Nothing says beach read like a book about New England’s Puritans and the colonies they founded. I enjoyed Sarah Vowell’s The Wordy Shipmates for the same reasons I enjoyed Assassination Vacation: she focuses on a very specific time in history or a specific idea and explores that theme in a chatty, informal and personal way. If you’re at all curious about the founding of Boston but don’t want to engage in a long, dry historical tome, pick up this book.
Vowell’s book covers the founding of New England by the Puritans of the ship Arbella, not the famous Mayflower. There are theological differences between them that may seem slight to modern readers, but were a big deal to them. The Plymouth (Mayflower) colonists were Separatists. The Massachusetts Bay colonists were not. Vowell amusingly warns that “readers who squirm at microscopic theological differences might be unsuited to read a book about seventeenth-century Christians. Or, for that matter, a newspaper” (5). If you are okay with that insult and not squirming, Vowell goes on to explain the theological differences—basically, it goes back the Reformation and the King Henry VIII’s break with the Pope. The newly created Protestants liked the Church of England until they noticed it still had many of the trappings of Catholicism (popery): same church hierarchy, same Latin sermons, same work outfit (oh, those dastardly vestments!), same too-easily-achieved salvation. Puritans didn’t want a fancy church, and they wanted getting into heaven to be really hard…and extremely selective. Puritans believed that salvation is predetermined by God, and no amount of faith or good works will allow entry. So Puritans who completely revolted against the Church of England called themselves Separatists and sailed away on the Mayflower. Those who wanted to keep ties to the C of E because they thought they could reform it from the inside out called themselves Nonseparatists and sailed away on the Arbella. The Wordy Shipmates follows the journey of the Nonseparatists Massachusetts Bay colony.
I like Vowell’s prose because while it’s clear she is very intelligent and researches the hell out of her subjects, she is chatty and funny. She discusses how, as a child, she learned about American history via tv sitcoms. Specifically, The Brady Bunch and Happy Days. She compares those Puritan-themed (and factually troubled) episodes with Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s (once popular/still popular? in grade school lessons) 1858 poem, “The Courtship of Miles Standish” which also romanticizes and fudges a lot of Puritan facts: “In other words, Americans have learned our history from exaggerated popular art for as long as anyone can remember. Revolutionary War soldiers were probably singing fun but inaccurate folk songs about those silly Puritans to warm themselves by the fire at Valley Forge” (21).
Historical characters such as John Winthrop, John Cotton, Anne Hutchinson, and Roger Williams are brought to life in all of their complexities. Vowell also traces the roots of the now popular sound bite of America being a “shining city on a hill” to John Winthrop’s “A Model of Christian Charity”—a sermon he delivered that caused no stir among its listeners. Why? Because it was old news for Puritans; they had heard all that stuff before. Vowell examines the messages in the sermon and how (for the most part) revolutionary and wonderful she finds them and how the sermon has been the foundation for other speakers (Martin Luther King, Jr.) and perverted by politicians (specifically Ronald Reagan, who added “shining” to the phrase).
This is a relatively short book (my paperback edition is under 250 pages), but Vowell packs in a lot of historical details and analyses of those details. She traces the roots of the Pequot Massacre by Massachusetts Bay Puritans and the Narragansett Native Americans. While the Narragansett teamed up with the English to basically save themselves, the Puritans murdered and burned alive nearly 700 hundred people of the Pequot tribe for less than noble reasons: “The Pequot War is a pure war. And by pure I don’t mean good. I mean it is war straight up, a war set off by murder and vengeance and fueled by misunderstanding, jealousy, hatred, stupidity, racism, lust for power, lust for land, and, most of all, greed” (166). Certainly the Narragansett don’t come off looking great for their part in the war, but when they saw the cruelty and savagery of the Englishmen, they called it evil while the Puritans congratulated themselves on ridding themselves of the savages, justified their actions through various Biblical verses and sold off remaining Pequot to Bermuda as slaves.
The Wordy Shipmates is an excellent, focused examination of the Massachusetts Bay Colony Puritans. Vowell’s commentary is at turns funny and sarcastic and personal and she makes it clear why their history still impacts—and is important to—our present. She wraps up the book by discussing the presidential inauguration speech of John F. Kennedy. He quotes from Winthrop’s “A Model of Christian Charity,” a fact that Vowell finds amusing because Winthrop (as did all Puritans) regarded Catholics as essentially agents of Satan. She goes on to say about his speech: “Nowadays, I cannot imagine an American from Massachusetts could get elected president period [due to its liberalism], much less a Harvard grad prone to elitist quotations from ancient Greece” (246). She’s so right about that—and this book was published in 2008, pre-dating our current American President of Stupidity. I highly recommend this book if you enjoy your history with a side of chatty commentary.