any judgment can be formed from the prominence of
their names among the official agents of the town.
Among these names — that of Tobijah, who passed suc-
cessively from the rank and title of corj)oral to that
of captain, is specially distinguished. Another Tobijah
of a later period, was also a military leadei;. At the
time of the Revolution, there was prol:)al)ly no man
here, more prominent or efficient, than Capt. Stephen
Perkins, another of the same descent. It is sufficient



64



to point, as we can, to-day, to tlie pulpit, tlie bar,
and the bencli, to sliow, tliat migration lias not im-
paii-ed tlie \drtues of tlie race.

Josepli Herrick, tlie first of tliat name wlio settled
in Topsfield, Avas a grandson of Henry Herrick, of Sa-
lem, tlie patriarchal liead of a vast family. Joseph
resided on JNIine Hill, where Nathaniel Porter .datelv
lived. His name appears often m the Records, as a
person of note. The burying-ground in that vicinity
was given by him, in 1739, to a number of Topsfield
and Middleton families. His grandson, Israel, lived
awhile in Topsfield and Boxford ; but finally died in
Lewiston, Maine. He entered the army as a lieutenant,
in 1745, and was out in nineteen campaigns. In 1763,
he left the service a major, by brevet. The war of
Independence again called him to the field, and he

was among the defenders of Bunker Hill. Nehe-

miah Herrick was another grandson of Joseph, and
inherited and occupied the homestead. After serving
the toAvn long, and in various capacities, he removed
to Cavendish, Vermont.

Those of the name now resident here, are descen-
dants in the seventh and eighth generations from John,
of Beverley, the seventh child of the patriarch above
named. Though their migration hither is of recent
date, they are still, in part, of Topsfield origin, ha\dng
sprung fi'om Mary Redington, who was a Topsfield
girl, nearly two hundi'ed years ago.



65



The Porters, now almost extinct in the place, were
for many years among tlie first in talent and respec-
tability. Nathaniel and Elijah Porter were probably
among the earliest settlers in what was long called
Blind Hole — an epithet, derived, it is supposed, from
the extreme density of the forest in that spot. The
ground which they occupied is still partly in the Por-
ter name, and partly forms the fair fields and luxu-
riant orchards of the old Cummings place. Elijah
sold his interest in Blind Hole, and purchased the
house and land afterwards owned hj Dr. Cleave-
land. He was evidently a capable and ready man,
useful in the church, and active in town affairs. He
was more than once a representative to the General
Court, and when he died, held the ofiice of town-
clerk and treasurer. A cousin of his, the Bev. Dr.
Nathaniel Porter, was educated at Cambridge. The
Bevolutionary War was not over when he was settled
in the little town of Conway, New-Hampshire. Here,
almost beneath the shadow of Mount Washington, he
lived in usefulness and peace to the great age of
ninety-two. ^^^^

Among the names early found here, and long re-
spectable, but which have passed entirely away, there
was, perhaps, none more worthy than that of Beding-
ton. Elizabeth Bedington, daughter of Abraham, was
born in 1645, and hers is the first recorded birth.
John, a brother, doubtless, of Abraham, seems to have
settled here at the same time. They were together
on a committee to run the line between Topsfield and
Salem, in 1659. From this date, for nearly or quite

5



66



a hundred years, tlie name of Redington is prominent
among those who ^\'ere selected as representatives,
jurymen, schoolmasters, and municipal officers. Of this
scattered family, I have been able to trace the mi-
grations and present abode of but a single branch.
Early in the 18th century, Thomas Redington appears
to have removed to Boxford. Abraham, one of the
sons, went into Maine. Of his children, who were
among the iirst settlers of Vassalboro' and Waterville,
one still lives in ^^gorous and venerable age. I refer
to Samuel Redington, now of Hampden, Maine, who
was for many years an efficient and highly esteemed
member of the Massachusetts and Maine legislatures.
A son of his is, at this time, the Adjutant-General of
Maine, and Mayor of the city of Augusta. His ne-
phew. Judge Asa Redington, is the Law Reporter for
that State. If the other Redingtons, who sprung fi'om
Topsfield sii'es, and who are living, — I know not where, —
be doing as well as those just named, it is fair to
conclude that there is no degeneracy among them.

My endeavors to ascertain the precise antiquity of the
most ancient dwellino'-houses here, have been attended
with but small success. The honor of being "the old-
est house in town" is claimed for three or four ; and
it is a question of precedence, which, for want of po-
sitive evidence, seems likely to remain open. The Ca-
pen house — so called — erected by the minister of that
name, is undoubtedly very old. It was standing at
the beginning of the 18th century, we know; how
much earlier it is impossible to tell.



6T



The house in which Col. Bradstreet lately lived,
belongs, it is supposed, to the first quarter of the last
century. If actually of that date, it was built with
an attention to looks and comfort, by no means usual
at the time. The cottage which bore the name of
the Governor, and which he is believed to have erected,
stood more to the west, upon the opposite side of the
road.

There has been a traditionary opinion, that the
house formerly owned by Rev. Daniel Gould, and now
on the land of Captain Elliot, is extremely ancient.
This opinion is not wholly without confirmation. A
few months since, the chimney of this house was taken
down. Between the wood work and the bricks was
found an ancient paper in good preservation. Its date
is Feb. 1, 1675. It is an account presented by John
Kuck and John Putnam, to the Proprietors of the
Iron Works in Rowley Village, — with the doings of
a meeting of said Proprietors. It is not strange that
such a paper should have been in this house, for Za-
cheus and John Gould are known to have been in-
terested in those works. The house may be, — proba-
bly it is, quite as old as the paj^er. If so — rude and
rejected as it is, it should strongly interest every
bearer of the Gould name. It is the rough but ho-
nest cradle of their race. There, probably, lived Za-
cheus, the first, — there, undoubtedly, lived their brave
and pious ancestor, Capt. John Gould.

The cottage, which once held within its coarse oak
walls and ceiling the germs of all the Peabodys in



68



America, is, I suppose, still in existence. The house,
now owned and occupied by Aaron Kneeland, has
every mark of antiquity. It stands, undoubtedly, on
the spot where Francis Pabody first planted himself,
as early as IGoY, and was, in all probabihty, erected
by him, although not his fii'st habitation. ^^^^

I have, let me confess, looked of late with an un-
wonted interest on these two relics of a distant past.
Heretofore, they were but the squalid abodes of fam-
ilies unknown to me. No historic honors or associ-
ations had then spread over them their magic charm.
But, more recently, I have stood and gazed at them,
until I saw them again encircled by the very forests
from which their massive timbers and hard planks
were taken. Next, I re-peopled them with their ori-
ginal tenants — with valiant men, and firm, true-heart-
ed women — a strong, industrious, and pious race. And
then Imaofination took wino^, and tracked from these
two httle fountains the streams of a successive emi-
gration; — streams that have flowed and spread, and
multiplied as they spread, — until a thousand commu-
nities, scattered far and wide over all the land, have
felt and have blessed their refreshing influences.

How many heroes of the battle-field, — ^how many
sages at the council-board, — what lights of the pulpit
and of the forum, — what enterprises of business and
of benevolence, — what conquests of science and of art,
— and what strains of poetry di™e, — might all go
back for their origin, and acknowledge as their cra-
dle-homes, that old house on the Gould plain, and that



69



dilapidated cottage by the Peabody mill-pond ! Can any
ivied ruin of feudal fortress — can tlie proudest archi-
tecture of baronial hall, or lordly palace, boast of as-
sociations, or exhibit a history, more truly, or more
gloriously sublime ? Who does not ^dsh that such
memorials as these — such witnesses as they, to the sim-
ple greatness of our pilgrim sires, might be piously pro-
tected, and long preserved from the destroying ele-
ments, and still more fatal hand of man !

There are now living in Massachusetts, a dozen de-
scendants from old To2:)sfield men, each of whom, pro-
bably, — (I say it without a metaphor,) — could overlay
with solid silver, or with beaten gold, the plain, un-
plastered cottages, which their fathers reared among
these woods, and in which they lived revered, and
died lamented.

Let it not be imagined that this remark is prompted
by any blind admiration of mere wealth. Compared
with the priceless treasures of intellect and heart, it
seems — it must seem — to every well-regulated mind,
more worthless than the dust we tread on. Unaccom-
panied and uncontrolled by intelligence, ^drtue, and be-
nevolence, it only bloats its possessor into a more hi-
deous deformity, — it only gibbets him on a more ridi-
culous and more isTiominous elevation. But there are
those who have seen, with the Roman moralist, its pro-
per beauty and its true splendor. There are those who
have learned in a better school, and from a Divine
Master, their duty and their responsibility as stewards.
Happy is it for the communities to which they belong



70



and liappy and glorious for themselves, if the rich de-
scendants of Francis Pabody, John Gould, John Wilds,
and Thomas Perkins, understand as well, and discharge
as truly, each personal and social obligation, as did
those worthy men from whose loins they sprung.

I have scarcely left myself room for placing, side
by side, in the strong lights of comparison and of con-
trast, those dissimilar pictures — ^the present and the past.
This is the less needful, inasmuch as the principal chan-
ges that have been effected in the usages of society,
and in the habits, manners, and condition of the peo-
ple, have occurred within a period comparatively re-
cent. The memory of your oldest men runs back to
days, when the primitive simplicity of the ft'st hundred
years had not departed. They have not forgotten a
single feature of those flinty, those iron times. How
often have we heard from their own lips, the touching
narrative of penury, of hardship, and of toil ! The
rise and progress of modern manufactures and machi-
nery, have, of necessity, banished from the farms of
Topsfield their sheep-folds and flax-fields, — and from
your houses the spinning-wheel and the loom. This
great alteration, so materially affecting the style and
habits of domestic industry, belongs even to the pre-
sent century. Still later, and scarcely less important,
is the extensive introduction among yourselves, of the
shoe manufacture. But ui)on these matters of your own
familiar experience, I need not dwell. ^^'^

It may, perhaps, l)e expected that I shall touch up-
on the question of progress and degeneracy, — and re-



Tl



vive, if not rashly attempt, to settle tliat long-agi-
tated dis]3ute — the contest for superiority between the
ancients and the moderns. In the great elements of
mind and character, has Topsfield advanced or declined
as it has grown older? — Under the wise and eternal
constitution of things, men are trained and formed,
not only for, but by the times in which they hap-
pen to live. I have already had occasion to allude
to those in\'igorating influences, under which our fa-
thers became shrewd, and wise, and valiant, and vir-
tuous. In the more robust elements of mind and of
character, I question if there have been an advance.
I seriously doubt whether as many men, strong for
council and for action, could now be summoned from
the homes of Topsfield, as used to assemble in the
old meeting-house in 17 7 5. But the same intellectual
and moral elements are here still. The blood which
warmed those rural sages and heroes, yet flows, it is
to be hoped, undebased, in your veins. Should the
emergency ever come, — should the times again grow
eventful and dark, — should you see your dearest rights
and pri^-ileges in danger, — you would prove yourselves
worthy of your fathers : — AA^ould you not ?

That there has been a constant and marked ad-
vance in knowledge and refinement, with their many
liberalizing influences and adorning graces, admits of
no doubt. That there has been any deterioration, on
the whole, even in morals and religion, I should be
slow to believe. Indeed, I think it can be shown
that there has been actual improvement. I love to
cherish an undoubting faith in humanity, and in pro-



72



gress. I look not at individual cases of degeneracy
and degradation — sucli have always existed. I make
no reference to whole families, once prosperous and
respectable, now ignoble or extinct. So it has ever
been. We must look at man, as he appears in the
great mass, and in the long run, — and then we find
his career to be ever onward and upward. This gra-
dual, but sure advancement, in all that relates to his
physical and moral well-being, may not unaptly be
compared to the slow upheaving of a continent. Forces
of resistless energy, unseen, indeed, and unheard, are
steadily at work below. No agitation in the mighty
mass — no visil^le motion, apj^rizes the dwellers on its
surface, of the constantly progressive process. A ad
yet its reality is incontestil^ly proved, if not from
year to year, at least from age to age, by the re-
treating sea-marks on the shore.

And now, — though deeply conscious that I leave
many things untouched, and that the whole is imper-
fect, I must hasten to a conclusion.

Descendants of the men who first subdued and plant-
ed the hills and plains of Topsfield ! Do you not feel,
in view of even this faint and feeble portraiture of
your ancestors, that you have done well in assembling
here this day, to recall and to commemorate their toils
and sacrifices, their sufferings and their virtues ? What
spectacle can be more pleasing than the one here pre-
sented? What tribute to the memory and the worth
of your forefathers, could be more appropriate than
that which you thus render? This sylvan bower — those



73



azure heavens — the circumjacent landscape — these thou-
sands of animated faces — and the loud acclaim of your
own resounding voices ; — do they not bring back, by
the power, either of identity or contrast, those earlier
gatherings here, on which, even the phlegmatic savage
gazed with wonder, two hundred years ago ? Over
them, as over you, waved a verdurous canopy. Around
them, as now round you, were hung 'the soft blue
curtains' of the sky. But here the resemblance ends.
Where now, in the midst of orchards and fruitful fields,
are seen your comfortable homes — then stood among
the stumps of their small clearings, the rude habita-
tions of your fathers. That country which now smiles
far and wide in cultivated beauty, was then a frown-
ing, interminable, forest-shade. No mild, yet powerful
government, of their own erection and choice, stretched
over them the aegis of its protecting arm. No opulent
commerce poured into their lap the luxuries and treas-
ures of the world. No Lowell or Manchester clothed
them with the cheap and abundant products of their
looms. No roads, nor rails, nor conveyances, either
swift or slow, facilitated their movements from place
to place. The plenty and the variety which crown
your daily board, were to them unknown.

Yet, were they rich, — in faith ; and strong, — in the
simple power of truth and love. More imjDortant in
their eyes than any physical comforts, were the eternal
principles of reason, and liberty, and religion. More
precious to them than all the world beside, were their
rights of conscience, and their hopes of Heaven.



u

Yes, revered Forefathers and Founders of this town !
we will write upon our memory your honored names,
and deep will we enshrine them in our inmost heart.
On the fields, which youi' toil first subdued ; in the
liomes, which your enterprize won and bequeathed ;
amid the comforts and luxuries, which your sacrifices
procured for us ; enjoying, unrestrained, the rights and
privileges, which England denied to you ; — we cannot,
and we will not, forget the men, from whom our rich
inheritance descended. May the light which you en-
kindled here — the light of liberty and law, of learning
and religion, never go out ! Let it be our first employ-
ment and om^ praise to fan and to transmit the sacred
flame.



NOTES



TO THE



A D D K E S S.



APPENDIX.



NOTE I.— Page 9.



John Endicott was born in 1588, at Dorchester, in England. Of his family
little is known beyond the fact that it was respectable in condition and character.
He first comes into public notice in 1628, when we find him associated with John
Humphrey, a brother-in-law of the Earl of Lincoln, with Sir Henry Roswell, Sir
John Young, and two other.s, in purchasing from the Plymouth Council for
New-England, a large grant of land upon Massachusetts Bay. John Winthrop,
Sir Richard Saltonstall, and other wealthy Puritans, joined the association, and
Endicott, as a man of tried courage and ability, was selected to conduct the
first expedition. He arrived at Naumkeag on the 6th of Sept., 1628, and here
in the forest, with some fifty or sixty persons under his direction, set himself
resolutely to his great work of founding a state. In the following year he
was, by vote of the Company in England, duly appointed Governor of the
*' Plantation." Sickness soon attacked the settlement, and many died — among
them the wife of the governor. With a laudable regard for the pecuniary as
well as moral interests of the colony, he prosecuted those, who, in violation
of law, traded with the Indians — arrested Morton, of Mt. Wollaston, and sent
him home — and cut down the May-pole which this jolly fellow had erected
upon Merry Mount. In the summer of this year came a large reinforcement.
The arrival of Shelton and Higginson was followed by the establishment of a
church on principles of entire independence, over which they were set.
Two of Endicott's Council, John and Samuel Browne, displeased at the rejec-
tion of the Liturgy, left the congregation, and had a serv'ice of their own.
The governor at once shipped them for England. The Brownes complained
loudly, and the home government cautioned Endicott against rash measures, —
but the decision remained unreversed.

In 1630, the government having been transferred to America, Winthrop came
out as chief magistrate, Endicott being made one of the Assistants. The seat
of authority was soon changed from Salem to Newton, and then to Boston ;
but Endicott remained in his first home. Higginson died this year, and was
succeeded in office by Roger Williams. This great but strange man had
already made himself obnoxious to the Boston church, by his censures of their
conduct, and the Court reproved Endicott for giving him countenance. In 1632,



II APPENDIX.

Endicott received from the Court a grant of 300 acres, upon which he built,
and which he called the Orchard Farm. Tliis pleasant spot, which is more
than two miles from what afterwards became the main settlement, was his
principal residence for many years. Tlie locality is well known.

In 1634, an important matter came up for discussion among the colonists.
It was the question whether the women should wear veils when they went to
meeting. Cotton thought that these " signs of submission," might be dis-
pensed with, while Endicott was staunch upon the other side. Affairs of greater
moment succeeded. Alarming intelligence was received from England. The
colony was seriously menaced with the loss of its patent, and the subversion
of its new-found liberty. Letters of private intercession, as well as of public
excuse, were sent home. Preparations were made for defence, and a military
commission, of which Dudley was President, and to which Endicott belonged,
was appointed, " to consult, direct, and give command, for the managing and
ordering of any war that might befall," &c. But King Charles soon found
so much to occupy him at home, that New-England was spared. It was just
before the arrival of the threatening rumors from England, that Endicott, in-
fluenced, perhaps, by Williams, cut the red cross from the colors. He was by
no means the only one, who regarded this symbol as a Popish and idolatrous
emblem. But there was certainly no other man in the colony who dared thus
to deface the royal banner. For prudential reasons a show was made of cen-
suring him, but the result at length was, that the cross was laid aside.

Roger Williams, who had repeatedly been in difficulty on account of his
free opinions, at last filled up the measure of his offences, and was banished
from Massachusetts. Even Endicott, who had hitherto stood by him, and who
had suffered hardship for this adherence, was compelled to give him up. This
was in 1635. In the following year occurred the first Indian difficulties.
Some Englishmen had been killed by the Pequods and Narragansetts. An
expedition of four companies, commanded by our hero, was sent to punish
them. The Block Islanders, whom he was ordered to exterminate, had warning,
and got out of his way. All he could do, then, was to burn their wigwams'
stave their canoes, and destroy their corn. He then went among the Pequods,
with whom he had a skirmish, which resulted in the death of several of the
natives. Though he returned to Boston without loss, the expedition did little
more than to exasperate the Indians, and thus brought on that fatal war, in
which the Pequod nation perished. In 1641, Endicott's friend and pastor,
Hugh Peters, was, after much reluctance on the part of the former, released
from his connections in Salem, to go as agent of the government to England.
This distinguished man, who was not a theologian merely, and to whom Salem
owes the commencement of that marine and commercial activity, for which
she has so long been famous, never returned. His subsequent history and unhappy
fate need not here be told. This year, Endicott became Deputy-Governor, — a station



APPENDIX. Ill

which he held till 1644, when he was made chief magistrate. He was suc-
ceeded by Dudley at the end of the year, but received, instead, the appoint-
ment of Sergeant-Major-General, and that of United Commissioner.

In 1648, a copper mine was discovered upon his land in Topsfield. Mr.
Leader, a metallurgist, then superintending the Lynn iron works, having ex-
pressed a favorable opinion of the ore, Endicott was at considerable expense
in excavating and working it. The location of this mine is well known.
More than 120 years after its discovery, it was, in spite of Endicott's failure,
again opened, and worked for awhile, at considerable loss to the projectors.
After another interval of about seventy years, a company of Salem capitalists
caused the old shaft to be cleared out, and subjected the ore to analj'sis.
The result was, that the hole was once more filled up, never again, probably,
to be disturbed.

On the death of Winthrop, 1649, Endicott was chosen Governor, and held
the office (two years excepted) until his death, in 1665. The Roundheads
being now uppermost in England, one of the first acts of the Court, with
Endicott and Dudley at its head, was to come out strong against the practice
of wearing long hair. In 1656, at the request of the Court, he removed from
his beloved Salem to the seat of government. In 1657, he received for £75
paid, another grant in Topsfield of one thousand acres. This land, or a part
of it, he afterwards exchanged. This was the time of the Quaker persecution
— an affair, which says little for the liberality, or even the good sense, of our
fathers. In the indelible reproach, then incurred by Massachusetts, our Gov-
ernor must bear his share. Let us see to it, however, that he does not bear
more. In 1661, Endicott received a Mandamus from the king, requiring the
arrest and extradition of Whalley and Goffe. In his executive acts, and espe-
cially in his loyal epistle to the Chancellor, Clarendon, — the Puritan Governor