 1704. Still, nothing was heard from the parent country. There seemed to be an impassable barrier between the old and the new continent. The milk which flowed from the motherly breast of France could no longer reach the parched lips of her new-born infant; and famine began to pinch the colonists, who scattered themselves all along the coast, to live by fishing. They were reduced to the veriest extremity of misery, and despair had settled in every bosom, in spite of the encouragements of Bienville, who displayed the most manly fortitude amid all the trials to which he was subjected, when suddenly a vessel made its appearance. The colonists rushed to the shore with wild anxiety, but their exultation was greatly diminished when, on the nearer approach of the moving speck, they recognized the Spanish instead of the French flag. It was relief, however, coming to them, and proffered by a friendly hand. It was a return made by the governor of Pensacola for the kindness he had experienced the year previous. Thus the debt of gratitude was paid: it was a practical lesson. Where the seeds of charity are cast, there springs the harvest in time of need. |
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