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Updated: October 14, 2025
That night I wrote a letter to A.L. Peters, the grain-dealer in Duxbury, asking for a job even though it wouldn't go ashore for a couple of weeks, just the writing of it made me feel better. It's hard to tell you how those two weeks went by. I don't know why, but I felt like hiding in a corner all the time.
The weather was fine, the winds favorable, and that evening they rounded Duxbury Point and entered Plymouth Bay just as the sun sank behind the hills back of the town. "Here 's the spot where the Mayflower dropped anchor," said the Captain, as the sloop approached a strip of sandy beach stretching like a long finger into the water. "I generally bring the Lucy Ann to at the same place.
My uncle and aunt in Duxbury brought me up strict; I studied hard in high school, I worked hard after hours, and I went to church twice on Sundays, and I can't see it's right to put me in a place like this, with crazy people. Oh yes, I know they're crazy you can't tell me.
For, wide as the Paradise field seemed to be growing from Thomas Jefferson's point of view, it was altogether too narrow for Duxbury Farley.
Sometimes a short address was given at the grave, as when Jonathan Alden was buried at Duxbury, in 1697. The Boston News Letter of December 31, 1730, notes a prayer at a funeral, and says: "Tho' a custom in the Country-Towns 'tis a Singular instance in this Place, but it's wish'd may prove a Leading Example to the General Practice of so Christian and Decent a Custom."
Three hundred years ago the house of Standish was a notable one in England. The family had numerous possessions; their Lancashire estate of Duxbury Hall, in the shadow of Rivington Pike and the Pennine Hills, was pleasant and extensive, and there they had lived for generations, as there they live to-day.
Then he said slowly: "I don't aim to go back on you, Buddy; not a foot 'r an inch. But it does seem to me like you put your finger in the fire when you hilt up Duxbury Farley for that proxy paper in New York. If we go under and the good Lord only knows how we can he'p it they'll come out of it with clean clothes, and we'll have to take all the mud-slingin', just as you say."
We think, however, that the ancient fable of Europa is likely to have suggested the ride to Duxbury on the back of the bull, for at that time there were few cattle in the colonies. "'The Tales of a Wayside Inn," said Mr. Longfellow, "received that name merely to give them locality. I had never been in the Wayside Inn, but once."
When they arrived at Duxbury, as they were not willing to thrust Alexander into a prison, Major Winslow received him into his own house, where he guarded him with vigilance, yet treated him courteously, until orders could be received from Governor Prince, who resided on the Cape at Eastham. At Duxbury, Alexander and his train were entertained for several days with the most scrupulous hospitality.
After the death of Bradford, Curtis wrote of him in one of the most appreciative of the biographical papers which the "Easy Chair" gave to the public: "Whoever had the happiness of knowing the late George P. Bradford, upon reading that he was the son of a stout sea-captain of Duxbury, must have recalled Charles Lamb's description of one of his comrades at the old South Sea House 'like spring, gentle offspring of blustering winter. A more gentle, truthful, generous, constant, high-minded, accomplished man, or, as Emerson, his friend of many years, said of Charles Sumner, 'a whiter soul, could not be known.
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