A Church without a Bishop and a State without a King

Barnstable and the Sturgis Library

My destination was the Sturgis Library. The oldest library in America, built by John Lothrop, my ancestor. He came over on the Griffin in 1634, as described in 400 Years in America, Chapter 2 The Migration Begins.

When he arrived at Plymouth Colony on the Griffin, John Lothrop publicly rejoiced in finding a "church without a bishop and a state without a king.”

Lothorp built this home and meeting hall in 1644, to house his thriving congregation.

I registered at the front desk, checked my backpack and was given a guide sheet to the old section, which was roped off.

The first room you enter was added on some 200 years ago. It is not original. It now houses the genealogy section. You enter the old structure to the left. The next room is also not original, but very very old. Here is a wonderful collection of books and exhibits featuring the maritime history of the town. Whaling, trading, fishing, and boat design and construction are well documented here.

Then we enter the Lothrop Room, where Rev. Lothrop gathered his congregation.

The original pine floor planks glow beneath your feet with ages of footsteps, some your ancestors. The planks are at least 18 inches wide. My attention was drawn to a little alcove.

Incredibly, the original bible of Rev. Lothrop is preserved here, a “Bishop’s Bible,” printed by Robert Barker, London, England, in 1605. Rev. Lothrop brought it with him on the Griffin.

While sailing to America some hot candle wax dripped onto the open pages of his Bible, no doubt because of the uneasy motion of the Griffith. He carefully replaced the holes and wrote in the missing language, from memory according to legend. The book is opened to this spot.

I spent a good hour or two reading in the genealogy room, but I wanted to see the cemetery on Lothrop Hill, so I reluctantly left the Library and turned right. It’s about a kilometer away, all uphill, a good 20 minute walk.

The Old Colonial Courthouse stands just a 100 meters from the Library. It was here, on September 27, 1774, that they tossed out the King and took over. The Province of Massachusetts Bay had been self-governing since its creation. But to punish the Colony for the Boston Tea Party the year before, in 1773, the English Parliament scrapped the colony’s ancient charter.

In response, a thousand patriots gathered here, in front of what was then the Courthouse, and wrested control of Cape Cod away from the British. When ordered to disburse, the elected leader stated “We thank your honor for having done your duty, we shall continue to perform ours.”

It was actions like these across the colony that caused Gen. Thomas Gage, the Royal Governor, to send troops to Concord the following year, to secure the munitions of the Colonists. The result were the Battles of Lexington and Concord, igniting the Revolutionary War. Two years later Independence was formally declared.

The cemetery is at the top of the hill. At it’s entrance is this marker:

The graves of the early settlers are unmarked. They may have been marked originally, but perhaps not. They didn’t care for earthly rewards. Their reward was in heaven.

But their resting places are marked, in a sense, by these huge granite erratics brought here by the glacier 12,000 or more years ago.

It had started raining lightly as I strolled through the cemetery. I headed back down the hill, got in my car and headed downhill to the landing about a mile away.

It was here they came ashore from Scituate, though some, including Rev. Lothrop, and most likely Samuel Fuller, came by land, driving their cattle overland. Like cells dividing, the Plymouth Colony grew, sending off new shoots.

The one thing these settlers had was land. And it was from the development and sale of land that they prospered, moving always west, right behind the retreating natives. The marsh grass here provided ample forage for cattle, and the shores were teeming with fish, shellfish and game.

The price of land for a new comer usually included cattle and axes. A good ax was what they needed most, to clear more land.

The steel ax was of little use to the Indians. They wanted guns. And guns they got, in exchange for more land. How many land deals with the Indians were sealed with a gun? But with an ax a man could clear the land, graze some cattle, then sell it to the new comers who poured into the country from Europe, anxious to find a home without kings or bishops.

Move west, buy some more land, clear it, wash, rinse and repeat.

By the time of the Revolution my ancestors were far from here, working their way up the Connecticut River Valley frontier. But that’s another story. For now it’s enough to simply consider this place.

The rain has come, giving us time for reading and writing. Thanks for coming along!