WHEN Professor Wilbur Cortez Abbott criticized recent historical trends in his pamphlet "Some 'New' History and Historians", he failed to call to account one type of historical writing which is particularly worthy of his censure. That is the New England kitchen-parlor history.

Expressed in more conventional terms, kitchen-parlor history is the story of some local historical event, put into book form by some local "historian", and abounding in local-color legends. It is peculiarly indigenous to New England, and "The Great Powwow", by Clara Endicott Sears, is an excellent example of it.

Miss Sears is telling the story of the war waged in the 1670's by the Indian chieftain Metacom, whom the English called King Philip, against the white settlers of the New England States. King Philip was centainly a very striking figure. Possessed of great strength and stature, his prowess in war kept the colonists in a continual state of fear, and the fight he led brought death to several hundred colonists and destruction to a dozen towns.

Unfortunately Miss Sears has been completely carried away by the romantic but overworked idea of King Philip leading the "noble red man" against the cruel and heartless force of oncoming civilization. Certainly there was something that was noble in the Indians' struggle, and Miss Sears has an inkling of it, but she has been so carried away by this small inkling that she has turned the whole war into an idealistic struggle against fate waged by a nation of sentimental philosophers.

For the material for this localized "history", Miss Sears has resorted to the old chronicles and to all the floating mass of legendary Indian tales available in every New England town. In particular, she says in her preface that she has made use of stories told her by her father's sister, who had these stories from her father, who had heard them from his mother, who had heard them from some one else. Of such is history made. This legendary atmosphere helps to make the story vivid but it also brings the kitchen-parlor element into unfortunate prominence. It is the first factor in making the book a colloquial story rather than a history.

The second factor is Miss Sears' manner of expressing herself. Choosing excerpts from a book is a vicious practice, but one example will illustrate this point unfortunately well and will serve as an all too fitting conclusion. Here is Miss Sears' eulogy of the slain Indian Metacom (King Philip): "Metacom--mighty warrior!--mighty patriot!--they could speak sneeringly of him now that he was lying dead in the mud, lie at whose name they had quailed when life was vibrant in him. They drag that kingly form through the mire and buffet it as nothing now but an old piece of clay! . . . . Where was that 'Great Cause' now? Right before them, sunk in the mud, so they would have answered. But how little they knew!" After all, how could they have known that Miss Sears would resurrect it?