indictments tried by the Supreme Court at Salem, only three were followed by a verdict of guilty. Spectre evidence was excluded; reflection took the place of precipitation; reason and common-sense began to reassert their sway. Yielding to the dictates of humanity, Governor Phips reprieved the three condemned persons and ordered the discharge of all others held for trial. Such a jail delivery had never been seen in New England before. In Middlesex several persons had been accused and imprisoned. When the bloody assize transferred its sittings from Salem to Charlestown, all these poor prisoners were acquitted. Here, too, the judges learned that the executive clemency had rescued those who were awaiting the death sentence at their hands. It is painful to record, in this connection, that Stoughton, the chief justice, left the bench in anger when the action of the governor was made known in court. Others of the judges were dissatisfied; but no juries could now be empanelled to condemn for witchcraft; the people were appalled at the thought of so much innocent blood already shed, and judges and ministers, who had given their high sanction to the delirium, one by one abandoned the wretched superstition which had cast its spell over their judgment and their humanity. Of all the tragedies enacted in New England this was the heaviest. It is the most difficult to explain. Even at this distance of time we approach the subject with feelings of horror and amazement, heightened, if possible, by the reflection that we can neither comprehend the origin nor development of this monstrous psychological phenomenon, nor appreciate at its true value the death-like terror it inspired in all ranks of society. The Abenakis and their allies were still troublesome, but having met with reverses sued for peace in 1693. A strong fortress had been built, at Pemaquid, in the heart of the enemy's country, by Sir William Phips, designed to keep these Indians in subjection. The truce lasted, however, only a twelvemonth, at the end of which Madockawando led a band of warriors to the Piscataqua, who fell upon Durham, then called Oyster River. After committing great slaughter here a detachment, under the Abenaki chief, Taxous, crossed the Merrimack, and on the 27th of July, 1694, swooped down upon the unsuspecting inhabitants of Groton in broad day. In this foray the Indians killed twenty-two and captured thirteen persons. Although the surprise was complete, a gallant defence was made at Lakin's garrison. Two nephews of Taxous were shot down at his side, and his own garments riddled with bullets. The governor immediately issued a proclamation, which was circulated among the Eastern Indians, demanding the speedy return of all English captives. His threatening language was defiantly retorted by those Indians, and he was told, "That which thou sayest to us, the same will we say to thee." In consequence of charges of maladministration, Phips had been recalled. He died in England February, 1694-95, when Stoughton, the deputy, became acting governor, filling the office until the arrival of the Earl of Bellomont in May, 1699. During his administration Middlesex was twice invaded. The comparative quiet of the early months of 1695 was broken again in August by a sudden descent upon Billerica, in which fifteen persons were killed or taken prisoners. At this time, too, rumors of a powerful armament, preparing in France for an attack on Boston, spread consternation throughout the colony. Lancaster had suffered in 1692, and again in 1695. In September, 1697, the savage foemen again entered the devoted town. Believing the garrison had been warned, they did not venture to attack it; but succeeded in killing twenty-one, wounding two, and capturing six of the inhabitants. Rev. John Whiting, the pastor, fell bravely fighting against overwhelming odds. The Peace of Ryswick was proclaimed at Boston December 10, 1697. War, however, continued with the Indians a short time longer. In July a war-party took three or four prisoners at Hatfield, but the French no longer daring to afford open assistance to their old allies, peace was again concluded with them, and the colony was allowed a little breathing-time in which to prepare for future conflicts. The year of peace is also memorable for the death of Governor Bradstreet, whose early association with Middlesex has been duly noticed. In 1685 a London bookseller named John Dunton visited New England. His account of what he saw, or rather what he did, has been published in his Life and Errors. Dunton was a milksop whose weak head was turned by every pretty woman he met. Much of his letters from New England is occupied by the subject uppermost in his mind, and the little he records in connection with his rambles to Charlestown, Medford, Cambridge, etc., is not worth transcribing. The relation of a visit to Natick, on a lecture-day, in order to gratify his curiosity respecting Eliot's converted Indians, is entertaining, but too lengthy for our purpose. He tells us that Medford was a small village, Cambridge opulent, handsome, outdoing Boston itself; and that Harvard had then "turned out " one hundred and twenty-two ministers of the Gospel, one third of whom had sought employment and a home in England. XII. FROM THE BEGINNING OF QUEEN ANNE'S WAR TO THE FALL OF LOUISBURG. NOTWITHSTANDING its frequent mutilation at the hands of the savages, Middlesex continued to increase in wealth and in population. The towns devastated in Philip's War were, one by one, rebuilt and reoccupied by their inhabitants. New ones were being formed. In 1683 Stow was incorporated. In 1673 Cambridge Village was constituted a precinct empowered to elect a constable and three selectmen to order its prudential affairs; but it still remained, in other respects, part of Cambridge. Dissatisfied with this settlement of a long controversy, the village, in 1678, petitioned for incorporation as a town. Its prayer was not granted until January, 1687, when an order of Andros' council consummated the separation. In 1691 Cambridge Village received the name of Newtown, thus reassuming and perpetuating its ancient designation. The Earl of Bellomont left Boston in May, 1700, for New York, the government of which was also included in his commission. He soon after died there. His fourteen months' service in Massachusetts was generally acceptable. He was the first nobleman who had occupied the chair of governor, and he was able to maintain the distinction derived from exalted rank, by his affable manners, his conciliatory disposition, and his generally conservative views. He managed the susceptibilities of the old-charter irreconcilables with great tact, and he exhibited becoming respect for the religious traditions and observances of the people he was sent to govern. Under his administration the bands of corsairs so long infesting our coasts were broken up. Kidd, the most notorious and audacious among them, was taken in the streets of Boston, sent to England, and executed. 2 The earl was succeeded by Joseph Dudley, formerly president during the interim occasioned by. vacating the old charter, who had been imprisoned at Boston when the revolution of 1689 broke out. Before Dudley's arrival from England Governor Stoughton died. Intelligence of the breaking out of the war of the Spanish Succession also reached New England while the new governor was on his way. King James had died in exile, and now his successor to the crown of England, at the command of a more dread sovereign, laid down the sceptre he had wrested from his fatherin-law's feeble hands. Anne of Denmark ascended the throne. War with France meant war with the Indians. The note of preparation and alarm which heralded what was popularly known as Queen, Anne's War was hurriedly sounded. This, like King William's War, lasted just ten years, The tribes of the Saco, Androscoggin, Kennebeck, and Penobscot, armed, equipped, and led by Canadian officers, began desolating the few remaining settlements in Maine, in August, 1703. The western frontier of the province was also assailed. In February, 1703 – 04, Deerfield was attacked by a strong body of French and Indians commanded by De Rouville. The town was destroyed, with the loss of forty of its inhabitants killed and a hundred taken captive. The year 1704 was prolific of events. This year Church, the Plymouth captain, made his expedition to Acadia in the hope of dealing a crushing blow to the enemy in that quarter, and thus to divert them from attacking our own frontier. The expedition promised much but accomplished little, not from any want of courage or disposition on the part of the commander, but it found no consid erable forces of the enemy to engage. Church re-occurred in 1711. In June a large land and naval turned home with little addition to the renown force designed for the reduction of Quebec arrived gained in Philip's War. In April the first newspaper in America made its appearance, at Boston. This year, too, William Hubbard, the historian, died. He died poor, and even the place of his burial is unknown. Returning to our narrative of the war, a vigorous attack was made upon Lancaster, on the last day of July, which was stubbornly resisted. Captain John Tyng of Dunstable, reinforced by Captain How of Marlborough, fought with great gallantry; but the superior numbers of the enemy compelled our soldiers to take refuge in the garrisons, thus leaving the town, in a measure, unprotected. The meeting-house and six dwellings were fired, and destroyed, after which the enemy retreated. Several of the inhabitants of the frontier towns of Middlesex were killed during this incursion. The year 1705 has fewer occurrences to chronicle; but in the spring of 1706 Colonel Peter Schuyler of Albany warned the Massachusetts authorities that a formidable force of the enemy had marched from Canada for New England. They appeared at Dunstable on the 3d of July. The soldiers of Weld's garrison having neglected their guard, the savages gained an entrance unopposed, but were finally driven out, after a furious mêlée in which half the soldiers of the garrison fell. The Indians then proceeded to Galusha's garrison, which they captured and burnt. Chelmsford, Groton, and Sudbury were all alarmed. During this foray a small party of the enemy came to Reading, where they killed a woman and three children. At Groton two soldiers were killed and one taken prisoner while on their way to meeting. Groton and Marlborough were also harassed the next year by prowling bands who killed one inhabitant in each place. The war continued to draw heavily upon the resources of Massachusetts, with few successes to compensate for the perpetual alarm in which her remote settlements were kept. Early in October, 1710, our forces under General Nicholson recovered Port Royal. In July a predatory party of warriors shot the post-rider while on his way from Marlborough to Hadley. They then assailed Chelmsford. While prowling in the neighborhood the savages mortally wounded the brave Major Tyng, who had been one of the first to receive the bounty offered by the province, in this war, for scalps. The crowning disaster of this disastrous war at Boston from England. The army was commanded by Brigadier-General Hill, the fleet, by Sir Hovenden Walker. The troops were Marlborough's veterans, and numbered five thousand men. The regiments were Kirke's (2d), Queen's Own (4th), Hill's (11th), Desney's (36th), Windress's (37th), Clayton's and Kane's (disbanded' in 1713), and Churchill's marines. In addition to these were Walton's and Vetch's provincial regiments, which increased the whole number to about seven thousand. These troops were landed, and encamped on Noddle's Island, now East Boston, which was covered by their tents and enlivened by the stirring strains of martial music. It was by far the most splendid military pageant New England had seen. In the basin which formed the usual anchorage rode fifteen men-of-war and forty transports. On the 20th of July the troops were embarked, and on the 30th the whole fleet put to sea. A land force, marching from Albany upon Montreal under Colonel Nicholson, was to co-operate with the attack on Quebec. In appearance everything promised a prosperous issue to the undertaking; but when the fleet entered the St. Lawrence it encountered violent gales which drove nine transports on the rocks, with the loss of a thousand soldiers. The expedition was then abandoned, and this magnificent armament, which the queen had meant should inflict signal chastisement on French power in America, precipitately quitted the St. Lawrence without having fired a shot. Quebec was again saved. The Peace of Utrecht, in 1713, brought with it a cessation of Indian hostilities. At this time it was estimated that six thousand young men, the very flower of the colony, had been killed in battle, or died by disease contracted in the service, since 1675. The short and terrible struggle with Philip, the abortive winter campaign of Sir Edmund Andros, the ten years' conflict ending with the Peace of Ryswick, the decade of bloodshed concluded at Utrecht, constituted nearly a quarter of a century of warfare the most destructive, the most deadly. Moreover, the province finances were in a really deplorable condition; but by the continued issue of paper money the extraordinary expenses of war had been met and the inevitable crash, for a time, postponed. In considering the heavy drain upon the resources of Massachusetts, her blood, and treasure, the wonder is that, in the | to destroy it. In August, 1724, an expedition asface of such difficulties, alone, and almost singlehanded, she maintained her lofty and undaunted mien, and exhibited such remarkable capacity for resistance. We trace the course of desolation with a shudder, and we acknowledge that the times were indeed such as tried men's souls. cended the Kennebeck as far as the falls, in the present town of Winslow, where they left their boats under a strong guard and began their march for the Abenaki village. They found it unguarded, and had surrounded it before being discovered. The warriors ran to their arms, but were swept away by the close, deadly volleys which the English poured into them. Men, women, and children fell beneath this withering fire. Rale, the Jesuit father, whose fatal ascendency over the tribe had brought this storm upon it, fell pierced with balls. The, Mogg and Bomazeen slain, and the village burned to ashes. On the expiration of his term of office, in 1715, Dudley was succeeded in the government by Colonel Samuel Shute, who had served under Marlborough, in Flanders. He arrived at Boston in October, 1716. His administration was embittered by continued warfare with the house of rep-tribe was cut to pieces, its dreaded chieftains resentatives upon questions of privilege, in which the governor usually had the support of the council. Of these differences a fixed compensation for the royal governor, to be paid by the province, became one of the most vexatious, and soon developed into a chronic grievance, to be inherited by succeeding administrations. By voting only such sums as they pleased, the house held a power over the governor which they were determined to exercise, and did exercise, whenever the chief magistrate's construction of their charter prerogatives clashed with their own. These antagonisms finally drove Shute from the province. Groton, Oxford, and Rutland had been disturbed by small bands of the enemy who were still at their old work of picking off the unwary English from some deadly ambush. In September two citizens of Dunstable were suddenly made captives. The savages were pursued by soldiers, of whom eight were killed from an ambuscade. One grave in the ancient burial-ground of Dunstable contains their remains. In the following April, John Lovewell, a hardy and experienced ranger of Dunstable, whose scalping exploits had already noised his fame abroad, marched with forty-six men for the Indian village at Pigwacket, now Fryeburg, Maine. At Ossipee he built a small fort designed as a retreat in case of disaster. This precaution undoubtedly saved the lives of some of his men. He was now within two short marches of the enemy's village. The In 1721 the General Court sat in Cambridge, on account of the prevalence of small-pox at the capital. It was at this time that inoculation was first tried with success, against a popular clamor in which most of the physicians of the day joined. Such was the power of prejudice that the house of representatives passed a bill prohibiting inoculation. The council, however, did not con-scouts having found Indian tracks in the neigh cur. In 1722 war again broke out with the Eastern Indians, who had been in a condition of feverish agitation ever since they knew the English meant to reoccupy their old settlements in Maine under the provisions of the late treaty. Their dissatisfaction was privately stimulated by Vaudreuil, governor-general of Canada, and by the Jesuits resident among them. The Penobscot and Cape Sable Indians promised to help those living on the Saco and Kennebeck in the endeavor to drive the English from their hunting-grounds. It was not long before the work of slaughter, with its attendant horrors of pillage, burning, and captivity, began anew. One of the Abenaki villages, situated at Norridgewock, on the Kennebeck, was a perpetual thorn in the side of the English. They determined wounding Lovewell and one other. This Indian | load his gun, in order that he might have one last was then shot dead. ́ shot when the savages returned to wreak their venMeanwhile the enemy, who were stealthily dog-geance on the wounded. ging the march of the English, found and possessed themselves of their packs. Paugus, their chief, silently placed his warriors in ambuscade. When Lovewell's men returned to the spot where they had left their packs, the enemy rose, and poured in a destructive volley in front and rear. The English quickly returned the fire, and then charged the enemy in their front with determined bravery; until, seeing themselves surrounded on every side, the order was given to fall back to the pond, where they took refuge behind trees, and fought on. Lovewell was killed and two of his lieutenants wounded at the first onset. Nearly or quite one third of the rangers had fallen, yet they undauntedly continued the battle until nightfall, when the enemy drew off, leaving them in possession of the bloody field. Only defeat or want of ammunition could have made the savages relinquish their prey. The survivors, under command of Ensign Wyman of Woburn, who bore himself intrepidly on this day, made their way back to the fort. Instead of help for the wounded and the aid of eight trusty rifles, they found it deserted, the guard having fled on the report of a runaway from the field that their comrades were all cut to pieces. This was the crowning misfortune of the expedition. The rangers now became a band of panic-stricken fugitives. After incredible hardships less than twenty starving, emaciated, and footsore men, half of them badly wounded, straggled into the nearest English settle ments. Many instances of individual heroism are related of this battle, and it has been made the theme of many familiar ballads and nursery tales. Indeed, of all the encounters between the white and red men in New England, this is perhaps the most celebrated, the best known. Of the thirty-four rangers who went into battle seven each were from Groton, Concord, and Dunstable, five belonged in Woburn, two in Billerica, and one was from Weston. All the officers were from Middlesex. When the survivors came silently together in the darkness that succeeded the conflict, only nine were unhurt. Eleven were badly wounded, but were resolved to march with their comrades though they died by the way. Three more were alive, but had received their death-wounds. One of these was Lieutenant Robbins of Chelmsford. Knowing that he must be left behind, he begged his comrades to The loss of the Indians could only be guessed, but the battle led to the immediate abandonment of their village, from which so many war-parties had formerly harassed the English. Paugus, the renowned chief, fell, slain, it is said, by John Chamberlain of Groton. The foemen met on the shore of the pond to which both repaired to cleanse their foul guns. Both coolly washed and loaded their weapons while exchanging mutual defiance and taunts. Whoever first loaded held his enemy at his mercy. Chamberlain's superior dexterity gave him this advantage. "Chief, I said I should kill you," exclaimed the fearless ranger, sending his bullet through the heart of Paugus. Though the story has obtained large credence, its authenticity is doubtful. With this fight the war closed. It is not entitled to a place in history beside the heroic defence of Wadsworth, in Philip's War, or many other fierce encounters since that time. Lovewell's was not an expedition undertaken solely to secure the common safety by severely chastising an insolent and dreaded foe, but a hunt for Indian scalps, for which the province had increased the premium to one hundred pounds. His men were all volunteers drawn together by their captain's previous reputation and good fortune in obtaining this hideous bounty. Therefore, while we extol a valor never surpassed on any field, we may not award to Lovewell's band the praise due to men who fought for a higher and a nobler motive. We forbear to express our sense of the cruel policy which legalized the introduction of such warfare, and, in effect, put Christians and savages on the same level in their way of conducting it. Governor Burnet, son of the friend and counsellor of King William, was appointed to succeed Shute, who, contrary to the general expectation, did not return, but who left as a legacy to the new incumbent his quarrel with the house of representatives. Burnet was of sterner mould than his predecessor. Moreover, the king administered harsh reproof and warning to the provincial legislature for the intractable spirit which marked its proceedings upon the question of compensation. While the court was sitting at Cambridge, to which place it had been adjourned, Burnet was taken sick, and died in September, 1729. He was succeeded by Jonathan Belcher, a native of New England. |