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to my brother and myself. Mr. Richardson and Leonard fell to conversing about the state of the Chupecial privilege to do so. November 19. Leonard and Mr. Richardson, talking upon the matter oled by this account, I begged him to send for Leonard, which he did, and, when he did come into they and friends, by running out into heresies. Leonard said he was sorry to give trouble to any one,ginations. I do not so understand them, said Leonard; I think they do diligently study the Scriptu Do you speak of Margaret Brewster? asked Leonard, his face all a-crimson, and his lip quiverinr my brother's sake. November 28, 1678. Leonard hath left Mr. Ward, and given up the thought en of, she could approve with all her heart. Leonard goes back with us to-morrow to Newbury, so I wson had just told him how matters stood with Leonard, and that he was greatly rejoiced to hear of am more and more confirmed in the belief that Leonard hath not done unwisely in this matter, and do
in the ocean's arms to find its urn: Thus hath the heir to many thousands born Been in an instant from the mother torn; Even thus thy infant cheek begins to pale, And thy supporters through great losses fail. This is the Prologue to thy future woe— The Epilogue no mortal yet can know. Mr. Ward was much pleased with the verses, saying that they would do honor to any writer. Rebecca thought the lines concerning the long grace at meat happy, and said she was minded of the wife of the good Mr. Ames, who prided herself on her skill in housewifery and cookery; and on one occasion, seeing a nice pair of roasted fowls growing cold under her husband's long grace, was fain to jog his elbow, telling him that if he did not stop soon, she feared they would have small occasion for thankfulness for their spoiled dinner. Mr. Ward said he was once travelling in company with Mr. Phillips of Rowley, and Mr. Parker of Newbury, and stopping all night at a poor house near the sea-shore, the woman ther
and young Kathleen. Oh give to me this darling child, And take my purse of gold: “ ‘Nay, not by me,’ her master said, ” Shall sweet Kathleen be sold. We loved her in the place of one The Lord hath early ta'en; But since her heart's in Ireland, We give her back again! “ Oh for that same the saints in heaven For his poor soul shall pray, And Holy Mother wash with tears His heresies away. Sure now they dwell in Ireland, As you go up Claremore Ye'll see their castle looking down The pleasant Galway shore. And the old lord's wife is dead and gone, And a happy man is he, For he sits beside his own Kathleen, With her darling on his knee. March 27, 1679. Spent the afternoon and evening yesterday at Mr. Mather's, with uncle and aunt, Rebecca and Sir Thomas, and Mr. Torrey of Weymouth, and his wife; Mr. Thacher, the minister of the South Meeting, and Major Simon Willard of Concord, being present also. There was much discourse of certain Antinomians, whose loose and scandalous tea
Henry Dow (search for this): chapter 2
ch in town, and that she knew where he dwelt, and who they are, and that thirteen years ago she knew one bewitched as Goodwife Marston's child was, and she was sure that party was bewitched, for it told her so, and it was changed from a man to an ape, as Goody Marston's child was, and she had prayed this thirteen year that God would discover that witch. And further the deponent saith not. Taken on oath before the Commissioners of Hampton, the 8th of the 2nd mo., 1656. William Fuller. Henry Dow. Vera copea: Thos. Bradbury, Recorder. Sworn before, the 4th of September, 1656, Edward Rawson. Thomas Philbrick testifieth that Goody Cole told him that if any of his calves did eat of her grass, she hoped it would poison them; and it fell out that one never came home again, and the other coming home died soon after. Henry Morelton's wife and Goodwife Sleeper depose that, talking about Goody Cole and Marston's child, they did hear a great scraping against the boards of the
been to Boston on business, his father having great fisheries in the river as well as the sea. He is, I can perceive, a great admirer of my cousin, and indeed not without reason; for she hath in mind and person, in her graceful carriage and pleasant discourse, and a certain not unpleasing waywardness, as of a merry child, that which makes her company sought of all. Our route the first day lay through the woods and along the borders of great marshes and meadows on the seas shore. We came to Linne at night, and stopped at the house of a kinsman of Robert Pike's,—a man of some substance and note in that settlement. We were tired and hungry, and the supper of warm Indian bread and sweet milk relished quite as well as any I ever ate in the Old Country. The next day we went on over a rough road to Wenham, through Salem, which is quite a pleasant town. Here we stopped until this morning, when we again mounted our horses, and reached this place, after a smart ride of three hours. The wea
John Norton (search for this): chapter 2
fell upon her heart. Presently Mr. Broadstreet came home, bringing with him the minister, Mr. John Norton. They sat down in the chamber, and for some little time there was scarce a word spoken. Aat the gallows, but seemed to think herself sure of heaven, heeding in no wise the warnings of Mr. Norton, and other godly people. Did she rail at, or cry out against any? asked his wife. Nay, not nd I pray that the death of that poor misled creature may not rest heavy upon us. Hereupon Mr. Norton lifted up his head, which had been bowed down upon his hand; and I shall never forget how his ed? asked Madam Broadstreet. Death is a great thing. It is appointed unto all to die, said Mr. Norton, and after death cometh the judgment. The death of these poor bodies is a bitter thing, but tooked over the testimony against the woman, and neither did feel altogether satisfied with it. Mr. Norton adviseth for the hanging; but Mr. Willard, who has seen much of the woman, and hath prayed wit
cent, and the agent of Mr. Edmund Andross, of the Duke of York's Territory, is now in this place, being entertained by Mr. Godfrey, the late Deputy-Governor. He brought a letter for me from Aunt Rawson, whom he met in Boston. He is a learned, serided to the Court, it proved to be a Latin Treatise, by a famous Papist, intituled, The Imitation of Christ. Hereupon, Mr. Godfrey asked if there was aught evil in the book. The minister said it was written by a monk, and was full of heresy, favoring both the Quakers and the Papists; but Mr. Godfrey told him it had been rendered into the English tongue, and printed some years before in the Massachusetts Bay; and asked him if he did accuse such men as Mr. Cotton and Mr. Wilson, and the pious mt he would not have said that much to the Court to save his life, inasmuch as he did deny its right of arraigning him. Mr. Godfrey says the treatment whereof he complains is but a sample of what the people hereaway are to look for from the Massachus
a worthy gentleman and a true friend to the liberties of the Colony; and he asked Rebecca to read some ingenious verses writ by him in one of his almanacs, which she had copied not long ago, wherein he compareth New England to a goodly tree or plant. Whereupon, Rebecca read them as followeth: A skilful husbandman he was, who brought This matchless plant from far, and here hath sought A place to set it ill; and for its sake The wilderness a pleasant land doth make. With pleasant aspect, Phoebus smiles upon The tender buds and blooms that hang thereon; At this tree's root Astrea sits and sings, And waters it, whence upright Justice springs, Which yearly shoots forth laws and liberties That no man's will or wit may tyrannize. Those birds of prey that sometime have oppressed And stained the country with their filthy nest, Justice abhors, and one day hopes to find A way to make all promise-breakers grind. On this tree's top hangs pleasant Liberty, Not seen in Austria, France, Spain, I
riding up to the door; and on their coming in, we found them to be the young Doctor Clark, of Boston, a son of the old Newbury physician, and a Doctor Benjamin Thompson, of Roxbury, who I hear is not a little famous for his ingenious poetry and wior their spoiled dinner. Mr. Ward said he was once travelling in company with Mr. Phillips of Rowley, and Mr. Parker of Newbury, and stopping all night at a poor house near the sea-shore, the woman thereof brought into the room for their supper a gl respects save the one she had spoken of, she could approve with all her heart. Leonard goes back with us to-morrow to Newbury, so I shall have a chance of knowing how matters stand with him. The thought of his marrying a Quaker would have been exant in the sight of God. January 23. The weather is bitter cold, and a great snow on the ground. By a letter from Newbury, brought me by Mr. Sewall, who hath just returned from that place, I hear that Goodwife Morse hath been bound for trial
ar heard her then it blessed her, and when the eye saw her it gave witness to her: because she delivered the poor that cried, and the fatherless, and him that had none to help him. The blessing of him that was ready toperish came upon her; and she caused the widow's heart to sing for joy. [Here the diary ends somewhat abruptly. It appears as if some of the last pages have been lost. Appended to the manuscript I find a note, in another handwriting, signed R. G., dated at Malton Rectory, 1747. One Rawson Grindall, M. A., was curate of Malton at this date, and the initials are undoubtedly his. The sad sequel to the history of the fair Rebecca Rawson is confirmed by papers now on file in the State-House at Boston, in which she is spoken of as one of the most beautiful, polite, and accomplished young ladies in Boston. —Editor.] These papers of my honored and pious grandmother, Margaret Smith, who, soon after her return from New England, married her cousin, Oliver Grindall, Esq.,
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