His Letter Book was a large volume containing copies of letters in regard to the Colony's affairs. Such a collection of reproduced missives betokened the carefulness and preparedness of the possessor. A fragment of it was discovered in a Halifax grocery, and published by the Massachusetts Historical Society. Six of these letters found were written by Bradford alone, and three jointly. They were mostly official. Appended to this correspondence file was the Governor's interesting description and short historical review of New England, written in metre and rhyme.
Though we who speak of William Bradford as our Forefather should not be moved by pride, as no man is responsible for his own birth, it causes in us profound gratitude that we can affirm our relationship to one who has been called the first great American. Men of renown before his day, a few of them, had a touch with this country, as the very conspicuous connections of famous discoverers; but the epithet applies to him as a continuous resident of the land. His life and labors were permanently given to it as his adopted abode, for he never left it from the day of his coming in the prime of his manhood. In what, let us ask, did his greatness consist? Others shared in heroic faithfulness, to the limit of their powers or opportunities. His was the magnitude of an immovable fidelity joined with marked ability, though, as with Washington, his mental genius was not the most brilliant. But he carried well and long exceedingly weighty responsibilities.
When has a combination of so many most critical problems confronted a magistrate? Weakened by disease which threatened utter extermination, the Colony encountered a tedious period of famine; it was menaced by hostile savage tribes stronger than the friendly natives; the malevolence of foreign persecution plotted the overthrow of its chosen religious order; treason sprang up in its midst; a staggering weight of financial obligations, made heavier by accidents and outrageous injustice, lay upon them for a quarter of a century; and the seventh problem, which stayed by the Governor till his final release, was that presented by the frequent loss of citizens attracted by new settlements, a circumstance so serious that the question of moving the whole Colony was raised as late as 1644. In all the arduous activities occasioned by these facts, he possessed the quality of steady endurance. His soul was reposeful in energy, while his underlying faith made him an optimist but not a visionary, and lent both basis and balance in his working.
To Bradford also belongs the singular honor of being the first ruler to demonstrate, with his associates, true Christian democracy, not exaggerated into communism, as a successful principle of government.
Peaceful was his departure, from the scene of his colossal tasks. He last presided at court February 13, 1657. The annual meeting in March found him absent. But though his health declined for a few months, to be followed by a sudden and acute disease in May, the end came soon. One night he was so moved with anticipations of the hereafter, that he said in the morning to those about him, "The good Spirit of God has given me a pledge of my happiness in another world, and the first-fruits of eternal glory." About nine o'clock on the next day, May 19, after he had dictated his will, his breathing ceased.
His endeared form was laid to rest in the brow of the gently swelling eminence which overlooks the site of his homestead of thirty-six years and the blue bay seemingly meeting the heavens beyond the harbor, suggestive of the final voyage to scenes of yet nobler liberty. His obsequies were observed with fitting dignity, accentuated by resounding volleys. The distinguished clergyman, Cotton Mather of Boston, wrote in eulogy, that he was "lamented by all the colonies of New England as a common father to them all."
Let his own simple verses summarize his career.
"From my years young in days of youth,
God did make known to me his truth,
And call'd me from my native place
For to enjoy the means of grace.
In wilderness he did me guide,
And in strange lands for me provide.
In fears and wants, through weal and woe,
A pilgrim, past I to and fro;
Oft left of them whom I did trust;
How vain it is to rest on dust!
Wars, wants, peace, plenty, have I known;
And some advanc'd, others thrown down.