Christopher Avery did it his way
I try to learn enough about the people I’m researching to get a sense of them as complex, authentic human beings, not just flat figures in a history book. That’s often difficult, but in the case of Christopher Avery, a Puritan party animal, it was entertainingly easy.
Around 1630 Christopher left England for Boston with his 11-year-old son, James. Christopher was leaving a lot behind: his wife Margery, his business as a weaver, and 40 years of associations in the place he called home. Still, his marriage wasn’t a happy one, and as a middle-aged man with more years behind than ahead of him, he must have thought that making a new beginning was a chance that wouldn’t come again. It would probably be heartbreaking to know how mother and son felt about saying goodbye.
By 1642 Christopher was settled on Cape Ann, where he owned lot #2, right next to Hugh Calkins (New London historian Frances Caulkins’ ancestor). Christopher held a number of civic offices, was popular with his contemporaries, and enjoyed drinking at the tavern where he flirted with the serving girls.
He had a reputation for rowdiness which didn’t help his cause when he was hauled into court to answer charges of being a married man living apart from his wife. Puritan authorities felt that such arrangements could only lead to trouble. Offenders were fined and urged to persuade their wives to join them or return to England to retrieve them. Christopher faced these charges several times, but was finally excused based on his age and plea of poverty. At his last hearing no one apparently knew the sad truth that Margery had been dead for many years.
Christopher diligently read his Breeches Bible, a Bible that predated the King James Version and was designed specifically for self-study. His in-depth knowledge emboldened him to challenge the scriptural interpretations of the Rev. Richard Blinman, Cape Ann’s minister, with whom he heartily disagreed. Many people disliked Blinman, but Christopher’s outspoken criticism landed him once
again in trouble with the authorities. He was called to account for publicly “scoffing” a man of the cloth.
When some Cape Ann residents, including Blinman and Christopher’s son, James, moved to New London, Christopher didn’t immediately follow, possibly because of his antipathy toward Blinman. (New London welcomed the new arrivals by laying out a new road, Cape Ann Lane, now Jefferson Avenue. Today, Cape Ann Court still reminds us of these early settlers.)
An event that Christopher might have preferred to forget took place in April 1655 on a boat anchored off Gloucester, well away from disapproving eyes. Christopher and some of his buddies had a boisterous party, sang, smashed bottles, and quickly became roaring drunk. Christopher took the wife of one of his friends on his lap, and at one point — allegedly — got so blitzed that he accidentally drank from an inkwell instead of a beer mug.
Drunkenness was a serious offense and the next day, while probably nursing the headache from hell, Christopher had to face accusations of wrongdoing. He denied any culpability and foolishly sued his accusers for defamation. The jury held that, while there was no proof of Christopher’s misbehavior, it was quite believable considering his reputation. Ouch!
In 1658 Christopher moved to Boston, purchasing a small plot which is now part of Quincy Market. A few years later he followed his son to New London, where he could enjoy being near James and the grandchildren without worrying about running into the annoying Rev. Blinman, who by this time had worn out his welcome in New London.
Christopher died in 1678 and was probably buried on his son’s property. He doesn’t have a tombstone, but if he did, the epitaph might read something like this: “Here lies Christopher Avery, a man possessed of piety, plain speech, and the joy of living.”
Carol Sommer of Waterford is a self-proclaimed history nut. She writes a monthly history column inspired by local street signs.