Traveling to History: Eleven
A MASSACHUSETTS ROAD TRIP PROVIDES SURPRISING INSIGHTS INTO PURITAN LIFE
By James F. Lee
The front view of the Spencer-Peirce-Little House in Newbury, Mass. The English-style manor was built in 1690. Photo by Daderot License: CC BY-SA-3.0. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/deed.en).
Winding my way southward along Route 1A in Essex County, Massachusetts, a two-lane roadway rolling past white churches and tidy village greens, roadside vegetable stands and colonial mansions, I looked to my left towards the ocean. On the horizon was the great natural barrier, Plum Island, a finger of sand dunes sheltering the tidal marshes that provide habitat for clams and sea grasses, two commodities attracting English settlers almost 400 years ago. The flat vista of swaying grasses and glittering pools in the morning sunshine probably hadn’t changed all that much since those early visitors arrived. Here and there a slight rise might show the roofline of an old, old house peeking through the tree cover, blending almost organically into the background.
Our views of those faraway days are clouded by misconception. We see the people as dour, their houses dark, brooding and forbidding, an ignorant folk susceptible to superstition, as those condemned to the gallows in Salem could attest. Nothing could be farther from the truth, as I was to find out for myself on a journey through Puritan Essex County, Massachusetts, visiting three houses all open to the public. No place in the United States is better suited for a 17th-century sojourn than this area north of Boston.
Rear view of the Spencer-Peirce-Little House in Newbury, Mass. (Photo by Daderot License: CC BY-SA-3.0. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/deed.en).
Spencer-Peirce-Little Farm (1690)
I started my journey in Newburyport, at one time a major shipbuilding center, but now a gorgeous remnant of that seafaring past, with narrow lanes, huge Federalist mansions, and a harbor busy with pleasure craft. Just south of Newburyport, in the town of Newbury, my perceptions of a Puritan world of gloomy, wooden houses were shattered by the Spencer-Peirce Little Farm. Built around 1690, this huge brick and stone manor is one of the few dwellings constructed in New England as a manor house in the English sense. The house sits on the original 400 acres granted to John Spencer in 1635.
The oldest portion of this cruciform structure is two-and-a-half stories with a steeply pitched roof dominated by a two-story front porch also made of brick. The house originally was covered with mortar made by mixing lime, sand, animal hair, and perhaps seagrass stalks. Stucco still covers part of the east side of the house facing the sea, and much of the original limewash still exists. On the glorious morning I visited, the sun’s rays reflected off the white walls.
A 17th-century crib and chest of drawers at the Spencer-Peirce-Little House in Newbury, Mass. (Photo by Sara Willman with permission).
Like a modern day showcase home, this house is making a statement. The original builder, Col. Daniel Peirce, Jr., a wealthy merchant and respected leader, wanted a house worthy of his importance, not at all unusual for supposedly otherworldly Puritans.
“Puritans were not shy about displaying status,” said Bethany Dorau, Regional Site Administrator at Historic New England, owners of Spencer-Peirce Little Farm. “They made sure though that status symbols reflected the actual status.” Daniel Peirce, Jr. as captain of militia, justice of the peace, and member of the Council of Massachusetts was certainly worthy of such a house. As an example of his stature, he got the honor of choosing the first pew in the new meeting house constructed in 1699.
Inside, the Spencer-Peirce-Little House furnishings reflect the entire lifespan of the property between 1690 and 1986. Some 17th-century items include a cradle from a contemporary New England family and a chest of drawers.
The Whipple House in Ipswich, Mass, originally begun in 1677. The visible line in the chimney dates from when the addition flue was added. (Photo by John Phelan. License: CC BY-SA 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/deed.en).
Whipple House (1677)
I continued my journey southward. As I rounded a corner on 1A in Ipswich, about eight miles south of Newbury, the Whipple House came into view. Using the plentiful timber of 17th-century Massachusetts, white oak for massive posts and beams, pine for rafters and joists, cedar and oak for the exterior clapboards, colonial builders erected substantial structures like the Whipple House to withstand the wintry blasts of a New England winter and the sultry summer heat.
John Whipple the Elder was a prominent man in the community and built the original half house here in 1677. The house contained a hall, or common room, for eating, cooking, and working, with a chamber on the floor above it. Today, the framing, wide plank floors, large fireplaces, and summer beams visible in the low ceilings, are original to the house.
When Whipple’s son (also John) inherited the property in 1683, big changes were in store. By 1690, he more than doubled the size of the house, installed crease-molded wood paneling painted vermilion, plastered the ceilings, and added triple casement windows in the gable end of the older portion of the house. A lean-to in the rear added in 1725 provided for storage and housing for enslaved servants. Puritan Massachusetts Bay colony made African slavery legal in 1641.
The Whipple House view from the rear. (Courtesy of Ipswich Museum, Mass.).
Still visible is the line in the central chimney where an extra flue was added during this expansion. Like Daniel Peirce, Jr., Whipple had wealth and he showed it. The furnishings on the first floor are period 17th-century artifacts, many made by local artisans.
I learned that color played a role in Puritan life in ways that many may find surprising, as the vermilion-colored paneling attests.
“Our ancestors were in love with color in a way you don’t expect from antiques that have survived to this day,” said Katherine Chaison, Curator of the Ipswich Museum, of which the Whipple House is a part.
The Whipple House interior. (Courtesy of Ipswich Museum, Mass.).
The problem is that colored paint often doesn’t stand the test of time. That was borne out with a recent surprising discovery at Whipple House: original paint was discovered on a plaster wall in the kitchen.
It was black polka dots!
“Vermilion wood paneling and black polka dot walls. It doesn’t get much more exciting than that!” Chaison said.
The Witch House, Salem, Mass. This was the home of Judge Jonathan Corwin, one of the magistrates at the Salem Witch Trials. (Photo by Jen. License: CC BY-SA 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/deed.en)
Corwin (Witch) House (c. 1642)
Continuing south on 1A, I drove to Salem, a city with an incredible historic housing stock, which includes at least ten 17th-century structures still standing. I stopped at the Corwin House, also known as the Witch House. This was the home of Judge Jonathan Corwin from 1675 to 1718, a Salem native, wealthy merchant, and one of the judges at the Witch trials. This is the only structure in Salem today to have a direct connection with that infamous period.
The house is impressive: a steeply-pitched roof, dark clapboards, double gables on the front facade, an overhanging second story with carved pendants and diamond pane casement windows. A large central chimney is visible above the roofline. Inside are exposed wooden beams in the ceiling and walls and pine floorboards. An exposed section of the wall in the downstairs parlor shows the original framing. Note, though, that period furnishings throughout the house, such as tables, beds, chairs, bear no direct connection to Judge Corwin; instead, they illustrate what life was like in 17th-century Massachusetts.
In the hall (dining room), a page from a 1672 physick book shows a recipe for snail water, believed to cure rheumatism. The large fireplace here has a beehive oven in the back for baking bread. I learn that infection from burns was a leading cause of death for women at that time. Upstairs is a spinning wheel, a yarn weasel, and a weaving loom.
John and Elizabeth Corwin had 10 children of whom only two lived to adulthood. Of her four children from her previous marriage, two lived to be adults. In Puritan times death was everywhere; smallpox, yellow fever, and tuberculosis took their ghastly toll. Entering heaven was no guarantee, unless you lived an exemplary life; the devil was abroad luring sinners into temptation. One fascinating item on display is a witch bottle in the hallway. Filled with urine, fingernails, hair, pins, and nails, these bottles were placed upside down under hearths to ward off evil spirits.
You can learn more about Corwin by visiting the Peabody Essex Museum (PEM) website, specifically the online exhibit “The Salem Witchcraft Trials, 1692.” pem.org | Salem Witch Trials 1692 Exhibition & Virtual Tour | PEM. This exhibit originally ran from September 26, 2020 to April 4, 2021. Surprisingly, Corwin’s mother-in-law was among the accused, although she was never arrested. In 1692, no one was safe from accusation. The exhibit features a trunk Corwin once owned and an inventory of his estate upon his death in 1718. Also on view is the warrant for Bridget Bishop’s execution signed and carried out by Corwin’s nephew Sheriff George Corwin. Bishop was the first victim hanged.
Judge Corwin was one of nine judges presiding over the legal machinery of the state, putting people to death based on spectral evidence. The legalese of the charging documents and of the arrest and death warrants is unable to mask the horror of a witch hunt, while the victim testimony speaks eloquently of the dignity of those whose lives and property were at risk.
Map of Essex County, Massachusetts. (mass-doc.com)
For example, on the wall is an excerpt from the petition of Mary Esty pleading for the lives of those yet to be accused, knowing full well that her fate was already sealed: “… if it be possible no more Innocent blood may be shed.” She was one of the last victims hanged; a normal woman showing extraordinary courage and mercy.
The exhibit points out that Judge Corwin said little during the trials in 1692, but unlike others, such as fellow judge Samuel Sewell, he never apologized for his role in the event.
My journey to three houses allowed a glimpse into real people’s lives in Puritan times. I wouldn’t have thought that stucco manor houses, polka dot walls, grieving parents, and pleas for mercy in a cruel world would be part of that story. Never had the past seemed more alive to me.
