Joseph Dow

• General Notes
  • Joseph, the first Dow born in America, was 22 when Margaret Cole married Richard Kimball. He had been self-supporting for some years, his property interests already considerable and growing. He continued an important factor in Hampton life until in 1638 he voluntarily withdrew, a Quaker, from public life and, with associates, moved to the southerly part of Hampton, then almost without a population. The new home extended into what is now fixed as Salisbury, Massachusetts, and into what is now Hampton Falls. Most of the new Quaker colony lay within the present boundaries of Seabrook, New Hampshire. The Dow family sprung from Seabrook is the largest of any. Nearly one-fifth of all Dow in America are of Quaker Stock.
    While Joseph was at all times less influential in public affairs than his older brother, he was a man of much force of character, of natural leadership, whose influence upon the destinies of the Province can be distinctly traced. His persecution in 1683 had more to do than any other single cause with the removal of the notorious Governor Cranfield and the inauguration of a somewhat more liberal government, although he was but one of a dozen who appealed successfully to the English King. He was sergeant of the militia and saw much fighting against the Indians. He held this position on May 31, 1671, when, with all the officers of Norfolk County, he petitioned the General Court for the retention of their former major (Mass Archives, vol 67, pp 56-7, provincial series).
    A farmer, as were all, he turned to many lines. There is preserved in the New Hampshire Historical Society a steel trap, belonging to him, the first ever imported into America. Muskrat and mink fur was abundant in Hampton, New Hampshire. Ability to survey land was not a common accomplishment before 1800, and Joseph bought in England the best compass and other equipment that the time knew. This was inherited by his son Samuel. His town offices were few. He appears on the grand jury in 1676. On February 12, 1669 he was appointed to survey the Exeter-Hampton line, a source of trouble. In 1671 he was appointed to make an additional survey of that line. In 1680 he was appointed to lay out the marshes. This also was highly important, as the salt hay was the largest single source of individual income then. He was appointed on December 16, 1680 to rebuild the municipal sawmill. In vol 17, Revolutionary Rolls, page 632 is a quote : "At a councill held 20th October 1693, Ordered that the Bounds of this Province from three miles Northward of Merrimack River be run off on the 14th of November next according to the order of Council made last March & that notice be given to the Govern'r & that Mr Joseph Dow & Capt Joseph Smith be Com'rs for the same and that they be payd by the Treasurer out of the Public Revenue & that they make a returne thereof to this board." This was an important step in the history of the Province, although it was litigated for the next half century. The New Hampshire boundary was a line three miles north of the river, but its bed was tortuous and sometimes shifting. For many years Massachusetts had claimed much more than its possible maximum and had levied taxes. The survey of 1693 added a long tier of farms to Hampton and extended about 20 miles. West of this, subsequent surveys until 1741 were made by many authorities. Curiously, the surveyor who laid off the straight line west to New York State did not allow properly for the variation of his compass, so that at the west extremity a wedge seven miles thick was put into Massachusetts, belonging properly to Vermont. This includes the whole township of Williamstown. The final survey of 1741 made the greatest change. From Haverhill, Massachusetts was taken land constituting two new townships, Salem and Plaistow. This is important to anyone who traces the Haverhill Dow. In many cases a man born in Haverhill, died in Plaistow, although he never left his house. Eight Dow families were so shifted from one Province to the other.
    On August 25, 1701, not quite two years before his death, Joseph Dow was chosen as one of the trustees fo rthe land ordered set off for a meeting house for "those Christian people called Quakers." The events leading up to this are by far the most important in the history of over 10,000 Dows.
    The first Quakers to reach America were two female preachers coming to Boston in July of 1656. A woman preacher was more than the orthodox puritan could endure, they holding in law and fact that woman should be seen and not heard. Apart from sex, the propaganda threatened to interfere with the iron rule of the local ministers, whose control had been unquestioned, more absolute than the papacy had ever been. Other Quaker preachers followed so rapidly that in less than ten years the Government yielded to clamor and took extreme measures, combatting the heresy with as much vehemence as they had witchcraft. Laws were enacted rendering Quakers liable to have their ears cut off, their tongues bored with hot irons, and many other inflictions according to prevailing ideas of Christian charity. The people were with the government. The good old lady who, when they told her a Quaker was being hanged, remarked, "and serve him right", and went on reading her Bible, was typical.
    The act which brought the new idea into Hampton occurred in 1662. The constables of each town from Dover to Dedham were ordered to "take these vagabond Quakers (Alice Ambrose, Anna Colman, Mary Tompkins, young women) and make them fast to the cart's tail, and drawing the cart through your several towns, to whip them upon their naked backs not exceeding ten stripes on each of them in each town, and so convey them out of this jurisdiction."
    This order was carried out in Dover, Hampton and Salisbury, to the everlasting shame of its citizens. In Salisbury, one Walter Barefoote, later a constable, as precious a scoundrel as ever remained unhanged, performed his almost praisworthy act; took the women from the constable under pretense of delivering them to the next and secretly got them out of the Province. This proceeding entailed some risk. A jailer one day allowed a Quaker prisoner to go home, on his promise to return the next day. Embolded by the man's keeping his word, he gave a similar parole to a non-Quaker, imprisoned for debt. This man fled the Province. The jailer lost his position, was mulcted of all his property until he and his family were absolutely destitute. He went insane under the strain and was for 25 years a wanderer dependent on public charity.
    Half of the men of Hampton had come from England to escape from persecution on account of their religious beliefs by those who adhered to the Established Church, many fleeing to Holland to save their own lives and limbs. Yet, in less than a full generation, these very men (all the ruling class of them) had become persecutors of those who differed in faith, much more relentless, much more barbarous than their own persecutors had been. It must be imagined that there were a few in Hampton who looked upon this infamous whipping with horror, who in an uncharitable age held some vague notion of the milk of human kindness. Nothing makes religious  converts like persecution. No one dared open his mouth in remonstrance, much less express sympathy with a new, strange faith which carried humility and forgiveness to an incomprehensible extent. But, many thought it over. It was 30 years before it was legally safe to become a Quaker, and even after that it was suicidal for any ambitious man. It precluded service in the army or militia, it was a bar to all political life, depending on popular election or not. It was social ostracism. Town and church were a unit, the minister the central figure. He above all fought the man or woman who did not yield blind subservience to him. Against the Quaker, also, was discrimination in everyday business; the non-Quaker would not trade if he could find another market. Yet, the very night of that whipping there were waverers; in a dozen years a dozen citizens had more or less secretly embraced the faith. The leading spirits were Joseph Dow, sturdy and ever unafraid, and Abraham Perkins, son of Abraham, styled the Father of Hampton. Tradition says that Joseph joined in 1675, when he was 34. His wife was equally an enthusiast. In 1683 came trouble. Joseph and other jurymen, all Quakers, were passing the Governor's house (the notorious Cranfield), were invited in and friendely received, but on asking the question whether they might not when sworn (as before they had done) hold up their hands instead of kissing the Book, the Governor fell into a rage and asked them how they came there, to whom Dow replied "at your honor's invitation." Mr Cranfield complained of this matter to the next court as a riot. Dow was forced to give a 100 pound bond for his appearance next session. When Dow appeared nothing was alleged against him, he was discharged and his arms restored; but at another session, after Dow was called again on the same bond, and the penalty was enforced against him, he was forced to flee out of the province with his wife and nine children, leaving his house and goods, with the corn in the ground, to the Governor.
    This paragraph is in the words embodied in the complaint against the Governor. It is only one in a hundred. Capt Henry Dow framed it and many others, taking up cudgels for his brother with diplomatic caution. It may be remembered that two pages torn out of his secret diary are just of the dates to cover these matters. The two Dows and Mr. Weare held many conferences, and Mr Weare undertook the journey to London, where he was at least half successful. Cranfield was at once transferred to a West Indian post, but the colony ran much risk of having as his successor the notorious Walter Barefoote.
    Some amends for loss of crop were made to Joseph Dow, who returned in the fall of 1683, but this was not by Cranfield. The Friends met and quickly evolved a plan to sell out in Hampton village and move southward. Another small circle had come into existence in Amesbury, and a move in their direction might be advantageous. The new site had been carefully surveyed by Joseph Dow. As farm land it was as good as that in Hampton, barring the salt hay crop. It could be bought for a small fraction the cost of similar acreage near Hampton village. About this time Joseph was at the height of his material prosperity, so he bought as freely as his means afforded. He took 20 acres in Salisbury once owned by Francis Dow and about nine pieces in all, from 20 to 50 acres each. At a point just over the Seabrook border the first meeting house was put up, following plans made, no doubt, years previously. Here the community began as wholly Quaker. It made once and for all an impassable gulf between Hampton and Seabrook. Capt Henry Dow, astute political leader, tactful diplomat, could not be expected to show sympathy with the outcast faith; his son Deacon Samuel Dow was orthodox of the orthodox. Between Henry and Joseph Dow, however, there was a lifelong brotherly love. No appeal from one to the other was ever disregarded. Thereafter, however, the two great genealogical lines never met. Quaker sought Quaker in marriage and dismissed such as married outside the Society. On the other hand, church people were seldom inclined to risk the social consequences of marrying into a Quaker family.
    The record books of Hampton meeting begin on August 15, 1701, at Hampton. The meetings then alternated with Amesbury. For the house the town set off a piece from common land, Deacon Samuel Dow surveying the plot. Thomas Chase was the first keeper of the minutes. He, Abraham Green and Joseph Dow were the committee to oversee the building. The cost was defrayed by subscriptions on August 23, 1701 by Benjamin Brown, Joseph Chase, Thomas Chase, Joseph Dow, Josiah Dow, Abraham Green, Edmund Johnson, James Stanyan, John Stanyan, Moses Swett, Christian Williams. For several years trouble was had with the town authorities over the minister's tax. The Books record seizures by force of property to pay the salary "of the priest of the hireling ministry,"--John Collins 1703, Henry Dow 1703 and 1705, Joseph Dow Jr. 1703, Jacob Morel (Morrill) 1701, James Purington 1705, Richard Smith 1701, Ezeakel Wathen (Worthen) of Amesbury 1702 and 1703. These seizures were serious matters, the property taken generally much in excess of the tax. Once the seizure was sold for more than double the tax. The balace was proffered to the victim, who refused to touch it. It lay on his mantel and next year was seized for the new tax. The first marriage in the Society was that of John Peasley of Haverhill and Mary Martin of Amesbury, on May 1, 1705. It took place in Thomas Barnard's house after, at the previous monthly meeting, Thomas Nickolls and Joshua Purington had been appointed a committee to inquire if they were free to marry. The register was signed by 47 guests as witnesses, including Mary, Hannah, Charety, Josias, Jeremiah, Joseph, Henery, and John Dow. In 1705 the Society meeting sent 3 delegates to the Rhode Island Yearly Meeting, Joseph Chase, Josua Purington and Moses Swett. In 1705 a second meeting house was resolved upon, to be in Salisbury, and Henry Dow and Thomas Chalis were appointed to look for the land.
    Record books up to 1758 are extant; all now preserved in the Brown School at Providence; about 1739 Philip Rowell kept them. Births, marriages and deaths at Berwick, Maine, are often entered but there is a dearth of such records from home. Occasional dismissals for cause were made. In 1706 Samuel Cass was declared not to be in the true faith. Action signed by 14 men, including Henry and Jeremiah Dow. In 1707 John Colins was similarly disciplined, although he was restored and even sent as a delegate to the Salem 1715 Quarterly Meeting. This action was signed by 18, including Henry, Jeremiah, Charety, Mary and Thomas Dow. This was the first time women voted in such matters.
    By the time the second generation of Quakers had grown old, the membership in Seabrook had become very small. Lack of religion of any kind was one cause. Another was that the more ambitious men of Seabrook moved away. In the decay of about 1840 nearly all abandoned the meetings. Of the line of Josephs oldest son, those who remained in Seabrook had no taste for religious meetings, the others had moved away. The line of his second son was consistent, but all moved away to become the Quaker Dow of Maine, a large number of them, but after 1840 they all drifted out, generally into the churches. The line of his sixth son was steadfast, but moved away in 1737. All the line of his seventh son abandoned the faith, any faith. The line of the eighth son was the most steadfast of all, but all except one junior line became pioneers of the new Quaker colony in Weare. The children of the eleventh son were all baptized into the church at the demand of their mother. Another reason was that the young people found the meeting house dull and preferred the slender social opportunities of the church circles. Those who moved away often found themselves in communities far from meeting house and soon drifted into churches. The colony from Weare who went to Lincoln, Vermont all drifted out for this reason.
    The denominational preferences of the whole Dow family embrace the whole field. Only two cases are found of reversion to the older Roman Catholic. The Protestant Episcopalians are many and it is the rule that once in that denomination, the later generations continue. It drew considerably from the Quakers. The Methodists were at first very exceptional; embraced by some single individual, the rest of the family strongly dissenting. The plurality are Congregationalists, because in rural New England that is often the only church in a whole township. The Presbyterians are mainly those who came in contact with the only village churches in Connecticut. Various controversies made big changes. About 1800 there was a world-wide controversy over free will verses predestination. The free will Baptists gained enormously through it. During the 19th century the Unitarians and Universalists gained many earnest, thoughtful Dows. Until well into the 19th century almost no one, even the irreligious, failed to attend weekly church, for the Sunday meeting was the one social opportunity of the week, and even the chance to transact important business between sermons. Farmers were too hardworking, too separated to swap cattle except on the day of rest.
    A community isolated as was Seabrook is sure to degenerate. The Quakers came there first for the sake of that isolation. Later, inhabitants came for the same result but from a wholly different cause. Those who were intolerable in town found freedom in the neck of Seabrook, on three sides being the ocean. For a few years the high Quaker standards prevailed, ethical, moral, business and private. No courts were needed, no hasty marriages to legitimatize an unborn child, no debts incurred. But that could not endure. The isolated community is unavoidably poor. As the next generation of Quakers felt all the more the sting of poverty, they lost the keen edge of supporting faith. The Seabrook farm, originally supporting, say, four, now had to keep eight. Either one must go outside for employment or do with almost nothing. In either case the handiest remedy is drink. Soon the inner side of Seabrook degenerated into about the toughest place in America. On the Hampton Falls border, the place kept fair, people with averagely high principles, average standards of education, with pride in themselves and their ancestry.
    Within it was all too different. The land was poor mixed with sand. By fishing and by driftwood one satisfied hunger and need for warmth. Miserable huts became the rule. Here compulsory education could never come, religious observance nil, marriage mostly by the justice of the peace. Hard cider cost only the labor of pressing it from half wild apples; rum was cheap. But, no matter how primitively one lives, a little money is needed each year for the tax collector. The "red necked" Seabrook men soon found how to get it. They became, and still were in the 1920s, the moset expert slipper makers in the world. They worked wholly by the piece, going weekly to Newburyport to deliver finished goods and receive raw material, buy a little food and much liquor. Amid squalid surroundings these people produced slippers, the kinds used only by millionaires and demi-mondaines, jeweled, of gold cloth, seed pearls, often costing several hundred dollars a pair. Between slippers, the people fished or played. Clearly, this was no place for an ambitious man. As soon as the French and Indian War was ended and the interior made safe, all the best moved from Seabrook to pioneer towns.
    Around 1860, William Rand, who was still living in 1920, studied to become a foreign missionary; proposing as a matter of course, to take whatever foreign assignment might be offered. After a final survey of the whole field, Rand decided that no place was more benighted than South Seabrook. He married a Miss Eaton, a native, and entered upon a ministry to last over sixty years. Little by little he worked for cleaner homes, for less whiskey, a little more school, and, at last, a little more Sunday observation.
    The greatest regeneration, however, came from economic cause. Two young men of Newburyport were heirs to the old homestead in Seabrook. They wished to start a shoe factory and decided to use the homestead for this purpose. The result was very satisfactory. Labor was plenty at hand and good. Soon, the business grew greatly. The Seabrookites went less and less to Newburyport; they became little by little more interested in their homes. Gardens started; schools began. The factory burned, but had to be rebuilt at once, and several big Haverhill manufacturers located branches in Seabrook. In 1921 the town looked quite attractive, quite neat. Homes were generally unassuming. Folks still married young, younger than at most places then. There were lots of children, no where more.