"In the name of God, Amen. I, Nathaniel Ingersoll, of Salem, in the county of Essex, in the Province of Massachutetts Bay, in New England, being through God's mercy in good health of body and of perfect memory, but not knowing how soon my great change may come, do make this my last will, in manner and form following: First, I give up my soul to God, in and through Jesus Christ my Redeemer, when he shall please to call for it, hoping for a glorious resurrection, in and through his merits; and my body to decent burial, at the discretion of my executors; and, as for the worldly estate God hath been pleased to give me, I dispose of it in the manner following," &c.
He gives a small sum of money, varying from thirty shillings to four pounds, to each and every nephew and niece then living, twenty-two in number. He provides for an annuity of twenty shillings a year for a sister, the only remaining member of his own immediate family, to be paid into the hands of the daughter who took care of her. Not being able to leave a large amount to any, he preferred to express his love for all. There were two items in the will which may be specially preserved from oblivion.
"I give to the church in Salem Village the sum of fifty shillings in money, for the more adorning the Lord's Table, to be laid out in some silver cup, at the discretion of the Pastor, Deacons, and my overseers."—"After my wife's decease, I give to Benjamin (my adopted son) who was very dutiful to me, while he lived with me, and helpful to me since he has gone from me, all the remaining part of my whole estate, both real and personal,—excepting a small parcel of land of about two acres, that lyeth between Mrs. Walcots and George Wyotts by the highway, which I give to the inhabitants of Salem Village, for a training place for ever."
The bonds required of the executors by the Probate Court were to the amount of two hundred pounds only, showing that his movable or personal estate was a very moderate one. There is a feature in the will, which is, I think, worthy of being mentioned, as evincing the excellent judgment and practical wisdom of this man.
"I give to Hannah, my well-beloved wife, the use and improvement of my whole estate during her natural life: and my will is, that, if my wife should marry again, he that she so marrieth, before she marry, shall give sufficient security to my overseers not to make strip or waste upon any of my estate; and, if he do not become so bound, I give one-half of my whole estate to Benjamin Hutchinson, at the time of my wife's marriage."
He did not cut her off entirely, as is sometimes attempted to be done, in the event of a second marriage, but secured her and the estate against suffering in case she took that step. He adopted an effectual method to prevent any one from seeking to marry her for the purpose of getting the benefit of her whole income and a comfortable establishment upon his property without providing for its preservation; and, if she should be so improvident as to marry again without having his conditions complied with, he took care that she should not thereby expose to injury or loss more than one-half of his estate. Ingenuity is much exercised in making wills, particularly in reference to the rights, interests, and security of wives. It is worthy of consideration, whether, all things considered, Nathaniel Ingersoll's plan is not about as skilful and just as any that has been devised.
We shall meet this man again in the course of our story. I trust to your good feeling in vindication of the space I have given to his biography; being strongly impressed with a conviction, that you will agree with me,—taking into view the influence he constantly exerted, his steadfast integrity and honor, his personal dignity and public spirit,—that the life of this citizen of a retired rural community, this plain "husbandman," is itself a monument to his memory more truly glorious than many which have been reared to perpetuate the names of men whom the world has called great. The "training place" has been carefully preserved. Occupying a central point, by the side of the principal street, this pretty lawn is a fitting memorial of the Father of the village. In its proper character, as a training-field, it is invested with an interest not elsewhere surpassed, if equalled. Within its enclosure the elements of the military art have been imparted to a greater number of persons distinguished in their day, and who have left an imperishable glory behind them as the defenders of the country, a brave yeomanry in arms, than on any other spot. It was probably used as a training field at the first settlement of the village. From the slaughter of Bloody Brook, the storming of the Narragansett Fort, and all the early Indian wars; from the Heights of Abraham, Lake George, Lexington, Bunker Hill, Brandywine, Pea Ridge, and a hundred other battle-fields, a lustre is reflected back upon this village parade-ground. It is associated with all the military traditions of the country, down to the late Rebellion. Lothrop, Davenport, Gardners, Dodges, Raymonds, Putnams, Porters, Hutchinsons, Herricks, Flints, and others, who here taught or learned the manual and drill, are names inscribed on the rolls of history for deeds of heroism and prowess.
There was the usual diversity and variety of character among the people of the village. John Procter originally lived in Ipswich, where he, as well as his father before him, had a farm of considerable value. In 1666, or about that time, he removed to Salem, and carried on the Downing farm, which had before been leased to the Flints. After a while, Procter purchased a part of it. If a conclusion can be drawn from the prevalent type of his posterity of our day, he was a man of herculean frame. There is, I think, a tradition to this effect. At any rate, his character was of that stamp. He had great native force and energy. He was bold in his spirit and in his language,—an upright man, no doubt, as the whole tone of the memorials of him indicate, but free and imprudent in speech, impulsive in feeling, and sometimes rash in action. He was liable from this cause, as we shall see, to get into contention and give offence. There was Jeremiah Watts, a representative of a class of men existing in every community where the intellect is stimulated and idiosyncrasies allowed to develop themselves. By occupation he was a dish-turner, but by temperament an enthusiast, a zealot, and an agitator. He was not satisfied with things as they were, nor willing to give time an opportunity to improve them. He took hold of the horns of the altar with daring hands. He denounced the Church and the world,—undertook to overturn every thing, and to put all on a new foundation. He entered on a crusade against what he called "pulpit preaching," whereby particular persons, called ministers, "may deliver what they please, and none must object; and this we must pay largely for; our bread must be taken out of our mouths, to maintain the beast's mark; and be wholly deprived of our Christian privileges. This is the time of Antichrist's reign, and he must reign this time: now are the witnesses slain, and the leaders in churches are these slayers. But I see plainly that it is a vain thing to debate about these things with our fellow-brethren; for they are all for lording it, and trampling under foot." This man imagined that he "was singled out alone to give his testimony for Christ, discovering Antichrist's marks." "If any," he cried out, "will be faithful for Christ, they must witness against Antichrist, which is self-love, and lovers of pleasure more than lovers of God. The witnesses are now slain, but shortly they will rise again," &c. He tried to get up "private Christian meetings," to run an opposition to "pulpit preaching." After going about from house to house, declaiming in this style, denouncing all who would not fall in with his notions and act with him, and not succeeding in overthrowing things in general, he hit upon a new expedient. As his neighbors had wit enough to let him alone, and did not suffer themselves to be tempted to resort to the civil power to make him keep quiet, he did it himself. He instituted proceedings against the ministers and churches, on the charge, that, by taking the rule into their own hands, they were supplanting the magistrates and usurping the civil power. This was not in itself a bad move; but the Court wisely declined to engage in the proceedings. They neither prosecuted the case nor him, but let the whole go by. They adhered severely to the do-nothing policy. What a world of mischief would have been avoided, if all courts, everywhere, at all times, had shown an equal wisdom! Watts was allowed to vex the village, torment the minister, and perplex those who listened to him by the ingenuity and ability with which he urged his views. He continued his brawling declamations until he was tired; but, not being noticed by ministers or magistrates, no great harm was done, and he probably subsided into a quiet and respectable citizen.
The prominent place Giles Corey is to occupy in the scene before us renders an account of him particularly necessary. It is not easy to describe him. He was a very singular person. His manner of life and general bearing and conversation were so disregardful, in many particulars, of the conventional proprieties of his day, that it is not safe to receive implicitly the statements made by his contemporaries. By his peculiarities of some sort, he got a bad name. In the Book of Records of the First Church in Salem, where his public profession of religion is recorded, he is spoken of as a man of eighty years of age, and of a "scandalous life," but who made a confession of his sins satisfactory to that body. It cannot be denied that he was regarded in this light by some; but there is no reason to believe, that, in referring to the sinfulness of his past life, the old man meant more than was usually understood by such language on such occasions. He was often charged with criminal acts; but in every instance the charge was proved to be either wholly unfounded or greatly exaggerated. He had a good many contentions and rough passages; but they were the natural consequences, when a bold and strong man was put upon the defensive, or drawn to the offensive, by the habit of inconsiderate aspersion into which some of his neighbors had been led, and the bad repute put upon him by scandal-mongers. He was evidently an industrious, hard-working man. He was a person of some means, a holder of considerable property in lands and other forms. Deeds are often found on record from and to him. He owned meadows near Ipswich River. His homestead, during the last thirty years of his life, was a farm of more than a hundred acres of very valuable land, which has been in the possession of the family, now owning it, for a hundred years. The present proprietor, Mr. Benjamin Taylor, some twenty years ago, ploughed up the site of Corey's dwelling-house; the vestiges of the cellar being then quite visible. It was near the crossing of the Salem and Lowell, and Georgetown and Boston Railroads, about three hundred feet to the west of the crossing, and close to the track of the former road, on its south side. The spot is surrounded by beautiful fields; and their aspect shows that it must have been, in all respects, an eligible estate. What is now known as "the Curtis Field" is a part of Corey's farm.