Intelligence of the marching of the British towards Lexington, on the 19th of April, 1775, reached the lower part of Danvers about nine o'clock that morning. With a rapidity that is perfectly marvellous, when we consider the distances from each other over which the inhabitants were scattered, five companies, fully organized and equipped,—each of them containing men of the village,—rushed to the field in time to meet the retreating enemy at West Cambridge. It was a rally and a march without precedent, and never yet surpassed. The day was extremely sultry for the season; and the distance traversed by many of the men from the village, before they got into that fight, could not have been less than twenty miles. Seven belonging to Danvers companies were killed, and others wounded. A larger offering was made that day at the baptismal sacrifice to American liberty by Danvers than by any other town except Lexington; and no town represented in the scene was more remote. Of the men who fell on this occasion, the following appear to have been of the village: Samuel Cook, Benjamin Daland, and Perley Putnam,—the last a descendant of John. Their bodies were brought home, and buried with appropriate honors; two companies from Salem, and military detachments from Newburyport, Amesbury, and Salisbury participating in the ceremonies, and giving the soldier's tribute to their glory, by volleys over their closing graves.

Moses Porter, when eighteen years of age, attracted attention by his heroic courage and indomitable pluck at Bunker Hill. He was in an artillery company, and would not quit his gun when almost every other man had fallen. His country never allowed him to quit it afterwards. From that day, he bore a commission in the army of the United States. He was retained on every peace establishment, always in the artillery, and at the head of that arm of the service for a great length of time, and until the day of his death. He was in the battle of Brandywine, and wounded in a subsequent fight on the banks of the Delaware. He was with Wayne in his campaign against the Western Indians, and won his share of the glory that crowned it in the final bloody and decisive conflict. He was at the head of the artillery when the war of 1812 took place, in active service on the Niagara frontier, and on the 10th of September, 1813, brevetted "for distinguished services." He commanded at Norfolk, in Virginia, in 1814, and received great credit for the ability and vigilance with which he held that most vital point of the coast defence. At successive periods after the war, he was at the head of each of the geographical military divisions of the country. He died at Cambridge, Mass., in 1822, while in command of the Eastern Department, near the scene of his youthful glory, forty-seven years before. No man who fought at Bunker Hill remained so long a soldier of the United States. No man had so extended a record, and it was bright with honor from the beginning to the end. His pre-eminent reputation, as a disciplinarian and artillerist of the highest class, was uniformly maintained. He added to the sterner qualities required by professional duty a polished urbanity of manners, and a dignified and commanding aspect and bearing. His ashes rest beneath the sod of his ancestral acres in Salem Village.

When the great war for the suppression of the Southern Rebellion came on, and the life of the Union was at stake, the same old spirit was found unabated. A descendant of the family of Raymonds, emulating the example of his ancestors, rallied his company to the front. At the end of the war, Lieutenant-Colonel John W. Raymond brought back, in command, the remnant of his veteran regiment, with its tattered banners; two of his predecessors in that commission having fallen in battle. The youthful patriot, William Lowell Putnam, who fell at Ball's Bluff on the 21st of October, 1861, was a direct descendant of Nathaniel Putnam. It is an interesting circumstance, that the names of men who trained in the foot company and with the troopers on the fields and roads about the village meeting-house two hundred years ago have re-appeared in the persons of their descendants, in the highest lines of service and with unsurpassed distinction, in the three great wars of America,—Major-General Israel, and Brigadier-General Rufus, Putnam, in the War of the Revolution; Brigadier-General Moses Porter, in the War of 1812; and Major-General Granville M. Dodge, in the War of the Rebellion. The last-named is a descendant of a hero of the Narragansett fight, and was born and educated in Salem Village.

Several lawsuits, particularly in land cases, have been referred to. They indicate, perhaps, to some extent the ingredients that aggravated the terrible scenes we are preparing to contemplate. They served to keep up the general intelligence of the community through a period necessarily destitute of such means of information as we enjoy. Attendance upon courts of law, serving on juries, having to give testimony at trials, are indeed in themselves no unimportant part in the education of a people. Principles and questions of great moment are forced upon general attention, and become topics of discussion in places of gathering and at private firesides. Of this material of intelligence, the people of the village had their full share. It was their fate to have their minds, and more or less their passions, stirred up by special local controversies thrust upon them. As a religious society, they had difficult points of disagreement with the mother-church, and the town of Salem. While they were supporting a minister and trying to build a meeting-house for themselves, attempts were made to tax them to support the minister and build a new meeting-house in the town. There was a natural reluctance to part with them, and it was long before an arrangement could be made. The great distance of many of the farmers from the town prevented their exercising what they deemed their rightful influence in municipal affairs. They felt, that, in many respects, their interests were not identical, and in some absolutely at variance. These topics were much discussed, and with considerable feeling at times on both sides. The papers which remain relating to the subject show that the farmers understood it in all its bearings, and maintained their cause with clearness of perception and forcibleness of argument and expression. At one time, they were very desirous to be set off as a distinct town, but this could not be allowed; and, finally, a sort of compromise was effected. A partial separation—a semi-municipality—was agreed upon. Salem Village was the result.

In 1670, a petition, with twenty signers, was presented to the town to be set off as a parish, and be allowed to provide a minister for themselves. In March, 1672, the town granted the request; and, in October following, the General Court approved of the project, and gave it legal effect. The line agreed upon by the town and the village is substantially defined by the vote of the former, which was as follows: "All farmers that now are, or hereafter shall be, willing to join together for providing a minister among themselves, whose habitations are above Ipswich Highway, from the horse bridge to the wooden bridge, at the hither end of Mr. Endicott's Plain, and from thence on a west line, shall have liberty to have a minister by themselves; and when they shall provide and pay him in a maintenance, that then they shall be discharged from their part of Salem ministers' maintenance," &c. The "horse bridge" was across Bass River. The "wooden bridge" was at the head of Cow-House or Endicott River. Ipswich highway runs along from one of these points to the other. The south line, beyond the wooden bridge, is seen on the [map]. All to the north of this line, and of Ipswich highway between the bridges, to the bounds of Beverly and Wenham on the east; Topsfield, Rowley Village,—since Boxford, and Andover on the north; and Reading and Lynn on the west,—was the Village. Middleton, incorporated afterwards, absorbed a large part of its western portion; but, at the time of the witchcraft delusion, the Village was bounded as above described, and as in the [map]. There was a specific arrangement fixing the point of time when the farmers were to become exempt from all charges in aid of the mother-church; that is, as soon as they had provided for the support of a minister and the erection of a meeting-house of their own. It was further stipulated, that the villagers should not form a church until a minister was ordained; and that they should not settle a minister permanently without the approval of the old church, and its consent to proceed to an ordination. This latter restriction was perhaps the cause of all the subsequent troubles.

Owing, as has been stated in another connection, to erroneous notions about the topography of the country; the incompetency perhaps, in some cases, of surveyors; and the want of due care in the General Court and the towns to have boundaries clearly defined,—uncertainties and conflicting claims arose in various portions of the colony, but nowhere to a greater extent than here. The village became involved in controversies about boundaries with each one of its neighbors; producing, at times, much exasperation. The documents drawn forth on these questions, as they appear in the record-book of the village, are written with ability, and show that there were men among them who knew how to express and enforce their views. The plain, lucid, well-considered style of Nathaniel Ingersoll's depositions on the court-files, in numerous cases, render it not improbable that his pen was put in requisition. Sergeant Thomas Putnam, the parish recorder, as he was sometimes entitled, was a good writer. His chirography, although not handsome, is singularly uniform, full, open, and clear, so easily legible that it is a refreshment to meet with it; and his sentences are well-constructed, simple, condensed, and to the purpose. His words do their office in conveying his meaning. No public body ever had a better clerk. Somehow or other, he and others, brought up in the woods, had contrived to acquire considerable efficiency in the use of the pen. Perhaps, a few who, like him, had parents able to afford it, had been sent to Ipswich or Charlestown to enjoy the privilege of what Cotton Mather calls "the Cheverian education."

The southern boundary of the village was intended to run due west from the Ipswich road to Lynn, and was accordingly spoken of as "on a west line." As originally established, it was defined by an enumeration of a variety of objects such as trees of different kinds and sizes, as running through the lands of John Felton, Nathaniel Putnam, and Anthony Needham, to "a dry stump standing at the corner of Widow Pope's cow-pen, leaving her house and the saw-mill within the farmer's range," and so on to "the top of the hill by the highway side near Berry Pond." From the changeable conditions of some of the objects, and a diversity of methods adopted by surveyors,—many of them being unacquainted with, or making no allowance for, the variation of the compass,—controversies arose with the mother-town: and some proprietors, like the Gardners, were left in doubt how the line affected them; and there was, in consequence, much disquietude. The line was not accurately run until 1700.

It is observable, that the "saw-mill" is still in operation on the same spot. The "cow-pen," then on the south side of the mill, was, more than a century ago, removed to the north side, where it has remained ever since. This estate has interesting reminiscences. It was an original grant in January, 1640, to Edward Norris, at the time of his settlement as pastor of the First Church in Salem. He sold to Eleanor Trussler in 1654. It then went into the possession of Henry Phelps, who sold to Joseph Pope in 1664. His widow, Gertrude, owned it in 1672. In 1793, Eleazer Pope sold to Nathaniel Ropes, son of Judge Ropes, of Salem. His heirs sold it back to the Phelpses; and it is now in the possession of the Rev. Willard Spaulding, of Salem. Originally given as an ordination present to a minister of the old town, it has, after the lapse of two hundred and twenty-six years, come round into the hands of another. The house in which the Popes lived one hundred and twenty-nine years, and the families that succeeded them for above half a century more,—a venerable and picturesque specimen of the rural architecture, in its best form, of the earliest times,—has, within the last ten years, given place to a new one on the same spot. In that old house, besides unnumbered and unknown instances of the same sort, Israel Putnam conducted his courtship; and there, on the 19th of July, 1739, he was married to Hannah, daughter of Joseph Pope.

Contests for what they deemed their rights with the old church and the border towns and their own town, as in the case just mentioned, undoubtedly produced a bad effect upon the temper of the people, by occasional expenses that consumed their substance, and incidents that sowed the seeds of personal animosities; preparing the way for that dreadful convulsion which was near at hand. At the very time when the witchcraft frenzy broke out, they were in the crisis of an exasperating conflict with Topsfield, occasioned by a wrong done them by the General Court. This requires to be explained, as it can be, by a collation of facts of record.

On the 3d of March, 1636, the General Court passed an order that the bounds of Salem, Ipswich, and Newbury, should extend six miles into the country. It was afterwards defined to mean that "the six-mile extent," as it was called, should be measured from the meeting-houses of the respective towns. On the 5th of November, 1639, the General Court passed an order in these words: "Whereas the inhabitants of Salem have agreed to plant a village near the river that runs to Ipswich, it is ordered that all the land near their bounds between Salem and the said river, not belonging to any other town or person by any former grant, shall belong to the said village." On the strength of this order, the farmers in that part of Salem pushed settlements out beyond the "six-mile extent," over the ground thus pledged to them; cleared off the forests, built houses, brought the land under culture, erected bridges, made roads, and fulfilled their part of the contract by preparing to establish their village. Four years after the General Court had thus pledged to "inhabitants of Salem" the privileges of a village organization on the lands between "Salem and the said river," they authorized some inhabitants of Ipswich, who had gone there, to establish the village on the territory, independent of the Salem men. This was an unjustifiable and flagrant violation of the stipulated agreement on the part of the General Court; because it appears by their own records, that Salem farmers had promptly fulfilled the condition on their part by going directly upon the ground, and getting farms under way there before 1643. This careless and indefensible procedure by the General Court was the cause of interminable trouble and strife on the tract between Salem bounds and the river, introduced the elements of discord, and gave a color of legal justification to a conflict of authority between Salem and Ipswich men. It sowed the seeds of animosities which aggravated the scenes that occurred in Salem Village in 1692. In 1658, the General Court passed an order creating the town of Topsfield, including the larger part of these lands within its limits. No heed was paid to the remonstrances, against these proceedings, of the Salem farmers, who found themselves, without their consent, permanently bereft of the benefit that had been promised them, cut off from all connection with the town of Salem, to which they originally belonged, and put in the outskirts of another town. It was a clear case of wrong, and ought to have been rectified. But public bodies are more reluctant even than individuals to acknowledge themselves in fault. The people of Salem Village joined in earnest protests against the acts of the General Court. The old town of Salem declared by a public vote, that they had always regarded the lands in controversy as belonging to the village which, under the plighted faith of the General Court, their inhabitants had been forming. But it was all in vain. Neither remedy nor reparation could be obtained. The struggle against this injustice lasted until some time after the witchcraft occurrences had terminated, and was finally brought to a close by an order of the Court, that the people on the territory might maintain parish relations with Salem Village or with Topsfield, at their individual option. Entire satisfaction was never realized until, in 1728, they were incorporated, in accordance with their petition, into a township, under the name of Middleton, with parts of Topsfield, Boxford, and Andover added. During a period of half a century, this grievance remained unadjusted. The proceedings on the part of the village in its public action, as shown in the records, were conducted with skill, ability, and firmness. But the collisions that occurred between particular parties were violent and bitter. Salem settlers were called to pay parish and town rates to Topsfield, but refused to do it. Constables and tax-collectors were defied. Topsfield went so far as to claim not only unoccupied lands, but lands within fence, with houses on them, and families within them, and orchards and growing fields around them, as part of its "commons;" and it disputed the titles given by Salem. Of course, the question went, in various forms, into the county courts; but sometimes, there is reason to believe, it came to a rougher arbitrament, in the depths of the woods, between man and man.