A briefe discription of New England and the severall townes therein: together with the present government thereof

In Short

Written in 1660, this document serves as both a geographical survey and a political critique of the American colonies. It catalogs the towns and industries stretching from Maine to the Hudson River, documenting the startling transformation of a wilderness into a thriving, self-sufficient society. Beyond the descriptions, the text functions as a strategic report to the English crown, aiming to expose the Massachusetts government's perceived overreach and its defiance of royal authority. It remains a vital primary source for understanding the friction between colonial self-rule and imperial control during the 1600s.

The Story

The narrative begins as a factual, clinical ledger of the northern coast, moving steadily southward from the bays of Maine. The author describes a landscape rapidly being claimed and civilized, noting the sawmills, fishing outposts, and fertile farmlands that have sprouted along the rivers. This is not merely a travelogue; it is a ledger of human industry. Each entry for a town—like Saco, Ipswich, or Salem—is paired with a brief account of its economic viability: the abundance of sturgeon, the quality of timber, or the success of the iron works.

As the account moves toward the Massachusetts heartland, the tone shifts from descriptive to intensely political. The author pauses his survey to challenge the legitimacy of the Massachusetts leadership. He argues that the colony’s government, having grown in power through the annexation of smaller, neighboring jurisdictions, has effectively "swallowed up" competing patents. He paints a portrait of a regime that operates with suspicious autonomy, ignoring the laws of England and imposing its own oaths of fidelity upon the inhabitants. The author highlights the irony that those who fled England to escape religious persecution have become, in his view, the new oppressors, banishing those who hold moderate or divergent views, such as the Lady Deborah Moody.

The narrative arc continues through the smaller, southern colonies of Plymouth, Connecticut, and New Haven. Here, the author examines the loose confederation of these settlements and their complex, often contentious, interactions with the Dutch in New York. He characterizes these colonial relationships as being driven by opportunistic trade interests rather than true loyalty to the Crown.

The work culminates in a broader reflection on the sheer scale of the transformation since the 1620s. The author marvels at the change: a region that once lacked even basic livestock and permanent housing now boasts massive herds of cattle, a bustling trade in timber and grain, and a formidable fleet of locally built ships. However, he concludes on a note of warning. By detailing the strength of the militia and the defiance of the local courts, the author effectively presents a case for the Crown to intervene. He suggests that the "Great Government of the Massachusetts" has become too powerful and too independent for its own good, documenting not just the growth of a new society, but the escalating tension between a distant King and a rapidly maturing, self-confident New World power.

How It Unfolds

The northern frontier The account opens with the rugged outposts of Maine and the shifting jurisdictional boundaries of Casco Bay and Saco. The author meticulously notes which settlements have been absorbed by the expanding reach of Massachusetts.

The industrial heartland Moving through the Merrimack River valley and the towns of Salisbury and Rowley, the focus shifts to the practical commodities of sheep, wool, and timber. The prose highlights the industrious nature of the immigrants who transformed these wild rivers into productive trade hubs.

The seat of power The survey reaches Boston, described as the metropolis of the region, where the author details the fortifications, the statehouse, and the bustling merchant class. This section serves as the tactical anchor for his later criticisms of the colonial government.

The political critique The author halts his geography to contrast the original royal patents with the reality of the governing bodies. He argues that the Massachusetts leaders have systematically undermined the King’s authority and oppressed non-conformists.

The southern confederacies The narrative moves into Plymouth, Connecticut, and New Haven, characterizing them as a fragile alliance. The author notes their reliance on "combination" rather than formal legal patents, suggesting their unity is motivated more by convenience than by law.

The final assessment The document concludes with a summary of the region's immense economic growth, comparing the scarcity of the 1620s to the prosperity of 1660. It ends by asserting that the Dutch settlements near the Hudson River actually belong to England by right of discovery, framing the entire coastal region as a ripe, if mismanaged, imperial asset.

The People

The author, Samuel Maverick, positions himself as a long-term resident and expert witness, someone who arrived early enough to witness the wilderness before its total transformation. His perspective is that of a loyalist who feels marginalized by the rise of the Puritan establishment.

He portrays the leaders of Massachusetts, such as John Winthrop and the early deputies, as ambitious men who built a state by ignoring the rights of existing patent holders. He views them as "Grandees" who prioritize their own religious and political agendas over the legal mandates of the Crown.

In contrast, the author sympathizes with figures like the Lady Deborah Moody, whom he describes as a victim of the colony's intolerance. By highlighting her struggle, he casts the Massachusetts government as a force of narrow-minded cruelty.

He also mentions figures like Captain Christopher Lewett and Colonel Alexander Rigby as examples of those whose legal claims were undermined by the aggressive expansion of the Massachusetts authorities. These figures serve as evidence for his broader argument that the colony has disregarded the property rights and patents of others.

Finally, he points to the "Master and students" of the college at Cambridge and the various merchants of Boston as evidence of a society that, while sophisticated, remains dangerously self-contained and increasingly detached from the influence or oversight of the English government.

In Its Own Voice

The place in which Boston (the Metropolis) is seated, I knew then for some yeares to be a Swamp and Pound, now a great Towne, two Churches, a Gallant Statehouse & more to make it compleate, then can be expected in a place so late a wilderness.

This reflection on the rapid development of Boston summarizes the author's awe at the region's physical transformation.

In the yeare 1626 or thereabouts there was not a Neat Beast Horse or sheepe in the Countrey and a very few Goats or hoggs, and now it is a wonder to see the great herds of Catle belonging to every Towne I have mentioned.

By contrasting the extreme scarcity of the early 1620s with the abundance of the 1660s, the author emphasizes the economic success of the colonists.

And wheras about the time before mentioned wee could not make in all three Hundred men in the whole Countrey, those scattered a hundred and ffi[f]tie Miles assunder, Now almost every Towne which I have named is able to bring into the feild a full Company of Foote.

The author uses this observation to warn that the military capacity of the colonies has reached a level that the Crown can no longer afford to ignore.

What It's Really About

At its core, this book is an argument about the nature of sovereignty. It asks: who truly owns the future of the American colonies—the pioneers who built the farms and mills, or the sovereign power in England that issued the original patents? Maverick is concerned with the loss of traditional, hierarchical control, arguing that the colonists have used their economic success to justify a total defiance of royal authority. The book functions as a diagnosis of the "New England experiment," concluding that the region has become a separate, self-governing entity that only pays lip service to the King. It captures the moment when colonial self-confidence began to directly challenge the assumptions of the British Empire.

Why Read It Today

Modern readers interested in the gritty, granular history of colonial life will find much to admire here. The book is not a romanticized history; it is a cold-eyed report from a man who watched his world change rapidly and often, in his opinion, unjustly. If you enjoy texts that capture the friction of political transition, you will appreciate how Maverick balances descriptive geography with a biting, insider's critique of the ruling class.

The reading experience can be challenging. The archaic spelling and punctuation are preserved as they were written, requiring a bit of patience to navigate. Furthermore, you must be prepared for the author’s strong, often exclusionary, biases. He is not an objective historian; he is a man with a grudge against the Puritan establishment, and his descriptions are colored by his desire to see the Crown reclaim control. However, this is precisely what makes the book worth reading today. It provides a rare, unfiltered look at the tensions, rivalries, and rapid urbanization of the 17th century. It feels like reading a secret briefing document from a bygone era—a piece of history that is as much about the author’s frustrated political agenda as it is about the shape of the land itself.