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From: dolphin213 <>
Subject: Richard Nixon's 7th Great Grandmother
Date: Fri, 23 Jul 2004 00:11:26 -0700
References: <d9.fbbdc0b.2e3045a0@aol.com><006801c47068$614f6780$cedcab43@eeyore>
In-Reply-To: <006801c47068$614f6780$cedcab43@eeyore>


In 1658, Provided (Richard Nixon's 7th Great Grandmother) and her brother
Daniel Southwick were arrested for being Quakers and imprisoned in Salem,
Massachusetts. She was only 18 years old. Her parents had already been
jailed,
impoverished through repeated fines and run out of town for being Quakers
and not following Puritans ways. She was sentenced to be sold into slavery
to the English in Barbados or Virginia because she had no money to pay her
fines.
Fortunately they weren't sold into slavery. Much later John Greenleaf
Whitter wrote a poem about Provided, but he changed her first name to her
mothers name, Cassandra, because he felt that Provided was not poetic
enough.
- - - source - - - The history of Salem,
Massachusetts by Sidney Perley (1924)

Cassandra Southwick

Last night I saw the sunset melt through my
prison bars,
Last night across my damp earth floor fell the
pale gleam of stars:
In the coldness and the darkness all through the
long night - time,
My grated casement whited with autumn's early
rime....

All night I sat unsleeping, for I knew that on
the marrow
The ruler and the cruel priest would mock me in
my sorrow.
Dragged to their place of market, and bargained
for and sold,
Like a lamb before the shambles, like a heifer
from the fold!

Oh, the weakness of the flesh was there, - - the
shrinking and the shame;
And the low voice of the Tempter like whispers to
me came:
" Why sit'st thou thus forlornly, " the wicked
murmur said,
" Damp walls thy bower of beauty, cold earth thy
maiden bed? "

" ... And what a fate awaits thee! - - A sadly
toiling slave,
Dragging the slowly lengthening chain of bondage
to the grave. "
... I wrestled down the evil thoughts, and strove
in silent prayer,
To feel, O Helper of the weak! That thou indeed
were there ...

At length the heavy bolts fell back, my door was
open cast,
And slowly at the sheriff's side, up the long
street I passed.
I heard the murmur round me, and felt, but dared
not see,
How, from every door and window, the people gazed
on me.

.. We paused at length, where at my feet the
sunlit waters broke
On glaring reach of shining beach, and shining
wall or rock;
The merchant ships lay idly there, in hard clear
lines on high,
Tracing with rope and sender spar their network
on the sky ....

Then to the stout sea - captains, the sheriff
turning, said,
" which of ye, worthy seaman will make me will
take this Quaker maid?
In the isle of fair Barbados, or Virginia's shore,
You may sell her at a higher price than Indian
girl or Moor. "

Grim and silent stood the captains; and when
again he cried,
" Speak out, my worthy seaman ! " - - no voice,
no sign replied;
But I felt a hard hand press my own, and kind
words met my ear, - -
" God bless thee, and preserve thee, my gentle
girl and dear ! "

A weight seemed lifted from my heart, a pitying
friend was nigh, - -
I felt it in his hand, rough hand, and saw I in
his eye;
And when again the sheriff spoke, that voice so
kind to me,
Growled back its stormy answer like the roaring
of the sea, - -

" Pile my ship with bars of silver, pack with
coins of Spanish gold,
From keel - piece up to deck plank, the roomage
of her hold,
By the living God who made me ! - - I would
sooner in your bay
Sink ship and crew and cargo, than bear this
child away ! "

" Well answered, worthy captain, shame on their
cruel laws! "
Ran through the crowd in murmurs loud the
people's just applause.
" Like the herdsman of Tekoa, in Israel of old,
Shall we see the poor and righteous again for
silver sold ? "

I looked on Governor Endicott, with weapon half
way drawn,
Swept round the thong his lion glare of bitter
hate and scrorn;
Fiercely he drew his bridle rein, and turned in
silence back,
And sneering priest and baffled clerk rode
murmuring in his track.

Hard after them the sheriff looked, in bitterness
soul;
Thrice smote his staff upon the ground, and
crushed his parchment roll.
" Good friends, " he said, " since both have
fled, the ruler and the priest,
Judge ye, if from their further work I be not
well released. "

Loud was the cheer which, full and clear, swept
round the silent bay,
As with kind words and kinder looks he bade me go
my way;
For God who turns the courses of the streamlet
of the glen,
And the river of great waters, had turned the
hearts of men.

Thanksgiving to the Lord of Life! To God all
praises be,
Who from the hands of evil men hath set his
handmaid free.
All praise to God before whose power the mighty
are afraid,
Who takes the crafty in the snare which for the
poor is laid !

- - - - - - - - - John Greenleaf Whittier

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