Part 5

ADDRESS

OF THE

HON. GEORGE F. HOAR.

ADDRESS OF SENATOR HOAR.

The first American Ambassador to Great Britain, at the end of his official service, comes to Massachusetts on an interesting errand. He comes to deliver to the lineal successor of Governor Bradford, in the presence of the representatives and rulers of the body politic formed by the compact on board the "Mayflower," Nov. 11, 1620, the only authentic history of the founding of their Commonwealth; the only authentic history of what we have a right to consider the most important political transaction that has ever taken place on the face of the earth.

Mr. Bayard has sought to represent to the mother country, not so much the diplomacy as the good-will of the American people. If in this anybody be tempted to judge him severely, let us remember what his great predecessor, John Adams, the first minister at the same court, representing more than any other man, embodying more than any other man, the spirit of Massachusetts, said to George III., on the first day of June, 1785, after the close of our long and bitter struggle for independence: "I shall esteem myself the happiest of men if I can be instrumental in restoring an entire esteem, confidence and affection, or, in better words, the old good-nature and the old good-humor between people who, though separated by an ocean and under different governments, have the same language, a similar religion and kindred blood."

And let us remember, too, the answer of the old monarch, who, with all his faults, must have had something of a noble and royal nature stirring in his bosom, when he replied: "Let the circumstances of language, religion and blood have their natural and full effect."

It has long been well known that Governor Bradford wrote and left behind him a history of the settlement of Plymouth. It was quoted by early chroniclers. There are extracts from it in the records at Plymouth. Thomas Prince used it when he compiled his annals. Hubbard depended on it when he wrote his "History of New England." Cotton Mather had read it, or a copy of a portion of it, when he wrote his "Magnalia." Governor Hutchinson had it when he published the second volume of his history in 1767. From that time it disappeared from the knowledge of everybody on this side of the water. All our historians speak of it as lost, and can only guess what had been its fate. Some persons suspected that it was destroyed when Governor Hutchinson's house was sacked in 1765, others that it was carried off by some officer or soldier when Boston was evacuated by the British army in 1776.

In 1844 Samuel Wilberforce, Bishop of Oxford, afterward Bishop of Winchester, one of the brightest of men, published one of the dullest and stupidest of books. It is entitled "The History of the Protestant Episcopal Church in America." It contained extracts from manuscripts which he said he had discovered in the library of the Bishop of London at Fulham. The book attracted no attention here until, about twelve years later, in 1855, John Wingate Thornton, whom many of us remember as an accomplished antiquary and a delightful gentleman, happened to pick up a copy of it while he was lounging in Burnham's book store. He read the bishop's quotations, and carried the book to his office, where he left it for his friend, Mr. Barry, who was then writing his "History of Massachusetts," with passages marked, and with a note which is not preserved, but which, according to his memory, suggested that the passages must have come from Bradford's long-lost history. That is the claim for Mr. Thornton. On the other hand, it is claimed by Mr. Barry that there was nothing of that kind expressed in Mr. Thornton's note, but in reading the book when he got it an hour or so later, the thought struck him for the first time that the clew had been found to the precious book which had been lost so long. He at once repaired to Charles Deane, then and ever since, down to his death, as President Eliot felicitously styled him, "the master of historical investigators in this country." Mr. Deane saw the importance of the discovery. He communicated at once with Joseph Hunter, an eminent English scholar. Hunter was high authority on all matters connected with the settlement of New England. He visited the palace at Fulham, and established beyond question the identity of the manuscript with Governor Bradford's history, an original letter of Governor Bradford having been sent over for comparison of handwriting.

How the manuscript got to Fulham nobody knows. Whether it was carried over by Governor Hutchinson in 1774; whether it was taken as spoil from the tower of the Old South Church in 1775; whether, with other manuscripts, it was sent to Fulham at the time of the attempts of the Episcopal churches in America, just before the revolution, to establish an episcopate here,--nobody knows. It would seem that Hutchinson would have sent it to the colonial office; that an officer would naturally have sent it to the war office; and a private would have sent it to the war office, unless he had carried it off as mere private booty and plunder,--in which case it would have been unlikely that it would have reached a public place of custody. But we find it in the possession of the church and of the church official having, until independence was declared, special jurisdiction over Episcopal interests in Massachusetts and Plymouth. This may seem to point to a transfer for some ecclesiastical purpose.

The bishop's chancellor conjectures that it was sent to Fulham because of the record annexed to it of the early births, marriages and deaths, such records being in England always in ecclesiastical custody. But this is merely conjecture.

I know of no incident like this in history, unless it be the discovery in a chest in the castle of Edinburgh, where they had been lost for one hundred and eleven years, of the ancient regalia of Scotland,--the crown of Bruce, the sceptre and sword of state. The lovers of Walter Scott, who was one of the commissioners who made the search, remember his intense emotion, as described by his daughter, when the lid was removed. Her feelings were worked up to such a pitch that she nearly fainted, and drew back from the circle.

As she was retiring she was startled by his voice exclaiming, in a tone of the deepest emotion, "something between anger and despair," as she expressed it: "By God, no!" One of the commissioners, not quite entering into the solemnity with which Scott regarded this business, had, it seems, made a sort of motion as if he meant to put the crown on the head of one of the young ladies near him, but the voice and the aspect of the poet were more than sufficient to make this worthy gentleman understand his error; and, respecting the enthusiasm with which he had not been taught to sympathize, he laid down the ancient diadem with an air of painful embarrassment. Scott whispered, "Pray forgive me," and turning round at the moment observed his daughter deadly pale and leaning by the door. He immediately drew her out of the room, and when she had somewhat recovered in the fresh air, walked with her across Mound to Castle Street. "He never spoke all the way home," she says, "but every now and then I felt his arm tremble, and from that time I fancied he began to treat me more like a woman than a child. I thought he liked me better, too, than he had ever done before."

There have been several attempts to procure the return of the manuscript to this country. Mr. Winthrop, in 1860, through the venerable John Sinclair, archdeacon, urged the Bishop of London to give it up, and proposed that the Prince of Wales, then just coming to this country, should take it across the Atlantic and present it to the people of Massachusetts. The Attorney-General, Sir Fitzroy Kelley, approved the plan, and said it would be an exceptional act of grace, a most interesting action, and that he heartily wished the success of the application. But the bishop refused. Again, in 1869, John Lothrop Motley, then minister to England, who had a great and deserved influence there, repeated the proposition, at the suggestion of that most accomplished scholar, Justin Winsor. But his appeal had the same fate. The bishop gave no encouragement, and said, as had been said nine years before, that the property could not be alienated without an act of Parliament. Mr. Winsor planned to repeat the attempt on his visit to England in 1877. When he was at Fulham the bishop was absent, and he was obliged to come home without seeing him in person.

In 1881, at the time of the death of President Garfield, Benjamin Scott, chamberlain of London, proposed again in the newspapers that the restitution should be made. But nothing came of it.

Dec. 21, 1895, I delivered an address at Plymouth, on the occasion of the two hundred and seventy-fifth anniversary of the landing of the Pilgrims upon the rock. In preparing for that duty, I read again, with renewed enthusiasm and delight, the noble and touching story, as told by Governor Bradford. I felt that this precious history of the Pilgrims ought to be in no other custody than that of their children. But the case seemed hopeless. I found myself compelled by a serious physical infirmity to take a vacation, and to get a rest from public cares and duties, which was impossible while I stayed at home. When I went abroad I determined to visit the locality, on the borders of Lincolnshire and Yorkshire, from which Bradford and Brewster and Robinson, the three leaders of the Pilgrims, came, and where their first church was formed, and the places in Amsterdam and Leyden where the emigrants spent thirteen years. But I longed especially to see the manuscript of Bradford at Fulham, which then seemed to me, as it now seems to me, the most precious manuscript on earth, unless we could recover one of the four gospels as it came in the beginning from the pen of the Evangelist.

The desire to get it back grew and grew during the voyage across the Atlantic. I did not know how such a proposition would be received in England. A few days after I landed I made a call upon John Morley. I asked him whether he thought the thing could be done. He inquired carefully into the story, took down from his shelf the excellent though brief life of Bradford in Leslie Stephen's "Biographical Dictionary," and told me he thought the book ought to come back to us, and that he should be glad to do anything in his power to help. It was my fortune, a week or two after, to sit next to Mr. Bayard at a dinner given to Mr. Collins by the American consuls in Great Britain. I took occasion to tell him the story, and he gave me the assurance, which he has since so abundantly and successfully fulfilled, of his powerful aid. I was compelled, by the health of one of the party with whom I was travelling, to go to the continent almost immediately, and was disappointed in the hope of an early return to England. So the matter was delayed until about a week before I sailed for home, when I went to Fulham, in the hope at least of seeing the manuscript. I had supposed that it was a quasi-public library, open to general visitors. But I found the bishop was absent. I asked for the librarian, but there was no such officer, and I was told very politely that the library was not open to the public, and was treated in all respects as that of a private gentleman. So I gave up any hope of doing anything in person. But I happened, the Friday before I sailed for home, to dine with an English friend who had been exceedingly kind to me. As he took leave of me, about eleven o'clock in the evening, he asked me if there was anything more he could do for me. I said, "No, unless you happen to know the Lord Bishop of London. I should like to get a sight at the manuscript of Bradford's history before I go home." He said, "I do not know the bishop myself, but Mr. Grenfell, at whose house you spent a few days in the early summer, married the bishop's niece, and will gladly give you an introduction to his uncle. He is in Scotland. But I will write to him before I go to bed."

Sunday morning brought me a cordial letter from Mr. Grenfell, introducing me to the bishop. I wrote a note to his lordship, saying I should be glad to have an opportunity to see Bradford's history; that I was to sail for the United States the next Wednesday, but would be pleased to call at Fulham Tuesday, if that were agreeable to him.

I got a note in reply, in which he said if I would call on Tuesday he would be happy to show me "The Log of the Mayflower," which is the title the English, without the slightest reason in the world, give the manuscript. I kept the appointment, and found the bishop with the book in his hand. He received me with great courtesy, showed me the palace, and said that that spot had been occupied by a bishop's palace for more than a thousand years.

After looking at the volume and reading the records on the flyleaf, I said: "My lord, I am going to say something which you may think rather audacious. I think this book ought to go back to Massachusetts. Nobody knows how it got over here. Some people think it was carried off by Governor Hutchinson, the Tory governor; other people think it was carried off by British soldiers when Boston was evacuated; but in either case the property would not have changed. Or, if you treat it as a booty, in which last case, I suppose, by the law of nations ordinary property does change, no civilized nation in modern times applies that principle to the property of libraries and institutions of learning."

"Well," said the bishop, "I did not know you cared anything about it."

"Why," said I, "if there were in existence in England a history of King Alfred's reign for thirty years, written by his own hand, it would not be more precious in the eyes of Englishmen than this manuscript is to us."

"Well," said he, "I think myself it ought to go back, and if it had depended on me it would have gone back before this. But the Americans who have been here--many of them have been commercial people--did not seem to care much about it except as a curiosity. I suppose I ought not to give it up on my own authority. It belongs to me in my official capacity, and not as private or personal property. I think I ought to consult the Archbishop of Canterbury. And, indeed," he added, "I think I ought to speak to the Queen about it. We should not do such a thing behind Her Majesty's back."

I said: "Very well. When I go home I will have a proper application made from some of our literary societies, and ask you to give it consideration."

I saw Mr. Bayard again, and told him the story. He was at the train when I left London for the steamer at Southampton. He entered with great interest into the matter, and told me again he would gladly do anything in his power to forward it.

When I got home I communicated with Secretary Olney about it, who took a kindly interest in the matter, and wrote to Mr. Bayard that the administration desired he should do everything in his power to promote the application. The matter was then brought to the attention of the council of the American Antiquarian Society, the Massachusetts Historical Society, the Pilgrim Society of Plymouth and the New England Society of New York. These bodies appointed committees to unite in the application. Governor Wolcott was also consulted, who gave his hearty approbation to the movement, and a letter was dispatched through Mr. Bayard.

Meantime Bishop Temple, with whom I had my conversation, had himself become Archbishop of Canterbury, and in that capacity Primate of all England. His successor, Rev. Dr. Creighton, had been the delegate of John Harvard's College to the great celebration at Harvard University on the two hundred and fiftieth anniversary of its foundation, in 1886. He had received the degree of doctor of laws from the university, had been a guest of President Eliot, and had received President Eliot as his guest in England.

He is an accomplished historical scholar, and very friendly in sentiment to the people of the United States. So, by great fortune, the two eminent ecclesiastical personages who were to have a powerful influence in the matter were likely to be exceedingly well disposed. Dr. Benjamin A. Gould, the famous mathematician, was appointed one of the committee of the American Antiquarian Society. He died suddenly, just after a letter to the Bishop of London was prepared and about to be sent to him for signing. He took a very zealous interest in the matter. The letter formally asked for the return of the manuscript, and was signed by the following-named gentlemen: George F. Hoar, Stephen Salisbury, Edward Everett Hale, Samuel A. Green, for the American Antiquarian Society; Charles Francis Adams, William Lawrence, Charles W. Eliot, for the Massachusetts Historical Society; Arthur Lord, William M. Evarts, William T. Davis, for the Pilgrim Society of Plymouth; Charles C. Beaman, Joseph H. Choate, J. Pierpont Morgan, for the New England Society of New York; Roger Wolcott, Governor of Massachusetts.