by me in this city to the high official therein named, subject to those conditions which you have also heard.
Accordingly, on the 29th of April last I was summoned to the court, and there, having signed the receipt, this decree was read in my presence. Then the Bishop of London arose, and, taking the book in his hands, delivered it with a few gracious words into my custody, and here it is to-day.
The records of those proceedings will no doubt be preserved here as accompanying this book, as they are in the Episcopal Consistorial Court in London, and they tell the entire story.
But that is but part. The thing that I wish to impress upon you, and upon my fellow countrymen throughout the United States, is that this is an act of courtesy and friendship by another government—the government of what we once called our "mother country"—to the entire people of the United States.
You cannot limit it to the Governor of this Commonwealth; nor to the Legislature; nor even to the citizens of this Commonwealth. It extends in its courtesy, its kindness and comity to the entire people of the United States. From first to last there was the ready response of courtesy and kindness to the request for the restoration of this manuscript record.
I may say to you that there has been nothing that I have sought more earnestly than to place the affairs of these two great nations in the atmosphere of mutual confidence and respect and good-will. If it be a sin to long for the honor of one's country, for the safety and strength of one's country, then I have been a great sinner, for I have striven to advance the honor and the safety and the welfare of my country, and believed it was best accomplished by treating all with justice and courtesy, and doing those things to others which we would ask to have done to ourselves.
When the Chancellor pronounced his decree in March last, he cited certain precedents to justify him in restoring this volume to Massachusetts. One precedent which powerfully controlled his decision, and which in the closing portion of his judgment he emphasizes, was an act of generous liberality upon the part of the American Library Society in Philadelphia in voluntarily returning to the British government some volumes of original manuscript of the period of James the First, which by some means not very clearly explained had found their way among the books of that institution.
Those books were received by a distinguished man, Lord Romilly, Master of the Rolls, who took occasion to speak of the liberality and kindness which dictated the action of the Philadelphia library. Gentlemen, I am one of those who believe that a generous and kindly act is never unwise between individuals or nations.
The return of this book to you is an echo of the kindly act of your countrymen in the city of Philadelphia in 1866.
It is that, not, as Mr. Hoar has said, any influence or special effort of mine; but it is international good feeling and comity which brought about to you the pleasure and the joy of having this manuscript returned, and so it will ever be. A generous act will beget a generous act; trust and confidence will beget trust and confidence; and so it will be while the world shall last, and well will it be for the man or for the people who shall recognize this truth and act upon it.
Now, gentlemen, there is another coincidence that I may venture to point out. It is history repeating itself. More than three hundred years ago the ancestors from whom my father drew his name and blood were French Protestants, who had been compelled to flee from the religious persecutions of that day, and for the sake of conscience to find an asylum in Holland. Fifty years after they had fled and found safety in Holland, the little congregation of Independents from the English village of Scrooby, under the pastorate of John Robinson, was forced to fly, and with difficulty found its way into the same country of the Netherlands, seeking an asylum for consciences' sake.
Time passed on. The little English colony removed, as this manuscript of William Bradford will tell you, across the Atlantic, and soon after the Huguenot family from whom I drew my name found their first settlement in what was then the New Netherlands, now New York. Both came from the same cause; both came with the same object, the same purpose,—"soul freedom," as Roger Williams well called it. Both came to found homes where they could worship God according to their own conscience and live as free men. They came to these shores, and they have found the asylum, and they have strengthened it, and it is what we see to-day,—a country of absolute religious and civil freedom,—of equal rights and toleration.
And is it not fitting that I, who have in my veins the blood of the Huguenots, should present to you and your Governor the log of the English emigrants, who left their country for the sake of religious freedom?
They are blended here,—their names, their interests. No man asks and no man has a right to ask or have ascertained by any method authorized by law what is the conscientious religious tenet or opinion of any man, of any citizen, as a prerequisite for holding an office of trust or power in the United States.
I think it well on this occasion to make, as I am sure you are making, acknowledgment to that heroic little country, the Lowlands as they call it, the Netherlands,—the country without one single feature of military defence except the brave hearts of the men who live in it and defend it.
Holland was the anvil upon which religious and civil liberty was beaten out in Europe at a time when the clang was scarcely heard anywhere else. We can never forget our historical debt to that country and to those people. Puritan, Independent, Huguenot, whoever he may be, forced to flee for conscience's sake, will not forget that in the Netherlands there was found in his time of need the asylum where conscience, property and person might be secure.
And now my task is done. I am deeply grateful for the part that I have been enabled to take in this act of just and natural restitution. In Massachusetts or out of Massachusetts there is no one more willing than I to assist this work; and here, sir [addressing Governor Wolcott], I fulfil my trust in placing in your hands the manuscript.
To you, as the honored representative of the people of this Commonwealth, I commit this book, in pursuance of my obligations, gladly undertaken under the decree of the Episcopal Consistorial Court of London.
ADDRESS OF GOVERNOR WOLCOTT.
On receiving the volume, Governor Wolcott, addressing Mr. Bayard, spoke as follows: I thank you, sir, for the diligent and faithful manner in which you have executed the honorable trust imposed upon you by the decree of the Consistorial and Episcopal Court of London, a copy of which you have now placed in my hands. It was fitting that one of your high distinction should be selected to perform so dignified an office.
The gracious act of international courtesy which is now completed will not fail of grateful appreciation by the people of this Commonwealth and of the nation. It is honorable alike to those who hesitated not to prefer the request and to those whose generous liberality has prompted compliance with it. It may be that the story of the departure of this precious relic from our shores may never in its every detail be revealed; but the story of its return will be read of all men, and will become a part of the history of the Commonwealth. There are places and objects so intimately associated with the world's greatest men or with mighty deeds that the soul of him who gazes upon them is lost in a sense of reverent awe, as it listens to the voice that speaks from the past, in words like those which came from the burning bush, "Put off thy shoes from off thy feet, for the place whereon thou standest is holy ground."
On the sloping hillside of Plymouth, that bathes its feet in the waters of the Atlantic, such a voice is breathed by the brooding genius of the place, and the ear must be dull that fails to catch the whispered words. For here not alone did godly men and women suffer greatly for a great cause, but their noble purpose was not doomed to defeat, but was carried to perfect victory. They stablished what they planned. Their feeble plantation became the birthplace of religious liberty, the cradle of a free Commonwealth. To them a mighty nation owns its debt. Nay, they have made the civilized world their debtor. In the varied tapestry which pictures our national life, the richest spots