Chapter V: Part 5

They were jolly dogs, those colonial clergymen of the Church of England in the eighteenth century, and no more to be taken seriously than Friar Tuck, whose apostolic successors they were. Parishioners who wished spiritual counsel had difficulty in finding the parson. In the morning he was fox-hunting, in the afternoon he was over (or under) the dining-table, and the midnight candle shone on his wine-cup and dice-box.

Like their brethren across the Atlantic, the colonial clergy were strong on doctrine. "They abhorred popery, atheism, and idolatries in general, and hiccupped 'Church and State!' with fervor." Yet their morals were at so low an ebb as to justify the complaint made against them that they were "such as wore black coats and could gabble in a pulpit, roar in a tavern, exact from their parishioners, and rather by their dissoluteness destroy than feed their flock."

One clergyman assaulted a dignitary in vestry-meeting, pulling off his wig and subjecting him to various indignities, and capped the climax of audacity by preaching the next Sunday from the text: "I contended with them and cursed them, and smote certain of them and pulled off their hair." Another minister fought a duel behind his church, and a third, the Rev. Thomas Blewer (pronounced probably _Blower_), was presented by the Grand Jury as a common swearer. All efforts to reform the clergy were in vain. Ministers were sometimes tried for drunkenness, and some of the tests of what constitutes drunkenness were laid down by the court: "Sitting an hour or longer in the company where they are drinking strong drink and in the mean time drinking of healths, or otherwise taking the cups as they come round, like the rest of the company; striking or challenging or threatening to fight." Staggering, reeling, and incoherent speech are justly regarded as suspicious circumstances, and the advice continues: "Let the proof of these signs proceed so far till the judges conclude that behavior at such time was scandalous, undecent, unbecoming the dignity of a minister." There is unfortunately only too clear a case against the colonial clergy; but it is only fair to take into account the condition of the church at home. If the clergymen in Maryland and Virginia gambled and drank, so did those in England and Wales. Did not Sterne grace the cassock? Did not Gay propose taking orders for a living, and did not Swift write from a deanery stuff too vile for print? There was some talk at one time of sending this great Dr. Swift over to Virginia as a bishop, and a worthy one he would have been, to such a church.

The eighteenth century was a period of decadence in the colonial ministry. Things had not always been so bad. When the first settlers came to America, the clergymen who accompanied them were men of sterling worth and character. They were moved by a hope of converting the Indians, and came in a true missionary spirit. The journals of those adventurers testify to the courage with which their chaplain braved dangers and bore discomforts. "By unprosperous winds," they say, "we were kept six weeks in sight of England; all which time Master Hunt, our preacher, was so weake and sicke that few expected his recovery. Yet, although we were but twentie myles from his habitation, and notwithstanding the stormy weather, nor the scandalous imputations against him, all this could never force from him so much as a seeming desire to leave the businesse." All through the journey he was brave and cheerful, though there was a constant ferment of wrath in that hot-headed ship's company, which might have ended in bloodshed, "had he not, with the water of patience and his godly exhortations, but chiefly by his true, devoted example, quenched those flames of envy and detraction." Finally, after the fire at Jamestown, Master Hunt lost all his library and "all he had but the cloathes on his backe, yet none never heard him repine at his loss."

Following Hunt came the good Whitaker, "a schollar, a graduate, a preacher well born and well friended in England," who from conscientious desire to help the savages left "his warm nest and, to the wonder of his kinsmen, and to the amazement of them that knew him," undertook this perilous enterprise. Of such pith and worth were these first priests; but the Indian massacre made a great change. Friendly intercourse with the natives being cut off, there was no chance for missionary work among them, and the plantations were too far apart to make a vigorous church life possible. The pay was small and the field barren, so that there was little temptation either to the ambitious and intellectual, or to the spiritually minded class of the clergy, to come to America. They were as a rule, therefore, the ignorant, the dissipated, and the _mauvais sujets_ who filled the colonial livings. Yet at the lowest ebb there were exceptions to this rule. There, for instance, was Rector Robert Rose, whose tombstone describes him as discharging with the most tender piety the "domestick" duties of husband, father, son, and brother, and in short as "a friend to the whole human race." His journal gives a glimpse of his relations with his parish, very cheering in the dreary waste of quarrels and bickering so common in those days. On one occasion, during a drouth, when a famine threatened, he told his people that corn could be had from him. On the appointed day a crowd gathered before his house. He asked the applicants if they had brought money to pay for the corn. Some answered cheerfully, "Yes," others murmured disconsolately, "No." The good priest then said: "You who have money can get your corn anywhere, but these poor fellows with no money shall have my corn."

He was quite human, this old parson, and liked his glass of "Fyal" or Madeira, but he knew when to stop, and he feared not to rebuke the rich and great among his parishioners when he saw them making too merry. He enters in his journal the date of a call on one of his leading families, when he found the father absent at a cock-fight. The rector adds the significant memorandum: "Suffer it no more!"

In spite of a few bright exceptions like this, it is idle to deny that the relations between parish and clergy in the Southern church ill bore comparison with those of the Puritan and his minister; and this not because of doctrine, but chiefly because the Puritan minister represented the free choice of the people, who supported him willingly, and looked upon him with reverence, as the messenger of the Lord. In South Carolina, where the clergy were chosen by the vestries, the same harmony and good-will existed, but the church in Virginia writhed under the injustice of taxation without representation.

The parishioners were expected to receive and maintain the clergyman appointed them without criticism or question. How any attempt on the part of these vestries to discipline or dismiss the minister they supported was received, we may judge from this letter, sent by Governor Spotswood to the churchwardens and vestry of South Farnham parish in 1716:

"Gentlemen: I'm not a little surprised at the sight of an order of yours, wherein you take upon you to suspend from his office a clergyman who for near sixteen years has served as your minister.... As no vestry in England has ever pretended to set themselves up as judges over their ministers, so I know no law of this country that has given such authority to the vestry here. If a clergyman transgresses against the canons of the church, he is to be tried before a proper judicature, and though in this country there be no bishops to apply to, yet there is a substitute for a bishop in your diocesan.... In case of the misbehavior of your clergyman, you may be his accusers, but in no case his judges; but much less are you empowered to turn him out without showing cause."

This haughty language recalls the messages of Charles the First to his parliament. Yet in spite of his support of the priest against the parish, the Governor never dreamed of recognizing him as his own equal. Some years later, when the stately old aristocrat was in his grave, a member of the clergy sued for the hand of his widow, Lady Spotswood. The reverend suitor writes after a very humble and apologetic fashion: "Madam," he begins, "by diligently perusing your letter I perceive there is a material argument--upon which your strongest objection against completing my happiness would seem to depend, viz.: That you would incur ye censure of ye world for marrying a person in ye station of my station and character. By which I understand that you think it a diminution of your honour and ye dignity of your family to marry a person in ye station of a clergyman. Now, if I can make it appear that ye ministerial office is an employment in its nature ye most honorable and in its effects ye most beneficial to mankind, I hope your objections will immediately vanish--that you will keep me no longer in suspense and misery, but consummate my happiness." After a long enumeration of the dignities, spiritual rather than social, appertaining to the clergy, he closes thus: "And, therefore, if a gentleman of this sacred and honourable character should be married to a lady, though of ye greatest extraction and most excellent personal qualities (which I am sensible you are endowed with), it can be no disgrace to her or her family; nor draw the censures of ye world upon them for such an action." Such language is in curious contrast with the attitude of New England, where the praise bestowed on a woman by Cotton Mather as the highest possible compliment was, that she was worthy to be the wife of a priest.

The chief cause of irritation between parson and parish in the colonial church was from the beginning the question of the ministers' salaries. In some places these were very small. It appears, for instance, in the record book of the church at Edenton, in North Carolina, that Parson Garzia in the year 1736, was paid only £5 for holding divine service. But in Maryland and Virginia the salaries were frequently higher than those paid in New England. In each Virginia borough a hundred acres were set off as a glebe, or parsonage farm. Besides this and the salary, there were fees of twenty shillings for a wedding by license and five shillings for every wedding by banns, beside forty shillings for a funeral sermon. It is easier to understand the fulsomeness of these old funeral discourses when we learn how well they were paid for, and realize that, in common honesty, the minister was bound to render a forty-shilling certificate of character to the deceased.

As time went on, the salary question became a burning issue. The plantations being so widely separated, quarrels often arose as to the portion of the parish on which the chief burden of the minister's support should fall. In the records of the very early Virginia church history, we come upon an instance of this in the proceedings in Lower Norfolk County, at a court held 25th May, 1640.

"Whereas the inhabitants of this parrishe beinge this day conevented for the providinge of themselves an able minister to instruct them concerning their soules' health, mr. Thomas Harrison tharto hath tendered his service to god and the said inhabitants in that behalf wch his said tender is well liked of, with the genall approbacon of the said Inhabitants, the parishoners of the parishe church at mr. Sewell's Point who to testifie their zeale and willingness to p'mote gods service doe hereby p'mise (and the court now sittinge doth likewise order and establish the same) to pay one hundreth pounds starling yearely to the sd mr. Harrison, soe Longe as hee shall continue a minister to the said Parishe in recompence of his paynes."

This arrangement apparently did not long prove satisfactory, for the record goes on to state that

"Whereas there is a difference amongst the Inhabitants of the fforesaid Pishe, concerninge the imployinge of a minister beinge now entertayned to live amongst them, The Inhabitants from Danyell Tanner's Creek and upward the three branches of Elizabeth river (in respect they are the greatest number of tithable persons) not thinknge it fitt nor equall that they shall pay the greatest pte of one hundred pownds w{h} is by the ffore sd order allotted for the ministers annuall stipend, unlesse the sd minister may teach and Instruct them as often as he shall teach at ye Pishe church siytuate at mr. Sewell's Pointe. It is therefore agreed amongst the sd Inhabitants that the sd minister shall teach evie other Sunday amongst the Inhabitants of Elizabeth River at the house of Robert Glasscocke untill a convenyent church be built and Erected there for gods service w{h} is agreed to bee finished at the charge of the Inhabitants of Elizabeth River before the first day of May next ensueinge."

However little value they might set on Gospel privileges, these Danyell Tanner's Creek men meant to have what they paid for, or cease their payments.

A Virginia statue of 1696 declared that each minister of a parish should receive an annual stipend of sixteen thousand pounds of tobacco. This amounted to about £140, as tobacco sold for many years at two-pence the pound. But, in the year 1755, there was a shortage in the tobacco crop, and the legislature passed an act enabling the inhabitants of the county to discharge their tobacco-debts in money for the present year. The clergy seem to have made no active opposition; but five years later, when a similar law was passed, and tobacco rose sharply in price, they took alarm, and started a violent campaign in defence of their rights. The Reverend John Camm published a sarcastic pamphlet on "The Two Penny Act." This was answered by Colonel Bland and Colonel Carter in two very plain-spoken documents. Camm again rode a tilt against them in a pamphlet called "The Colonels Dismounted."

The community began by laughing, but ended by getting angry. Mr. Camm could find no more printers in Virginia, and was obliged to go to Maryland to carry on the war. The contest grew to larger proportions. It crossed the ocean and was laid before the king, who, always glad of an opportunity to repress anything which looked like popular sovereignty, declared in favor of the clergy. Armed thus by royal approbation, the parsons brought their case to trial. The Rev. James Maury brought suit in Hanover County against the collector. The defendants pleaded the law of 1758, but the plaintiff demurred on the ground that that law, never having been confirmed by the king, was null and void. The case was tried, Mr. Lyons arguing for the plaintiff and Mr. Lewis for the defendant. The court sustained the demurrer, and the clergy looked upon their case as won. Lewis was so sure of it that he retired from the cause, telling his clients that there was nothing more to be done in the matter. Nothing remained but for a jury to fix the amount of damages.

In this desperate state of affairs, Patrick Henry, though almost unknown at the bar, was called in, and he agreed to argue the case at the next term. On the first of December, accordingly, he came into the court-room, to find it densely packed with an excited throng of listeners. The bench was filled with clergymen. In the magistrate's seat sat the young orator's own father. The occasion might well have tried the nerve of an older and more experienced speaker. Lyons opened the cause for the clergy, with the easy assurance of one who sees his case already won. He told the jury that the law of 1758 had been set aside, and that it only remained for them to enforce the law of 1748 by awarding suitable damages to his clients, whom he exalted to the skies in a eulogy which might have better fitted better men. Lyons sat down, and young Henry rose. Awkwardly and falteringly he began, in painful contrast to the easy address of Lyons. The plaintiffs on the bench looked at each other with smiles of derision. The people, who realized that his cause was theirs, hung their heads; but only for a moment. The young orator, whose timid commencement had caused winks and nods of satisfaction to pass along the bench of the clergy, suddenly changed his whole attitude. All at once he shook off embarrassment, and roused himself like a lion brought to bay. The people at first were cheered, then became intoxicated with his eloquence. The clergy listened to the flood of sarcasm and invective till they could bear no more, and fled from the bench as from a pillory. Henry's eloquence swept the jury, who returned at once with a verdict of _one penny damages_ for the clergy. The people, wild with delight, seized their hero and carried him out on their shoulders. Henceforward he was a marked man, and for years, Wirt tells us, when the old people wished to praise any one's eloquence, they would say: "He is almost equal to Patrick when he pled against the parsons."

With so much hostile feeling toward their clergy, how shall we account for the strong affection felt by the Virginians for their church? I find the explanation in that loyalty to lost causes and that aristocratic conservatism which always marked the Cavalier. These, in spite of the debasement of the clergy, the zeal of the "New Lights," the allurements of Rome, and the eloquence of Whitefield, Fox, and the Wesleys, long kept the Cavalier Colonies true to the church of their fathers. It was not till the church allied itself with the king against the people in the Revolutionary struggle, that its doom fell.

It was a matter of course that self-interest as well as sentiment should lead the clergy to espouse the cause of England. In a letter, dated 1766, the Rev. John Camm writes from Virginia to a Mrs. McClurg in the mother-country. He begins, as is natural, with what is nearest his heart, namely his own affairs, and requests the lady to use her influence with Mr. Pitt to secure him a Living of one hundred pounds a year. Fearing that his request is too modest: "Observe," he says, "tho' a Living of one hundred nett will _do_, I care not how much larger the Living shall be. If by conversing with the Great, you have learnt their manners, and are unwilling to bestow so considerable a favour on a friend without some way or other finding your account in the transaction, which the unpolished call a bribe, you shall make your own terms with me. I will submit to what you think reasonable, and then, you know, the larger the Living or Post is, the better for both."

This pious worthy, having thus disposed of the affairs of the church, next deals in the same public spirited manner with the affairs of the colonial politics:

"One of our most active, flaming and applauded sons of liberty, Col. Rich'd Henry Lee, who burnt poor Mercer in effigy, raised a mob on Archy Ritchie, etc., etc., etc., has been lately blown up in the Publick Prints, it is said, by Mr. James Mercer. It appears that Lee, previous to his Patriotism, had made interest to be made Stamp Master himself, from letters it seems now in the possession of Col. Mercer, so that Lee will find it difficult hereafter to deceive anybody into an opinion of his Patriotism."

Posterity has quite definitely settled the question of the comparative patriotism of Col. Lee and the Rev. John Camm, and only wonders that a shrewd people tolerated that ecclesiastical fraud so long. Peace to his ashes! since he and his fellows have given way to good and sincere men who have purged the church of her disgrace and brought her back to her older and better traditions.

A gentleman of the old school, in cocked hat and knee-breeches, once said to Madison that a man might be a _Christian_ in any church, but a _gentleman_ must belong to the Church of England.

His Education

Governor Berkeley, that old stumbling-block-head who stopped the wheels of progress in Virginia for fifty years, wrote to the English Commissioners in 1670: "I thank God there are no free schools nor printing; and I hope we shall not have, for learning hath brought disobedience and heresy and sects into the world, and printing hath divulged them, and libels against the best government. God keep us from both!"

The bigoted Sir William set forth but too accurately the condition of affairs not only in Virginia, but in Maryland as well. It is impossible to avoid noting the striking contrast between the South and New England, where, by this time, every colony except Rhode Island had made education compulsory, where the school-house and the church stood side by side in every village. An old New England statute commands that "every township, after the Lord hath increased them to the number of fifty households, shall appoint one to teach all the children to write and read, and when any town shall increase to the number of a hundred families, they shall set up a grammar school." All the energy of the Puritan which was not absorbed in religion vented itself on education. Ambition turned its current to learning as more desirable than wealth. "Child," said a New England matron to her boy, "if God make thee a good Christian and a good scholar, thou hast all that thy mother ever asked for thee."

Such a spirit bred a race of readers and students, trained to sift arguments and to weigh reasons. No such devotion to books or scholarship prevailed at the South. Yet when the Revolution came, the most thrilling eloquence, the highest statesmanship, the greatest military genius were found among these Southerners. Their education had been different from that of the Puritans, but it had been an education none the less. The Cavalier had been trained in the school of politics, in the responsibilities of power, and in the traditions of greatness.

The very absence of the reading habit tended to develop action, and the power of thinking out problems afresh, unhampered by the trammels of other men's thoughts. The haughtiness begotten by slave-holding made it doubly hard for the master to bow the knee even to a sovereign. The habit of command and responsibility of power, which shone on the battlefield and in the council-chamber, were learned on the lonely estates, where each planter was a king. Behind all these elements of training were the ideals which moulded the mind and the character.

Berkeley's taunting question to Bacon, "Have you forgot to be _a gentleman_?" owed its sting to this suggestion that he had been false to the traditions of his class. If we hold that tact and courtesy and gracious hospitality are results of education, we must admit that the Puritans of New England might have learned much from their neighbors in Maryland and Virginia. The education of politics, of power, of high traditions in virtue and in manners the Colonial Cavalier possessed. The education of books he lacked. Here and there, however, we find traces of some omnivorous reader even in the earliest times. Books were highly valued and treasured by generation after generation. We find among the old wills that "Richard Russell left Richard Yates 'a booke called Lyons play,' 'John porter junr. six books' 'John porter (1) my exec'r, ten books,' 'Katherin Greene three bookes,' 'One book to Sarah Dyer,' 'unto Wm. Greene his wife two books & her mother a booke,' 'Anna Godby two books,' 'Jno. Abell One booke in Quarto,' 'Richard Lawrence One booke.'"[1]

[1] V. _Library_ of Edmund Berkeley, Esq., Member of the Council (Died
15 Dec. 1718), from an inventory taken the 18 and 19 days of June,
1719:

The whole Duty of Mann One old Bible and one old comon pray{r} book
The Christian Sacrifice The great Duty of frequenting the Christian
Sacrifice A Brief chronicle of the Civil Wars of England and Ireland.
Cavalrie the first Book The common prayer book the best companion.
Janna Divoram. Contemplations on the State of Mann the first part of
the English Dixtionary The Wel Spring of Sciences The Young Clerk
guide A compendium of physick The Athenian Oracle A Guide to
Constables Some consideration touching the Stile of the Holy
Scriptures. A perfect Guide for a Studious Young Lawyer The p{r}sent
State of London. a Profitable book for those that are burnt with
Gunpowder. The first part of the English Dictionary a Compleat history
of England The lives of the noble Grecians and Romans. The Tragedy of
Darius and Julius Cæsar A Compleat Collections of all the Laws of
Virginia The new world of English words. The history of the Jews. The
Countrey Justice The first part of Compleat Histrey The Expotion of
the Creed The Surgeons mate An Essay concerning human understanding a
Breife Treatise of Testaments The Decameron A Compendius Dictionary
Lexicon Manuale. Lord Delamers Works. Sixteen sermons on several
occasions ffarquhars Works. An abridgment of all the Statutes in
fforce The standard of the Quakers. The Hearts Ease. A Tryal of Faith
Several Discourses of the great Duties of Natural Religion The Works
of Josephus in three Volumes Doctor Reads Works. Abridgment of the
Statutes of King Wm. Plutarchs Morals. Bethel or a fform for ffamilys
Discourses on the History of the whole world of wisdom the second and
third books. Mr. John Banisters Works. The History of ffrance the
first and fourth volumes of the turkish spy Sermons on several
occasions resolutions and devisions of Cases of Conscience Plutarchs
Morals the Second Volume and the third. A Manual Anatomy England's
General Description Shakespears Works. Second Volume of Tom Browns
Works Copies of Certain Letters. Ancient and the present State of the
Empire of Germany. The Shepards oracles. Physoignomie and Chiromancy
The Genral View of the Holy Scriptures The practice of piety The great
law of consideration Trigonometrie Of generosity and constancy in the
faith The History of the Revolutions in Sweeden The Marrow of
Chyrurgery Toleration discuss'd. Letters of Remarkables in Switzerland
The office of Executors a Companion for a Chyrurgeon The Critick The
Lively Oracles The heaven of health The history of the Conquest of
China Valentine and Orson. a Discourse on the Sacraments Some Motives
to the Love of God. an Introduction to the Skill of Musick. Sermons
and Discourses some of which never before printed. The Nature of Truth
discuss'd The Method of physick The new London Dispensatory. a
Compendius Dictionary Milk for Babes an Introduction to the Eight
parts of Latin speech The use of piety The European Mercury The Books
of psalms. Notes on Mr. Lockes Essay of Human Understanding Britains
Remembrancer An Infallible way to Contentment a view of all the
religions in the world A Description of the Little world. The
portraiture of his sacred Maj{ty} in his solitudes and suferings The
London Dispensatory English Examples a Short Introduction to Gramar a
Short Catechisme The Esopps ffables Works of M{r} Tho{s} Southerne
Eight Lattin Books.

Master Ralph Wormeley's library numbered several hundred volumes, and a man might have found enough among them to gratify any inclination. If his tastes were frivolous, here were "fifty comodys and tragedies," and "The Genteel Siner." Were he an epicure, he might regale himself with "the body of cookery," and revel in its appetizing recipes for potpies and the proper method of roasting a sucking pig; and if his mind were piously inclined, the resources of the library were unlimited. Side by side on its shelves stood "No Cross, No Crowne," "The ffamous Doct{r} Usher's Body of Divinity," "Doct{r} ffuller's Holy State," and last and longest, the ninety-six sermons of the good parson Andros.

Some of these old colonial sermons came to an unprofitable end. A bundle of them was laid away in a drawer, and, when sought for, it was learned that they had been torn up and used by the damsels of the household as curling-papers. The writer might have been at least half-satisfied in the reflection that his discourses had touched the head, if not the heart.

In spite of all the old inventories which are being brought to light to show the existence of books and book lovers in the South, the fact remains that the Cavalier was no bookworm. He felt that a boy who had learned to ride, to shoot, and to speak the truth, had received the rudiments at least of education. Whatever he learned more than this was acquired either in the old _field-school_ or more often from a private tutor, usually a clergyman of the Church of England. Some attempts were made by private persons to found public-schools. In 1634, Benjamin Sym devised two hundred acres of land on the Pocosan River, together with the milk and increase of eight cows, for "the maintenance of a learned, honest man, to keep, upon the said ground, a Free-School for the education of the children of Elizabeth City and Kiquotan, from Mary's Mount downward to the Pocosan River."

"Richard Russell in his will made July 24th, 1667, and proved December 16th, the same year, now among the records of Lower Norfolk county, declared: 'the other pte of my Estate I give & bequeath One pte of itt unto Six of the poorest mens Children in Eliz: Riv'r, to pay for their Teaching to read & after these six are entred then if Six more comes I give a pte allsoe to Enter them in like manner.'"

In spite of private gifts, and individual effort, and public Acts of Assembly, the school system of New England did not and could not thrive at the South, because it was out of harmony with the spirit and institutions of the people. The plantations were so separated that any assembling of the children was difficult, the spirit of caste was too strong to encourage the free mingling of rich and poor, and the traditions of the Cavalier were not traditions of scholarship. The sword, not the pen, had always been the weapon of the gentleman. Montrose, and not Milton, was his hero. When Captain Smith proudly boasted that he did not sit mewed up in a library writing of other men's exploits, but that what his sword did, his pen writ, he expressed the ideal of the Colonial Cavalier.

"I observe," quoth Spotswood ironically to the Virginia Burgesses, "that the grand ruling party in your House has not furnished chairmen of two of your standing committees who can spell English or write common-sense, as the grievances under their own hand-writing will manifest."

Ebenezer Cook in his "Voyage to Maryland," writes with acrimonious sarcasm of "A reverend judge who, to the shame of all the Bench, could write his name." The jest of the Sot-Weed Factor scarcely outstripped the sober truth, and a century later the general ignorance was almost as dense. Several instances are on record where the servant signed his name and the master made his mark. The cross or other conventional sign was not uncommon, and in general the letters of the names are evolved slowly and painfully, as by men more apt with the gun than with the quill.

Hugh Jones, a Fellow of William and Mary College, writes of his countrymen that, for the most part, they are only desirous of learning what is absolutely necessary, in the shortest way. To meet this peculiarity Mr. Jones states that he has designed a royal road to learning, consisting of a series of text-books embracing an _Accidence to Christianity_, an _Accidence to the Mathematicks_, and an _Accidence to the English Tongue_. This last is "for the use of such boys and men as have never learned Latin, and for the Benefit of the Female Sex."

The Bishop of London addressed a circular to the Virginia clergy inquiring as to the condition of their parishes. To the question, "Are there any schools in your parish?" the almost invariable answer was: "None." To the question, "Is there any parish library?" but a single affirmative response was received. One minister replied, "We have the _The Book of Homilies_, _The Whole Duty of Man_, and _The Singing Psalms_."

It may be to this very scarcity of books that we owe that originality and vigor of thought which distinguished the leaders of the Revolution. Governor Page reported Patrick Henry as saying to him, "Naiteral parts is better than all the larnin upon yearth," and when to _naiteral parts_ we add the mastery of a few English classics, we touch the secret of the dignity and virility which mark the utterances of these men who had known so little school-training.

Randolph of Roanoke, the youngest son of his widowed mother, was taught by her as a little child. As he grew older he was left a good deal to his own devices, but his mind was not idle, and he had access to an unusually good library. Before he was ten, he had read Voltaire's "History of Charles XII.," "Reynard the Fox," and odd volumes of _The Spectator_. The "Arabian Nights" and Shakespeare were his delight. "I had read them," he writes, "with Don Quixote, Quintus Curtius, Plutarch, Pope's Homer, Robinson Crusoe, Gulliver, Tom Jones, Orlando Furioso, and Thomson's Seasons, before I was eleven years old."

Washington, unlike most of his compeers, was sent to school, first in the little cabin taught by the sexton of the church, a man named Hobby, and afterward to a more advanced school taught by a Mr. Williams. Here he decorated his writing and ciphering books, school-boy fashion, with nondescript birds done in pen-flourishes, and with amateur profile portraits. Here also he copied legal forms, bills of exchange, bonds, etc., till he acquired that methodical habit which afterward stood him in good stead. There were good and faithful teachers in those days, though they were not too common. The Scotch seem to have done most of the teaching in the colonies, and to have done it well. Jefferson recalls the "mouldy pies and good teaching" of the Scotch minister who taught him the languages; and many a Scotch name figures in the list of parish school-teachers.

In an old file of the _Maryland Gazette_ we may read the advertisement of John and Sally Stott, who propose to open a school "where English, arithmetic, book-keeping, mensuration, knitting, sewing and sample-work on cat-gut and muslin are to be taught in an easy and intelligible manner."

The charges for schooling were not extravagant. The Reverend Devereux Jarratt taught a "plain school" for the equivalent of about thirty-three dollars a year. A tutor from London received a salary of thirty pounds sterling, and Jonathan Boucher charged for tuition twenty-five pounds a year, "the boy to bring his own bed."

Boucher was at one time tutor to Parke Custis, then a somewhat headstrong boy of sixteen. Young Custis wished to travel abroad with his tutor, but Washington wrote to Mr. Boucher: "I can not help giving it as my opinion that his education is by no means ripe enough for a travelling tour. Not that I think his becoming a mere scholar is a desirable education for a gentleman, but I conceive a knowledge of books is the basis upon which all other knowledge is to be built, and in travelling he is to become acquainted with men and things rather than books." Later in the letter he adds: "It is to be expected that every man who travels with a view of observing the laws and customs of other countries should be able to give some description of the situation and government of his own."

Boucher took just the opposite ground from his patron. He argued that the best education consisted in mingling with men and seeing the culture of other lands. He lamented the provinciality of Virginia and its lack of intercourse with the great world. "Saving here and there a needy emigrant from Great Britain, an illiterate captain of a ship, or a subaltern merchant, to whom," he asks, "can a Virginia youth apply for a specimen of the manners, etc., of any other people?"

The majority of the landed gentry were in sympathy with the views of Boucher rather than with those of Washington. Travel and education abroad, especially in England, were universally desired, and the influence on the colonies was marked, as the lad brought back with him from Oxford the views of the Cavaliers and their descendants, as the ship which bore him brought back the carved furniture, the massive plate, the leather-bound books, the coat of arms, and the panels for the hall fireplace.

The record of matriculations at Oxford contains many colonial names. Here is "Henry Fitzhugh, s. William, of Virginia, Gent." (Christ Church) matriculated at the age of fifteen. Christopher and Peter Robinson, and Robert Yates, set down as from "_Insula Virginiæ_," register at Oriel, and Lewis Burwell at Balliol. The average age of matriculation among these colonial youth is eighteen; but boys were often sent to England, or "home," as the colonists delighted to call it, long before they were old enough for University life.

Governor Spotswood's grandsons were sent over seas to Eton by their guardian, Colonel Moore, their father being dead. They boarded with a Mrs. Young, who showed a wonderfully good and tender heart, for when their guardian ceased to send remittances and the poor boys were left without resources, this kind landlady not only remitted the price of their board, which with charges for candles, fire and mending amounted to over twenty-eight pounds sterling, but actually supplied them with pocket-money to the extent of three pounds, and paid the expenses of "salt money, cost of montem poles, and montem dinner." When they left, Alexander wrote from London to their benefactress a manly if somewhat prim little letter, commencing: "Hon{d} Madam, I write by this opportunity to thank you for all your past favors to me and my brother. I hope it will be in my power one day or another to make you amends for all you have done for us," and signing himself, "Your humble servant, Alexander Spotswood." It is gratifying to know that these protestations did not come to naught, but that the good lady was repaid, not only in money, but in the life-long gratitude of the boys, who became distinguished American citizens.

The inheritance of a high and quick spirit came fairly to the boys of their race. Some quarter of a century before this letter was written, the Virginia _Gazette_ printed a communication from the father of these lads, then himself a boy. It is headed "An Hint for a Hint," and runs:

"Mr. Parks,

"I have learnt my Book, so far as to be able to read plain English,
when printed in your Papers, and finding in one of them my Papa's name
often mentioned by a scolding man called Edwin Conway, I asked my Papa
whether he did not design to answer him. But he replyd: 'No child,
this is a better Contest for you that are a school Boy, for it will
not become me to answer every Fool in his Folly, as the Lesson you
learned the other day of the Lion and the Ass may teach you.' This
Hint being given me, I copied out the said Lesson and now send you
the same for my Answer to Mr. Conway's Hint from

"Sir, your Humble Servant
"JOHN SPOTSWOOD.

"Fab. 10. A Lion and an Ass.

"An Ass was so hardy once as to fall a Mopping and Braying at a Lion.
The Lion began at first to shew his Teeth and to stomach the Affront,
But upon second Thoughts, Well, says he, Jeer on and be an Ass still,
take notice only by the way, that it is the Baseness of your Character
that has saved your Carcass."

No doubt young John and Alexander treasured this piece of youthful audacity as a precious tradition to be told and retold to admiring schoolmates at Montem dinner, under the shadow of Eton Towers.

In the Bland letters, there is an itemized account of the charges for a colonial boy at boarding school. Master Bland's expenses, when under the tuition of Mr. Clark, amounted to twenty-four pounds, ten shillings and two pence, and include the bills sent in by the apothecary, hosier, linen-draper, music-master and "taylor," and also the charges for "weekly allowance and lent, shugar and black-shoe."

The charge for _shugar_ is twelve shillings and ninepence, which seems exorbitant in our day of cheap sweets. Master Bland's second half-year's account charges for "milliner, board, coal and candles, pocket-money and stockener."

There is no record of the profit Master Bland received from his schooling abroad, but it is to be feared that he shared the character of his young fellow-countrymen, of whom Jones reports that "they are noted to be more apt to spoil their school-fellows than improve themselves." The wildness of the young colonial students this reverend apologist accounts for very ingeniously, by explaining that the trouble lies in their being "put to learn to persons that know little of their temper, who keep them drudging in pedantick methods, too tedious for their volatile genius."

The young Colonial Cavaliers exercised their _volatile genius_ at home as well as abroad, as any one may know who turns the yellow pages of the manuscript college records at William and Mary. Under Stith's presidency we find "Y{e} following orders unanimously agreed to":

"1. Ordered y{t} no scholar belonging to any school in the college, of what age, rank or quality so ever, do keep any race horse at y{e} college in y{e} town, or anywhere in the neighborhood, y{t} they be not anyway concerned in making races or in backing or abetting those made by others, and y{t} all race-horses kept in y{e} neighborhood of y{e} college and belonging to any of y{e} scholars, be immediately dispatched and sent off and never again brought back, and all this under pain of y{e} severest animadversion and punishment."

A second ordinance forbids any scholar belonging to the college, "to appear playing or betting at y{e} billiard or other gaming tables, or to be any way concerned in keeping or fighting cocks, under pain of y{e} like severe animadversions or punishments."

They were an unruly and turbulent set of school-boys, these collegians, and the college records are full of their misdoings. Thomas Byrd, being brought before the Faculty on a charge of breaking windows "in a rude and riotous mannor," was sentenced to submit to a whipping in the Grammar-School, or be expelled the college. The blood of the Byrds rebelled against such ignominy, and the boy refused to submit. His father then appeared before the Faculty and offered to compel him to obey, but this vicarious submission was considered inadequate, and he was dropped from the college. Again, it appears, that "whereas John Hyde Saunders has lately behaved himself in a very impudent and unheard-of mannor to the master of the Grammar-School," he is directed to quit the college. The ushers are ordered to visit the rooms of the young gentlemen at least three times a week, after nine o'clock at night, and report to the president any irregularities.

"No boy to presume to go into the kitchen." "No victuals sent to private rooms." "No boy to lounge upon the college steps." So run the rules. They further provide "y{t} a person be appointed to hear such boys as shall be recommended by their parents or guardians, a chapter in the Bible every school-day at 12 o'clock, and y{t} he have y{e} yearly salary of one pistole for each boy so recommended." All these regulations, "animadversions," and punishments make us realize that in spite of its high-sounding charter, William and Mary was, after all, only a big boarding-school.

When its charter was granted, a curious condition was attached, providing that the president and professors should yearly offer two copies of Latin verses to the Governor or Lieutenant-Governor of Virginia. The bargain seems to have been strictly kept, for _The Gazette_ records:

"On this day sen-night, the president, masters and scholars of William and Mary College went, according to their annual custom, in a body to the Governor's, to present His Honor with two copies of Latin verses in obedience to their charter, as a grateful acknowledgement for two valuable tracts of land given the said college by their late Majesties, King William and Queen Mary. Mr President delivered the verses to His Honor and two of the young gentlemen spoke them."

In 1700, the college authorities ushered in the century with a grand celebration, including prize declamations and various exercises. The novel and exciting entertainment roused such an interest that visitors came from Annapolis and the Maryland shore, and even from the far-away colony of New York, while Indians thronged the streets to watch the gayety. The town then was at the height of its prosperity.

Not content with a palace, a capitol, and a college, Williamsburg actually aspired to own a bookstore, which was after all not altogether unreasonable, since there was no considerable one south of Boston. Accordingly the college authorities met to consider the matter, and finally resolved that--

"M{r} W{m} Parks intending to open a book-seller's shop in this Town, and having proposed to furnish the students of this College with such books at a reasonable price as the Masters shall direct him to send for, and likewise to take all the schoolbooks now in the College and pay 35 p. cent on the sterling cost to make it currency, his proposals are unanimously agreed to."

The first building of William and Mary College was planned, so they say, by Sir Christopher Wren, but it was burned down, one night only five years after the grand celebration, "the governor and all the gentlemen in town coming to the lamentable spectacle; many of them getting out of their beds." Again and again the building has suffered from the flames. Yet as it stands there to-day--with its stiff, straight walls stained and weather-beaten, its bricks laid up in the good old English fashion of stretchers and headers, its steps worn with the tread of generations--it is full of a pensive charm. Its record is one for Virginians to be proud of, since as one of them boasts:

"It has sent out for their work in the world twenty-seven soldiers of the Revolution, two attorney-generals, nearly twenty members of Congress, fifteen senators, seventeen governors, thirty-seven judges, a lieutenant-general, two commodores, twelve professors, four signers of the Declaration, seven cabinet officers, a chief justice, and three presidents of the United States."

If I was tempted at first, as I stood before the brick, barn-like building, to exclaim at its ugliness, my frivolous criticism was abashed, as this phantom procession filed through its doorway, for I too, who am not of their blood, claim a share in their greatness, and salute their names with reverent humility.

Laws, Punishments, and Politics

Y{e} Stocks.]

It is a far cry from Patrick Henry, pouring out defiance against the king, while his listeners as one man echoed his final words, "Liberty or death!" back to the night of the arrival of the English ships in Chesapeake Bay, when the box given under the royal seal was opened, and the names of the council who were to govern Virginia were found within. It would have seemed to the group of men standing about the sacred casket on that April night incredible that, within their province of Virginia in the next century, the authority of the king and the power of all England should be openly and successfully set at defiance. Yet so it came to pass, naturally, gradually and inevitably.

The first settlers in Virginia lived in a political condition which may be described as a communism, subject to a despotism. Their goods were held in a common stock, and they drew their rations from "a common kettel," but all the time they felt the strong arm of royal authority stretched across the Atlantic, to rule their affairs without consent of the governed. Both communism and despotism worked badly for the settlers. The first promoted idleness, the second encouraged dissensions, discontent and tale-bearing, each party to a Colonial quarrel being eager to be the first to run home and lay his side of the story before the King. Sir Thomas Dale changed all this communistic living. "When our people were fed out of the common store," writes one of the earliest settlers, "glad was he who could slip from his labor, or slumber over his taske he cared not how; nay, the most honest among them would hardly take so much true paines in a weeke, as now for themselves they will doe in a day, neither cared they for the increase, presuming that howsoever the harvest prospered, the generall store must maintain them, so that wee reaped not so much corne from the labours of thirtie, as now three or foure doe provide for themselves."

Dale allotted to every man three acres of ground, and compelled each to work both for himself and for the public store. His rule was, on the whole, beneficent though arbitrary; but the settlers constantly suffered from the lack of power to make laws, or arrange their simplest affairs without seeking permission from king and council.

Fortunately, after a few years a radical change was wrought; a change whose importance cannot be overestimated. In 1619 Sir George Yeardley came over as Governor of Virginia. He proclaimed that "those cruel laws by which the Ancient Planters had so long been governed" were now done away with, and henceforth they were to be ruled by English law, like all other English subjects. Nor was this all. Shortly after, followed one of those epoch-making declarations which posterity always wonders not to find printed in italics: "That the planters might have a hande in the governing of themselves, yt was grannted that a general assemblie shoulde be helde yearly once, whereat were to be present, the governor and counsell, with two burgesses from each plantation, freely to be elected by the inhabitants thereof, this assemblie to have power to make and ordaine whatsoever lawes and orders should by them be thought good and profitable for their subsistence."

Thus the same year and almost the same month witnessed two events of deep significance to Virginia, the purchase of the first African slaves, and the establishment of the first free Assembly in America. So strangely are the threads of destiny blended! And thus, while the strife between king and people was just beginning to cast its shadow over England, there was quietly inaugurated here at James City a government essentially "of the people, by the people, and for the people."

The measures they adopted at this first free Assembly, the laws they made, the punishments they imposed, are of little importance. The fact of mighty moment is that they met, and though the scope of their power was limited, to be extended two years later, and though they were afterward to struggle on through varying fortunes to the heights of entire freedom, yet this Assembly of 1619 was forever to be memorable as the germ of representative government on this continent.

In the _Quire_ of the old brick church, these Burgesses gathered, twenty-two of them, from James City, Charles City, Henrico, Kiccowtan (now Hampton), Martin-Brandon, Smythe's Hundred, Martin's Hundred, Argall's Gift, Lawne's Plantation, Ward's Plantation, and Flowerda Hundred. First, led by Parson Bucke, they asked God's guidance; and on the principle that heaven helps those who help themselves, they then set themselves to the task of framing laws to take the place of the "Iron Code" which Sir Thomas Dale had brought over from the Netherlands, and which strongly suggested the methods of the Inquisition.