Tag:

Brewster Mass.

The Sparrow Hawk: When Indians and Pilgrims Rescued America’s First Shipwreck Victims

In 1863, a storm uncovered the bones of a ship that might have been the Sparrow Hawk, sunk off Cape Cod in 1626. William Bradford, governor of Plymouth Colony, had described it, making it the first recorded shipwreck in American history. And since both Nauset Indians and Pilgrims helped the survivors, it was also the first recorded mutual aid rescue.

Local people recovered the wreck and reassembled it on Boston Common. Then in 1889, 109 timbers of the Sparrow Hawk found their final home at the Pilgrim Hall Museum in Plymouth, Mass.

In April 2022, three scientists announced their finding that the wood discovered on Cape Cod had belonged to an early seventeenth-century English vessel. That made it extremely probable the wreck was, indeed, the Sparrow Hawk – the one described by Bradford.

For historians, the Sparrow Hawk was more than a shipwreck. The story of the victims’ rescue showed the Nauset and the Pilgrims had repaired their sometimes rocky relationship.

Wreck of the Sparrow-Hawk

The Pilgrims had antagonized the Nauset when they first landed. They did it by stealing a cache of their buried corn in Truro. Within the previous 20 years, European explorers had also not endeared themselves to the Cape Cod natives. Samuel de Champlain’s two visits had resulted in fights and deaths. Martin Pring and his men had to leave in a hurry after staying for two months. The worst, Thomas Hunt, had captured 27 natives from Cape Cod and Plymouth, taken them to Spain and sold them into slavery.

Then in 1621, a Plymouth teenager named John Billington got lost and ended up with the Nausets on Cape Cod. The colonists found out where he was. They were anxious about getting him back from the people they’d robbed, but their visit to the Cape ended well. They retrieved the boy, paid back the Nauset for the corn they’d stolen and made peace with Aspinet, the tribe’s sachem.

Following the Billington mission, several parties of Plymouth colonists travelled to the area to trade with the local Indians.

Then in December 1626, a ship from England bound for Jamestown, Va., ran aground during a storm in the waters off of Pleasant Bay, in what is now Orleans. William Bradford described the wreck in his history. The rescue began a heritage of shipwrecks and lifesaving that has endured for nearly four hundred years.

William Bradford

Mutual Aid

The first responders to this wreck were the local Indians, who approached the passengers and crew as they made their way to shore. The wariness of the survivors was no doubt ameliorated when the approaching Indians called out to them in English. Bradford describes the scene:

But shortly after they saw some Indians come to them in their canoes, which made them stand upon their guard; but when they heard some of the Indians speak English unto them, they were not a little relieved, especially when they heard demand if they were the Governor of Plimoth’s men or friends; and that they would bring them to the English houses or carry their letters.

The survivors sent two men and a letter with the Indians to Plymouth. Governor Bradford personally led the rescue mission. He assembled a crew, had a boat readied and traversed Cape Cod Bay to Namskaket Creek (now the border of Brewster and Orleans). He then crossed two miles over the future Orleans to the site of the wreck. They carried supplies and repair materials with the help of the Indians. After a failed attempt to repair the ship, they brought the survivors back to Plymouth.

The episode shows that relations between the colonists and Indians had improved significantly, and that the peace agreement reached in Nauset in 1621 was working.

Leander Cosby, of Orleans, Mass., standing with remains of the 1626 shipwreck Sparrow Hawk, on Boston Common. Cosby, an early visitor to the wreck site, helped excavate and preserve it. Photo courtesy Pilgrim Hall Museum.

Family Lore

The country was in the middle of the Civil War in 1863 when the remains of a ship surfaced in what was called “Old Ships Harbor” in the vicinity of the 1626 wreck. The shipwreck was recovered, and analysis at the time determined that the remains came from that first wreck described by Bradford.

A local resident named Sparrow reported that Indian legend, passed on to his family, indicated that the ship’s name was the Sparrow Hawk. Since the time the remains went to Boston, people have called it the Sparrow Hawk, though no record exists of the ship’s actual name.

Sparrow Hawk Identified

Three scientists have since tried to authenticate the 1863 findings. Their findings, published in The Journal of Archaeological Science, also included more information about the passengers on the Sparrow Hawk. The researchers are Calvin Mires, a maritime archeologist and researcher with the Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution; Aiofe Daly, an associate professor at the Saxo Institute at the University of Copenhagen; and Fred Hocker, research director at the Vasa Museum in Sweden.

They scientifically dated the wood using tree-ring analysis and a technique called wiggle-match dating, which put the ship’s construction between 1556 and 1646. They also concluded the ship’s timbers came from English wood, and that English shipbuilders had made the vessel. Those findings made it very, very probable that the ship was indeed the Sparrow Hawk.

“How many other early seventeenth-century English vessels are likely to have been lost in the same place?,” they wrote.

The Sparrow Hawk at Pilgrim Hall. Photo: Ron Peterson

More About the Sparrow Hawk

In their report, the scientists added more information about the passengers aboard the Sparrow-Hawk. Two of them, John Fells and John Sibsey, were English planters who hoped to build tobacco farms in Virginia. They had brought the rest, farmers and indentured Irish servants. During the six-week voyage, the captain had gotten scurvy and they ran out of water and beer.

The Pilgrims gave them some land to keep them busy and fed for nearly a year. Then they found passage on other boats to Virginia.

Today, the Sparrow Hawk’s timbers are on display at the Pilgrim Hall Museum.

End Notes

Images: Sparrow Hawk timbers PD-US, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?curid=21038030. Pinnace By Halfblue, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=3697704. Pilgrim Hall Museum By Giorgio Galeotti – Own work, CC BY 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=50915900.

Ron Petersen co-authored this story. He is the chair of the Orleans Massachusetts Historical Commission. Ron has also served on the Orleans Community Preservation Committee, as chair of both the Orleans Historical Markers Committee and the 1918 Attack on Orleans Committee. He is a former board member and officer of the Orleans Historical Society, and is a board member and historian for the Orleans Firebirds of the Cape Cod Baseball League. Ron has written numerous published articles on regional history, and has lectured throughout Cape Cod on various historical topics.

This story was updated in 2023.

0 comment 2.6k views

Horatio Alger and the 100-Year-Old Guilty Secret

Horatio Alger wrote rags-to-riches stories about poor boys who succeed through hard work, often helped by a wealthy benefactor with a guilty secret. He had his own guilty secret.

Horatio Alger in 1852

Alger is often believed to have patterned his earnest young characters after himself.

Actually, it was the wealthy benefactors he was writing about.

Horatio Alger’ s guilty secret stayed secret for more than a century. The First Unitarian Parish of Brewster, Mass., kicked him out of his job as a minister for sexual misconduct with boys.

The Eligible Parson

Horatio Alger was born on Jan. 13, 1832, in Chelsea (now Revere), Mass. Both his parents came from old New England families, but he was hardly aristocratic and certainly not rich. His father, Horatio Alger, Sr., was a minister who wanted his son to pursue the same career.

Horatio Alger, Jr., entered Harvard at 16 and graduated eighth in a class of 88. He tried to make a living at writing, but he couldn’t support himself and reluctantly entered Harvard Divinity School. In 1864 he was installed as pastor at the Brewster church. He threw himself into his work, delivering vigorous sermons and involving himself in all aspects of parish life. He was especially passionate about organizing games and excursions for the boys’ groups.

Parishioners noticed he was ‘always with the boys.’ They also wondered why he didn’t court the parish’s eligible young woman. He was 32, single, and something of a catch.

Ragged Dick

They began to ask why, and finally investigated him through a committee made up of the church’s male lay officers. Parish records made public in the 1970s revealed Horatio Alger and the boys had engaged in acts ‘too revolting to relate.’ The report named two young boys and hinted at others.

The committee called Alger on the carpet, and he denied nothing. He admitted to ‘imprudence.’ Then he left Brewster that evening, never to return. The parish notified other Massachusetts parishes about his dismissal without disclosing the reason. But it did report to the church hierarchy his crime: ‘the abominable and revolting crime of gross familiarity with boys.’

First Parish Church of Brewster

Atonement

Alger moved to New York City and wrote Ragged Dick, his all-time best seller. Published serially in 1867, it told of an honest 14-year-old bootblack who rescues a drowning child.. The boy receives a reward for his good deed: a new suit and a job.

He won lasting fame with stories about honest poor boys outwitting evil.

At the same time, it seems, he tried to atone for his sin and repress his sexual urges. He supported the Newsboys’ Lodging House, which fed and sheltered poor newsboys.

Horatio Alger later in life

But he also informally “adopted” two street boys who lived with him in his apartment.

During his lifetime he published about a hundred volumes of fiction and poetry. His books faded in popularity toward the end of his life, but enjoyed a resurgence after his death.

Horatio Alger died on July 18, 1899 in Natick, Mass.

With thanks to The New Encyclopedia of American Scandal by George C. Kohn. This story was updated in 2023. Image of First Parish Church in Brewster By John Phelan – Own work, CC BY 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=10568077

7 comments 4.3k views

In Colonial New England, the New Year Started on March 25

In colonial New England, the new year did not start on January 1. Not because the Puritans didn’t want people to have too much fun on New Year’s Eve. It was because England refused to go along with the rest of Europe in adopting the Gregorian calendar.

The English year didn’t change until March 25, or Lady Day, when Christians celebrate the Feast of the Annunciation of the Blessed Virgin. So in 1620, John Winthrop’s father Adam wrote in his diary, “The new year beginneth,” on March 25.

European New Year

Didn’t go along with the pope.

The whole thing started with Julius Caesar. In 45 B.C., he ordered a new calendar, one with 12 months, 365 days and a start date of January 1. Every fourth year would include a leap year to compensate for the extra six hours or so it takes the earth to revolve around the sun.

By the 9^th century, some southern European countries began celebrating the first day of the new year on March 25 to coincide with the Annunciation. Balky England didn’t follow along until the 12^th century.

By the 16^th century it became obvious that the Julian calendar overcompensated with too many leap years. Equinoxes were falling 10 days too early. Catholics worried they weren’t celebrating Easter in the proper season. So in 1582, Pope Gregory XIII approved the New Style, or Gregorian calendar. Ten days were dropped from October 1582 and leap years came slightly less often. Only millennia years divisible by 400 would have leap years. January 1 would be New Year’s Day.

Pope Gregory by Lavinia Fontana

Most of Europe went along with the change. England did not. In 1582, Protestant Queen Elizabeth I did not intend to take orders from the Catholic Church. March 25 remained the legal start of the new year. But the English people began celebrating January 1 as New Year’s Day along with the rest of Europe. Almanac publishers went along with them, too.

Double Dating

That’s how double dating got started in colonial record keeping. Dates between Jan. 1 and March 25 were identified with a slash mark between the years that overlapped. Just as an example, records of the first parish in Brewster, Mass., show double dates: ’Eleazer Crosbeys Eunice baptized on Jan : 9 . 1731/2’ and ‘Jonathan Cobb admitted on March 19 . 1731/2.’

Connecticut State Library

Double dating wasn’t for everyone, as the Connecticut State Library points out. The Colony of Connecticut’s records show a court at Hartford on 27 December 1636 followed by a court at Hartford on 21 February 1636 followed in turn by a court at Hartford on 28 March 1637. You might think the February session was recorded out of sequence, but it’s correct: December 1636 was followed by January and February 1636, because 1636 continued until March 24.

England and her colonies finally caved in to the new calendar when Parliament passed the Calendar Act of 1750. As of 1752, January 1 was officially the new year and 11 days were dropped from September.

Historians generally list both Old Style and New Style dates for pre-1752 records. Look up Ethan Allen, for example, and you’ll see his dates listed as ‘January 21, 1738 [O.S. January 10, 1737] – February 12, 1789.’ But that isn’t always the case. George Washington changed his birthdate from Feb. 11, 1732 under the Julian calendar to Feb. 22, 1732 under the Gregorian calendar.

So a word to the wise historian: Be careful how you date!