acres more, contiguous to the western line of the Orchard Farm.  After this, and as a part of the transaction, the present Ipswich road was made, and the old road through the Orchard Farm discontinued.  This illustrates the policy of the land grants.  They were made to persons who had the ability to lay out roads.  The present bridge over Crane River was probably built by Endicott and the parties to whom what is now called the Plains, one of the principal villages of Danvers, had been granted.  The tract granted by the town was popularly called the “Governor’s Plain.”  By giving, in this way, large tracts of land to men of means, the country was opened and made accessible to settlers who had no pecuniary ability to incur large outlays in the way of general improvements, but had the requisite energy and industry to commence the work of subduing the forest and making farms for themselves.  To them, smaller grants were made.

The character of the population, thus aided at the beginning in settling the country, cannot be appreciated without giving some idea of what it was to open the wilderness for occupancy and cultivation.  This is a subject which those who have always lived in other than frontier towns do not perhaps understand.

How much of the land had been previously cleared by the aboriginal tribes, it may be somewhat difficult to determine.  They were but slightly attached to the soil, had temporary and movable habitations, and no bulky implements or articles of furniture.  They were nomadic in their habits.  On the coast and its inlets, their light canoes gave easy means of transportation, for their families and all that they possessed, from point to point, and, further inland, over intervening territory, from river to river.  They probably seldom attempted, in this part of the country, to clear the rugged and stony uplands.  In some instances, they removed the trees from the soft alluvial meadows, although it is probable that in only a very few localities they would have attempted such a persistent and laborious undertaking.  There were large salt marshes, and here and there meadows, free from timber.  There were spots where fires had swept over the land and the trees disappeared.  On such spots they probably planted their corn; the land being made at once fertile and easily cultivable, by the effects of the fires.  Near large inland sheets of water, having no outlets passable by their canoes, and well stocked with fish, they sometimes had permanent plantations, as at Will’s Hill.  With such slight exceptions, when the white settler came upon his grant, he found it covered by the primeval wilderness, thickly set with old trees, whose roots, as well as branches, were interlocked firmly with each other, the surface obstructed with tangled and prickly underbrush; the soil broken, and mixed with rocks and stones,—­the entire face of the country hilly, rugged, and intersected by swamps and winding streams.

Among all the achievements of human labor and perseverance recorded in history, there is none more herculean than the opening of a New-England forest to cultivation.  The fables of antiquity are all suggestive of instruction, and infold wisdom.  The earliest inhabitants of every wooded country, who subdued its wilderness, were truly a race of giants.