NOTES ON A DORCHESTER MINUTE BOOK. 79 



who for no slight reason, surely, earned in his day the title " the 

 Apostle of the West," and down to our day is the object among 

 some New England families of a cult almost like that of a Greek hero 

 town-founder. But backbiters spare none. On September 15th, 

 1630, Anne Samwayes is accused. She " did speak unseemly 

 words of Mr. White viz., that he did starve the country, and did 

 coyne with the divell for mony, and would be a merchant and 

 fearmer for his pfitt, and did send pvision to New England in a 

 color to convey to Spayne, and many other unseemly words for a 

 quarter of an-howre space." Oddly enough in this book we find 

 he did farm, and small blame. At least we read of two " closes " 

 (pasture fields), and of a hay-rick of his. And on August 26th, 

 1635, Nathaniel Bower, deposing about a collision Avith the watch, 

 speaks of " working with Mr. John White, clerke, helping in corne" 

 until midnight. On February 8th, 1630-1, Phillip Nycholls is 

 accused, partly by a Jesuit, a " Seminary," of very fierce criticism of 

 Master White's doctrine. Those curious indictments might be 

 added to, and other branches of the subject might be taken up, 

 especially scattered touches about emigration. But already this is 

 what the Scots call " an ower lang screed." It is so easy to run on 

 while conning these minutes and looking at the mind-pictures that 

 come and go at every other page almost. There's the good widow 

 before Master Mayor for absence from church, but excused in that 

 she was " bringing going " her late husband's apprentice boy to 

 Monkton ditch, on his way to Weymouth to take ship for New 

 England. There is the hot headed fellow longing for his crossbow 

 (how the word carries one back) to teach the constables due 

 distance. There are the fiddles and dancing, of all places, in the 

 grim precincts of the gaol. There's the thatched house just by in 

 High-street, and others up and down the place. Yes, but take it 

 all in all, a vastly more interesting, vastly more picturesque a place 

 it is that fancy shows us than sight shows us now. Trinity 

 Church, indeed, poor All Saints', poor; as rebuilt after the 1622 

 fire. But what houses, what gables, what outside galleries what 

 quaint variety in this old borough, whereof a hundred and fifty 



