The bear was a formidable prowler around the settlements, killing young cattle, making havoc in the sheepfold, and depredating upon the barn and farm yard. He was a dangerous antagonist, of immense strength in his arms and claws. Sometimes he was reached effectually by the gun, but the trap was mainly relied upon to secure him. His skin made him a valuable prize, and he supplied other beneficial uses. The earliest and rudest method of trapping a bear was as follows: A place was selected in the woods, where two large fallen and mouldering trees were side by side within two or three feet of each other. The space between them would be roofed over by throwing branches and boughs across them, and closed up at one end. The other end would be left open. A gun was placed inside, heavily loaded, the muzzle towards the open end; to the trigger a cord was fastened running along by the barrel of the gun, passing over a cross-bar, and hanging down directly before the muzzle, baited with a piece of fresh meat. The bear, ranging in the woods at night, would be attracted by the smell of meat, and come snuffing around. At the open end, he would see the bait, rush in, seize it between his jaws, pull the cord, discharge the gun, and his head and breast be torn to pieces. The men engaged in the enterprise would remain awake in some neighboring house, waiting and listening, with the extremest interest, for the report of the gun to announce their success. At the break of day, they would gather to the spot, and participate in the profit of the capture. After a while, iron or steel traps were introduced. They would be skilfully baited and set, and fastened to a tree by a chain. The whole was covered over with light soil and leaves. The bear would make for the bait. The weight of his paw would spring the trap. The iron-teeth would hold him fast till the morning. In his suffering and exasperation, it would require considerable effort to despatch him. In catching bears, as well as foxes, much skill and art were needed. They were each very wary and cautious; and, where iron was used in the traps, some scent was necessary to disguise the smell of the metal. All appearance of having been disturbed had to be removed from the ground. Trapping became quite a science, and was a pursuit of much importance.
Wolves were perhaps the most destructive of the beasts of prey. Although not so large or strong as bears, they were far more fierce and rapacious. Bears could be tamed, but wolves not. Bears were not dangerous, unless provoked, or suffering from hunger, or alarmed for the safety of their young. It was thought that kind treatment would awaken strong attachment in them, but wolves were always snarling and ferocious. They roamed mostly in packs, and would kill sheep, lambs, and poultry long after hunger was appeased. The farmers regarded them as their great enemy. A long and deep trench would be dug, lined with slippery logs, from which the bark had been taken, standing upright, and touching each other. The trench was covered by a slight framework, upon which leaves and dirt were scattered, to make the surface appear like the surrounding territory. Some savory bait would be placed over it. The wolves, rushing on, would break through. Not being able to ascend the sides, they would be found alive, the next morning, at the bottom. These were called "wolf-pits." It was no easy matter to dispose of or despatch the furious animals, and the wolf-pits were often the scenes of much excitement. There was another class of animals,—divided into different species, mostly according to their size,—smaller but fiercer than wolves, of extraordinary strength and activity, called wild-cats, catamounts, or loup-cerviers, pronounced by the farmers lucifees. These were only taken by the gun. It was considered a useful public service, and no inconsiderable feat, to kill them.
Some of the laborious employments, at that time, were especially promotive of social influence; for instance, the making and mending highways. This was secured by a tax, annually levied in town-meeting. The work was placed under the care and direction of surveyors, annually chosen. A small part of this tax, however, was paid in money. Most of it was "worked out." At convenient seasons, when there was a respite from the ordinary farm work, the men of a neighborhood would come together, in greater or less numbers, at a designated time and place, with their oxen and implements. Working in unison, they would work merrily and with energy; and, as the tough roots and deeply bedded rocks gave way to the pickaxe, crowbar, and chain, and rough places became smooth, the wilderness would echo back their voices of gratulation, and a spirit of animating rivalry stimulate their toils. Many other operations were carried on, such as getting up hay from the salt-marshes and building stone-walls, by neighbors working in companies.
Particular circumstances in the history of the population of Salem Village contributed to keep up a condition of general intelligence, which served, to some degree, as a substitute for an organized system of education. Indeed, any thing like regular schools was rendered impossible by the then-existing circumstances. Clearings had made a very inconsiderable encroachment on the wilderness. There were here and there farmhouses, with deep forests between. It was long before easily traversable roads could be made. A schoolhouse placed permanently on any particular spot would be within the reach of but very few. Farmers most competent to the work, who had enjoyed the advantages of some degree of education, and could manage to set apart any time for the purpose, were, in some instances, prevailed upon to receive such children as were within reaching distance as pupils in their own houses, to be instructed by them at stated times and for a limited period. Daniel Andrew rendered this service occasionally. At one period, we find them practising the plan of a movable school and schoolmaster. He would be stationed in the houses of particular persons, with whom the arrangement could be made, a month at a time, in the different quarters of the village, from Will's Hill to Bass River. Of course, there was a great lack of elementary education. For a considerable time, it was reduced to a very low point; and there were heads of families,—men who had good farms, and possessed the confidence and respect of their neighbors,—who appear not to have been able to write.
It is difficult, however, to come to a definite estimate on this subject, as the singular fact is discovered, that some persons, who could write, occasionally preferred to "make their mark." Ann Putnam, in executing her will, made her mark; but her confession, with her own proper written signature, is spread out in the Church-book. Francis Nurse very frequently used his peculiar mark, representing, perhaps, some implement of his original mechanical trade; but, on other occasions, he wrote out his name in a good, round hand. The same was the case with Bray Wilkins. We can hardly reach any decisive conclusions as to the intelligence or education of the people of that day from their handwriting, or construction of sentences, much less from their spelling. Their forms of speech were very different from ours in many respects. What, at first view, we might be apt to call errors of ignorance, were perhaps conformity to good usage at the time. Their use of verbs is different from ours, particularly in the subjunctive mood, and in conjugation generally. They did not follow our rule in reference to number. When the nominative was a plural noun, or several nouns, they often employ the connected verb in the singular number, and vice versâ. They were inclined to make construction conform to the sense, rather than to the letter. It is not certain that their usage, in this particular, is wholly indefensible. Cicero, in his fifth oration against Verres, couples rem with futurum. This was looked upon by some editors as an error, and they altered the text accordingly; but Aulus Gelius, in his "Attic Nights," maintains that it is the true reading, and, in view of the sense of the passage, a legitimate and elegant use of language. He cites instances, in Latin and Greek authors of the highest standard, of a similar usage.
Nothing, or scarcely any thing, can be inferred from spelling. It was wholly unsettled among the best-educated men, and in the practice of the same person. In Winthrop's "Journal," he spells the name of his distinguished friend—the governor of both Massachusetts and Connecticut—sometimes Haynes, and sometimes Haines. The r is generally dropped from his own signature, or, if not intentionally dropped, is quite lost in one or the other of the contiguous letters. It is a curious circumstance, that the name "Winthrop" is spelled differently by our governor, his wife, and his son, the governor of Connecticut; each varying from either of the other two. George Burroughs, a graduate of Harvard College, wrote his own name sometimes with, and sometimes without, the s. In our General-court records, the name of the first Captain Davenport is spelled in at least four different ways. The Putnams sometimes wrote their name Putman. The name of the Nurses was often written Nourse, and sometimes Nurs.
Unable to come to any reliable conclusions in reference to the general intelligence of the people of Salem Village from their orthography, etymology, syntax, or chirography, compared with their contemporaries, I can only say, that, in examining the records and papers which have come down to us, the wonder to me is that they expressed themselves so well. I do not hesitate to say, that, in the various controversies in which they were involved, prior to and immediately after the witchcraft delusion, there is a pervading appearance of uncommon appreciation of the questions at issue, and substantial evidence that there was a solid substratum of good sense among them.
Their manners appear to have been remarkably courteous and respectful, showing the effect still remaining upon their style of intercourse and personal bearing, of the society and example of the great number of eminent, enlightened, and accomplished men and families that had resided or mingled with them during all the early period of their history. In their deportment to each other, there was that sort of decorum which indicates good breeding. They paid honor to gray hairs, and assigned to age the first rank in seating the congregation,—a matter to which, before the introduction of pews as a particular property, they gave the greatest consideration. The "seating" was to continue for a year; and a committee of persons who would command the greatest confidence was regularly appointed to report on the delicate and difficult subject. Their report, signed by them severally, was entered in full in the parish record-book. The invariable rule was, first, age; then, office; last, rates. The chief seats were given to old men and women of respectable characters, without regard to their circumstances in life or position in society. Then came the families of the minister and deacons, the parish committee and clerk, the constable of the village, magistrates, and military officers. These were preferred, because all offices were then honorable, and held, if they were called to them, by the principal people. Last came rates,—that is, property. The richest man in the parish, if not holding office, or old enough to be counted among the aged, would take his place with the residue of the congregation. The manner in which parents were spoken of on all occasions is quite observable, not only in written documents, but ordinary conversation,—always with tender respectfulness. In almost all cases, the expressions used are "my honored father" or "my honored mother," and this by persons in the humblest and most inferior positions in life. The terms "Goodman" and "Goodwife" were applied to the heads of families. The latter word was abbreviated to "Goody," but not at all, as our dictionaries have it, as a "low term of civility." It was applied to the most honored matrons, such as the wife of Deacon Ingersoll. It was a term of respect; conveying, perhaps, an affectionate sentiment, but not in the slightest degree disrespectful, derogatory, or belittling. Surely no better terms were ever used to characterize a worthy person. "Goodman" comprehends all that can be ascribed to a citizen of mature years in the way of commendation; and the whole catalogue of pretentious titles ever given by flatterers or courtiers to a married lady cannot, all combined, convey a higher encomium than the term "Goodwife." How much more expressive, courteous to the persons to whom they are applied, and consistent with the self-respect of the person using them, than "Mr." and "Mrs."! A more than questionable taste and a foolish pride have led us to adopt these terms because they were originally applicable to the gentry or to magistrates, and to abandon the good old words which had a meaning truly polite to others, and not degrading to ourselves!
A patriarchal authority and dignity was recognized in families. The oldest member was often called, by way of distinction, "Landlord," merely on account of his seniority, without reference particularly to the extent of his domain or the value of his acres. After the death of Thomas Putnam, in 1686, his brother Nathaniel had the title; after him, the surviving brother, Captain John; after him, it fell to the next generation, and Benjamin, a son of Nathaniel, became "Landlord Putnam." It was so with other families.
The liberal and judicious policy, before described, of giving estates to children on their marriage, with the maintenance of parental authority in the household, produced the desired effect upon the character of the people. It was almost a matter of course, that, on reaching mature years, young men and women would own the covenant, and become members of the church. The general tone of society was undoubtedly favorable to the moral and religious welfare of the younger portion of the community. Some exceptions occurred, but few in number. One case, however, in which there was a flagrant violation of filial duty, may not be omitted in this connection; for it belongs to the public history of the country.