The Oath of a Free-man
I (A. B.) being by Gods providence an Inhabitant, and Freeman, within the Jurisdiction of this Commonwealth; do freely acknowledge my self to be subject to the Government thereof: And therefore do here swear by the great and dreadful Name of the Ever-living God, that I will be true and faithfull to the same, and will accordingly yield assistance & support thereunto, with my person and estate, as in equity I am bound; and will also truly endeavour to maintain and preserve all the liberties and priviledges thereof, submitting my self to the wholesome Lawes & Orders made and established by the same. And further that I will not plot or practice any evill against it, or consent to any that shall so do; but will timely discover and reveal the same to lawfull Authority now here established, for the speedy preventing thereof. Moreover, I doe solemnly bind my self in the sight of God, that when I shal be called to give my voyce touching any such matter of this State, in which Freemen are to deal, I will give my vote and suffrage as I shall judge in mine own conscience may best conduce and tend to the publike weal of the body, without respect of persons, or favour of any man. So help me God in the Lord Jesus Christ. [1634.] From the copy given in John Childe’s “New-Englands Jonas cast up at London.” (London, 1647), which the preface states was printed in Massachusetts-Bay, by itself.
To this form of The Oath of a Free man attaches the great additional interest of being the first work printed in the United States of America.
Under date of Mo. 1. (March, 1638/9) John Winthrop’s Journal states: “A printing house was begun at Cambridge by one Daye, at the charge of Mr. Glover, who died on sea hitherward. The first thing which was printed was the freemen’s oath; the next was an almanac made for New England by Mr. William Peirce, mariner; the next was the Psalms newly turned into metre.”
For nearly three hundred years no copy of this printed paper has been known to be extant. The ceaseless search for a copy in this country by antiquarians, bibliographers and historians would long ago have been successful, if even a single copy had been preserved in either the institutions of the State, or Nation, or in individual or family possession.
It would be difficult to exaggerate the patriotic feeling of our people, if it were known that a copy of this interesting and valuable state paper, the first fruit of the printing-press in this country, whose ringing sentences of freedom preceded by nearly a century and a half the Declaration of Independence, had been discovered at this late day.
Fully a quarter of a century ago, while engaged in making a search for early printed American publications in the Catalogue of printed books in the British Museum—a great and monumental work, worthy in its scholarly completeness of the Government which fostered its publication, and of inestimable importance and benefit to scholars in every land—the following entry under the heading “Freeman” seemed to me to warrant more than passing observation and curiosity which the intervening years have failed to satisfy:
—The Oath of a Freeman. B. L.
[London, 1645?] s. sh. 12º. 11,626. aa. (1, 2.)
An analysis of this entry seems to show points of resemblance following closely the known facts regarding the first work printed in this country.
The title is the one given by John Childe presumably from the earliest printed copy in his possession. The abbreviated title, freemen’s oath, as given by John Winthrop, first appearing in the Code of 1648, which seems to justify the belief that Winthrop wrote his Journal some years after the press was established.
The letters B. L. indicate that the printed text is in black-letter. While there is no evidence of the number and kinds of fonts of type purchased for the first press by Joseph Glover, there is an itemized statement of the number and names of the fonts of type for the second press sent over later by the Society for Propagating the Gospel among the Indians in New England, for printing the Bible in the Indian language, and among them is a small font of “blacks,” i.e. black-letter, which would indicate that a small font of that letter was generally considered a part of the equipment of a printing-office of the period. Even if this was not so, on the good authority of Isaiah Thomas, the type used in printing the Bay Psalm Book, of 1640, was “small bodied English,” a type commonly used for works in quarto and folio, which approximates in size to black-letter, but without the ceriphs, or fine projecting points of that letter. It is not unreasonable to suppose that a cataloguer might, hastily, consider the thickly inked, heavy press-work we find in the Bay Psalm Book, under the same conditions in a somewhat crudely printed sheet, to be black-letter printing.
The brackets enclosing the imprint indicate that the place and date given do not appear on the printed sheet, but are the personal judgment of the cataloguer regarding them. Having already determined the printing to be in black-letter English, it naturally follows in his judgment that the place of printing is London. His guess of the year, 1645, which he queries, is a close one; but is open to the criticism that an Oath of a Freeman could never have been printed or exacted in England during the reign of Charles the First. Ten years later, under Cromwellian rule, it might have been done. But the only place on earth it could have been printed and exacted without imprisonment, in 1645, was in the freemen’s Colony of Massachusetts-Bay.
In this connection it may be well to observe, as a further illustration that Governor Winthrop wrote his Journal years later than the events he records, that his date of 1638/9, should be one year later, for the date of the half-sheet almanac by William Peirce, mariner. Following Winthrop, if the almanac was calculated for the year beginning in March, 1639, it would suppose its printing sometime before the 25th of March, or in the Julian year 1638. This would leave nearly a whole year during which no other printing was done. If the almanac was calculated for the year beginning in March, 1640—the year the Bay Psalm Book is dated—then it would suppose the Oath, and the Almanac, printed in the eleventh or twelfth months of the Julian year 1639, which is more probable. Isaiah Thomas, writing in 1810, leaves this question in doubt by not stating whether his January, 1639, refers to the Julian, or the Gregorian Calendar.
To continue our analysis: The format, and size, agrees with the known facts that the Oath was printed “on the face of a half sheet of small paper.” The shelf-mark indicates the permanent place on the shelves of the Library.
The singular appearance of the only known copy of this important and interesting document in the Colonial history of New England, nearly three hundred years after its printing, so far from its place of publication, calls for explanation, which is apparently furnished in a work published in London, in April, 1647, entitled: “New-Englands Jonas cast up at London.” On the title-page it purports to be written by Major John Childe, a brother of Doctor Robert Childe, of Hingham, who was detained by order of the General Court of Massachusetts-Bay; but according to William Hubbard, in his History, and affirmed by John Winthrop, in his Journal, the real author of everything, except the Preface, was William Vassall.
Fac-Simile of Original Manuscript
in the Handwriting of Thomas Dudley,
in the Public Library of the City of Boston
Issued with Bulletin, July, 1894
Fac-Simile of Original Manuscript
in the Handwriting of Thomas Dudley,
in the Public Library of the City of Boston
Issued with Bulletin, July, 1894
Fac-Simile of Original Manuscript
in the Handwriting of John Winthrop,
in the Public Library of the City of Boston
Issued with Bulletin, July, 1894
Its odd title was suggested by a remark made by the Reverend John Cotton, in a Thursday-Lecture, preached November 5, 1646, just previous to the departure of the vessel which was carrying back to England some of the dissatisfied signers of a Petition to the General Court, who rumor gave were taking with them this and other incriminating documents against the Government of the Colony. The learned preacher took for his text, Canticles, II: 15. “Take us the foxes, the little foxes, which destroy the vines,” and made pointed allusions to the current rumors, and the punishment which their acts would receive in a stormy voyage, and how it could be averted. But later we shall let Vassall tell the story in his own words. The effect upon his hearers was so great that some who had engaged passage withdrew rather than risk the dangers of a stormy voyage in the winter season.
After a brief summary of the reasons for publication the Preface states that the Relation is made up of the following particulars:
First, the Petition of the greater part of the Inhabitants of Hingham, and the proceedings therein.
Secondly, a Petition of Doctor Child and others delivered to the General Court at Boston with some passages thereon.
Thirdly, the Capital Laws of the Massachusetts Bay, with the Freemans Oath, as they are printed there by themselves.
The italics are mine. Here, then, we have direct proof confirming the statement of John Winthrop that the Freeman’s Oath was printed at Cambridge in 1639, and, in the body of the work, is given the full text of The Oath of a Free man as printed. It is probable that only the number of copies necessary for officials authorized to administer the Oath were printed, and the copy taken to England was surreptitiously obtained from some member of the Government. Its importance lay in the fact that it afforded printed evidence that nowhere in it is any reference made to the King’s Majesty, or of allegiance to any power on earth save that of their own Government as constituted.
Fac-Simile of Original Manuscript
in the Handwriting of John Winthrop,
in the Public Library of the City of Boston
Issued with Bulletin, July, 1894
The Capital Laws were printed at Cambridge in 1642, probably under the same restriction, as to number; and, as printed evidence, open to the same construction as the Oath. Whatever the purpose, however, it had been forestalled some four years earlier when the Capital Laws were re-printed in London in a folio broadside. The copy in the British Museum bears the Colophon: “Printed first in New-England, and re-printed in London for Ben. Allen in Popes-Head Allen [sic] 1643.”
Fourthly, a relation of that story of Jonas verbatim as it was delivered to me in writing by a Gentleman that was then a passenger in the ship.
“When the first ship that came this year 1646 from New-England, was almost ready to come from thence; Mr. Cotton in his Thursday-Lecture at Boston, preached out of that Scripture, Cant. 2, 15. Take us the little Foxes, &c. In his uses took occasion to say, That if any shall carry any Writings, Complaints against the people of God in that Country it would be a Jonas in the ship. * * He also advised the Ship-Master, that if storms did arise, to search if they had not in any Chest or Trunk any such Jonas aboard, which if you find (said he) I do not advise you to throw the persons over-board, but the Writings; or words to that effect. Whereupon, having great storms (as could not be otherwise expected) some of the Passengers remembering Mr. Cotton’s Sermon, it seems were much affected with what he had said; and a woman amongst them came up from between the decks about Midnight, or after, in a distracted passionate manner to Mr. William Vassall who lay in the great Cabin, but for the present was in the Sterage-door-way looking abroad: she earnestly desired him, if there were any Jonas in the ship, that as Mr. Cotton had directed it might be thrown over-board, with many broken expressions to that purpose. He asked her why she came to him? and she said because it was thought that he had some Writings against the people of God: but he answered her, He had nothing but a Petition to the Parliament that they might enjoy the liberty of English subjects, and that could be no Jonas; and that if the best of New-Englands friends could shew him any evil in that, he would not prefer it. After this she went into the great Cabin to Mr. Tho. Fowle in like distracted manner; who told her he had nothing but the Copy of Petition which himself and others had presented to the Court at Boston; and showed, and read it to her, and then told her, That if she and others thought that to be the cause of the storm, she and they might do what they would with it; but he professed that he saw no evil in it, neither was his Conscience troubled with it. So she took it and carried it between Decks to them from whom she came, and they agreed to throw it over-board and it was thrown over-board: but the storm did not leave us upon the throwing of the Paper over-board as it is reported; for they had many great storms after that; much lesse was the great and wonderfull deliverance which by Gods mercy he gave unto them from shipwrack and drowning at the Isles of Silly, upon the throwing of that Writing over-board; for that was thrown over long before, at least 14 dayes. Also the error is the more in this, That the report is that it was the petition to the Parliament that was thrown over-board; and it was only a Copy of a Petition to their own Court at Boston, and the Petition to the Parliament was still in the ship, together with another copy of that which was thrown over-board, and other writings of that nature, some of which are printed in this book, and were as well saved as their lives and other goods, and are here in London to be seen and made use of in convenient time.”
It is true that at any time in the intervening years of a quarter of a century I could have written to the British Museum authorities and been sure of a courteous reply; but the matter seemed too important to be settled in so prosaic a way. This, and the hope that sometime I might be able to determine the matter personally, and achieve the honor that would attach to its discovery, deterred me.
I suppose that men of all professions, in their callings, feel an unwonted glow in the achievement of some object; but I know of no greater joy than that which fills the lover of books when his long search for a rare book is rewarded. Then it is that you seem to enter into the holy of holies of delight, when the whole body thrills with suppressed emotions, the eyes moisten, and the trembling hand stretched out to take the volume does so with a touch which is almost a caress. The feeling, I think, must be somewhat akin to the “buck fever” of the deer hunter, whose mind and shaking limbs refuse to function, as he looks into the luminous eyes, and notes the startled look, and graceful beauty of his prey, until it has bounded into safety in the forest. Why, I reasoned with myself, should I give to another the pleasure of these emotions which were mine by right of discovery.
The opportunity of voyaging to England, which I had so long looked forward to, did not come to me until the Spring of the present year, and the pleasant anticipations with which I set out were comparable in my own mind with those which must have animated the Knights of Arthur’s Round Table in their quest for the holy grail. The morning after my arrival in London found me an early visitor at the British Museum. The preliminaries of admittance to the Reading-Room are not difficult, and are soon over with, and I found myself within the great rotunda, its walls lined in tiers with what is best in the literatures of the world, and from which has gone out so much that is worth while in English literature. From the Catalogue I filled out slips for some half dozen works, artfully to conceal the one uppermost in my mind, handed them in at the desk, and returned to my chosen seat to await with such calmness as I could command the culmination of years of desire. Heeding the legend that when the grail was approached by any one not perfectly pure it vanished from sight; and that to be qualified to discover it one must be perfectly chaste in thought and act, I endeavored to prepare myself for its appearance. Somewhere I have read of an Oriental visionary who attained a high degree of saintly perfection by fixing his gaze steadfastly for hours upon his navel, which a growing embonpoint made an easy thing to do, and I sought for holiness in the same way.
In time the white slips of my wants came fluttering back to me by messengers, all marked, very properly for security on account of rarity, that they could only be consulted in the North Library, until all were in but the one most desired. Then followed a much longer wait and then—the slip was handed back to me with a notation that I had given a wrong shelf-mark! Gone in an instant were all the perfectly pure and chaste thoughts with which I had been regaling myself while I was apparently looking at the wrong button on my vest. I think I could have stood the blow better if it had been that hoary old fiction of careless assistants that it was “out”, but this is a boon denied to any assistant in the British Museum, where nothing is allowed to go out. A comparison with the printed Catalogue showed an exact correspondence, and I sought the Superintendent of the Reading-Room, who assured me that the matter would have his personal attention; and for the rest of the day I busied myself with my other wants in the North Library without any word of the missing broadside reaching me. That evening, in communion with myself, I determined to throw off the mask of secrecy and frankly confide the importance of my quest to the Keeper of the Printed Books—the somewhat expressive and imposing title of the Librarian of the British Museum.
Before calling upon him I sought as an introducer Henry N. Stevens—the worthy son of an illustrious father who follows closely in his footsteps as the best authority on early printed American books in Europe—at his shop across the street from the imposing Museum building, and to him I told my story. As I proceeded his interest grew, and before I had finished he excitedly grasped my arm with one hand and his hat with the other, exclaiming: “Come with me. This is not a subject for underlings,” and rushed me across the street without pause until we were in the sanctum sanctorum of the learned and accomplished Keeper, Alfred W. Pollard. And to him I told my simple tale, and asked his assistance. Mr. Pollard is himself a bibliographer of note in his special field, and my story was not without interest to him, but he refused to share my belief that the missing broadside was what I supposed it to be, laying much stress upon the black-letter feature as proof of its English origin. The unsuccessful search for the missing broadside had evidently been called to his notice, and the failure to produce anything in the millions of books catalogued in that vast collection, he considered a challenge to the efficiency of himself and his staff of assistants. A few days later, he acknowledged failure; but gave me the interesting information that in tracing the broadside back to its accession he had found that it was acquired by the Museum in the year 1865, and formed part of a bundle of miscellaneous matter, being considered of so little importance as not even to have been mentioned in the contents of the bundle. Printing of the letter F of the Catalogue was completed in 1888, and since that time an expansion of the classification of books upon the shelves had been made, from which dated its disappearance. He would not, however, discontinue his efforts to find it. After apologizing for giving him a “bad half-hour,” which only the importance of the broadside excused, our second interview ended. On my last day in London, I went again with Mr. Stevens to call on Mr. Pollard about the matter, and told him that I had made my arrangements to fly from London to Paris on the morrow, and asked him if these old eyes of mine were never to behold the holy grail. “In black-letter?” he queried, touching the weak spot in my armor. “In duodecimo!” I countered, pointing to the rent in his own. And the third interview ended with his assurance that the search would go on until the missing broadside was found.
And there the matter rests, very much in the condition of the story of the cook who asked the skipper: “Is any thing lost when you know where it is?” And to the skipper’s gruff response, “Of course not,” he pleasantly replied: “I am glad to know that our only iron soup kettle wasn’t lost when it fell over-board into the Bay.”
Through the courtesy of our fellow-members, Henry Edwards Huntington, Esquire, and the accomplished bibliographer and librarian of his unrivaled collection of books and art, George Watson Cole, the Society is permitted to give a reproduction from the only known copy of “The Book of General Lawes and Libertyes concerning the Inhabitants of the Massachusetts”—the long-lost Code of 1648. No copy or fragment of a copy was known to be extant for over two hundred and fifty years, when, in 1906, this copy was discovered in a small private library in England, and was sold to the late Edmund Dwight Church for the highest price ever paid for an American printed book—a record which is not likely to be surpassed. The almost miraculous recovery of this volume, will, I have given my reasons to hope, sometime have a counterpart in the recovery of the only known copy of the first work printed in the United States of America—The Oath of a Free man. From the year 1641, this bore the abbreviated title of the