At the death of Lord Baltimore, after a supremacy of forty-three years, Maryland contained ten counties, five on either side of the Chesapeake, and about 16,000 inhabitants, the greater number of whom were Protestants. There was no established church in Maryland, either Catholic or Episcopal. The latter, however, had a strong hankering after this state of privilege, and one of the clergy appealed to the Archbishop of Canterbury regarding their forlorn condition; “the priests,” said he, “are provided for; the Quakers take care of their own speakers; but no care is taken to build up churches in the protestant religion.”
Yet though the Quakers maintained their own preachers, and as a religious sect, spite of all their “abominable heresies,” were tolerated in Maryland, yet they were not safe even here from suffering, but that for civil, rather than religious causes. Until the year 1688, the era of great revolutions, the Quakers were liable to fines and imprisonment, from their refusal to perform military duties and to take an oath. Otherwise the Quaker was warmly welcomed. The scattered dwellers in the wilderness, and on the hanks of the Maryland rivers, opened their souls to “the truth” as promulgated by George Fox and his friends; their simple hearts were as good soil into which the seed of the spirit fell and brought forth abundantly. Many a “heavenly meeting” had George Fox in this friendly colony. “His landing in the country,” he says, “was so ordered by the good providence of God, that he arrived just in time to be present at a farewell meeting which was held by John Burneyate, before his setting sail for old England. And a very large meeting this was, and held four days, to which came many of the world’s people, five or six justices of the peace, a speaker of the assembly, a member of the council, and divers others of note.” And not alone did “the world’s people” listen with joy to this “minister of the truth, but the emperor or sagamore of the Indians, and his subordinate chieftains, after a great debate with his council, came to hear him, and listened in the evening to that which he had to say to them from the Lord, and which he enjoined them to convey to their people,” and “they, carrying themselves courteously and lovingly inquired, where the next meeting would be, for that they would attend it.” As in Carolina and Virginia, we have many a graphic picture of the life of the settlers in the wilderness; of the stranger travelling through woods and bogs, sleeping out at night, or being hospitably entertained at some lonely dwelling, where “huge dogs” gave the first notice of their approach; or after having travelled all day through the woods, and seen “neither man nor woman, house nor dwelling-place, of their being lovingly entertained by some Indian king, who spread mats for them to lie on by the fire of their wigwam, and made the strangers welcome to their small store of provisions.” Again we see George Fox and his friends on their way to some great meeting, rowing in boats, “there being so many boats on the river at that time that it was almost like the Thames, there never having been seen before so many together at one time;” a thousand coming to the meeting at once, so that “never before was there seen such a concourse of people together,—people of the world, protestants of divers sorts, and some papists; and among them magistrates and their wives, and other people of chief account in the country, and of common people a great many.” These large meetings, which would last for four or five days, must have resembled the revivals and camp-meetings of later days.
It was on an occasion of this kind, when travelling to a meeting with his friend, “that an accident befell, which, for the time, was a great exercise” to them. “One John Jay, a friend, of Barbadoes, was intending to accompany us,” says George Fox, “through the woods to Maryland; and he being to try a horse, got upon his back, and he fell a running, and cast him down upon his head, and broke his neck, as the people said. They that came near him took him up for dead, and carried him a good way and laid him on a tree. I got to him as soon as I could, and feeling of him, concluded him to be dead. And as I stood by him, pitying him and his family, I took hold of his hair, and his head turned anyway, his neck was so limber. Whereupon, throwing away my stick and my gloves, I put one hand under his chin and the other behind his head, and raised his head two or three times with all my strength, and brought it in. I soon perceived that the neck was right; he began to rattle in the throat, and soon after to breathe. The people were amazed, but I bid them have a good heart and be of good faith and carry him into the house. They did so, and set him by the fire; but I bid them get him some warm thing to drink and put him to bed. After he had been in the house awhile, he began to speak, but did not know where he had been. The next day we passed away, and he with us, about sixteen miles, to a meeting, through woods and bogs, and over a river, where we swam our horses, and got over ourselves upon a hollow tree; and many hundreds of miles did he travel with us after this.”
But we must now leave George Fox and his friends, and return to the affairs of Maryland.
On the death of Lord Baltimore, in 1676, his son and successor to his title, who had now successfully administered the government of the colony for fourteen years, returned to England, leaving Thomas Notley as his deputy. During his administration the whole code of laws had been revised, and the act of toleration, which from the first had made Maryland so honourable, was confirmed. But spite of this careful provision for the exercise of the broad spirit of religion, scarcely had Lord Baltimore arrived in England when he was called to account by the Bishop of London, in whose diocese the colonies were supposed to lie, for the neglect of religion in his province. The bishop was seconded by the king and his ministers, who were determined that the English episcopal church should be dominant in Maryland as it was in Virginia. This party at home strengthened the party of the ultra-Protestants in the colony, who had long been dissatisfied with their non-privileged position. Besides this, the recent insurrectionary movements in Virginia were not without their influence on the neighbour state; and Fendall, the former governor, “a man well-experienced in commotions,” headed the disaffected Episcopalians, and the authority of Lord Baltimore, a “papist proprietary,” was called in question. Lord Baltimore hastened back, and order was soon re-established. Fendall was tried, found guilty of sedition, and banished. But Baltimore now was not at liberty to govern his province in his own way. Having been accused, though apparently without cause, of favour towards Papists, the English ministry soon interfered, and an order was issued, that “all offices of government should be intrusted exclusively to Protestants.” Catholics were excluded from office in the very colony which they had planted.
Lord Baltimore’s hold on Maryland was being loosened now on all hands. The colonists, among whom the doctrine of civil equality was deep-rooted, called in question the authority of an hereditary proprietary; and the partisans of the English church, whose monarchical principles might otherwise have found no stumbling-block in that circumstance, became his violent opponents as a Papist. Another cause too existed, which affected Lord Baltimore unfortunately in his relationship with England. In attempting “to modify the unhappy effects of the Navigation Laws on colonial industry, he had become involved in opposition to the commercial policy of England. A formidable adversary was thus raised; the Governor of Virginia was made superintendent of the custom-house officers of Maryland. This led to great dissatisfaction; quarrels and bloodshed ensued;” and the blame of all, one way or another, was laid on Lord Baltimore.
The accession of a catholic monarch in England might be considered as a favourable auspice for a catholic proprietary. But no! William Penn, the Quaker, found favour with James, when Lord Baltimore found none. The Catholic was even obliged to relinquish to the Dissenter half the peninsula between the Chesapeake and Delaware, besides “a wide strip along the northern limit of his province.” Nor was that all. The charter of Maryland was threatened. A writ of quo warranto was issued against it, and Lord Baltimore hastened to England to maintain his rights. But before the legal process by which they were invaded was ended King James himself was dethroned.
CHAPTER XX.
SETTLEMENT OF NEW JERSEY.—THE QUAKERS.
Two months before the surrender of New Netherlands to the English, the Duke of York made over the land embraced by his patent, lying between the Hudson and the Delaware, to Lord Berkeley and Sir George Carteret, both proprietaries of Carolina. In compliment to Sir George Carteret, who, as governor of the Isle of Jersey, had been the last commander to lower the royal flag in the civil wars, this territory was called New Jersey.
The proprietaries immediately published terms of colonisation, or, as they called them, “concessions,” offering fifty acres of land to each settler, and the same quantity for each servant or slave, at a quit-rent of one-halfpenny per acre, and the same to all indented servants at the expiration of their term of servitude. No quit-rent, however, was to be demanded until 1670.