Beheading of an Authoritarian Archbishop

On a cold winter morning Archbishop William Laud climbed the scaffold on Tower Hill to the executioner's block. The short man who once wielded near-absolute power over England's church now faced the blade, condemned by the movement he spent years trying to crush. 

William Laud, Archbishop of Canterbury (painted 1636)

Twelve years earlier, in 1633, King Charles I appointed Laud as Archbishop of Canterbury, and he soon became England's most feared religious authority. He demanded strict adherence to all church practices—dictating the attire ministers wore, the sermons they preached, the worship they led, and even the exact position of every altar. Defiant ministers were ousted and had their ears cut off. Critics were imprisoned.

He saved his strongest hatred for the Puritans—the reformers who sought a simpler church with less Catholic influence. Laud considered their plain services and rejection of ceremony as an appalling insult to God. He hunted them down, driving thousands to flee across the Atlantic. When William Prynne, the influential Puritan leader, dared criticize his policies, Laud had him branded, his ears cropped, and thrown into prison.

But Laud's authoritarian grip and his alliance with the arrogant King Charles I helped ignite his own downfall and the English Civil War. When the Puritan Parliament gained the upper hand, Laud was among their first targets.

At age 71, after four years imprisoned in the Tower, Archbishop Laud forgave his executioner and knelt. The axe fell once, then again to completely sever the head. On January 10, 1645 the crowd watched in silence as England's most authoritarian archbishop was carried away, his dream of absolute religious conformity dying with him. 

*****

“Thus saith the Lord God, I will take away the diadem, and take off the crown: this shall be no more the same: I will exalt the humble, and will abase him that is high.”

(Ezekiel 21:26; 1599 Geneva Bible)

Puritan Parliament Defies King Charles I

King Charles I’s relationship with the Puritans in Parliament deteriorated as they pressed relentlessly for religious reform. His marriage to the French Catholic Queen, Henrietta Maria, further aggravated his rift with the radical Protestants. When he heard rumors that Parliament members encouraged Scotland to rebel against his religious authority, Charles was incensed. On January 3, 1642, his Attorney General, Sir John Bankes, read articles of impeachment against five elected officials: John Pym, John Hampden, Denzil Holles, Arthur Haselrig, and William Strode. Since no one in Parliament supported the charges, the King himself marched to the House of Commons the following day with dozens of armed guards to arrest the five men. 

Taking over the speaker’s chair, the King called out the suspects’ names, one by one, but no one responded. Charles looked to Speaker William Lenthall for help, but Lenthall merely bowed and said he could only reply as directed by the House of Commons, and he "cannot give any other answer than this."

Realizing his enemies had slipped away, the King said, "I see the birds have flown," and he stomped out. London's officials also refused to help the King hunt down the wanted men. When rumors circulated that Charles was sending soldiers into the city to force cooperation, men poured in to defend London against the King's army, fueling the fire for an approaching civil war and royal execution. 

Charles' actions triggered an unrest that rippled across the Atlantic to the American colonies, triggering a desire for greater economic and political autonomy, and ultimately an independence from the English crown. 

*****

“He hath put down the mighty from their seats, and exalted them of low degree.”

(Luke 1:52; 1599 Geneva Bible)

The Deadly Ambush of John Sassamon

When John Sassamon heard rumors of impending danger for Plymouth Colony, he had to warn them. Sassamon was pivotal in the complicated relationship between colonists and Native Americans. Born in the Massachusett tribe around 1620 when the Pilgrims arrived, Sassamon became a living symbol of the collision of European and ancient American cultures.

Sassamon was mentored in the English language and Christian religion, becoming an interpreter and intermediary between settlers and native people. As an intelligent and eager learner, he was sent to Harvard College. He worked closely with missionary John Eliot to establish communities for Native American Christians and helped translate the Bible into native languages. 

The aging Massasoit, the Wampanoag leader who first formed the alliance with Plymouth Colony, relied on Sassamon as an interpreter and advisor. When Massasoit died, his son Metacom (known as King Phillip) eventually became chief, and the bridge of peace between the two communities fractured even more, with Sassamon caught in the middle. 

In the cold of winter, Sassamon went to warn Plymouth leaders of an impending attack by Metacom, but his warning was dismissed and he was sent home unprotected. On January 29, 1675, John Sassamon was found dead in an icy pond, his neck twisted. A native American said he witnessed three of Metacom's men kill Sassamon. The men were put on trial, and a jury of six colonists and six Wampanoags found them guilty. Their execution ignited one of the bloodiest conflicts on American soil – King Philip's War. 

*****

“The wicked watched the righteous, and seeketh to slay him.”

(Psalms 37:32; 1599 Geneva Bible)

Compulsory Military Service Begins

Security was an issue for the Plymouth Pilgrims since the day they landed in 1620, but over time they strengthened their defenses for any unexpected dangers. 

A visitor from New Amsterdam colony visited Plymouth in 1627. Isaack de Rasieres noticed how their homes were arranged within a "stockade against sudden attack," and in the center of the village were four small swivel cannons. Their meetinghouse overlooking the village held six larger cannons on the upper floor, able to fire toward any inland attacks. According to de Rasieres, they were "constantly on their guard night and day." 

As the population grew, security became more challenging. Colonists spread deeper into Native American territory, making it difficult to retreat within the barricaded village. Tensions grew as native populations competed for trading rights with the colonies. Then war broke out between the Pequot nation and English colonists, ending with a fiery massacre of hundreds of Pequots, horrifying both colonists and Native Americans. The English colonies later created a defensive alliance in case of further clashes. 

While Plymouth had little trouble gathering volunteers for defense, on January 2, 1634 colony leaders demanded that every man be involved in the militia. Without exception for ministers or government officials, the law required “every person within the colony be subject to such military order for training and exercise of arms as shall be thought suitable, agreed on, and prescribed by the governor and assistants." The peace the Pilgrims enjoyed in those earliest years just could not last. 

*****

“And ye shall hear of wars, and rumors of wars: see that ye be not troubled: for all these things must come to pass, but the end is not yet.”

(Matthew 24:6; 1599 Geneva Bible)

Governor Bradford Gets a Break

In the early days of Plymouth Colony, finding leaders was no easy task. It was so difficult that in 1633, Plymouth enacted a law that required anyone who was voted in as a governor or council member to accept the position or face fines or taxes. Just months after they first landed, Governor John Carver fell ill while working in the field, dying days later. It was then that William Bradford was thrust into leadership of the colony while still recovering from his own illness. 

Bradford guided the community for twelve years before he finally got a break from his tiring work as governor on January 1, 1633. Edward Winslow, a dependable leader and diplomat, was then chosen to replace him. 

Despite the challenges of finding leaders, the Plymouth Colony continued to grow but was outpaced by the newer Puritan colony to the north. John Winthrop's colony had more strict rules regarding who could vote or hold office, requiring individuals to be acknowledged members of the Puritan congregation to be considered full citizens.

Bradford's respite from the governorship was well-deserved, but short-lived. He was voted in several times again throughout his career. His legacy as a leader continued long after his time as governor. He served intermittently for about 30 years between 1621 and 1657 and even served as a commissioner of the United Colonies of New England on multiple occasions, and twice as president. The weary leader's work proved critical to the survival and success of the Plymouth Colony. 

*****

“I am not able to bear all this people alone, for it is too heavy for me.”

(Numbers 11:14; 1599 Geneva Bible)

Robinson’s Earnest Request for Sanctuary

John Robinson’s church in Nottinghamshire could no longer tolerate the continual government harassment. Authorities demanded church leaders either conform or lose their pastoral positions. Church members were constantly under surveillance, and considered as criminals. They faced arrests, fines, and even threats of execution for unauthorized church meetings. “They could no longer continue in that condition,” said William Bradford. 

After countless secret meetings, they planned to escape to Holland, where there “was freedom of religion for all,” and many Separatist families who were “persecuted for the same cause” in England were already living there. After some frightful failed attempts to leave, many church members finally reached the safety of Holland. 

On December 2, 1609, Pastor Robinson petitioned Leiden officials, asking permission to move his church there. About one hundred people  requested “to come to live in this city by the first of May,” Robinson said, “without being a burden in the least to anyone.” It was a difficult decision for Leiden’s officials. They were under pressure from King James, who said the religious fugitives were in violation of English law, should not be allowed sanctuary in Holland, and should be surrendered into English custody. 

Two months later, Pastor Robinson received an answer from Leiden officials. The letter said they “refuse no honest persons entry to come and have their residence” so long as they “behave themselves honestly, and submit to all the laws." So Pastor Robinson moved his desperate flock to Leiden, where they lived ten years before their famous Mayflower voyage. 

*****

“Our soul is escaped, even as a bird out of the snare of the fowlers: the snare is broken, and we are delivered.”

(Psalm 124:7; 1599 Geneva Bible)

A Pilgrim Becomes a Shakespearean Star

In 1609, a fleet of English ships set out to rescue the dying colony of Jamestown, but a hurricane interrupted their journey. The Sea Venture, one of the ships, ran aground on Bermuda's jagged beach after three days of struggling to stay afloat. All the other ships made it to the shores of Virginia, except for one. A smaller ship disappeared into the ocean, carrying all its crew down with it. 

The ship's 150 passengers and crew survived and built two smaller boats to reach Jamestown, where Thomas Gates was to become the new governor. However, Stephen Hopkins, one of the passengers, challenged Gates' authority, triggering a power struggle that lasted for months, with Hopkins nearly executed for mutiny. Eventually, the survivors constructed two seaworthy vessels and made it to Jamestown, surviving over nine months on the isolated island paradise. 

Two years later, Shakespeare's play, “The Tempest”, premiered in London on November 1, 1611. The play's plot involves a shipwreck on an island and a power struggle between the leader and his subjects, including one crewmember named Stephano. The similarities between the play and the real-life story of Stephen Hopkins are not coincidental. After the Sea Venture passengers reached Jamestown, William Strachey wrote a letter detailing their ordeal, including the power struggle between Gates and Hopkins. Shakespeare likely read Strachey's account, leading many scholars to believe that Hopkins inadvertently inspired the character of Stephano in “The Tempest”, creating an unusual connection between Shakespeare and the Pilgrims of Plymouth.

*****

“Deliver me out of the mire, that I sink not: let me be delivered from them that hate me, and out of the deep waters.”

(Psalm 69:14; 1599 Geneva Bible)

The Final Salute for Captain Standish

In the autumn of 1656, Myles Standish's time was ending painfully. His legacy with the Pilgrims was both crucial and controversial. Standish had already lived in Leiden, Holland when the church of exiled English Separatists there hired him as a military leader for their new colony. As an experienced English lieutenant who valiantly fought against Spain, he seemed an ideal choice.

When they arrived in North America in 1620, Standish led the way to find a harbor for the Mayflower, identify the area’s resources, and locate possible building sites for their colony. Though he successfully kept Plymouth safe, colony leaders were worried that his fierce tactics could threaten their settlement. Standish’s New England exploits included the deadly incursions against regional tribes, fortifying Plymouth for potential threats, an armed takeover of the “lawless” and “pagan” Merrymount village, and a failed cannon attack on the northern French settlement in Penobscot Bay. However, Captain Standish proved a helpful negotiator, bringing an end to the vexing contract between Plymouth and their English investors. He also served as a longtime treasurer, road surveyor, and assistant governor. 

Standish suffered intensely in those last days from what may have been bladder cancer or kidney stones. His doctor friend, Matthew Fuller, couldn't be found in time to help. Quivering in pain, his loved ones thought it a blessing when seventy-two-year-old Myles Standish finally died on October 3, 1656, in his Duxbury home. The burial ground where he rests is now the oldest maintained cemetery in America. 

*****

“How are the mighty overthrown, and the weapons of war destroyed!”

(2 Samuel 1:26; 1599 Geneva Bible)

Samuel Gorton: A Religious Rebel Among Rebels

By late 1643, Samuel Gorton burned his bridges with the Plymouth and Massachusetts Bay colonies due to his radical religious and political beliefs. One year earlier he and his growing followers fled to Rhode Island, drawn by the religious tolerance of Roger Williams, but even Williams became alarmed at Gorton’s views. 

At his Shawomet settlement, Gorton wrote scathing letters denouncing the Massachusetts colony, and Governor John Winthrop and colony officials would take no more. They persuaded two native American leaders, caught in the crossfire of colonial disputes, to accuse Gorton of land fraud, providing Winthrop the legal grounds to dissolve Gorton’s Shawomet settlement and expand the influence of Massachusetts Bay. 

On October 3, 1643, Winthrop dispatched an ultimatum to Samuel Gorton. His people must either renounce their unorthodox beliefs, vacate the area, or face deadly consequences in order to stop the spread of their heresies. Sensing a looming attack, Gorton and his men told their families to flee while they loaded their weapons. 

When negotiations failed, Winthrop’s troops opened fire upon the building that held Gorton and his men. After days of gunfire, Gorton’s outnumbered men surrendered under the promise of safe passage to Boston and a fair trial. However, this pledge was a ruse. Upon surrendering, they were promptly imprisoned, their property confiscated, and they were swiftly condemned for their religious dissent, barely escaping execution. Samuel Gorton was yet another who discovered he was the wrong kind of religious rebel to dwell among the other rebels of New England. 

*****

“If ye bite and devour one another, take heed lest ye be consumed one of another.”

(Galatians 5:15; 1599 Geneva Bible)

Saints and Armed Sentinels: Guarding New Haven's Flocks

The New Haven Colony leaders were scrupulous in both religion and security. With the ever-present risk of hostile European seafarers or nearby native groups, they would not be caught unprepared for any unforeseen threats. They embedded sturdy barricades of tightly packed logs deep into the ground, they routinely trained their militia, and all their field workers carried muskets. 

But because the settlement was staunchly religious, leaders knew their most vulnerable time for surprise attacks was during the weekly church service. On September 1, 1640, colony leaders enacted a law requiring fully armed men to take turns guarding every side of the meetinghouse every Sunday. For security inside the building, each man must have his sword at his hip at all times, during prayers, preaching, and hymn singing. 

The system had its flaws, however, so two years later a newly created law declared that “none of the watchmen shall have liberty to sleep during the watch.” New Haven court records show hearings and steep fines for guards caught napping. After William Tuttle was found sleeping on duty, he "contritely confessed” in court “and hoped that it might be for the last time." When another citizen witnessed a guard sleeping, he entered the watch house only to find the senior guard asleep in his chair, and more guards snoring on the floor. 

Despite their imperfect system, New Haven's pastor Thomas Ruggles said the security practices continued sixty years or more "for the safety, peace, and prosperity of the plantation." 

*****

“As a shepherd searcheth out his flock, when he hath been among his sheep that are scattered, so will I seek out my sheep and will deliver them out of all places.”

(Ezekiel 34:12; 1599 Geneva Bible)

A Gruesome Coroner's Report

Rachel Ramsden of Plymouth Colony happily went on an errand for her neighbor, Alice. When she returned with the buttermilk Alice requested, there was blood on the ladder leading to a child’s sleeping loft. Four-year-old Martha was dead. The coroner’s jury reported their findings to the Plymouth Court on August 1, 1648. Alice Bishop killed her daughter.

The jury said, “We declare, that upon entering the house of Richard Bishop, we saw at the foot of a ladder... much blood.” When they climbed up to the loft, they found little Martha in her nightgown “with her throat cut..., and a bloody knife lying by the side of the child.”

In a chilling confession, Alice “confessed she did commit the aforesaid murder, and is sorry for it,” but she claimed no memory of it. She was swiftly convicted and sentenced to hang, making Alice Bishop the first woman to be executed in the colonies. The shocked community could never discover a motive.

Theories abound regarding the factors that may have contributed to Alice's actions: depression, psychosis, the Puritanical expectations of perfection, or perhaps a mother’s common stresses with all the constant physical labor in New England’s rugged frontier. Alice’s struggles may have been intensified by unresolved mourning, common among immigrants facing anxiety from the drastic changes. To this day no one knows why Martha’s young life was taken by her own mother. Two months after the jury reported their findings, Alice was hanged from the branch of a tree. 

*****

"So is it not the will of your Father which is in heaven, that one of these little ones should perish."

(Matthew 18:14; 1599 Geneva Bible)

Navigating Unauthorized Agreements

The Pilgrims stood at a crucial crossroads as they anxiously reviewed a letter from their financial backers. On July 1, 1620, only three weeks before their life-altering American journey, they were shocked to read that the Merchant Adventurers of London changed the terms of their agreement. The labor they now demanded, the extended length of the contract, and the portion of assets they would claim at the conclusion – it all seemed impossible. 

After a decade in self-exile in Holland, the desperate Pilgrims spent two years carefully planning the details of their migration. They had little bargaining room with their homes and belongings now liquidated to finance the expedition. One of the challenges during the negotiations was the lack of direct communication between the colonists in Holland and their London investors. The Pilgrims’ representatives, Robert Cushman and John Carver, had to broker the final details without consulting the Holland congregation. And Thomas Weston, the shady representative of the Merchant Adventurers, claimed that the substantial changes were essential to secure the funds. 

Though they wanted the best possible terms for their fellow Pilgrims, Cushman and Carver were aware of another looming reality; the longer they put off their transatlantic journey the more they risked arriving in the unforgiving winter of the rugged New World, far from any assistance. Caught in the web of negotiations, with reluctant investors and a fast-approaching departure date, the Pilgrims felt they had no choice but to accept the new agreement. 

*****

“He that hateth, will counterfeit with his lips, but in his heart he layeth up deceit. Though he speak favorably, believe him not.”

(Proverbs 26:24-25; 1599 Geneva Bible) 

Mary Dyer Sentenced to Death – Again.

In 1635 Mary and William Dyer sailed from England to America. Within a few years, the two conservative Puritans began shifting their religious views. They were drawn toward the controversial antinomian movement, downplaying the importance of outward morality and giving prominence to God's loving forgiveness instead.

After spending a few more years again in England, Mary returned to America as a Quaker. Their emphasis on a direct relationship with God, even receiving messages from him apart from the Bible or ministers, was anathema to the Puritans. Colony leaders created strict laws against Quakerism to prevent the heresy from spreading.

When Mary came back to Boston, they immediately arrested her and ordered her to leave. She refused, denouncing their harsh religious laws. In 1659 she was sent to the gallows, but while the noose was around her neck, she was given a reprieve and forced out of the colony. Enraged all the more by the torturous punishments given to fellow Quakers, Mary returned with a vengeance and was again arrested and sentenced to death.

Standing on the ladder, with a noose around her neck, people begged her to reconsider her views. Instead, Mary reprimanded the leaders for such immoral laws, declaring that she could not recant but would remain obedient to God's will and "abide faithful to the death." Unable to sway her, on June 1, 1660, the ladder was removed and Mary Dyer hung until she died. Soon after, the colony began reevaluating its laws regarding the Quakers. 

*****

“He hath showed thee, O man, what is good, and what the Lord requireth of thee: surely to do justly, and to love mercy, and to humble thyself, to walk with thy God.”

(Micah 6:8; 1599 Geneva Bible)

Heresy and Violence of the Governor’s Wife

Anne Eaton harbored doubts about the Puritan tradition of infant baptism. She read a book on the topic and discreetly shared it with other women, without disclosing her thoughts to her husband or church leaders. Later, Anne began to leave church services during baptism ceremonies or occasionally skipped church altogether. When asked about her odd behavior, Anne boldly said she had questions about Puritan teachings.

Pastor John Davenport responded with sermons advocating for infant baptism, yet Anne remained unconvinced. She even contradicted Davenport while he was preaching. When the pastor and church leaders held private discussions with her at home, she defiantly sat in stony silence. 

Doctrinal issues were set aside when more severe charges emerged. Reports surfaced of Anne's violent and scandalous behavior, with repeated violations of four of the Ten Commandments. The Pastor publicly listed seventeen charges, supported by multiple witnesses who claimed Anne had assaulted both servants and family members, resorting to striking, pinching, pulling, and grabbing them. She gave one person a black eye and another a bloody nose. Anne vehemently accused them of lying, stealing, immorality, and even cursing her beer. On one occasion, she slapped her mother-in-law at the kitchen table right before her husband.

There were growing suspicions that Pastor Davenport was too lenient with Anne because her husband, Theophilus Eaton, was not only the colony's governor, but also Davenport's lifelong friend. Therefore, on May 20, 1645, the church finally voted, and Anne Eaton, wife of New Haven's governor, was excommunicated. 

*****

“Moreover, if thy brother trespass against thee, go and tell him his fault between thee and him alone: if he hear thee, thou hast won thy brother. But if he hear thee not, take yet with thee one or two, that by the mouth of two or three witnesses, every word may be confirmed. And if he refuse to hear them, tell it unto the Church: and if he refuse to hear the Church also, let him be unto thee as an heathen man, and a Publican."

(Matthew 18:15-17; 1599 Geneva Bible)

Pastor John Davenport of New Haven, CT

The Wreck of the Cursed Little James

In 1623, the ship Little James set off from England with more supplies and immigrants for Plymouth Colony. Immediately the young Captain Altham faced challenges. After a one-week delay in the fog, the food supplies began spoiling. The crew blamed passenger John Jenney for neglecting the provisions, as he was busy with his pregnant wife who later gave birth on the voyage. 

The crew was further angered when the captain refused to plunder a nearby French vessel. After a slow, grueling voyage, the Little James finally arrived in Plymouth on August 5, 1623. The agitated crew protested their contract and refused to cooperate with their superiors, so Plymouth's Governor Bradford promised their pay to maintain peace. 

Come springtime, while the Little James was on a fishing assignment, the crew mutinied, forcing the captain off the ship to retrieve food supplies. On April 10, 1624, as Captain Altham returned with provisions, a furious storm slammed the ship against the rocks. The shipmaster John Bridges drowned, two crewmembers were killed, and all cargo was lost.

After costly repairs, the Little James was returned to England to recoup financial losses. Three years later, just south of England, the James was captured by pirates. The cargo was stolen and the shipmaster and crew were sold into slavery. Nothing is heard of the Little James after that. 

Looking back on the misfortune of the James, William Bradford wrote, "I fear the Adventurers did over-pride themselves in her, for she had ill success."

*****

“Why dost thou show me iniquity, and cause me to behold sorrow? for spoiling, and violence are before me: and there are that raise up strife and contention.”

(Habakkuk 1:3; 1599 Geneva Bible)

The Plymouth and Wampanoag Treaty

After European plagues decimated the population of the Wampanoags, Chief Massasoit was eager for an alliance that would help regain their prominence with neighboring tribes, especially the powerful Narragansetts. As for the Pilgrims, they longed to secure peace and security as soon as possible for the place that would be their home. On April 1, 1621, Massasoit and Governor Bradford signed a treaty.  

The Wampanoags would do no harm to the Plymouth colonists, and if such a thing happened the offender would be delivered to Plymouth leaders for punishment. 

If a colonist or Wampanoag stole something from the other party, the item would be returned. 

The Wampanoags and colonists would defend each other against unjust attacks by other groups. 

Massasoit would inform neighboring tribes of the treaty to help encourage peace with the colonists. 

When the Wampanoags and colonists visited each other, they would leave their weapons behind. 

Finally, the Pilgrims promised that England's King James would consider Massasoit a friend and ally. 

This treaty may be at the center of what Americans call the “first Thanksgiving” – the harvest feast held at Plymouth colony with their Wampanoag neighbors. One of the Pilgrims’ activities during the feast was target shooting with their muskets. Soon after the loud musket cracks echoed over the land, Massasoit arrived with ninety men. Learning that there was no attack against the colony, he sent out a hunting party that quickly returned with five deer to add to the three-day feast. 

*****

“If it be possible, as much as in you is, have peace with all men.”

(Romans 12:18; 1599 Geneva Bible)

Dismissed by the Church: The Defiance of Richard Clifton

Richard Clifton (Clyfton) was a troublemaking minister during the late 1500s and early 1600s. He faced multiple disciplinary meetings for his noncompliance with church customs like announcing church holy days, making the sign of the cross during baptisms, or wearing a traditional white clergy robe. The Church of England dismissed him from his duties on March 15, 1605, when he would not pledge submission to new church laws. 

Finding kinship with Separatists in northern Nottinghamshire, Clifton joined the unauthorized church in Scrooby. There he became a crucial early mentor to William Brewster, William Bradford, and Pastor John Robinson who became the Pilgrims’ most cherished spiritual shepherd.  

After many Scrooby Separatists fled to Holland to escape English persecution, Clifton followed them to Amsterdam in 1608. He emerged as a prominent writer championing Separatist views and rebuking the English church. However, soon his views softened. Renouncing his earlier dogmatic positions, he began criticizing his former religious partners. 

The conflicts between Separatist churches in Amsterdam prompted John Robinson’s flock to move to Leyden. Clifton passed away in Amsterdam in 1616, four years before many among his former church left Holland for rugged New England.  

Despite Clifton’s surprising religious reversal, William Bradford remembered his former mentor fondly, describing him as a “fatherly old man” with a “great white beard, and it was a pity that such a reverend old man should be forced to leave his country, and at that age go into exile. But it was his lot, and he bore it patiently.”

*****

“We are afflicted on every side, yet are we not in distress: we are in doubt, but yet we despair not. We are persecuted, but not forsaken: cast down, but we perish not.”

(2 Corinthians 4:8-9; 1599 Geneva Bible)

A Shepherd Rests in Holland

Captivated by the Puritan spirit at Cambridge University, John Robinson's convictions strengthened under the mentorship of the bold Separatist leader, Richard Clifton. And when Clifton went to Holland, Robinson and his flock soon followed. 

Away from King James' religious constraints and the unyielding Anglican church, Robinson's theology matured at Leiden University while faithfully leading a passionate community of English Separatists. His care for his congregation, theological depth, and heartfelt devotion earned him their love and admiration.

When rumors of war with Spain arose, Robinson was at the center of their plans to flee to the American continent. There they could plant a colony of like-minded Separatists, a community that championed holiness, faithfulness, and morality. As plans unfolded, they faced the harsh reality that not everyone could go. Robinson would stay with the remainder of the church and join his dear friends later in New England. This never happened. 

Nearly five years later, in late February, Robinson fell seriously ill but found the strength to preach one last time. One week later, on March 1, 1625, the fifty-year-old pastor died in Leiden, leaving a brokenhearted congregation. 

The Pilgrims of Plymouth, still anticipating Robinson's arrival, were devastated when they learned of his death. Governor William Bradford noted that Robinson's "adversaries had been long and continually plotting how they might hinder his coming here, but the Lord had appointed him a better place." A public plaque marks the site of Robinson's home in the city of Leiden, where he is now buried. 

*****

“Now we beseech you brethren, that ye acknowledge them which labor among you, and are over you in the Lord, and admonish you. That ye have them in singular love for their work’s sake.”

(1 Thessalonians 5:12-13; 1599 Geneva Bible)

A Puritan's Love on Valentine's Day

John Winthrop (future leader of Massachusetts Bay Colony) worked long stretches in London as his wife remained in Suffolk, and their letters are ideals of Puritan romance. (Those letters are freely available on GoogleBooks by clicking this link.) The following letter from John Winthrop to Margaret is surprising in its reference to Valentine’s Day given Puritan's usual disregard of Catholic or "pagan" traditions. Perhaps Shakespeare's romantic tales, popular in Winthrop’s day, may have influenced him. Winthrop departed for America soon after this letter, while Margaret would join him a year later. 

[NOTE: I’ve carefully modernized this letter for clarity, but you can see the original text just below. DWW]

My sweet wife, 

Since I have a suitable messenger to bring you this letter, and I’ve such deep feelings of affection for you, I take this time to write, though I hope to be with you soon. 

The Lord our God has often brought us together in comfort when we have long been apart, and if it is good for us, he will yet do so. When I was in Ireland, he brought us together again. When I was sick here in London, he restored us together again. How many dangers, even brushes with death, have you experienced, yet the Lord has given me the joy of still having you?

If he was not watching over us, death and misery would not only be waiting for us just overseas but at every step in every journey. And isn’t he the God there at America as well as at home? Aren’t his power and plans the same in New England as they’ve been in Old England? If our lives please him, he can command deliverance and safety in all places and can make the stones and beasts, even raging seas and our very enemies, to be upon our side. But, if we sin against him, he can raise up evil against us out of our own bellies, houses, or estates. 

My good wife, trust in the Lord who has been faithful to you. He will be better to you than any husband and will bring your husband back again with even more blessing. 

But now I must close, with all the warm greetings I have given this awaiting messenger to send so that he will be all the more glad to help. 

I kiss you, my sweet wife, and bless you and our family, and now I rest. 

   Ever yours,
John Winthrop
February 14, 1629

You must be my valentine, for no one has challenged me.*

* This is likely a touch of humor – John is playfully grateful that no one has taken Margaret away from him (i.e., “challenged” him). 

___________________________

Here is John Winthrop's Valentine letter in his original wording and spelling: 

My sweet wife,

The opportunitye of so fitt a messinger, and my deepe engagement of Affection to thee, makes me write at this tyme, though I hope to followe soone after. The Lorde our God hath ofte brought vs togither with comfort, when we haue been longe absent, and if it be good for vs, he will doe so still: when I was in Irelande he brought vs togither againe: when I was sicke heer at London, he restored vs togither againe: how many dangers neer death hast thou been in thy selfe and yet the Lorde hath granted me to inioye thee still: if he did not watch ouer vs, we need not goe ouer sea to seeke death or miserye, we should meet it at euery steppe, in euerye iournye: and is not he a God abroad as well as at home? is not his power and prouidence the same in N E that it hath been in old E if our wayes please him he can commande deliuerance and safetye in all places, and can make the stones of the feild, and the beastes yea, the raginge seas and our verye enemies, to be in league with vs. but if we sinn against him, he can rayse vp euill against vs out of our owne bowells, howses, estates etc. my good wife, trust in the Lorde, whom thou hast found faithfull, he wilbe better to thee then any husband: and will restore thee thy husband with aduantage: but I must ende: with all our salutations with which I haue laden this bearer, that he may be the more kindly wellcome: So I kisse my sweet wife and blesse thee and all ours, and rest.”

Thine ever, 
Jo. Winthrop
February 14, 1629. 

Thou must be my valentine, for none hath challenged me.

*****

“So ought men to love their wives, as their own bodies: he that loveth his wife, loveth himself.”

(Ephesians 5:28; 1599 Geneva Bible)

Winthrop family home (Suffolk, England)

The Litigious Life of John Barnes

John Barnes, an English emigrant to Plymouth colony, was no stranger to controversy. Court records reveal a man prone to conflict, crudeness, and inebriation. On February 2, 1657, tensions flared when Barnes accused Edward Holman of luring his young servant away from work duties to go on leisure boat trips to Duxbury. The court fined Holman and promised to double the fine if it happened again. 

The two had a history of conflict. Years earlier both Holman and Barnes were fined for drunkenness on a Sunday, and Barnes, a wealthy businessman, was even sentenced to sit in the stocks. Another time Barnes was ordered to pay Holman compensation for a wrongful land deal. 

Mr. Barnes’ drinking problem continued to be an issue, leading to multiple court appearances, warnings, and even threats to punish both the establishments that served him and the people who drank with him. His "frequent and abominable drunkenness" led to a revocation of his Plymouth citizenship.

Plymouth records show that Barnes was later in court for land disputes, trespassing, harassing his neighbor's children, striking both a neighbor's son and his horse, and was yet again fined for drunkenness.  

The last mention of John Barnes in the Plymouth court records was in 1672 when a jury was called to determine his cause of death. Apparently, the sixty-year-old man was petting his bull when it turned and gored him in the leg with its horn. The wound was "both broad and deep," and he died thirty-two hours later. 

*****

“As the coal maketh burning coals, and wood a fire, so the contentious man is apt to kindle strife.”

(Proverbs 26:21; 1599 Geneva Bible)