Promised Land: Thirteen Books That Changed America

Book by Parini Jay

ONE
Of Plymouth Plantation
I.
Every nation has a founding myth, or myths: stories that talk of bright but challenging beginnings, portraying the drama of self-definition and establishment. The United States, with its complex origins and mixed identities, has many such myths, but among them is a primary text in the story of American colonial life: William Bradford's Of Plymouth Plantation, a journal written between 1620 and 1647. It tells the story of the original Pilgrims, who came to Plymouth in Massachusetts from northern England, via the Netherlands, on the Mayflower in 1620. The historical importance of this journal cannot be exaggerated. Apart from being a vivid account of what happened, it has immense credibility, having been written by a man who was an active agent (as governor) in the story itself.
The adventures and misadventures of the Pilgrims form the core of Bradford's journal, which recounts a thoroughly absorbing story about a people who managed against the odds to pull together for the sake of their community, to get control over their own rebels and malcontents, and to make peace among themselves and with the native population, the Wampanoag, with whom (after a difficult year of illness and privation, which reduced their numbers almost by half) they shared what has become known as the first Thanksgiving: a celebration of mutual interests. Although the exact nature of this event, a harvest festival that occurred in the fall of 1621, has relatively little in common with the mythic tale most Americans hear about in elementary school, it has become a legend, one of those primal stories that have shaped our sense of who we are.
II.
America was sorely in need of some mythic tale about itself when, in 1855, the manuscript of Bradford's journal was discovered in the library of Fulham Palace, on the Thames, a summer retreat for London bishops. A traveler called John Wingate Thornton from Boston found it by chance. He was a man described by one acquaintance as "an accomplished antiquary and a delightful gentleman." He recognized passages by Bradford quoted in another book, which contained a note about the full manuscript and its whereabouts. His discovery must be considered one of the great literary finds.

Although missing for such a long time, the journal was not unknown. Passages from Bradford had been widely circulated for two centuries, with extracts in the records at Plymouth. Early historians, such as Thomas Prince and William Hubbard, apparently had the manuscript in hand when they wrote their classic accounts of the Plymouth Colony. But the complete work--a handwritten journal--had disappeared, having been carried to England at some point, where it lay in dusty obscurity until Thornton unearthed it. He laboriously copied the work in full, then published it in the United States in 1856, attracting huge attention in the disunited states of that era, when the Civil War loomed offstage, but only just. Anyone could see that serious conflict lay ahead, though a savage and relentless war could hardly be imagined. It would take the outright slaughter of Antietam and Gettysburg for that reality to dawn in full.

In the 1850s, there was also a good deal of anxiety in the air about westward expansion. Lewis and Clark made their journey to the Pacific coast and back to St. Louis at the beginning of the century, and excitement over the West grew as Americans learned more about the abundant regions that lay on the other side of the Mississippi. The region beckoned to young men and women, who dreamed of wealth and adventure. Parents, as ever, worried about losing touch with their children--this was well before electronic communications shrank the distances that now commonly separate families. The snugness of colonial New England or Virginia was gone forever, and it seemed difficult to imagine a nation that could embrace large tracts of land as well as a restive population of Native American tribes, including the Apache, Blackfoot, Cherokee, and Cheyenne nations. Certainly it was hard to believe that numerous Mexicans could be absorbed in Texas and California, which had only just acquired statehood.

Bradford's account of the early Pilgrim adventures offered an alternative reality, a world in which fiercely united and determined men and women put their faith firmly in the will of God. They reveled in their independence from the Church of England and its hierarchies, which had forced them into exile in Holland. Unlike other Puritans who settled in New England (mostly in Massachusetts), these were the hard core, known as Separatists. They did not believe in trying to reform the Anglican church from within, as did most Puritans. They might well have remained in Leyden, where most of them were concentrated, had poverty as well as the prospect of Holland being overrun by Spanish Catholics not prompted them to set off for the New World.

We would have known relatively little about the Pilgrims of Plymouth had William Bradford (1590-1657) never kept a journal. He was present at every phase of the project, from the initial separation from England and removal to Leyden through the great journey on the Mayflower across the Atlantic, the establishment of the Plymouth settlement, its trials and triumphs, and its eventual decline as children of the original settlers lost faith in the overall project--much to Bradford's dismay.

As he was only human, Bradford skewed his account in favor of his own interests and friends. Of course he had the incomparable advantage, as historian, of being a player in the events described, with enviable access to everything that happened. He ran the inner council at Plymouth, so he knew what people said, even why they said it. As chronicler, he tended to dwell on things that interested him or showed him in a particularly good light--it's his journal, after all; he could (as he chose) suppress whatever displeased him. Historians have noted that he passes over many things in silence or, on rare occasions, alters the sequence of events. Bradford did not like opposition and dealt fiercely with those who displeased or countered him. Nevertheless, his account is noticeably balanced and scrupulous. In general, his account of the Plymouth Colony is without rival as a precious early document on this important subject.
III.
From the outset, Bradford assumes a reserved, ironic tone, quite in contrast to one notable outburst scribbled in the margins of the document after it was finished, where he registers a wail of disapproval for the younger generation:
O sacred bond, whilst inviolably preserved! How sweet and precious were the fruits that flowed from the same! But when this fidelity decayed, then their ruin approached. O that these ancient members had not died or been dissipated (if it had been the will of God) or else that this holy care and constant faithfulness had still lived, and remained with those that survived, and were in times afterwards added unto them. But (alas) that subtle serpent hath slyly wound in himself under fair pretences of necessity and the like, to untwist these sacred bonds and ties, and as it were insensibly by degrees to dissolve, or in a great measure to weaken the same. I have been happy, in my first times, to see, and with much comfort to enjoy, the blessed fruits of this sweet communion, but it is now a part of my misery in old age, to find and feel the decay and want thereof (in a great measure) and with grief and sorrow of heart to lament and bewail the same. And for others' warning and admonition, and my own humiliation, do I here note the same. (xvi)
As this note amply suggests, Bradford felt a visceral disappointment with the younger colonists, who seemed willfully ignorant of their history and failed to realize the sacrifice of their parents and grandparents, who risked their lives for a cause of conscience, a dream of community. But this marginal outburst stands in contrast to the journal itself, where the author writes with coolheaded grace, relying on what happened to inform his prose, a tale that required no embellishment.
Indeed, in the first paragraph he says he plans to write "in a plain style, with singular regard unto the simple truth in all things" or "at least as near as my slender judgment can attain the same" (1). He succeeds well at this, beginning in the reflective mode, with a chapter on Separatism. The basic idea, as he frames it, was to convince English churches to "revert to their ancient purity and recover their primitive order, liberty and beauty" (2). The Separatists formed a minority sect among the Puritans, itself a fringe of the Protestant Reformation, which had convulsed Europe in the sixteenth century. The church at Scrooby, in the English county of Nottinghamshire, was among the most radical of Puritan churches.

It was there that William Brewster, a friend and mentor to William Bradford, spread his Separatist views as minister to a younger generation. Brewster had gone to Cambridge University, where he came under the influence of Robert Browne, a founding theologian of the Puritan movement. Browne published two seminal books in 1582: A Treatise of Reformation Without Tarying for Anie and A Booke Which Sheweth the Life and Manners of All True Christians. In these stringent, influential works, Browne argued that one could not afford to wait for the state to take action--as John Calvin, a leading Puritan figure on the Continent, had suggested. Browne believed it was the duty of the individual to act according to what he or she felt was right, whatever the state thought. He was fond of quoting Saint Paul on this point: "Come out from among them, and be ye separate, said the Lord, and touch not the unclean thing" (2 Corinthians 6:17). This single verse provided the biblical foundation for Separatism.

There was, as one might guess, fierce resistance to the Puritan movement in England, and many of its leading lights were imprisoned or executed, driving the hard core of believers abroad for safety. By 1607, th...