J^'"\hA^ 
 
O^^ornell Imuetaitg 2Iihrarg 
 
 Dt^aca, Hew ^arh 
 
 P^es. J., G... . Scliurfflan 
 
Cornell University 
 Library 
 
 The original of this book is in 
 the Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924022151231 
 

Cornell University Library 
 PS 2459.M9S5P6 
 
 3 1924 022 151 231 
 
NIGHT CAJHE, AND THE PILGRIM BAND, NOW IN A VAST AND UNKNOWN WILDERNESS, 
 WENT INTO CAMP AND KINDI^D A WATCHFIHE. 
 
THE PILGEIM8 
 
 A STORY OF MASSACHUSETTS 
 
 BY 
 
 JOWN Ef MUSIOK 
 
 AUTHOR OF "COLUMBIA," " BSTBVAN, " "ST. AUGUSTIITE,' 
 "POCAHONTAS," ETC., ETC. 
 
 ILLUSTBATIONS BY F. A. CARTER 
 
 "Ntio ¥orfe 
 
 FUNK & WAGNALLS COMPANY 
 London and Toronto 
 
 1894 
 Printed in the United States. 
 
 L 
 
l\A%%\S% 
 
 COFTRIGHT, 1893, BY THE 
 
 FUNK & WAGNALLS COMPANY 
 
 [Registered at Stationers^ Hall^ London, -^ifir.] 
 
tro 
 
 THOSE BELOVED AND PLEASING CHILDREN, 
 
 ORA AND HAZEL MUSICK, 
 
 THIS BOOK 
 
 IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED 
 
 BY 
 
 THEIR FATHER 
 
PREFACE, 
 
 This volume is designed to cover the history 
 of New England, in the form of a story, from 
 1620 to 1644, the period at which the New England 
 colonies formed their first confederation for mutual 
 protection. Mathew Stevens, a youth born at St. 
 Augustine of Spanish and French parents, had 
 been abducted and carried to England, in the year 
 1586, by Sir Francis Drake, and was there pur- 
 chased by Mr. John Eobinson, who "had compas- 
 sion on the child," and brought him up "in the 
 fear of the Lord. " Thus Mathew Stevens (Mattheo 
 Estevan) , though bom of a Catholic father, became 
 an English Puritan. By transferring the Estevan 
 family from Florida to England, they are changed 
 from Spanish to English, without breaking the 
 lineal- descent from the first youth who sailed with 
 Columbus to Mathew Stevens the young Puritan. 
 
vi PREFACE. 
 
 His romantic adventures and singular love affair 
 form the cMef groundwork for this story. 
 
 In order that the reader may have a better idea 
 of the Pilgrims and their peculiar persecutions, the 
 story opens with their flight into Holland. Just 
 a glimpse of their life in Leyden is given, and they 
 are hastened on board the Mayflower., where will 
 be found as full and accurate an account of their 
 memorable voyage as can be given without weary- 
 ing one with useless detail. Though the Pilgrims 
 and the colony of Massachusetts form the main 
 features of the story, it embraces the history of 
 North America from the time at which the novel 
 "Pocahontas" left off, to the year when the col- 
 onies of New England were united. 
 
 John E. Mdsick. 
 KTTCKSvnjJ!, Mo. , June 1st, 1892. 
 
TABLE OF CO^TEI^TS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 PAOE 
 
 The Captuee and Escape 1 
 
 CHAPTER n. 
 Mathew and Hans, 36 
 
 CHAPTER ni. 
 The Mayflowee 45 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 Plymouth Rock, .... ... 65 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 Death op Rose Standish 88 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 Alice, 105 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 The Growing Hemisphere, 131 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 The Skeleton in the Closet, . . . . .138 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Mathew Meets an Old Friend, .... 155 
 
 vii 
 
viii CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The Rival of Miles Standish, 17a 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 Roger Wilijams 189 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 The Soldier Finds Work 210 
 
 CHAPTER Xni. 
 Good for Evil, ... . 22E 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 Fire and Sword, .... 345 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 The Hartford Convention, 26( 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 The Mischief Maker, ... . . . 27S 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 Maryland, . . 39( 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 Seeking the Lost, .... . . 311 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 Day Dawns 32f 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 Conclusion, . . 34( 
 
 Historical Index, 36: 
 
 Chronology, . . . 36! 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTEATIOI^S. 
 
 PAGK 
 
 " Night came, and the Pilgrim band, now in a vast 
 and unknown wilderness, went into camp 
 and kindled a watch-flre" (see page 68) , Frontispiece 
 
 Pilgrim standing in the pillory 1 
 
 It was quite evident that they feared pm-suit, 3 
 
 " By the mass, it is a Puritan in arms !" . 14 
 
 "Do you want your liberty?" . . 32 
 
 They were seated before the cheerful peat fire, 44 
 
 Francis Billington, .... 57 
 
 "Help me out! 'Tisatrap!" . . 73 
 
 Indian huts, . . 78 
 
 He paused for her answer, . ... 117 
 The Hollanders did not seem to be in the least alarmed 
 
 at his threats . 137 
 
 "What troubles you, Matthew?" . 143 
 
 "Pry thee, John, why do you not speak for yourself? " 184 
 
 He took shelter in a hollow tree, 306 
 
 "Go, Roger Williams, fly at once!" . . .307 
 
 Endicott, . . . ... 318 
 
 Indian maiden beating hominy, .... 333 
 
 The door of mercy was shut, ... . 356 
 
 Eoger Williams' house and Indian chief's grave, 359 
 
 Davenport, . . 363 
 
 Strange emotions swayed his soul as he lifted the lid, 385 
 The whole company followed Calvert and the priests 
 
 in procession, . . . 306i 
 
 "You— you are her father!" . 339 
 
 " Wod be praised, day dawns at last 1 " . . 845 
 
 Map of the period 393 
 
THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 CHAPTBE I. 
 
 THE CAPTURE AND ESCAPE. 
 
 Why do these steeds stand ready dight? 
 Why watch these warriors armed by night? 
 They watch to hear the blood -hound baying, 
 They watch to hear the war-horn braying. 
 
 —Scott. 
 
 ■T the close of a dreary day 
 in March, 1608, two pedes- 
 trians were passing along 
 one of those lonely and 
 unused roads in an unfrequented 
 heath in Lincolnsliire. The horn- 
 was a little past twilight and the 
 western sky presented an un- 
 usual, if not an ominous, ap- 
 pearance. A sharp and melan- 
 choly breeze was abroad, and 
 the sun, which had become 
 lost in a mass of red clouds, 
 half angry and half placid 
 in appearance, had for some 
 brief space gone down. 
 Over from" the north, how- 
 
3 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 ever, glided, by imperceptible degrees, a long black 
 bar, right across the place of the sun's disappear- 
 ance, and nothing could be more striking than the 
 wild and unnatural contrast between the dying crim- 
 son of the west and the fearful mass of impenetrable 
 darkness that came over it. There was no moon 
 and the portion of light, or rather "darkness 
 visible, " that feebly appeared on the sky and land- 
 scape, was singularly sombre and impressive, if 
 not actually appalling. The scene about the pedes- 
 trians was wild and desolate in the extreme, and 
 as the faint outlines of the blasted heaths appeared 
 in the dim and melancholy distance, the feelings 
 they were calculated to inspire were those of dis- 
 comfort and depression. On either side of the 
 travellers was a variety of lonely lakes, abrupt 
 precipices, and extensive marshes, and as they jour- 
 neyed along, the hum of the snipe, the feeble but 
 mournful cry of the plover, and the wilder and more 
 piercing whistle of the curlew seemed to deepen 
 the melancholy dreariness of the situation, adding 
 to the anxiety of the travellers to press onward. 
 
 They gathered their cloaks more closely about 
 them and drew their steeple-crowned hats low over 
 their faces as the bleak March winds swept across 
 the dismal heath. Each carried a stout staff in his 
 hand; but no other arms were perceptible. The 
 elder was about forty-eight years of age, and the 
 
THE CAPTURE AND ESCAPE. 3 
 
 yonnger not over tliirty-tliree. There was a dig- 
 nity and clerical manner about them, which at 
 once marked them as ministers of the Gospel. 
 
 It was quite evident that they feabed pubsuit. 
 
 TJieir quick, nervous steps and the watchful 
 glances, which from time to time they cast about 
 them, made it quite evident that they feared 
 pursuit. 
 
4 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 "We shall soon be at the Humber, Mr. Brew- 
 ster," the younger of the twain encouragingly 
 remarked. 
 
 "So we shall," Brewster answered, "and I trust 
 that Grod will guard us from the enemy, that we 
 may plant the vine out of Egypt." 
 
 Robinson listened for a moment, as if expect- 
 ing to hear the roll of Pharaoh's chariots, and 
 remarked : 
 
 " We seem to have escaped. " After a moment's 
 silence, Brewster added: 
 
 "Ah! Mr. Eobinson, it is hard to be thus 
 driven out of our own land and forced to go and 
 dwell among strangers. Sad is the day when 
 we cannot worship Grod according to our own 
 conscience." 
 
 "The Lord's will be done," answered Mr. Rob- 
 inson. John Robinson, the pastor of the Pilgrim 
 church in England, afterward at Leyden, was the 
 personification of patience and Christian resigna- 
 tion. William Brewster, his companion in ban- 
 ishment, was at times despondent and ready to give 
 up in despair, and, but for Robinson, the church 
 organization would no doubt have gone to pieces 
 in the dark days of 1608. Thoroughly imbued 
 with religious thought, with a faith as firm as old 
 Plymouth Rock, he believed that the clouds were 
 never so dark that the sun did not shine brightly 
 
THE CAPTURE AND ESCAPE. 5 
 
 beyond, for God never deserts his own. John 
 Eobinson was born to lead. He was of that stuff 
 of which martyrs are made, and while the king, 
 through his officials, was harassing the Pilgrims, 
 Eobinson was ever cheerful, ever happy, and 
 praised God continually. 
 
 " Our gathering place is in sight," remarked Mr. 
 Brewster as they came upon a part of the heath 
 near the mouth of the Humber. "Behold, the 
 vessel rides at anchor to bear the exiles from their 
 native shores." 
 
 "God wills it," reveren-tly answered Eobinson. 
 
 An assembly of men, women and children were 
 gathered on the heath near the river. Beneath 
 some blasted trees, which tossed their barren 
 branches against the leaden sky, were piled the 
 household effects of the Pilgrims. That gathering 
 was composed of simple farmers and mechanics. 
 Not a man of gentle blood was among them. Not 
 a man of prominence, or — if we exclude Brewster 
 and Eobinson- — of more than mediocre ability,' was 
 in that assemblage, yet among them were the seeds 
 of a mighty nation. Giants in intellect sprang 
 from those humble farmers and tradesmen to the 
 confusion of the doctrine of inherited genius. 
 
 The Pilgrim leaders were greeted with low mur- 
 murs of welcome from the assembled band. No 
 pne dared speak in a loud tone lest some of the 
 
Missing Page 
 
Missing Page 
 
8 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 treasures. The quaint old lock which had been 
 broken was such as would excite the wonder of a 
 modern locksmith. It had two handles, one at 
 either end, strongly made of bands of steel. 
 
 "Whose oaken chest is this?" Bradford again 
 asked. 
 
 "It is the property of our pastor, Mr. Eobin- 
 son," Stephen Hopkins answered. 
 
 "I never saw such curious handiwork. He 
 surely kept it concealed." 
 
 " Perhaps it is a sacred relic. " 
 
 "It was not made in England." 
 
 " Wo, I have heard that it came from the Span- 
 ish colonies in America." 
 
 Further conversation was interrupted by the im- 
 patient master of the vessel, saying: 
 
 " Haste, we have just received information that 
 a party of the king's horse has started to intercept 
 us." 
 
 "Is this your chest, Mr. Eobinson?" asked 
 Bradford of the pastor who came along at that 
 moment. 
 
 "Yes — no — that is, it belongs to my foster-son, 
 Mathew." 
 
 " Where did he get it?" asked the inquisitive 
 Stephen Hopkins. 
 
 "Haste, friend Hopkins, never mind the chest." 
 
 "You can tell us, even as we carry it aboard." 
 
THE CAPTURE AND ESCAPE. 9 
 
 " It was brought by Sir Francis Drake from St. 
 Augustine. That is sufficient for the present; at 
 some future time I may tell you the story of that 
 oaken chest, but we have not time now. Make 
 thee haste, and get everything aboard." 
 
 The energetic pastor, assisted by his ruling 
 elder, Mr. William Brewster, was everywhere, 
 urging the men to extra exertion. They even 
 carried some of the heaviest articles themselves, for 
 Eobinson and Brewster were physical as well as 
 moral giants. Each possessed a constitution unim- 
 paired by dissipation and hardened by exposure. 
 All the Pilgrims worked steadily, and the loading 
 went rapidly on. 
 
 Save their household effects and a few tools, 
 there was little else to carry aboard the ship. 
 Piled under one of the leafless trees, through the 
 barren branches of which the night wind sighed a 
 motirnfiil requiem, were the arms and armor of 
 the Pilgrims, for each Pilgrim was a soldier in 
 defence of his civil and religious liberties. Half 
 a hundred of those quaint old guns, called match- 
 locks, rarely seen at this day, even in the mu- 
 seums, leaned against the tree. 
 
 The match-lock was still in- general use at that 
 day, for the wheel-lock never did fully supplant it. 
 It was an improvement over the arquebus, as it 
 was provided with a cock in which a match was 
 
10 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 kept. It was also provided with a pan, covered 
 by a bit of steel to protect the powder. Before 
 firing his musket, the soldier had to blow the 
 ashes off his match, and open his pan. The gun 
 called the snaphance, or flint-lock, though invented 
 at this time, had not come into general use. In 
 addition to the guns and a few pistols, there were 
 many jacks of mail, swords and rapiers, with belts, 
 corsets, breasts and backs, culets, gorgets, tasses 
 and head-pieces, all varnished black, with leathers 
 and strong buckles, piled in promiscuous confu- 
 sion about the root of the tree. One to gaze upon 
 the warlike array of arms and protective armor, 
 could hardly suppose that they were the property 
 of a band of churchmen. 
 
 The sailors of the vessel were indolent fellows, 
 and refused to aid the Pilgrims to get their goods 
 on board the vessel. Having served with Drake 
 and Hawkins in their semi-piratical expeditions, 
 they had an aversion to either honest toil or hon- 
 est pay. The greatest part of the Pilgrims were 
 consequently kept on board of the vessel, packing 
 their goods in the hold of the ship, while all the 
 remainder were busy rowing the boats, and carry- 
 ing ofi: the effects. 
 
 The women and children hovered about the 
 watch-fire, keeping close together to instill some 
 warmth into their poor shivering bodies. 
 
THE CAPTURE AND ESCAPE. 11 
 
 The last boat-load had gone and only three men 
 remained on shore. They were the pastor John 
 Eobinson, Stephen Hopkins and Edward Tilly. 
 
 Mr. Eobinson went to where the women and 
 children of his flock hovered about the fire, and 
 endeavored to instil into their fainting souls some 
 hope. He told them that the sun never failed to 
 shine, however dark it might seem. So was God's 
 goodness always shining upon us. The wickedness 
 of kings and rulers might temporarily obscure the 
 joy which God intended for his children; yet in 
 time, happiness would return as surely as the sun 
 came after the night to warm and invigorate the 
 earth. 
 
 Hope began once more to revive in their hearts, 
 and the poor mothers were clasping their children 
 more closely to their breasts, praying that the 
 good time might not be long delayed, when the 
 sound of rapid footsteps fell on their ears. Some 
 one was running toward the band of unhappy 
 Pilgrims. 
 
 "Mr. Eobinson," cried the excited Stephen 
 Hopkins, "something is amiss; come this way." 
 
 The pastor left the women and hurried to the 
 tree under which his two companions stood. 
 
 "Behold, here comes some one at full speed!" 
 
 The eyes of the pastor were sharp, and pierced 
 the darkness like an eagle's. He saw a familiar 
 
12 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 form running toward them. It was a slender young 
 figure clad in tlie costume of a Pilgrim, save that 
 he wore a green cap instead of. the steeple-crowned 
 hat. In his right hand he carried a sword, and 
 one could have told by his flashing eye and 
 agitated manner, that he was laboring under some 
 great excitement. 
 
 "Fly! fly! fly!" cried the young man, leaping 
 to the side of Mr. Eobinson. "The king's horse 
 are on you. Fly for your lives!" 
 
 "Mathew," said Mr. Eobinson calmly. 
 
 "Go, you have not a moment to lose." 
 
 "We cannot go. All the boats are at the 
 ship." 
 
 "There is one small boat on the beach," cried 
 Hopkins. "Come, Mr. Eobinson, you must go, 
 or they will hang you. You know the king's 
 order." 
 
 "Would you have us desert the women?" de- 
 manded Eobinson. 
 
 "They will not harm the women and children; 
 but King James would hang you." Then Stephen 
 Hopkins and Edward Tilly laid hold of their pas- 
 tor and by main force dragged him to the small 
 boat lying on the beach. He was forced into it 
 and rowed from the shore. Eealizing how power- 
 less he was to aid the helpless and innocent, the 
 good pastor burst into tears, crying: 
 
THE CAPTURE AND ESCAPE. 13 
 
 "The women and cMldren! the women and 
 children!" 
 
 " Never fear, " responded Mathew, who remained 
 on shore, sword in hand. "I will protect the 
 women and children." 
 
 The boat reached the ship, the pastor was taken 
 on board, and the captain, fearing that his vessel 
 might be seized, set sail. Thus the Pilgrim 
 Fathers quitted England for Holland. 
 
 The young man who had given the warning was 
 a daring fellow with dark eyes and masses of wav- 
 ing hair hanging about his face. He was of 
 medium height, possessing a form that seemed to 
 defy fatigue, exposure, and disease. He was more 
 of a cavalier than an English Puritan. It is need- 
 less to say that he was brave; his actions had 
 already established that fact. This young man 
 was the Mathew, of whom Mr. Eobinson had 
 spoken as being on guard on the heath. 
 
 Mathew watched the small boat only a moment, 
 and then, turning about, hastened to the women 
 and children, who were giving utterance to the 
 most piteous cries and lamentations. The body 
 of horsemen came iii sight, and could' be seen 
 dashing over the heath, spreading oiit to the right 
 and left, like the wings of a great black 
 vulture. 
 
 Against that body of cavaliers was interposed 
 
14 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 the single arm of Mathew. He rushed at the head 
 of the column, crying: 
 
 "Back! back! back, tyrants, or you will rue 
 this day's work!" 
 
 "Prythee! whom have we here?" demanded the 
 captain of the dragoons. 
 
 "By the mass! it's a Puritan in arms," answered 
 one of his lieutenants. "Marry! but he is a dar- 
 ing fellow. With your consent, captain, I will 
 cut the comb of this young cock." 
 
 " Have a care that he does not prove too much 
 for you." 
 
 The lieutenant laughed, and, touching his 
 horse's flank with his spur, leaped at the youth, 
 aiming a downward blow with his heavy sabre, 
 which Mathew easily parried, and next moment 
 the point of his own blade rang against the horse- 
 man's breast-plate. 
 
 "Beware!" shouted the captain. The affair 
 which he had hoped would not resiilt in blood- 
 shed, gave promise of a tragical ending. 
 
 "Away, tyrants!" cried the exasperated 
 Mathew. 
 
 "He breathes treason!" shouted the angry lieu- 
 tenant, directing a second blow at the youth's 
 head, which he dexterously dodged, at the same 
 time pricking the officer's horse with the point of 
 his sword, causing the animal to leap so suddenly 
 
" BY THE 3tfASS, IT 13 A PtTRITAN IN AHMS I " 
 
THE CAPTURE AND ESCAPE. 15 
 
 backward, that the officer lost his seat and fell 
 headlong to the ground. 
 
 In a moment Mathew's foot was on the breast of 
 the fallen man, and, turning defiantly on the 
 horde which surrounded him, he cried: 
 
 "Back! back, cowards, or I will slay your 
 officer!" 
 
 The affair could have but one ending. It was 
 valor thrown away. Mathew was surrounded by 
 the host of cavalry, disarmed, and made a prisoner 
 in much less time than we could describe the 
 event. Being securely bound, he was carried 
 away to the nearest village and lodged in a tem- 
 porary prison, until he could be transferred to a 
 more secure jail. 
 
 Just as the boat containing Mr. Eobinson 
 reached the ship, the horsemen seized on the help- 
 less women and children who had not yet ven- 
 tured on the surf. "Pitiful it was to see the 
 heavy case of these poor women in their distress; 
 what weeping and crying on every side!" Their 
 only crime was that they would not part from their 
 husbands and fathers. Their helpless condition 
 appealed even to the stony hearts of their captors, 
 and they were taken to the nearest hamlet and 
 lodged in comfortable houses, until their case 
 could be heard by the magistrates. 
 
 The reader of this story is no doubt asking him- 
 
16 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 self why these defenceless women and children 
 were seized by the king's troops. What crime 
 had they committed that they could not leave 
 their country? Their crime was daring to assert 
 their rights to religious liberty. The student of 
 history will bear in mind that there existed, about 
 the beginning of Queen Elizabeth's reign, three 
 powerful religious parties — Eoman Catholic, Ang- 
 lican and Puritan — crystallized into distinct sects 
 and all struggling for supremacy. The first revolt 
 against the mother church at Eome, led by 
 Luther and Melancthon, only marked the begin- 
 ning of an era of reformations. Once secession 
 from the church had commenced — once liberty of 
 conscience had been established, and creeds almost 
 innumerable sprang up, and have continued to 
 spring up to this day. Among them was a class 
 of Christians who, from the purity of their lives 
 and the simplicity of their manners, were called 
 Puritans. As is often the case, the epithet given 
 in derision became respectable, and to-day the 
 name of Puritan is venerated by the civilized 
 world. 
 
 The Puritans were fewer in number than either 
 of their antagonists, but stronger in the moral 
 power which asserts and defends the rights of 
 man. They boldly declared the right of private 
 judgment in religious matters to be inalienable, and 
 
THE CAPTURE AND ESCAPE. 17 
 
 that every human being was endowed with the 
 natural privilege of worshipping God according to 
 the dictates of conscience. Upon the same plat- 
 form of principles they asserted the rights of the 
 people to the enjoyment of civil freedom, doctrines 
 very much at variance with the prevailing ideas of 
 sovereignty in all the civilized world. The Puri- 
 tan pulpits became the tribunes of the common 
 people, and sometimes the preachers were bold 
 enough to promulgate the democratic doctrine, so 
 dangerous to the royal prerogative, that the sovereign 
 was amenable to public opinion when fairly expressed. 
 The Anglican Church still retained the Eomish 
 ritual, and many of the leading clergymen opposed 
 its use, and Bishop Hooper made Puritanism con- 
 spicuous by refusing to be consecrated in the eccle- 
 siastical vestments. Bishop Ooverdale, and other 
 high dignitaries at a little later period, refused to 
 subscribe to the Liturgy and ceremonials, and so 
 led the great army of nonconformists. The fears 
 and jealousy of the queen resulted in the "Thirty- 
 nine Articles of Eeligion of the Anglican Church," 
 which were, by an act of Parliament, made the rule 
 of faith and practice for all subjects of the realm. 
 Whitgift, Archbishop of Canterbury, was com- 
 manded to enforce discipline, upon which he issued 
 his infamous instructions to the bishops, to " for- 
 bid and prevent preaching, catechizing, and pray- 
 2 
 
18 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 ing in any private fanaily in tlie presence of persons 
 not belonging to it, and to silence all preachers 
 and catechists who had not received orders from 
 the Episcopal hands, or who refused or neglected to 
 read the whole of the service or to wear the pre- 
 scribed clerical habits, or to subscribe to the 
 queen's supremacy, the Thirty-nine Articles, and 
 the Book of Common Prayer." Despite all the 
 persecution, Puritanism flourished and grew more 
 rank, especially in secret. Ministers and congre- 
 gations withdrew from the Anglican Church, and 
 so acquired the name of Separatists or Indepen- 
 dents. At the time of the death of Queen Elizabeth 
 they numbered twenty thousand, and were the 
 special objects for Whitgift's lash. Some of the 
 ministers and their congregations, unable to endure 
 the oppression, withdrew to Holland where there 
 was religious freedom for all. 
 
 On the ascension of James to the throne of 
 England, it was hoped, as he was reputed to be a 
 Presbyterian, that there would be some toleration; 
 but, alas, they were doomed to a wretched disap- 
 pointment. Soon after James was crowned, he 
 called a conference at Hampton Court, in which 
 he was the chief actor. At this conference the 
 Puritan divines, some of them the most eminent 
 scholars in the land, were annoyed by the coarse 
 browbeating of the bishop of London, and the vul- 
 
THE CAPTURE AND ESCAPE. 19 
 
 gar jests of the king. A modern writer, in sum- 
 ming np the verdict rendered by history on the 
 character of King James, says: 
 
 "He was cunning, covetous, wasteful, idle, 
 drunken, greedy, dirty, cowardly, a great swearer, 
 and the most conceited man on earth." 
 
 Such was the character of the man under whose 
 reign John Eobinson and William Brewster, with 
 their flocks, determined to emigrate to Holland, 
 whither many had gone before them. And all this 
 misery, this flight by night, capture and imprison- 
 ment grew out of a difference of opinion as to 
 serving the same God. The differences were said 
 by Mr. Robinson to be "in some accidental cir- 
 cumstances," such as: 
 
 "Their .ministers do pray with their heads 
 covered; we uncovered. We choose none for 
 governing elders, but such as are able to teach, 
 which ability they do not require. Their elders 
 and deacons are annual, or at most for two or 
 three years; ours perpetual. Our elders do ad- 
 minister their office in admonitions and ex-com- 
 munications for public scandals, publicly and before 
 the congregation; theirs more privately, and in 
 their consistories. We do administer baptism only 
 to such infants as whereof the one parent, at least, 
 is of some church, which some of their churches 
 do not observe; although in it our practice accords 
 
30 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 with their public confession and the judgment of 
 the most learned among them." 
 
 It might seem at first that these poor women and 
 children were arrested on that dark March night, 
 because they prayed with their heads uncovered. 
 Such was not the fact. It was not so much mat- 
 ters of religious conscience which made King James 
 and his predecessor become the enemies of -the 
 Puritans, as the ideas of liberty which they boldly 
 promulgated. 
 
 Some historians say that when an application 
 was made to the king for a patent, under the 
 "king's broad seal," for a church of Puritans, 
 maintaining the liberty and power under God of 
 choosing and ordaining their own ministers, the 
 blustering monarch answered: 
 
 " Give them a patent for such religion! They 
 will be for choosing their king next. We will 
 make them conform, or hang them; that is all." 
 
 In the dark hours of persecution, Holland was 
 very naturally looked to by the Puritans as the 
 place where they might fully enjoy the liberty of 
 conscience. In the controversy with Spain, Hol- 
 land had displayed Eepublican virtues, and, in 
 the reformation of the churches, had imitated the 
 discipline of Calvin. In its greatest dangers, Hol- 
 land had had England for its ally. At one time, 
 it had almost become a part of the English. 
 
THE CAPTURE AND ESCAPE. 21 
 
 dominions, and the "cautionary towns" were still 
 garrisoned by English, regiments, some of which 
 were friendly to the separatists. Thus the emi- 
 grants were attracted to Holland, "where, they 
 heard, was freedom of religion for all men." 
 
 Next morning the women and children were 
 arraigned before the blustering but good-natured 
 old magistrate. He asked of what crime they 
 were accused. Their only offence was that they 
 would not part from their husbands and fathers. 
 
 "I can see no crime in that," cried the magis- 
 trate. "By the mass! they deserve commenda- 
 tion for it. Send them to their homes." 
 
 ' "We have no homes to go to," said a worthy 
 matron of forty. 
 
 "In truth, they have not," affirmed the execu- 
 tive officer who had made the arrest. "Their 
 protectors and husbands have gone to Holland." 
 
 The magistrates found that they had a burden 
 on their hands which they were glad to get rid of 
 on any terms, and the women and children were 
 sent to join the Pilgrims at Holland. 
 
 There was one who did not get off so easily. The 
 handsome young Mathew was still in durance vile. 
 His case was more serions, for he had resisted 
 the officers of the king with force and arms. 
 Many a man had been hung for a less offence. 
 In his rude prison Mathew lingered, cheerful and 
 
22 
 
 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 unmoved by the awful doom witli whicTi he was 
 threatened. It would have been hard to have 
 determined Mathew's exact 
 ' ~ ~^ ' age. He might be twenty, 
 
 and he might be twenty-five. 
 His handsome face was de- 
 cidedly youthful; but he 
 had the courage and judg- 
 ment of one of matui'e 
 years. Though reared by 
 Mr. John Eobinson in the 
 Puritanical faith, he was by 
 no means Puritanical in ac- 
 tion. He was impulsive, 
 fiery, and daring as we have 
 seen. He was a person to 
 delight the romancer and 
 poet. His heroic eye kin- 
 dled more readily at the 
 trump of battle than with 
 the religious enthusiasm of 
 a Pilgrim. He was more 
 of a knight of the Middle 
 Ages, than a soldier of the, 
 Cross. Four days of con- 
 finement in his impromptu 
 prison failed to depress his spirits. 
 
 The fifth day since his arrest was closing dark 
 
 ' Do YOU WANT YOUR 
 LIBERTY?" 
 
THE CAPTURE AND ESCAPE. 23 
 
 and stormy. The wild wind swept across the 
 rainy sky and beat the tempest against his miser- 
 able prison. It was not yet dark, when, from his 
 narrow grated window, by which he had been tied, 
 he espied a face looking at him. It was the 
 sweet, childish face of a little maid of ten or 
 twelve years. She gazed at him for a short time, 
 her great blue eyes expressing the sympathy she 
 felt for the captive, and then she asked: 
 
 "How do you do?" 
 
 "Badly enough, little maid," answered the 
 young soldier. "I am deprived the liberty of my 
 limbs, and they ache for the lack of exercise." 
 
 "Do you want your liberty?" 
 
 "Nothing would give me more pleasure; but 
 you cannot set me free." 
 
 "That I can," returned the little girl, with a 
 smile on her pretty face. 
 
 "Pry thee, how will you go about it, seeing I 
 am tied and the door is guarded?" 
 
 She smiled, drew a bench under the window, 
 mounted it, and, placing her lips close to the iron 
 bars, whispered: 
 
 "Peace, be still! Your guard is now at the 
 ale-house across the way, drinking and making 
 merry. The door is fastened by an iron bar on 
 the outside, and while he enjoys his. wine and 
 song, I will give you your liberty." 
 
24 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 "Remember, sweet maid, I am tied hand and 
 foot." 
 
 "I have that which will release thee," she an- 
 swered, holding up to his gaze a bright-bladed 
 knife. 
 
 Mathew nodded assent, and the face disappeared 
 from the window. Such a long time elapsed, that 
 he began to fear she had failed to open the door, 
 when he heard a slight noise without. His heart 
 beat high with hope. The great door softly 
 opened, and a slender figure glided forward into 
 the room. 
 
 "Don't speak," said the child, "I know all. I 
 heard that you were confined here, and my mother 
 sympathize.'? with the Puritans. I came to release 
 you." 
 
 Her nimble fingers, aided by the keen knife, 
 soon loosed the cords. He might thank his little 
 deliverer that she had come before he was removed 
 to a more substantial prison, where these cords 
 would have been supplanted with irons that would 
 have defied her feeble strength and skill. In a 
 moment he was free, and, turning to his small 
 rescuer, he asked: 
 
 "What is your name, sweet maid? I would 
 know whom I have to thank for this deliverance." 
 
 " I am Alice White, and I live with my mother 
 in the village." 
 
THE CAPTURE AND ESCAPE. 35 
 
 "Grod bless yoii, Alice! I trust that I may 
 some day be able to repay you for the great ser- 
 vice you have rendered me." 
 
 He stooped, imprinted a kiss on the pretty 
 young cheek and hurried away into the darkness, 
 while his guard made merry in the tap-room. Dis- 
 guising himself, he hurried across the country and 
 took passage for Holland, where he joined the Pil- 
 grims who had gone before him. 
 
CHAETEE II. 
 
 MATHEW AND HANS. 
 
 When the breezes are soft and the skies are fair, 
 I steal an hour from study and care, 
 And hie me away to the woodland scene. 
 Where wanders the stream with its waters of green ; 
 As if the bright fringe of the herbs on its brink, 
 Had given their stain to the wave they drink ; 
 And they whose meadows it murmurs through, 
 Have named the stream from its own fair hue. 
 
 — Bryant. 
 
 On a certain afternoon, in Holland, about the 
 year 1617, the wind was blowing freshly, driving 
 sundry black clouds across the slate-colored sky. 
 The heavens were dreary to look upon; the rocky 
 and sandy coast, with its great dikes, offered no 
 pleasing prospect, and the ocean, spreading away 
 to the farthest limit of the vision, seemed a mass 
 of foam. 
 
 On this cheerless shore stood a small hut, which 
 appeared to be the residence of a fisherman, if 
 one might judge from the nets and ropes lying on 
 the sand, or hung upon the rocks along the dike. 
 The building was constructed of round stones, 
 
 36 
 
MATHEW AND HANS. 27 
 
 rather peculiar in appearance, the stones being 
 dark and the mortar that held them together of 
 glaring whiteness. There was nothing in its archi- 
 tecture calling for particular notice, except it might 
 be a pile of stones resting on the roof, which was 
 no doubt intended to be used as a chimney. The 
 hut had one or two small windows and one large 
 door. Wooden shutters hung before the windows. 
 One was closed, keeping out the light and air, 
 while the other was propped up by a stick, so 
 that whoever was in the dwelling might enjoy a 
 view of the lively ocean. The position of the 
 little hotise was near the sea, with some sand and 
 plenty of sea-weed lying between. Piles of rocks 
 jutted boldly out into the water at a little distance, 
 increasing the wildness of the scene. Back of the 
 hut were some trees, which in the springtime of 
 their existence did their best to grow, but, receiv- 
 ing no encouragement, soon gave up the thought of 
 ever becoming noble or lofty, and were content to 
 undergo the heats of summer and the rigors of 
 winter in their stunted and ugly shapes. Without 
 the hut was a rude bench fastened to the wall, where 
 one might sit and gaze upon the ocean whose hol- 
 low roar could be distinctly heard at the hut. 
 
 One who knew anything of the Hollanders two 
 centuries ago, need not be told that this was the 
 home of a Dutchman. 
 
28 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 Two young men were coming leisurely along the 
 strand whicli stretched away between the sea and 
 the house. One was a Hollander. Though scarce 
 four and twenty years of age, his short stature, 
 strong frame, and general characteristics, marked 
 him as a native of the Netherlands. His compan- 
 ion's nationality was not so easily determined. In 
 costume he was a Pilgrim; but he had not the 
 features of an Englishman. His cheek was almost 
 swarthy, and the silken down which appeared on 
 his upper lip was jet black. He had the bold air 
 of a knight of mediaeval times, and was just such a 
 figure as attract romantically inclined people. 
 
 The hut toward which they were making their 
 way was the home of the young Hollander. They 
 were talking in the language of the Netherlands, 
 which both spoke fluently. 
 
 "Come, Mathew; let us sit on the bench and 
 rest," suggested the young Dutchman, who carried 
 a broken net on his shoulder. "You have two 
 good hours before setting out for Ley den." 
 
 The young man addressed as Mathew was the 
 same daring youth captured on the lonely heath in 
 Lincolnshire while defending the Puritan women 
 and children in 1608. Though almost nine years 
 had elapsed there was little change in him. He 
 did not look a day older than at the time of his 
 arrest. His stately form was tireless, and his 
 
MATHEW AND HANS. 3? 
 
 dark eye flashed with the fire of a soldier. More 
 to please his friend than from any desire to rest, he 
 accepted the invitation to sit on the bench in front 
 of the hut, and for a long time they sat silently 
 listening to the sullen roar of the distant sea. The 
 young Hollander, whose name was Hans Van 
 Brunt, was the first to break the silence. When 
 he spoke it was with the freedom of a near and 
 dear friend. 
 
 " So, Mathew, you Puritans are going away from 
 Leyden. You do seem hard to please. First you 
 come from England to Amsterdam, and after a 
 short sojourn remove to Leyden; now your pastor 
 and elders contemplate removing to America." 
 
 "They will go if they can, Hans." 
 
 "Will they go as English or Dutch emigrants?" 
 
 "English." 
 
 "Wherefore as English, seeing that you were 
 banished from your native land?" 
 
 With a shake of his head, Mathew solemnly 
 answered : 
 
 " The love of country is too deeply planted in 
 the Englishman's heart to be easily effaced. True, 
 our king and the bishops have ill-used us; never- 
 theless, we cannot forget that we are Englishmen." 
 
 Hans gazed at his companion for a moment, 
 then, with his elbows resting on his knees, gazed 
 on the ground. Hans was a characteristic Hoi- 
 
80 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 lander, sturdy, honest, thoughtfu], good-natured, 
 slow. Though brave as a lion, he never quarrelled ; 
 for him there was never occasion for quarrel. His 
 blonde hair, blue eyes, and ruddy cheeks were quite 
 in contrast with the dark-brown hair and eyes of 
 his companion. Hans was thinking, and he 
 thought slowly. After about five minutes, the 
 brief argument which he had been evolving in his 
 mind was ready for expression, and he said: 
 
 " We have a goodly country on the great river 
 discovered by the Englishman, Hudson. Our 
 West India Company would be glad to send you 
 there, wherefore do you not go?" 
 
 With a sigh, Mathew answered: 
 
 " We are Englishmen, and love of country can- 
 not be crushed from our hearts." 
 
 After another silence of five minutes, during 
 which time Hans with his characteristic slowness 
 was arranging his argument, he asked: 
 
 " Why should you go ? You are no Englishman ! " 
 
 Mathew turned quickly on his companion to see 
 if he was jesting. No; Hans was in earnest. 
 Gravely he repeated, "No, you are no English- 
 man." 
 
 " How do you know?" asked Mathew. 
 
 "I have heard your story told by one who 
 knows." 
 
 "Mr. Eobinson?" 
 
MATHEW AND HANS. 31 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " I have always been taught to regard him as a 
 relative, and he has been all to me that a father 
 could." 
 
 "Yet not a drop of the same blood courses in 
 your veins; you are of another nation. You are 
 a Spaniard." 
 
 Mathew Stevens started from the bench, walked 
 a short distance and, returning, resumed his seat. 
 He had heard vague hints of this before, so he was 
 not taken wholly by surprise. Mr. Eobinson had 
 never told him the story of his life. Mathew had 
 lived in careless ease, with an occasional period of 
 excitement; but as yet he had given little thought 
 to either the past or the future. 
 
 "No; you are not an Englishman, but a Span- 
 iard," continued Hans with his characteristic slow- 
 ness. " Why not live in Holland, take you a wife 
 among the maidens of Leyden or Amsterdam and 
 go with us to the New Netherland?" 
 
 "Are you going, Hans?" asked Mathew. 
 
 "Certainly, I shall. I don't want to leave 
 Katharine; yet we are poor, and there is a great 
 future for young people in the new world. I sup- 
 pose I shall go first, build us a home, and then 
 send for her." 
 
 The young Dutchman took as much delight in 
 talking of his plans for the future, as a school-girl 
 
32 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 does of her first lover. Hans would have gone on 
 for hours sounding the praises of Katharine; but 
 Mathew was in no mood to listen to him. Some 
 of the young fellow's remarks had set him think- 
 ing of himself, and when Hans sought to win back 
 his interest by changing the subject to Honora Van 
 Twiller, who had smiled on Mathew, he failed. 
 
 When the hour for his departure came, he 
 declined the mug of wine which Hans' mother 
 offered him, and hastened away to Leyden. 
 
 The pastor of the Pilgrims, Mr. John Eobinson, 
 was in his study that evening when Mathew en- 
 tered. Mr. Eobinson raised his mild eyes from 
 the sacred volume over which he was poring and 
 fixed them on the troubled face of the young man. 
 
 "I have had a rumor confirmed to-day," said 
 Mathew. 
 
 "Pray what is it?" 
 
 "That the same blood does not flow in our 
 veins; that I am not an Englishman, but a 
 Spaniard. Is it true?" 
 
 For a moment silence pervaded the room, and 
 then Mr. Robinson, in his deep impressive voice, 
 said: 
 
 "It is true." 
 
 "Why have you not told me before?" 
 
 "For the reason that I knew nothing to tell. 
 That you are of Spanish birth I have good reason to 
 
MATHEW AND HANS. 33 
 
 believe. That there is nothing in your parentage 
 "which should cause you to blush, I am assured, 
 and yet I have no positive knowledge of anything." 
 
 "Will you tell me what you knov\r of my 
 history?" 
 
 " At some time, but not now, for there are other 
 matters which I wish to discuss with you. Our 
 people realize that they are pilgrims, sojourning in 
 the land of strangers. We can never again regard 
 England as an abiding place, yet we cannot become 
 other than Englishmen. Oar children are being 
 gradually weaned from the course in which we 
 would have them trained. We have this day 
 decided to send John Carver and Robert Oushman 
 to treat with the Virginia Company for planting a 
 colony of Pilgrims within their domain." 
 
 "When do they start?" 
 
 " Day after to-morrow. " 
 
 "I would go with them." 
 
 "Would you dare return to England?" 
 
 "Why should I not?" 
 
 "Your capture, your escape?" 
 
 " Among the ten thousand other events which 
 have transpired since then, it is surely forgotten." 
 
 "Do you wish to go?" 
 
 "I do; I also want to become one of the first 
 emigrants to the New World." 
 
 "You shall." 
 
34 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 Arrangements were consequently made for 
 Mathew to accompany tlie two agents of the Pil- 
 grims to confer with the Virginia Company. 
 
 It will lead to a better understanding of our 
 story, at this point, to notice some of the general 
 events transpiring in the new world. The career 
 of maritime discovery had been pursued with 
 intrepidity and rewarded with success. The voy- 
 ages of Gosnold, Waymouth, Smith, and Hudson; 
 the enterprise of Ealeigh, Delaware, and Gorges; 
 the compilations of Eden, Willes, and Hakluyt had 
 filled the commercial world with wonder. Calvin- 
 ists of the French Church had vainly sought to 
 plant themselves in Brazil, in Carolina, and with 
 De Montes in Acadia; while weighty reasons, often 
 and seriously discussed, inclined the Pilgrims to 
 change their abode. They had been bred to pur- 
 suits of husbandry, and in Holland they were com- 
 pelled to learn mechanical trades. Brewster became 
 a teacher of English and a printer. Bradford, who 
 had been brought up a farmer, learned the art of 
 silk-dyeing. The language never became pleas- 
 antly familiar; in fact, but few ever learned to 
 speak it, and the manners and customs of the 
 Dutch were not entirely congenial to their strict 
 Puritanic ideas of morality. The Pilgrims lived as 
 men in exile. Many of their English "friends 
 and relatives would not come to them, or departed 
 
MATHEW AND HANS. 35 
 
 from them weeping." "Their continual labors 
 with other crosses and sorrows, left them in danger 
 to scatter and sink." "Their children, sharing 
 their burdens, bowed under the weight, and were 
 becoming decrepit in early youth." Conscious of 
 ability to act a higher part in the great drama of 
 humanity, they were moved by "a hope and 
 inward zeal of advancing the gospel of the king- 
 dom of Christ in the remote parts of the New 
 World; yea, though they should be but as 
 stepping stones unto others for performing so great 
 a work." 
 
 The proprietors for the patent of North Vir- 
 ginia, Lord Chief-Justice Popham, Sir Ferdinand 
 Gorges and others (sometimes called the Plymouth 
 Company, as those of the south were called the 
 London Company), in 1608 attempted a settle- 
 ment at the North which utterly failed. These 
 men, after a few unsuccessful efforts, gave up all 
 thought of planting any colony in their dominions. 
 
 In the year 1614, Captain John Smith, the 
 founder of Jamestown and the father of Virginia, 
 sailed along the coast in company with Captain 
 Thomas Hunt, who commanded one of the vessels. 
 Hunt was more of a pirate than an explorer, and, 
 in opposition to Smith's express commands, kid- 
 napped a number of the Indians, took them to 
 Europe and sold them as slaves. It was on this 
 
36 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 voyage that Captain Smith first named that portion 
 of North America New England, which name it 
 bears to this day. In the year 1617, when the 
 Pilgrims first set on foot the plan for removal to 
 America, a great plague visited New England, and 
 swept away thousands upon thousands of natives, 
 as if the way were being prepared to plant the doc- 
 trine of liberty in the New World. 
 
 Upon their talk of removal, many persons of 
 note among the Dutch sought to have them emigrate 
 under them, and made them some splendid propo- 
 sitions; but the Pilgrims were attached to their 
 nationality as Englishmen, and to the language of 
 their line. A secret, but deeply seated love of 
 country led them to the generous purpose of recov- 
 ering the protection of England by enlarging her 
 dominions, and a consciousness of their worth 
 cheered them on to make a settlement of their own. 
 They were restless with a desire to live once more 
 under the government of their native land. 
 
 Whither should they go to acquire a province 
 under King James? The fertility and wealth of 
 Guiana had been painted in dazzling colors by 
 Ealeigh; but the terrors of a tropical climate, the 
 wavering pretensions of England, the soil, and the 
 proximity of the bigoted Catholics, led them to 
 look toward "the most northern parts of Virginia, 
 hoping, under the general government of that 
 
MATHEW AND HANS. 31 
 
 province," to live in a distinct body to themselves. 
 To obtain the consent of the London Company, 
 Mr. John Carver and Mr. Eobert Oushman had 
 been chosen, as Mr. Eobinson stated, to go to 
 England. 
 
 Mathew Stevens went with Carver and Cushman 
 to England. They took with them seven articles 
 from the members of the Church at Leyden, to 
 submit to the council in England for Virginia. 
 The articles discussed the relations .which the Pil- 
 grims bore to their prince ; and they adopted the 
 theory which the admonitions of Luther and a cen- 
 tury of persecution had developed as the common 
 rule of plebeian secretaries on the continent of 
 Europe. They expressed their concurrence in the 
 creed of the Anglican Church, and a desire of 
 spiritual communion with its members. Toward 
 the king and all civil authority derived from him, 
 including bishops, whose civil authority they alone 
 recognized, they promised, as they would have 
 done to Nero and the Eoman pontifex, " obedience 
 in all things, active if the thing commanded be 
 not against God's word, or passive if it be." They 
 denied all power to ecclesiastical bodies, unless it 
 were by the temporal magistrate. They pledged 
 themselves to honor their superiors, and to preserve 
 unity of spirit in peace with all men. 
 
 "Divers select gentlemen of the council for 
 
38 THE PILGBIM8. 
 
 Virginia were well satisfied with their statement, 
 and resolved to set forward their desire." The 
 London Company listened very willingly to their 
 proposal, so that the agents found "God going 
 along with them" and, through the influence of 
 "Sir Edwin Sandys, a religious gentleman then 
 living, a patent might at once have been taken, 
 had not the envoys desired to consult with their 
 friends at Leyden." 
 
 It was the ^fteenth of December, 1617, before 
 the Pilgrims transmitted their formal request, 
 signed by the hands of the greater part of the con- 
 gregation. "We are well weaned," added Mr. 
 Eobinson and Brewster, "from the delicate milk 
 of our mother country, and inured to the difficul- 
 ties of a strange land. The people are industrious 
 and frugal. We are knit together as a body in a 
 most sacred covenant of the Lord, of the violation 
 whereof we make great conscience, and by virtue, 
 whereof we hold ourselves straitly tied to all care 
 of each other's good, and of the whole. It is not 
 with us as with men whom small things can 
 discourage." 
 
 The messengers of the Pilgrims, satisfied with 
 their reception by the Virginia Company, petitioned 
 the king for liberty of religion, to be confirmed 
 under the king's broad seal; but here they encoun- 
 tered insurmountable difficulties. Lord Bacon, of 
 
MATHEW AND HANS. 39 
 
 all men at that time, had given most attention to 
 colonial enterprises. The great master of specula- 
 tive wisdom should have inculcated freedom of con- 
 science; but for that, he knew too little of religion. 
 He believed that the established church, which he 
 cherished as the eye of England, was not without 
 blemish; that the wrongs of the Puritans could 
 neither be dissembled nor excused ; that the silenc- 
 ing of ministers, for the sake of enforcing cere- 
 monies, was, in the scarcity of good preachers, a 
 punishment that lighted on the people, and he 
 esteemed controversy "the wind by which truth is 
 winnowed." 
 
 Bacon, however, was formed for meditation not 
 for action. His will was feeble, and, having no 
 power of resistance, and yet an incessant yearning 
 for distinction and display, he became a craven 
 courtier and an intolerant and corrupt statesman. 
 ■ "Discipline by bishops," said he, "is fitted for 
 monarchy of all others. The tenets of separatists 
 and sectaries are full of schism, inconsistent with 
 monarchy. The king will beware of Anabaptists, 
 Brownists, and others of their kinds; a little con- 
 nivency sets them on iire. For the discipline of the 
 •church in colonies, it will be necessary that it agree 
 with that which is settled in England, else it will 
 make a schism and a rent in Christ's coat, which 
 must be seamless, and, to that purpose, it will be 
 
40 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 fit that the king's supreme power in causes eccle- 
 siastical, within all his dominions, be subordinate 
 under some bishop and his bishoprick of this realm. 
 This caution is to be observed, that if any trans- 
 plant themselves into plantations abroad, who are 
 known as schismatics, outlaws, or criminal persons, 
 they be sent for back upon the first notice." 
 
 These views were, of course, detrimental to the 
 ideas of the Pilgrims, and the ambassadors began 
 to despair. The maxims prevailed at the coun- 
 cil-board, when the envoys from the independent 
 church at Leyden preferred their request. 
 
 "Who shall make your ministers?" was asked 
 of them, to which Carver answered: 
 
 " The power of making them is in the Church." 
 
 His avowal of the principle, that ordination 
 requires no bishop threatened to spoil all. To 
 advance the dominions of England, King James 
 esteemed "a good and honest motion, and fishing 
 was an honest trade, the apostle's own calling;" 
 yet he referred the suit to the prelate of Canterbury 
 and London. Even while negotiations were pend- 
 ing, a royal declaration constrained the Puritans of 
 Lancashire to conform or leave the realm, and 
 nothing more could be obtained for the wilds of 
 America than an informal neglect. On this the 
 community relied, being advised not to entangle 
 themselves with the bishops. 
 
MATHEW AND HANS. 41 
 
 "If there should afterward be a purpose to 
 wrong us," thej argued, "though we had a seal as 
 broad as a barn floor, there would be means enough 
 found to recall it or reverse it. We must rest 
 herein on God's providence." 
 
 It was on the second visit of the envoys to 
 England, in 1618, thatMathew Stevens met with a 
 singular, and what at first threatened to be a dan- 
 gerous adventure, yet it had a happy ending. One 
 afternoon, while walking about the streets of Lon- 
 don, he came face to face with a man, who paused 
 directly before him, and, placing his hands on his 
 hips, gave him an impudent stare. The stranger 
 was by no means prepossessing. His head was 
 bullet shaped, his face round and bloated, his 
 small eyes grayish and wicked. His short beard 
 was slightly flecked with grey. He was attired in 
 the habiliments of a mechanic, and though he was 
 a total stranger, there seemed to be something 
 about him that was familiar. 
 
 For a moment he fixed his eyes on the young 
 man, and then, in a coarse, brutal voice, exclaimed: 
 
 "Ho! youngster, we meet again. By the mass! 
 ten years have made no change in ye." 
 
 "Away! I never knew you," cried Mathew. 
 
 " Ten yearg is too short a time to efEace from 
 my recollection a certain little affair with which ye 
 were connected." 
 
43 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 "You mistake. I repeat, I never knew you!" 
 
 "I can refresh yer memory. Do ye remember 
 the dark night on the heath in Lincolnshire, when 
 the Pilgrims departed for Holland?" 
 
 Mathew started, and his cheeks flushed. 
 
 "Aha! ye do remember, I see. I was one of 
 the king's horse on that night. I it -was, who 
 was appointed to guard ye, and while draining a 
 glass at the tap-room, thinking ye secure, by some 
 means ye made yer escape; then I, Francis Billing- 
 ton, did fare badly. I was sent to prison for neglect, 
 of duty, and lost my place in the king's horse." 
 
 Billington had a fiendish grin on his face, and 
 his eyes blazed with the hatred of a demon. 
 "Know ye the vow I made?" asked the ex- 
 dragoon. "I swore that should I ever find ye 
 again, I would seize ye and drag ye before the 
 magistrate, that ye might suffer as ye caused me." 
 With this he took a step toward Mathew. 
 
 "Away!" cried Mathew. " You are no ofiicer, 
 and I will not submit to an arrest." 
 
 Billington made a bound at the young man, and 
 attempted to seize him by the throat. He was 
 met by a blow in the face which staggered him, 
 and before he could sufficiently recover to call the 
 watch, Mathew Stevens darted a^yay, and was 
 hurrying from street to street, and alley to alley to 
 bury himself in the great city. 
 
MATHEW AND HANS. 43 
 
 As evening came, he found himself in the 
 suburbs of London, to-day known as West End. 
 The West End of two hundred and fifty years ago 
 was far from being the West End of to-day. 
 Hurrying along a lane, he espied a light in a cot- 
 tage. The cottage was cozy and homelike in 
 appearance, and appealed to his tastes, so he deter- 
 mined to apply for shelter. To his timid knock 
 there came a light footstep, and the door opened. 
 He entered and, by the light of the wax candle, 
 found himself in a small but neatly furnished 
 room. He saw not the room, nor the surround- 
 ings, for the face of the maiden who held the candle 
 absorbed all his attention. A flood of recollection, 
 mingled with the bright dreams of the last ten 
 years swept over him. Ten years had changed him 
 but little. Ten years had transferred the child 
 rescuer to a most lovely woman. It was the same 
 sweet, pretty face, but matured to beautiful and 
 glorious womanhood. After a moment of bewil- 
 derment, he gasped: 
 
 "Alice!" 
 
 " I know you," she answered. " I have not for- 
 gotten you." 
 
 "And I would be guilty of the basest ingrati- 
 tude, did I ever forget you," he returned. 
 
 In a few moments they were seated before the 
 cheerful peat fire, pleasantly conversing of the 
 
44 
 
 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 past. MatHew learned that Alice was the only 
 child of a widow, Sarah White. He lingered 
 several days at the widow's cottage, unable to tear 
 himself away. The envoys had long since returned 
 
 ~^- 
 
 
 Thby were seated before the cheerful peat fire. 
 
 to Holland, and when he finally took his leave for 
 Leyden, the face of Alice was so firmly engraven 
 on his heart that time could never efface it. 
 Mathew Stevens was in love. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE MAYFLOWER. 
 
 The grand old ship, so staunch and true, 
 One autumn day with breezes free. 
 Sailed on and on, sailed out to sea, 
 
 Mid dancing waves and skies of blue ; 
 
 And fair as diamonds kissed with dew. 
 
 Shone sparkling eyes of lovely hue. 
 
 — Waedee. 
 
 "It is always darkest before dawn." Often 
 when on the verge of despair, when all hope is 
 abandoned, relief comes from an unexpected quar- 
 ter, and the poor, disheartened pilgrim on earth is 
 elevated to joy almost supreme. If, at the close 
 of 1618, it seemed impossible for the Pilgrims 
 ever to make terms with their countrymen for 
 establishing a colony in the New World, a year 
 later found the obstacles to the enterprise rapilly 
 rolling away. Sir Edwin Sandys, a stanch friend, 
 had been elected treasurer of the London Company. 
 Under him, so writes one of their number, the 
 members of the company in open court " demanded 
 our ends of going; which, being related, they 
 
 45 
 
46 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 said the thing was of God, and granted a large 
 patent." As the patent was taken in the name 
 of one who failed to accompany the expedition, it 
 was never of any service; and, besides, the Pil- 
 grims, after investing all their own means, had not 
 sufficient capital to execute their schemes. 
 
 It seemed as if, after all, their plans must fall 
 through. In this dire extremity, Mr. Eobinson 
 began to look for aid to the Dutch. He and his 
 people and their friends, to the number of four 
 hundred families, professed themselves inclined to 
 emigrate to the country on the Hudson and to 
 plant a new commonwealth under the command of 
 the Stadholder and the States-general. The West 
 India Company was willing to transport them with- 
 out charge, and to furnish them with cattle, if 
 "that people would go under them." The direc- 
 tors petitioned the States-general to promise protec- 
 tion to the enterprise against all violence from other 
 potentates; but such a promise was contrary to 
 the policy of the Dutch government and was 
 refused. 
 
 The members of the church at Leyden were not 
 shaken in their purpose of removing to America, 
 and, ceasing "to meddle with the Dutch, or to 
 depend too much on the Virginia Company," they 
 trusted to their own resources and the aid of pri- 
 vate friends. The fisheries had commended Ameri - 
 
THE MAYFLOWER. 47 
 
 can expeditions to Englisli merchants; and the 
 agents from Leyden were able to form a partner- 
 ship between their employers and men of business 
 in London. The services of each emigrant were 
 rated as a capital of ten pounds, and belonged to 
 the company. All profits were to be reserved till 
 the end of seven years, when the whole amount 
 and all houses and lands, gardens and fields were to 
 be divided among the share-holders according to 
 their respective interests. The London merchant, 
 who risked one hundred pounds, would receive for 
 his money tenfold more than the penniless laborer 
 for his services. This arrangement was a seven 
 years' check to the pecuniary prosperity of the com- 
 munity; yet, as it did not interfere with their civil 
 rights or religion, it did not intimidate them. 
 Meanwhile, the noblemen and gentlemen engaged 
 before in the old patent for North Virginia were 
 seeking a new and separate patent of incorporation 
 for New England, under the style and title of the 
 council established at Plymouth, in the county of 
 Devon, for the planting, ruling or ordering and 
 governing of New England in America, which be- 
 came the civil basis of all future patents and plan- 
 tations that divided that country. This patent they 
 at last obtained from King James; but it was not 
 signed by the king until long after the Pilgrims 
 had set sail, not, indeed, until November 3d, 1620, 
 
48 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 just before the Mayflower ancliored in Cape Cod 
 harbor. Thus the Pilgrims were landed in New 
 England unchartered by any earthly power, and 
 took possession at Plymouth of their desired retreat 
 in the wilderness, in full liberty of conscience, 
 unpatented and unfettered. 
 
 It was the evening before the departure from 
 Leyden. Mr. Eobinson was in his study with 
 Mathew Stevens. It had been decided that Mr. 
 Brewster, the ruling elder, should go with the emi- 
 grating Pilgrims, and Mr. Eobinson, the pastor, 
 was to remain at Leyden with the congregation. 
 Mathew Stevens had decided to go with the first, 
 and begin building a home which he hoped to 
 share with Alice White. 
 
 "I go to-morrow to brave the dangers of the 
 ocean and unknown perils of the wilderness," said 
 Stevens to Mr. Eobinson. "Perchance we may 
 never meet again, and I beseech you to tell me 
 now the story of my life." 
 
 "I have detained you, Mathew, to narrate as 
 much of it as I know." 
 
 The young Puritan was all attention, and the 
 pastor began: 
 
 "It was early in the year, 1587, that I chanced 
 to be in Plymouth. Sir Francis Drake had just 
 returned from the West Indies from one of his 
 piratical expeditions. It had been one of his most 
 
THE MAYFLOWER. 49 
 
 brilliant voyages. He had sacked towns and hum- 
 bled a nation by 'singeing the beard of the Spanish 
 king,' that is, burning the royal fleet in their own 
 harbor. He had ravaged the West Indies and 
 sailed up the coast of Florida, reducing every 
 Spanish fort he could find. Among the cities 
 destroyed was St. Augustine, founded by Melen- 
 dez fifty-five years before. From one who had 
 been on board the admiral's ship, I learned that he 
 had brought two little boys from St. Augustine. 
 From their dress and manner it was supposed that 
 they were children of respectable parents. I be- 
 came so interested in them that one day I went to 
 see them. The oldest was a bright'little fellow, 
 not over five or six years of age, but with the 
 intelligence of one twice as old. He could only 
 converse in Spanish and we had a very poor inter- 
 preter. I learned, however, that his father's name 
 was Francisco Estevan, that his mother's name was 
 Hortense, and that the parents were temporarily 
 from home when Drake attacked the town. The 
 boy, Philip Estevan, was your brother. Mattheo 
 Estevan (Mathew Stevens in English) was yourself. 
 "Drake was anxious to dispose of the children, 
 as well as an old chest taken at their house, which 
 contained a manuscript written evidently by your 
 father, which seemed to be a sort of an autobi- 
 ography. For any one who would pay the passage 
 4 
 
50 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 of the boys, and ten pounds for the old chest, 
 Drake agreed to turn over the children. I lacked, 
 a few pounds of having the required amount, and 
 went to London to borrow some from some friends. 
 When I returned, Philip, your brother, had been 
 taken away by a man named Henry Francis. 
 Though I made many inquiries for him, I only 
 learned that he sailed away in a vessel to some 
 part of the New World. I paid the price of your 
 voyage, gave ten pounds for the old chest and con- 
 tents, and took you to live with me. The old chest 
 and the strange Spanish manuscript, I sent on 
 board the Speedwell. They may, I trust, prove the 
 key for unlocking your past." 
 
 "Do you know no more?" asked Mathew. 
 
 "Nothing. I have endeavored to learn all I 
 could, but have been unable to find out anything 
 more. I have ever endeavored to iill the place of 
 the father you lost." 
 
 "And you have," Mathew quickly answered. 
 
 Next day was the memorable 21st of July, 1620, 
 the day on which the English voyagers left Ley- 
 den, where they had lived for nearly twelve years, 
 and were accompanied by their brethren to Delph- 
 haven where their ship lay ready to sail. Many of 
 their friends came from Leyden and Amsterdam to 
 take a last farewell of the departing emigrants. 
 Among others came Hans Van Brunt, accompanied 
 
THE MAYFLOWER. 51 
 
 by his "peerless Katharine," to bid a last adieu to 
 his friend Mathew Stevens and assure him that he 
 would soon be able to join him and the other Pil- 
 grims in the New World. Next day, July 22d, 
 1620, the wind was fair, and the Pilgrims went 
 aboard, accompanied by a great number of their 
 friends. Mathew Stevens did not leave Holland 
 without some regrets. It had proved an asylum 
 for himself and his friends when persecutions forced 
 them, to abandon their own country. His foster 
 father, Mr. Eobinson, embraced him and with tears 
 said: 
 
 "My son, I commend you to God; ever trust 
 him in your darkest hours." 
 
 Before leaving the ship, Mr. Eobinson kneeled 
 upon the deck, and offered up a most fervent 
 prayer, which the most skeptical could hardly 
 claim did not reach the throne of grace. Then the 
 good pastor, as if anticipating their high destiny 
 and the sublime lessons of liberty which would 
 grow out of their religious tenets, gave them a 
 farewell, breathing a freedom of opinion and an 
 independence of authority such as to them were 
 hardly known in the world. 
 
 "I charge you, before God and his blessed 
 angels, that you follow me no further than you see 
 me follow the Lord Jesus Christ. The lord has 
 more truth yet to break forth of his holy word. I 
 
53 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 cannot sufficiently bewail the condition of the re- 
 formed churches, who are come to a period in 
 religion, and will go at present no further than the 
 instruments of their reformation. Luther and Cal- 
 vin were great and shining lights in their times; 
 yet they penetrated not into the whole counsel of 
 God. I beseech you, remember it — 'tis an article 
 of your church covenant, that you be readj' to 
 receive whatever truth shall be made known to 
 you from the written word of God." 
 
 A prosperous gale was blowing and the master 
 of the ship was anxious to sail. Mr. Eobinson 
 and those designed to remain took a last farewell 
 of the emigrants and went on shore. Before leav- 
 ing the ship, he once more clasped Mathew's hand 
 and murmured a fervent "God bless you!" 
 
 With a fair breeze they reached Southampton. 
 Mr. Eeinolds, the master of the Speedwell, said 
 that the ship was leaking and that he doubted if 
 she would be able to cross the Atlantic; but 
 others urged that she could make the voyage. At 
 Southampton, they found the Mayflower from 
 London, Mr. Jones master, with the remainder of 
 the company, who had been waiting there with Mr. 
 Cushman for seven days. All was bustle, confu- 
 sion and eagerness to sail. The excitement and 
 adventure promised in pushing out into new and 
 unexplored regions thrilled and electrified the emi- 
 
THE MAYFLOWER. 53 
 
 grant. New scenes, new hopes and aspirations, 
 with unknown and untried possibilities, lent a sort 
 of speculative enchantment to the very idea of 
 emigration. Seven hundred pounds sterling were 
 invested at Southampton for tools, farming imple- 
 ments, arms and ammunition, and they had seven- 
 teen hundred pounds to carry with them. Mr. 
 "Weston came from London to see them well on 
 their voyage. 
 
 Mathew Stevens hurried on board the May- 
 flower, hoping to find Alice White aboard the 
 ship. Mrs. "White was a Puritan, and had ex- 
 pressed her intention to go to the New World. 
 Whether she intended going with the first that 
 sailed, or waiting until a settlement had been 
 established, Mathew was not certain. Eeaching 
 the deck of the Mayflower, Mathew was hurrying 
 to the after part of the ship, when he suddenly 
 encountered a person v^ho caused him to start 
 back in alarm. That bullet head, those small, 
 mischievous eyes and round, bloated face covered 
 with stubby beard, he could never forget. It was 
 Francis Billington, his former captor and jailer. 
 The malignant grin on his evil face revealed his 
 ugly teeth, blackened with tobacco smoke and 
 neglect. 
 
 "Well, comrade, are we bound on the same 
 voyage?" Billington asked, after the momentary 
 
54 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 surprise at the first meeting had somewhat sub- 
 sided. 
 
 "Why are you here?" asked the astounded 
 Mathew. 
 
 "Have no fear, mate; have no fear. True, ye 
 handled me rather roughly in London; but I for- 
 give ye, seeing we are to be comrades in adven- 
 turing into the New World." 
 
 "Are you going to America?" 
 
 "Right ye are, if ye say as much. Let us bury 
 all differences and be friends." 
 
 As he spoke, Billington advanced, with one 
 dirty, bloated hand outstretched, as if to make 
 peace with his enemy. 
 
 "No! no! I never knew you," cried Mathew, 
 placing his hands behind his back. "You are 
 not a Pilgrim, but one of our persecutors, and you 
 have no right on board." 
 
 " Wherefore would ye deny me the privilege of 
 visiting that goodly country?" 
 
 Mathew did not care to hold a conversation with 
 him and, turning abruptly around, walked to the 
 foremost part of the ship, where he found Mr. 
 Cushman with Mr. Weston. 
 
 "How came the man Billington aboard?" 
 Mathew asked. 
 
 For a moment both were silent, and then Mr. 
 Cushman answered: 
 
THE MAYFLOWER. 55 
 
 " He smuggled his way aboard before we left 
 London. Do you know aught of him?" 
 
 " Only that if he be not a knave, his face greatly 
 belies him." 
 
 " If you have only his face to accuse him, there 
 maybe room for mistake," put in Mr. Weston; 
 but neither Mr. Weston nor Mr. Cushman were 
 prepossessed with the man. 
 
 "1 will warrant that he is an arrant knave," said 
 the latter. 
 
 "So will I," added Mathew. 
 
 "Have you ever met him before?" Mr. Weston 
 asked. 
 
 "I have," answered Mathew. 
 
 "When?" 
 
 " First on that dark and gloomy night when the 
 women and children were arrested at Lincolnshire, 
 in 1608." 
 
 "Was he there?" 
 
 "He was one of the captors and afterward 
 became my guard, from whom I escaped. Only 
 two years ago, he tried to arrest me in London and 
 carry me back to Lincolnshire; but I struck him 
 and escaped. I believe he is one whom we would 
 do well to rid ourselves of." 
 
 All the while, the basilisk eyes of Francis Bil- 
 lington were watching the youth, while a frown of 
 displeasure gathered on his hideous face. The bad 
 
56 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 morals of the Billingtons, father and son, were 
 destined to occasion more anxiety to the Pilgrim 
 Fathers than all other members of the colony. 
 They were the tares sown with the wheat. No 
 company, however carefully selected, can be free 
 from the evils of the human race. As an evi- 
 dence of what an alarming hold sin has upon the 
 children of men, Christ selected but twelve to 
 be his apostles, and there was a Judas among 
 them. 
 
 Mathew knew not that the murderous eyes of 
 the villain were on him, and that his ears drank 
 in every word he said. When he turned from Mr. 
 Cushman and descended into a boat to go ashore, 
 the cunning gray eyes followed him. He was 
 wandering about the town, when, in a dark and 
 unfrequented alley, he suddenly and most unex- 
 pectedly encountered Francis Billington. 
 
 "I heard what ye said," Billington remarked in 
 a voice which trembled with suppressed passion. 
 " Ye would malign me to the officers of the colony. 
 Have I not offered ye my friendship?" 
 
 Mathew turned away with loathing and disgust. 
 The friendship of such a man as Billington was 
 not a thing to be desired. He instinctively hated 
 the monster. 
 
 " So ye will not speak with me?" snarled Billing- 
 ton, and, leaping at the young man, he seized his 
 
THE MAYFLOWER. 
 
 57 
 
 ann. "By tte mass! ye shall be more agree- 
 able." 
 
 The blood in Mathew's veins seemed all on fire, 
 and, turning quickly about, he struck him a blow 
 with his clenched fist, which sent him sprawling to 
 the ground. In a moment the angry man regained 
 his feet and, whipping out his dagger, leaped at 
 his adversary; but Mathew, who v/as full as quick 
 as he, met him with drawn 
 sword and, by a dexterous 
 understroke, disarmed his 
 antagonist. 
 
 "Neatly done ! quite 
 neatly done! " cried an 
 honest voice near. 
 
 The combatants paused 
 and gazed in astonishment 
 at a man who had come 
 upon the scene. He was 
 about thirty-five years of 
 age, short of stature, but strongly built, clad in 
 doublet and hose and boots of cordovan leather. 
 He also wore a sword at his side. It was more 
 the sword of a warrior than a gentleman, for the 
 strong blade had seen hard service. The look of 
 admiration which overspread his face at witnessing 
 the young Spaniard's skill was strong evidence 
 that he appreciated a good swordsman. 
 
 Francis Bilmngton. 
 
58 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 "Neatly done, by the mass!" the stranger re- 
 peated. "Nor could you be blamed if you ran 
 him through." 
 
 Billington heard this unpleasant remark, and, 
 realizing that the tables were turned, picked up 
 his dagger and slunk away. When he was gone 
 the stranger, who had been a witness of the scene, 
 came to Mathew, and, taking his hand, added: 
 
 "I admire your skill! Tell me your name, for» 
 brave men in England are not so plentiful in these 
 latter days that one need not know all." 
 
 Though covered with confusion at this bit of 
 flattery, Mathew answered: 
 
 "I am Mathew Stevens, and have lived with Mr. 
 Robinson at Leyden." 
 
 "You are a Pilgrim?" 
 
 "lam." 
 
 "Do you go in the Mayflower?" 
 
 "I sail in the Speedwell." 
 
 " I regret it is not the Maijflnwer, for I belong to 
 that vessel." 
 
 "Are vou a Puritan?" 
 
 "No; I am a soldier; but my sympathies are 
 with the Puritans. My name is Miles Standish, 
 who, returning from the wars in Flanders, joined 
 the Pilgrims. I remember seeing the knave you 
 so recently punished on our way from London." 
 
 "He would go to America." 
 
THE MAYFLOWER. 59 
 
 " It will not be a lucky day for the colony when 
 Francis Billington becomes a member of it. Such 
 a man would destroy the harmony of the entire 
 company." 
 
 Mathew Stevens and Miles Standish at once be- 
 came fast friends. The young Spaniard also 
 formed the acquaintance of John Alden, a young 
 cooper from London, who was a friend of Captain 
 Standish. 
 
 As for Billington, he disappeared in some man- 
 ner, and there were many among the Pilgrims who 
 hoped that he would not Join them again. 
 
 On the 27th of July, Mr. Carver received a letter 
 from Mr. Eobinson. Many others also received 
 letters from friends, among them' being a missive 
 from honest Hans to Mathew, wishing him a safe 
 voyage and assuring him that he and Katherine 
 would some day be citizens of the Dutch posses- 
 sions on the Hudson. On this day the Pilgrims 
 were distributed in the two ships, and, with the 
 consent of the masters, or captains, chose a governor 
 and two assistants for each, " to order the people 
 and provisions." 
 
 On the fifth of August they set sail from South- 
 ampton'; but before they had gone five leagues Mr. 
 Eeinolds, commander of the Speedivell, complained 
 that his ship was leaking, and he dared not go any 
 further. Both of the vessels were therefore com- 
 
60 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 pelled to put into Dartmouth about August IStti, 
 1620. Here the vessel was overhauled, and it 
 was supposed the leaks were all stopped. On the 
 21st of August they set sail from Dartmouth. 
 Mathew Stevens, who was still aboard the Speed- 
 well, now hoped that she would make the voyage; 
 but in this he and all the others were disappointed. 
 They had not gone above a hundred leagues from 
 Landsend, England, when the master of the Speed- 
 well again discovered that his ship was leaking. 
 When Mathew 's attention was called to the fact, 
 he asked: 
 
 "Can we not stop it?" 
 
 "Not at sea; we must return or sink," the mas- 
 ter declared. " We can hardly free her by con- 
 stant pumping." 
 
 Consequently both vessels put back to Plym- 
 outh, and the Speedwell was again overhauled, 
 "where, finding no defect, they judged her leaki- 
 ness owing to her general weakness." They there- 
 fore decided to abandon the Speedwell as unsea- 
 worthy, and all those wh^j were willing might return 
 to London in her. It was very discouraging to 
 the Pilgrims, especially Mr. Cushman, whom they 
 were compelled to leave behind. 
 
 Mathew Stevens and the heavy oak chest, with 
 the few relics it contained, were taken aboard the 
 Mayflower. He immediately renewed his ac- 
 
THE MAYFLOWER. 61 
 
 quaintance with Captain Miles Standish, his good 
 wife, Rose Standish, and their friend, John Alden. 
 
 On the 6th of September, after another sad 
 parting, the Mayflower set sail alone on her 
 memorable voyage, bearing on board the germs of 
 a mighty commonwealth. They were scarcely well 
 at sea, when they were struck by a sudden storm 
 and cross winds, which for days forced them to 
 sail under bare poles. 
 
 It was on the third night at sea, when the storm 
 was raging fiercely, that Mathew Stevens, who was 
 on deck, became conscious of the near proximity 
 of some disagreeable object. He knew not who or 
 what it was; but of one thing he was certain, and 
 that was that he had a strong aversion for it. He 
 saw a dark form at his side; but the ship's lantern 
 swaying at the mizzen was too far away to reveal 
 the features of the man. The heavens were at 
 this moment illuminated by a blaze of electrical 
 fire, revealing to his astonished gaze the shrinking 
 form of Francis Billington. 
 
 "Why did you come?" cried Mathew, seizing 
 him by the shoulder. 
 
 "My good friend, would ye throw me over- 
 board?" 
 
 "No; but why did you come?" 
 
 "I want to begin a new life in a new world," 
 and with these words he slunk away to his quarters. 
 
63 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 For several days they were unable to carry any 
 sail, the vessel's uppers were very leaky, and a 
 main beam lost its place and struck her in the mid- 
 ships, which so alarmed the Pilgrims, that the 
 principal men of the company began to discuss 
 with the captain of the Mayflower, the propriety 
 of returning to England. Mathew, however, 
 declared that he was carpenter enough to remedy 
 the wrong. He had brought a large screw with 
 him from Holland, and by means of it they raised 
 the beam to its place. 
 
 On November 6th, William Butten, a servant 
 of Mr. Fuller, died; this was the only death during 
 the voyage. 
 
 At daybreak on the 9th of November, after a 
 long and tempestuous voyage, they came in sight 
 of land at Cape Cod. They stood southward. So 
 little did they know of the coast that they expected 
 to find some place about the Hudson Eiver for a 
 settlement; but in the course of a few hours they 
 found themselves among dangerous shoals, and 
 were compelled to return to the cape harbor, where 
 they rode in safety. 
 
 On the 11th of November, they determined to 
 seek a location in New England. Their design 
 and patent, however, being for Virginia and not 
 New England, which belonged to another jurisdic- 
 tion, with which the Virginia Company had no 
 
THE MAYFLOWER. 63 
 
 concern, they decided before landing that they 
 would this day combine themselves into a body 
 politic by a solemn compact, to which they set their 
 hands, as the basis of their government in this new- 
 found country, which was as follows, word for word : 
 
 In the name of god, amen. We, whose names are 
 here underwritten, the loyal subjects of our dread sover- 
 eign lord, King James, by the grace of God, of Great 
 Britain, France, and Ireland, defender of the faith, hav- 
 ing undertaken, for the glory of God, and advancement of 
 the Christian faith, and honor of our king and country, a 
 voyage to plant the first colony in the northern part of 
 Virginia, do by these presents solemnly and mutually in 
 the presence of God and one another, covenant and com- 
 bine ourselves together into a civil body politic, for our 
 better ordering and preservation, and furtherance of the 
 ends aforesaid; and by virtue hereof to enact, constitute, 
 and frame such just and equal laws, ordinances, acts, con- 
 stitutions, and offices, from time to time, as shall be 
 thought most mete and convenient for the general good of 
 the colony, unto which we promise all due submission 
 and obedience. In witness whereof we have hereunder 
 subscribed our names. Cape Cod, 11th November, in the 
 year of the reign of our sovereign lord King James of 
 England, France, and Ireland, 18, and of Scotland 54, 
 Anno Domini, 1620. 
 
 Mr. John Carver, Stephen Hopkins, 
 
 Mr. William Brewster, Francis Cook, 
 John Alden, John Eidgdale, 
 
 Mr. Wm. MuUins, Francis Eaton, 
 
 Mr. John Howland, Mr. Edward Winslow, 
 
 John Tilly, Capt. Miles Standish, 
 
 Thomas Tinker, Mr. Christopher Martin, 
 
 John Turner, Mr. Richard Warren, 
 
 William Bradford, Edward Tilly, 
 
 Mr. Isaac AUerton, Thomas Rodgers, 
 
 Mr. Samuel Fuller, Edward Fuller, 
 
 Mr. Wm. White, James Chilton. 
 
64 THE PILOBIMS. 
 
 Francis Billington, not being a Pilgrim, and 
 having already shown a spirit at rebellion with 
 God and man, was not permitted to enter into the 
 compact. There was a warm discussion as to 
 whether Mathew Stevens should not also become 
 a partner to it. Captain Miles Standish and John 
 Alden favored his being a charter member, but 
 Fuller and Winslow opposed it on account of his 
 Spanish blood and supposed Catholic ancestry. 
 
 At this period in the world's history, the Span- 
 iards were heartily hated by the English, and not- 
 withstanding Mathew had been carefully brought 
 up by their beloved pastor, he had the blood of the 
 Spaniard in his veins, and was known to possess 
 the fiery nature of a son of the tropics, consequently 
 his name does not appear in the compact. 
 
CHAPTEE lY. 
 
 PLYMOUTH BOCK. 
 
 The breaking waves dashed high 
 
 On a stem and rock-bound coast, 
 And the woods against a stormy sky 
 
 Their giant branches tossed ; 
 And the heavy night hung dark, 
 
 The hills and waters o'er. 
 When a band of exiles moored their bark 
 
 On the wild New England shore. 
 
 —Mrs. Hemans. 
 
 Wood, the only fuel used on the Mayflower, 
 was exhausted, and on the day that the compact 
 was signed, it was decided to send some of the 
 men ashore to gather fuel. Mathew Stevens vol- 
 unteered to lead the party into the forest, so he 
 landed with fifteen others, all well armed, with the 
 double purpose of exploring the shore and bringing 
 in wood. They discovered that they were on a 
 small neck of land. On the side where their vessel 
 lay was the bay, and on the farther side the sea. 
 The soil and sand-hills were something like the 
 Downs of Holland, though much more fertile. 
 Holes, sunk into the earth to the depth of three 
 5 65 
 
66 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 or four feet, revealed excellent black earth. The 
 shore was all wooded with oaks, pines, sassafras, 
 juniper, birch, holly, vines, some ash and walnut. 
 The trees were large, stately and almost free from 
 underbrush, so that one could drive a cart through 
 the forest; but not a sign of a person or a habita- 
 tion could be seen, and at night ther returned with 
 a boat load of sweet smelling juniper wood. 
 
 On the 13th of November, the Pilgrims un- 
 shipped their shallop and drew it on land to re- 
 pair some damages it had sustained, for they had 
 been forced to cut it down in stowing it between 
 decks. From strains received during the voyage, 
 the seams of the shallop also had been started, and 
 it took the carpenter sixteen or seventeen days to 
 repair it. The Pilgrims, wearied w'ith their long 
 confinement on shipboard, went ashore to refresh 
 themselves, and the women to wash their clothes. 
 While waiting for the carpenter to finish his work 
 on the shallop, some of the Pilgrims determined 
 to set out by land and explore the country for a 
 place suitable for the location of the town. Mr. 
 Winslow argued that there was a harbor near the 
 mouth of a river. 
 
 The proposed expedition was looked upon as 
 dangerous, and was permitted rather than approved 
 by the leading men of the Pilgrims. With 
 cautioiis directions and instructions, sixteen men. 
 
PLYMOUTH ROCK. 67 
 
 among whom were Mathew Stevens and John Al- 
 den, armed with muskets, swords, and corselets, set 
 out under Captain Miles Standish. To the sixteen 
 were added, as counsellors and advisers, William 
 Bradford, Stephen Hopkins, and Edward Tilly. 
 
 On Wednesday, November 15th, this party was 
 set on shore, and, forming in single file, with Cap- 
 tain Standish in front, and Mathew Stevens next, 
 began the march into the wilderness. They had 
 not gone over a mile, when Mathew Stevens, who 
 had been sent ahead a few rods to reconnoitre, sud- 
 denly halted and said: 
 
 " I see five or six people with a dog, coming 
 toward us." 
 
 The people could be plainly seen by all, and 
 the Englishmen asked each other the very impor- 
 tant question: 
 
 "Who are they?" 
 
 "Perchance, it is Mr. Jones, the master, and 
 some of the sailors," suggested Miles Standish. 
 "They are on shore and know of our coming." 
 
 The Pilgrims continued, to advance toward the 
 strangers until they were themselves discovered, 
 and then they, proving to be savages, turned about 
 and ran away into the wood, whistling to their dog 
 to come after them. Miles Standish, soldier-like, 
 determined to make a bold advance. Command- 
 ing his men to quicken their pace, they hurried 
 
68 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 after the Indians, lest others should lie in am- 
 bush. When the Indians saw the whites following 
 them, they ran away at full speed, disappearing 
 over some hills, and the Pilgrims turned out of the 
 wood after them and followed their trail for about 
 ten. miles. The ground was soft and the footprints 
 made a trail easy to follow. During the afternoon, 
 Mathew pointed out an Indian spy on the hill 
 watching them. 
 
 Night came and the Pilgrim band, now in a vast 
 and unknown wilderness, went into camp, kindled 
 a watch fire and set three sentinels. Next morn- 
 ing, the 16th of November, as soon as it was 'light, 
 they set out once more on the Indians' trail and 
 followed it until they reached the head of a creek, 
 where the Indians entered another forest. Miles 
 Standish and his party, hoping to come upon some 
 of their dwellings, followed after them; but, 
 though they marched over hills and through val- 
 leys, forcing their way through jungles and thorns, 
 which almost tore their armor to pieces, they found 
 no natives, habitations, nor fresh water of which 
 they so much stood in need; for they had brought 
 neither beer nor water with them, and their only 
 provisions were biscuit, Holland cheese, and a 
 small bottle of aquavitae. They were sufEering 
 with thirst ; but all the water they had so far found 
 was brackish and unfit to drink. 
 
PLYMOUTH ROCK. 69 
 
 About ten o'clock they came to a deep valley, 
 full of brushi-wood and long grass. Little paths 
 led about all through it, no doubt having been 
 made by wild animals going to and fro in search 
 of water. At last they came upon a clear, cold, 
 fresh spring. A wild deer was drinking at it and 
 Mathew raised his gun to shoot it; but Captain 
 Stan dish forbade his doing so. 
 
 " The report of your gun would give notice to the 
 Indians that we are here," the captain argued. The 
 deer ran away, and the Pilgrims, gathering about 
 the spring, knelt down and tasted the clear, cold, 
 sweet New England spring- water foi the first time. 
 
 When they had slaked their thirst and refreshed 
 themselves with a short rest, they directed their 
 course south that they might come to the shore, 
 which they did in a short time and, according to 
 previous arrangements, built a fire, that the ship 
 might know where they were. They then contin- 
 ued their march toward the supposed river and en- 
 tered another valley in which was a fine, clear pond 
 of fresh water. About the pond was a dense jun- 
 gle of tall grass and vines, haunted by the wild deer 
 and fowls. Journeying a mile or so further, they 
 came upon a spot of about fifty acres of ground, 
 which bore evidences of cultivation, and there could 
 be no doubt that Indians had planted corn there 
 the year before. 
 
'TO THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 A little further on, they came upon heaps of 
 sand, which they were convinced had been made 
 by human hands. One of the heaps was covered 
 with mats, and had a wooden mortar on the top of 
 it, with an earthen pot laid in a little hole at the 
 end. After some discussion it was decided to dig 
 into the heap which they had found. By doing so 
 they came upon a bow and some arrows. 
 
 "Evidently it is the grave of an Indian," re- 
 marked Mr. Bradford. "We will not disturb 
 them, for it would be odious unto the savages to 
 ransack their sepulchres." 
 
 Advancing still further, they came upon some 
 new corn-stalks from which the com had been gath- 
 ered, and many walnut trees full of nuts. They 
 passed two fields and came to a third in which a 
 house had been, and where four or five planks 
 placed together still lay. Here they found a great 
 kettle, which evidently had belonged to some ship. 
 A new heap of sand also attracted their attention, 
 and digging into it they found an old basket full 
 of Indian corn. By digging a little further they 
 came upon a large Indian basket filled with beauti- 
 ful Indian corn in the ear. Some was yellow, 
 some red, and the grains of others were mixed 
 with blue. It was a very welcome sight to the 
 Pilgrims, for the corn would furnish them with 
 food for some time. A sentry was placed about 
 
PLYMOUTH ROCK. 71 
 
 the heaps of buried treasure while they searched 
 for more. They placed the corn in the kettle to 
 take to their shallop, intending, if their owners 
 came, to return the kettle and satisfy them for the 
 corn. 
 
 Loaded with their cereal treasure, they resumed 
 their march and had not gone far, before they 
 came upon the ruins of an old fort, which Miles 
 Standish said had been built by Christians, as it 
 was undoubtedly of European structure. Near 
 this place they came to what they thought to be a 
 river, but which they found to be two arms of the 
 sea, divided by high banks. Here also they dis- 
 covered two Indian canoes, one on each side of the 
 bank. 
 
 Leaving further discovery to the shallop, they 
 went back to the fresh water pond, and, building 
 a great camp fire, made a barricade to windward 
 and kept a good watch with three sentinels all 
 night, every one standing as his turn came, with 
 five or six inches of match in his gun burning. 
 
 It rained nearly all night. Next morning, 
 November 17th, as the kettle was very heavy, 
 they sank it in the pond, trimmed their muskets, 
 for some of them had become damaged with the 
 rain and damp, and started along the coast toward 
 the Mayflower. 
 
 "Marry! What be this?" asked Miles Stan- 
 
73 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 dish, suddenly halting where a young sprout was 
 bent over a bough, and some acorns were under- 
 neath. "That never grew in such a shape." 
 
 "It is some device to catch deer," answered 
 Stephen Hopkins. They were all standing look- 
 ing at it, when William Bradford, who had been 
 lingering behind came up. 
 
 "What do you gaze at?" he asked. 
 
 "This strange contrivance," answered Hopkins. 
 
 At this William Bradford kicked it with his 
 foot, and immediately up sprang the bush and a 
 rope formed like a noose caught him by the leg. 
 
 "Help! Help me out! 'Tis a trap, a trap!" 
 cried Mr. Bradford, struggling to free himself. 
 
 It was a cunning device, made with a rope of 
 the Indians' own construction, and having a noose 
 as artistically constructed as any ropemaker in 
 England could have done. When Mr. Bradford's 
 leg was jerked up in the air, he was thrown down 
 upon the ground, and they hastened to his relief. 
 After he was released, they left the wood and went 
 a mile above the creek where they saw three bucks. 
 Mathew Stevens shot one of them. Some of them 
 having a fowling-piece killed three brace of par- 
 tridges. Great flocks of wild geese and ducks were 
 seen along the water; but they were so shy that 
 the explorers could not get near enough for a shot. 
 They journeyed on, sometimes in the wood, some- 
 
PLYMOUTH ROCK. 
 
 73 
 
 times on the sandy beach, and a part of the time 
 wading in water up to their knees, until they came 
 in sight of the Mayflower. They fired their 
 pieces to attract the attention of the ship, and a 
 
 "SeLP ME OUT ! 'TiS A TBAP!" 
 
 few moments later they saw the long boat put out 
 for them. Mr. Carver and Captain Jones with 
 others, being on shore in the woods near, came to 
 meet them. 
 
 The Pilgrims, weary with their long tramp, were 
 
74 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 glad to be once more on board the Mayflower, 
 wbich, after all, was a haven of rest compared 
 with the wild, desolate shore of New England. 
 The shallop was hardly completed before another 
 expedition was planned. 
 
 On the 27th day of November, twenty-four Pil- 
 grims under Miles Standish, among whom was 
 Mathew Stevens, were appointed to make a more 
 complete discovery of the shore. To the twenty- 
 four armed Pilgrims, Captain Jones added ten 
 sailors including himself. In order to gratify the 
 master of the ship, he was made their leader. 
 They set out in the shallop and long boat; but the 
 weather was so rough that they were compelled to 
 row to the nearest shore and wade out into the 
 water, which came above their knees. The wind 
 was so strong that they were forced to take the 
 shallop into the harbor for that night ; though they 
 marched six or seven miles further, leaving orders 
 that the shallop should come up as soon as she 
 could. The wind blew, the snow fell, and it was 
 freezing cold. According to the journal of the 
 Pilgrims, " some of the people that died took the 
 original of their death here." 
 
 Next day, the 29th of November, the shallop 
 came up, all went aboard, and, the weather being 
 fair, sailed to the river they had formerly dis- 
 covered, which they named ''Cold Harbor." 
 
PLYMOUTH ROCK. 75 
 
 Although it was not navigable for ships, they 
 thought their boats might ride there in safety. 
 
 Miles Standish, with twenty men, landed and 
 marched some four or five miles, while the shallop 
 followed up the creek. Night came, and the men, 
 wearied with marching through the forests, over 
 rugged hills and stony valleys covered a foot deep 
 with snow, were anxious to go into camp. Cap- 
 tain Jones, unaccustomed to such toil on land, de- 
 clared that he would go no further, though Miles 
 Standish and Mathew Stevens wanted to press on 
 a few miles further. They halted under a large 
 pine tree, built a great watch fire, and all gathered 
 round it. 
 
 Just at night, Mathew and John Alden went to 
 a pond and shot three fat geese and six ducks, 
 which made a good supper for the hungry soldiers. 
 Next morning, November 5i9th, they were de- 
 terred from going up the river on account of the 
 high hills, so they turned toward the other creek 
 and went over to look for a spot to rest, as well 
 as for the corn which they had left behind when 
 there before. When they reached the creek, 
 they found the canoe lying on the dry ground, and 
 a flock of geese in the river. Mathew fired his 
 gun and killed a couple of them. Mathew and 
 John Alden launched the canoe and brought in the 
 dead geese; after which they carried the rest of 
 
76 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 the party over tlie river seven or eight at a time. 
 Having landed on the other side, they once more 
 went to Corn Hill, or the place where they had 
 formerly found corn and, by digging, found more. 
 
 In another mound was found a bottle of oil and 
 more corn, in a third were three baskets full of 
 Indian wheat, and a bag of beans. While some 
 were unearthing the beans and wheat, others dis- 
 covered more corn buried in the sand, so they took 
 out in all about ten bushels, enough to furnish 
 seed for the whole colony. The ground at this 
 time was frozen so hard that they were compelled 
 to cut down into it a foot or more with their swords. 
 
 Captain Jones grew uneasy at the threatening 
 aspect of the weather, and was anxious to return 
 to his ship. For several days the captain had been 
 insisting that the Pilgrims select a location so that 
 he might sail to England. 
 
 Captain Jones, with Billington, the sailors, and 
 some of the others, returned to the vessel; but 
 eighteen, including Bradford, Standish, and Ste- 
 vens remained on shore with instructions that the 
 shallop might come to them the next day and bring 
 them mattocks and spades. 
 
 Next day, November 30th, they followed a 
 well-beaten Indian path, supposing that it would 
 lead them to some Indian town or house. As they 
 advanced, the path grew broader and showed evi- 
 
PLYMOUTH ROCK. 77 
 
 dences of having been recently travelled. Miles 
 Standish halted his men and addressed to them a 
 few words of caution. 
 
 "We are not far from the natives. Whether 
 they will meet ns friendly or otherwise we know 
 not; but I deem it expedient to be prepared for 
 the worst, so light your matches." 
 
 This precaution proved unnecessary, however, 
 for the path proved to be only a deer path, made 
 by the Indians on their hunts. No houses were 
 found, nor signs of people, and, returning another 
 way, they found a mound which looked like a 
 grave, though much longer and larger. It was 
 covered with boards. After a long deliberation, 
 they resolved to dig into it, and, doing so, they 
 found first a mat and under it, a bow and then 
 another mat, and under that a board, finely carved 
 and painted with three tin brooches on the top, 
 like a crown. Between the mats were found 
 bowls, trays and dishes and like trinkets. At 
 last they came to a new mat and under that two 
 bundles, "the one bigger, the other less." Open- 
 ing the larger bundle they found in it a great 
 quantity of fine red powder, and the bones and 
 skull of a man. The skull had fine yellow hair 
 still on it and some of the flesh unconsumed. 
 There was bound up with it a knife, a packing 
 needle, and two or three old iron things. It was 
 
78 
 
 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 bound up in a sailor's canvas cassock aud a pair 
 of cloth breeches. The red powder was a kind 
 of balm, yielding a pungent bnt not offensive 
 odor. The " lesser bundle" on being opened con- 
 tained more red powder and the bones of a little 
 child. About the legs and other parts of it were 
 found strings and bracelets of fine white beads. 
 There was also by it a little bow, three-quarters of 
 a yard long, and some odd toys. The Pilgrims 
 carried away many of the things, but covered up 
 the skeleton again. Though other mounds were 
 searched, no more corn was found. 
 
 There was a long discussion and a variety of 
 g^ opinions among them about the embalmed 
 "~ ■ person. Mr. Bradford 
 
 thought it was an In- 
 dian lord or king; 
 but Miles Standish 
 argued : 
 
 "Indians all have 
 long, black hair, and 
 never was one seen 
 with brown or yellow 
 hair. It i s more likely 
 a Christian of some special note, who died among 
 them, and was thus buried in honor." 
 
 " More likely they killed him, and did it in tri- 
 umph over him," put in Mathew Stevens. 
 
 Indian huts. 
 
PLYMOUTH BOCK. 79 
 
 Wliile roving about, they espied two houses 
 which had been recently occupied; but the people 
 were now gone. The houses were made of long 
 poles, or young sapling trees bent and both ends 
 stuck in the ground. They were arbor-shaped, 
 and covered down to the ground with thick and 
 well made mats, and the door, not over a yard 
 high, consisted of a mat hung so it would open. 
 A wide open hole in the top marked the place 
 where the smoke escaped. The houses were high 
 enough for a tall man to stand erect within them. 
 They were made of wicker-work, or matting, so 
 completely and neatly that they turned rain as 
 well as the best English roof. In the houses were 
 found wooden bowls, trays and dishes, earthen 
 pots, hand baskets, made of crab shells wrought 
 together, also an English bucket. There were 
 many baskets, large and small, fine and plain. 
 
 Two or three deer heads were found in one of 
 the houses, one of them having been but recently 
 killed. They also found parched acorns, dried 
 fish, and broiled herring. Some venison was also 
 found, but in such a bad state of decomposition, 
 that they were compelled to throw it away. 
 
 They took some of the best things, but left the 
 houses, and then, it being late and the tide being 
 almost out, hastened to their boat. 
 
 "Why not make this our abiding place?" sug- 
 
80 THE PILORIMS. 
 
 gested Mr. Bradford. "I believe it best, because, 
 first, there is a convenient harbor for boats, 
 though not for ships." 
 
 "Secondly," put in Mathew, "there is good 
 corn-ground ready to our hands, as we saw by 
 experience in the goodly corn it yielded, which 
 will again agree with the ground, and be natural 
 seed for the same." 
 
 "Thirdly," added Mr. Winslow, "Cape Cod is 
 like to be a place of good fishing, for we saw daily 
 great whales of the best kind for oil and bone come 
 close to our ship, and in fair weather they swim 
 and play about us. There was once one, when 
 the sun shone warm, that came and lay above 
 water, as if he had been dead for a good while to- 
 gether, within half a musket-shot of our ship." 
 
 As a fourth argument. Miles Standish, with a 
 military eye to the situation, added his reason: 
 
 "The place is likely to be healthful, secure, and 
 defensible." 
 
 The most special reason for making it their abid- 
 ing place was that they were in the midst of 
 winter, and unseasonable weather was come upon 
 them, so that coasting for a more suitable place 
 was dangerous. Cold and exposure was telling on 
 the constitutions of the stoutest of the Pilgrims, 
 for scarcely any of them were free from vehement 
 coughs. 
 
PLYMOUTH ROCK. 81 
 
 Some of the party wanted to go to Augu-um, 
 or Agoum (Aggawam, Ipswich), twenty leagues 
 north, which they had heard possessed an excellent 
 harbor for ships, better ground and better fishing. 
 There might also be better water near. The water 
 they had found was only in ponds and must be 
 carried up a steep hill. After much discussion on 
 the matter, it was decided to make some location 
 within the bay. When they returned to the ship, 
 Eobert Coppin, the pilot, told them of a great navi- 
 gable river and good harbor in the other headland 
 of the bay, almost over against Cape Cod, being in 
 a right line, but not more than eight leagues 
 distant. He had once been in this harbor, and 
 thought it the best place for planting on all the 
 coast. 
 
 While a third expedition was getting ready to 
 pet out to explore this land, Mrs. White gave birth 
 to a male child, which was named Peregrine. On 
 the same day, John Billington, son of Francis 
 Billington, who with his father had sneaked aboard 
 the vessel at London, very nearly blew up the May- 
 flower. John, like his father, was incorrigible. 
 He was the dread of the ship, and in open rebel- 
 lion to all laws. Though but ten or twelve years 
 of age, he stole a fowling-piece, and went to the 
 cabin to learn how to load and fire. He succeeded 
 in loading it and lighting the match, when the gun 
 
82 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 was accidentally discharged, scattering the fire over 
 the floor. 
 
 The report was heard on deck, and Mr. Brad- 
 ford cried: 
 
 "Who hath blown up the ship?" 
 
 Mathew ran to the cabin and beheld the young 
 imp with the gun in his hand and some bits of 
 burning tow lying within a few inches of the keg 
 of powder. Realizing the danger, he extinguished 
 the fire and snatched the gun from the hands of 
 the precocious youth. 
 
 "Young knave! would you blow up the ship?" 
 he cried. 
 
 "Beware how ye harm me!" cried John Bil- 
 lington. " My father will deal hard with ye for 
 this." 
 
 Francis Billington, when he heard what had 
 been done, muttered some threats under his 
 breath; but he dared not do the young Spaniard 
 any harm openly, for the Pilgrims were his friends. 
 In an ordinary situation, Billington had every- 
 thing necessary to make him what is convention- 
 ally called a worthy citizen. At the same time, 
 certain circumstances being given, certain shocks 
 stirring up his nature from the bottom, he had 
 everything requisite to make him a villain. He 
 had been a member of the dragoons, then a shop- 
 keeper, but there always slumbered within him a 
 
PLYMOUTH BOCK. 88 
 
 monster. Satan at times crouched in a corner of 
 the lair where Billington lived. 
 
 Watching Mathew with his basilisk eyes, he 
 murmured under his dark teeth : 
 
 "I can bide my time; but you shall pay my 
 vengeance with usury." 
 
 On "Wednesday, December 6th, 1620, Captain 
 Miles Standish and Mathew Stevens, with the fol- 
 lowing men, set out in search of a place suitable 
 for planting: Master Carver, William Bradford, 
 Edward Winslow, John Tilly, Edward Tilly, John 
 Howland, Richard Warren, Stephen Hopkins and 
 Edward Dotey, also two sailors, John Allerton and 
 Thomas English, with Masters Clarke and Coppin. 
 On the 7th of December, they sent eight of their 
 company in the shallop and the rest by land to dis- 
 cover the place recommended by the pilot; but 
 they found it to be only a bay without either river 
 or creek flowing into it; yet they thought it as 
 good as Cape Cod, for a ship might ride in five 
 fathoms of water. The land was level, but none 
 of the most fruitful. Here also were found 
 streams of running water. Some Indians were 
 discovered cutting up a large fish called a gram- 
 pus. They attempted to speak with them; but 
 they ran away into the woods, where, by following 
 them, they found an Indian house. A little far- 
 ther on, the Pilgrims came upon an Indian bury- 
 
84 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 ing-ground in whicli were many graves; but 
 though they found many evidences of the dead 
 there were no signs of tlje living. On their way, 
 they found in some mounds Indian corn ; but it 
 was evidently more than a year old. In the 
 course of their wanderings, they came upon foar 
 or five Indian houses like those they had seen at 
 Corn Hill. Night was coming on, and they sig- 
 nalled the shallop to stand in to shore for them. 
 They decided, however, to pass the night on shore 
 by a big watch fire, as it was very cold. Sentries 
 were set, and Mathew Stevens, worn out with his 
 long tramp, lay down by the side of Miles Standish 
 to sleep. It was midnight, and the young Span- 
 iard was lost in the mazes of a troubled dream, in 
 which Francis Billington seemed threatening the 
 life of Alice White. lie heard the clash of arms 
 and the confused cry of human voices, mingled 
 with the report of guns. Some one seized him and 
 jerked him to his feet. 
 
 "Awake! awake! if you would not be slain in 
 your sleep!" cried the voice of Miles Standish in 
 his ear. At the same time one of the sentries fired 
 a musket, and shouted: 
 
 "Awake! arm! arm!" 
 
 The Pilgrims seized their arms, and sprang be- 
 hind trees. The woods glowed with burning 
 matches, but after a few moments the noise ceased. 
 
PLYMOUTH ROCK. 85 
 
 and some one declared it was only a pack of wolves; 
 so the camp once more sought repose. 
 
 Next morning they were astir before daylight, 
 and, fearing their guns were damp, they fired 
 them in the air. After prayers they ate breakfast 
 and began to prepare for their journey. It was 
 not yet daylight when they began carrying their 
 rugs, mats, and cooking utensils to the shallop. 
 
 "Let us take our armor also," suggested Mr. 
 Bradford. 
 
 "I will not take mine until I go myself," re- 
 turned Miles Standish, who was loading his snap- 
 hance gun, the only flint-lock in the company. 
 Captain Standish was a cautious soldier and ever 
 prepared against surprise. The water was yet low, 
 and those who carried their arms and armor to the 
 beach were unable to reach the shallop, so they 
 were compelled to lay them on the sand. 
 
 The brightening twilight had grown to a sober 
 gray, when the air was suddenly rent with the 
 most horrible cry that ever fell on human ears. 
 Mathew, who had gone a short distance up the 
 hill, came running -back crying: 
 
 "They are men! Indians! Indians!" 
 
 The twang of bow-strings and whiz of arrows 
 too truly confirmed what he had said. 
 
 "Fly to your arms!" cried Captain Miles Stan- 
 dish, cocking his flint-lock gun, and running up 
 
86 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 the hill to meet the enemy. Half a dozen dark 
 forms came flitting forward like the shadows of 
 fieads in the woods. Raising his gun, Captain 
 Standish fired. By this time Mathew had his 
 match lighted, and, wheeling about, took aim and 
 fired at one of those advancing forms. But four 
 men were now left in the camp to defend it, and 
 Captain Standish called: 
 
 "Don't fire until you can make sure of your 
 aim. Those at the shallop will defend it, have no 
 fears." 
 
 Three of the men at the shallop discharged their 
 guns at long range, and another asked for a fire- 
 brand with which to light their matches. Mathew 
 took a log, one end of which was burning, on his 
 shoulder and ran amid, a shower of arrows to his 
 friends on the beach. One lusty Indian from be- 
 hind a tree discharged five arrows at him. 
 Mathew stooped when he discharged the first 
 arrow, and it went over his head. Three muskets 
 had been fired at this fellow, and Mathew, reload- 
 ing his gun, took deliberate aim at him and fired. 
 The savage with a yell fled, and all his followers 
 imitated his example. The Pilgrims supposed 
 from the noise they made, that there must be 
 about thirty of them. Entering the shallop, they 
 went to the harbor. The next day, the 10th being 
 the Sabbath, they rested; but on the 11th of De- 
 
PLYMOUTH ROCK. 87 
 
 cember, 1620, after sounding the harbor, the Pil- 
 grims rowed ashore, and their bark touched the 
 famous stone known all over the world as " Plym- 
 outh Eock." The harbor was "found good for 
 shipping." According to their journal: "We 
 also marched into the land and found divers corn- 
 fields and little running brooks, a place very good 
 for situation, so we returned to our ship again 
 with the good news to the rest of our people, which 
 did much to comfort their hearts." The May- 
 flower, after many difficulties and dangers, was 
 brought into the harbor. 
 
 We need say nothing of Plymouth Eock. His- 
 torian, poet and romancer have enshrined it in 
 imperishable lines. It is familiar to every school- 
 boy. Our story deals with only a few of those 
 sturdy people of God who made the stone famous, 
 and we will conclude this chapter at Plymouth 
 Eock. 
 
CHAPTEE V. 
 
 THE DEATH OF BOSE STANDISH. 
 
 His home was a freezing cabin, 
 
 Too bare for a hungry rat, 
 Its roof thatched with rugged grass, 
 
 And bald enough at that ; 
 The hole that served for a casement 
 
 Was glazed with an ancient hat ; 
 And the ice was gently thawing 
 
 From the log whereon he sat. 
 
 —Holmes. 
 
 On Friday, December the 15th, the Mayflower 
 weighed anchor to sail into the harbor they had 
 discovered; but, owing to a strong head-wind, they 
 did not reach the harbor until next day. The 
 Pilgrims were delighted with the harbor, which 
 Mr. Bradford declared was larger than Cape Cod, 
 "compassed with a goodly land, and in the bay two 
 fine islands uninhabited, wherein are nothing but 
 wood, oaks, pines, walnut, beech, sassafras, vines, 
 and other trees which we know not. This bay is 
 a most hopeful place; innumerable store of fowl, 
 and excellent good, and cannot but be of fish in 
 
THE DEATH OF ROSE STANDISH 89 
 
 their season. Skate, cod, turbot, and herring, we 
 have tasted of; abundance of wassels, the greatest 
 and best that we ever saw ; crabs and lobsters, in 
 their infinite." 
 
 The 17th being the Sabbath, the Pilgrims re- 
 mained on board the Mayflower, and Mr. Brew- 
 ster preached a sermon, and the day was passed in 
 prayer and thanksgiving. On Monday the 18th, 
 Miles Standish, with John Alden and a party of 
 fifteen, including Captain Jones and four sailors, 
 went ashore and marched some seven or eight miles 
 along the coast, but sav? neither Indians nor habi- 
 tations, though they found an old Indian corn- 
 field. They found the soil very rich, with pines, 
 walnuts, and oaks growing, and, while there were 
 no great rivers, they discovered four or five small 
 brooks emptying into the sea. They found evi- 
 dences of many herbs, among them the strawberry 
 leaves innumerable, sorrel, wild onions, and' other 
 wild vegetables. Next day they made further ex- 
 plorations and found a creek, which they ascended 
 three English miles. It proved to be a very pleas- 
 ant stream in which at full tide a bark of thirty 
 tons might ride in safety. They were strongly 
 inclined to locate at this place; but it was thought 
 to be too far from their fishing, and surrounded by 
 a dark wood which might afford shelter for an 
 enemy. Some of them suggested that, as a matter 
 
90 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 of safety, they build their colony on a large island, 
 inaccessible save by water. 
 
 That night they returned on shipboard, resolved 
 on the morrow to settle on one of the three loca- 
 tions. Next morning, after invoking the aid of 
 God in their choice, they went ashore to view the 
 two places on main land. After landing and view- 
 ing them, they decided on the spot at which they 
 had first landed, where there was a bit of high 
 ground, an old Indian cornfield, and a considerable 
 amount of land already cleared. The murmur- 
 ing brooks and delightful springs furnished them 
 with an abundance of sweet water. On the 22d, a 
 storm raged all day, and they did not go ashore 
 until Saturday. Then Mathew, Standish, Brad- 
 ford and twelve or fifteen more landed and began 
 cutting down great trees and clearing the ground 
 for buildings. On Sunday they rested from their 
 toils; but on Monday the 25th they again resumed 
 their work. Billington, who was idly roving far 
 inland, returned and reported that he had heard 
 the sound of Indians. 
 
 The Pilgrims first began the construction of 
 what they called a platform, a sort of fort for their 
 ordnance, where they might command both the 
 shore and bay, "and might be easier impaled hav- 
 ing two rows of houses and a fair street." 
 
 That morning they took an enumeration of the 
 
THE DEATH OF ROSE STANDISH. 91 
 
 families, giving to single men who had no wives 
 the privilege to join with any family they saw 
 fit, so as few houses as possible would have to 
 be constructed. The whole colony was thus re- 
 duced to nineteen families. Mathew Stevens, hav- 
 ing been specially recommended to the charge of 
 Mr. Brewster by his foster father, Mr. Eobinson, 
 decided of course to become one of the family of 
 the ruling elder. John Alden accepted a place in 
 the household of his friend. Captain Miles Standish. 
 Despite the discouraging rains and cold weather, 
 they prepared to go to work. During the last 
 days of December they discovered smoke some dis- 
 tance away in the forest which they knew to be 
 from the fires of the Indians, and their uneasiness 
 was increased. 
 
 On Monday, January, 1st, 1621, the Pilgrims 
 went to work in earnest, and the ring of axes and 
 crash of falling trees, with the rasping of whip-saws 
 and the ripping up of the logs into lumber, for the 
 first time awoke the sleeping echoes of the old for- 
 est. On Wednesday, the fourth day of the New 
 Year, as Mathew and Alden went abroad to gather 
 material for thatching the houses, they saw the 
 smoke of Indian fires, and next day Captain Stan- 
 dish, with Mathew Stevens, John Alden, and 
 Francis Billington went to search the country for 
 the fires. They found some deserted wigwams. 
 
93 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 but no Indians. On their return, Mathew Stevens 
 shot and killed an American eagle. On Monday, 
 the 8th of January, Francis Billington reported 
 that he had discovered from the top of a high tree 
 a great sea, and, with a sailor, set out to find it; 
 but the great sea proved to be only some lakes. 
 
 It was decided, after building their town house, 
 or platform, which was to serve the purposes of 
 both fort and church, that, in order to expedite 
 matters, each man should build his own house. 
 They worked whenever the weather would allow. 
 About a week after they had commenced the con- 
 struction of their priva.te dwellings, two of their 
 men became lost, and the colony was wild with 
 alarm. Captain Standish sent Mathew Stevens 
 and a dozen armed men in search of them. While 
 they were gone the missing men returned. Just 
 at their return the town house was fired by a spark, 
 and they came very near to losing all they had 
 done; but the damage was not great, and they 
 bravely set to work to repair it. They built a 
 common shed to put their provisions under, as 
 some of it already had been sent ashore. 
 
 On the 19th of December, John Groodman, who 
 was lame from a frosted foot, was roaming about 
 the hill above the settlement accompanied only by 
 a dog, when he was beset by a pair of wolves. 
 The dog took shelter between his legs, and he 
 
THE DEATH OF ROSE STANDISH. 93 
 
 fought the wolves off with a stick, yelling and 
 shouting to keep them at bay. Stevens was 
 working near and, hearing the cries, snatched his 
 gun and ran to Goodman's assistance. The wolves 
 saw him coming and, realizing that there was 
 danger, fled. 
 
 When the shed was completed and their provis- 
 ions were placed under it, they resumed work on 
 their dwelling houses. Such as were sick and un- 
 able to build their own houses had to wait until 
 their friends made them. Exposure had already 
 begun to tell on the rugged natures of the Pilgrims. 
 Many were sick, and before they had been three 
 months in New England, twenty signers to the 
 Mayflower compact had died. 
 
 On the morning of the 31st of January, Captain 
 Jones and some of the sailors on the deck of the 
 Mayflower, saw two savages on an island near the 
 ship. They tried to speak with them; bat the In- 
 dians disappeared. 
 
 On shore the Pilgrims continued their work, 
 frequently interrupted by storms of rain, hail, and 
 snow. On February 16th, Mathew Stevens went 
 out into the forest for some game and had just 
 taken up a station among some reeds and bushes 
 near the creek, about a mile and a half from the 
 plantation, when there passed by him twelve In- 
 dians, going toward their settlement. The match 
 
94 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 in his gun was lighted and the pan thrown open, yet 
 he dared not fire, for discovery was death. He 
 could only kill one or two at most, and the others 
 would fall upon and slay him. He heard the 
 voices of many others in the woods, so he knew 
 that the twelve were not all. Filled with a thou- 
 sand dreads, he lay close until they passed, then 
 ran home to warn his friends. Those who were at 
 work in the fields and woods came home to arm 
 themselves. While Miles Standish and Francis 
 Cook came for their guns, the Indians stole their 
 tools. 
 
 Affairs had come to such a pass, that a military 
 organization was necessary, and on Saturday, Feb- 
 ruary 17th, a meeting was called for that purpose. 
 Francis Billington, who was ambitious, was a can- 
 didate for commander of the slender forces of the 
 Pilgrims, citing his services as a member of the 
 king's horse as a qualification for the position; but 
 his claims and his fitness were not sufiicient for 
 his success. Miles Standish, the hero of the 
 Flemish wars, was chosen Captain, with full au- 
 thority to command in all affairs requiring military 
 action. Angry at being defeated, Billington de- 
 clared his determination to return to England. 
 
 "Go! 'twill be a blessing to the colony," an- 
 swered the bluff Stephen Hopkins. 
 
 "I will get justice done me there." 
 
THE DEATH OF ROSE STANDISH 95 
 
 "Marry! 1 doubt if you ever did." 
 
 Billington winced under this keen retort and was 
 about to make some answer, when Mathew Stevens 
 chanced to look upon the hill and espied two 
 Indians. 
 
 "Look! There are natives, " he cried, pointing 
 to the two people on the hill. 
 
 All eyes were turned toward them. 
 
 "By the mass! they signal us to come," cried 
 Billington. 
 
 Then Captain Standish signalled them to come 
 down ; but they would not. 
 
 "Arm yourselves," commanded the captain. 
 "We will stand on our defence." 
 
 The men seized their guns and proceeded to load 
 them. Having their matches lighted. Captain 
 Standish and Stephen Hopkins went across the 
 brook toward the Indians. Hopkins was unarmed; 
 but the captain had his formidable snaphance in 
 his hand, which the Indians noticed. 
 
 "You had better lay down your gun, or they 
 will not suffer us to draw near," suggested Hopkins. 
 
 Standish laid down his gun in sight of the In- 
 dians and once more advanced toward them; but 
 they would not even then suffer the white men to 
 come near them, and as they advanced, the Indians 
 ran away into the forest near, making the old wood 
 resound with their savage war-whoops. 
 
96 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 On his return, Standish recommended that they 
 plant their cannon so as to defend their settlement. 
 Next day Captain Jones and his sailors brought 
 ashore a heavy piece called a minion and helped 
 them drag the gim with another up the hill and 
 mount the pieces. Work was resumed on the 
 houses and fort, which were nearing .completion. 
 
 Their military organization having been inter- 
 rupted by the appearance of the savages, they de- 
 termined, on the 16th of March, to meet again and 
 make it complete. The colony was assembled; 
 but work had scarcely begun, when Mathew, who 
 was on guard, suddenly cried: 
 
 "There comes an Indian!" 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 "From over the hill." 
 
 All could see him now. He boldly advanced 
 toward them, and seemed going toward their 
 houses, but Stevens suddenly arrested his advance. 
 
 "Stop! go no further!" he said. 
 
 He paused, faced the white men and, with a mil- 
 itary salute, to their astonishment, said in English: 
 
 " WelcomeP'' 
 
 "He speaks English!" cried Captain Standish. 
 
 "Where are you from?" asked Mathew. 
 
 "I have been to Monchiggon," wasthe answer, 
 "and I know many English masters who come 
 there to fish." 
 
THE DEATH OF ROSE STANDI8H. 97 
 
 They began to question him, and he continued: 
 
 " I am not of these parts, but of Morattiggon, 
 where I am one of the Sagamores. I have been in 
 this land eight moons. It is five days journey by 
 land to my country." 
 
 "What country is this?" asked Mr. Bradford 
 coming forward to take part in the conversation. 
 
 " This is Patuxet, and about four years ago a 
 plague came among the people, so they nearly all 
 died and there are but few left." 
 
 He told them of the visits of Fernando Gorges' 
 men, and Captain Hunt, who had abducted the 
 Indians, which had infuriated the people. 
 
 They kept the savage two days and then dis- 
 missed him. He promised to come again within a 
 day or two and bring with him some of their 
 neighbors whom he called the " Massasoyts. " 
 
 On Sunday he returned with five more Indians 
 clad in buckskin. They left their bows and ar- 
 rows a quarter of a mile from the camp and evinced 
 the greatest friendship. Their first acquaintance, 
 Samose't, remained behind when the others were 
 gone. He told the English that there was but one 
 of the tribe of Patuxet* left, his name was 
 Squanto, and he had been captured by Captain 
 
 * The chroniclers of the Pilgrims spell this word Pa- 
 tuxet and Patuxat. It is spelled by some authors Patuxent. 
 Either way probably is correct. 
 
 7 
 
98 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 Hunt, taken to Europe, sold in Spain, brought to 
 England, and finally made his way to his own 
 country, to find that the plague had swept away 
 all his tribe. Samoset was sent to find Squanto 
 and bring him in, as the Pilgrims were anxious to 
 meet the only person who had any title to the 
 lands they occupied. While in England, Squanto 
 had lived at Cornhill with Mr. John Slanie, a mer- 
 chant, and could speak a little English. Three 
 other Indians came with them, bringing a few furs 
 to trade with the whites. 
 
 Samoset informed them that the great Sagamore 
 Massasoyt (Massassoit) was near with Quadequina, 
 his brother, and all their men. The Pilgrims 
 were anxious to conclude treaties of peace with their 
 dusky neighbors with whom they hoped in future 
 to live at peace. An interview with the great 
 Sagamore was brought about after considerable 
 trouble. Some presents were exchanged and 
 friendly relations established. 
 
 Mr. Edward Winslow and Mathew Stevens were 
 sent as ambassadors to the king. The' former 
 made a speech, saying that King James saluted 
 him with words of love and peace and accepted 
 him as his friend and ally, and that they desired 
 to see him and "truck" (trade) with him and to 
 confirm peace as his next neighbor. Mathew ob- 
 served that Massasoyt liked the speech, which was 
 
THE DEATH OF ROSE STANDISH. 99 
 
 interpreted by Squanto, their friend and represent- 
 ative. A treaty was finally concluded, of whicli 
 the following is the substance. 
 
 I. That neither he nor any of his should in- 
 jure or do any hurt to any of the English. 
 
 II. That if any of his people did any hurt to 
 any of the English, he should send them the 
 offender, that they might punish him. 
 
 III. That if any of their tools were taken while 
 any of their people were at work, he should cause 
 them to be restored, and if any Englishman did 
 any of Massasoyt's people a harm, they would do 
 likewise with him. 
 
 IV. If any did unjustly war against him, they 
 would aid him. If any did war against the Eng- 
 lish, he should aid them. 
 
 V. He should send to his neighbor confederates, 
 to certify them of this, that they might not wrong 
 the English, but might be likewise comprised in 
 the same conditions of peace. 
 
 VI. That when their men came to them, they 
 should leave their bows and arrows behind them, 
 as they would do with their pieces when they went 
 among them. ^ 
 
 VII. That doing thus. King James would es- 
 teem him his friend and ally. 
 
 The great Sagamore and his people seemed de- 
 lighted with the terms of the treaty. The whites 
 
100 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 were of course pleased with it, for it gave them a 
 promise of peace. 
 
 Squanto and Samoset both became firm friends 
 of the Pilgrims. The doors at Plymouth were 
 always open to them, and the dusky brothers were 
 ever welcome at the white man's board. 
 
 Shortly after the treaty with Massasoyt, the Pil- 
 grims chose Mr. John Carver for their governor. 
 He was the first governor of Plymouth, but dying 
 shortly after his election, William Bradford was 
 selected in his place. The Pilgrims could not have 
 chosen a more wise and upright man. 
 
 As has been previously stated, hardships and ex- 
 posure began to tell at an early date on the unfor- 
 tunate Pilgrims. Almost before the colony was 
 formed, death, which invades alike palace and 
 hovel, was among them, cutting down the young 
 and old. 
 
 Consumption, scurvy, and sickness in almost 
 every form seized them, and at times the able- 
 bodied were scarcely enough to take care of the sick 
 or bury the dead. 
 
 "I believe we will all die," declared Mrs. Brew- 
 ster. " Then there will be no one left to bury the 
 last one." 
 
 Mr. Brewster, who was sustained by an undying 
 faith, answered: 
 
 " Whatever God wills, I obey. If it be His holy 
 
THE DEATH OF ROSE STANDISH. 101 
 
 ■wish that I should find my final resting place in 
 this wilderness, I will not complain." " 
 
 "But to die in the wilderness," sobbed Mrs. 
 Brewster. 
 
 "It is God's wilderness," interrupted Mr. Brew- 
 ster. 
 
 "So far from home and friends." 
 "God is with us. Jesus Christ is our friend." 
 "I cannot abide here. Let us return." 
 "0, my wife, your little faith shames me," 
 replied the stern elder of the Plymouth church. 
 " Do you doubt the goodness and mercy of God ? 
 Eeturn? Whither should we return? To Ley- 
 den, and see future generations grow up weaned 
 from the religion which we hold dearer than life — ■ 
 see them filled with the errors of sin, the loose 
 morals — desecrating the Sabbath, engaging in im- 
 moral pleasures which destroy the soul? No, 
 never! Better death in the wilderness. Should 
 we go to England, would we be permitted to wor- 
 ship God according to the dictates of conscience? 
 No; the true worship of the living God would 
 be exchanged for empty mummery from the lips 
 rather than the heart. Never that. Better death 
 in the wilderness. God is here. God is every- 
 where. Though we are assailed with famine, sick- 
 ness, and death, we have the blessed privilege of 
 ■worshipping Gpd, As Moses led the children of 
 
102 THE PILOBIMS. 
 
 Israel out of Egypt into the wilderness, so come 
 we. They suffered from sickness and famine, and 
 so do we; yet God did sustain them, and will 
 He not sustain us as well? Let us trust in God, 
 and ever remember that though dark the night, 
 the morn will come. Though bitter the bud, the 
 flower will be sweet." 
 
 Mrs. Brewster, quite humiliated by the gentle 
 chiding of her pious husband, buried her face in 
 her hands and sobbed: 
 
 "Forgive me, God, for I am weak! Give me 
 strength according to my day and hour of trial!" 
 
 One of the first homes assailed by the grim mon- 
 ster, was the house of Miles Standish. The sol- 
 dier's beautiful wife, Rose Standish, was the delicate 
 flower which the blasts of New England winter 
 were first to nip. A cough seized on her lungs, 
 and she soon succumbed to it. 
 
 The gallant captain who had never faltered in 
 battle turned pale and trembled with anxiety as he 
 saw his wife day by day growing weaker. At 
 last she was unable to leave her coarse bed of skins 
 and rushes. Tenderly the warrior cared for her, 
 breathing words of hope; but she shook her head 
 sadly and, while the hectic flush illuminated her 
 cheek, answered: 
 
 "No, no, Miles; I can never get well. God 
 has summoned me home. Be as loyal to Him as 
 
THE DEATH OF ROSE STANDISH. 103 
 
 you have been to me. I leave our child to you 
 and you must be father and mother both to her." 
 She ceased speaking, for she had grown very weak. 
 It had been many years since the eyes of the sol- 
 dier had been moist with grief ; but now they grew 
 dim, and the tears rolled down his cheeks. Mr. 
 Brewster and his good wife came to the humble 
 hut in which dwelt the captain and his dying wife. 
 Famine and fever had wasted away her frame. 
 Eose was but a shadow of her former self. She 
 slept on the hard bed, the best her poor husband 
 could afford. Mrs. Brewster carried something 
 under her arm. She saw the dying wife and the 
 weeping husband bending over her and then laid 
 the bundle in his arms. It was a pillow. 
 
 The captain received the gift in silence, and, 
 gently raising his poor wife's head, placed the soft, 
 downy pillow under it. "What luxury! How 
 sweet and soft compared with the hard, coarse 
 bunting and bed of rushes, to which she had been 
 accustomed! This gentle action of love awoke 
 her, and Eose, looking up in her husband's face, 
 smiled. It was the smile of an angel. 
 
 "What have you done, dear husband? Such 
 luxury as this is surely the gift of God. To those 
 who love Chnst, death, even in a wilderness, has 
 no terrors." 
 
 Again she fell asleep. The elder and his wife 
 
104 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 came and knelt by the rude bed with the husband. 
 All silently prayed over the dying woman. 
 
 They watched her through the long night, as her 
 fever rose and fell. Death's dread rattle was in 
 her throat, and slowly her sweet young life ebbed 
 away. All the night long the stern soldier who 
 had so often mocked death was on his knees. All 
 his hopes, his love and ambition were centred in 
 the dying wife. Dark and gloomy was that night 
 of death. 
 
 As day dawned, she opened wide her beautiful 
 blue eyes and, gazing on the face of her faithful 
 husband, murmured: 
 
 " I am still here. I thought I should be gone 
 ere this." After another fitful, feverish sleep, she 
 again opened her eyes and faintly murmured: 
 
 "God bless you — faithful — -loving' — husband; 
 good-by!" In a moment she was among the 
 angels. 
 
CHAPTER YI. 
 
 ALICE. 
 
 I meet her in my raptured dreams ; 
 We rove the sylvan vales and streams, 
 And talk of love and kindred themes, 
 
 And proznise not to sever. 
 Can she, though absent, cheer me so? 
 Has perfect bliss been found below? 
 Can dreams of her, such joy bestow? 
 Then let me dream foi'ever. 
 
 — Paxton. 
 
 The little town of Plymouth began to assume 
 the appearance of a frontier settlement. By June 
 1st, 1621, some of the houses were completed; or 
 at least comfortable. When warm weather came, 
 the mortality was less. Many of the sick recov- 
 ered, and hope sprang up in the breasts of all. 
 
 Their buildings were inferior and rude, and but 
 seven, in addition to their public storehouse, 
 church, and fort, were constructed the first year. 
 The roofs were thatched, the walls of hewn logs 
 cut and notched down. For light at the windows, 
 paper, saturated in linseed oil was pasted over the 
 sash ; for they were without such luxuries as glass. 
 
 105 
 
106 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 On occasions of state, such as the reception of 
 Massassoit, the Indian king, their council chamber 
 was covered with a great green rug and some cush- 
 ions, with other adornments, the handiwork of the 
 wives and daughters of the Pilgrims.* 
 
 Among the few who escaped the ravages of 
 famine and fever was Mathew Stevens. He com- 
 forted the bereaved, cheered the sick, and his 
 helping hand was everywhere turned to aid those 
 in distress. While Captain Standish was in 
 mourning for his wife, Mathew had command of 
 the soldiers, ready to defend the sick Pilgrims. It 
 was well that they had no hostile foe to combat, 
 for they could have made but little resistance. 
 
 The grain planted grew well and gave promise 
 of an abundant yield. The waters supplied them 
 with fish and the forest with game, the trees had 
 assumed their summer garb, and happiness was 
 once more restored to the enfeebled colony. 
 
 As every flock has a black sheep, so had the 
 Pilgrims. Francis Billington seemed to have come 
 on purpose to. keep those devout men of God in 
 constant trouble and turmoil. One always hates 
 those whom he has wronged, and Billington enter- 
 tained a supreme hatred for Mathew Stevens. He 
 
 * There still may be seen in Pilgrims' Hall some fine 
 specimens of needlework, made by the daughter of Miles 
 Standish. 
 
ALICE. 107 
 
 never permitted an opportunity to escape for doing 
 Mathew an injury. The most frivolous matter was 
 sufficient cause for Billington to institute a quarrel. 
 One day tliey quarrelled about some tools. Al- 
 thougli the mattock, spade, and axe were unques- 
 tionably Mathew's, he vowed that they were his, 
 and he would defend his property. 
 
 "They are not yours," Mathew declared. 
 
 "They are," and Billington, being a great 
 swearer, became intensely profane. Mathew 
 offered to arbitrate the matter, but Billington 
 would listen to nothing reasonable. 
 
 "I will have them," he declared. 
 
 It was not until Miles Standish and John Alden 
 threatened to tie him "head and heels," that he 
 would consent to listen to the voice of justice. He 
 gave up the tools, saying: 
 
 "Ye have discomfited me twice; but I will yet 
 have my revenge!" To which Mathew repliea 
 hotly: 
 
 "As you will. If you must have a set-to with 
 swords, I shall not be found wanting in courage to 
 meet you." 
 
 Billington was not one to court open combat. 
 He preferred to gain his revenge by assassination, 
 and had not an event happened soon after this 
 quarrel, which attracted the attention of the whole 
 colony, he might have shot or stabbed the young 
 
108 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 Spaniard in the dark. The next morning after 
 tlie quarrel, tlie village was roused by the ringing 
 of a bell, and hearing the awful cry: 
 
 "Lost! lost! a child is lost!" 
 
 Mathew and Brewster hastened from the house 
 and asked of the first passer-by: 
 
 "Whose child is lost?" 
 
 "It is the son of Francis Billington," was the 
 answer. To which Mr. Brewster said to him- 
 self: 
 
 "The young knave who so nearly blew up the 
 Mayflower, and who has been a constant source 
 of annoyance ever since." 
 
 Billington was in great distress, and in order to 
 create a prejudice against his enemy, and turn his 
 woe to some account, he went about the streets 
 crying: 
 
 "He hath robbed me of my child! He hath 
 robbed me of my child!" 
 
 " Who hath robbed you of your child?" Captain 
 Miles Standish asked. 
 
 "Mathew Stevens." 
 
 "Nonsense; he knows nothing of him." 
 
 Mathew was thunderstruck at the accusation; 
 but Billington kept wringing his hands and repeat- 
 ing that Mathew had stolen his son, until the gov- 
 ernor and Captain Standish told him to cease. 
 
 "Your boy has strayed away and been lost in 
 
ALICE. 109 
 
 the forest. Pray wliat motive would Matliew have 
 for abducting your child?" 
 
 "Eevenge." 
 
 To which Captain Standish answered: 
 
 "Hush! foul slanderer; he would not stoop to 
 so vile a thing. We will make inquiry among 
 the Indians and learn where the boy hath gone." 
 
 Governor Bradford sent Mathew Stevens and 
 John Alden to Massassoit to make inquiry for the 
 lost boy. They brought back the information 
 that he was at Nauset. He had become lost and 
 bewildered in the forest and so wandered for five 
 days living on berries, and reached an Indian 
 plantation twenty miles south of Plymouth called 
 Manomet. The natives at this place conducted 
 him to Nauset, the country where the Pilgrims 
 had had their first encounter with the savages. 
 These Indians still retained a hatred of the Eng- 
 lish, because Captain Hunt had abducted some of 
 their people, and carried them to Europe. Gov- 
 ernor Bradford despatched ten men in a shallop 
 with two guides and interpreters with the eupho- 
 nious names of Tisquantum and Tokamahamon, 
 to go and bring back the lost boy. 
 
 Captain Standish was in command of the ex- 
 pedition, and he made Mathew his lieutenant. 
 Every political or social elevation of Mathew 
 Stevens seemed only to increase the hatred of 
 
110 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 Billington. On the eleventh of Jane, the weather 
 being fair, the expedition set forth. They had 
 net been long at sea, when a thunder-storm arose, 
 with wind and rain, and they were compelled to put 
 into a harbor for the night, called Cummaquid, 
 where they hoped to gain some tidings of the boy. 
 Next day they learned from some savages who were 
 seeking lobsters that the boy was well, and still at 
 Nauset. They were persuaded to land, and the 
 Indians brought their sachem to them, with great 
 crowds of people. Among them was an old. wo- 
 man, who, on seeing the English, began to scream, 
 weep and tear her hair in a most extraordinary 
 manner. 
 
 "What troubles her?" Captain Miles Standish 
 asked through an interpreter. 
 
 The Indian sachem answered: 
 
 " She had three sons, taken by the Englishman 
 Hunt aad sold into slavery in Spain. Being de- 
 prived of their comfort in her old age, she mourns 
 for them." Captain Standish, moved by her grief, 
 said: 
 
 " Tell her that we are very sorry that any English- 
 man should be so cruel. . Mr. Hunt was a very 
 bad man and we all condemn him for what he did. 
 As for us, we would not suffer any injury to be 
 done to you, for all the furs in the country." 
 
 He then gave the mother some small trifles, 
 
ALICE. Ill 
 
 which partially appeased her grief by exciting her 
 curiosity. After dinner they once more pushed 
 out for Nauset accompanied by the sachem and 
 two of his chief men. They landed and sent mes- 
 sengers to the Indians offering to make restitution 
 for the corn they had taken, and also to pay them 
 for restoring the boy. After sunset they brought 
 John Billington to them. 
 
 The young scape-grace, little affected by his long 
 journey in the forest and captivity among the In- 
 dians, evinced no emotion on meeting his father. 
 By a liberal donation of presents, the Pilgrims 
 more strongly cemented their friendship with the 
 tribes and returned to Plymouth. 
 
 Among the Pilgrims early to succumb to the 
 dread disease of consumption and famine, was one 
 William White. Mathew had never been inti- 
 mate with him, as he had not known him until 
 they sailed on the Mayflower. There were a great 
 many Whites in England, and it had never oc- 
 curred to Stevens that this man might be a relative 
 of Alice White. 
 
 The widow of the Pilgrim required the assist- 
 ance of her friends, and the single men of the 
 colony planted her corn, completed her house and 
 did such other work as was needful for the com- 
 fort of herself and children. Mathew, being the 
 best carpenter in the colony, was most frequently 
 
112 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 at the liome of the widow. One day, while at 
 work in the house making some shelves, he asked: 
 
 "Did you oome from London?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Have you always lived in London?" 
 
 "No; we once lived in Lincolnshire." 
 
 "Lincolnshire," said Mathew thoughtfully. "1 
 was once in Lincolnshire. You did not go to 
 Leyden?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Had Mr. White any relatives in Lincoln- 
 shire?" 
 
 "Yes; a sister and a niece." 
 
 Mathew, who was in the act of nailing a board, 
 dropped his hammer and fixed his dark eyes on 
 the widow and asked: 
 
 "What was the name of the sister and niece?" 
 
 "Sarah White and her daughter Alice." 
 
 "Did they remove to London?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Are they still there?" 
 
 "They are." 
 
 "It's the same! It's the same!" cried Mathew, 
 clapping his hands in an ecstacy of joy. 
 
 "Pray, what mean you?" asked the widow. 
 
 He hurriedly explained how he had been res- 
 cued from prison by Alice when she was a little 
 girl, and how romantically they had met in Lon- 
 
ALICE. 118 
 
 don ten years later. He concluded his narration 
 ■with a description of her, and the widow said: 
 
 "It is the same sweet, gentle Alice." 
 
 " They said they were going to emigrate to New 
 England." 
 
 "Such is their intent. They are to come in the 
 Mayflower on her second voyage." 
 
 Alice coming! It was the most glorious news 
 he had heard. How he watched the old ocean, 
 climbing the tallest summit morn after morn, as 
 the rising sun crimsoned hills, valleys and sea, and 
 gazed oceanward in hopes of catching a glimpse of 
 the Mayflower returning from England. Patience 
 and perseverance usually meet their reward. 
 
 Summer glided by like a dream, partly teri'ible, 
 partly pleasant. Autumn came with the fullness 
 and richness of a golden harvest. The fields 
 yielded an abundance of their fruits and the air 
 was burdened with the perfume of ripened plums 
 and wild-flowers. The colony was at peace with 
 the natives, and preparations were being made 
 against the rigors of the coming winter. The hills 
 and forests about them breathed whispers of peace 
 and plenty; the blue skies above were mild and 
 serene. 
 
 It was evening, and the young Pilgrim had again 
 gained the eminence and gazed off to sea, when the 
 moon rose from the water,flooding all the hemisphere 
 8 
 
114 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 with light. Mathew looked — caught his breath for 
 a moment, then shouted with delight and danced 
 for joy. Never did shipwrecked mariner behold 
 with more delight the appearance of a vessel that 
 was to bear him from a desolate island, than did 
 Mathew Stevens discover that sail by moonlight. 
 
 "It has come! The ship has come!" 
 
 He ran down the hill and dashed into the vil- 
 lage, repeating his joyous cry: 
 
 "It has come! It has come!" 
 
 When asked what had come, he merely pointed 
 seaward, and again shouted, "It has come!" 
 
 They understood his meaning, and a boat was 
 made ready to go to the vessel. As nearly every- 
 body expected friends, nearly everybody wanted 
 to go to the ship. The tide being out, and there 
 being not a breath of wind, all knew that the ship 
 could not enter the harbor before morning. Those 
 who did not expect friends, had letters aboard the 
 ship from loved ones at home, and the boat was 
 loaded down. 
 
 Mathew had to make a stubborn fight for a 
 place, but succeeded, and they started toward the 
 ship. It was midnight before the vessel was 
 reached, and they found the emigrants buried in 
 slumber. The Pilgrims gathered in a group on 
 deck to await the dawn. When morning came, 
 there were many glad hearts ; but no one was more 
 
ALICE. ■ 115 
 
 happy tlian Mathew. Alice White and her mother 
 were aboard, and as soon as they awoke he found 
 them and told them that work had already been 
 begun on their house and the ground laid out for 
 their home. To the new comers, the colonists repre- 
 sented the country as a land of wonders. Captain 
 Jones asked Miles Standish how far the forest and 
 hills extended to the west. He answered : 
 
 " I do not know. I have been fifteen miles into 
 those woods and hills, and as far as I could see 
 from where I was, there was a vast forest, the ex- 
 tent whereof I know not." 
 
 Miles Standish knew no more of that great wil- 
 derness stretching across the continent for three 
 thousand miles, than is known of the treasures at 
 the bottom of the ocean. By means of a fair wind 
 and tide, the emigrant ship was brought into the 
 harbor and the emigrants debarked. The shore 
 was lined with boxes and piles of goods, and the 
 settlement presented a lively, bustling scene. The 
 Indians from the distant hills watched with un- 
 easy eyes and anxious hearts. This was but the 
 beginning. That band of white men would in- 
 crease and press the red brother back, until he was 
 swept from the globe. 
 
 Sarah White and her daughter went to live with 
 Mrs. White until their own home could be pre- 
 pared for them. With Mathew Stevens, the con- 
 
116 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 struction of the house was a labor of love. Being 
 the best carpenter in the colony, and having plenty 
 of assistance, he soon prepared the building for 
 Alice and her mother, and they took up their 
 abode at once in their new home. 
 
 Mathew Stevens asked Alice to name the day 
 she would become his wife; but she deferred the 
 matter from time to time. They had had many 
 deaths, two births, but no marriEige in the colony. 
 Mathew was past thirty, a sturdy young fellow 
 with a frame of iron. Alice was twenty-three, 
 and there seemed no obstacle to their union. 
 True, they were poor ; but poverty is no stumbling 
 block in the pathway of love. 
 
 One day, while roaming in the wooded hills 
 amid the rustling of golden leaves, they paused 
 beside a murmuring brook, and, gazing at the 
 limpid stream, he said: 
 
 "Our lives are like those rivulets, gradually 
 running out toward the great ocean of eternity. 
 There is naught to keep these two little streams 
 from uniting their waters and speeding on joyously 
 in a happy union, save the pebble which divides 
 them. Only a pebble prevents our union. Do 
 you love me?" 
 
 He paused for her answer, and Alice, with her 
 head bowed, watched the tiny streamlet. 
 
 "I have answered your question often; yes." 
 
ALICE. 
 
 117 
 
 "Then why not consent to fix the day?" 
 
 She heaved a sigh and, with an expression of 
 mysterious sadness on her face, said: 
 
 "Not now; not now. Bide your time. I will 
 talk with my mother." 
 
 As they rambled down the hillside toward the 
 Puritan village Mathew heard 
 the tread of feet coming behind 
 them, and turning paw the for- 
 bidding countenance of Francis 
 BillingtoD. He had an axe on 
 his shoulder and was wending his 
 way toward the village. 
 He bowed and passed 
 on; but there was some- 
 thing in the man's 
 glance which filled 
 Mathew with uneasi- 
 ness. 
 
 "That man! That 
 man, with a face brim- 
 ming o'er with evil!" 
 gasped Alice. 
 
 " His name is Billing- 
 ton." 
 
 "Billington! Billington! Did you say Billing- 
 ton?" she gasped. 
 
 "Yes, Francis Billington ! " Noticing that she 
 
 He paused for her answer 
 
118 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 shuddered, lie asked: "Did you ever see bim 
 before?" 
 
 "Did lie come from London?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "I — I have seen him." 
 
 Billington had gone before them, disappearing 
 over the hill, and when Alice came in sight of 
 her home, she saw him leaving their cottage. 
 Mathew was so earnestly urging his suit, that he 
 did not see the man as he hastened away. 
 
 "Alice, listen to me! Tell me when you can 
 fix the day. I have the home almost ready," he 
 was saying. 
 
 "Wait, Mathew, until to-morrow." 
 
 "Will you give me my answer to-morrow?" 
 
 "I will talk with my mother to-night." 
 
 He left her at the cottage door, and with a 
 lighter heart, hastened down the hill toward the 
 home of Mr. Brewster. 
 
 He had just crossed the running brook which 
 flowed near the house, when a man, coming down 
 among the trees, called to him. 
 
 "Ho! Mathew, wait a moment." 
 
 He stopped. Francis Billington was coming 
 toward him. He had been to his own house and 
 ran across the hill to intercept him. "Wait, 
 friend Mathew, I would a word with ye." 
 
 Mathew Stevens paused by a large moss-grown 
 
ALICE. 119 
 
 Stone on the banks of the brooklet, and turned his 
 eyes suspiciously on the man. " Nay, Mathew, be 
 not offended at me, fori would be yer friend." 
 
 Mathew had avoided Billington since their quar- 
 rel over the tools. Billington had made strong 
 efforts to reconcile him ; but the young Spaniard 
 had concluded it best to have nothing whatever to 
 do with him. 
 
 "Do ye know the maid whom I saw?" Billing- 
 ton said. 
 
 "I certainly do." 
 
 "How long have ye known her?" 
 
 " Since she was a little girl and set me free while 
 you were drinking in the tap-room." 
 
 It was Billington' s turn to be astonished, and, 
 opening wide his eyes, he said: 
 
 "Did she do it?" 
 
 "She did." 
 
 A single instant his eyes flashed fire; but he re- 
 covered himself and asked: 
 
 "When did ye see her again?" 
 
 "Three years ago in London." 
 
 " Do ye know her mother was a sister of the late 
 William White?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "The mother's name is White?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "The daughter's name is White?" 
 
130 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 "Of course." 
 
 " The mother and brother have the same name, 
 eh? Ah, Mathew, ye must be a dullard not to 
 know that a sister changes her name when she 
 weds." 
 
 "What do you mean?" Mathew demanded, 
 starting to his feet, his eyes flashing with rage. 
 
 "Nay, nay; be calmer. Sit ye down and listen 
 to all I have to say." 
 
 Mathew was induced to listen to him, and just 
 as the golden rays of the setting sun gilded the 
 western landscape, the evil genius of the young 
 Spaniard concluded his long harangue with the 
 following strange but logical argument: 
 
 "The maid to whom ye are betrothed is Alice 
 White; her mother is Sarah White, whose brother 
 was the late William White. Now, verily, where 
 there is so much White, there needs must be some 
 black. Have a care. Alice's mother was White 
 when a maid, is still White. Verily, was she ever 
 married? Have a care — beware of that maid. Be 
 not too hasty to possess a nameless bride!" And 
 having filled Mathew's mind with horrible conject- 
 ures, Billington left him. 
 
CHAPTEE VII. 
 
 THE GEOWING HEMISPHERE. 
 
 Hear, Father, hear thy faint, afflicted flock 
 Cry to thee, from the desert rock ; 
 While those who seek to slay thy children hold 
 Blasphemous worship under roofs of gold ; 
 And the broad, goodly lands, with pleasant airs 
 That nurse the grape and wave the grain, are theirs. 
 
 — Bryant. 
 
 The history of the United States is the warp 
 and woof of a wonderful romance. From Colum- 
 bus to the present is one grandly sublime serial 
 story, each instalment of which is a sequel of the 
 preceding age. Epoch is so linked with epoch, 
 that separation breaks the thread of the romance. 
 
 The destinies of the Spanish, French, Dutch 
 and English are strangely interwoven and, taken, 
 as a comprehensive whole, make up the romance 
 of the New World. 
 
 We have already seen how the Pilgrims were 
 brought into close relations with the Dutch through 
 their banishment from England to Leyden. 
 Though they disapproved the loose morals and 
 
 121 
 
122 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 irreligious customs of the Netherlands, they left 
 many personal friends in Holland. The history 
 of the Pilgrims would be incomplete without some 
 reference to the Dutch. 
 
 As we have so frequently had occasion to refer 
 to the Dutch West India Company, it will, per- 
 haps, be in order at this point in our story to make 
 some explanation of it. In the year 1602, Dutch 
 merchants in the Indian trade formed an associ- 
 ation with a capital of more than a million dollars, 
 under the corporate title of The Dutch East India 
 Company. The government of Holland gave them 
 the exclusive privilege of trading in the Eastern 
 seas between the Cape of Good Hope and the 
 Straits of Magellan — ^that is to say, over all the 
 Indian and South Pacific Oceans between Africa 
 and America. The enterprise was so profitable, 
 that an application was made to the government, 
 in 1607, for the incorporation of the Dutch West 
 Indian Company to trade along the coast of 
 Africa, from the tropics to the Cape of Good Hope, 
 and from New Foundland to Cape Horn along the 
 continent of America. Political considerations 
 arising from some delicate relations in connection 
 with Spain deferred the issuing the charter for 
 such a company for several years. 
 
 It was in the service of the East India Com- 
 pany that Henry Hudson sailed on his famous voy- 
 
THE GROWING HEMISPHERE. 133 
 
 age to discover the northwest passage to India and, 
 while searching for it, discovered the Hudson. 
 Eiver and New York Bay. The rumor that the 
 region discovered by Hudson literally swarmed 
 with fur-bearing animals excited the cupidity of 
 the Dutch, who had recently experienced the pleas- 
 ures of a profitable fur trade which they had 
 opened with northern Eussia. Manhattan Island, 
 at the mouth of the river, was naturally so well 
 adapted for commercial purposes, that it was made 
 the central point where the treasures of the forests 
 and streams were gathered. 
 
 Among the many bold navigators to come to this 
 New World was Adrien Block of the Tigress. 
 Late in autumn of 1613, she lay in New York har- 
 bor laden with valuable furs ready to spread her 
 white wings for her native shore. While the mas- 
 ter and most of the crew were on shore taking a 
 farewell of the friendly Indians, the vessel acci- 
 dentally took fire and burned to the water's edge. 
 For awhile the Dutchmen found shelter in the frail 
 wigwams of the Indians, and then built themselves 
 houses of logs, cut from trees where the ware- 
 houses of Beaver Street now stand. Before spring 
 the oaks that sheltered black bears on the wooded 
 slopes, where the "bulls" of Wall Street now daily 
 combat with the bruins of finance, were converted 
 into a trim and staunch little craft of sixteen tons. 
 
124 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 named the Onrust (Eestless), a prophetic title of 
 the restless activity which two centuries and a half 
 later was to mark the island of Manhattan. The 
 little hamlet built by the shipwrecked Dutchmen 
 was the nucleus of the great metropolis, New York 
 City. 
 
 In the spring of 1614, Block left the island of 
 Manhattan, passed through Hell Gate into Long 
 Island Sound, discovered and explored the rivers 
 Housatonic, Connecticut, and Thames, anchored in 
 the bay of New Haven, touched at Montauk Point 
 on the eastern end of Long Island and landed at a 
 small island further eastward, which Verrazzani 
 had discovered almost fifty years before. He sailed 
 to the shores of all the islands and the main from 
 Narragansett Bay around to Nahant, beyond Bos- 
 ton Harbor. The plague had not yet visited 
 Patuxet, and the country which the Pilgrims six 
 years later found almost depopulated was filled 
 with comely, timid people. Block here fell in 
 with the ship Fortune and sailed to Holland, where 
 he gave the deputies of the Amsterdam company an 
 account of his discovery. It was seen at once that 
 these discoveries were of immense political as well 
 as commercial value. Block was one of the dep- 
 uties who went to the States-General meeting in 
 the Binnenhof . He spread his map upon the table 
 and their value as parts of the territories of the 
 
THE GROWING HEMISPHERE. 135 
 
 Dutch was fully set fortti. The States-General 
 gladly complied with the wishes of the company, 
 and, on the 11th of October, 1614, a charter was 
 given them, duly signed and sealed, by which the 
 petitioners were granted the usual privileges of the 
 ordinance. The territory included in the charter, 
 and which was defined as lying between Virginia 
 and New France, between the parallels of forty and 
 forty-five degrees, was called New Netherland. 
 
 The charter was granted for only four years, at 
 the end of which time the government refused to 
 renew it, as it contemplated the issuing of a larger 
 and more comprehensive charter to a West India 
 Company. Dutch navigators, meanwhile, entered 
 and explored the Delaware Bay and River, prob- 
 ably as far up as the falls of Trenton; and on the 
 site of Philadelphia they ransomed three Dutch 
 traders, who had fallen into the hands of the In- 
 dians. Efl!orts were made to obtain a four years' 
 trading charter for that region also ; but the States- 
 General, considering the domain a part of Virginia, 
 refused to grant it. 
 
 The directors of the New Netherland then prose- 
 cuted their trading enterprises on the borders of 
 the Hudson with increased vigor. They enlarged 
 the Manhattan storehouse, and the little hamlet 
 which Block and his shipwrecked sailors had es- 
 tablished soon grew to a social village. The traders 
 
136 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 went over tlie pine barrens into the Mohawk valley 
 and became acquainted with the powerful Iroquois 
 league of Five Confederate Nations. They built a 
 new fort at the mouth of the Tawasentha, now 
 Normans-Kill, a little below Albany, where a 
 treaty of friendship, which was kept inviolate, was 
 made with the Five Nations. This was the wisest 
 stroke of policy yet made by any European power, 
 for the Iroquois League was powerful enough to 
 have swept every European intruder out of North 
 America. 
 
 The settlements of the Hollanders were too 
 remote from Jamestown to excite the alarm of the 
 English there, and all New England was, up to 
 this time, a wilderness. The Plymouth Company 
 complained that they were intruders on their do- 
 main, and King James made some threats which 
 he never executed. Captain Dermer of an English 
 ship, one fine morning in June, 1619, while on 
 his way to Virginia, sailed through Long Island 
 Sound, lost his anchor in an encounter with the 
 eddies of Hell Gate, and flattered himself that lie 
 was the original discoverer of that "most danger- 
 ous cataract" as well as the flowery islands between 
 which he sailed. On reaching New York Bay he 
 was amazed to see the smoke issuing from Dutch 
 cottages, and to discover quite a village on Man- 
 hattan Island. He did not pause then to interview 
 
THE HOLLANDERS DID NOT, SEEM TO BE IN THE LEAST ALAEMED AT HIS THREATS. 
 
THE GROWING HEMISPHERE. 127 
 
 the intruders, but, on his return, felt it his duty 
 to go in and warn the traffickers to leave his 
 majesty's domain as quickly as possible; but the 
 Hollanders did not seem to be in the least alarmed 
 at his threats. 
 
 "We found no Englishmen here, and we hope 
 we have not offended," a good-natured Dutchman 
 replied to the harangue of the English captain, 
 and the Hollanders went on smoking their pipes, 
 planting their gardens, and catching beavers and 
 otters, as if they had never heard of Captain Der- 
 mer, the "loving subject" of the dread King James 
 of England. The royal bluster which came in 
 fitful gusts from the throne of England did not 
 deter the States-General from helping the Dutch in 
 New Nethei;land, and they proceeded to charter 
 the Dutch West India Company, making it a great 
 commercial monopoly, by giving it almost kingly 
 powers to colonize, govern, and defend, not only 
 the little domain on the Hudson, but the whole 
 unoccupied coasts of America from New Found- 
 land to Cape Horn, and the western coast of 
 Africa, from the Cape of Good Hope far northward. 
 
 In this charter, republicanism was recognized, 
 as the true system of government, in its broadest 
 and purest sense, as the prime element of political 
 strength. Nativity and creed were to be no bar 
 to a stranger. The authors of the Declaration of 
 
138 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 Independence may have drawn some inspiration 
 from this document. 
 
 "Do you wish to build, to plant and to become 
 a citizen?" was the sum total of their catechism. 
 This charter was granted during the first year of 
 the Pilgrims' residence at Plymouth, and it was 
 two years later before the company was organized. 
 
 Meanwhile the Plymouth Company had obtained 
 a new charter as has already been stated. A more 
 tryannical charter with more absolute powers was 
 never granted. Without consent of the Plymouth 
 Company, no ships could enter the harbor on the 
 American coast between New Foundland and the 
 latitude of Philadelphia; not a fish could be caught 
 within three miles of the American coast; not a 
 skin trafficked for in the forest, nor an emigrant live 
 upon the soil. This extraordinary charter was 
 signed by the king a week before the arrival of the 
 Mayflower off Cape Cod with the Pilgrims, and that 
 little colony of heroes, who had braved the terrors 
 of the Atlantic for the sake of freedom, were pro- 
 spectively subjecteii to an almost irresponsible des- 
 potism. The House of Commons, alarmed at this 
 delegation of despotic powers to a grasping corpo- 
 ration, presented the patent as the first of "the 
 public grievances of the kingdom." The French 
 embassador in London protested against it, because 
 Canada was included within the limits of thePlym- 
 
THE GROWma HEMISPHERE. 129 
 
 outh Company's charter, and a little later the 
 captain of the French vessel anchored in the mouth 
 of the Hudson Eiver attempted to set up the arms 
 of France there and take possession of the country 
 in the name of the king. The Dutch were of 
 course very much exercised over the charter, for, as 
 it was literally construed, it robbed them of their 
 possessions in New JSTetherland. Thus we see the 
 land, which, from the first, was regarded as a refuge 
 for the persecuted, torn with factions and held by 
 great grasping corporations more tyrannical than 
 the most despotic monarch. The first emigrants 
 as tenants of the corporators were in fact little bet- 
 ter than serfs; but the new world was growing. 
 The persecuted within the mysterious depths of 
 the great old forests found seclusion, peace and 
 safety, and they came as did the Pilgrims, depend- 
 ing on God. 
 
 At this time there were thousands of refugees 
 from persecution in the Netherlands. Among these 
 was a class called Walloons. The Walloons were 
 of French extraction. They had inhabited the 
 southern Belgic provinces of Hainault, Namur, 
 Luxemburg, Limburg and a part of the bishopric 
 of Liege. When the northern provinces of the 
 Netherland formed their union more than forty 
 years before, these southern provinces, whose in- 
 habitants were mostly Eoman Catholics, declined 
 9 
 
130 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 to join the confederation. There were many Prot- 
 estants in those provinces, and they were made to 
 feel in all its rigor the full effect of Spanish per- 
 secution. Thousands of them fled to Holland, 
 where strangers of every race and creed were wel- 
 come. The Walloons were a hardy race, skilful, 
 industrious and honest, and they introduced many 
 useful arts into their adopted country. 
 
 From Holland the emigration to New Nether- 
 land was a natural result. On a beautiful May 
 morning, the Walloons landed on the rocky shore, 
 where Castle Garden for so long was the first recip- 
 ient of the emigrant. They made a picturesque 
 appearance as they ascended the bank in their 
 quaint costume, every man carrying some article of 
 domestic use, and many a woman carrying a babe 
 or small child in her arms. They were cordially 
 welcomed by the resident traders and friendly In- 
 dians, and under a great tent made of sails a boun- 
 teous feast was spread. After the feast, a minister 
 who was with them offered up a fervent prayer to 
 God. May, the first director, then read his com- 
 mission and formally assumed governorship of the 
 colony and country. In order to secure as wide a 
 domain as possible, the Walloons were sent to 
 different points to form settlements. Some settled 
 on Long Island and founded the city of Brooklyn. 
 Others went up the Connecticut Eiver to a point 
 
THE GROWING HEMISPHERE. 131 
 
 near the site of Hartford and built Fort Good 
 Hope. Others planted themselves in the present 
 Ulster County, New York, and others settled at 
 Albany, where the Dutch erected Fort Orange. 
 Others went to the Delaware and began a settle- 
 ment at the mouth of Timber Creek, on the east 
 side of ttie river, a few miles below the site of 
 Philadelphia, and built a small military station, 
 whicb they called Fort Nassau. The Dutch part 
 of the New World was growing. Shiploads of 
 valuable furs began to reach Holland from New 
 Netherland, and the jealous growls of King James 
 became more ominous. 
 
 In 1626, Minuit, the new governor, arrived at 
 Manhattan in the ship Sea Mew. The first official 
 act of the new governor was to enter into nego- 
 tiations witb the Indians for the purchase of Man- 
 hattan Island, so as to obtain a more valid title to 
 its possession tban that of discovery and occupation. 
 It was estimated that it contained about twenty- 
 two thousand acres of land, and it was purchased 
 for tbe West India Company for a sum amounting 
 to about twenty-four dollars. A fort was built on 
 the lower end of the island, now called the Battery, 
 and named Fort Amsterdam. From this fort the 
 cannon commanded . the entrances to the Hudson 
 and the East Eiver. The town which sprang up 
 about the fort was called New Amsterdam, which 
 
133 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 name it retained until it was surrendered to the 
 English, when the city was christened New York. 
 
 While French and English colonists from free 
 Holland were planting settlements on the Delaware 
 and Hudson Elvers and the borders of Cape Cod 
 Bay, a seed time had begun in that portion of New 
 England soil now covered by the States of New 
 Hampshire and Maine. The sweeping charter, 
 which had met such a storm of opposition in the 
 English House of Commons, brought into Parlia- 
 ment the first general discussion of American 
 affairs. Gorges and Calvert defended the charter, 
 relying on the king's prerogative as the ground- 
 work of their argument. The charter was opposed 
 by those philanthropists. Sir Edwin Sandys and 
 the venerable Sir Edwin Coke, who had been Lord 
 Chief -Justice of England. 
 
 For the good of the public, Sandys pleaded for 
 freedom in fishing and general commerce, which 
 was then becoming a staple wealth of England. 
 "The fishermen hinder the plantations," replied 
 Calvert, a champion of the sweeping charter. 
 "They choke the harbor with their ballast, and 
 waste the forest by their improvident use. Amer- 
 ica is not annexed to the realm, nor within the 
 jurisdiction of Parliament; you therefore have no 
 right to interfere." 
 
 " We make laws for Virginia," another member 
 
THE GROWING HEMISPHERE. 133 
 
 replied. "A bill passed by the Lords and Com- 
 mons, if it receives the king's assent, will control 
 the patent." 
 
 Sir Edward Coke argued, with references to the 
 statutes of the realm, that as the charter was 
 granted without regard to pre-existing rights, it 
 was necessarily void. This attack upon the royal 
 prerogative aroused the angry monarch, who sat 
 near the speaker's chair, and caused him to blurt 
 out: 
 
 "Would you presume on the divine rights of 
 kings?" This so roused the Commons that they 
 passed a bill giving freedom to commerce in spite 
 of the charter. Before the bill had become a law, 
 the king dissolved Parliament and issued a procla- 
 mation forbidding any vessel to approach the shores 
 of North Virginia without the special consent of 
 the Plymouth Company. Francis West was com- 
 missioned Admiral of New England and was sent 
 to protect the chartered rights of the company. 
 The domain to be guarded was too large, and his 
 force was too feeble to seize the fast sailing fishing 
 vessels. At the next meeting of Parliament, a long 
 and bitter discussion ensued on the charter, which 
 Sir Edward Coke declared unconstitutional. A bill 
 granting the right to fish on the shores of New 
 England without consent of the Plymouth Com- 
 pany was passed, though it never received the sig- 
 
134 THE PILORIMS. 
 
 nature of the king. The monopolists, discouraged 
 by the opposition of the Commons, lowered their 
 pretensions, and many of the patentees withdrew 
 their interests in the company. Those who re- 
 mained did little more than issue grants of domain 
 in the northeastern parts of America. 
 
 Among the grants of domain by the Plymouth 
 Company was one to Captain John Mason, who had 
 been governor of New Foundland. It embraced 
 the country in Massachusetts, between Salem and 
 Newburyport, inland to the sources of the Merri- 
 mac Eiver, and all the islands on its sea front, 
 within three miles of the coast. To forestall French 
 settlements in the East, and to secure the country 
 to the Protestants, Gorges procured a grant to 
 Sir William Alexander of the whole main eastward 
 of the St. Croix Eiver excepting a small portion 
 in Acadia. 
 
 Gorges and Mason projected plans for a very 
 extensive colonization. They obtained a patent 
 for the country along the coast of New England, 
 between the Merrimac and Kennebec Kivers and 
 back to the St. Lawrence, under the title of the 
 Province of Laconia. Although settlements were 
 projected and attempted in this country, which was 
 represented as being a veritable paradise, none be- 
 came permanent until about the year 1630. Mason 
 and Gorges agreed to divide their territory at the 
 
THE GROWING HEMISPHERE. 135 
 
 Piscataqua Eiver, and, in 1629, the former ob- 
 tained a patent for the country between that river 
 and the Merrimac and gave it the name of New 
 Hampshire. In« 1631, he built a house at the 
 mouth of the Piscataqua and named the spot Ports- 
 mouth. Having been governor of Portsmouth and 
 Hampshire in England, he transferred these names 
 to the new world. Four years later he died, and 
 his widow attempted to manage his large estates; 
 but they passed into the hands of his creditors. 
 A handful of settlers were left to themselves to 
 fashion an independent State, and, though the 
 growth of the State was slow, there was a steady 
 advancement. There was then only one agricul- 
 tural settlement in all New England, excepting 
 Massachusetts, and scarcely the germ of a State 
 had appeared. Most of the colonists were mere 
 squatters, moving from place to place as game and 
 fish became scarce, and were little better than the 
 aborigines. 
 
 The Plymouth Company neglected their vari- 
 ous plantations, when they found the expense of 
 maintaining them exceeded the income and threat- 
 ened the corporation with financial ruin. Mean- 
 while, the French resolved to maintain their hold 
 on New France, and they were building forts at the 
 mouth of the Penobscot and threatening to seize 
 the territory between that river and the Kennebec. 
 
136 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 To add to the general calamity and gloom which, 
 seemed to overshadow English possessions in the 
 New World, the Indians were showing decided 
 evidences of restlessness, and it required no prophet 
 to predict a general uprising in the near future. 
 
 In 1625, King James died, and his son Charles 
 1. ascended to the throne. His ideas of the divine 
 rights of kings were no doubt inherited from his 
 bigoted father — ideas which had much to do with 
 his downfall. Gorges was summoned before the 
 House of Commons to show cause why his charter 
 should not be revoked. He defended the company 
 against various charges with vigor, until he and 
 his associates perceived that further contention 
 would be useless, and provided for its dissolution. 
 North Virginia was divided into twelve royal prov- 
 inces and assigned to persons named, and at the last 
 meeting in April, 1635, the company caused to 
 be entered upon their minutes the following record: 
 
 "We have been bereaved of friends, oppressed 
 by losses, expenses and troubles, assailed before 
 the Privy Council again and again with groundless 
 charges, weakened by the French and other forces 
 without and within the realm, and what remains is 
 only a breathless carcass. We, therefore, now re- 
 sign the patent to the king, first reserving all grants 
 by us made and all vested rights, a patent we have 
 holden about fifteen years." 
 
THE GROWING HEMISPHERE. 137 
 
 After the dissolution of the company, the king 
 appointed eleven of his Privy Council a "Board of 
 Lords Commissioners of all the American Planta- 
 tions," and committed to them the general direc- 
 tion of colonial affairs. Gorges, who, though sixty 
 years of age, was robust and vigorous in mind and 
 body, was appointed Governor-General of New 
 England, although he never reached America. 
 His nephew, William Gorges, was sent over as hi& 
 lieutenant to administer the government. He made 
 his headquarters at Saco, where he found one hun- 
 dred and fifty inhabitants governed by a social 
 compact. Here he established a regular govern- 
 ment on the 28th of March, 1636, the first within 
 the State of Maine. He formed laws for his col- 
 ony; but they were little heeded in America, for 
 already the inhabitants of the New World had be- 
 gun to scent liberty afar off. Gorges lived eight 
 years in the enjoyment of his vice-royal honors, 
 and soon after his death his possessions in America 
 passed under the jurisdiction of Massachusetts. 
 
 Thxis we find a growing world about the Pilgrim 
 Fathers, which, in the distant future, was destined 
 to swallow them up, forming a great commonwealth 
 of which they were to be a component part. Per- 
 haps this digression has already taken the reader 
 too far from our story, so we will return to it at 
 once. 
 
CHAPTEE VIII. 
 
 THE SKELETON IN THE CLOSET. 
 
 " Life hath its sins. Repent, confess and cleanse thy soul ! 
 No closets build. 
 The closets filled 
 With soft-boned baby skeletons in youth, 
 Will ope some day with ruth 
 To giant skeletons with iron frame. 
 That stalk the heart to rive and tear, 
 And then creep back with care 
 To lie in wait ; some other day to fare 
 Abroad in hand with shame. " 
 
 — Mrs. Prewitt-Doneght. 
 
 On returning from her stroll with Mathew Ste- 
 vens, Alice White found her mother in tears. She 
 opened her eyes wide in wonder and asked: 
 
 " Mother, what is the matter? " 
 
 "Nothing, child." 
 
 How often one tries to conceal a heart-rending 
 burden beneath an ambiguous "nothing." Alice 
 was too shrewd to be deceived. Coming in as she 
 did out of the warm sunlight of Mathew's love, the 
 chilling tears of an unknown grief produced a 
 shock to her nervous system, and poor Alice felt 
 138 
 
THE SKELETON IN THE CLOSET. 139 
 
 as if all her hopes would sink. Going to her 
 mother, she placed her arms about her and cried: 
 
 "Mother, mother, tell me what makes you 
 weep." 
 
 Sarah White brushed away her tears and, with 
 a feeble effort to smile, answered: 
 
 "Oh, child, it is nothing to bother you with; it 
 is really nothing." 
 
 "You need not tell me it is nothing. You are 
 not wont to fall to weeping over nothing." 
 
 " Why should an old woman, whose nerves are 
 shattered as mine are, trouble you with matters 
 which interest you not? " 
 
 With an effort to check her mother's tears, Alice 
 said, "Mother, some one has been here since I 
 left." 
 
 Mrs. White was too truthful to deny the asser- 
 tion. 
 
 "It was the man Billington, the same who used 
 to annoy you in London," continued Alice. 
 
 "You have seen him then? You know he is in 
 America? " 
 
 "Yes; I saw him leave the house as we ap- 
 proached." 
 
 The widow heaved a sigh and said: 
 
 "Don't think of him; he will not, he cannot 
 harm you." 
 
 "Is he the cause of these tears? " 
 
140 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 " Don't think about it, Alice. Oh, my nerves 
 are quite upset." 
 
 "He is the cause, mother; I know it," cried 
 Alice, sinking into a chair and burying her face in 
 her hands. 
 
 " Forget it, Alice. It really does no good to 
 dwell on the subject. What cannot be cured must 
 be endured; so, child, learn to bear your cross 
 with meekness and resignation." 
 
 "What did he say?" 
 
 "I cannot tell." 
 
 For a long time Alice sat with her hands clasped 
 and her eyes raised m mute appeal to her mother's 
 face. She was trying to read her soul. Sarah 
 White, unable to meet the burning gaze of her 
 daughter, averted her head and was silent. Alice 
 at last spoke, and her voice was changed and hol- 
 low as if every word were wrung in agony from a 
 tortured heart: 
 
 "Mother, what is this terrible mystery? Won't 
 you explain it to me; can't you explain it? Why 
 is Francis Billington, like an evil genius, following 
 us wherever we go? Why can we find no city 
 large enough, no forest deep enough to hide us 
 from his evil eyes? Wherever we go, there he 
 is. From Plymouth to the Downs, from the 
 Downs to Lincolnshire, thence to London, he hath 
 pursued us, and when, hoping to find an asylum 
 
THE SKELETON IN THE CLOSET. 141 
 
 in the forests of America, we cross the ocean, lo, 
 we find Mm here. Everywhere we go, wherever 
 we turn we find him there to heap misery on us. 
 Oh, mother, mother, tell me what means all this 
 mystery! " and Alice broke down and sobbed. 
 
 Sarah White was very much agitated ; but she 
 made an effort to seem calm and assured her daugh- 
 ter that they had no cause to apprehend any evil 
 from Billington, though she left the mystery still 
 veiled. A pebble may change the current of a 
 rivulet, a rivulet may alter the channel of a stream, 
 and a stream may sometimes alter the channel of a 
 river; so may a small affair change happiness to 
 misery. A single sigh, a single tear, a frown or 
 an unkind word may drive the sunshine from a 
 happy heart. Already Alice had forgotten how 
 happy she was a few moments before with Mathew 
 at her side, pouring his tale of love in her ears. 
 Darkness and despair now reigned in this young 
 heart, where, but a few moments before, all was 
 joy and sunlight. 
 
 Alice was not the only one who suffered on that 
 night. Mathew Stevens went from the interview 
 with Billington with a load on his heart. At first 
 the shock produced by the suggestion of Billington 
 was so great that it benumbed his sensibilities; 
 but as the stunning effects passed away, a restless 
 uneasiness, the heavy, oppressive feeling of men- 
 
142 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 tal worry, which destroys digestion and makes 
 life miserable, took possession of him. He went 
 home, trying to thrust aside the warning of Bil- 
 lington. 
 
 "He is a knave, very much given to lying," he 
 reasoned with himself. " He never is so happy as 
 when making some one miserable. Billington is 
 one of those persons who serve Satan. I won't 
 believe him. I won't allow my thoughts to dwell 
 on what he has said. I will forget it." 
 
 It was much easier to form the resolution than 
 to carry it out. One is not always master of his 
 own thoughts, and he often found himself recur- 
 ring to the argument of Billington: "She was 
 White before she was married. She is still White. 
 Verily, where there is so much White, there needs 
 must be some black. Was she ever married? " 
 
 He passed a sleepless night, and next day went 
 to his labors with an aching head and a heavy 
 heart. On his way he met his friend John Alden. 
 John was not slow to notice that the face of his 
 friend betrayed care and sorrow. 
 
 "What troubles you, Mathew?" Alden asked. 
 "Hath Alice refused to become your wife? " 
 
 "She will not fix the day," Mathew answered 
 evasively. 
 
 "You have had the courage to tell the maid of 
 your love? " 
 
THE SKELETON IN THE CLOSET. 
 
 143 
 
 "I have." 
 
 "I would that I could do the same," and John 
 heaved a sigh, which startled Mathew. Had he a 
 rival in his friend? Mathew had been trained in 
 
 "What troubles tou, Mathew?" 
 
 a school to which deceit had no admission, for the 
 Pilgrims were blunt and plain spoken people. 
 
 "Do you love her, John? " he asked. 
 
 "Priscilla?" 
 
144 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 "No, Alice White." 
 
 Joliii saw his friend's mistake and, smiling, 
 answered : 
 
 "No, Mathew; I am no rival for that maid's 
 hand." 
 
 "Then why your remark: 'I would that I could 
 do the same? ' " 
 
 " It is not Alice White, but Priscilla Mullins, 
 who hath won my heart," John answered, blushing 
 like a school -boy. 
 
 "Then, John, why do you not tell her so? for, 
 surely, you can win her." 
 
 "Alas, no!" John answered, and, sitting on a 
 log, he took his steeple-crowned hat to fan his 
 heated face. 
 
 "Why not?" asked Mathew. 
 
 "Prythee, sit down, Mathew; I have something 
 to say." 
 
 Mathew Stevens accordingly took a seat by his 
 friend's side, and John resumed: 
 
 " I have a rival for the hand and heart of Pris- 
 cilla Mullins." 
 
 "Who, pray, is this rival?" Mathew asked. 
 
 "It is a rival with whom I am unable to cope." 
 
 There was a look of despair on the honest young 
 Pilgrim's face. Mathew waited a moment, as if 
 reconnoitring the ground before approaching so 
 delicate a subject, and then asked: 
 
THE SKELETON IN THE CLOSET. 145 
 
 "Who is your rival? " 
 
 "Captain Miles Standish. He is lonely since 
 lie laid his beautiful wife Rose in her grave, and 
 now he looks with favor on the beautiful Priscilla." 
 
 Mathew, who had never met a rival in love, or 
 a foe whom he feared in battle, was astonished that 
 his friend should dread even Miles Standish as a 
 rival. 
 
 "You are younger than the captain and, I 
 fancy, more to her liking. Why don't you go in 
 and win her? " 
 
 "I would; but this is a matter of honor," John 
 Alden sighed, giving his head a shake which 
 seemed to emphasize what he said. 
 
 "Woo Priscilla fairly and honorably." 
 
 "How can I? Captain Standish is my friend, 
 he hath confided his love to me, and it would now 
 be base in me to betray him. Not only did he tell 
 me of his love, but asked me to aid him." 
 
 "And what answer did you make in return? " 
 
 "I told him I would." 
 
 Mathew could not clearly see any way out of the 
 difficulty. It looked as if honest John Alden 
 had by his voluntary act lost all chance for win- 
 ning Priscilla. After a few moments, he said: 
 
 "Why did you not tell Captain Standish that 
 you loved Priscilla and wished to wed her your- 
 self?" 
 
 10 
 
146 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 "How could I? Captain Standish is my friend. 
 Since I came to the New World, his roof hath 
 been my home. In danger and sickness he hath 
 been at my side, and he once saved my life at the 
 risk of his own. He told me of his love for Pris- 
 cilla, and asked me to aid him win her, and — I 
 — I — promised to do so." 
 
 A friend of the present day would have given 
 John a look of contempt and dismissed him 
 with a word of ridicule; but Mathew Stevens of 
 old Plymouth was a different species of genus 
 homo from the average young man of to-day. He 
 saw something ridiculous in the cool manner in 
 which his friend had surrendered his sweetheart; 
 but it was a sacred promise and must not be broken. 
 
 "I don't think I would have done so, John," 
 he finally remarked. 
 
 "Do you count friendship for naught? " 
 
 " No; but you go farther than I would, even for 
 a friend. There are bounds at even which friend- 
 ship must call a halt." 
 
 There are some sympathetic natures whose own 
 woes are swallowed up in the misery of others. 
 Mathew was one of that class, and for some time 
 he thought more of John Alden's hopeless love 
 than of his own affairs. 
 
 It was several days before he again met Alice. 
 She seemed to avoid him, and he, as if affrighted 
 
THE SKELETON IN THE CLOSET. 147 
 
 at his own proposal, kept aloof from her. When 
 they met it was by accident. 
 
 There was a world of pleasure mingled with a 
 universe of woe in that meeting. The sight of her 
 vividly recalled to his mind the triumphant leer 
 on the face of Francis Billington, along with his 
 warning: 
 
 "Her mother was White when a maid, is still 
 White. Was she ever married?" 
 
 "Alice," he said with a smile, as he went to 
 her side and sat down on the mossy bank of the 
 brook. The mere breathing of that name conveyed 
 a world of tenderness, and yet she knew not why, 
 she shuddered. He sought to take her hand ; but 
 she gently withdrew it. 
 
 "Have I offended you, Alice? " 
 
 "No." 
 
 "I wanted to see you." 
 
 After a moment's silence, during which the 
 roguish eyes sought the little stream, she an- 
 swered : 
 
 "Why have you kept away? " 
 
 "I did not know that I would be welcome." 
 
 "Mathew, you know you are always welcome." 
 
 Then followed a long silence. A great struggle 
 was going on in Mathew's breast. Should he speak 
 out at once and tell her what Billington had said 
 and at what he had hinted? No, he could not do 
 
148 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 that. It miglit cause her useless grief, annoyance 
 and humiliation. After a few moments he asked : 
 
 "Alice, do you know Francis Billington?" 
 
 She started as suddenly, as if a bombshell had 
 exploded at her feet, while her face turned deathly 
 pale, and she feebly answered: 
 
 "Y-y-yes." 
 
 "Did you know him in London? " 
 
 "I have seen him." 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 " At mother's house. I was never intimate with 
 him, because I never liked him." 
 
 "Does your mother know him? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 She betrayed such an aversion to the subject, 
 that Mathew was constrained to change it. He 
 found the dread and suspicion, which, like an op- 
 pressive weight, had hung over his spirit, diminish- 
 ing; but, brave as he was he had not the courage 
 to advance any further in that direction. There 
 was a grinning skeleton m the closet, and he dared 
 not open the door. After a long silence he 
 asked : 
 
 "Alice, did you tell your mother of our be- 
 trothal?" 
 
 "I have had no opportunity," she answered 
 with a sigh. 
 
 "Why?" 
 
THE SKELETON IN THE CLOSET. 149 
 
 "She has been so busy with other matters; but 
 why need we haste? " 
 
 "Why need we delay? Both of us are young, 
 and it is in the spring-time of life that buds from 
 different trees are engrafted in a parent stem, so 
 they may grow in beauty and harmony with each 
 other. When two branches have grown old and 
 set in their ways, a union is productive of more 
 misery than happiness." 
 
 She made no direct answer to this, but with 
 some evasive response sought to change the sub- 
 ject to something less embarrassing. He was blunt 
 and direct for he had been trained in a school 
 where deceit was unknown. After a few moments 
 he asked: 
 
 "Alice, do you remember your father?" 
 
 "My father?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "No." 
 
 "He died too early for you to remember him? " 
 
 Strange as it may seem, she had never given 
 her father a thought. After a moment's silence — a 
 silence as awkward as it was painful — she answered: 
 
 "I suppose he did." 
 
 "Did you ever hear your mother speak of him? " 
 
 "No." 
 
 There was a strange, embarrassed look in her 
 face, which caused Mathew's heart to sink. 
 
150 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 " Alice, -what was your father's name? " 
 
 "White, of course." 
 
 "His surname?" 
 
 "I don't know." 
 
 "Have you no portrait of him? " 
 
 "I have not." 
 
 "Did you ever hear your mother speak of 
 him?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 Then she fixed her great blue eyes on him and 
 asked: 
 
 "Why all these questions? " 
 
 "I am interested in you, Alice," he answered. 
 " And, being interested in you, it is only natural 
 that I should likewise be interested in your father. 
 Where were you born? " 
 
 "My earliest recollections are of Plymouth, 
 England." 
 
 "How long did you live there? " 
 
 " I do not know. I was quite young when we 
 removed from there to the Downs, where we lived 
 but a short time." 
 
 "Did you see or hear anything of your father?" 
 
 "No; mother was with me all the time, save 
 when I remained a few weeks or months with my 
 uncle William White." 
 
 "Was your uncle William White always living 
 near you? " 
 
THE SKELETON IN THE CLOSET. 151 
 
 "Not all tlie time; but I believe be was most of 
 tbe time." 
 
 " Wben did you go to Lincolnsbire on the 
 Humber where I first met you? " 
 
 "I was but six years old." 
 
 The girl's answers were all frank, free, and hon- 
 est. There was no attempt to evade his questions. 
 Her very look of innocence seemed to defy investi- 
 gation. 
 
 "Alice, when did you first see Francis Bil- 
 lington? " 
 
 "I remember him in Plymouth." 
 
 "Was he a friend of your mother? " 
 
 "No. On the contrary, his presence always 
 seemed to distress her," she answered. 
 
 "Why should it?" 
 
 "Alas, I know not," she answered, tears start- 
 ing to her eyes. "He is a mystery I cannot 
 fathom." 
 
 "Have you asked your mother to explain it? " 
 
 "I have; but I learned nothing save that she 
 fears and hates him." 
 
 Alice was now weeping, and Mathew questioned 
 her no more about family secrets. 
 
 "Don't think I care aught for your ancestry, 
 Alice," he said. "God has intended us for each 
 other, and T would wed you, even though a veil of 
 mystery ten times heavier hung o'er the past. 
 
153 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 Think no more of Billington and mystery, but 
 name at once our wedding day." 
 
 "Not now," slie answered. 
 
 "Why not? You say you love me; why longer 
 delay? " 
 
 "Not now, not now." 
 
 She rose and, wiping away the tears which 
 trickled down her cheeks, started home. Mathew 
 accompanied her to the door of her mother's cot- 
 tage, and then returned to Mr. Brewster's. 
 
 A pair of grayish, basilisk eyes glared at 'the 
 you.ng couple from a thicket as they walked to the 
 cabin, and a hoarse voice hissed: 
 
 "Eevenge is sweet! " 
 
 It was Billington. Satan beheld not the happi- 
 ness of Adam and Eve with more devilish envy, 
 than he noted the love of Mathew. and Alice. 
 
 The mother was not at home when Alice en- 
 tered. She had gone to visit a sick neighbor and 
 did not return until the industrious daughter had 
 spread the snowy cloth and prepared the evening 
 meal. Supper was dispatched in silence, and when 
 the table was cleared away, Alice turned to her 
 mother and asked: 
 
 "Mother, who who was my father? " 
 
 Sarah White fixed her eyes on her daughter and 
 gasped : 
 
 "Who put that into your head? " 
 
THE SKELETON IN THE CLOSET. 153 
 
 "I am no longer a child, but a woman. I have 
 a right to know something of my father." 
 
 "Do not mention the subject now, Alice." 
 
 "But I must, mother." 
 
 "No — no — not now. Wait until some other 
 time; not now." 
 
 "The time has come. You will wrong your 
 daughter by denying her the knowledge she 
 craves." 
 
 "Why, child, why?" and the brilliancy of Mrs. 
 White's eyes startled and almost alarmed Alice. 
 She spoke quickly, and her hot breath came in 
 gasps, while her whole frame trembled with emo- 
 tion. 
 
 "Mother, I must know. An honest man hath 
 won my heart and now asks my hand. Your 
 name is White. Your brother William was named 
 White, you were White when a maid — you are 
 still White. Who was my father? Did I ever 
 have a father? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Tell me all." 
 
 "Never!" 
 
 Alice shrank from the firm, almost fierce glance 
 into a further corner, and for a moment cowered 
 beneath her great flashing eyes. 
 
 "Mother! mother!" she murmured. "Are you 
 mad? are you mad? An honest man hath asked 
 
154 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 my hand. Can I give him a nameless bride? 
 Who am I ? What am I ? Mother, what was my 
 father's name? " 
 
 " Hush ! mention not his name. It is accursed ! " 
 
 "But I must know," she cried in her despair. 
 
 Falling on her knees, the mother raised her 
 hands imploringly to Heaven and, with heart 
 overflowing with anguish, cried: 
 
 "Alice, Alice, don't tear the veil from that 
 hideous secret! Spare me, oh save me, and spare 
 yourself, or you will bring upon your own head 
 the doom which I have so long prayed might be 
 averted! " 
 
 Alice uttered a shriek and, staggering across 
 the floor, fell in a swoon. As her mother raised 
 her in her arms, a hand tore away the paper from 
 the window, an ugly head looked in, and a hoarse 
 voice muttered: 
 
 "The skeleton in the closet. Ha, ha, ha, ha! 
 hear its bones rattle! " 
 
OHAPTEE IX. 
 
 MATHEW MEETS AN OLD FRIEND. 
 
 Friendship, like love, is but a name. 
 Unless to one you stint the flame. 
 The child whom many fathers share. 
 Hath seldom known a father's care. 
 'Tis thus in fi'iendship ; who depend 
 On many, rarely find a friend. 
 
 —Gay. 
 
 The various nations which still pour their emi- 
 gration into the new world had already begun to 
 move that restless tide across the sea. French, 
 Dutch, German, Scandinavian, Pole and Eussian 
 heard of the wonders across the ocean, and all 
 alike were anxious to press forward into this new 
 world and behold its wonders. Nations began to 
 pride themselves on their colonies in the new con- 
 tinent. Scheming monarchs and ambitious nobles 
 laid many plans for extending their power; but 
 to the poor and oppressed, America was ever a 
 land of freedom. 
 
 The Dutch, having founded the New Netherland 
 and the city of New Amsterdam (now New York), 
 155 
 
156 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 began with resistless vigor pushing their explora- 
 tions and traffic in every direction. They even 
 went as far as Narragansett and Cape Cod Bays in 
 search of fur-bearing animals. The growling of 
 the English monarch and the threats of his officials 
 seemed to have little effect on the Hollander, who 
 smoked his pipe on the banks of the' Hudson and 
 pushed out in any direction where beaver or otter 
 might be found. 
 
 Captain Block, who built the first log cabin on 
 Manhattan Island, had discovered the Connecticut 
 Eiver and named it Fresh Water, and as he had 
 looked into the Narragansett Bay, the Dutch felt 
 that they had a legal claim upon those regions 
 according to the English doctrine of the right of 
 discovery. In 1623, three years after the landing 
 of the Pilgrim Fathers at Plymouth Eock, the 
 Dutch "West India Company took possession of all 
 the lands drained by the Connecticut Eiver in the 
 name of the company and of the States-General of 
 Holland. 
 
 For a while a peaceful and profitable trade was 
 carried on with the natives of the Connecticut 
 Valley by the Dutch, and this might have con- 
 tinued had not the latter seized one of their chiefs 
 and demanded a heavy reward for his release. 
 The savages threatened the Dutch with vengeance, 
 and they, becoming alarmed, built a fort for 
 
MATHEW MEETS AN OLD FRIEND. 151 
 
 their protection near the present city of Hartford 
 at a point called "Dutch Point." For a time the 
 whites and red men threatened each other with 
 extermination; but at last the Indians were paci- 
 fied, and at their request the Dutch abandoned 
 the fort. 
 
 A friendly intercourse opened up between the 
 Dutch at Manhattan and the Puritans at New Plym- 
 outh. It was natural that such an intercourse 
 would be friendly, for many of the emigrants to 
 the New Netherland had been personal acquaint- 
 ances and friends of the Pilgrims while at Leyden, 
 and they carried with them that friendly feeling 
 across the ocean. Early in 1637, Isaac de Easieries, 
 secretary of the colony of New Netherland, by 
 order of Governor Minuit, wrote a letter to Gov- 
 ernor Bradford of Plymouth, officially informing 
 him of the founding of a settlement and province 
 on the Mauritius or Hudson's River, and assi^ring 
 him that the Hollanders wished to cultivate friendly 
 and commercial relations with the Pilgrims. Brad- 
 ford returned these friendly greetings and well 
 wishes; but in his reply he warned the Dutch not 
 to occupy or trade in the country north of the 
 fortieth degree of latitude, as that region was 
 claimed by the council of New England. He ex- 
 pressed a wish to maintain friendly relations with 
 the New Netherland, and proposed not to molest 
 
158 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 the Dutch, provided they refrained from trading 
 with the natives on the waters to the very doors of 
 the English. Minuit maintained that the Dutch 
 had a right to traffic with the Narragansetts as they 
 had done for years. 
 
 " As the English claim authority under the king 
 of England," he argued, "so we derive ours from 
 the States-General in Holland." Bradford was 
 in no condition to contend with the Dutch, for his 
 feeble colony could not have resisted their power. 
 He wrote to the Council for New England stating 
 the situation, and concluded with: 
 
 "For strength of men and fortifications, they 
 far excel us in all this land." 
 
 The governor of New Plymouth made no an- 
 swer to Minuit' s letter, and the latter, grown 
 impatient with delay, sent a messenger to New 
 Plymouth to invite Governor Bradford to send 
 a deputy to Manhattan to confer orally with the 
 authorities there. The messenger took with him a 
 "rundlet of sugar and two Holland cheeses" as a 
 present for Bradford, who generously entertained 
 him. It was agreed in that conference that a com- 
 mission should be sent to. New Plymouth to con- 
 fer upon all matters of intercourse. 
 
 Meanwhile, affairs at the colony had gone on 
 without much change. Francis Billington showed 
 his evil nature more every day. In the year 1621, 
 
MATHEW MEETS AN OLD FRIEND. 159 
 
 as Captain Miles Staindish was training a company 
 of Puritan soldiers, preparatory to an expedition 
 into the forest, Billington displayed a spirit of 
 insubordination, quite at variance with the captain's 
 ideas of military discipline. Standish repeated his 
 command. 
 
 "I will not obey," declared Billington, and he 
 walked from the ranks and sat down upon a log. 
 
 "Francis Billington, take your place in the 
 ranks," commanded the captain. 
 
 "I will not," Billington defiantly cried, and 
 gave vent to the most opprobrious language. 
 
 Captain Standish took a step toward him, his 
 face flaming with rage. The rebel started to his 
 feet and, laying his hand on his musket, cried: 
 
 " I warn you, come no nearer, lest I send a bul- 
 let through you! " 
 
 The match in his gun was not lighted, or no 
 doubt he would have carried out his threat; but 
 even had the match been lighted. Miles Standish 
 would not have hesitated. Like a tiger, he leaped 
 at the malcontent and seized him by the throat. 
 
 Billington was a powerful man and struggled to 
 free himself. Mathew Stevens came to the aid of 
 Captain Standish, and they quickly bound the 
 brawling fellow. He was "convicted before the 
 whole company for his contempt of Captain Stan- 
 dish's lawful command with opprobrious speeches; 
 
160 THE PILORIMS. 
 
 for which he was adjudged ta have his neck and 
 heels tied together; but, upon humbling himself 
 and craving pardon, and it being the first offence, 
 he was forgiven." Though Billington was saved 
 from punishment, he never forgave either Standish 
 or Stevens. For revenge on Mathew Stevens, he 
 had a weapon in the mysterious power he wielded 
 over the mother of Alice. 
 
 "They never shall wed," Billington declared. 
 
 Mathew noted a great change in Alice. They 
 met less frequently, and she seemed to avoid him. 
 He mentioned their betrothal one day, and urged 
 her to fix the day for their wedding. 
 
 "No, no; we must wait," she sighed. "I can- 
 not consent to be your bride while a mystery hangs 
 over me." 
 
 Years glided slowly by, the seasons came and 
 passed, and day by day they approached nearer to 
 the shores of that great eternity. They might have 
 wed and lived happily, had she not been too proud 
 to bring to the altar the skeleton of some dead secret. 
 
 Mathew received letters from Holland and friends 
 in England. Through them he learned that Hans 
 Van Brunt had left for New Netherland to build 
 up a home for himself and the girl he loved. 
 When Minuit's messenger came to Plymouth to con- 
 fer with Governor Bradford, he brought a letter 
 from Hans at New Amsterdam. Hans declared: 
 
MATHEW MEETS AN OLD FRIEND. 161 
 
 "We have the most goodly country I have ever seen. 
 Come and live with us, and you shall have all the land 
 you want, and you can bring over Honora Van Buren, 
 who smiles upon you still, from Leyden, to be your wife. 
 Katharine will soon come to America, and it would be a 
 joy to have Honora come with her." 
 
 Mathew signed. The prospective happiness of 
 his friend cast a deeper gloom over himself, for he 
 despaired of wedding the one he loved, and had 
 resolved to pass his life alone. When he met 
 Alice, which was seldom, the meetings were pro- 
 ductive of more pain than pleasure. Though he 
 did all in his power to make her life happy, he 
 avoided her, and she avoided him. Every Sab- 
 bath they met at public worship, and frequently 
 knelt side by side in prayer. On such holy occa- 
 sions they sometimes exchanged glances of fond- 
 ness and regret. Mathew was still Sarah White's 
 best friend. He tilled her corn and planted her 
 wheat; he harvested her grain, and prepared her 
 fuel. This was no easy task, for, as the colony 
 improved, the forest receded, until wood had to-be 
 brought a long distance. 
 
 The year 1627 came with very little change to 
 the colony. King Charles I. had been two years on 
 the throne of England ; but that had no effect on 
 the Pilgrims. Already they had begun to dream 
 of freedom and future greatness. The early au- 
 tumn brought golden grain and smiling prosperity 
 11 
 
163 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 to them. Hundreds of people had emigrated to 
 America to join their brothers who had gone before. 
 The village had grown, and other plantations been 
 formed. Mathew was returning from his labors 
 in the field with heavy heart, although the birds 
 sang gayly, and the abundant harvest should have 
 made all hearts glad. He paused beneath a great 
 oak tree and, wiping the perspiration from his 
 face, heaved a sigh as he gazed toward the home 
 of Alice. 
 
 "Is it never to be? " he thought. 
 
 Suddenly upon the evening air came a blast of 
 trumpets from the shore. Naturally, he was filled 
 with curiosity to know whence issued the sound of 
 those trumpets, and he saw a band of men, quaintly 
 dressed with short breeches, wide-topped boots, or 
 shoes with buckles, wearing broad-bi-immed hats 
 and short cloaks. It was De Easieries' commis- 
 sion, which had arrived with a bark laden with 
 wampum, and other things for traf5&c. Landing, 
 with De Easieries at their head, they awoke the 
 sleeping echoes of the forest with the noise of 
 trumpets. 
 
 At this moment, one of the Pilgrims gave utter- 
 ance to a cry: 
 
 "The Dutch have come! The Dutch have 
 come! " 
 
 Governor Bradford and Captain Miles Standish 
 
MATHEW MEETS AN OLD FRIEND. 163 
 
 made all preparations possible on so short a notice 
 for tlie reception of the commissioners from New 
 Amsterdam. With braying trumpets and loud 
 shouts, the visitors entered New Plymouth and 
 went direct to the governor's house. Suddenly, 
 despite all pomp and ceremony which both parties 
 sought to maintain, a young Dutchman dashed 
 from the ranks of his countrymen and ran to greet 
 a young Englishman, who stood at one side of the 
 path watching the procession. 
 
 "Mathew!" 
 
 "Hans!" 
 
 All efforts to get Hans back into the line of 
 march were unavailing. The friends, separated so 
 long, were clasped in each other's arms, and they 
 little heeded any further ceremony. Mathew took 
 Hans home with him, for they wished to be alone, 
 as they had so much to talk about. As soon as 
 they were safely ensconced in Mathew 's small room, 
 seated side by side on the rude bench which 
 adorned the house of the Pilgrim, Mathew asked: 
 
 "How do you like America? " 
 
 "It is the most goodly country I ever knew, 
 and I have been in Holland, France and England." 
 
 "Is Katharine yet in New Amsterdam? " 
 
 "No; yet she will come," Hans answered. 
 
 " Why will you. not come and live in our country ? " 
 
 ."I have made my home here so long, that it 
 
164 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 would grieve my heart to leave it now," Mathew 
 answered with a sigh. 
 
 "We have many English among ns," said Hans. 
 " There is one I now remember, who was persecuted 
 on account of his religion, for he was a Catholic. 
 He could not live in England any more than a 
 Puritan." 
 
 "Where is he now? " 
 
 "He went to Lord Baltimore's colony in Mary- 
 land, where he belongs." 
 
 " What was his name? " 
 
 "William Eoby." 
 
 "I never knew him," Mathew said. 
 
 " No ; he never went to Leyden, though I believe 
 he was in Eotterdam. I never saw him until we 
 met at New Amsterdam." Th%n Hans went on 
 talking of the Catholic, whom he described as a 
 man who never smiled and would not speak of his 
 past life. So deeply did the young Hollander 
 impress the strange character of the man upon 
 Mathew, that he could not eradicate the recollec- 
 tion of him from his mind. 
 
 The commissioners were hospitably entertained 
 for several days at the table of the governor, where 
 sat Elder Brewster, Mathew Stevens, Miles Stan- 
 dish, Edward Winslow, Dr. Fuller and many other 
 passengers of the Mayjioiver. When the Sabbath 
 came, the commissioners were invited to attend 
 
MATHEW MEETS AN OLD FBIEND. 165 
 
 public worship, whicli they did. Mathew and 
 Hans, who had been inseparable since the arrival of 
 the latter, inarched to church arm in arm, and 
 sat side by side during the service. De Easieries 
 gave a vivid description of the worship of the 
 Puritans in a letter, from which we quote the 
 following: 
 
 " They assemble by beat of the drum, each with his 
 musket or fire-look, in front of the captain's door. They 
 have their cloaks on and place themselves in order, three 
 abreast, and are led by a sergeant without beat of drum. 
 Behind comes the governor in a long robe. Beside him, 
 on the right hand, comes the preacher, with his cloak on ; 
 on the left hand, the captain, with his side-arms and his 
 cloak on and with a small cane in his hand. And so they 
 march in good order, and each sets his arms down near 
 him. Thus they are constantly on their guard, night and 
 day, for fear of the Indians, whose anger they have ex- 
 cited." 
 
 In another letter, the secretary gives the follow- 
 ing graphic description of New Plymouth: 
 
 " It lies on a slope. The houses are constructed of hewn 
 planks, with gardens also inclosed behind and at the sides 
 with hewn timber ; so that their houses and court yards 
 are arranged in very good order, with a stockade against 
 sudden attack. At the ends of the streets are three wooden 
 gates. In the centre, on the cross street, stands the gov- 
 ernor's house, before which is a square inclosure, upon 
 which four swivels are mounted, so as to flank along the 
 streets. Upon the hill they have a large square house 
 with a flat roof, made of thick sawn plank stayed with 
 
166 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 oak beams ; upon the top of which they have six cannon, 
 which shoot balls of four or five pounds weight, and com- 
 mand the surrounding country. The lower part they use 
 for their church, where they preach on Sunday and the 
 usual holidays." 
 
 Such was the capital of the English colony, only 
 six years after the Pilgrims had landed from the 
 Mayflower. Puritanic honesty, industry and love 
 of freedom had already stamped its impress on the 
 ancestors of a future nation. When compared with 
 other colonies, which, like a flickering candle, dwin- 
 dled for years and then went out, one must come 
 to the conclusion that the great and good Creator 
 of the universe gave a special blessing to those who 
 came to build and plant in His name. Only six 
 years in the new world, and the New Plymouth 
 colony had convinced the most skeptical that it 
 had come to stay. 
 
 The commissioners from New Amsterdam opened 
 a profitable trade between the two settlements, 
 which led to the speedy planting of an English 
 colony in the valley of the Connecticut. With a 
 keen eye to self-interest, the Dutch advised the 
 Pilgrims to leave their more sterile soil and make 
 their home in the beautiful and fertile country on 
 the banks of the Freshwater Eiver, under the juris- 
 diction of New Netherland. The fertility of that 
 region was set forth in glowing terms, and the 
 
MATHEW MEETS AN OLD FRIEND. 167 
 
 stories of tlie Dutch were confirmed by native 
 chiefs. A Mohegan sachem, whose council fire 
 was on the eastern banks of the Hudson, four years 
 later visited the Puritan governor, and, with gelf- 
 interest as strong as the Dutch, but rather more 
 artfully concealed, urged the Pilgrims to settle in 
 Connecticut. As an inducement to secure English 
 influence, he offered to give them lands and an 
 annual tribute of corn and beaver skins, if they 
 would do so. The main object of the Mohegan 
 chief was to so plant a barrier between his people 
 and the powerful Pequods, whose seat was on the 
 hills that stretch between New London and Ston- 
 ington. The selfish policy of both parties was 
 readily seen by the Puritans, and they resolved not 
 to be used as cat's paws by either the Dutch or 
 the Indians. 
 
 Stories of "the pleasant meadows " along the 
 Connecticut Eiver excited the attention of the 
 English, so that, in 1632, Edward Winslow vis- 
 ited that region. The country was, in truth, so 
 delightful, that he confirmed all the Dutch traders 
 and embassadors as well as the Indian chiefs had 
 said about it. The fame of the Connecticut valley 
 had already reached old England, and, in 1630, 
 two years before Winslow's visit, the council for 
 New England had granted the soil of that region 
 to the Earl of Warwick. That nobleman conveyed 
 
168 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 his chartered rights to the domain to other parties, 
 among them Lords Say, Seal, Brook, Mr. Salton- 
 stall and others, in 1632. In this conveyance the 
 territory was defined as extending "in a certain 
 width throughout the main lands there, from the 
 western ocean to the South Sea," or from the 
 Atlantic to the Pacific. These parties did not take 
 immediate steps to colonize the Connecticut valley, 
 and the ever vigilant Dutch got there before 
 them. The Dutch purchased the territory of the 
 rightful owners, the Indians, and Commissioner 
 Van Curler completed the redoubt already begun on 
 Dutch Point, named it Fort Good Hope, and armed 
 it with cannon. 
 
 Governor Winthrop was at Boston and Governor 
 Bradford, Edward "Winslow and Mathew Stevens 
 went to him with a proposal for an alliance for the 
 purpose of taking immediate possession of the Con- 
 necticut Valley. Although Winthrop refused to 
 join them in such an enterprise, he thought it nec- 
 essary, in some formal way, to assert promptly and 
 firmly the jurisdiction of the English over the now 
 coveted region. He sent his bark the Blessing of 
 the Bay on a trading voyage along Long Island 
 Sound, her captain bearing a message to Manhattan 
 declaring that the " King of England had granted 
 the river and the country of the Connecticut to his 
 own subjects, and that the Dutch must forbear to 
 
MATHEW MEETS AN OLD FRIEND. 169 
 
 build there." The messenger and his companions 
 were kindly received by Van Twiller, Mimiit's 
 successor, who, in a courteous letter to Winthrop, 
 requested him to defer his pretence or claim to 
 Connecticut, until their respective governments 
 should agree upon the limit of the colonies. At 
 the same time. Van Twiller informed WintLrop 
 that the Dutch had already purchased the soil and 
 "set up a house with intent to plant." 
 
 In romance as in history, an author is sometimes 
 compelled to push one thread of his fabric ahead of 
 the others, for it is impossible to at all times keep 
 the incidents even, especially when there are a 
 great variety of characters to be woven into them. 
 Having sufficiently advanced, for the present, the 
 thread of Dutch and English diplomacy, we will 
 now return to the first Dutch commission at Plym- 
 outh. 
 
 Hans Van Brunt had come to New Plymouth in 
 the hope that the Pilgrims could be induced to take 
 up their abode within the jurisdiction of the Dutch. 
 When they refused, and Mathew informed him of 
 his determination to remain with them, the great- 
 hearted Dutchman felt that his mission was a failure. 
 
 While Mathew and Van Brunt were together, 
 Billington played the part of a spy. Whether 
 alone in the wood or at the home of Mathew, Bil- 
 lington was ever near listening to what they said. 
 
170 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 Having it in his heart to injure Mathew, Billington 
 was getting at his secrets. On the evening before 
 the departure of De Easieries' commissioners from 
 New Plymouth, Billington, meeting Hans alone, 
 said: 
 
 "Come with me! " 
 
 "What would you with me?" asked the be- 
 wildered Dutchman. 
 
 "I would talk with ye." 
 
 Hans could see nothing wrong in conversing 
 with the Englishman, so he followed him to his 
 miserable house. When they entered, Billington 
 made sure that they were alone and, carefully 
 closing the door, bade the Hollander be seated. 
 
 "Know ye a man named Eoby? " he asked. 
 
 Hans fixed his great blue eyes on him, and then, 
 in his Dutch innocence and simplicity, answered: 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Where is he?" 
 
 "I don't know." 
 
 " Are ye quite sure he is not dead? " 
 
 "I know he lives. He may be in Maryland." 
 
 Billington cast a frightened glance about, as if 
 half expecting to see a ghost arise out of the floor, 
 and asked: 
 
 "When did ye last see him? " 
 
 "Less than half a year ago." 
 
 "Then he is not dead," said Billington with a 
 
MATHEW MEETS AN OLD FRIEND. 171 
 
 shudder. Eising from his seat, he paced the nar- 
 row apartment for a moment, and then, resuming 
 the stool, he asked: 
 
 "Where did he go?" 
 
 "I know not; perchance to Maryland." 
 
 "And know ye not where he can be found? " 
 
 " Indeed I do not. He was at New Amsterdam, 
 but went away less than half a year ago." 
 
 Billington seemed not to gain the information he 
 sought, and shortly after his last question he dis- 
 missed Hans. Left alone in his miserable hut, he 
 sat with his head bowed in his hands, his brow 
 contracted, and as a shudder ran through his frame, 
 he hissed in a whisper: 
 
 "He lives! he lives! and I am not safe. No, 
 no; while he lives I am not safe. An ill wind 
 might at any day blow him this way; then all is 
 lost." His face was of a deathly color, and he 
 trembled as if he had seen a spectre. 
 
 Next day Hans and Mathew took a friendly 
 farewell of each other, and the young Dutchman 
 left with the commissioners for New Amsterdam. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE RIVAL OF MILES STANDISH. 
 
 In the old colony days, in Plymouth, the land of the Pil- 
 grims, 
 To and fro in a room of his simple and primitive dwelling, 
 Clad in doublet and hose, and boots of Cordovian leather. 
 Strode, with martial air. Miles Standish the Puritan Cap- 
 tain. 
 
 — Longfellow. 
 
 An author enters on dangerous ground when he 
 attempts to relate what has already become a house- 
 hold story. Who has not heard the romance of 
 Miles Standish, that daring, stern, gallant Puritan 
 captain? His tale of love and disappointment has 
 been repeated at every fireside for many genera- 
 tions, until it is impossible to add new interest to 
 the story. Yet a history of the Pilgrims would 
 not be complete without it. Miles Standish has 
 been made the incarnation of many a subtly-woven 
 fancy; yet it is not all fancy. There are wonder- 
 ful facts in connection with his story, and from the 
 various legends afloat we will attempt to winnow 
 the truth. 
 
 Poor John Alden's heart was breaking. He 
 173 
 
THE RIVAL OF MILES STANDISH. 178 
 
 had come with his friend from old England, had 
 shared the home of the gallant Miles Standish and 
 had mourned with him when he laid his sweet 
 young wife Eose to rest. 
 
 Away back in old England, Alden had learned 
 to love the fair Priscilla Mullins; but the young 
 cooper was so timid and bashful that he dared not 
 tell her. Like most bashful youths, he avoided 
 the object which was to him the greatest attraction. 
 Alden's case seemed hopeless. He had promised 
 Miles Standish to aid him in winning the fair Pris- 
 cilla, and was too honorable to betray his friend, 
 even to save himself from perpetual misery. As 
 he sighed in secret, he sometimes murmured: 
 
 "Priscilla! fairest flower of all New England, 
 must I give thee up forever? " Then, conscience- 
 smitten at even so much as breathing a regret, he 
 cried: "Get thee hence behind me, Satan, I will 
 do my duty! " 
 
 Despite his resolution to do his duty, he could 
 not repress the wish that Heaven would interpose 
 to save him. Such a long period had elapsed since 
 the captain told him of his love for Priscilla, that 
 John Alden dared to hope that Miles had changed 
 his mind; but the love within the heart of the 
 gallant captain had not in the least abated its ardor. 
 Shortly after the departure of the Dutch commis- 
 sioners. Miles Standish said: 
 
174 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 "John, I want you to-day." 
 
 "You have more letters to write, captain?" 
 said John. 
 
 The young cooper was the captain's amanuensis, 
 for the comely young Puritan was the most skilful 
 penman in all New England. 
 
 "Yes," answered Captain Standish. 
 
 "I will be ready to serve you." 
 
 There was something in the manner of Captain 
 Standish, which John Alden did not understand. 
 He shuddered with a vague, unknown dread, just 
 as one sometimes shrinks from an evil which they 
 know by instinct must befall them. 
 
 When alone in the room, Miles Standish said: 
 
 "The ship sails on the morrow for England. 
 Here are many important documents to go. 
 Write letters to these persons on the subjects I 
 have indicated," and he held up before the young 
 Puritan a list of names and the subject matter on 
 which they should be addressed. It was an easy 
 task for so skilful a penman as John Alden, and, 
 breathing a prayer of thanks that the communica- 
 tions had no reference to Priscilla, he set about his 
 task as if it were a labor of love. 
 
 Captain Standish took up his favorite volume, 
 the campaigns of Juli us Csesar, and read in silence. 
 Nothing was heard save the hurrying of the pen of 
 John Alden, hastily writing epistles to go by the 
 
THE RIVAL OF MILES STANDISH. 175 
 
 next ship. "With mind and heart filled with Pris- 
 cilla, every sentence began and closed with her 
 name, until the treacherous pen began at last to 
 disclose his secret; then he stopped, tore out the 
 sheet and quietly destroyed it. 
 
 The story of Mathew Stevens' hopeless love 
 often appealed to him in his hours of bitterest 
 anguish, and he asked himself: 
 
 "Is my misery greater than his? If he bears in 
 silence a grief that must consume his heart, why 
 should not I?" 
 
 Recalled to his task by the captain closing his 
 book, he had once more taken up his pen, when 
 Miles Standish said: 
 
 "When you have finished your work, I have 
 something important to tell you. Be not in haste 
 however so that you slight anything; I can wait; 
 I shall not be impatient." 
 
 Once more John Alden felt his heart sink. In- 
 tuitively he knew that dread announcement of love 
 was coming, and mentally ejaculated: 
 
 "Priscilla, must I give you up! " 
 
 But loyal, even unto death, he hastily finished 
 the last letter, and, folding it, pushed the papers 
 aside to give respectfxil attention. This was an age 
 when people spoke in blank verse. It was an age 
 of Shakespeare, Spencer, and Johnson, when liter- 
 ature, awaking from its long slumber, assumed a 
 
176 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 new and hitherto unknown vigor. It was an age 
 of sentiment as well as rhetoric, for what lover of 
 the present would sacrifice his life's happiness for 
 his friend? Aloud, John Alden spoke: 
 
 "I am always ready to hear what pertains to 
 Miles Standish." 
 
 The captain after a short and embarrassed silence 
 began : 
 
 " The Scriptures say it is not good for man to 
 dwell alone. I have felt the full force and effect 
 of these words of holy writ. Since Eose Standish 
 died of famine and fever, my life hath been a 
 dreary one, sick at heart beyond the healing of 
 friendship. In my loneliness I have turned my 
 eyes in all directions seeking one to take the place 
 made vacant at my hearthstone." 
 
 All hope sank beneath Alden's mental horizon. 
 The dread hour had come. Priscilla, his light, 
 life, hope and joy was lost. Like a condemned 
 criminal, listening to his death sentence, Alden 
 waited for what he knew would follow. Without 
 knowing the agony his words wrung from the heart 
 of his young friend. Captain Miles Standish went 
 on: 
 
 "Oft in my lonely hours have I turned my 
 thought to the maiden Priscilla. She, alone of all 
 I know, is most capable of filling the place made 
 vacant in my home. She is all alone in the world 
 
THE RIVAL OF MILES STANDISH. 177 
 
 as I am. I saw her coming and going, now at the 
 grave of the dead, and now at the bed of the dying, 
 patient, courageous and strong, and to myself I 
 thought her one of the ministering angels of earth. 
 I have long cherished a love for her which I am 
 too cowardly to declare. There is no danger how- 
 ever great which Miles Standish will not defy; yet, 
 when it comes to affairs of love, he is a coward, 
 and dares not speak the dictates of his heart; but 
 in you I have a friend noble and faithful, with a 
 tongue of silver to frame words suited for such a 
 declaration. Go to Priscilla MuUins, and to her 
 say that the blunt old captain, a man of actions 
 rather than words, offers her the heart and hand of 
 a soldier. You are a scholar bred, say it all in 
 elegant language, such as never dawns in the minds 
 of the illiterate." 
 
 When he had finished speaking, John Alden 
 stood aghast, trying to conceal his anguish and 
 dismay. Had his friend given him his sword and 
 told him to plunge it to the hilt in his own heart, 
 the task could not have been performed with more 
 reluctance; but he had given his word, and a Puri- 
 tan's word was as binding as his oath. So long 
 sat he silent and motionless, that the captain, grow- 
 ing impatient at his delay, asked: 
 
 "Have you marked well all I have said? " 
 
 "I have." 
 13 
 
178 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 "And will you bear the message? " 
 
 "I will. Jolin Alden's word once given, he 
 cannot break it. I promised to give you my aid; 
 but then I did not dream that 1 was to be an em- 
 bassador." 
 
 "Do you shrink from the task? " 
 
 "It is an important one, and a great responsibil- 
 ity rests upon me." 
 
 "Yet you can win, John. Your words are al- 
 ways well chosen, and you never en-." 
 
 " In this matter it would be better if you were 
 your own messenger." 
 
 "I am slow of speech; you must do it." 
 
 "Such a message; lam sure I should mangle 
 and mar it; if you would have it well done, 
 you should do it yourself and not leave it to 
 others." 
 
 Standish was not to be turned from his original 
 plan. He insisted on his friend being his embas- 
 sador, and John Alden, having consented, could 
 not back out. 
 
 With a thousand conflicting emotions swaying 
 his tortured soul, Alden set out on his errand — 
 strange errand indeed — to ask one whom he loved 
 more than life to become the wife of another ; but 
 with that firm and unswerving integrity which 
 ever holds the faithful and noble to the path of 
 duty, he set forth on his strange mission. 
 
THE RIVAL OF MILES STANDISH. 179 
 
 Out of the village and into the paths of the 
 forest, those tranquil woods where blue jays and 
 robins were busy preparing nests, and where feath- 
 ered warblers made gladdest music, he strode. 
 The peace and happiness which reigned all about 
 him was in strange contrast with the conflict raging 
 within his breast — love contending with friendship, 
 and self with generous impulse. 
 
 "Must I relinquish all?" he cried with wild 
 lamentation. 
 
 Hope, joy and love were only illusions, bright 
 dreams, fondly cherished, but, alas, only dreams. 
 He loved, waited and worshipped in silence, fol- 
 lowed with flying feet a shadow over the wintry 
 sea to the desolate shores of New England. Oh, 
 cruel, bitter dreams, thrice cruel and bitter the 
 illusive hopes roused in the fond breast to be 
 dashed to earth ! 
 
 Thus, with bitter feelings, the young Puritan 
 strode forth through the wood to the home of the 
 one who held his happiness and destiny in keeping. 
 Journeying on, he saw through an open space the 
 disk of the ocean, sailless, sombre and drear. To 
 the left was a newly-built house, and people were 
 working in the fields. Drawing nearer, he heard 
 the music of the spinning-wheel, which was accom- 
 panied by the sweet voice of the Puritan maid 
 singing psalms. The music of the spinning-wheel 
 
180 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 and the cheerful voice of the worshipper at work 
 are no longer heard in the land. The old-fashioned 
 spinning-wheel, with all its pleasant memories, has 
 been relegated to the attic, where it lingers only as 
 a curious relic of the past. 
 
 Priscilla was seated beside her wheel, with the 
 carded wool like a snow-drift piled at her knee, 
 her left hand feeding the singing spindle, while 
 with her right she guided the motion of her machine. 
 Such was the Puritan girl of the forest, "making 
 the humble house and modest apparel of homespun 
 beautiful with her beauty and rich with the wealth 
 of her being." Never did Priscilla seem so charm- 
 ing as when, in her modest simplicity, she praised 
 God and plied her work. Overwhelmed with de- 
 spair, John Alden paused for a single moment and 
 clung to the door for support. 
 
 Eemembrance of his errand spurred him on, 
 and he entered. 
 
 "Let duty be done, though the heavens fall," he 
 thought, and then, determined to deliver the mes- 
 sage, though it rend his heart in twain, he entered 
 the house. 
 
 With a smile that seemed born in Heaven, Pris- 
 cilla rose and welcomed him to her home, and, 
 taking his hat and staff, laid them away, while she 
 brought such simple refreshments as the Puritans 
 entertained their visitors with. 
 
THE RIVAL OF MILES STANDI8H. 181 
 
 "Do you feel lonely, Priscilla? " he asked, after 
 a brief silence. 
 
 "Lonely, oh, so lonely! " she answered with a 
 sigh. 
 
 Well might she feel lonely, for she had been of 
 all kindred bereft. Her father, William Mullins, 
 one of the signers of the Mayflower compact, had 
 early sickened and died, leaving her alone in the 
 world. 
 
 For a moment, John Alden sat in embarrassed 
 silence, and then, for the want of something better, 
 remarked : 
 
 " You have many friends, Priscilla." 
 
 "Many who are dear to me," she answered, tak- 
 ing up a bundle of wool rolls and- adjusting them 
 so they might be most convenient for her spindle. 
 
 " You know Alice White, the maid of near your 
 own age?" asked John. 
 
 "She is my dearest friend, and, like me, hath 
 had her sorrows, yet I am sure they are different, 
 for there is some strange mystery about her, which 
 I cannot fathom." 
 
 "Why does she not wed Mathew? " 
 
 "She says she will never wed." 
 
 "Yet he loves her." 
 
 " So I have thought, and I believe that his love 
 is returned." 
 
 "Did they quarrel?" 
 
183 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 "I know Bot, yet i*t would seem so." 
 
 Then John Alden, trembling, hesitated on the 
 brink of his strange mission. A little longer would 
 he put off that awful fate. How he dreaded the 
 issue that was to come. 
 
 "Are you satisfied with your New England 
 home? " he asked. To v/hich she answered: 
 
 "I have been dreaming all night and thinking 
 all day." 
 
 " Of what do you think? of what do you dream?" 
 he asked. 
 
 "Of the hedge-rows of England — they are in 
 blossom now, and the country is all like a garden. 
 I dream, I think of lanes and fields and the song 
 of the lark and linnet. I see the village street and 
 familiar faces of neighbors come and go as of old, 
 or stop to gossip together. At the end of the street 
 is the village church, with ivy clinging to the old 
 gray tower, and the quiet graves in the church- 
 yard. The people with whom I live are kind, my 
 religion is dear to my heart, still I grow sad and 
 long to be once more back among the scenes of my 
 childhood." 
 
 John listened in silence to the maid, his gaze 
 fixed on the floor. The supreme moment had 
 come. Duty stared him in the face and said, 
 "Now do or die! " In a voice husky and trem- 
 bling, he made answer: 
 
THE RIVAL OF MILES STANDISH. 183 
 
 "You long to return to England; indeed, I can- 
 not blame you. Stouter hearts have quailed in 
 these trying times. Yours is tender and trusting 
 and needs a stronger to lean on, so I have come 
 with an ofEer of marriage, made by the truest man 
 in all New England, Captain Miles Standish." 
 
 John Alden found it impossible to embellish his 
 theme; for he had to tear the words from his heart. 
 For a brief moment amazement sat enthroned on 
 the face of the Puritan maid. Then, somewhat 
 recovering her self-possession, she said: 
 
 "If Captain Standish is so very eager to wed 
 me, why does he not come himself and take the 
 trouble to woo me? If I am not worth the wooing, 
 surely I am not worth the winning." 
 
 John Alden, in his eagerness to prove the loyal 
 embassador, for the moment forgot his own love 
 and strove to smooth matters over for his friend, 
 making them worse as he advanced: 
 
 " The captain is very busy and has no time for 
 such things himself, so he has deputized me to 
 bear his message." 
 
 The Puritan maid did not fancy being courted 
 by proxy, and the words of the embassador fell 
 harshly on her ear. Swift as flash she made 
 answer : 
 
 "He has no time for such things, as you call it, 
 before marriage, would he find time after the wed- 
 
184 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 dmg? That is the way with you men ; you do not 
 understand us. When you have made up your 
 mind which you will reject and which you will 
 choose, then you make known your desire, and are 
 offended and hurt that a woman does not respond 
 at once to a love of which she never before dreamed. 
 Is this just or right? Surely a woman's affection 
 is not a thing to be asked for and had only for the 
 asking. When one is truly in love, he betrays 
 more by loving actions than words. Had he but 
 waited awhile, had he only showed that he loved 
 me, perhaps — who knows? at last he might have 
 won me, old and rough as he is; but now it can 
 never happen." 
 
 Not until John Alden found his friend's cause 
 failing, did he enter with heart and zeal into the 
 conquest. He no longer thought of himself, but 
 the anguish of a betrayed friend. He pleaded in 
 words tender and eloquent the cause of Miles 
 Standish, and sounded his praises in the ears of the 
 mischievous maiden, who began at last to enjoy the 
 novel experience. At last, when he paused after 
 an eloquent appeal, Priscilla, fixing her roguish 
 eyes on the face of the young diplomat, asked: 
 
 "Prythee, John, why do you not speak for 
 yourself? " 
 
 Like a clap of thunder from a cloudless sky fell 
 those words on the ears of John Alden. Never 
 
'PRYTHEE, JOHN, WHY DO YOU NOT SPEAK POi: YOURSELF ?'' 
 
THE RIVAL OF MILES STANDISH. 185 
 
 was man more supremely happy; never was man 
 plunged in deeper misery. While his heart was 
 bounding at one moment with the joyous knowl- 
 edge that he was beloved, at the next he was tor- 
 tured with the pangs of a guilty conscience for 
 having betrayed a friend. He never had a clear 
 recollection of that interview. Joy and remorse 
 were so intermingled in his heart that his brain was 
 confused, and he could scarcely realize that he was 
 not dreaming. 
 
 " Fierce in his soul was the struggle and tumult of passion 
 
 contending ; 
 LoVe triumphant and crowned, and friendship wounded 
 
 and bleeding." 
 
 How dared he meet Captain Miles Standish and 
 tell him all? So long -had the Puritan captain 
 been accustomed to have his will obeyed, that he 
 never thought for a moment that Priscilla Mullins 
 would reject his suit. He* had forgotten it was 
 "leap year, when English maids have the privilege 
 of wooing." He awaited with some impatience the 
 return of his embassador from the court of cupid. 
 Anon, he saw him coming down the path, with 
 provokingly slow and hesitating tread. Captain 
 Standish, cleaning his lire-lock, waited in patience 
 the arrival of John Alden. 
 
 The embassador entered in silence. The face of 
 Captain Standish was firm, and the scowl of war 
 
186 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 was on his forehead. There was a gathering of 
 men near the church with arms, and from Mathew 
 Stevens John Alden heaxd the rumor of a threat- 
 ened Indian outbreak. A chief, driven to desper- 
 ation by the act of some men, not a party of the 
 Pilgrims, had sent as a challenge a bundle of ar- 
 rows and a serpent's skin. The governor had re- 
 turned the skin of the rattlesnake filled with 
 powder and bullets. 
 
 There was little time for wooing now, yet Cap- 
 tain Standish awaited the report of his embassador 
 before going forth to war. 
 
 " Well, what answer does she make? " he asked, 
 when he entered. 
 
 Then John Alden, as if every word had been 
 wrung in anguish from his heart, told all. Miles 
 Standish listened to the end, and when he con- 
 cluded with Priscilla's words, "Prythee, John, 
 why do you not speak for yourself?" he leaped 
 to his feet with such a sudden start as to make 
 the armor he wore ring from the shock, and in a 
 voice hoarse with rage cried: 
 
 "John Alden, you have betray'ed me! You 
 have betrayed and supplanted your friend. Who 
 could blame me for slaying the man who hath be- 
 trayed me? You, who have lived under my roof, 
 whom I cherished and loved as a brother; you, 
 who have fed at my board and drunk at my cup. 
 
THE RIVAL OF MILES STANDISH. 187 
 
 to wliose keeping I have entrusted my honor, my 
 thoughts and my sacred secret. Oh, woe to the 
 name of friendship hereafter! " 
 
 Having given way to this outburst of rage, he 
 suddenly left the house and hurried to the council 
 of war. 
 
 Alden sat like one crushed and broken with a 
 guilty conscience. Was it a crime to love? Surely 
 one would think so to behold his agony at having 
 loved Priscilla. He could not wholly free his con- 
 science from the thought that he had betrayed his 
 friend. 
 
 Miles Standish with his warriors went to meet 
 and humble the savages, while John Alden, who 
 had never before been left on such expeditions, 
 was ignored. All night he thoiight on the future, 
 and at dawn his resolution was taken. A ship 
 sailed for England that day, and he resolved to go 
 with it. 
 
 Hastily gathering together his few effects, he 
 went to the beach intending to embark. But here 
 he met Priscilla, who, by her artful ways and 
 sweet, encouraging words, induced him to change 
 his mind. Before many days had elapsed, John 
 Alden was the happiest man in the colony. He 
 had spoken for himself and Priscilla had accepted 
 his offer of marriage. 
 
 The wedding of John Alden and Priscilla Mul- 
 
188 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 lins was the first marriage in New England. As 
 the bridal party was returning from church, they 
 met Miles Standish, Mathew Stevens and their 
 warriors just come back from the field of victory, 
 bearing the head of the belligerent chief on a pole. 
 There was a pause, a look of horror on the part of 
 the bridal party and one of surprise on the part of 
 the soldiers. "When the returning victors under- 
 stood what all this rejoicing was about, the ghastly 
 trophy of savage warfare was put out of sight, and 
 the soldiers hastened to extend their congratula- 
 tions to the newly wedded pair. After others had 
 expressed their congratulations. Miles Standish, 
 advancing, took his friend's hand and said: 
 
 " Forgive me. I have been angry and hurt. 
 Too long have I cherished the feeling; I have been 
 cruel and hard; but now, thank God, it is ended. 
 Never so much as now was Miles Standish the 
 friend of John Alden." 
 
 To which Alden answered: 
 
 "Let all be forgotten save the dear old friend- 
 ship, and that shall grow dearer with age 
 
CHAPTEE XI. 
 
 ROGER WILLIAMS. 
 
 Yet better were this mountain wilderness, 
 And this wild life of danger and distress, 
 Watchings by night and perilous flight by day, 
 And meetings in the depths of earth to pray, 
 Better, far better, than to kneel with them, 
 And pay the impious rite, thy laws condemn. 
 
 — Bryant. 
 
 While the private affairs of the principal char- 
 acters in this story were taking those strange shapes 
 by which a capricious destiny moulds and fashions 
 human life, we have seen a nation forming about, 
 them. The individual is so intimately and insep- 
 arably connected with the history of his country, 
 that a complete biography of even the humbles 
 American citizen must necessarily include a portion 
 of his country's history. Every American is part 
 and parcel of this great commonwealth, and his 
 country's destiny is his own, whatever his station 
 in life may be. 
 
 While the colony at New Plymouth was strug- 
 gling in its early existence, some English Puritans, 
 
 189 
 
190 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 restless under the growing despotism of King 
 Charles, .began to turn their anxious eyes to New 
 England. Under White, the Dorchester Company 
 tried but failed to establish a colony at Cape Ann. 
 
 In the year 1630, Winthrop in the Arabella 
 came to the colony of Higginson at Salem, where 
 he found the people wasting away by fever and 
 famine. Not pleased with Salem, Winthrop, on 
 the 17th of June, entered Boston Harbor. He 
 ascended the Mystic several miles and took back a 
 favorable report to Salem. Dudley and others who 
 followed preferred the country on the Charles Eiver 
 at Watertown. By common consent, early in 
 July, the removal of most of the colonists from 
 Salem to Charlestown took place. Although it 
 was the original intention of the emigrants to dwell 
 together, yet, in their distress, they planted wher- 
 ever they were inclined. A few remained at Salem ; 
 others halted at Saugus and founded Lynn. Gov- 
 ernor Winthrop for awhile held his office at Charles- 
 town, where the poor " lay up and down in tents 
 and booths round the hill." 
 
 On the other side of the river, the little peninsula, 
 scarcely two miles long by one broad, marked by 
 three hills and blessed with sweet and pleasant 
 springs, safe pastures and land that promised "rich 
 cornfields and fruitful gardens," attracted, among 
 others, William Coddington of Boston, England, 
 
ROGER WILLIAMS. 191 
 
 who built the first good house there, and who may 
 be regarded as the founder of the great city of 
 Boston. Some planted on the Mystic in what is 
 now Maiden. Others, with Sir Eichard Salton- 
 stall and George Philips, "a goodly minister spe- 
 cially gifted and peaceful in his- place," made theii 
 abode at Watertown; Pynchon and a few with 
 him began Eoxbury. 
 
 Thus began the formation of the Massachusetts 
 colony under Winthrop. The civil government 
 was exercised with mildness and impartiality, yet 
 with determined vigor. Justices of the peace were 
 commissioned with equal powers with those in 
 England over their respective jurisdictions. On 
 the 7th of September, 1630, names were given to 
 Dorchester, Watertown, and Boston, which thus be- 
 gan their career as towns under sanction of law. 
 "Quotas were settled and money levied." The 
 "interloper who dared to confront" the public 
 authority was sent to England, or enjoined to 
 depart out of the limits of the patent. 
 
 The colony was struggling in its infancy, when 
 there appeared on the stage of action a man destined 
 to play an important role in the founding of a 
 nation. Mr. Wilson, the pastor at Boston, was on 
 the point of returning to England for his wife, when, 
 on the 5th day of March, 1631, Roger Williams 
 "with his good-wife Mary" arrived in the colony. 
 
193 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 Eoger "Williams was born in Cornwall, England, 
 in 1599, of Welsh parents. Williams early be- 
 came a Puritan in religion, and aroused tbe oppo- 
 sition of bis father, which resulted in his removal 
 to London, where his promising talents, and espe- 
 cially his remarkable skill as a reporter, gained for 
 him the favorable notice of Sir Edward Coke, the 
 first lawyer of the age. Coke sent him to Sutton's 
 Hospital, a magnificent school of learnnig now 
 called the Charter House. Upon the completion 
 of his preparatory studies, young Williams was 
 admitted to Cambridge University, where Coke 
 himself had been educated, and where liberal and 
 Puritanic sentiments had found a more congenial 
 home than at Oxford. He was matriculated a pen- 
 sioner of Pembroke College, July 7th, 1625, and 
 in January, 1627, he took the degree of Bachelor 
 of Arts. Under guidance of his illustrious patron, 
 Mr. Williams now began the study of law; but 
 theology possessing superior attractions for him, he 
 became a preacher instead of a lawyer. He was 
 admitted to the orders of the church and assumed 
 charge of a parish under a bishop, who, it has been 
 said, "winked at the nonconformists." While 
 here, Williams met many of the leading emigrants 
 to America, including his famous opponent in after 
 years, John Cotton. Even then Williams was very 
 decided in his opposition to the liturgy and hier- 
 
ROGER WILLIAMS. 193 
 
 arcliy of the church, as expounded and enforced by 
 Laud, to escape from whose tyranny he finally fled 
 to America. 
 
 On landing in Boston, Eoger Williams found 
 himself unable to join with its church members. 
 He had separated from the establishment in Eng- 
 land, which wronged conscience by' degrading its 
 scruples. They "were an unseparated people," 
 who refused to renounce communion with their 
 persecutors. He would not suffer the magistrate 
 to assume jurisdiction over the soul by punishing 
 what was no more than a breach of the first table, 
 an error of conscience or belief. They were willing 
 to put the whole decalogue under the guardianship 
 of civil authority. 
 
 Eoger Williams' conduct has been condemned 
 by modern authors of high standing as unnecessar- 
 ily stubborn. Had he lived in the present age, he 
 probably would be denominated a "crank," and 
 his persecution is even yet justified by people of 
 unquestioned ability. Whatever may be said 
 against him, Eoger Williams proved himself a 
 Christian, and, considering the age in which he 
 lived, we must accord his stubbornness to convic- 
 tions of conscience. Of course, one of his belief 
 could not be employed as a minister at Boston, there- 
 fore the church, during the absence of Mr. Wilson, 
 was commended to "the exercise of prophecy." 
 13 
 
194 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 Mr. Higginson, the pastor at Salem, died about 
 this time, and the good people were sadly in want 
 of a teacher. In April, Williams was called to 
 that office. Governor Winthrop and his assistants 
 were not a little astounded at the choice of the 
 people of Salem, and, in a letter to Bndicott, they 
 desired the cTiurch to forbear. Eoger Williams 
 had scarcely entered upon his duties when this let- 
 ter reached Endicott. The pastor was informed of 
 its contents, and, refusing to renounce any of his 
 views, he withdrew to Plymouth. 
 
 Here Eoger Williams formed the acquaintance 
 of Mathew Stevens, then a grave young man, living 
 with Mr. Brewster. His thoughtful face at once 
 attracted the good man. Williams had a tender 
 heart, and, learning the story of the young man's 
 love, sympathized with him. 
 
 Since that awful night years before, when Sarah 
 White, on her knees, implored Alice not to tear the 
 veil from that hideous secret, she had not men- 
 tioned it. The anxious mother noticed how day 
 by day and year by year her daughter grew paler 
 and more melancholy. Many tears were shed in 
 secret, and often on her knees at prayer, she asked 
 God to guide her in this trying hour, when all 
 seemed so gloomy and dark. Like one forlorn and 
 forsaken, beloved but never to wed, Alice went 
 about the daily routine of life. Months and years 
 
ROGER WILLIAMS. 195 
 
 had glided away in New Piymouth, since tlie ter- 
 rible night which she had marked as the period of 
 time when she began her living death. The waves 
 of life which had threatened her frail bark after 
 that awful tempest, had settled back to their usual 
 flow. How imperious, how cold, in utter disregard 
 of all one's feelings, does the bard, uninteresting 
 course of daily realities move on. Still we must 
 eat and drink and sleep and wake again, still plant 
 and gather, buy and sell, ask and answer questions, 
 pursue, in short, a thousand shadows, though all 
 interest in them be over. Alice smiled on the 
 happiness of her friend Priscilla; but the sigh 
 which rose in her throat denied the smile its joy. 
 
 Eoger Williams, deeming it his duty to bind up 
 the broken heart and encourage the disconsolate, 
 no sooner learned that there was a silent grief in 
 the village, than he hastened with his sympathy 
 and prayers to make matters right. 
 
 "It is a hopeless case," Mathew Stevens an- 
 swered to his inquiry of the cause of their estrange- 
 ment. "A cruel fate condemns us to misery. 
 She whom I love is cursed with some withering, 
 blighting secret, which is beyond my comprehen- 
 sion." 
 
 " If you love her, why should secrets or mystery 
 prevent the wedding? " asked Williams. 
 
 "She will not wed until it is cleared away." 
 
196 THE PILORIMS. 
 
 "Who has it in keeping? " 
 
 "Her mother." 
 
 After long contemplating the curious case, Will- 
 iams said: 
 
 "I will see what can be done." 
 
 As Roger Williams was leaving the home of 
 Mathew Stevens, he met Francis Billington so near 
 the house, that a suspicious person might readily 
 conclude that he had been playing the part of an 
 eavesdropper. Years had increased his ugliness. 
 As the soul shines through the face, a vicious 
 man nearly always shows it by his features. One 
 of his front teeth was gone, and his hair had be- 
 come so mingled with white, that it had a grizzled 
 appearance. 
 
 " Ye are going to see Sarah White," said Billing- 
 ton, taking the preacher's arm, and leading him 
 along a forest path near the village as if to impart 
 a secret to him. " Ye are going to ask her why her 
 daughter cannot wed Mathew Stevens? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "It will not serve yer purpose." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " The grave is not more silent than she. Her 
 daughter implored her until she swooned to unlock 
 the secret in her heart. Ye may lacerate the heart 
 which holds the secret, and make it bleed and 
 ache; but it will never be unlocked to ye." 
 
ROGER WILLIAMS. 197 
 
 "What do you know of this?" asked Eoger 
 Williams. 
 
 "Nothing I am at liberty to tell ye." 
 
 Then he slunk away as if his task was done. 
 
 Eoger Williams gave what he had said careful 
 consideration, and decided not to probe for the 
 secret which Sarah White kept locked- securely in 
 her breast. 
 
 It was during the stay of Williams at Plymouth 
 that the Sagamore of the Mohegans invited the 
 English to the valley of the Connecticut. The in- 
 vitation resulted two years later in the emigration 
 of a colony under Hooper into Connecticut, driving 
 their cattle, sheep and swine before them, and halt- 
 ing in the wilderness on the Sabbath day to wor- 
 ship God. Thus they went on moving into the 
 provinces of the Dutch, regardless of the grumbling 
 and threats of the Hollanders. 
 
 In 1633, better auspices and the invitations 
 of Winthrop won new emigrants from Europe. 
 Among them came Haynes, " a man of very large 
 estate and larger affections; of a heavenly mind, 
 and a spotless life." Then also came the most 
 revered spiritual teacher of two commonwealths, 
 the acute and subtile John Cotton, the son of a 
 Puritan lawyer, eminent at Cambridge as a scholar, 
 quick in the nice perceptions of distinctions and 
 pliant in dialects, rather persuasive than command- 
 
198 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 ing, skilled in the fathers and schoolmen, but find- 
 ing all their wisdom compactly stored in Calvin. 
 Thus we find two ecclesiastical giants in the new 
 world — John Cotton and Eoger Williams, and it 
 was only natural that their diversified views should 
 conflict, especially as the liberal views of Williams 
 were so far in advance of the age in which he lived. 
 The liberties he advocated could not be obtained 
 save by a century and a half of time and the shed- 
 ding of blood. 
 
 Thus recruited, the little band in Massachusetts 
 grew more jealous of their liberties. " The proph- 
 ets in exile see the true forms of the house." By 
 a common impulse, the freemen of the towns chose 
 deputies to consider in advance the duties of the 
 general court. The charter plainly gave legislative 
 powers to the whole body of freemen. If it al- 
 lowed representatives, thought Winthrop, it was 
 only by inference, and, as the whole people could 
 not always assemble, the chief power, it was argued, 
 necessarily lay with the assistants. The people 
 reasoned differently however. To check the dem- 
 ocratic tendency, Cotton, on election day, preached 
 to the assembled freemen against rotation in office. 
 The right of an honest magistrate to his place was 
 like that of a proprietor to his fi ihold ; but the 
 electors, now between three and four hundred in 
 number, were bent on exercising "their absolute 
 
ROGER WILLIAMS. 199 
 
 power," and, reversing the decision of the pulpit, 
 chose a new governor and deputy. The mode of 
 voting was at the same time reformed, and instead 
 of the erection of hands, the ballot-box was for the 
 first time introduced into America. Thus "the 
 people established a reformation of such things as 
 they judged to be amiss in the government." It 
 was further decreed that the whole body of freemen 
 should be convened only for the election of the 
 magistrates. To these, with deputies to be chosen 
 by several towns, the powers of legislation and ap- 
 pointment were henceforward intrusted. The trad- 
 ing corporation was unconsciously become a repre- 
 sentative democracy. The law against arbitrary 
 taxation speedily followed. None but the imme- 
 diate representatives of the people might dispose of 
 lands or raise money. Thus early did Massachu- 
 setts echo the voice of Virginia, " like deep calling 
 unto deep." The country was filled with village 
 politicians; "the freemen of every town in the bay 
 were busy inquiring into their liberties and privi- 
 leges." With the exception of the principle of 
 universal suffrage, now so happily established, the 
 representative democracy was as perfect two cen- 
 turies and a half ago as now. Even the magistrates 
 who acted af j,udges held their office by the annual 
 popular choice. "Elections cannot be safe there 
 long," prophesied the monarchists in England. 
 
200 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 The same prediction has been made these two hun- 
 dred and fifty-eight years ; but time has proven the 
 predictors to be false prophets. The public mind, 
 ever in perpetual agitation, is still easily shaken, 
 even by slight and transient impulses; but after all 
 vibrations have passed, it follows the laws of the 
 moral world and safely recovers its equilibrium. 
 
 "The order of the churches and the common- 
 wealths," wrote Cotton to his friends in Holland, 
 "is now so settled in New England by common 
 consent, that it brings to mind the new heaven and 
 the new earth wherein dwells righteousness." 
 
 While the state was thus connecting by the 
 closest bonds the energy of its faith with its form 
 of government, Eoger "Williams, after remaining a 
 little more than two years at Plymouth, accepted a 
 second invitation to Salem. He took an affection- 
 ate leave of Mathew Stevens, John Alden, and 
 Alice White, to whom he had become warmly 
 attached. 
 
 The ministers in the bay and at Lynn met once 
 a fortnight at each other's houses to debate some 
 question of moment and conduct other religious 
 exercises. At one of these meetings, in November, 
 1633, Skelton and Williams took some exception, 
 for fear the custom might grow into a presbytery 
 or superintendency, to the prejudice of liberties; 
 but such a purpose was disclaimed, and all were 
 
ROGER WILLIAMS. 201 
 
 clear that no cliurcli or person can have power over 
 another church. Shortly after Williams read a 
 paper at one of these meetings to prove that a grant 
 of land in New England from an English king 
 could not be perfect, except the grantees "com- 
 pounded with the natives." This theory brought 
 down upon Williams a storm of opposition, the 
 people claiming that such doctrine was treason 
 against the charter. He consented that the offensive 
 manuscript should be burned, and, the court, ap- 
 plauding his temper, declared "the matter not so 
 evil as at first it seemed." 
 
 Williams had aroused the jealousy of his oppo- 
 nents, and as church and state were so closely allied 
 as to make the form of government almost a the- 
 ocracy, a blow at one was a blow at the other. 
 For policy sake the government avoided an explicit 
 rupture with the church of England. Williams 
 would hold no communion with it on account of 
 its intolerance, for he argued: 
 
 "The doctrine of persecution for cause of con- 
 science is most evidently and lamentably contrary 
 to the doctrine of Jesus Christ." 
 
 As the liberties which the people of the United 
 States now enjoy were founded on the doctrines 
 and teachings of the Lord Jesus Christ, one may 
 conclude that the Saviour of mankind was the first 
 to preach the doctrine of civil and religious liberty. 
 
303 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 The magistrates insisted on the presence of every 
 man at public worship. Williams reprobated this 
 law. The worst statute in the English code was 
 that which enforced attendance upon the parish 
 church. To compel men to unite with those of a 
 different creed, he regarded as an open violation of 
 their natural rights. To drag to public worship 
 the irreligious and the unwilling seemed only like 
 requiring hypocrisy. 
 
 " An unbelieving soul is dead in sin," he argued, 
 " and to force the indifferent from one worship to 
 another is like shifting a dead man to several 
 changes of apparel. No one should be bound to 
 worship or maintain a worship against his own 
 consent." 
 
 "What! " exclaimed his antagonists, amazed at 
 the argument he maintained, "is not the laborer 
 worthy of his hire? " 
 
 "Yes, from them that hire him," he replied. 
 
 The controversy finally turned on the question 
 of the rights and duties of magistrates to guard the 
 minds of the people against the corrupting influ- 
 ences, and to punish what to them seemed heresy; 
 The same magistrates who punished Eliot, the 
 apostle of the Indian race, for censuring their 
 measures, could not brook the independence of 
 Williams, and the circumstances of the times 
 seemed to them to justify their apprehensions. 
 
ROGER WILLIAMS. 203 
 
 An intense jealousy was excited in England against 
 Massacliusetts ; "members of the general court, in 
 December, 1634, received intelligence of some of 
 the episcopal and malignant practices against the 
 country." In the earliest years of the Plymouth 
 and Massachusetts colonies, they became a menace 
 to royalty. An English nobleman, a gentleman 
 possessing the wonderful faculty of looking far 
 into the future, prophesied that the English gov- 
 ernment had planted a people across the water that 
 would some day overthrow monarchy in England. 
 Though his prophecy has never been quite fulfilled, 
 America has been a menace to all monarchies. 
 The magistrates were careful to avoid all unneces- 
 sary offences to the English government; but at the 
 same time they were consolidating their own insti- 
 tutions and even preparing for resistance. It was 
 in this view that the freeman's oath was instituted, 
 by which every freeman swore allegiance not to 
 King Charles, but to Massachusetts. 
 
 Thus the sons of freedom began to build barriers 
 of independence against the crowned heads of the 
 old world. The seed of freedom began to sprout 
 in the soil of the New "World, and in course of 
 time it burst forth in that glorious flower of free- 
 dom, the Declaration of Independence. 
 
 The most determined of Williams' opponents 
 was John Cotton. It might have been jealousy 
 
304 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 mingled with Cotton's idea of right, that made him 
 the persecutor of Williams. Eoger Williams not 
 only declared for intellectual liberty, but preached 
 the doctrine of the Anabaptists. His schismatic 
 theories were seditious and, considering the times, 
 really dangerous. He had many followers, some 
 of whom had come with him from New Plymouth. 
 At last, on the 9th of October, 1635, the following 
 order for his banishment was spread upon the 
 records: 
 
 " Whei'eas, Mr. Eoger Williams, one of the elders of the 
 church of Salem, hath broached and divulged new and 
 dangerous opinions against the authority of the magis- 
 trates, as also writ letters of defamation, both of the 
 magistrates and churches here, and that before any con- 
 viction, and yet maintaineth the same without any re- 
 traction, it is therefore ordered that the said Mr. Williams 
 shall depart out of this jurisdiction within six weeks now 
 next ensuing, which if he neglects to perform, it shall be 
 lawful for the governor and two of the magisti'ates to send 
 him to some place out of this jurisdiction, not to return 
 any more without license from the court. " 
 
 Williams had so many friends that it was not 
 until after a severe struggle and all the influence 
 of both Governor Winthrop and John Cotton had 
 been brought to bear, that a decree like the above 
 could be obtained. This decree was obtained in 
 October, yet through all November and December 
 Williams remained in defiance of it. Many friends 
 
ROGER WILLIAMS. 205 
 
 tastened to him with sympathy and condolence. 
 Mathew Stevens, Alice White, and others came all 
 the way from Plymouth to Salem to express their 
 regrets and urge him either to return to Plymouth 
 or defy the law. 
 
 " You will find an abundance of supporters ready 
 to draw their swords in your defence," argued 
 Mathew. 
 
 "Nay, nay, my friend; my master said to his 
 would-be defender, 'Put up thy sword into the 
 sheath; the cup which my Father hath given me, 
 shall I not drink it? ' I make the same mild re- 
 quest, and, could I do so, would heal any of the 
 wounds of my enemies. I will not go to England, 
 but seek a place in the wilderness, where freedom, 
 sublimity and God alone dwell. Gro back to your 
 homes — make each other happy. Farewell." 
 
 On their return to New Plymouth, Mathew re- 
 called the remark of Williams. 
 
 " Will you obey? Will you make me happy? " 
 he asked. 
 
 Fixing her sad blue eyes on his face, she an- 
 swered: 
 
 "Wait, Mathew; that cloud may yet clear away. 
 Wait, hope and pray." 
 
 Three months had elapsed since the decree of 
 banishment had been issued against Eoger Will- 
 iams. He was still at home, and the magistrates 
 
306 
 
 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 determined to arrest the malefactor and send him 
 to England. 
 It was evening, the 15th of January, 1636. A 
 
 warm fire was 
 ■^t ' burning on 
 the hearth of 
 Roger Williams. 
 His young wife, 
 with her babe on 
 her knee, was at 
 his side, when 
 there came a rap at 
 ■'^x the door. He rose 
 and, opening the 
 He took shelter in a hollow tree, door, aiscovereu. 
 
' GO, ROGER WLLLIASIS, FLY AT ONCE ! " 
 
ROGER WILLIAMS. 207 
 
 Jolin Wheelwright, a silenced preaclier, and Mrs. 
 Annie Hutchinson, whose faces betrayed the great- 
 est excitement. 
 
 "Go, Eoger Williams, fly at once! " cried the 
 excited woman. "Captain Underwood has just 
 landed in a pinnace to arrest you and take you 
 back to England in the morning." 
 
 Wheelwright confirmed what she said. They 
 had learned from a sailor that the plan was to 
 arrest Williams at daylight. There was not a 
 moment to be lost. The banished man clasped his 
 wife and child a moment in his arms, then, with a 
 small bundle of clothes and provisions and no 
 weapon save his good stout staff, he set forth into 
 the stormy night. 
 
 The night was dark, the wind howled and flapped 
 his cloak against his person, while the snow in 
 eddying whirls almost blinded him. He felt the 
 biting frost nipping his fingers and piercing his 
 garments, yet he resolutely set his face westward 
 toward the wilderness and pushed on. 
 
 All night and most of next day he wandered 
 through an uninhabited forest in a snow storm. 
 When he became so tired and benumbed he could 
 not go any further, he took shelter in a hollow tree, 
 where he found a goodly store of nuts provided by 
 wild animals. When night came, he again set 
 forth into the wood, and had not gone far, when 
 
208 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 he espied a light in the distance. Through the dark- 
 ness and falling snow he crept to it, and it proved 
 to be the camp fire of some Wampanoags who had 
 been on a hunt. Eoger "Williams, while at Plym- 
 outh, had befriended some of these Indians and 
 was well known to them. They took him to their 
 village where he remained several days, nursing 
 his frozen feet and fingers. "While here he was 
 joined by several of his friends who went into 
 voluntary exile with him, and they were furnished 
 a guide to the Narragansetts. 
 
 "The ravens," declared Williams, "fed me in 
 the wilderness," and, in requital for the hospitality 
 of the Indians, he was ever through his long life 
 their friend and benefactor, the apostle of Chris- 
 tianity without hire, or weariness, or impatience at 
 their idolatry, the pacificator of their own feuds, 
 the guardian of their rights, whenever Europeans 
 attempted an invasion of their soil. 
 
 "With tbe few followers who had overtaken him 
 in the wilderness, he began to build, first at 
 Sekonk; but, learning that it was within the terri- 
 tory covered by the patent of Plymouth, he decided 
 to go further. At about this time he received a 
 letter from Grovernor "Winthrop, who, after all, 
 seemed to retain a kindly feeling for the exile, 
 advising him to steer his course to the Narragan- 
 sett Bay as it was free from English claims and 
 
ROGER WILLIAMS. 209 
 
 patents. Williams took his advice and, in June, 
 with five companions, embarked on the stream in 
 a frail Indian canoe. 
 
 The spot where they first landed in the new ter- 
 ritory, Williams gave the name of Providence, in 
 token of God's mercy. Here a colony was estab- 
 lished and named Ehode Island, from the name 
 first given the country by the Dutch, "Eoode 
 Eylandt," meaning Eed Island. Admirers and 
 friends came from Massachusetts and Plymouth to 
 the new colony, where absolute freedom of con- 
 science was allowed. IVTrs. Hutchinson and others, 
 banished from the Massachusetts colony for advo- 
 cating too much liberty of conscience, also emi- 
 grated to Ehode Island. The colony became pros- 
 perous, and, in course of time. Providence was a 
 neat little town, fast growing to a city, and Eoger 
 Williams, the exile, obtained a patent for the 
 colony, now a State, founded in sorrow and perse- 
 cution. 
 
 It was for many years an asylum for the perse- 
 cuted from Massachusetts, and Eoger Williams, the 
 founder, is one whose name will be revered by a 
 grateful people as long as this, the smallest state 
 in the great Union, is remembered. 
 14 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE SOLDIER HAS WORK. 
 
 A garland for the hero's crest, 
 
 And twined by her he loves the best : 
 
 To every lovely lady bright, 
 
 What can I vi^ish but faithful knight? 
 
 To every faithful lover too, 
 
 What can I vpish but lady true? 
 
 —Scott. 
 
 While human passions were busy; while fugi- 
 tives from persecution in turn became persecutors, 
 and drove men into the wilderness for daring to 
 exercise the religious rights which they them- 
 selves had crossed the seas to obtain, the age of 
 reason dawned on New England. The very year 
 that Roger "Williams was sent into exile, Mr. John 
 Harvard founded Harvard College, to day the old- 
 est institution of learning in America. The sturdy 
 Puritans, while contending with jealous kings, 
 torn by internal factions, and fighting the Indians, 
 found time to plant colleges and seminaries of 
 learning. The age of reason had dawned, and out 
 from the ashes of fiery disputes and persecutions 
 
 210 
 
THE SOLDIER HAS WORK. 311 
 
 came the phoenix of truth. The dawn of reason 
 marked the awakening of liberty- in thought and 
 speech. The awakening was slow, but sure, and 
 the hardy pioneers of Massachusetts and the New 
 England colonies were the ancestors of the men and 
 women who first demanded and obtained liberty. 
 
 Mathew Stevens, still at Plymouth, sought 
 solace from his sorrow in work and speculation. 
 Heaven seemed to favor him, for his accumulations 
 became large. His trade with the Indians was 
 lucrative, and the wealth which he affected to de- 
 spise poured in upon him, far surpassing his wild- 
 est hopes. Of what good was wealth now? He 
 had no ambition for what Alice could never share 
 with him. 
 
 A few months after the banishment of Eoger 
 Williams, a messenger arrived from Boston with 
 the alarming intelligence that the governor of 
 Massachusetts had determined on hostilities against 
 the Pequod Indians on Block Island. The Indians, 
 who had murdered Captain Stone two years before, 
 had further roused the whites, in July, 1636, by 
 killing John Oldham, an enterprising trader from 
 Massachusetts. 
 
 Mr. Hooker, with a large colony, had emigrated 
 from Massachusetts to the Connecticut valley. In 
 Hooker's colony there were many friends and rela- 
 tives of the people in both Massachusetts and New 
 
313 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 Plymouth, and it was but natural that the promise 
 of a Pequod uprising should fill the people of both 
 colonies with the gravest apprehensions. It was 
 thought necessary for the English, by one strong 
 blow, to show their power, and thus intimidate 
 both the Pequods and Dutch, who still claimed 
 Connecticut as a part of the New Netherland. 
 Such a warlike expedition, had been planned, and 
 the messenger was in fact but a recruiting officer 
 come to swell the ranks of the army for the cam- 
 paign. 
 
 Mathew Stevens was the first to enlist. By 
 nature he was a soldier, and his sword had long 
 rusted in its scabbard, and he was eager to draw it 
 in defence of humanity. Besides, a brisk campaign 
 might give him rest from the keen sorrows which 
 were weighing him down. Next day, with a few 
 others, he was to set out for Boston to engage in 
 the Indian war. He had not seen Alice since 
 that journey in which she bade him wait and hope. 
 
 He had waited, hoped and prayed; but he was 
 seemingly as far from happiness as ever. He re- 
 solved on that last evening to pay her one more 
 visit. Years had begun to tell on the Pilgrim. 
 Though his frame had lost none of its youthful 
 vigor, his dark hair was becoming flecked with 
 gray. 
 
 Going to the cottage, he learned that Alice was 
 
THE SOLDIER HAS WORK. 213 
 
 not at home, but would soon return. That sad, 
 
 mysterious mother whom he had so long a'voided 
 was alone. Sarah White was paler and more worn 
 than when he had first met her. She never had 
 been pretty ; but her whole life, which had been a 
 succession of pious works and efforts to shake off 
 some shadow, had eventually cast over her a cer- 
 tain whiteness and brightness, and, in growing 
 older, she had acquired what may be called a 
 beauty of goodness. What had been thinness in 
 her youth had, in her maturity, become transpar- 
 ency, and through this transparency the angel could 
 be seen. Yet, with all the goodness by which she 
 seemed blessed, there was something so mysterious 
 about her, that Mathew involuntarily shrank away. 
 
 " Alice has gone across the street to Mr. Alden's, 
 and will return in a moment. Won't you sit and 
 wait?" 
 
 A plain, straight-backed chair was handed him, 
 and, with corrugated brow, the Puritan sat down 
 to wait, while Sarah White busied herself about 
 her household duties. In a few moments Alice 
 came in at a brisk pace. She was a charming 
 blonde with handsome teeth. She had gold and 
 pearls for her dower ; but the gold was on her head 
 and the pearls were in her mouth. She had ad- 
 vanced in life, and the innocent beauty of child- 
 hood had given place to the matured loveliness of 
 
214 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 womanhood. Despite the flight of years, and that 
 harrowing secret, which hung like a pall over her, 
 Alice did not seem older to Mathew than when 
 he met her that day in London. 
 
 She expressed some surprise at seeing him ; but 
 the smile on her face had the warmth of welcome 
 in it. As soon as they were alone he said: 
 
 "Alice, I am going away." 
 
 " Going away? " she repeated, in a voice indicat- 
 ing both surprise and regret. "Where are you 
 going? " 
 
 "To the war with the Pequods," he answered. 
 
 Then for a long time they sat in the little room, 
 neither speaking. The shades of twilight gathered 
 about the cottage and crept into the dingy little 
 apartment. At last he spoke: 
 
 "Alice." 
 
 She made no answer, for she was lost in a sad, 
 painful reverie. He drew her to his side, and took 
 one of her hands in his, in that old, loving way. 
 
 She made no answer to his call, and he said no 
 more; but both sat motionless as old Plymouth 
 Eock. 
 
 After a long time the mother entered the room 
 to light a candle. Then they were roused from 
 their strange reverie. Having lighted the candle, 
 Sarah White left them, and Mathew, now that the 
 spell was broken said: 
 
THE SOLDIER HAS WORK. 315 
 
 "Alice, I am going away in the morning." 
 
 "When will you return?" she asked. 
 
 " I know not; when a soldier goes to war he may 
 never return." 
 
 She shuddered and, clinging to him, asked: 
 
 "Why need you go? " 
 
 " Some one must, and it may as well be I as 
 any; but let us not comment on that. It is already 
 decreed that I go, and I may never return." 
 
 Clinging fondly to him, she murmured: 
 
 "Mathew, forgive me." 
 
 " Forgive you, Alice? Why should I forgive you? 
 What have you done that you need my forgiveness?" 
 
 "I have made your life miserable. I have been 
 so strange, so mysterious, have rejected your love 
 so long; but, believe me, Mathew, it was for your 
 own good and happiness that I did it." 
 
 "Say no more about it, Alice. You have done 
 nothing for which I need forgive you, and if I 
 have suffered, you have suffered as well." 
 
 They fell to discussing the future, a future so 
 dark that scarce a ray of hope could penetrate it. 
 They parted at the gate, in that same old, loving 
 way, before they had been tried by the withering 
 blasts of sorrow, and Alice, retiring to her room, 
 threw herself on her couch, and sobbed: 
 
 "Cruel, cruel fat^! He may never come back 
 again.'' 
 
216 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 Mathew hastened to the home of Mr. Brewster. 
 The good man was still awake, waiting for him. 
 
 "You go away to the war in the morning?" 
 asked Mr. Brewster. 
 
 "I do." 
 
 "Let me this lesson enjoin on you. Be a brave 
 but gentle soldier. The bravest are the most 
 humane, and those who would conquer must take 
 the mild precept of Prince Emanuel for their 
 guide." 
 
 "I sometimes fear that I do not fully appreciate 
 those gems of truth which are such consolation to 
 you," answered Mathew sadly. 
 
 "Why? You are not a backslider? " 
 
 "No; but temptations continually rise before 
 me. I am so sorely tried that sometimes I yield. 
 I have not the forbearance of Job, for I sometimes 
 lose my temper and fall." 
 
 Mr. Brewster bowed his head and slowly made 
 the following philosophical answer: 
 
 " Knowing your heart tnals, I sympathize with 
 you ; but you must ever bear in mind that man has 
 upon him the flesh, which is at once his burden 
 and his temptation. He carries it with him and 
 yields to it. He should watch, restrain and repress 
 it, and only obey it in the last extremity. In this 
 obedience there may still be a fault; but the fault 
 thus committed is not venial. It is a fall, but a 
 
THE SOLDIER HAS WORK. 217 
 
 fall on the knees, which may end in prayer. To 
 be a saint is the exception, to be a just man is the 
 rule. Err, fail, sin, but be just. The least pos- 
 sible amount of sin is the law of man ; no sin at all 
 is the dream of angels. All that is earthly is sub- 
 jected to sin, for it is a gravitation. If a man in 
 that spirit falls, he will rise in triumph. He falls 
 in weakness; he rises in glory." 
 
 Mr. Brewster expressed rather liberal views for 
 a Puritan this evening; but "he knew that his 
 strange "doctrine would not be misconstrued by his 
 hearer, and he had more of the love of Christ in 
 his heart than many of the professed followers of 
 the Saviour. 
 
 Mathew rose early next morning and joined the 
 small band of recruits that had been mustered to 
 set out for Boston. When they were ready to 
 start some one said : 
 
 "We have no captain. Let us choose one from 
 among ourselves." 
 
 "Is not Captain Standish going with us? " asked 
 another. 
 
 " No; it has been thought best that he remain at 
 hoine; for if the Narragansetts enter into an alli- 
 ance with the Pequods, our own homes may be 
 threatened." 
 
 " Whom shall we choose for our captain ? " 
 
 "Mathew Stevens," some one cried. Before 
 
218 
 
 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 Mathew could realize what his comrades were about, 
 he had been selected as captain of the expedition. 
 
 They embarked in a pinnace, and, with fair wind 
 and tide, sailed to Boston. When they reached 
 the little town, they found it in a great state of 
 excitement. Three vessels were getting ready to 
 sail for the seat of war. Drums were beating, 
 trumpets sounding, and the New England volun- 
 teers were parading the streets of the village with 
 as much pomp as if they composed a vast army at 
 
 a grand review. The re- 
 cruits from New Plym- 
 outh were greeted with 
 cheers, and their choice 
 of Mathew as their cap- 
 tain was sanctioned. 
 
 They were only a 
 dozen in number, rather 
 a small force to have a 
 captain over them, yet 
 Endicott, the comman- 
 der of the expedition, thought best to let them 
 serve as an independent company. 
 
 The troops were marched aboard the vessels 
 lying in the harbor ready to sail. In a few mo- 
 ments, amid well wishes of friends, cheers, and 
 booming of cannon from the stockade, they set sail 
 for the seat of war, 
 
THE SOLDIER HAS WORK. 219 
 
 It will be well at this point to give, for the 
 reader's benefit, something of the situation of the 
 English in Connecticut, which we will proceed to 
 do while the fleet of Endicott is sailing to the seat 
 of hostilities. In the very morning of the colonial 
 era of Connecticut, dark clouds gathered black and 
 threatening, and for awhile a storm impended, 
 which threatened to sweep the little English settle- 
 ments out of existence. The fiery Pequods had 
 become jealous of the English, becaiise the latter 
 appeared to be on friendly terms with the Mohe- 
 gans on the West and the Narragansetts on the 
 East, both of which nations were hereditary ene- 
 mies of this warlike tribe. At this time the famous 
 Sassacus was chief or Sachem of the Pequods. 
 He was cool, calculating, treacherous, haughty, 
 fierce and malignant and the dread of all the 
 neighboring tribes. He ruled over twenty-six 
 Sagamores, or inferior princes, and his domain ex- 
 tended from Narragansett Bay to the Hudson Eiver 
 and over Long Island. His bravery won the un- 
 bounded admiration of his warriors, of whom 
 almost two thousand were ready to follow him, 
 whithersoever he might lead. 
 
 Seeing the power of the few English in the gar- 
 rison at Saybrook, and dreading the strength and 
 influence of more who would undoubtedly follow 
 them, he resolved to exterminate the intruders. 
 
220 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 By every art of persuasion and menace, he tried to 
 induce the Mohegans and Narragansetts to become 
 his allies. The united tribes could have put four 
 thousand warriors in the field at any one time, 
 while among all the English in the Connecticut val- 
 ley, there were no more than two hundred and fifty 
 men capable of bearing arms. How easily those 
 fierce pagans might have annihilated the whites! 
 
 The wily Pequods did not declare war at once, 
 but came to it by degrees, moving cautiously. At 
 first they were sullen and kept aloof from the set- 
 tlers. Then they kidnapped children, and finally 
 murdered the Englishmen when found alone in the 
 forest or on the waters, and destroyed or made 
 captive whole families on the borders of the settle- 
 ments. It became apparent that the Indians in- 
 tended to exterminate the English in detail, and 
 terror reigned throughout the valley. The capture 
 and murder of Oldham was the final climax and re- 
 sulted in the warlike expedition, in which Mathew 
 Stevens took part. 
 
 The vessels sailed into Long Island Sound. It 
 was night when they came to Block Island, and 
 moored their barks on the end opposite the Indian 
 villages. Every precaution was taken not to alarm 
 the foe, and the troops were landed and formed for 
 the attack. 
 
 Mathew, with his small command and a trusty 
 
THE SOLDIER HAS WORK. SSI 
 
 guide, set out as an advance gaard for the little 
 army. Nothing broke the silence save the steady 
 tramp of feet, and clank of arms and armor. The 
 night was still and all the stars shone brightly from 
 the heavens. There was no moon; but the stars 
 gave sufficient light to enable them to pick their 
 way through the forest. 
 
 At last the guide halted and said: 
 
 "Just over the hill is the village." 
 
 Mathew ordered his small command to halt, and, 
 grounding their muskets, they awaited the arrival 
 of the main force. The eastern horizon was tinged 
 with the first faint streaks of dawn, and as Mathew 
 watched the increasing light, he reflected that with- 
 in an hour they would be plunged into a terrible 
 conflict with a savage foe. Some must fall; per- 
 chance he would be one of the number. 
 
 Silently he breathed a prayer to God for his soul 
 and for Alice. His silent invocation was scarcely 
 over, when the main body of troops arrived. 
 
 By this time it was broad day, and Endicott de- 
 termined to make the attack at once. Already the 
 Indians wei-e astir. The chirp of robins, whistle 
 of blue jays and chatter of squirrels made the 
 forest seem peaceful and gay. There was no warn- 
 ing to those unfortunate natives soon to be swept 
 from the earth. Mathew Stevens, with his own 
 men and eight more, was left to attack the lower 
 
222 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 town, while the main force went to attack the larger 
 village farther up the island. Stevens was ordered 
 to wait until he heard the firing at the upper town, 
 and then to pour in a volley and fall upon the sav- 
 ages from every quarter. 
 
 While Mathew was watching the Indian town 
 from his ambuscade he espied a beautiful Indian 
 maiden beating hominy in a mortar outside of the 
 nearest cabin. Doubtless she was preparing the 
 morning meal. In a few moments she was joined 
 by a young man, probably her lover, who placed 
 his arms about her waist, playfully slung her about, 
 and then assisted her with the pestle. While thus 
 engaged in this sort of dalliance, wholly unsus- 
 picious of danger, the rattling ctash of firearms was 
 heard not more than two miles up the river. The 
 moment had come; the matches of Mathew's sol- 
 diers had for some time been burning, and he gave 
 the command: 
 
 "Fire!" 
 
 Like a peal of thunder, a score of muskets rang 
 out on the air, and the Indian lover fell a corpse 
 beside his dusky sweetheart. Ere she could re- 
 cover sufiiciently from the shock produced by this 
 sudden attack to realize from whence the danger 
 came, the Indian maiden was made captive. 
 
 Mathew, at the head of his party, charged into 
 the town. He fired his pistols as he ran, and a 
 
THE SOLDIER HAS WORK. 
 
 223 
 
 stalwart warrior who had snatched his bow from 
 his wigwam as he ran, fell pierced by one of his 
 bullets. The savages were taken completely by 
 surprise and made little resistance. They aban- 
 doned their wigwams which were soon in flames, 
 and fled to their canoes, pursued by Mathew and 
 his victorious troops. The English clubbed their 
 guns and knocked two or 
 three on the head and run 
 others through with swords ; 
 but most of the Indians 
 escaped in their canoes. 
 The English stood on the 
 shore firing at them until 
 they were out of musket 
 range. 
 
 After destroying three 
 or four old canoes, they 
 returned to the town. The 
 wigwams were set on fire, and from the smoke in 
 the direction of the upper town, it was evident that 
 it also was in flames. Nothing more remained to 
 be done at this place, and Mathew took up his line 
 of march to join Endicott. On the way he met 
 the main force at a cornfield, which they proceeded 
 to cut down. 
 
 The expedition had not accomplished much. 
 The two insignificant villages were destroyed, a 
 
 Indian maiden beatino hominy 
 
324 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 few Indians killed, and the standing corn destroyed; 
 but the victory was small at best. Then they went 
 over into the main land of the Pequods and de- 
 manded the murderers of Oldham and the other 
 whites, threatening the whole country with destruc- 
 tion if their requests were not complied with. The 
 Indians held their demand in contempt. So they 
 burned one or two villages, killed five more sav- 
 ages, and turned to Massachusetts. 
 
 Mathew Stevens, with his small band, boarded 
 the pinnace and sailed for Plymouth. Nearing 
 the village, the eyes of the Spaniard saw some one 
 standing on the rock. It was a woman. 
 
 "Alice, awaiting my return," murmured the 
 soldier, a smile like a beam of sunlight spreading 
 over his face. 
 
CHAPTEE XIII. 
 
 GOOD FOR EVIL. 
 
 When all the fiercer passions cease 
 
 (The glory and disgrace of youth) ; 
 When the deluded soul in peace, 
 
 Can listen to the voice of truth ; 
 When we are taught in whom to trust 
 
 And how to spare, to spend and give 
 (Our prudence kind, our pity just) , 
 
 'Tis then we rightly learn to live. 
 
 — Crabbe. 
 
 The Hollanders and Puritans played a sharp 
 game of diplomacy and soft words for possessions 
 in the Connecticut valley. The initial Yankees 
 outwitted the Dutch, and the Plymouth people 
 outgeneraled those" in Boston. There was a tribe 
 of Indians at Plymouth banished from the Connec- 
 ticut valley by the Pequods. They still had their 
 chief and preserved their tribal organization, and 
 from them the Pilgrims purchased a tract of land 
 above the Dutch fort Good Hope. A house was 
 framed and stowed away on board a ship com- 
 manded by Mr. William Holmes. In this bark 
 15 325 
 
326 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 sailed a remnant of the Connecticut tribe, and a 
 few Englishmen, who had determined to locate in 
 the valley of the Connecticut. 
 
 As they passed Fort Good Hope, they were 
 hailed by the officer of that garrison with: 
 
 "Where are you going, and for what purpose? " 
 
 "Up the river to trade," answered Holmes. 
 
 The Dutch, who had become jealous of their 
 possessions in Connecticut, feared they were going 
 to settle rather than trade. 
 
 " Heave to! " shouted the commander of the gar- 
 rison, standing by a heavy gun. "Heave to, or I 
 will shoot! " 
 
 "I must obey my commands," the captain an- 
 swered, and boldly stood up the stream. 
 
 The Dutch commander blustered and raged, but 
 did not shoot. The English landed in the purchased 
 territory, erected their house and took possession of 
 the country. They palisaded their house, mounted 
 two cannon for its defence, and sent the vessel 
 back. This house was erected on the site of 
 Windsor in Connecticut. 
 
 Van Twiller, the fat clownish governor, who 
 was made the butt of ridicule even by his own 
 countrymen, heard of the intrusion, and as he had 
 been instructed by the home government to hold 
 Connecticut at all hazards, he sent to Holmes a 
 peremptory order to depart with all his people and 
 
GOOD FOR EVIL. 237 
 
 possessions from that Dutch domain. To this de- 
 mand, Holmes replied : 
 
 " I am here in the name of the king of England, 
 whose servant I am, and here I will remain." 
 
 This bold intrusion, in addition to the Hooker 
 invasion, did not make the Hollanders very anxious 
 to mix in the Pequod war which threatened the 
 extermination of the English within their own 
 domain. 
 
 The expedition to Block Island only tended to 
 rouse the indignation of the Pequods, who began 
 to plan a war of extermination. The hated Eng- 
 lish, who were gradually encroaching 'on their 
 rights, must be driven from the country and the 
 land of their fathers redeemed. 
 
 Fearing they were not strong enough themselves 
 to accomplish their plans, the Pequods sent ambassa- 
 dors to the monarch of the Karragansetts, urging 
 him to join them at once in a war of extermina- 
 tion, declaring that the two races could not live in 
 the same land, that the Indians, who would soon 
 be the weaker party, would be scattered and de- 
 stroyed like leaves in Autumn. 
 
 In his little Ehode Island home, Eoger "Will- 
 iams and his faithful followers might have passed 
 their days in tranquil ease, even though the war 
 raged in Connecticut until every Englishman was 
 driven from the soil. His relations with the Nar- 
 
328 TUE PILGRIMS. 
 
 ragansetts and Mohegans were pleasant, and he 
 had little to fear from any red man, for he had 
 ever been the friend of the Indian, and no race of 
 people ever had greater respect for friends than the 
 aborigines, before their morals became corrupted by 
 contact with the worst elements of the white race. 
 
 In his security and peace, Eoger Willams heard 
 the cry of distress. The cry came first from his 
 enemies in Massachusetts, who had beloved friends 
 and relatives in Connecticut, who were hourly in 
 danger of extermination. In this trying moment 
 they appealed to Williams whom they had ban- 
 ished to .exert his influence to prevent the Narra- 
 gansetts and Mohegans from forming an alliance 
 with the dread Pequods. This appeal fell upon a 
 listening ear. He had already sent many friendly 
 warnings to the English in Connecticut and Mas- 
 sachusetts, and he was willing now to risk his life 
 to prevent the general iiprising of the Indians. 
 
 "Will you go?" asked his brave young wife, 
 on learning what had been required of him. 
 
 "Certainly," he answered. 
 
 "When?" 
 
 "To-night." 
 
 "Alone?" 
 
 "I can accomplish more alone." 
 
 She made no objection; but, clinging to her 
 children, by a heroic efiort, kept back her tears. 
 
GOOD FOB EVIL. 239 
 
 It was midnight, and the wild winds were howl- 
 ing through the trees, and the rain, falling in 
 torrents on the poor roof of the cabin, leaked 
 through on the thick puncheon floor below. In 
 the dryest corner of the room, Williams had placed 
 the bed for his wife and children and spread a 
 piece of old sail as a canopy above it. The faith- 
 ful husband, kind father, and devoted friend of 
 mankind laid a few logs on the fire and, kissing 
 his wife and sleeping children, went out into the 
 driving storm, alone and unarmed, save the con- 
 sciousness of doing God and man a service. 
 
 He baled the water out of his poor canoe and set 
 out on his mission to the Narragansett monarch. 
 Next morning, at the home of the great sachem, all 
 was the wildest excitement and confusion. Hun- 
 dreds of Indians were astir, and one did not have to 
 be acquainted with savage life to know that some- 
 thing of more than usual moment was transpiring. 
 
 During the night embassadors had come from 
 the Pequods with the proposition of an alliance 
 against the English. Rumor of war creates great 
 excitement among civilized people as well as sav- 
 ages, and the most unambitious Narragansett was 
 wild with excitement. Savages were hurrying 
 hither and thither, and there were many comments 
 as to the result of the conference to be held that 
 evening. 
 
230 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 The Pequods, terrible in their war paint, and 
 hands still red with the blood of the murdered 
 whites, mingled freely with their neighbors the 
 Narragansetts, arguing the necessity of uniting 
 against the English. 
 
 Such was the state of affairs when a strange 
 being appeared among them. It was a white man, 
 who landed his frail bark at their shore and boldly 
 advanced toward the Indian town. The Pequods 
 saw him, and their eyes flashed with hatred, and 
 gnashing their teeth they seized their weapons. 
 
 "It's an Englishman — a hated white man," said 
 a Pequod warrior, drawing his knife half way from 
 its sheath. 
 
 " Do him no harm," a young Sagamore returned, 
 laying his hand on the arm of his neighbor. "He 
 is a good man, and is our friend." 
 
 "Who is he?" 
 
 "Eoger Williams." 
 
 That name was not unknown even to the Pequods. 
 The man who had been driven from Massachusetts 
 and sought a home in the wilderness was the friend 
 of all Indians, and his stubborn defence of their 
 rights was in part the original cause of his trouble 
 with the people of Massachusetts. 
 
 "Why does he come at this time?" the Pequod 
 asked, for he fancied from the first that the visit 
 pf Eoger Willianis at such a moment, portended 
 
GOOD FOR EVIL. Sai 
 
 ill to their plans. The Narragansetts made no an- 
 swer, and the stranger strode bodily up the hill. 
 
 His cloak was soaked with water and hung drip- 
 ping aboxit his shoulders. He had a stout staff in 
 his hand, which he used to support his steps in the 
 wilderness rather than as a weapon. 
 
 A dozen Peg^uods stood with lowering brows and 
 flashing eyes watching the white man as he boldly 
 entered the town. Eoger Williams saw plainly de- 
 picted on their faces hate and revenge. It seemed 
 as if they tried by their glance to annihilate the 
 white man. To one man's belt, depended two 
 human scalps. One had the long, soft, yellow 
 hair of a woman, and the other was the scalp of a 
 child, so that he suppposed they had been torn 
 from the head of a mother and her babe. Though 
 the sight sickened him, Williams was not fright- 
 ened, nor deterred from his purpose. He was ac- 
 costed ijy a Narragansett warrior with: 
 
 "Whom do you wish to see?" Having ac- 
 quired the Indian language, he understood the 
 question. 
 
 "I want to see your sachem," he answered. 
 
 "He is busy." 
 
 "Who is with him?" 
 
 "The sagamores of the Pequods." 
 
 He realized now that he was not a moment too 
 soon. The great Pequod king,- or sachem Sassacus 
 
232 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 himself, had come to wait upon Miantonomoh, act- 
 ing chief sachem of the Narragansetts, for his uncle 
 Canonicus, the real sachem, was very old. 
 
 "I must see and talk with Miantonomoh," "Wil- 
 liams declared. The announcement that Mianto- 
 nomoh " was engaged " did not deter Williams. 
 He saw a young man among the Narragansetts 
 whom he knew to possess great influence with the 
 chief sachem, and, taking him aside, asked: 
 
 "Is Miantonomoh holding a consultation with 
 Sassacus?" 
 
 "He is." 
 
 "Does it relate to an union for the destruction 
 of the English?" 
 
 With an evasive look, the Indian answered that 
 it did. 
 
 "Is there any danger of your people going to 
 war with the English in Connecticut?" 
 
 With another evasive glance, the young Indian 
 answered: 
 
 "I do not know." 
 
 " Do you think Miantonomoh would break faith 
 with us?" 
 
 After a brief silence, the young brave answered: 
 
 "I cannot say. The Pequods hold out many 
 good inducements." 
 
 "And your people?" 
 
 "They will do whatever the sachem directs." 
 
GOOD FOR EVIL. 233 
 
 "Then I am needed here," thought Roger Wil- 
 liams. 
 
 As he reflected on the horrors of such an alli- 
 ance, the estrangement of all the Indians whom he 
 had hoped to convert to Christianity, the murder 
 of helpless women and children, the thousands of 
 innocent lives jeopardized by such an alliance, he 
 repeated : 
 
 "Yes, I am not a moment too soon!" 
 
 A war at best is to be deplored ; but war with 
 savages can only be contemplated with horror. 
 
 "I must see Miantonomoh, " "Williams again 
 declared. "I must see him at once." 
 
 The Indian was silent. Turning his great earn- 
 est eyes upon the young savage, Eoger Williams 
 added : 
 
 "You can gain me admittance to the sachem; 
 I am your friend; you have eaten at my table; 
 hasten to the sachem and tell him I must talk with 
 him." 
 
 The young Indian conducted Williams to his 
 lodge hard by, and told him to abide there until 
 he came for him. Williams threw himself upon a 
 pile of skins and, covering his face with his hands, 
 prayed God to give him success. 
 
 "It must not be!" he groaned. 
 
 The thought of all the horrors of such a war, the 
 burning houses, the fleeing women and children. 
 
234 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 murder and rapine throug'ho'ut the fair land wliich. 
 God had given his own as a home of peace almost 
 drove him mad. It seemed an age before the 
 young Indian came back ; but when he did return, 
 he brought the joyful intelligence that Mianto- 
 nomoh would see him, and the embassador hast- 
 ened to the lodge of that chief. 
 
 He was received with savage dignity, and, after 
 having smoked the pipe of peace, he said: 
 
 " I have travelled all night through the storm in 
 an open boat, chilled by rains and exposed to dan- 
 ger on land and water, that I might see my friend 
 before he too hastily arrives at a decision." 
 
 Miantonomoh bowed his head and gave vent to 
 a grunt, but said nothing. Eoger Williams con- 
 tinued : 
 
 "The chief sagamore of thePequods has come to 
 urge you to take up the hatchet against the whites. " 
 
 The sachem was still silent, and Williams waited 
 for him to express his approval or disapproval of 
 what he was saying. Finding that he would not 
 say anything, Williams resumed his argument. 
 He spoke in a cool, unimpassioned manner, re- 
 minding the, sachem of the good feeling which ex- 
 isted between himself and the whites. The Pequods 
 claimed to have suffered great wrongs; but had 
 they not inflicted greater, not only on the whites, 
 but on other tribes of Indians? As an argument, 
 
GOOD FOR EVIL. 235 
 
 he referred to the tribe which the Pequods ban- 
 ished from Connecticut, and which had taken up 
 their abode in Plymouth until restored to their 
 rightful possessions by the white people. 
 
 "But I am not here to plead the cause of the 
 English nor the banished Indians," he continued. 
 "My object is to cement the friendship and pre- 
 serve the good feeling we entertain for each other. 
 There may be war with the Pequods, there may be 
 many slain, much cruelty and misery; but there 
 is no occasion for the ISTarragansetts to imbrue their 
 hands in the blood of their friends. I would re- 
 mind you of the arrogance of the Pequods ere the 
 whites came, recall their cruelty to your people, 
 slaying and enslaving them, so that you fain would 
 appeal to the English to plant in Connecticut as a 
 barrier between yourselves and these warlike peo- 
 ple. The whites came and planted the barrier, 
 and now they ask you to aid them to remove it. 
 Who knows but tha.t in time when the barrier is 
 removed 'they may not fall upon you and destroy 
 you. If you would be wise, reject their proposi- 
 tion. If you love friends, and hate enemies, reject 
 their proposition. If you love home, wife and 
 children and peace, more than war and famine, the 
 forest, fire and sword, then reject the offer of the 
 Pequods." 
 
 It was impossible to tell what efl'ect Eoger Wil- 
 
336 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 liams' speech was having on the sachem. He sat 
 unmoved and smoked in silence. His eyes were on 
 the ground and the stoical face of the savage ex- 
 pressed neither approval nor disapproval. Mianto- 
 nomoh did not even grunt assent or disapproval. 
 Eoger Williams rose and without a word left the 
 lodge of the chief. He was astounded to find the 
 sun sunk low in the heavens. The day was almost 
 spent. 
 
 A large, powerful Indian, whose rich costume 
 and gay feathers indicated that he wa^ a chief of 
 some note among the Pequods, was waiting with- 
 out the lodge. His arms were folded across his 
 breast and his eyes were flashing fire. As he turned 
 his baleful glance on the Englishman, "Williams 
 could not repress a shudder. Near him was the 
 savage with the two human scalps at his girdle. 
 Their fierce looks bode the white man no good, 
 and but for the presence of the powerful Narragan- 
 setts, they would have slain him on the spot. A 
 throng of Pequods gathered about "Williams as soon 
 as he emerged from the council chamber, and he 
 began to have some apprehensions of danger, when 
 his young friend came and led him away from 
 their midst. 
 
 "Did you see Miantonomoh?" he asked. 
 
 "I did." 
 
 ""What will he do?" 
 
GOOD FOR EVIL. 237 
 
 •' I know not. 1 have talked with him ; but he 
 has made me no answer, neither yea nor nay." 
 
 "There is a white man in the woods who wants 
 to see you." 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 The Indian pointed to a clump of trees and 
 bushes not far off and added: 
 
 " He is hiding there. If the Pequods know it, 
 they will kill him!" 
 
 Roger Williams accompanied the young Narra- 
 gansett to the thicket, where they found a red- 
 headed young man, whose great blue eyes were 
 full of dread and terror. 
 
 "Why are you here?" asked Williams. 
 
 "My name is Isaac Tulley, and I was living 
 with a family in Connecticut, " he answered. " One 
 night the Pequods attacked the house and the peo- 
 ple were all slain save myself. I made my escape 
 and ever since I have been wandering in the forest, 
 trying to make my way to Boston or Plymouth. 
 For days I have been without food, and hoped to 
 find friends here." 
 
 Williams explained how matters stood at the 
 town of ' the Narragansetts, and stated that he 
 doubted if they would have the power to save 
 him, should the Pequods become aware of his 
 presence. 
 
 "The Pequods would slay me without a doubt," 
 
338 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 he said. " I shot three of their number, and they 
 will be avenged on me if they find me." 
 
 " Stay in the woods, I will send you food. We 
 do not know yet what the decision of Miantonomoh 
 will be; but be it whatever it may, you will be 
 doomed if the Pequods find you." 
 
 "I don't want to die," whimpered Isaac. "I 
 am not fit to die. If I was prepared, I would not 
 shun death ; but with all my sins I cannot meet my 
 God." 
 
 There was no time to convert the fugitive; but 
 Williams informed him that God was always ready 
 to extend His mercy to any who would accept Him 
 through the atoning blood of Jesus Christ. As he 
 was going away, Isaac said: 
 
 "Won't you come to me again. I am so lone- 
 some in this forest. I have lived such a miserable 
 life since that awful night, that I feel as if I would 
 go mad if left alone." Eoger Williams knew what 
 it was to pass lonely hours in a forest, and he 
 promised to come and see him again in the morn- 
 ing, and, bidding him keep very quiet, left him. 
 
 That night, as Williams lay in the wigwam of 
 his Narragansett friend, he heard the Pequods all 
 about him. He slept none, for he could not con- 
 vince himself that they were not deliberately plan- 
 ning to murder him. 
 
 "If I succeed, I will do God a service," he 
 
GOOD FOB EVIL. 239 
 
 thouglit. " Should I be slain I will be giving my 
 life in a good cause." 
 
 Nearly tbe entire night was passed sitting on his 
 pallet of skins, holding his stout staff in his hands. 
 Morning came at last, and the angry Pequods, 
 who had not dared attack the holy man in the 
 darkness, slunk away from the lodge in which he 
 lay. 
 
 He rose early, -and unobserved stole away to the 
 wood in which he had left Isaac. It was some 
 time before he could find him. He at last called 
 his name softly three or four times and received an 
 answer. Then a miserable white face looked out 
 from the bushes, and a young man with the dead 
 leaves clinging to his hair, crept to his side. 
 
 "I have passed a horrible night," he whispered. 
 "Don't leave me again, for I heard them all night 
 long coming to kill me." 
 
 " I cannot remain with you. To do so would be 
 your ruin and perhaps would prove the ruin of 
 hundreds of others," Williams answered. "You 
 are now sufficiently rested to travel, and you must 
 go hence." 
 
 "Whither shalll go?" 
 
 " When another night comes, take a boat and 
 cross the bay to Providence, where you will be 
 entertained by my wife and friends." 
 
 "Can I do it?" the trembling wretch asked. 
 
340 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 "If you are discreet and keep well within the 
 shadow of the forest." 
 
 "If I am discovered, I will be killed, and oh! 
 I am not prepared to die. I cannot meet my God 
 now." 
 
 Williams admonished him to pray and seek par- 
 doning grace, not merely on account of his immi- 
 nent danger, but as a duty. 
 
 He returned to the Indian village, where he 
 found the Pequods using all the skill and diplomacy 
 of more civilized statesmen to enlist the services of 
 the Narragansetts in a war against the English. 
 Eegardless of their scowls and muttered threats, 
 Williams passed through the throng into the coun- 
 cil house. Miantonomoh was there, also Sassacus 
 and some of his chiefs. 
 
 Sassacus was delivering a harangue to the great 
 sachem of the Narragansets, who sat upon his chair 
 of state in silence. Williams listened to the im- 
 passioned address with profound attention. Sas- 
 sacus went on to show how the Indians had suffered 
 at the hands of the whites, much of which Eoger 
 Williams had to admit was true. At first they 
 came but a handful ; but now they were pouring in 
 like an avalanche, and the Indians were gradually 
 yielding to the pale-faced intruders. "Unless we 
 rise up in our might and drive the pale-faced peo- 
 ple back across the sea, we shall soon be swept 
 
GOOD FOR EVIL. 241 
 
 away," he declared. "Some say we cannot do 
 this. Whete is the coward so base as to bend to 
 the will of the white man? Go, see your small 
 fields and hunting grounds day by day growing 
 less, while the Indian is being pushed farther and 
 farther from the land of his fathers." 
 
 At conclusion of his speech, Eoger Williams, to 
 the amazement of both Pequods and Narragansetts, 
 rose to reply. He admitted there had been bad 
 Englishmen like Hunt; but there were also very 
 many great and good men among the whites. His 
 object in the New World was to bring the Indians 
 to a knowledge of the true God. He dwelt long 
 on the horrors of war, and earnestly pleaded the 
 friendship of the English. 
 
 Having finished his speech, he turned to the door 
 of the council house just as a Pequod brave en- 
 tered. At his girdle was a fresh, bleeding human 
 scalp, the fiery red hair smeared with blood. 
 Eoger Williams started back, and exclaimed: 
 
 "My God! they have killed Isaac Tulley!" 
 
 Such was the fact. While he had been pleading 
 for mercy, poor Tulley was discovered and slain in 
 his hiding place. 
 
 For two days longer Williams labored at the 
 
 court of Miantonomoh. A hundred times his life 
 
 was in peril; but the Pequods had respect for a 
 
 good man who had dared so much to plead for mercy. 
 
 16 
 
342 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 The killing of Isaac TuUey almost within sight of 
 the town of the Narragansetts was unfortunate for 
 the plans of the Pequods. It enraged the Narra- 
 gansetts against their dusky brethren and brought 
 the conference to an end. Miantonomoh decided 
 to remain neutral. 
 
 Eoger Williams had achieved the greatest vic- 
 tory of his life; but it was at a greater risk than 
 any general ever gained a battle, and his only 
 weapon was the sword of truth. 
 
CHAPTEE XIV. 
 
 FIRE AND SWOED. 
 
 All was prepared — the fire, the sword, the men 
 To wield them in their terrible array. 
 
 The army, like a lion from his den, 
 March 'd forth with nerve and sinews bent to slay — 
 
 A human Hydra, issuing from its fen 
 
 To breathe destruction on its wi- g way ; 
 
 Whose head were heroes, which cut off in vain. 
 
 Immediately in others grew again. 
 
 — Byron. 
 
 Once more the trump of war awoke slumbering 
 vengeance, and fair peace spread her wings and 
 flew weeping away. The New England colonies 
 were going through that fiery ordeal preparatory to 
 the grand struggle for liberty. The war-whoop, 
 the blazing cabin, the dancing savage with all his 
 infernal orgies, the forest, the camp, the battle 
 fields of one hundred and fifty years comprised the 
 hard school in which patriots were trained to defend 
 by force and arms those liberties which they had 
 grown to love. 
 
 The Pequods being foiled by Eoger Williams in 
 their efforts to form a combination of forces with 
 
 343 
 
344 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 the Narragansetts and Mohegans, resolved to harass 
 the English until they drove them out of the Con- 
 necticut valley. Continued injuries and murders 
 roused Connecticut to action, and, on the first of 
 May, the court of its three infant towns decreed 
 immediate war. Uncas was their ally. At this 
 time there were in the colonies two brave soldiers 
 who had served in the Netherlands. These were 
 Captains John Mason and John Underhill. The 
 former had taken a prominent part in the military 
 and civil affairs in Massachusetts and was now in 
 Connecticut. The latter was an eccentric charac- 
 ter, who at one time might have been mistaken for 
 a priest, and at another for a buffoon. He was at 
 Boston at the time of the declaration of war, and 
 under him Massachusetts and Plymouth placed two 
 hundred men, while in Connecticut Mason was 
 given full command. 
 
 Plymouth was notified of the commencement of 
 hostilities again, by the arrival of a messenger from 
 the afflicted district, with his face full of woe. 
 
 "What news do you bring?" asked Governor 
 Bradford, as he and many others gathered about 
 the messenger. "We know it is bad, for your 
 features show no other!" The messenger an- 
 swered : 
 
 "The Pequods are again on the warpath. A 
 band of one hundred attacked the town of Weather- 
 
FIRE AND SWORD. 345 
 
 field, killed seven men, a woman and child, and 
 carried way two girls." 
 
 Governor Bradford, shocked at this atrocity, 
 asked: 
 
 " Why does not your colony declare war against 
 them?" 
 
 "It has done so, and I am sent for recruits." 
 
 For this war Mathew Stevens, the Spanish Puri- 
 tan, recruited eighty men. He was astounded to 
 find among the enlisted men under him Francis 
 Billington. We will step aside in our story at this 
 point to speak of the fate of John Billington, the 
 precocious son of Francis Billington, who came so 
 near to blowing up the Mayflower before the Pil- 
 grims had landed. This youth grew up to be 
 bolder and more desperate than his father, and 
 committed the first murder ever committed in New 
 England. For this murder he was arrested, tried, 
 and hung in the year 1630. His untimely taking 
 ofE did not soften the father. He became a morose 
 man, always brooding over his imaginary wrongs, 
 and year by year becoming more revengeful. 
 
 Mathew Stevens, amazed that he should enlist in 
 his company, went to Miles Standish and told him. 
 Standish, with his keen eyes fixed on his friend, 
 said: 
 
 "Mark me, he hath a purpose in enlisting." 
 
 "I believe he has." 
 
246 THE PILGRIMS, 
 
 "Have an eye on liirn." 
 
 The evening before the departure to war came, 
 and the soldiers, who had been paraded on the 
 streets, broke ranks and went to spend their last 
 nights at home. At early dawn the vessel was to 
 sail. Only a few men went on board that night as a 
 guard, though their arms, ammunition, provisions 
 and camping outfits had been taken on the vessel 
 during the day. 
 
 Late in the evening, long after the sun had gone 
 down and the stars had opened their bright little 
 eyes, and night had assumed her sway. Captain 
 Stevens, having performed the last duty incumbent 
 upon him as commander of the Plymouth troops, 
 set out slowly up the hill to the home of Sarah 
 White. 
 
 No candle was burning in the window, and he 
 thought perhaps Alice was not at home. As he 
 drew nearer, he heard voices, one of which was 
 unmistakably the voice of Francis Billington. 
 
 "Spare me, Francis Billington," Sarah "White 
 was heard saying. "You have wrecked my life, 
 lo ! these many years. Will you not let me die in 
 peace? " 
 
 " Sarah White, ye know I have sworn it, and I 
 will not violate my oath." 
 
 What had he sworn that he now found impossi- 
 ble to violate? Mathew Stevens asked himself. 
 
FIRE AND SWORD. 247 
 
 We must pardon Mathew for assuming tlie role of 
 eavesdropper. For years this secret, like a great 
 black giant, had stood between him and happiness. 
 Now that he had an opportunity of learning it, 
 who can wonder that he should yield to the tempta- 
 tion to listen to the people within the cabin? With 
 wildly beating heart, he crept around to the rear of 
 the house, where he might hear better. 
 
 There was a window there. The windows of 
 the Pilgrims were made of paper dipped in linseed 
 oil, and were no more transparent than stained 
 glass, although they admitted some light. A can- 
 dle was burning in the rear apartment, and he 
 could see through the greased paper, dim shadowy 
 forms within. 
 
 The voices told more than he could see. His 
 imagination truly pictured the scene within that 
 apartment of misery. A woman was wringing her 
 hands and weeping, while a man sat near her with 
 the look of a fiend on his face. He could hear 
 every word the woman said as she pleaded: 
 
 "Spare me, Francis Billington, spare me!" 
 
 Then the listener heard a chuckle and the voice 
 of a devil answered: 
 
 "Spare ye, Sarah White? Yes, I will spare ye. 
 [ don't care any more for ye. There is one con- 
 dition upon which I will cease to trouble ye for- 
 
248 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 "What is the condition?" 
 
 "Ye have a daughter." 
 
 "What mean you?" asked the astonished -wo- 
 man, with a wild sob. 
 
 "She is young and beautiful. There is some 
 disparagement in our ages; but the difference is not 
 great. When I return from this campaign " 
 
 "Francis Billington!" the woman interrupted 
 with a shriek so wild and fierce that it caused her 
 listener to start. Her eyes blazed with the fury of 
 a tigress, her breath came in short quick gasps, 
 and she glared at him as if she would annihilate 
 him. For a moment she could not utter another 
 word, and he was dumb with amazement, for he 
 had never seen her defiant before. At last she 
 gained her voice, and in low, earnest words, that 
 trembled with pent-up emotion, continued: "No! 
 no! Francis Billington, I would nail her up in her 
 coffin sooner than that! I would become a hissing 
 and a by-word for the entire colony sooner than 
 that. Never! never!" 
 
 "Dare ye refuse?" 
 
 "I do." 
 
 "Sarah White, ye have not seen one side of my 
 nature yet; it is the dark side! Beware!" 
 
 She ordered him to leave the house, and Billing- 
 ton was growling out some words in dissent, and 
 Mathew was debating in his mind the advisability 
 
FIRE AND SWORD. 249 
 
 of rusHng in and knocking him down and flinging 
 his worthless body from the house, when a light 
 footstep coming down the street fell on his ear. 
 
 Hurrying quickly around the corner, he espied a 
 fairy-like being approaching the house. One mo- 
 ment of indistinct vision and hesitation, then love 
 and intuition overcame doubt and darkness. Her 
 hand was in his, and his low, melancholy voice 
 breathed : 
 
 "Alice." 
 
 "I thought you would come before you left," 
 she answered. 
 
 "I could not go away without bidding you 
 good-by." 
 
 As he held both her hands in his own, his back 
 was toward the door, and he saw not the dark form 
 that flitted from the house. Alice saw and recog- 
 nized it and, though she strove not to appear agi- 
 tated, a shudder ran through her frame. Mathew 
 at her invitation entered the house expecting to 
 find Billington; but he was nowhere to be seen. 
 The night was well-nigh spent, when he took his 
 leave of Alice at the gate. 
 
 Next day Captain Stevens was early astir. The 
 morning air resounded with blasts of trumpets and 
 roll of drums, and polished helmets and burnished 
 arms glittered in the rising sun, as the soldiers 
 hastened to fall into line to march to the vessel. 
 
250 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 Friends and relatives came to bid them adieu. 
 SucIl partings are always sad, and many an eye 
 grew dim and many a cheek sad on that bright 
 summer morning. The air was mild and balmy; 
 the birds sang their sweetest songs, and nature in 
 her gayest robes whispered of peace. Those soft 
 New England skies and romantic landscapes 
 breathed more of beauty and poetry than grim- 
 visaged war. 
 
 Mathew Stevens marched by at the head of his 
 command to the great stone to which their boat 
 was moored. He was half way to the place of 
 embarkation, when Alice joined him and, with a 
 smile, accompanied him to the boat. While his 
 soldiers were being taken on board, he grasped her 
 hand and asked: 
 
 " Alice, what have you to say at this hour of 
 parting?" 
 
 "Wait, hope and pray," she answered. 
 
 He went aboard, and the vessel weighed anchor. 
 Off Cape Cod they fell in with the Massachusetts 
 forces under Captain Underbill and together sailed 
 for the seat of war. 
 
 The settlers in the valley of Connecticut knew it 
 was not safe to wait for their allies on the sea 
 coast. A new murder had aroused them to the 
 existing dangers. Mrs. Anna Hutchinson, the wo- 
 man banished from Massachusetts on account of 
 
FIRE AND SWORD. 251 
 
 her religious zeal , had settled in Ehode Island ; but, 
 dreading the persecution of bigots which still threat- 
 ened her, she took up her abode within the domain 
 of ISTew Netherland, near the present village of 
 New Eochelle, in Westchester County, where she 
 dwelt with her family in peace until the wickedness 
 of the whites excited the wrath of the Indians. 
 With blind fury they swept through the forest de- 
 stroying every white settlement and settler. Mrs. 
 Hutchinson did not escape. She and all her fam- 
 ily, save a little grandchild, a fair curly-haired lit- 
 tle girl of eight, were slain. Her house and barns 
 were burned, her cattle butchered, and her grand- 
 child carried away. The young warrior who spared 
 her life took her in his arms and soothed her fears 
 with gentle caresses. Four years later, when little 
 Anna Collins was delivered to the Dutch Governor 
 at New Amsterdam to be sent to her friends at 
 Boston, in accordance with the terms of a treaty, 
 she had forgotten her own language and was un- 
 willing to leave her Indian friends. 
 
 Mason, with ninety men, took up his headquar- 
 ters at Hartford. With twenty soldiers, the cap- 
 tain hastened to reinforce the garrison at Saybrook, 
 where he foun.d Underhill with Stevens, and the 
 combined forces from Boston and Plymouth just 
 arrived. 
 
 "As Connecticut has begun the war, it is best 
 
253 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 that you, Captain Mason, should be commander-in- 
 chief of the combined armies," suggested Underbill. 
 
 Mason was accordingly chosen commander of all 
 the forces. Uncas, one of the Pequod chiefs of 
 royal blood, who was in rebellion against Sassacus, 
 joined the English with seventy warriors. 
 
 After a long council, it was determined to go to 
 the land of the Narragansetts and march upon the 
 rear of the Pequods, at a point from whence the 
 attack would be least expected. So in three pin- 
 naces the expedition sailed eastward. As they 
 passed the Pequod country, those savages supposed 
 that they had abandoned the Connecticut valley 
 in despair. It was a fatal mistake, for the reliance 
 in that belief proved their ruin. 
 
 Two hundred Narragansetts joined the English 
 and as many Ni an tuck warriors and this army took 
 up their march to the enemv's country. 
 
 "Who is he?" asked Underbill of Mathew on 
 the evening of their first encampment in the forest. 
 
 "His name is Billington." 
 
 "He is not a very dear friend of yours?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "I fancy not. By accident I overheard him 
 promise a Niantuck warrior his old shoes to cut 
 your throat. He must be very much interested in 
 your demise, or he would not sacrifice his shoes on 
 such a march as this to get rid of you." 
 
FIRE AND SWORD. 25S 
 
 Tlie intelligence was alarming to Mathew, and 
 lie recalled to mind the remark of Captain Standish, 
 when he was informed that Billington had joined 
 the expedition. Stevens went to John Alden and 
 told him what he had learned, and asked him to 
 keep an eye on Billington and the assassin he had 
 bribed. 
 
 That night, while the young captain slept at the 
 root of an old oak tree, the Niantuck assassin crept 
 toward him, knife in hand. Just before he was 
 near enough to give the fatal stab, he was seized 
 and made prisoner. The savage made a fierce 
 struggle; but Alden held him as if in a vice, and 
 in a few moments had him secured. The camp 
 was aroused, and Billington was arrested. He 
 pleaded his innocence and denied any knowledge of 
 the Indian's intent. The warrior was turned over 
 to his chief to be dealt with, and Billington was 
 driven from the camp. He went to Rhode Island, 
 where he remained for several days, and from 
 thence wandered to Boston, and finally returned to 
 Plymouth. 
 
 The stronghold of Sassacus was on a hill a few 
 miles north of New London and Stonington, near 
 the waters of the Mystic River. It was a fort 
 built of palisades, the trunks of trees, set firmly in 
 the ground close together and rising above it ten or 
 twelve feet, with sharpened points. Within this 
 
354 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 enclosure, which was of circular form, were sev- 
 enty wigwams covered witli matting and thatch, 
 and at two points were sally ports or gates of 
 weaker construction, through which Mason and 
 TJnderhill were destined to force an entrance. 
 When the attacking party, quite undiscovered, 
 reached the foot of the hill on which this fort stood, 
 and arranged their camp, Mathew and John Alden, 
 who went forward to reconnoitre, distinctly heard 
 the sounds of noisy revelry among the savages. 
 
 "Poor deluded beings," said Mathew with .a 
 sigh. "They believe all danger over; but it is 
 not. Frequently in life when all seems peace and 
 quiet, danger hovers like a dark-winged angel over 
 the world." 
 
 "They are holding their Belshazzar feast," an- 
 swered John Alden. 
 
 "What camp fires! what songs! what dancing!" 
 
 It was a mild June night, the insects sung, and 
 from a far-off hill, the whippoorwill poured forth 
 its melancholy lay. It was a night of peaceful 
 slumber, and it seemed like sacrilege to disturb it 
 with the rude alarms of war. At midnight the 
 sounds of revelry ceased, and at two in the morn- 
 ing the army of invaders was aroused and formed 
 for the attack. The order to advance was given, 
 and the army crept up the hill, through the trees, 
 and among the shrubs. 
 
FIRE AND SWOBD. 355 
 
 Glittering helmets parted the flowering bushes, 
 and the heavy boot of the soldier trod the sweet- 
 scented roses to the earth. Scarcely had the ad- 
 vance begun, when Underhill said to Stevens: 
 
 " Our Indian allies, save the followers of Uncas, 
 grow weak at heart — they fall back." 
 
 " They dread Sassactis, whom they fear as a sort 
 of god," Mathew answered. 
 
 " Though they lag behind, they will form a cor- 
 don in the woods to slay all who escape," put in 
 Mason. 
 
 "If it be not us who escape," added the grave 
 Underhill. 
 
 In the bright moonlight, the little army crept 
 stealthily up the wooded slope and were on the 
 point of rushing to the attack, when the barking of 
 a dog roused the sentinel, and he gave the alarm 
 to the sleepers within. The savages slept heavily 
 after the feast and carousal, and before they could 
 be roused. Mason, Underhill, and Stevens burst in 
 the sally ports. As the terrified Pequods rushed 
 out of their wigwams, they were met by a volley 
 of bullets, and the English, charging them with 
 swords.^ drove them back into their dwellings. 
 
 "Fire their wigwams," commanded Mason. In 
 a moment the night was lit for miles around with 
 the blaze of burning wigwams. In one short hour 
 seven hundred men, women, and children perished 
 
356 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 in the flames and by the weapons of the English. 
 The strong, the beautiful, the innocent were alike 
 doomed to a common fate with the bloodthirsty 
 and cruel. The door of mercy was shut. Not a 
 dusky being among the Pequods was permitted 
 to live. When the butchery was over, Captain 
 Mason, leaning on his sword, dimmed with the 
 conflict, exultingly exclaimed: 
 
 "God is over us! He laughs his enemies to 
 scorn, making them as a fiery oven. Thus does 
 the Lord judge among the heathen, filling their 
 places with dead bodies." 
 
 The great sachem Sassacuswasnotin the doomed 
 fort, but at another place called Groton, on the 
 Thames, to which point Underhill had ordered his 
 vessels. The English did not tarry long after their 
 victory, but began a march to form a conjunction 
 with the vessels. Three hundred warriors were 
 sent out by Sassacus to attack them. Captain 
 Stevens, with seventy men, was in advance of the 
 main force and met the Indians. 
 
 "Take shelter behind trees, and fire only when 
 you are sure you have good aim," was his command 
 to his men. They obeyed and opened fire on the 
 Indians. They answered with steel -pointed ar- 
 rows; but the musket proved so much more deadly 
 that the Indians were put to flight before the re- 
 mainder of the army came up. Most of the victors 
 
'the door of MEECX "WAS SHUT." 
 
FIRE AND SWORD 357 
 
 then sailed for the CoBnecticut, making the air 
 vocal with sacred song. The remainder of the Con- 
 necticut troops with the friendly Indians marched 
 through the wilderness to Hartford to protect the 
 settlements in that vicinity, while Mathew hastened 
 to join the ai'med settlers from Massachusetts and 
 Plymouth, to take part in the closing tragedy of 
 the Pequod war. 
 
 Sullen, silent, and stately, Sassacus sat in his 
 embowered dwelling, realizing that the end of his 
 reign had come. The remnant of his warriors, 
 escaped from the ruined citadel, came to him with 
 their tale of woe; but he sat unmoved. Exasper- 
 ated at his silence and stupidity, they charged all 
 their misfortunes to his haughtiness and misconduct. 
 Tearing their hair, stamping violently, with fierce 
 gestures, they swore to destroy him. He still sat 
 unmoved, and a tomahawk was raised to slay him, 
 when the blast of a trumpet fell on their ears. 
 No sound at that moment could be more appalling. 
 From the head-waters of the Mystic, came almost 
 two hundred armed settlers from Massachusetts and 
 Plymouth, advancing to seal the doom of the 
 Pequods. 
 
 Should they fight or fly? There was little time 
 for deliberation. Those invincible pale-faced con- 
 querors from across the sea were on them. They had 
 conquered in the past, they would conquer in the 
 17 
 
258 THE PILORIMS. 
 
 future. After a hasty deliberation, the Pequods 
 decided on flight. They set fire to their wigwams 
 and fort and, with their women and children, hur- 
 ried across the Thames and fled westward, intending 
 to seek refuge among the Mohawks across the 
 Hudson. 
 
 The English pressed on in close pursuit, and as 
 the chase was across the beautiful country border- 
 ing on Long Island Sound, a track of desolation 
 was left behind, for wigwams and cornfields were 
 destroyed, and helpless men, women, and children 
 put to the sword. The fugitives at last took 
 refuge in the Sasco swamp, near Fairfield, where 
 they all surrendered to the English, excepting Sas- 
 sacus and a few of his advisers, who escaped and 
 fled into the land of the Mohawks. 
 
 Terrible as was the Pequod war, it had a whole- 
 some effect. A blow had been struck which gave 
 peace to New England for forty years. A nation 
 had been swept from existence in a day. But few 
 of the once powerful Pequods survived the na- 
 tional disaster. Sassacus lived in exile until he 
 fell by the hand of an assassin, and his scalp was 
 then sent to the English whom he hated. He was 
 the last of his royal line excepting Uncas, who 
 now returned to the land of his fathers and became 
 a powerful sachem, renowned in war and peace. 
 He remained a firm friend of the English and was 
 
FIRE AND SWORD. 
 
 359 
 
 buried among the graves of his kindred near the 
 falls of the Yantic, in the city of Norwich, where 
 a granite mon-ument, erected by the descendants of 
 his white friends, marks the 
 .- place of his sepulchre. It 
 is a question, after 
 all, if Sassacus, ac- 
 cording to 
 the' nature 
 of things, 
 was not the 
 patriot of 
 
 his people c _ 
 and Uncas '"'--■j. 
 the traitor. The lat- 
 ter loved the English 
 because he hated his 
 chief from whose 
 authority he rebelled. 
 Eunice Mauwee, 
 who died at Kent in 
 
 Connecticut, in 1860, at the age of one hundred 
 years, was the last full-blood Pequod. The race 
 is now extinct. 
 
 Roger Williams' hotjse and In- 
 dian chief's grave. 
 
CHAPTEE XV. 
 
 THE HARTFORD CONVENTION. 
 
 O Freedom ! thou art not, as poets dream, 
 
 A fair young girl, with light and delicate limbs. 
 
 And wavy tresses gushing from the cap 
 
 With which the Roman master crowned his slave. 
 
 When he took off the gyves. 
 
 — Bryant. 
 
 " That will end war between the white and the 
 red men!" So prophesied Captain Miles Standish, 
 the stout old Puritan, when he learned the fate of 
 the Pequods. "It will be many years before an- 
 other Indian tribe in New England will dare take 
 up arms against the English." 
 
 And Captain Standish ought to know if any man 
 did, for he was thoroughly versed in the art of war 
 among the savages. He had fought the first bat- 
 tles with the Indians in New England and borne 
 home on a pole the head of a belligerent chief whom 
 he had slain in personal combat. It was not a 
 very Christian-like proceeding and would be con- 
 demned by all civilized people of to-day, yet it had 
 the effect of intimidating other Indians. When 
 260 
 
THE HARTFORD CONVENTION. 261 
 
 Mathew wrote an account of the affair to Mr. 
 Eobinson, still at Leyden, Holland, lie answered: 
 
 "Oh, how happy a thing it would have been, 
 had you converted some, before you killed any." 
 
 The white men of that age warred with heathens 
 who could be conquered only by acts at which civ- 
 ilized people shudder. Captain Standish, having 
 heard a full account of the Pequod war from the 
 lips of Mathew Stevens, gave expression to the 
 very satisfactory remark with which this chapter 
 opens. 
 
 " That will end war between the white and the 
 red men." 
 
 "Why do you think it will?" asked Mathew. 
 
 " It will be a great many years before the Indians 
 can recover sufficient courage to take up arms 
 against the English." 
 
 "I hope your predictions will prove true." 
 
 "Another good result of the war will be a great 
 influx of immigration to Connecticut." 
 
 It was not long before Miles Standish witnessed 
 the fulfillment of the last prediction. No sooner 
 were peace and security fully established in the 
 region of the Connecticut by the destruction of the 
 Pequods than emigration thither was resumed. 
 
 In the year 1637, several gentlemen destined to 
 occupy conspicuous places in history as the found- 
 ers of a state arrived in Boston. The most con- 
 
262 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 spicuous of the new arrivals was Rev. Jolin Daven- 
 port, a popular Puritan preacher of London, who 
 had been persecuted by Archbishop Laud until he 
 was forced to take refuge in Rotterdam. Another 
 was Theophilus Eaton, an opulent London mer- 
 chant, and a member of Mr. Davenport's congre- 
 gation, and a third was Edward Hopkins, also a 
 wealthy London merchant and a member of the 
 same society. They were much attached to Mr. 
 Davenport, and gladly came to share his voluntary 
 exile from his native land. 
 
 Mr. Davenport and his congregation belonged to 
 a school which sought to carry out in practice the 
 idea of finding in the Scriptures a special rule for 
 everything in church and state. For the purpose 
 of trying the experiment in government on the 
 basis of that idea they desired an unoccupied field. 
 The soldiers who had just returned from pursuing 
 the fugitive Pequods along the shores of Long Island 
 Sound loudly praised the beauty and fertility of 
 that region, and early in autumn Mr. Baton and a 
 small party visited the country. He was charmed 
 with the harbor on the north side of the sound, and 
 on the banks of that body of water, which the 
 Indians called Quinnipiac, he erected a hut, where 
 some of the party passed the winter to try the cli- 
 mate. The hut was built on the present site of 
 New Haven, Conn. Block, the Dutch navigator, 
 
THE HARTFORD CONVENTION. 363 
 
 who had anchored for several days in the harbor 
 near this place, had named it "Eoodenberg," or 
 Eed Hills, from the red cliflEs a little inland. 
 
 Early in the spring of 1638, peace being restored 
 beyond question, Mr. Davenport and his friends 
 sailed for Quinnipiac, where they arrived about 
 the middle of April. They were accompanied by 
 a number of followers, 
 mostly persons from Lon- 
 don who had been engaged 
 in trade, and in proportion 
 to their number, they 
 formed the richest colony 
 in America. They spent 
 their first Sabbath there — 
 a warm April day — passing 
 most of the day under the 
 
 shadow of a great oak, „ 
 
 ° ' Davenpobt. 
 
 where Mr. Davenport 
 
 preached a sermon on the subject of Jesus being 
 led into the wilderness. They purchased land of the 
 natives and proceeded to plant the seeds of a new 
 State, by forming articles of association, called a 
 " Plantation Covenant," according to peculiar ideas. 
 By this covenant they resolved, "That, as in mat- 
 ters that concern the gathering and ordering of the 
 church, so likewise in all public offices which con- 
 cern civil order, as choice of magistrates and offi- 
 
264 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 cers, making and repealing of laws, dividing allot- 
 ments of inheritance, and all things of like nature, 
 they would be ordered by the rules which the 
 Scriptures held forth." 
 
 Thus they began their settlement without refer- 
 ence to any government or community on the face 
 of the earth. The king of England seemed to be 
 no more of them than the Grand Kahn. 
 
 The place where the first hut was built was on 
 the corner of what is now Church and George 
 Streets, New Haven, and the spot whereon stood 
 the oak tree — their first temple of worship — was at 
 the intei'section of George and College Streets. 
 
 For about a year this little community endeav- 
 ored to learn by experience, from reflection, and 
 light from Heaven through the medium of prayer, 
 what would be the best kind of social and political 
 organization for the government of the colony. 
 Frequently they counselled with each other over 
 the future and their form of government, and as 
 the society began to grow, there came other ele- 
 ments into it which demanded more than they had 
 yet ordained. 
 
 Early in the summer of 1639, all the "free 
 planters " assembled in a barn to compare views and 
 settle upon a plan of civil government according to 
 the word of God. Mr. Davenport, after a long and 
 earnest prayer, preached a sermon from the text: 
 
THE HARTFORD CONVENTION. 3ft5 
 
 "Wisdom hatli builded her house; she hath 
 hewn out her seven pillars." 
 
 In his discourse, after commending their deliber- 
 ations to the Euler of the universe, and urging 
 upon them the gravity of their undertaking, he 
 showed the fitness of choosing seven competent men 
 to construct the government, in which he proposed 
 for their adoption four fundamental articles: 
 
 First: That the Scriptures contained a perfect 
 rule for the government of men in the family, in 
 the Church, and in the commonwealth. 
 
 Second: That they would be ordered by the 
 rules which the Scriptures held forth. 
 
 Third: That their purpose was to be admitted 
 into church fellowship, according to Christ, as 
 man and God should fit them thereunto. 
 
 Fourth : That they hold themselves bound to es- 
 tablish such civil order, according to God, as would 
 be likely to secure the greatest good to themselves 
 and their posterity. 
 
 With scarce a moment's hesitation or debate 
 theses articles were unanimously adopted, where- 
 upon Mr. Davenport presented two other articles de- 
 signed to put into practical operation the theories 
 of the other four. These were in substance as fol- 
 lows: 
 
 First: That church members only should be free 
 burgesses, or freemen endowed with political fran- 
 
266 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 chises, and tliat they only should choose magis- 
 trates and transact civil bxisiness of every kind. 
 
 Second: That twelve or ntiore men should be 
 chosen from the company and tried for their fitness, 
 and these twelve should choose seven of their 
 number as the seven pillars of the church. 
 
 These sub-resolutions, or articles, were adopted 
 as promptly as the others had been, and subscribed 
 to by about sixty-three persons present, and shortly 
 after fifty others added their names. Twelve men 
 were chosen, and they selected the " seven pillars 
 of the church." After due deliberation, these 
 " pillars " proceeded to organize a church. Their 
 assistants, nine in number, were regarded as free- 
 men or "free burgesses," and the sixteen elected 
 Theophilus Eaton as magistrate for one year. Four 
 other persons were chosen to be deputies, and these 
 constitMed the executive and legislative depart- 
 ments of the new born State of Quinnipiac. To 
 these Mr. Davenport gave a "charge," grounded 
 upon Deuteronomy I. : 16 and 17. A secretary 
 and sheriff were appointed. The "Freemans' 
 charge," which was a substitute for an oath, gave 
 no pledge of allegiance to king or Parliament, nor 
 any other authority on the face of the earth, ex- 
 cepting that of the civil government here estab- 
 lished. " It was a State independent of all others. " 
 It was resolved that there should be an annual 
 
THE HARTFORD CONVENTION. 2G7 
 
 general court or meeting of the whole body in the 
 month of October, and that the "Word of God, 
 should be the only rule to be attended unto in 
 ordering the affairs of government." 
 
 Orders were issued for the building of a meeting- 
 house; for the distribution of house-lots and pas- 
 turage ; for regulating the prices of labor and com- 
 modities, and for taking measures for resisting the 
 attacks of savages, for, notwithstanding they had 
 every assurance of a long and continued peace, they 
 still entertained a dread of the savages. They also 
 resolved to choose their own company, and it was 
 ordained that "none should come to dwell as 
 planters without their consent and allowance, 
 whether they came in by purchase or otherwise." 
 In 1640, they named their settlemeiit New Haven. 
 
 It must be borne in mind that all the English 
 settlements in the Connecticut valley existed in 
 the face of Datch opposition. The Dutch gov- 
 ernor had received peremptory orders from the 
 home government to hold Connecticut at all hazards; 
 but the weak, vacillating Van Twiller was governor 
 of New Netherland, and was unable to enforce any 
 order. The English planters, in face of his oppo- 
 sition, perfected their system of government and 
 prepared to possess the land as far west as the 
 Hudson Eiver. People from Quinnipiac and the 
 valley planted settlements at Fairfield, Norwalk, 
 
268 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 Guilford, Stratford and Milford on the Housatonic. 
 Captain Patrick, the commander of a part of tlie 
 forces sent from Massacliusetts against the Pequods, 
 who had married a Dutch wife, settled as far west- 
 ward as Greenwich with a son-in-law of the elder 
 Governor Winthrop. At Ijhat time there were no 
 Dutch settlers east of the Harlem Elver, excepting 
 Bronck and his lessees or tenants. The Dutch, 
 however, continued in possession of their lands at 
 Good Hope, where a small garrison was kept. The 
 English had as little regard for the rights of the 
 Dutch as the Hollanders had formerly paid to the 
 rights of the English. As they grew stronger, they 
 plowed up the Dutchmen's lands, excusing them- 
 selves for the intrusion on the plea that the ground 
 was lying idle and ought to be cultivated by some- 
 body. The Dutch commissary attempted to resist 
 these encroachments; but the sturdy Englishmen 
 cudgeled his soldiers, declaring that they and the 
 English in Virginia were Egyptians — a term given 
 in derision, which at this day seems to have lost 
 its force. 
 
 The matter was discussed at New Amsterdam, 
 and the Dutch governor made a great bluster about 
 driving the English out of their domain. Hans 
 Van Brunt, who had been visiting his friend 
 Mathew at Plymouth, and whose knowledge of the 
 strength of the English was better than any other 
 
THE HABTFOBD CONVENTION. 369 
 
 man's in tlie New Netherland, was consulted as to 
 the advisability of driving the English out of Con- 
 necticut. 
 
 " They have a separate government and claim no 
 allegiance to the king of England," urged the 
 more belligerently inclined Dutch. 
 
 "Nevertheless, an attempt to expel them from 
 the valley of the Connecticut will involve us in a 
 war with England," answered Hans. 
 
 "Are they strong?" 
 
 "Not yet; but they daily increase in strength." 
 
 So the English in Connecticut, despite the 
 bluster of the Dutch at New Amsterdam, went on 
 planting and building, and emigrants continued to 
 pour into the "goodly country." The troubles 
 with their neighbors, both pale and dusky, and the 
 necessity which called for fundamental laws, in- 
 duced the planters of the valley to meet in conven- 
 tion at Hartford in the middle of January, 1639, 
 to form a constitution of government. Like that 
 of the New Haven Colony, it was framed without 
 the slightest reference to any other government. It 
 required that all persons of the commonwealth 
 should be freemen and should take an oath of 
 allegiance to the general government; that the 
 governor, to be elected at each spring meeting of 
 the freemen, should be a member of some church. 
 There should be as many magistrates, at no time 
 
370 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 to be less tlian six, as well as other officers, as 
 should be found necessary. There should be a 
 house of deputies, composed of four from each of 
 the then existing towns, and as many as the gen- 
 eral court or legislature should determine from 
 towns that might subsequently be created, and the 
 governor, four magistrates and a majority of the 
 deputies should be competent to make all laws 
 and deal generally for the good of the common- 
 wealth. In the absence of special laws, " the rule 
 of the word of Grod " was to be followed. Thus 
 were two governments alike democratic and theo- 
 cratic foi'med in Connecticut. 
 
 The instrument above referred to has been re- 
 garded as the "first example in history of a written 
 constitution, a distinct organic law, constituting a 
 government and defining its powers." It boldly 
 recognized no authority outside of its own inherent 
 powers, and it continued in force as the funda- 
 mental law of Connecticut one hundred and eighty 
 years. It secured for that commonwealth a degree 
 of social order and general prosperity rarely equalled 
 in the life of nations. The political organization 
 under it was called the Connecticut Colony, and 
 the domain acquired the title of the land of steady 
 habits. Although the two colonies were not united 
 until twenty-six years afterward, in the year 1639 
 
THE HARTFORD CONVENTION. 271 
 
 was laid the foundation of the commonwealtli of 
 Connecticut. 
 
 Tlie Hartford Convention was another nail in the 
 coffin of tyranny and monarchy. The infant col- 
 ony, cradled in liberty, could bring forth only 
 freemen. 
 
CHAPTEE XVI. 
 
 THE MISCHIEF-MAKER. 
 
 Oh, such a deed 
 As from the body of conti'action plucks 
 The very soul ; and sweet religion makes 
 A rhapsody of words. Heaven's face doth glow ; 
 Yea, this solidity and compound mass. 
 With tristful visage, as against the doom, 
 Is thought — sick at the act. 
 
 — Shakespeaee. 
 
 Some people seem born to make others misera- 
 ble, though the task should add to their own sor- 
 row; but it becomes their mission in life. They 
 are the children of darkness and serve their master, 
 even though it be against their own interests. 
 Francis Billington was such a person. He hated 
 people, because he could not help it. There was 
 no forgiveness nor forbearance in his nature. 
 
 A man who hates can never be trusted. He is 
 not a good citizen, and would make a partial mag- 
 istrate or juror. Billington' s son John had inher- 
 ited his father's disposition, and it brought his 
 career to an early end on the gallows. 
 
 373 
 
THE MISCHIEF-MAKER. 273 
 
 On the return of tlie soldiers from their success- 
 ful Pequod campaign, fearing he would be pun- 
 ished for his effort to assassinate Mathew Stevens, 
 Billington fled once more into the wilderness. 
 Whither he had gone no one knew until a report 
 was brought to the village that a man answering 
 his description had been seen at New Amsterdam. 
 The people congratulated themselves on being rid 
 of him forever. A change quickly came over 
 Alice and her mother. Not long after it was cur- 
 rently reported that Sarah White had been known 
 to sraile, and that her cheek, so long haggard and 
 pale, had assumed a flush of health. This, if true, 
 was remarkable, for no one had known Sarah 
 White to smile for years. 
 
 The change was even greater in Alice. A 
 neighbor passing the cottage actually heard her 
 singing. Birds only sing when happy, and if Alice 
 sang, she must be nearing the land'of happiness. 
 
 Mathew returned safe from the war in far-off 
 Connecticut, loaded with honors. Since his return 
 the young captain was seen more frequently with 
 .Alice, and the good dames put their heads together, 
 and began to whisper that there would be another 
 wedding soon. 
 
 "Why don't they wed?" Mrs. Hopkins asked, 
 as she plied her knitting needles, on the afternoon 
 of her call on Mrs. Fuller. 
 18 
 
274 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 "I know not," was Mrs. Fuller's answer, as she 
 picked her wool for the cards. 
 
 "Mathew is old enough," continued Mrs. Hop- 
 kins. "His hair which I can remember on the 
 Mayflower as being black as midnight is now 
 sprinkled with gray." 
 
 "Ah! " he was a blythe young lad then," re- 
 turned Nancy Fuller. "I remember our voyage 
 on the Mayflower as well as if it were but yester- 
 day. Those were trying times, Mary Hopkins." 
 
 "You speak truly, Nancy, "good dame Hopkins 
 answered. "We were Pilgrims, bound we knew 
 not where." 
 
 "Unless to Heaven." 
 
 "Alas, Nancy, many did go. Don't I remem- 
 ber how poor Rose Standish sickened and died?" 
 
 "And then followed good Mr. Mullins and Gov- 
 ernor Carver and others so rapidly, that I thought 
 we should all perish," and the good dames shook 
 their heads until the ruffles of their caps trembled. 
 Realizing that they had slightly wandered from the 
 subject, Nancy Hopkins returned to it by saying: 
 
 "I did hear that he was seen last Sabbath talk- 
 ing quite seriously with her." 
 
 "Did you?" 
 
 "Yes, Priscilla Alden — she as was Priscilla 
 Mullins — told me, and she hopes they will soon 
 wed." 
 
THE MISCHIEF-MAKER. 275 
 
 "Did they ever quarrel?" 
 
 "People say not." 
 
 "Then wherefore do they delay the wedding?" 
 
 "That is the mystery." 
 
 This was the mystery which puzzled the whole 
 colony. Mathew learned of the disappearance of 
 Billington soon after his return, and was among 
 the first to note the great change that was produced 
 in Alice and her mother. One day while walking 
 with Alice, he said: 
 
 "Billington will never come back." 
 
 A cloud swept over her fair face as she an- 
 swered : 
 
 "Mother says he will." 
 
 "Why does she'think so?" 
 
 "He has gone away so often, and she hoped it 
 was forever; but he always returned." 
 
 "Bid your mother never fear, Alice. He can 
 do her no harm. The poisonous fangs of that 
 human reptile have been drawn. Since his bold 
 attempt on my life, he will be watched." 
 
 She grew paler as he recalled the attempted as- 
 sassination, and with a shudder exclaimed: 
 
 "He may yet slay you." 
 
 "Fear not', Alice," he responded cheerfully. 
 "We are emerging from a state of barbarism into 
 a glorious state of civilization. We have a regular 
 government and officers, who boldly execute the- 
 
276 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 laws. He cannot harm me. The fate of his son 
 will be a standing menace to him, should he ever 
 return, which I do not believe he will ever dare to 
 do." 
 
 From discussing Billington and his disappearance, 
 Mathew began once more to plead his cause with 
 Alice. " Alice, I love you and you only, as my 
 constancy in all these years proves. Our sands of 
 life are running out; why not go down the valley 
 of life together?" 
 
 Tears welled up in her eyes as she answered: 
 "Not yet; I cannot consent to accept the name 
 of an honorable man, while mother withholds that 
 secret." 
 
 "If you knew that secret would you wed me?" 
 "Could I lay bare my whole life's history and 
 say, ' this or this is the blot on my name; now 
 you know all ' and you still persisted in making 
 me your wife, I would consent." 
 
 "Your mother is cruel to retain the secret." 
 "Her seeming cruelty may be kindness." 
 "No, no. Terrible as it may be, the reality can- 
 not equal suspense and conjecture. Has she prom- 
 ised you she would reveal it?" 
 
 "Indirectly; but she puts me off." 
 
 "She must tell!" 
 
 "Must?" 
 
 "Yes, must," and the lines on his face were 
 
THE MISCHIEF-MAKER. 277 
 
 hard and Arm. "She shall tell one or both. 
 Our lives are being wasted in misery, and I will 
 know what the blighting secret is that blasts our 
 happiness." 
 
 "Shall I tell her this?" 
 
 "Tell her for me she must reveal it now. We 
 will know the very worst," he declared almost 
 fiercely. 
 
 Then they strolled along the forest path in si- 
 lence. Their resolution was formed and they were 
 happy. Through the deep green vistas where the 
 boughs arched overhead and showed the sunlight 
 flashing in the beautiful perspective ; through dewy 
 fern, from which the startled hare leaped and fled 
 at their approach; by mantled pools and fallen 
 trees, and down in hollow places rustling among 
 last year's leaves, whose scent awoke sad memories 
 of the past, the lovers strolled. By meadow gates 
 and fence rows fragrant with wild flowers, and by 
 thatched cottages, whose inmates looked with satis- 
 faction on the pair for whom the whole colony was 
 solicitous, they walked in tranquil meditation. The 
 bee passed onward, humming of the work it had 
 to do; the idle gnats congregated in small swarms, 
 forever going round and round in one contracting 
 or expanding ring, yet seeming to keep before 
 them, dancing in the sunlight; the colors of the 
 long grass came and went as if the light clouds 
 
378 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 floating in the air intimidated it, and tlie birds, 
 seeming to partake of the inward joy of these fond 
 hearts, sang gayly, sang as they had never sung 
 before. When within sight of the cottage, Mathew 
 stopped and said: 
 
 "I will go no farther. The matter must be left 
 wholly with you." 
 
 "I will do it," she answered firmly. 
 
 " Get the truth — the whole truth, be it ever so 
 black and damning." 
 
 "I will." 
 
 "Do it this very night." 
 
 "That I shall." 
 
 "And on the morrow, when I hear it from your 
 lips, I will show you quickly that I live not in the 
 past, but the present. Be the stain ever so black, 
 I will say, 'Alice, be mine!' " 
 
 She raised her glad eyes, dimmed with joy, to 
 his face ; her heart gave a wild throb of hope, and 
 she involuntarily exclaimed: 
 
 "0 Mathew!" 
 
 He sprang to her side, his arm encircled her 
 waist, and with his face aglow with joy, he gasped: 
 
 "Alice " 
 
 "No, no; wait until the morrow," she inter- 
 rupted, gently putting him aside. "For the pres- 
 ent, adieu!" 
 
 She ran away up the hill, and paused near a 
 
THE MISCHIEF-MAKER. 879 
 
 gnarled oak to look back at him. He had already 
 turned about and was slowly wending his way 
 homeward. Alice was still several rods from her 
 cottage, when she discovered a man walking rap- 
 idly along another path toward it. Involuntarily, 
 she clasped her hand to her heart. Her breath 
 grew heavy and clogged, and she clung to a tree 
 for support. That man she would know in any 
 land or any disguise. 
 
 "He has returned!" she sobbed. "Alas, 
 mother's predictions are true." 
 
 His clothes were old and faded, and his beard 
 long and white. His frame was slightly bent be- 
 neath the weight of years. One feels a reverence 
 for a gray-haired saint, blooming for heaven ; but 
 the aged sinner is so repulsive that one turns from 
 him with loathing and disgust. There was noth- 
 ing in Francis Billington, old and white-haired 
 though he had grown, calculated to inspire respect. 
 He was a matured devil and more dangerous in his 
 advancing years than when younger, for he was 
 nearer to his master. 
 
 "He has returned as mother said," Alice gasped. 
 
 Then, moved by some strange impulse, she fol- 
 lowed him up the hill. He was going directly to 
 her mother's cottage. Behind the green arbor, 
 near enough to hear all that would be said, she 
 paused, He halted at the door and rapped, Sarah 
 
380 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 White opened the door and started back, ex- 
 claiming: 
 
 "Lord, deliver me!" 
 
 There was a strange look on Billington's face. 
 It was no longer triumphant, but almost melan- 
 choly. He leaned against the side of the door and 
 said: 
 
 "I have seen him." 
 
 Sarah White wrung her hands, and breathed a 
 short prayer. 
 
 "He lives," Billington added and, turning 
 slowly about, left the premises. Lost in amaze- 
 ment at what she had seen and heard, Alice could 
 only repeat: 
 
 " 'I have seen him. He lives.' " Whom had 
 he seen? Who lived? She would have given 
 worlds to know. Had another link been forged in 
 the chain of fate which was dragging her down to 
 misery? The sun had set, and the sober gray of 
 twilight begun to envelope the earth, before she 
 I'ecovered sufficiently to carry out the resolution 
 she and Mathew had formed. 
 
 "I will go. I will know whom he has seen, 
 and who lives. It is a duty she owes me." 
 
 Mathew was walking slowly homeward, when a 
 step near by startled him. Turning, he saw a man 
 leaning upon a stout staff. A glance at his repul- 
 
THE MISCHIEF-MAKER. 281 
 
 sive face, whitened hair and beard, and he knew 
 him. 
 
 "You have come back," he said. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Can you give surety for future good behavior?" 
 
 " Fear not, Mathew ; I am done witli vengeance. " 
 
 " Since when have you adopted so good a reso- 
 lution?" 
 
 "Verily, ' it is hard to kick against the pricks.' 
 He who raises his arm in rebellion against God, 
 will learn in the end that he has fed upon the 
 husks. I have been tossed about here and there, 
 and in my old age have come to acknowledge the 
 goodness of God, so I abide his decree, hoping 
 thereby to receive mercy." 
 
 " 'Tis often thus," Mathew returned. "Men go 
 through life in defiance of their Creator. Their 
 young and vigorous days are spent in rebellion, 
 and when, under the icy blasts of age, their hair 
 blooms for the grave, and they are no longer ser- 
 viceable to Satan, they desert him and return to 
 God. Having cheated God with their life, they 
 cheat the devil in death. I would not treat even 
 the devil so meanly." 
 
 "Be not too hard on me, Mathew. Perchance 
 there may be some good in me yet." 
 
 Mathew had no confidence in his pretended re- 
 formation. They sat upon the mossy bank of the 
 
283 THE PILORIMS. 
 
 brooklet, whose gentle waters rippled over the peb- 
 bles at the bottom. A squirrel ran nimbly along 
 the path, paused a moment and, rearing itself on 
 its hind legs, gazed at the strangers, then frisked 
 up a tree, halting at the fork to peep saucily at 
 them. Mathew saw it not, heard not the mourn- 
 ful song of the streamlet, for his thoughts were 
 on the man before him, and he was asking himself 
 what new diabolical scheme he was planning. 
 
 Billington at last broke the silence by asking: 
 
 "Mathew, have ye a brother?" 
 
 "I do not know." 
 
 "Are ye a Spaniard by birth?" 
 
 "I have so been told." 
 
 "Do ye know where ye were born?" 
 
 "Probably at St. Augustine, Florida." 
 
 "Are yer parents living?" 
 
 "I know not." 
 
 "When were ye brought from Florida?" 
 
 "About 1586, by Sir Francis Drake. What is 
 your motive in these questions?" 
 
 " Perchance I can clear up some of the mystery 
 which surrounds yer early life." 
 
 Mathew had no faith in either his ability to 
 clear up the mystery, or his desire to do so; but 
 there was nothing in his past life, so far as he 
 knew, to conceal. He nodded, and Billington 
 went on: 
 
THE MISCHIEF-MAKER. 383 
 
 " I have heard that there lives a man in Virginia 
 named Stevens." 
 
 "But my name in Spanish was Estevan." 
 
 "So was his." 
 
 "How old is he?" 
 
 " About yer own age, perchance two or three 
 years older." 
 
 "Is he of Spanish descent?" 
 
 "He is." 
 
 "Do you know his full name?" 
 
 "Philip Stevens, or Philip Estevan." 
 
 Mathew gave Billington a searching glance, 
 which seemed to say, "I will see if you tell me 
 the truth." What object could Billington have in 
 telling a falsehood? The man who had proved 
 Mathew's enemy met his gaze unflinchingly and 
 continued: 
 
 " The source from whence I derive my informa- 
 tion is reliable. While in New Amsterdam, I 
 met a man, who had been for several months in 
 Jamestown, Virginia, and he informed me that 
 there lived a man there named Philip Stevens, who 
 was born in St. Augustine, Florida." 
 
 "Did you learn anything more of him?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "It may be my brother Philip," Mathew 
 thought. 
 
 Brother! How sweet yet strange the word 
 
384 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 sounded to him who had never known a relative! 
 He had no recollection of his captivity, nor of his 
 parents. Often since he had been told the story 
 of his life by Mr. Eobinson, he had thought of 
 his brother Philip and wished that they might 
 meet. He was so strongly impressed that his brother 
 was dead, that he thought if there lived a Philip 
 Stevens in Virginia, it must be of some other 
 family. 
 
 Yet his brother had been a roving sailor, and 
 nothing was more probable than that he had settled 
 in some part of the New World. Eising, he took a 
 step nearer to Billington, and asked: 
 
 "Have you told me the truth, or was this story 
 hatched up, to raise false hopes?" 
 
 "As God lives, I heard the story. Whether it 
 be true or false I cannot say," Billington answered. 
 
 Mathew went home. Entering his room, his 
 eyes fell on the quaint, old-fashioned chest. Every 
 time he entered this apartment this old Spanish 
 chest had met his eye, until it ceased to be an 
 object of curiosity: but now it assumed a new in- 
 terest to him. 
 
 He went to it and raised the lid. The lock had 
 been broken by Sir Francis Drake in his eagerness 
 to ascertain its contents. 
 
 Many strange emotions swayed his soul as he ten- 
 derly lifted the lid. His father and mother had 
 
THE MISOHIEF-MAKER 
 
 385 
 
 once touched that lid. Were they living or dead? 
 Stooping, he took out the old manuscript, written 
 
 Strange emotions swayed his soul as he lifted the lid. 
 
 no doubt by his father and, gazing on the old 
 parchment yellow with age, said, "Would that I 
 could read it! It might go far toward unravelling 
 
286 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 the mystery of my life." As he carefully put it 
 away, he added, " The first Spaniard that lands in 
 New England shall translate it for me." 
 
 He closed the lid, and sat writing letters until a 
 late hour, when he went to bed. 
 
 While Mathew slept, Alice was passing through 
 the most trying ordeal of her life. On entering 
 the house, she found her mother more agitated than 
 she had ever been before, while the startled look 
 in her eyes bordered on insanity. She said 
 nothing until late in the evening, when she sud- 
 denly paused in her work at the spinning-wheel 
 and asked: 
 
 "Mother, whom had he seen?" 
 
 Sarah White knew that she referred to the re- 
 mark of Billington, and answered: 
 
 "Hush, Alice." 
 
 "Who still lives?"^ 
 
 "Don't ask me now, Alice. You shall know 
 all soon." 
 
 "I must know all now, mother." 
 
 "In God's holy name, I beseech you do not 
 seek to probe that secret at this time." 
 
 "Mother, I must," the daughter answered, tears 
 streaming down her cheeks. 
 
 "Wait." 
 
 "I have waited; I have waited for years. I 
 have seen the blooming hours of youth flit by like 
 
THE MISCHIEF-MAKER. 387 
 
 larks skimming over the meadow. I bave seen 
 children grow up to he men and women. My young 
 life has heen withered and blighted, as if by a 
 curse. It shall be so no longer. Mother," she 
 concluded fiercely, "I will know that secret!" 
 
 Her mother sank into a chair and buried her 
 face in her hands. Though she trembled from 
 head to foot, neither sob nor groan escaped her 
 throat. "Without daring to look ou the face of her 
 daughter, she murmured: 
 
 "Alice, it is for you — spare me!" 
 
 "I cannot. I will not spare myself." 
 
 "You will drive me mad — you will drive me 
 mad!" 
 
 " Your silence will drive me mad. Tell me that 
 secret, be it so humiliating that I bury my head in 
 the dust. Be it so blighting that it withers as the 
 hottest fire, I will bear it." 
 
 "0 God, help me to change this mad resolu- 
 tion ! I would spare her, my great love for her 
 would spare her." 
 
 "Whom has Billington seen, mother? Who 
 lives?" 
 
 "Ask me not." 
 
 "I will ask in trumpet tones, until I get your 
 answer." 
 
 "Would you kill me? Would you have me 
 hide my head from all who know me? Would you 
 
288 THE PILGRIMS: 
 
 have me never look upon the face of my own child 
 again?" 
 
 " Your mystery is killing me, mother. You are 
 blighting my happiness. Tell me, be the secret 
 ever so black. If you have crosses I will help 
 you bear them. Let me know all, then I will tell 
 it to Mathew. Who knows but his love may o'er- 
 leap any chasm?" 
 
 The mother rose like one with a suddenly formed 
 resolution and, in a voice that was strangely calm, 
 said: 
 
 "Alice, give me a few hours." 
 
 "How many?" 
 
 "Until morning." 
 
 "Will you tell me then?" 
 
 "Yes. I swore I would never breathe his 
 name; but I will seek absolution from the oath. 
 You shall know all when next you see me." 
 
 " Whose name did you swear never to breathe — 
 my father's?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Was he a villain?" 
 
 "You shall judge." 
 
 Alice thought nothing of her mother's words at 
 the time; but subsequent events were destined to 
 forcibly recall them to her mind. She went to 
 bed, and in the hope of having the mystery of 
 years unravelled next morning, fell asleep. Her 
 
THE MISCHIEF-MAKER. 289 
 
 mother did not retire, and when Alice slept 
 soundly, she crept to the bedside, gazed for a mo- 
 ment on her face, then, falling on her knees, raised 
 her eyes to heaven in mute appeal. She arose, 
 ■wrote a few lines on a slip of paper, and pinned it 
 to the pillow of the sleeping girl. 
 
 This done, she made up a bundle of a few efEects, 
 put on her stout shoes, her hood and her cloak. 
 At the door she paused a moment, went back and 
 kissed the forehead of her sleeping daughter and, 
 turning, quitted the house. The door was closed 
 so softly that the sleeper was not disturbed. Once 
 outside, she went down the path, crossed the ra- 
 vine, and went up the hill to the cabin of John 
 Billington, where she paused and rapped. A re- 
 pulsive head in a red night-cap was poked out of 
 the window near the door. 
 
 "What do you want?" Billington asked. 
 
 "Where did you see him?" 
 
 "At New Amsterdam." 
 
 The head disappeared within the house, and she 
 hurried away into the forest. 
 19 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 MARYLAND. 
 
 Men, who their duties know, 
 But know their rights and, knowing, dare maintain ; 
 
 Prevent the long aimed blow. 
 And crush the tyrant, while they rend the chain ; 
 
 These constitute a State. 
 
 — Jones. 
 
 When Lord Baltimore found the Roman Catho- 
 lics in England suffering from the persecutions of 
 the Puritans on one side, who were daily increas- 
 ing, and the Churchmen on the other, he piously 
 decided to provide for them an asylum in America. 
 When he sailed in the summer of 1627 for Avalon, 
 for the purpose of inspecting in person, with view 
 to planting there, the nobleman had in his com- 
 pany a man whose appearance and address were cal- 
 culated to excite the attention of even a casual 
 observer. 
 
 He had the singular appearance of one who had 
 
 all his life been engaged in a fruitless search. , He 
 
 was a very quiet person, and was scarcely ever 
 
 known to mingle with the crowd. He was past 
 
 290 
 
MARYLAND. 391 
 
 middle age, tall and graceful, witli rather thin, 
 cadaverous features. His blue eyes were grave and 
 melancholy, his face wore an expression of sadness, 
 and his hair was silvered almost to whiteness, while 
 his well-trimmed beard was just a shade darker 
 than his hair. 
 
 One might, from his gravity, suspect him of 
 being a priest; then his erect form and martial bear- 
 ing would on the other hand indicate the soldier. 
 He was a man of wealth, and was very liberal with 
 his money. The stranger was a man of few words, 
 and on no occasion and under no circumstance 
 could he be induced to speak of the past. It was 
 not known from whence he had come. Although 
 a man who had beyond a doubt travelled exten- 
 sively, he never referred to the countries he had 
 seen. This singular individual, in whom Lord 
 Baltimore placed the greatest confidence, was known 
 as Mr. William Eoby. There was an unauthentic 
 rumor afloat that he had been in Flanders. 
 
 Tradition spoke of a brave Colonel Roby, who 
 had distinguished himself in the wars in Flanders. 
 Captain Miles Standish of New Plymouth had 
 once met him, and had heard many stories of his 
 gallant deeds during the wars. It was not known 
 positively whether this man was a relative of 
 Colonel Roby or not. Once a fellow, more inquis- 
 itive than polite, ventured to ask him. The resuH 
 
293 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 of the interview was never known; but certainly 
 it was not satisfactory, and if any information were 
 gained from the gloomy stranger, it was never im- 
 parted. Mr. Eoby was a devout Catholic. Some 
 said that he was a widower, others that he had 
 never been married, while still others hinted that 
 he had been a polygamist, having a dozen wives 
 in different parts of the world. 
 
 In the year 1627, this mysterious man sailed 
 with Lord Baltimore in a ship which carried twenty 
 cannon as a protection against the French. A few 
 friends and some priests accompanied them. After 
 remaining a few months at Avalon, they returned 
 to England, and the next spring, when Lord Balti- 
 more sailed for New Foundland with his second 
 wife and all his children, excepting those married, 
 William Roby, who had earned the soubriquet of 
 the "silent man," went with him. The winter 
 which followed was so severe, that next spring 
 Baltimore sent his children home and, with his 
 wife, Roby and several friends, sailed to Virginia, 
 arriving at Jamestown in October. When Balti- 
 more appeared before Governor Harvey and his 
 council and was asked what was his purpose in 
 Virginia, he answered: 
 
 "To plant and dwell." 
 
 " Will you take the oath, which we have taken?" 
 asked the governor. 
 
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 NORTH AMERICA 
 
 PERIOD 1620 TO 1643 
 
 DRAWN FOR 
 THE PILGRIMS 
 
 
 
MARYLAND. 293 
 
 " I cannot with a good conscience," was Balti- 
 more's answer. 
 
 " Then you must leave on the first ship hence 
 for England," Governor Harvey declared. 
 
 A scene followed that was simply disgraceful. 
 One of the Virginia cavaliers named Thomas Tin- 
 dall called Lord Baltimore a liar and threatened to 
 knock him down. The fellow was sent to the pil- 
 lory for the insult. Cruel as was the order to leave 
 the country. Lord Baltimore was forced to obey it. 
 Permission was gained for him to leave his wife 
 and relatives at Jamestown, until he could secure 
 a locality to settle them in. In the care of Mr. 
 William Eoby, who had decided to wait at James- 
 town, he left his wife until he should return. 
 During his stay at Jamestown, Eoby formed the 
 acquaintance of PhilijD Stevens, a stout young 
 colonist, for whom, in his cold way, he entertained 
 an attachment. Though Philip talked quite freely 
 of his own past life, Eoby was silent as to his. 
 Occasionally he asked Philip a question. Those 
 questions were asked at great intervals apart, and 
 were couched in studied language which required 
 full explanations. The questions usually were 
 about some English family. Philip, though a, 
 Spaniard by birth, had been long enough in Eng- 
 land to know something of its people; but the 
 silent man's shrewdest questions failed to elicit the 
 
294 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 desired information. Mr. Eoby still continued his 
 search. Search, search, search. He had sought 
 the earth over, and his task was not yet accom- 
 plished. 
 
 In 1630, Lord Baltimore returned, bringing with 
 him a patent from King Charles for a territory 
 south of the James River, for the rigors of the cli- 
 mate, the barrenness of the soil of Avalon, and the 
 menaces of the French, had caused him to aban- 
 don his domain in New Foundland. The Virginia 
 Company made so much opposition to his new 
 charter, that Baltimore was induced to surrender it 
 and accept one for territory north and east of the Po- 
 tomac, embracing the Chesapeake Bay, which he 
 had previously explored. 
 
 This change necessitated another return to Eng- 
 land. Again he left his wife and a few of his 
 friends in Virginia, and hastened back to confer 
 with the king. Lord Baltimore wanted to call the 
 newly chartered domain Crescendia; but, in defer- 
 ence to the king, when the charter was drawn up, 
 the space for the name was left blank that his maj- 
 esty might fill it as he pleased. When Baltimore 
 appeared before Charles to receive his signature to 
 the document, the monarch asked: 
 
 "What will you name the country?" 
 
 "I have referred the matter to your majesty," 
 answered Baltimore. 
 
MARYLAND. 295 
 
 "Then let us name it for the queen. What do 
 you think of Mariana?" 
 
 The expert courtier answered: 
 
 "I would not like that name, your majesty, for 
 it is the name of the Spanish historian who taught 
 the dangerous heresjr that the will of the people is 
 higher than the law of tyrants. I do not care to 
 perpetuate his name." 
 
 The king, still disposed to compliment his queen, 
 reflected a moment and said : 
 
 "Let it be Terra Maria." (Mary Land.) So 
 it was that in the charater the province was named 
 Maryland, in honor of Queen Henrietta Mary. 
 The charter was prepared; but before the great 
 seal of England was affixed to it. Lord Baltimore 
 suddenly died in London. His son Cecil, Lord 
 Baltimore, falling heir to his estates and titles, a 
 few months after received the charter, which bore 
 the date June 20th, 1632. The territory covered 
 by the patent extended along each side of the 
 Chesapeake Bay, from the fortieth degree to the 
 mouth of the Potomac and westward along the line 
 of that river. 
 
 The Maryland charter was probably drawn up 
 by the first Lord Baltimore. It was evidently 
 copied substantially from the one granted by 
 Charles to his attorney-general. Sir Eobert Heath, 
 for Carolinia, a territory south of the Eoanoke 
 
396 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 River. No monarch nor monopolist had yet ex- 
 tended such great democratic privileges as were 
 given in the Maryland charter. The territory was 
 declared "out of the plentitude of royal power; " 
 the people were exempt from taxation by the crown, 
 except by their own consent, and other important 
 privileges were secured to them. It silently toler- 
 ated all religious sects. While it directed the 
 dedication and consecration of "churches, chapels, 
 and places of worship," in accordance with the 
 prescription of the ecclesiastical laws of England, 
 the matter of state theology was left untouched and 
 within the legislative powers of the colonists them- 
 selves. This toleration was a wise provision. It 
 promoted the growth of the colony when it was 
 established, for those who were persecuted by the 
 Puritans of New England and the Churchmen of 
 Virginia found in Maryland a place of refuge and 
 peace. The charter provided that the proprietary 
 should have "free, full and absolute powers to 
 enact all laws necessary for the common good; not, 
 however, without the advice, consent and appro- 
 bation of the freemen of the province or their rep- 
 resentatives convoked in general assembly." This 
 was the first time any provision had been made in 
 an American patent for securing to the citizen a 
 share in legislation. 
 
 With this charter young Lord Baltimore set sail 
 
MARYLAND. 39'r 
 
 from England to colonize his domain, not so much 
 as an asylum for his persecuted co-religionists, as 
 to secure pecuniary gain to himself. He appointed 
 his half-brother, Leonard Calvert, governor, and 
 on the 23d of November, 1633, that kinsman with 
 his brother, "with very near twenty other gentle- 
 men of very good fashion and three hundred la- 
 boring men," sailed from Cowes, in the Isle of 
 Wight, in two ships. The Ark and The Dove. 
 Some of the gentlemen and laboring men as well 
 were Eoman Catholics; but by far the greater por- 
 tion of the laboring men were Protestants, who 
 took the oath of supremacy before leaving Eng- 
 land. Two Jesuit priests. Fathers Andrew White 
 and John Altham, accompanied t e emigrants. 
 Eeligious services were performed just as they were 
 on the point of departure. A gentle east wind 
 was blowing, and, " committing themselves to the 
 protection of God especially, and His most Holy 
 Mother and St. Ignatius and all the guardian angels 
 of Maryland," they set sail. 
 
 For some unknown reason, the colonists took 
 the tedious southern route by way of the Canaries 
 and West Indies. The perils of the Needles on 
 the coast of the Isle of Wight were passed, when 
 they were chased by a Turkish cruiser, then the 
 dread of all Christian seamen. But they fell in 
 with a large English merchantman, called The 
 
398 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 Dragon^ wliicb. was well armed, and it drove away 
 tlie Turkisli pirate and convoyed them beyond the 
 danger line. Two days later they were overtaken 
 by a furious gale. The Dragon was forced to turn 
 back, and the emigrant vessels went forward alone. 
 With the approach of night the tempest increased. 
 The Dove was the smaller and weaker of the two 
 vessels, and great apprehensions were entertained 
 for the vessel and its passengers. They notified 
 the officers of The Ark that in case of danger they 
 would hang out a lantern at the masthead. That 
 signal of distress appeared about midnight, and 
 for a few minutes the light could be seen rocking 
 and swaying with the motion of the waves; then 
 it suddenly vanished. "All are lost!" thought 
 the tenants of The Ark, and "they grieved sorely. " 
 They had no doubt that The Dove was at rest at 
 the bottom of the sea, with all on board. 
 
 For three terrible days the tempest swept the 
 ocean, and then the storm culminated in a most 
 terrific rain-storm and hurricane, which threatened 
 the destruction of all in its path. It seemed as if 
 "all the malicious spirits of the storm and all the 
 evil genii of Maryland had come forth to battle " 
 and sink the ship. Master, passengers and crew 
 gave themselves up for lost, and well they might. 
 Their mainsail was split from top to bottom, the 
 rudder was unshipped, and the vessel was at the 
 
MARYLAND. 299 
 
 mercy of the wind and waves. In mortal dread, 
 tlie passengers had recourse to the only comfort 
 that never fails, prayer. Falling on their knees, 
 they prayed, and the Eoman Catholics uttered 
 vows in honor of "the Blessed Virgin Mary and 
 her Immaculate Conception, of St. Ignatius, the 
 patron saint of Maryland, St. Michael, and all the 
 guardian angels of the same country." Father 
 White, in a letter to a friend, wrote of this trying 
 event : 
 
 " I had taken myself to prayer when the sea was 
 raging its worst, and (may this be to the glory of 
 God) I had scarcely finished, when they observed 
 that the storm was abating." The storm abated 
 and for three months the voyagers had delightful 
 weather, although nothing was seen of The Dove. 
 
 After the tempest. The Ark steered for Bonavista, 
 one of the Cape Verde islands, but altered her 
 course and entered the harbor of the island of 
 Barbadoes, on the eastern verge of the Antilles, 
 where her people, all regarded as Roman Catholics, 
 were coldly received and charged extravagant prices 
 for the provisions they were compelled to purchase. 
 While here, they learned that they had narrowly 
 escaped a Spanish fleet lying at Bonavista, and 
 also another peril in the port at which they had 
 arrived. The slaves on the island, driven to des- 
 peration by cruelty, had conspired to murder their 
 
800 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 masters, seize the first sliip that should appear, and 
 put to sea. The conspiracy had just been dis- 
 covered and the ringleaders hung. Further joy 
 awaited them, for they were scarcely well in port, 
 when The Dove, after a six weeks' separation, re- 
 turned to The Ark. In the terrible gale, finding 
 she could not weather the storm, she had put back 
 and taken refuge in the Scilly Isles, from whence 
 she sailed as soon as the weather would permit in 
 search of her consort. 
 
 After a short sojourn at Barbadoes, the emi- 
 grants left, passed several islands of the Antilles, 
 near one of which they encountered canoes full of 
 naked and painted cannibals, and late in February 
 they sailed in between the capes of Virginia. 
 They touched at Point Comfort and then went up 
 toward Jamestown, where royal letters, borne by 
 Calvert, secured for them a friendly reception from 
 Governor Harvey. 
 
 The reader will remember that some of the elder 
 Lord Baltimore's people had been left in James- 
 town, and among them was the man William Eoby. 
 Mysterious, silent and melancholy, he had been 
 wandering about the colony from town to town, as 
 if engaged in a search for some one. "Whenever 
 a new vessel came into port, he was the first at the 
 quay, "scanning the faces of the passengers as if 
 trying to discover some particular person ; but in- 
 
MABYLAND. 801 
 
 variably, after he had seen all debark, he turned 
 away with a sigh of disappointment. He had 
 made his home with Philip Stevens while in Vir- 
 ginia. Here the mysterious man received the 
 kindest treatment, which in his way he appreciated. 
 Although he had been called the silent man, he 
 really was not silent, save as to his own past life. 
 Of other people he frequently talked, though he 
 said nothing of himself. 
 
 One day he stood on the quay watching a ship- 
 load of immigrants disembark, and Philip Stevens 
 was near him noting the curious interest he mani- 
 fested. When all had landed, he turned away, 
 heaving his usual sigh and saying: 
 
 "Forever doomed to disappointment." 
 
 "Were you expecting some one?" Philip asked. 
 
 Philip meant no offence by his question ; but the 
 eyes of Mr. Eoby flashed fire, and he glared at him 
 much as a miser might at a thief who had caught 
 him counting his gold. 
 
 " I meant no offence, Mr. Eoby, " Philip hastened 
 to explain. 
 
 "Did you hear me say anything?" Eoby 
 asked. 
 
 "You said you were disappointed." 
 
 "Did I say I expected any one?" 
 
 "No; or I should not have asked you; but 
 your look and manner did indicate it." 
 
303 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 "Think nothing about it; I expected no one," 
 and, with a great effort to regain his self-posses- 
 sion, he hurried away. 
 
 "Marry!" quoth Philip, "but our friend is 
 strange." 
 
 " He is wrong here," said Alexander Bradwaye, 
 pointing to his forehead and shaking his snow-white 
 locks. Philip, who had heard the remark of the 
 old man, turned to him and answered: 
 
 "No, he is mysterious, that is all." 
 
 "Where did he come from?" asked Brad- 
 waye. 
 
 "He came with the first Lord Baltimore, who 
 died some months since." 
 
 "Where was he before he joined Lord Balti- 
 more?" 
 
 "No one knows," Philip answered. "He is a 
 man without a past." 
 
 "A man without a past," repeated the old col- 
 onist, removing his hat and passing his hand over 
 bis bald head. "Yea, verily, there may be some- 
 thing in his past which he doth not care to have 
 people know. A man without a past hath a dark 
 past that he would conceal." 
 
 "I know not what his motives are; yet he is a 
 man of sound discretion, and good morals." 
 
 "What religion?" 
 
 "A Catholic." 
 
MARYLAND. 303 
 
 Bradwaye, who hated Catholics, muttered: 
 
 "Marry! There is no discretion or good morals 
 among papists." 
 
 . "Don't say that, Bradwaye. My father is a 
 papist and so were all my ancestors. Trace your 
 own back a few generations, and you will also find 
 papists among them." 
 
 "Zounds! what you say is true, friend Philip; 
 yet it makes it none the less a crime to be a papist 
 in this age of reason." 
 
 Knowing the peculiarities of his old friend, 
 Philip Stevens did not seek to discuss the matter 
 with him, but hastened away to find Mr. Roby and 
 assure him that he had not intended to offend him. 
 He did not find him, and that evening, when he 
 failed to return to the house, he began to feel some 
 uneasiness about him. He went to a Catholic 
 priest, who had come with Lord Baltimore, and 
 asked him if he had seen Mr. Roby. 
 
 "I have not, my son; but I believe that he will 
 come back. He hath a peculiar malady of seeking 
 seclusion at times." 
 
 Comforted by this assurance, Philip went home 
 and gave him no more serious thought. Two or 
 three days later Mr. Roby returned. There was 
 no change in his manner. A few days after his 
 return, he asked Philip: 
 
 "Have you any relatives besides your father?" 
 
304 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 "I si]ppose I have, tliougli I know not to a cer- 
 tainty." 
 
 "A brother or a sister?" 
 
 "A brother." 
 
 "Where is he?" 
 
 "He was at Leyden, Holland, with the Puritans; 
 but I have since heard that he emigrated to New 
 England." 
 
 "New England," Mr. Eoby repeated slowly. 
 Then, in an absent-minded sort of way, he added: 
 "I have never been there yet. Is he a Puritan?" 
 
 "Such probably was his training." 
 
 "What is his name?" 
 
 "Mathew." 
 
 "Mathew Stevens?" 
 
 "Mathew Stevens, or Mattheo Estevan; such is 
 our name in Spanish." 
 
 "Have you ever written to him?" 
 
 "No. My father and I contemplated a visit to 
 Plymouth in order to make -search for him, when 
 father met with an accident. The Indian war 
 broke out, and we have not been able to make the 
 voyage, though probably we shall do so next year." 
 
 Though Mr. Eoby seemed to take the keenest 
 interest in the history of everybody else, he kept a 
 strict silence as to himself, and when Calvert en- 
 tered the James Eiver to take the immigrants away 
 to their territory, the good people of Jamestown 
 
MARYLAND. 805 
 
 Icnew as little about him as when he first came to 
 the colony. 
 
 Nine days Calvert tarried at Jamestown and then 
 sailed for the Chesapeake, entering the broad mouth 
 of the Potomac Eiver. The emigrants v/ere de- 
 lighted with the great stream and the beautiful 
 scenery along the shore, and gave it the name of 
 St. Gregory, in honor of the canonized Pope of 
 that name. 
 
 "Never have I beheld a larger or more beautiful 
 river," wrote Father White. " The Thames seems 
 a mere rivulet in comparison with it. It is not dis- 
 figured by swamps, but has firm land on each side. 
 Fine groves of trees appear, not choked with briers, 
 or bushes, or undergrowth, but growing at inter- 
 vals, as if planted by man, so you can drive a four- 
 horse carriage wherever you choose, through the 
 midst of the trees. Just at the mouth of the river 
 we saw the natives in arms. That night fires blazed 
 throughout the whole country, and since they had 
 never seen so large a ship, messengers were sent in 
 all directions, who reported that a canoe like an 
 island had come with as many men as there were 
 trees in the woods." 
 
 They sailed up the river to Heron Islands, and 
 
 on Blackstone (which they called St. Clement's) 
 
 they landed at a little past the middle of March. 
 
 The air was balmy and sweet with opening spring 
 
 30 
 
306 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 flowers, and birds were filling tlie groves with their 
 melodies. The shy natives one by one came to 
 them, and the kindness of the English disarmed 
 all their hostility. There, on the feast of the An- 
 nunciation (March 25th), the priests, in full can- 
 onical robes, performed religious services and ad- 
 ministered the Lord's Supper for the first time in 
 all that savage region. The whole company fol- 
 lowed Calvert and the priests in procession, bearing 
 a huge cross which they had fashioned from a tree, 
 and planted the symbol of Christianity and civili- 
 zation at a chosen spot. The Eoman Catholic 
 members on bended knees recited the "Litanies of 
 the Sacred Cross," according to the Italian ritual. 
 
 In the forest shadows, wondering spectators of 
 the strange scene, stood groups of savage men, 
 women and children, clad in scanty and picturesque 
 garments, with their emperor and his queen. He 
 was at the head of a tribe called the Piscataways, 
 and ruled over several smaller chiefs. Calvert 
 paid a visit to this dusky emperor to make a treaty 
 of friendship and secure his influence over sur- 
 rounding tribes in favor of the colonists. In The 
 Dove and another pinnace which they had brought 
 from Jamestown, the governor of the colony, with 
 Father Altham and a part of the immigrants, sailed 
 up the river, leaving The Ark at anchor. Indians 
 came from the woods to peep at them and fled in 
 
THE "WHOLE COMPANY FOLLOWED CALVERT AND THE PRIESTS IN PKOCESSION. 
 
MARYLAND. 307 
 
 alarm. At a village near Mount Vernon, ruled 
 over by a youthful chief, they landed. The fears 
 of the Indians were soon overcome, and Father 
 Altham, through an interpreter they had brought 
 from Jamestown for the purpose, explained that 
 the object of their coming was to teach the Indians 
 to- lead, better lives, and to live with them as 
 brothers. The young sachem's uncle, who ruled 
 as regent, welcomed them saying: 
 
 "We will use one table. My people shall hunt 
 for my pale-face brothers, and all things shall be 
 in common between us." 
 
 Pleased with this peaceful conquest, the colonists 
 went on to Piscataway, where five hundred war- 
 riors were drawn up to dispute their landing; but 
 the Indians were pacified, and readily gave them 
 permission to settle anywhere within the empire 
 near or distant. Calvert thought it better to form 
 their settlement near the mouth of the Potomac. 
 
 Calvert next explored the Wicomico Eiver, which 
 emptied into another (which they called the St. 
 George) twelve miles upward, and anchored at an 
 Indian village. Here the sachem gave the gov- 
 ernor his mat to sleep on. Pleased with the situa- 
 tion, the soil and forest growth, he determined to 
 plant his first settlement there and make Wicomico 
 the capital. Although Calvert had a delegated 
 power to take possession of the country by force. 
 
308 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 he preferred to procure it by treaty and purchase, 
 so for some English cloth, axes, hoes, rakes, 
 knives and trinkets of little value for the women, 
 he purchased thirty miles, of territory including the 
 village and named the domain Augusta Carolinia. 
 
 On the 27th of March, 1634, Calvert took for- 
 mal possession of the territory. The vessels came 
 from St. Clement's with the remainder of the im- 
 migrants, and the cannon fired a salute at the ter- 
 mination of their weary wanderings. They erected 
 a fort, laid out the town of St. Mary's and began 
 to build. The Indians assisted them as well as 
 they could. 
 
 Governor Harvey of Virginia shortly afterward 
 paid them a visit and was received aboard The 
 Arh. The king of Patuxent was invited to their 
 interview and, while banqueting with the officers, 
 said: 
 
 " I love the English so well, that, if they went 
 about to kill me, and I had so much breath as to 
 speak, I would command the people not to avenge 
 my death; for I know they would do no such 
 thing, except it were through mine own fault." 
 
 These settlers were exempt from the distresses 
 which had befallen the earlier immigrants in other 
 colonies. The surrounding native inhabitants 
 were friendly; they had a genial climate; general 
 good health prevailed; they had abundance of 
 
MARYLAND. 300 
 
 food, and the soil yielded bountifully witli moder- 
 ate tillage. They were vested with peculiar privi- 
 leges; were not hampered by ecclesiastical restric- 
 tions, and a year after they had established the 
 capital at St. Mary's, a legislative assembly, com- 
 posed of the whole people, a purely democratic 
 legislature, convened there. As their numbers 
 increased by immigration, this method of legisla- 
 tion was found inconvenient, and, in 1639, a rep- 
 resentative government was established, the people 
 being allowed to send as many representatives as 
 they saw fit. Thus was commenced the common- 
 wealth of Maryland. 
 
 Mr. William Roby, the man "without a past," 
 located at St. Mary's. He became an Indian 
 trader, and soon accumulated a fortune in furs. 
 He penetrated the forests to the most distant towns 
 and entered the Dutch settlements, still preserving 
 his taciturn manner, and the habit of searching; 
 as if he expected to find some person whom he had 
 not seen for years. 
 
 At New Amsterdam he formed the acquaintance 
 of Hans Van Brunt. He grew to like the honest, 
 kind-hearted Dutchman. In conversation with 
 him one day, he told him of the Philip Stevens at 
 Jamestown. Hans, in turn, told, of Mathew Ste- 
 vens at Plymouth, and thus a conversation sprang 
 up between them, at the conclusion of which they 
 
310 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 decided that tlie two must be the long-separated 
 brothers. After the conversation was over, Mr. 
 Eoby went to the public house, and Hans then re- 
 membered that there was a man in the village 
 named Billington, who had just come from Ply- 
 mouth. He also remembered, that he had met Bil- 
 lington once itt Plymouth, and that he had asked 
 some strange questions concerning Mr. Eoby. He 
 was not much acquainted with Billington, and was 
 not favorably impressed with the man; but as he 
 was so recently from Plymouth and no doubt knew 
 all about Mathew Stevens, he determined to have 
 him meet Mr. Eoby. He found him and told him 
 the strange story of Philip Stevens in Virginia. 
 
 "He must be Mathew's brother," said Billing- 
 ton. " There can be no doubt of it. I would like 
 to see him." 
 
 Hans volunteered to show him to the stranger, 
 whose name he had not as yet spoken. They 
 walked down the street of the little Dutch hamlet, 
 until they came in sight of the stranger, sitting in 
 a large arm-chair. He was lost in thought, with 
 his eyes on the ground and did not look up. 
 Billington caught a glimpse of his face and ex- 
 claiming, "It is Eoby!" beat a retreat and was 
 never again seen in New Amsterdam. Billington 
 hastened back to New Plymouth, which colony he 
 reached as narrated in the preceding chapter. 
 
CHAPTEE XYIII. 
 
 SEEKING THE LOST. 
 
 All thoughts, all passions, all delights, 
 Whatever stirs this mortal frame. 
 
 All are but ministers of love, 
 And feed his sacred flame. 
 
 —Coleridge. 
 
 ISText morning, after his strange interview with 
 Billington, Mathew Stevens was awakened from a 
 peaceful slumber, by some one rapping at the door 
 of his room. 
 
 "Who is there?" he asked, starting up in bed. 
 
 "It is I," Mrs. Brewster answered. "Alice 
 White wants to see you immediately." 
 
 Had he been informed that the Angel Gabriel 
 was waiting, Mathew would not have been more 
 dumfounded. With a vague feeling that some- 
 thing had gone amiss, he hurriedly dressed and 
 hastened to the sitting-room, where he found the 
 girl, her face pale as death and her eyes red with 
 weeping. 
 
 "Alice, what has happened?" he asked. 
 
 "She is gone!" was the answer. 
 311 
 
313 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 "Gone! who has gone?" 
 
 "Mother." 
 
 "Dead!" he cried, filled with horror. 
 
 "No, no; she has left home," and for further 
 explanations she handed him a slip of paper, 
 adding : 
 
 "I found that pinned to my pillow." 
 
 He took the paper and read: 
 
 AUCE, MY DEAR DAUGHTER; 
 
 You insist on knowing the secret, and I have answered 
 that you shall. I am gone on a journey into the wilder- 
 ness, and when I return, I shall, I hope, be able to make 
 the revelation less heavy than it would otherwise have 
 been. Abide in the faith of God, and should your mother 
 perish, or never return, believe that she loved you, and 
 that she was never knowingly guilty of sin. May God 
 bless you and always have you in His keeping ; this is my 
 prayer. 
 
 Your Mother. 
 
 Mathew stared at the strange missive as if it had 
 been dropped from the heavens. He was bewil- 
 dered, his head swam, and he clutched the table 
 for support. 
 
 "We did it!" was the thought which crashed 
 like a bomb through his brain. " We did it! Our 
 persistence in knowing the mystery has driven her 
 mad." But with all the strength of his wonderful 
 will, he controlled his emotions and, in a voice of 
 forced calmness asked: 
 
SEEKING THE LOST. 318 
 
 "When did this happen?" 
 
 "Last night." 
 
 "At what hour?" 
 
 "I know not. While I was buried in slumber, 
 she wrote this and stole away from the house." 
 
 "It was early in the night." Mathew began to 
 think and plan. He sat down and for a moment 
 held his head between his hands. Mrs. Brewster, 
 realizing that it was a matter that must be settled 
 by Mathew and Alice, considerately left the room. 
 After a short silence he asked : 
 
 "Alice, did your mother see Billington yester- 
 day?" 
 
 "She did." 
 
 "Do you know what words passed between 
 them?" 
 
 She recounted what she had heard, and how she 
 had urged her mother to explain the meaning of 
 those mysterious sentences, "I have seen him!" 
 and "He lives!" The mother had utterly refused 
 to make any explanation whatever, and Alice ex- 
 pressed it as her belief that it was her persistence 
 that drove her from the bouse to the wilderness. 
 
 Then Mathew began to reason that Billington's 
 visit had something to do with the nocturnal jour- 
 ney of Sarah White. If he had been the cause of 
 her going away, he knew whither she had gone, 
 and if he knew, he should tell. He asked Alice 
 
314 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 to remain at tlie house, wMle lie went to make 
 some inquiries. 
 
 "Will you help me to find her?" she asked. 
 
 "Yes," he answered. 
 
 "Though you go all over the world?" 
 
 "I will find your mother, Alice, or devote the 
 remainder of my life to the search. " 
 
 " I greatly fear that we are indirectly the cause 
 of her flight. I told her she must confide the se- 
 cret to me, and then she fell on her knees and 
 begged me, with tears streaming from her eyes, to 
 spare her; but I was determined. You said we 
 must know the secret, and — and — I fear it was 
 our determination that drove her mad. "Why else 
 should she make a journey to the wilderness?" 
 
 "Don't upbraid yourself, Alice; your mother 
 shall be found," he firmly declared. "Wait!" 
 
 Then Mathew left the house. At the door he 
 paused to whisper to Mrs. Brewster: 
 
 " She is weak, faint, and in great distress. In- 
 sist that she breakfast while I am gone." 
 
 With that parting injunction, he was gone. 
 Mathew found Billington in his miserable cabin. 
 He had passed a lonely night in his home, had 
 just risen, and was swinging some pots over the 
 fire to cook his breakfast. 
 
 "Ho! Mathew. Why this early visit?" he 
 asked. 
 
SEEKING THE LOST. 815 
 
 "Did you see Sarah White during the night?" 
 he asked. 
 
 "In truth I did." 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 "She rapped at my door." 
 
 "At what hour?" 
 
 "The middle of the night." 
 
 "Where hath she gone?" 
 
 "To New Amsterdam." 
 
 "But no vessel sailed!" 
 
 " One can make the journey by land if they pro- 
 cure natives to ferry them across the streams." 
 
 "She went by land?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 Mathew asked no more, but hastened back to 
 Alice. He told her what he had learned from Bil- 
 lington, and said: 
 
 " I shall set out at once to search for her, and I 
 will never cease in my endeavors until I have 
 found her." 
 
 "I will go with you," she declared. 
 
 "No, no; the journey will be too much for you." 
 
 "I could n(5t abide here, with the realization 
 that my poor mother is in the wilderness, sur- 
 rounded by the perils of an unknown forest. I 
 must go." 
 
 No amount of persuasion could shake her de- 
 termination, and at last he consented. John 
 
816 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 Alden, Samuel Warren, and Stephen Hopkins, 
 three brave Pilgrims who had served under Mathew 
 during the Pequod war, volunteered to accompany 
 him and share his dangers and toils. Added to 
 these were two Indian guides, who were fast friends 
 of the young Puritan, and who agreed to lead 
 them safely through the wilderness. 
 
 "Shall we go by water?" Alden asked. 
 
 "No, no," Alice pleaded. "Mother went by 
 land, let us follow her footsteps." 
 
 " By taking a vessel we can reach New Amster- 
 dam long before she does." 
 
 "Mother will never reach New Amsterdam," 
 she answered. "She is too weak; she will faint 
 by the way." 
 
 Her reasoning was good, for all knew that the 
 vast distance she would have to traverse through 
 the wilderness would be beyond her endurance. 
 The party started, and Alice trudged along by the 
 side of Mathew in silence. Her tears were dried 
 and all her energies were bent to finding the lost 
 one. They presented a strange sight, those five 
 wanderers, as they trudged through the woods. 
 Each man carried a bundle on his back, and some 
 provisions in a bag. In addition they had their 
 muskets and swords. Each had one and some two 
 pistols in his belt. Their arms, armor and ac- 
 coutrements so encumbered them that they could 
 
SEEKING THE LOST. 317 
 
 not make any great speed. They did not travel 
 far in a day. Alice, in her anxiety, would have 
 over-exerted herself, had she not been restrained 
 by those with cooler heads and better judgment. 
 
 On through the wild wood the little band 
 pressed; over rocky hills, down descending slopes, 
 where purling streams went gently and merrily on 
 their way to their eternity — the ocean; then again 
 climbing mountain sides, listening to the wild roar 
 of the cataract as it thundered downward amid 
 foam and spray, forming delightful rainbows in the 
 air; through secluded dells, delightful plains to 
 wild rocky summits, they pressed on. At times 
 the tall trees threw their giant branches over them, 
 forming a covering from the friendly sky. Then 
 they crossed a plain where they were compelled to 
 part the tall grass with their hands to force a pas- 
 sage through it. 
 
 When night came, they built their camp-fire be- 
 neath a hoary-headed oak, and Mathew, with the 
 blankets, made a bed and canopy-like tent for 
 Alice. As the Pilgrims and their guides sat about 
 their tent in silence, they heard the stealthy tread 
 of advancing feet. Immediately every man seized 
 his gun and prepared for an assault; but it proved 
 to be two wandering Indians who, attracted by 
 their fire, came to see who was in camp. 
 
 At Mathew's request, their guides interrogated 
 
318 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 them about the lost woman. They answered that 
 they had seen a white woman going southward. 
 She spoke English only, and they could not un- 
 derstand her; but they described her as being 
 wild-eyed and haggard. They gave her some 
 food, and endeavored to detain her at their village 
 a few miles away; but she would not stay. 
 
 Early next morning the wanderers were again 
 on their journey. They came to a stream of con- 
 siderable width, and wandering along its rocky 
 shore, found an Indian hamlet of five houses, in- 
 habited by dusky fishermen. They had ferried a 
 white woman across the stream the day before. 
 There could be no doubt that this woman was Mrs. 
 Sarah White, whom the Indians described as sick 
 and faint, although she refused the hospitality they 
 offered her. She seemed in such a hurry to go on 
 that the savages thought she was pursued by an 
 enemy. 
 
 "Poor mother!" sighed Alice. "I have caused 
 her this misery!" 
 
 Mathew, who was at her side, responded : 
 
 " Alice, why need we have cared for the secret 
 which your mother guarded so jealously?" 
 
 "It was blighting my life." 
 
 "Yet I would have wedded you regardless of 
 the skeleton in the closet." 
 
 "Could I be a nameless bride?" she asked. 
 
SEEKINO THE LOST. 319 
 
 " Is not my life clouded with mystery as well as 
 yours? Do I know beyond rumor and conjecture 
 who I am?" 
 
 "Mathew, it was for you." 
 
 "You need not have caused yourself and your 
 mother all this misery for me," he answered. 
 
 "Yet you first set me a- thinking. You first 
 asked me who my father was!" 
 
 "Alas, I did; but it was that devil in human 
 form, Billington, who prompted me to ask you, 
 and I would that I had perished before I followed 
 the promptings of suspicions, which he roused in 
 my heart. He rejoices only in the misery of 
 others, and his cunning brain is always busy plan- 
 ning for the woe of his fellow men!" 
 
 With an effort to shake off the feeling of op- 
 pression which was weighing on his breast, Mathew 
 added, "Alice, we can yet be happy. Consent 
 to be my wife, regardless of secrets or mystery, 
 and we will never ask your mother to reveal it." 
 
 She was silent. 
 
 They were passing through a low, narrow val- 
 ley with a high cliff on either side. The trees 
 grew dense in the valley, and a path led through 
 them. Their companions were a short distance 
 ahead of them, and could not hear the low, earnest 
 pleading of the lover. He tried to catch her eye 
 as they walked along the path; but she kept her 
 
320 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 face averted, and the hand which he held trembled 
 in his own. Encouraged, he continued: 
 
 "Alice, why prolong this misery? Why longer 
 delay? What cai'e we for the past? We live for 
 the future. Here in this old wood, with God for 
 our witness, promise me you will reward my wait- 
 ing by becoming my wife, as soon as we shall re- 
 turn to Plymouth with your mother. Consent, 
 Alice; say yes, and let this sad march terminate 
 in a delightful walk through God's garden." 
 
 A moment of trembling silence, and then, 
 faintly: 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Alice, you have made this dark day glorious. 
 I am happy." 
 
 " How dare we talk of happiness with mother in 
 the wilderness, exposed to ten thousand perils?" 
 
 "We will find her," Mathew answered cheer- 
 fully. 
 
 "Can we?" 
 
 "We can and will." 
 
 "You encourage me. Could I believe that we 
 should really find her, I would feel that this was 
 in reality a pleasure journey." 
 
 With assuring words and a hopeful manner, he 
 sought to encourage her drooping spirits. They 
 hastened on and overtook their companions, who 
 had halted to consult with an Indian hunter. 
 
SEEKING THE LOST. 321 
 
 He had met tlie fugitive over the range of rocky 
 hills, and had builded her a fire, broiled some 
 venison for her, and given her his robe of furs to 
 lie on. He could speak no English, and she no 
 Indian ; but from the way she came and the course 
 she went, it was evident that she was going to 
 Providence, Rhode Island. 
 
 "I understand her plans now," Mathew re- 
 marked, on learning the account of the Indian. 
 " She is going to Providence to secure the aid of 
 her friend Roger Williams to take her to New 
 Amsterdam." 
 
 From the trail which the Indian guides had fol- 
 lowed with unerring accuracy, it was quite appa- 
 rent to all that Providence was the destination de- 
 signed by the fugitive, and thither the seekers 
 bent their steps. 
 
 It was evening when the little band of tired 
 pursuers crossed the river and entered the town. 
 They learned that the fugitive had arrived but 
 three or four hours before them, and was resting 
 at the house of Mr. Roger Williams. 
 
 Only Alice and Mathew were admitted to her 
 presence. Glaring at them with her great, wild 
 eyes, she asked: 
 
 "Why did you come? Why did you not let 
 me complete my journey, and the blow would have 
 fallen less heavily." 
 31 
 
823 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 "Mother! mother!" interrupted Alice, with 
 choking sobs, " that blow which you have so much 
 dreaded has all along been a creature of your 
 fancy. Had you shared the burden with me which 
 was crushing out your life, it would have been 
 lighter for both of us." 
 
 " I did not want your scorn; I could not endure 
 your contempt, Alice, it would have killed me." 
 
 " Mother, I can smile at the fears which almost 
 craze your poor brain. Have no fear of my scorn. 
 T do not want your secret. I will never ask you 
 again. Mathew has promised to make me his 
 wife, and we will bury the hideous past forever." 
 
 Sarah White turned her eyes upon her daughter's 
 lover with an inquiring gaze, and Mathew Stevens, 
 interpreting the look, answered with a smile: 
 
 " You may either disclose or keep forever veiled 
 that secret, just as you choose. I have asked the 
 hand of Alice in marriage, she has consented with- 
 out any reservation whatever, and on our return 
 we will marry, despite the past." 
 
 A glad light beamed in the woman's eyes, and 
 she feebly gasped: 
 
 "Sit down." 
 
 One of the articles of furniture in that room 
 was a long, hard bench, which, in the early days 
 of the English settlers, formed an indispensable 
 article for housekeeping. Mathew drew it up by 
 
SEEKING THE LOST. 323 
 
 the side of the feeble woman, and both he and 
 Alice seated themselves thereon. Sarah White, 
 in a slow, somewhat feeble, but at the same time 
 firm voice, began: 
 
 "On the night I left home, I promised Alice 
 that when next I saw her I would unfold this 
 mystery, and I shall make good my promise. I 
 had hoped before I did so, however, to meet the 
 author of our wrongs face to face and make him 
 take his share of the blame; but I cannot. I am 
 too weak — too weak. Listen, and I will tell you 
 the story of my life." 
 
 Then she had to wait until she recovered her- 
 self, for her journey had fatigued her, and she was 
 very weak. Mrs. Williams brought her some old 
 English beer, which she sipped, grew stronger, and, 
 after a few moments spent in gathering up her 
 resolution and the fragments of her story, she 
 began : 
 
 "In the long ago, when I was a blushing girl in 
 old England, my father was a small tradesman in 
 our village. I was his only daughter, though he 
 had two sons, William and John. John died 
 early, and William, as you know, was a passenger 
 on The Mayflower, and among the first to perish' in 
 New England. I had many lovers, and among 
 them was Francis Billington, the son of a low-bred 
 fellow, who had been convicted at the assizes for 
 
334 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 poaching. Though I never in all my life favored 
 him in any way, Billington was persistent and 
 vindictive in his suit. I declined his hand ; but 
 it did not end his obnoxious attentions. 
 
 " When I was seventeen years of age, there came 
 to our village a company of soldiers. Among them 
 was a gallant young officer, whose fair young face 
 was like the morning, and when he smiled on me, 
 I was almost wild with delight. From the first 
 moment I saw him, I loved him, and I believe he 
 returned my affection. How we met first and 
 became acquainted, I will not take up the time 
 now to tell you, but we did, unbeknown to my 
 parents, become acquainted and met frequently. 
 The tale of love which he poured so earnestly into 
 my ear was enough to turn the head of any poor 
 girl. Of course I believed him. I was young 
 and inexperienced, and so delightful was it to be 
 loved that I would not take my parents into my 
 confidence and ask their advice, for fear they 
 would disapprove of our meetings and thus deprive 
 me of the pleasure of meeting the man I adored; 
 but my father by some means (perhaps it was Bil- 
 lington who told him) learned of our meetings and 
 forbade me seeing the soldier. He believed all 
 soldiers a class of wandering vagabonds, and this 
 one especially was distasteful on account of his 
 being a Catholic. My father, being a Puritan, 
 
SEEKING THE LOST. 335 
 
 hated the CatholicB, and under no circumstances 
 would have consented to allow his daughter to 
 marry a papist. I heeded not his warning, but 
 obeyed the foolish impulses of my own inexperi- 
 enced heart. 
 
 "We met more frequently than before, and, 
 knowing my father's opposition to him, he began 
 to urge me to marry him secretly. I resisted at 
 first, but after long importuning yielded, and we 
 went to a lonely chapel one night, just he and I, 
 and were met by a man in priestly robes. The 
 ceremony was performed according to the Catholic 
 Church, and I believed myself his wife. We 
 thought that we three were alone; but as we left 
 the chapel I espied Francis Billington, who had 
 been a witness to the whole ceremony. My hus- 
 band, angry at the appearance of the interloper, 
 drew his sword and sought to slay him; but Bil- 
 lington made his escape, swearing that he would be 
 avenged. At the time I supposed that he would 
 go immediately and tell my father; but he did not. 
 His vengeance was of a deeper and keener sort. 
 Weeks and months went by, and we passed our 
 honeymoon in secret. 
 
 "One terrible day news came that the soldiers 
 had been suddenly ordered away to fight the In- 
 vincible Armada which Spain was sending to de- 
 stroy England, He went away without giving, me 
 
326 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 a word of warning, or even sending me a message. 
 For a long time after that I was almost at deatB's 
 door. Alice was born, and Billington told my 
 father how I had been betrayed, for the man who 
 had performed the ceremony was not a priest, but 
 one o^ .he soldier's comrades who assumed the role 
 of priest to deceive me. At first I did not, I 
 could not believe it; but as months went by and I 
 received no letter or message from the man I be- 
 lieved my husband, I was forced to the shameful 
 conclusion that I had been deceived. Over- 
 whelmed with grief, I left my home in the north 
 of England and went to live with my brother 
 at Plymouth. Shortly after, my parents died. 
 At Plymouth, Billington joined us, though why, 
 I know not, unless to torture me by his presence. 
 From Plymouth we removed to the Downs. I 
 need not tell you how all these years Billington 
 followed and haunted me. He married, and had 
 a son; but he never ceased to pursue me with 
 the hate of a devil. When his wife died, he 
 proposed marriage; but I spurned the wretch. 
 We went from the Downs to Lincoln, thence to 
 London, and, as you. know, came to America. 
 There you have it all now. I have long kept the 
 secret for the sake of Alice, and partially for the 
 sake of her father, whom I still love. I cannot 
 bear to hear him upbraided by those who are my 
 
SEEKING THE LOST. 32T 
 
 friends. I was young, foolish, vain — but say no 
 harm of him." 
 
 "Perhaps he was slain ?" suggested Mathew. 
 
 "I thought so for a long time; but he was not. 
 He still lives." 
 
 "How know you he lives?" 
 
 "Billington saw him." 
 
 "At New Amsterdam?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "And thither you were going?" 
 
 "I was; but I am too feeble to make tne jour- 
 ney. Take me home, and let me die." 
 
 Alice turned her tear-dimmed eyes on Mathew, 
 and, in a voice trembling with emotion, said: 
 
 " You know it all now; do you still insist?" 
 
 "I do, Alice. Will you be my wife?" 
 
 " I will !" With a glad cry he clasped her in his 
 arms and imprinted on her lips a kiss. 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 DAY DAWNS. 
 
 See, heaven its sparkling portals wide display, 
 And break upon thee in the flood of day. 
 No more the rising sun shall gild the morn, 
 Nor evening Cynthia fill her silver horn ; 
 But lost, dissolved in thy superior rays. 
 One tide of glory, one unclouded blaze. 
 
 — Pope. 
 
 Just as the beams of the rising san danced over 
 the deep, bringing into bold relief gray old Ply- 
 mouth Rock, and as the soft refulgent light perme- 
 ated the deeper shades of the gloomy old forest 
 which formed the background of the picture, a 
 small bark from Providence entered the harbor. 
 It was not an unusual thing for vessels from other 
 colonies to visit New Plymouth for purposes of 
 trade or friendly greetings; yet these visits were 
 not so common that they did not create a little flut- 
 ter of excitement every time a white sail was seen 
 gleaming on the ocean. 
 
 A group of people gathered quickly on the shore 
 and began to conjecture as to the new-comers and 
 338 
 
DAY DAWNS. 339 
 
 tte object of their visit. A wreath of white smoke 
 suddenly rose from the forecastle of the pinnace, 
 and the report of a gun rang out over the bay. 
 The cannon in the fort answered the salute, and 
 as the small craft drew nearer the features of Ma- 
 thew Stevens and John Alden could be made out. 
 
 Wild shouts of joy rose on the air, and every- 
 body was asking: 
 
 "Have they found the missing woman?" 
 
 The craft came slowly in, and, as Mathew leaped 
 ashore. Governor Bradford was first to seize his 
 hand and ask: 
 
 "Have you found her?" 
 
 "We have. She is in the pinnace." 
 
 Sarah White, so weak and feeble that she 
 could scarcely stand, tottered ashore, leaning on 
 the arm of her daughter. The solemn Pilgrims 
 received her with a welcome that was rather bois- 
 terous for people of their sedate habits. 
 
 "Where will you go?" Governor Bradford 
 asked the woman. 
 
 "To my home," she answered. 
 
 Mathew conducted her to her home on the hill. 
 
 "Come to me as soon as you can," said the gov- 
 ernor to Captain Stevens, as he was going away 
 with Alice and her mother. Mathew promised to 
 do so, wondering all the while what business the 
 governor could have with him. When the little 
 
830 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 cabin on the hill was reached, Alice's mother was 
 laid on her bed. Her eyes were sunken and her 
 pale cheeks had assumed a deathly hue. 
 
 "Will you be afraid to stay here?" he asked. 
 
 " Whom should I fear?" 
 
 "Billington." 
 
 " He is harmless now. The secret which was his 
 weapon is no longer his." 
 
 • Mathew left, promising to return soon, and 
 hastened to the house of the governor. Governor 
 Bradford was waiting for him at the gate. 
 
 "You wish to see me?" Mathew asked. 
 
 " Yes, some men from New Amsterdam are here, 
 and want to have a talk with you," returned the 
 governor. 
 
 "It is Hans Van Brunt," cried Mathew. 
 
 "He is one." 
 
 "And the other?" 
 
 "Is an Englishman, accompanied by a priest." 
 
 "A Eoman Catholic priest?" 
 
 "Yes, Father Altham." 
 
 "Why should a priest venture here?" 
 
 "Their, business seems to be with you. The 
 priest will do us no harm, seeing that he has no 
 designs to proselyte." 
 
 Mathew Stevens was completely dumfounded 
 with amazement. Turning to the governor he 
 asked : 
 
DAV DAWNS. 381 
 
 " Are not these people Spaniards instead of Eng- 
 lishmen?" 
 
 "No; all save the Hollander are Englishmen." 
 
 "Is one named Stevens?" 
 
 "ISTo, his name is Roby." 
 
 While they were still discussing the strangers, 
 Hans Van Brunt came from the house, and, seeing 
 his friend, hurried toward him in his frank, honest 
 way, declaring: 
 
 "A sight of you does one good. We do grow 
 older, friend Mathew; but time hath dealt more 
 gently with me than you. I see that your hair is 
 flecked with gray, and there are wrinkles about 
 your eyes; but they seem more of care than age." 
 
 The rubicund face of the Dutchman showed no 
 evidences of crow's feet, and one might search a 
 long time before a white hair could be discovered 
 among his locks. Mathew greeted his friend cor- 
 dially, and as they seated themselves on the large 
 bench at the side of the door, asked: 
 
 "Hans, whom did you bring with you?" 
 
 "Two Englishmen," Hans answered. "Mr. 
 William Eoby, and a priest called Father Altham." 
 
 "How dare a Catholic priest come here? The 
 Pilgrims will not permit him to remain. They 
 will banish him from the colony." 
 
 "He will not remain," Hans answered carelessly. 
 " Once his business is transacted, he will go away." 
 
332 THE PILGBIM8. 
 
 "Is his business with me?" 
 
 "No; I know not with whom his business is; 
 but I think it is not with you." 
 
 Mathew Stevens had been led to believe by 
 Governor Bradford that the business of these men 
 was with him ; but Hans was of the opinion that, 
 while their business was not exactly with him, it 
 was through him that it was to be transacted. He 
 sat staring at his Dutch friend in hopeless bewil- 
 derment. Hans resumed: 
 
 " I saw this man Eoby when he first came to 
 New Amsterdam. He was a tall, thin man and 
 looked as if he had worn himself to a shadow. I 
 told Governor Van Twiller that he was no ordinary 
 man, and Van Twiller he smoked his pipe and 
 said nothing, just as he always does when he 
 wants to be wise. Everybody in New Netherland 
 is making sport of the governor now. He is 
 wisest when he says nothing'; but he came; he 
 bought shiploads of furs and made a large fortune 
 from the sale of them." 
 
 Mathew at this point of the Dutchman's narrative 
 was lost, and asked: 
 
 "Who came and got rich in furs? Van Twil- 
 ler?" 
 
 "No; the Englishman Roby." 
 
 After all it seemed as if this mysterious visit 
 were going to take a financial turn. Mathew did 
 
DAY DAWNS. 333 
 
 not interpose any more questions, although Hans, 
 in his careless manner, mixed his pronouns and 
 antecedents in a way liable to confuse the listener. 
 
 "He was a queer man," Hans resumed, "just 
 such a man as one would stop on the street to gaze 
 at. He was a Catholic, too, for he wore a cross 
 about his neck ; but what cared I for his being a 
 Catholic? One religion is as good as another if one 
 be honest and earnest. Do we not all worship the 
 same God? Then why object to others worship- 
 ping him as they choose? He came, and though he 
 said nothing about himself, he asked me all about 
 myself, and everybody else I had ever known. He 
 asked about the Pilgrims and about you. He said 
 you had a brother and a father in Virginia." 
 
 At this point Mathew was quite sure he saw 
 through it all. These men must be messengers 
 from his brother and father in Virginia, who in 
 some way had learned that he was in Plymouth. 
 
 " My father and brother sent him and the priest?" 
 he cried. 
 
 "No," answered the Dutchman, lighting his 
 pipe, and smoking with provoking slowness. 
 "The men don't come to see you. Their busi- 
 ness is with another; but it is thought best that 
 the matter be reached through you." 
 
 "Well, proceed," said Mathew, growing impa- 
 tient. 
 
334 THE PILGBIMS. 
 
 "One day he was at New Amsterdam." 
 
 "Who? the priest?" 
 
 "No, the man Eoby." 
 
 "Well, what did he do when he was at New 
 Amsterdam?" 
 
 "The man calling himself Billington was in 
 New Amsterdam also," Hans went on in his ram- 
 bling way, occasionally pausing in his disjointed 
 narrative to smoke. "I did not know why he 
 came, nor did any other; but he did not look 
 honest. I fell in conversation with him and he 
 told me he was from New Plymouth, and I then 
 asked him about my old friend, for I remem- 
 bered having seen him once when I was here. He 
 said he knew you; then I told him of Eoby, who 
 had told me of your brother and father in Vir- 
 ginia. He then wanted to see the stranger, and I 
 took him to the public house where Eoby was, and 
 no sooner did he get a sight of him, than he turned 
 away and ran as if he had seen a spook, and I never 
 saw him more in New Amsterdam. " 
 
 Hans paused and smoked his pipe a long time, 
 while Mathew Stevens, with his mind more mud- 
 dled than ever, asked himself what the fellow was 
 driving at. After Hans had drawn two dozen 
 deep draughts from his pipe, without seeming to 
 show any inclination to proceed, Mathew re- 
 marked: 
 
DAY DAWNS. 335 
 
 "Hans, the business of these men certainly mnst 
 concern my father and brother." 
 
 "No," Hans answered, and smoked his pipe in 
 silence. 
 
 "What is their business?" Mathew asked, be- 
 coming impatient. 
 
 Hans was in no hurry to answer and, with that 
 coolness characteristic of the careful Hollander, 
 went on slowly: 
 
 "From the way he ran off, I thought Billington 
 was afraid of him." 
 
 "Was he?" 
 
 "He was. I asked Mr. Eoby about him." 
 
 "About Billington?" 
 
 "Yes, and " 
 
 "Did he know him?" asked Mathew, beginning 
 to see a new interest in the story of the Dutch- 
 man. 
 
 " He turned whiter than I ever saw a sail on the 
 ocean, at mention of his name, and trembled from 
 head to foot. I never saw a man in such a rage," 
 continued Hans, with his provoking slowness. 
 "He was so angry that I believe he could have 
 killed somebody. I knew tl^en that he hated Bil- 
 lington, so I began to question him ; but he told 
 me nothing," and Hans again paused in his narra- 
 tive to puff at his pipe in silence. Mathew, whose 
 patience was almost worn threadbare, urged him 
 
836 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 to go on, when Hans, casting his eyes toward the 
 door, said: 
 
 "He comes now." 
 
 Mathew turned his eyes in the direction of the 
 door and saw a tall, spare gentleman, who with his 
 cloak and steeple-crowned hat looked like a Pilgrim. 
 His beard was close-cropped, but pointed at the 
 chin. His face was grave, a.nd his pale blue eyes 
 had a restless, eager look. When he spoke, there 
 was a nervous twitching about the corners of his 
 mouth, which seemed to indicate that he was suf- 
 fering mentally ._ He paused a moment at the door, 
 and then, seeing Hans and Mathew, came directly 
 toward them. The Dutchman, still clinging to his 
 beloved pipe, told Mr. Eoby that this man was 
 "Stevens whom he wished to see." 
 
 The mysterious stranger grasped the hand of 
 Mathew for a moment in silence; then both seated 
 themselves on the bench. Mathew, still bewil- 
 dered, was about to ask what the man's business 
 was, when the stranger, in his peculiar interro- 
 gating way, began; 
 
 " You are Mathew Stevens, the Spaniard from 
 England?" 
 
 "I am." 
 
 "You were at Leyden?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "How long have you known Sarah White?" 
 
DAY DAWNS. 837 
 
 asked the man, with an increasing nervQus twitch- 
 ing about the corners of his mouth. Mathew saw 
 that, although the man was outwardly calm, a ter- 
 rible conflict raged in his breast. He answered his 
 question at once, stating when, where, and how he 
 had first met Alice's mother. 
 
 "She has a daughter, I am told?" the stranger 
 said, clasping his hands. 
 
 "She has," answered Mathew. "A daughter 
 who is in very truth an angel. There never was a 
 purer being," and Mathew went on to describe 
 Alice, with all the fervent enthusiasm of a lover. 
 When he had finished, he observed that the 
 stranger vfas wringing his hands, his chin was quiv- 
 ering and the tears were rolling down his cheeks. 
 
 "My God!" he groaned. "My God forgive 
 me!" 
 
 Light began to dawn on his mind. Like a flash 
 he saw it all, and, seizing Eoby by the shoulder, 
 he cried: 
 
 "You — you are her father?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " You are he who deceived Sarah White into a 
 pretended marriage." 
 
 "No, no; as God and the Holy Father will bear 
 witness, I deceived her not." 
 
 "What mean you?" 
 
 "She is my wife, my lawful wife. I brought 
 23 
 
338 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 the priest, with me who performed the ceremony 
 that he might bear testimony to the fact that the 
 marriage was lawful. She is now my wife." 
 
 Had the Spaniard been struck a blow in the face 
 he could not have been more staggered. Starting 
 back, he glared at Eoby for a moment, while the 
 fires of fury kindled in his eyes. In the breast of 
 the hot-blooded young Spaniard were all the 
 fiercest passions ready to be ignited by the smallest 
 spark. And, in the lover's indignation, sparks 
 were not wanting. 
 
 " You dare to tell me this?" he cried, his voice 
 choked with passion. " You dare to tell me that 
 you wed the mother of Alice and deserted her? 
 If you had not the heart of a devil, you could not 
 boast of an act so cowardly." His voice was 
 pitched high; his words came rapidly, and he 
 poured forth the vials of his wrath upon the head 
 of Mr. Eoby, who was much too agitated to defend 
 himself and gazed at him in mute appeal. It was 
 not until Mathew had exhausted his vocabulary 
 and his breath, that he ceased. Taking advantage 
 of the temporary pause, Mr. Eoby sprang quickly 
 to his feet and said : 
 
 " You do me a great wrong; wait until you hear 
 all." 
 
 "I have heard quite enough to judge of you." 
 
 " If Sarah White told you anything of me, she 
 
DAY DAWNS. 
 
 331 
 
 "Ton— TOTT ARE HEB FATHER j" 
 
 will bear me out in my story that my regiment was 
 ordered away to fight the Invincible Armada, and 
 that I went thence to Flanders." 
 
340 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 "She has told me all; but why did you not, 
 return?" 
 
 "A soldier cannot always go whither he would; 
 besides I was sorely wounded and sick almost unto 
 death. When I recovered I was sent to Flanders, 
 and as soon as was possible I did return to England 
 to find my wife; but she was gone. I have 
 searched for her ever since, and never, until in 
 casual conversation with your friend Hans Van 
 Brunt, had I the least intimation where she was, 
 or that she even lived." 
 
 There were truth and honesty in his grave face; 
 but Mathew was not ready yet to wholly excuse 
 him. After a moment he said, as the scowl faded 
 from his face: "You could have written." 
 
 " I did. I wrote almost daily, and every mes- 
 sage was full of affection and hope ; but, alas ! my 
 letters never reached her." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 "They were intercepted." 
 
 "Intercepted?" cried Mathew. 
 
 "You have heard of Billington?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "He intercepted my letters." 
 
 "How do you know that he did?" 
 
 "From his written confession." 
 
 "His written confession? When did you ob- 
 tain it?" 
 
DAY DAWNS. 341 
 
 "Last eveniBg. When I came liere during your 
 absence in searcii of my wife, from wliom I had 
 been so long and shamefully separated, I found 
 Billington. He was very much frightened, for he 
 supposed that I would kill him ; but I did not injure 
 him, and only demanded that he should, in writ- 
 ing, confess all that he had done, so that when I 
 went to my wife I might have my case made out 
 so clear that not a shadow of guilt would be left. 
 By this confession it seems that, after I left with my 
 regiment, he set himself as a spy upon my wife. 
 He originated the report that the marriage was a 
 sham, when he was certain there was no way to 
 prove to the contrary. He watched for my letters 
 and, by subtle bribery, secured all of them, which 
 he has preserved and last night turned over to me. 
 Here is his written confession," and Mr. Eoby 
 held up a roll of parchment, which was headed, 
 " Confession of one Francis Billington." 
 
 Mathew took the document, read it through from 
 beginning to end and, carefully folding it, returned 
 it to him. 
 
 " Have you used every effort in your power to 
 find your wife and child?" he asked, in a much 
 calmer tone than he had before addressed Mr. Eoby. 
 
 " As God is my judge, I did. I travelled all 
 over England, but could not find them. She never 
 took my name, which made my search much more 
 
343 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 difficult. While I bent all my energies to finding 
 Sarah Roby, she was living in seclusion as Sarah 
 White. When I searched North England she was 
 in Plymouth, and while I was in Plymouth, she 
 lived in the Downs; when I turned my attention 
 to the Downs, she was in Lincolnshire, or immured 
 in the very heart of London, so that all along my 
 search has been in vain. Thus I wandered over 
 all the old and new world without having any idea 
 of where she was, or that she was even living, 
 until by accident your friend Hans told me of a 
 woman living here, and his description of her led 
 me to believe that she was my long-lost wife. 
 Even then I might not have suspected that Sarah 
 White was in reality Sarah Roby, had not the 
 strange conduct of Billington, of which he told me, 
 awakened my suspicions. Then with your friend 
 Hans I came here, to find her run mad and escaped 
 to the forest " 
 
 Grasping his hand, Mathew interrupted him 
 with: 
 
 " Forgive me, I realize now how greatly I have 
 wronged you." 
 
 "Say no more; you are forgiven." 
 
 For a moment neither spoke. Hans sat at the 
 other end of the bench unmoved by the dramatic 
 episode. He had been all the while smoking his 
 pipe with apparent unconcern. The tobacco had 
 
DAY DAWNS. 343 
 
 all burned out, and he desisted long enough to re- 
 fill it, and proceeded to smoke again. 
 
 "I want you to act as my embassador," said Mr. 
 Roby. 
 
 "She will be easily reconciled," Mathew an- 
 swered. " I don't think that at any time she really 
 believed from her heart that you had intentionally 
 deserted her, although you must admit that the ap- 
 pearances were very much against you." 
 
 "They were, in fact. I have no fears of her 
 forgiveness, however; but she is weak; she cannot 
 endure a great shock." 
 
 " I understand; you wish me to tell her that you 
 are here?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "It will be a joy to me to do so." 
 
 " Be careful not to break the news too stiddenly. 
 Take time — be cautious^ — do not tell her so sud- 
 denly as to shock her nerves." 
 
 Mathew, promised to use due caution, and they 
 entered the house to consult with the priest Father 
 Altham, who confirmed the statement made by 
 William Eoby. At the time of Roby's marriage, 
 Father Altham, with other persecuted priests, was 
 flying from England, and it was only by chance 
 that he was in the neighborhood in disguise when 
 he was called upon by the young officer to perform 
 the marriage. He left England the next day after 
 
344 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 the marriage and had not seen Mr. Eoby since, 
 until they met at Jamestown, Virginia. 
 
 When they had fully discussed the marriage, 
 and the best plan of breaking the glad truth to 
 Sarah Roby, the priest said: 
 
 "I know your father, Mr. Stevens. He is an 
 aged cripple living with his son at Jamestown. 
 Being a Spaniard and a Catholic, I received his 
 confession and administered the sacrament of the 
 Lord's Supper to him while I was in Jamestown. 
 Your brother, like yourself, is a Protestant. He is 
 happily wedded and hath three beautiful children, 
 the eldest of whom is a namesake of Captain John 
 Smith." 
 
 Mathew heard this intelligence as if it were a 
 dream. His mind was so wholly engrossed with 
 the story of William Eoby, that his kindred were 
 of only secondary importance. He was thinking 
 only of the sunlight that was to beam on the long 
 clouded hearts of Alice and her mother. 
 
 Mathew did nothing precipitately. He waited 
 until his nerves had become more steady and his 
 excited spirit had had time to become ca.lm. Then 
 he walked leisurely to the house. Alice met him 
 at the door. 
 
 " Wliere is your mother?" he asked. 
 
 "She is sleeping." 
 
 "Alice, can you bear good news?" 
 
* GOD BE PKAISED, DAT DAWNS AT LAST ! " 
 
DAY DAWNS. 345 
 
 "Yes," she answered, her eyes sparkling with 
 hope and curiosity. 
 
 "You may think yourself strong enough; but 
 you little dream what I have to tell you." 
 
 "I can bear it." 
 
 "Will you be quite calm and not grow excited?" 
 
 She assured him she would, and then he led her 
 to the wooden bench near the window and sat by 
 her side holding her hand in his as he began the 
 story. He was frequently interrupted by excla- 
 mations from Alice, who, laughing and weeping at 
 the same time, like a child, fell on his breast at the 
 conclusion and, in an ecstasy of joy, cried: 
 
 "My father! my father! where is he?" 
 
 A piercing shriek at this moment startled both, 
 and looking up they beheld Mrs. Eoby standing 
 before them. With hands clasped and eyes raised 
 heavenward she exclaimed: 
 
 "God be praised! Day dawns at last!" 
 
CHAPTEE XX. 
 
 CONCLITSION. 
 
 Like as the damask rose you see, 
 Or like the blossom on the tree, 
 Or like the dainty flower in May, 
 Or like the morning of the day. 
 Or like the sun or like the shade 
 Or like the gourd which Jonas had ; 
 E'en such is man whose thread is spun. 
 Drawn out, and cut, and so is done. 
 
 — Wastell. 
 
 A FEW days after the events narrated in the last 
 chapter Francis Billington was found hanging in 
 his own cabin. Overcome by remorse and shame, 
 he had committed the first suicide ever known in 
 New England. The discovery of his body swing- 
 ing from the rafter produced a momentary shudder 
 and gloom throughout the little colony. Although 
 he was a bad man, those people were horrified at 
 the thought of suicide. 
 
 Three weeks after that event Kew Plymouth 
 presented a lively scene. The romantic story of 
 William Eoby had gone all over Nqw England, 
 
 346 
 
CONCLUSION. 347 
 
 and he was now the most talked-about man in the 
 country. A wonderful change had come over his 
 wife, who up to the time of this advent had been 
 Imown as Sarah White. Her cheek grew fresher 
 and the wrinkles of age and care were bidden stand 
 off for a while. There was not a happier home in 
 all New England than the reunited family of Wil- 
 liam Eoby. Mathew, the faithful lover, who 
 through the darkest hours and trial of Alice and her 
 mother had remained true and steadfast, was now to 
 receive his reward. 
 
 It was the dawn of his wedding day. From the 
 wild wood went up the songs of feathered warblers, 
 for the bleak breath of autumn had not yet blown 
 upon the fields and woods. It was the golden har- 
 vest. The fields were heavy with ripening corn 
 and bursting pods of beans, while the pumpkins 
 lay like rich nuggets of gold on the hillside. The 
 leaves had assumed a yellow tint, though they clung 
 with youthful tenacity to their stems. 
 
 It was a fit season for such a wedding. Both 
 bride and groom were approaching the golden 
 period of life. 
 
 The church at Plymouth was decorated with 
 wreaths and such wild flowers as were native to 
 New England. Brewster, the officiating clergy- 
 man, was in the pulpit, and at his side, an invited 
 guest, was Father Altham, who, despite the preju- 
 
348 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 dices of the Puritans, was respected for tlie noble 
 part be had played in the recent events in the "col- 
 ony. The young maids and children brought gifts 
 of wild flowers and fruits, while the older people 
 came laden with more substantial presents, and 
 after the ceremony the married couple repaired to 
 their newly constructed home to begin a new life. 
 It was a gala day in New Plymouth, such as it had 
 never known before in the history of the colony. 
 The battery on th-e platform fired a salute in honor 
 of the grand occasion, and the day closed with 
 songs of thanksgiving aiid praise. 
 
 It was a calm evening, and the husband and 
 wife wandered down the street to the water and 
 seated themselves on old Plymouth Eock to talk 
 over their eventful lives and the goodness of God 
 in bringing them through great tribulations. 
 
 A large vessel, borne in swiftly by wind and 
 tide, entered the bay. The boom of a gun an- 
 nounced her arrival, and this was answered by a 
 shot from the hill. The vessel dropped its anchor 
 and, like some monster sea-fowl, folded its wings 
 and slept on the wave. 
 
 Vessels in the New Plymouth port were not un- 
 common, and Mathew Stevens gave this one but 
 very little thought. Next morning he was awak- 
 ened by Captain Miles Standish and John Alden, 
 who told him: 
 
CONCLUSION. 349 
 
 "There is a vessel in from Jamestown, and it 
 has brought two men to see you." 
 
 "My father and brother!" cried Mathew, in an 
 ecstasy of delight. "Are they on shore?" 
 
 "They have just landed." 
 
 Mathew hastened down to the sea-shore, where 
 he found a great crowd of people assembled. In 
 the throng was Mr. Eoby and the priest Father 
 Althara talking with two men who were strangers 
 at JSTew Plymouth. The eldest, though evidently 
 eighty years of age, had an eye that still retained 
 its youthful vigor and fire. The second was be- 
 tween forty and fifty, bearing such a remarkable 
 resemblance to Mathew that one would at once 
 suppose they were brothers. 
 
 "Here he comes," said the priest, as Mathew 
 Stevens hastened forward. " Mathew, your father, 
 Senor Estevan." No need to say more; in a 
 moment father and son, separated so many years, 
 were clasped in each other's arms. The meeting 
 between the brothers was fully as affecting, and 
 they all went to Mathew 's house, where they were 
 to remain during their visit at New Plymouth. 
 Philip Stevens had brought his wife Emily and 
 his three children with him, and never was there 
 a more happy family group. 
 
 Next day Francisco Estevan was shown the old 
 chest, which had been taken by Drake from St. 
 
350 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 Augustine. It was like meeting a friend of his 
 young childhood. When last he saw the old chest, 
 he was in his young manhood, with hair dark as 
 the raven. His beloved wife Hortense was with 
 him ; but now she had long slept in the tomb at 
 St. Augustine, while those babes, torn from the 
 arms of their fond parents, were bearded and gray- 
 haired men. Overcome with emotion at the recol- 
 lections awakened by this old chest, tears started 
 from his eyes and fell upon the quaint old lid. 
 
 Tenderly he took from the chest some old family 
 relics, among them a gauntlet worn by his father 
 in the conquest of Peru. There was also a short 
 dagger which his grandfather Hernando Bstevan 
 wore when he came with Columbus on that first 
 wonderful voyage in 1492. On the hilt of the 
 dagger was engraved the name of the beloved ad- 
 miral "Columbo," with the date and place of his 
 death, " Valladolid, Spain, May 20, 1606." Lastly 
 he took out the manuscript yellow with age, and 
 read it with as much interest as if it had been a 
 romance. 
 
 "What is it?" Mathew asked. "I have long 
 wished to know the contents of that manuscript, 
 but, being wholly ignorant of the Spanish lan- 
 guage, I found it impossible to read a line of it." 
 
 "It is the biography of your unhappy father," 
 said Senor Estevan. " It tells a story of heartaches 
 
CONCLUSION. 351 
 
 and wild, thrilling adventures. This old parch- 
 ment relates how I left my father and mother to 
 go to Spain to study for the monastery, and of the 
 last parting with my brother Eoderigo, who the 
 same day sailed for Mexico. I have never seen 
 my parents nor my brother since that bright morn- 
 ing when 1 sailed from Cuba. It narrates how 
 your father loved a fair Huguenot in France, who 
 had saved his life from a shipwreck. It tells how 
 he was captured by pirates on his return from 
 Spain, taken to Fort Carolinia, where he again met 
 his beloved Hortense and married her." The old 
 man was quite overcome by the emotions which 
 these recollections prodiiced, and it took several 
 minutes for him to recover. When he did so, he 
 recalled his parting from his brother, and said: 
 
 " My sons, I want to exact from you a promise." 
 
 "What is it?" asked both Mathew and Philip. 
 
 "You are Englishmen by adoption, education, 
 and marriage. One day there will come strife be- 
 tween the Spaniards and the English for possessions 
 in the New World.' As it may not come in your 
 day I want to admonish you to make the same re- 
 quest of your posterity which I make of you. Let 
 it be an obligation binding on your sons, that they 
 never raise their hands in deadly strife against an 
 Estevan." 
 
 " Have we relatives in Florida?" Mathew asked. 
 
353 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 "None; but I left my parents and a sister in 
 Cuba, wbere you may find their descendants. My 
 brother went to Mexico, married, and has left a 
 large family in that country. Like all other Span- 
 iards they have been trained to hate the English; 
 yet if they knew you were the sons of an Estevan, 
 their arms would be opened wide to receive you. 
 Do them no harm, I beseech of you." 
 
 "Should we, in God's providence,' meet we shall 
 remember your words," answered both Mathew 
 and Philip. 
 
 The old man then bowed his gray head thought- 
 fully in his hand, and, in a voice strangely husky, 
 said: 
 
 "I have seen the beloved faces of those whom I 
 so long mourned as dead. I have prayed long for 
 this, and now I feel that my prayer has been an- 
 swered. She is on the other side, and I have 
 nothing more to detain me here. Whensoever my 
 God calls, I am willing to depart." 
 
 "Father, father!" cried the sons, "let us thank 
 God that we have been spared to meet each 
 other." 
 
 "I do thank him from the bottom of my heart," 
 Senor Estevan answered. "Oh, Heaven, could 
 Hortense have lived to see this hour, I would be 
 happiest of all living mortals." 
 
 "Father," said Mathew reverently, "she is a wit- 
 
CONCLUSION. 353 
 
 ness to this scene. My mother looks down from 
 Heaven and beholds this glorious reunion." 
 
 The door opened and Alice and Philip's wife 
 Emily, accompanied by Father Altham and Mr. 
 Brewster, entered in time to catch the last remark. 
 The women bowed their heads, and Mr. Brewster 
 raised his hands and offered a short prayer in which 
 the priest joined. 
 
 After that hour Senor Bstevan was a quiet, 
 happy old man. 
 
 "I have seen them together once more, and 
 when I meet Hortense in Heaven I will tell her 
 all about it," he said. 
 
 Alice Stevens, when she had learned her hus- 
 band's sad life, told him that she thought it was as 
 romantic as her own. 
 
 "It has been wild and tempestuous, as the dra- 
 mas of life often are; but God, the great author 
 who writes all the real plays, brings it out all right 
 in the last act. Let us praise his holy name for 
 ever and ever." 
 
 Mathew Stevens tried to induce his brother 
 Philip to locate at Plymouth; but Philip had val- 
 uable possessions in Virginia which he could not 
 abandon. He, in turn, tried to induce his brother 
 to emigrate to the latter country. That Mathew 
 thought impossible. His wife could not think of 
 tearing herself from her parents, who had decided 
 33 
 
354 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 to pass the remainder of their days in Plymouth. 
 Consequently, after a visit of a few weeks, Philip 
 with his family and father sailed for Virginia. 
 Seiior Estevan had valuable property in Florida 
 which demanded his attention. Accompanied by 
 his son Philip, he sailed for St. Augustine to look 
 after it, and while in that city he showed his son 
 the old cottage from which he and Mathew had 
 been torn in their infancy, and pointed out the 
 marks of Drake's artillery still visible on the roof. 
 Shortly after their return to Jamestown, Senor 
 Estevan died, and his body was taken to St. Au- 
 gustine and buried by the side of his wife. Ma- 
 thew was informed of the death of his father, and 
 mourned the loss of the good man as if he had 
 been reared by his tender hand. 
 
 The colonies in New England,' especially the 
 Pilgrims at Plymouth, prospered. True, they 
 met with many drawbacks. The continual theo- 
 logico-political contests raged. The stern disci- 
 pline exercised by the government at Salem pro- 
 duced an early harvest of enemies; resentment long 
 rankled in the minds of some whom Endicott had 
 perhaps too passionately punished; and when they 
 i-eturned to England, Mason and Gorges, the rivals 
 of the Massachusetts Company, willingly listened 
 to their vindictive complaints. A petition even, 
 reached King Charles, complaining of distraction. 
 
CONCLUSION. 355 
 
 and disorder on the plantation; but it met with 
 an unexpected issue. Massachusetts was ably de- 
 fended by Saltonstall, Humphrey, and Craddock, 
 its friends in England, and the committee of the 
 privy council reported in favor of the adventurers, 
 who were ordered to continue their undertaking 
 cheerfully, for the king had no design to. impose on 
 the people of Massachusetts the ceremonies which 
 they had emigrated to avoid. The country, they 
 argued, would in time be very beneficial to England. 
 Though defeated, revenge did not slumber, and 
 the success of the Puritans in America disposed the 
 leaders of the Episcopal party to listen to the 
 clamors of the malignant. Proof was produced of 
 marriages celebrated by civil magistrates, and the 
 system of colonial church discipline, proceedings 
 which were at variance with the laws of England. 
 Such a departure from the long established laws of 
 England alarmed the archbishops, who began to 
 regard it as an affair of state, and early in 1634: a 
 ship bound with passengers for New England was 
 detained at the Thames by an order of the council. 
 Still more menacing was the appointment of an 
 arbitrary special commission for the colonies. 
 Hitherto their affairs had been confided to the privy 
 council. In April, William Laud, Archbishop of 
 York, and ten of the highest officers of state were 
 invested with full powers to make laws and orders 
 
356 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 for the government of English colonies planted in 
 foreign parts, to appoint judges and magistrates, 
 and establish courts for civil and ecclesiastical af- 
 fairs, to regulate the church, to impose penalties 
 and imprisonment for offences in ecclesiastical mat- 
 ters, to remove governors and require an account 
 of their government, to determine all appeals from 
 the colonies and revoke all charters and patents 
 which had been surreptitiously obtained, or which 
 conceded liberties prejudicial to the royal preroga- 
 tive. Craddock was charged to deliver in the pa- 
 tent of Massachusetts, and he wrote to the governor 
 and council to send it home; but on receipt of his 
 letter they resolved to make no response to the 
 demand. In September, a copy of the commission 
 of Archbishop Laud and his associates was brought 
 to Boston, and it was at the same time rumored 
 that the colonists would be compelled by force to 
 accept a new governor, the discipline of the Church 
 of England, and the laws of the commissioners.. 
 The people of Massachusetts had too long breathed 
 the free air of America to tolerate oppression. 
 Weak as they were, they resolved to do just what 
 their descendants a hundred and fifty years later 
 did — resist the tyrannical measure. They strength- 
 ened their fortification, and the ministers assem- 
 bling in Boston unanimously declared against the 
 reception of a general governor. They said: 
 
CONCLUSION. 357 
 
 " We ought to defend our lawful possessions if 
 we are able; if not, to avoid and protect." 
 
 Laud and his associates esteemed the inhabitants 
 of Massachusetts to be men of refractory humors; 
 complaints resounded of sects and schisms, of par- 
 ties consenting in nothing but hostility to the 
 Church of England, of designs to shake off the 
 royal jurisdiction. Eestraints were therefore placed 
 upon emigration; no one above the rank of serving- 
 man might remove to the colony, without the 
 special leave of the commissioners, and persons of 
 inferior order were required to take oaths of supre- 
 macy and allegiance. 
 
 Though the colonists were threatened of their 
 liberties, they preserved them. They evinced a 
 determination which, if it did not awe, at least 
 caused their enemies to pause. Already the ideas 
 of King Charles I. on the divine rights of kings 
 had begun to involve him in trouble with his sub- 
 jects at home, and he could pay little attention to 
 his saucy colonists in the wilds of North America. 
 Despite the high-handed course attempted by Laud, 
 the colony prospered, legislation was improved, 
 and courts extended ; while three thousand settlers 
 arrived. In 1639, another demand for the charter 
 was made in peremptory terms, and, after a long 
 pause, the court sent the Commissioners of Trade a 
 firm but diplomatic refusal by the hand of Win- 
 
358 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 throp; but by this time the troubles at home were 
 attracting all the attention of the enemies of the 
 colonies. The Puritan party, rising rapidly in 
 power, no longer looked to America for a refuge. 
 True, the great tide of emigration ceased to flow; 
 but the government of Massachusetts, under the 
 alternating rule of Winthrop, Dudley, and Belling- 
 ham, went on wisely and strongly. 
 
 The increasing troubles in England, which never 
 ceased until Charles I. lost his throne and his head, 
 crippled the holders of the Mason and Gorges grants, 
 and the settlements in New Hampshire, whither 
 "Wheelwright had gone, and where turbulence had 
 reigned, were gradually added to the jurisdiction 
 of Massachusetts. In domestic matters everything 
 went smoothly. There was some trouble with 
 Bellingham, and Winthrop succeeded as governor. 
 The oath of allegiance to the king taken by the 
 magistrates was abandoned, because Charles had 
 violated the privileges of Parliament,' and the last 
 vestige of dependence vanished. Already the 
 American eagle had begun to plume her wings for 
 the long flight of liberty. Massachusetts was di- 
 vided into counties, and out of a ludicrous contest 
 about a stray pig in which the deputies and magis- 
 trates took different sides, an important controver- 
 sy arose as to the powers of deputies and assistants, 
 resulting in the division of the legislature into two 
 
CONCLUSION. 359 
 
 branches, an upper and lower house, improving 
 the political system. These two branches are pre- 
 served in the legislatures and Congress to-day, 
 forming the Senate and the House of Eepresenta- 
 tives. 
 
 About this time a more important event occurred, 
 marking the first attempt at the federal system, 
 which more than a century later became the central 
 principle in the formation of the United States. 
 Menaces of the Indians and the Dutch early con- 
 vinced Connecticut and New Haven that some sort 
 of union of the English was necessary. At first, 
 Massachusetts was lukewarm; but, at last, com- 
 missioners from Connecticut, Plymouth, and New 
 Haven came to Boston, and a New England con- 
 federation was formed. This confederacy excluded 
 Ehode Island and the Gorges settlements in Maine, 
 and provided for little more than an alliance offen- 
 sive and defensive, with powers to make war and 
 peace, under the name of the United Colonies of 
 New England, increasing their power and giving 
 themselves confidence in each other, as they 
 marched shoulder to shoulder through the ages 
 to liberty. 
 
 Those whose fortunes we have followed through- 
 out this story enjoyed that long peace which was 
 the result of their courage and hardships, and they 
 trained their children to grow up in the love of the 
 
360 THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 inestimable liberties of which they had only re- 
 ceived a taste. They were a great nation iu 
 embryo before they landed at Plymouth Rock. 
 The seed of the nation was in the little compacti 
 made on board the Mayflower, in which there was. 
 expressed that love of civil and religious liberty 
 inherent in every son and daughter of North 
 America. 
 
 THE END. 
 
IIISTOEIOAL INDEX. 
 
 PAQB 
 
 Adventures in the forest 67 
 
 Alden, John, a cooper from London 59 
 
 Alden's wedding 188 
 
 Anglican church 17 
 
 Archbishop of York, Laud 355 
 
 Argument for planting at Cape Cod 80 
 
 Ark, The, at Barbadoes 399 
 
 Arrival of De Easierie's Commission at New Plymouth. 162 
 
 Arrival of Commissioners in Boston 356 
 
 Avalon, Baltimore at 39CI 
 
 Bacon, Lord 39 
 
 Ballot-box, first used in America 199 
 
 Baltimore, Lord, death of ; succeeded by Cecil, Lord 
 
 Baltimore 39£ 
 
 Baltimore piously decides to provide an asylum for 
 
 persecuted Catholics 39C 
 
 Baltimore's patent for lands south of James River 394 
 
 Billington's child lost lOf 
 
 Billingtons, father and son 56 
 
 Billington, Francis, punished for insubordination.... 159 
 
 Billington, John, endangers The Mayflower 81 
 
 Billington, John, hung for murder 34£ 
 
 Block, Adrien, captain of Kgressin New York Harbor. 13? 
 
 Block Island, Indians on, attacked 33C 
 
 Board of Lords Commissioners of American planta- 
 tions appointed by Charles 1 187 
 
 Boston founded, September 7, 1630 191 
 
 361 
 
363 HISTORICAL INDEX. 
 
 FAQE 
 
 Bradford caught in a trap 73 
 
 Bradford, William, chosen second governor of the Pil- 
 grims 100 
 
 Brewster, William 4 
 
 Brewster preaches his last sermon on The Mayflower. . 89 
 
 Butten, William, dies on voyage 63 
 
 Calvert, Leonard, first governor of Maryland 397 
 
 Calvert at Jamestown 300 
 
 Calvert's Colony on the Potomac 305 
 
 Calvert purchases land from the Indians 308 
 
 Cape Cod, Pilgrims in sight of 63 
 
 Carver and Cushmau chosen to go to England and fa.ke 
 with them the seven articles from the church 
 
 at Leyden 37 
 
 Carver chosen governor ; his death 100 
 
 Carver receives letter from Eobinson 59 
 
 Charlestown, Mass. , founded 190 
 
 Charter for Maryland 339 
 
 Charter for the New Netherland 135 
 
 Charter of Massachusetts ordered to be delivered up. . . 356 
 
 Charles I. involved in trouble at home 357 
 
 Colonists threatened of their liberties 357 
 
 Commissioners appointed for Massachusetts 355 
 
 Compact of Pilgrims 63 
 
 Connecticut granted to Earl of Warwick 167 
 
 Connecticut River discovered 134 
 
 Connecticut declares war against Pequods 344 
 
 Coppin, Robert, tells the Pilgrims of a suitable place 
 
 for planting 81 
 
 Cotton, John, arrives in New England in 1633 197 
 
 Cotton opposes Williams 303 
 
 Cummaquid, Pilgrims at 110 
 
 Davenport, Rev. John, an-ives in Boston 363 
 
 Davenport's colony framing constitution on the scrip- 
 tures 365 
 
HISTORICAL INDEX. 368 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Death of Rose Standish 104 
 
 De Easierie's description of New Plymouth and the 
 
 worship of the Pilgrims 165 
 
 Dermer orders the Dutch from Manhattan 137 
 
 Destruction of The Tigress 133 
 
 Discoveries in Indian mounds 76, 77, 78 
 
 Discoveries of Pilgrims on shore 70 
 
 Dorchester Company try to establish a colony at Cape 
 
 Ann 190 
 
 Dorchester founded, Sept. 7, 1630 191 
 
 Dove, The, returns to The Ark 300 
 
 Dutch seek to have Pilgrims emigrate under them .... 36 
 
 Dutch Point fortified 157 
 
 Dutch West India Company 133| 
 
 Dutch West India Company take possession of Con- 
 necticut 156 
 
 Dutch governor sends a friendly messenger to Governor 
 
 Bradford 158 
 
 Dutch treaty with Five Nations 136 
 
 Eaton, Theophalus 363 
 
 Eaton, Theophalus, elected first magistrate of Quinni- 
 
 piac 366 
 
 English at Micomoco 307 
 
 English colony planted in the valley of Connecticut. . . 166 
 
 English in Connecticut 319 
 
 English trespassing on the Dutch 368 
 
 Endicott, commander of first expedition against Block 
 
 Island 313 
 
 Escape of the Pilgrims from England 13 
 
 Expedition to Nanset far the lost boy 109 
 
 Fort Amsterdam 131 
 
 Fort Good Hope built 168 
 
 Fort Orange 131 
 
 Freemen's oath 303 
 
 Freemen of Massachusetts choose deputies 198 
 
364 HISTORICAL INDEX. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Gorges grant 134 
 
 Harvard College founded by John Harvard, 1633 310 
 
 Hartford Convention in 1639 269 
 
 Harvey, governor of Virginia, orders Baltimore to 
 
 leave his territory 293 
 
 Haynes arrives in Massachusetts 197 
 
 Holland a place of refuge for the Pilgrims 20 
 
 Houses of the Pilgrims 105 
 
 Housatonic River discovered 124 
 
 Hooker's colony emigrates to Connecticut 197 
 
 Humber, the Pilgrims at 5 
 
 Holmes, William, planting in Connecticut at Fort 
 
 Good Hope 226 
 
 Hopkins, Edward, arrived at Boston 263 
 
 Hunt kidnaps Indians in America 35 
 
 Hutchinson, Anna, murdered by Indians 250 
 
 Indians attack the Pilgrims 85 
 
 Indian depredations in Connecticut 230 
 
 Indian houses discovered 79 
 
 Investments of Pilgrims at Southampton 53 
 
 Jones, captain of Tlie Mayflower, accompanies the 
 second expedition of Pilgrims on shore at Cape 
 
 Cod 74 
 
 King James, charter of 19 
 
 liaud. Archbishop of York 355 
 
 Land of steady habits 370 
 
 Landing of the Pilgrims 87 
 
 Laud, threatens the colonists of their liberties 857 
 
 Love story of Miles Standish 173 
 
 Lynn, Massachusetts, founded 190 
 
 Manhattan Island purchased of the Indians for twenty- 
 four dollars 131 
 
 Maryland has a representative government in 1C39 .... 309 
 
 Maryland, how chartered and named 295 
 
 Massasoit the sagamore 96 
 
HISTORICAL INDEX. 365 
 
 PAOB 
 
 Massacre of the Pequods 256 
 
 Massachusetts colony in trouble 355 
 
 Mason and Gorges grants 134 
 
 Mason and Gorges grants weakened 358 
 
 Mason attacks the Pequod fort 355 
 
 Mason at Hartford 351 
 
 Mason, Captain John, commander of the whites in 
 
 Connecticut 344 
 
 Matchlock, the 9 
 
 Mayflower at Southampton 53 
 
 Mayflower sails with Pilgrims, Sept. 6, 1620 61 
 
 Mayflower com-psLct 63 
 
 Miles Standish 58 
 
 Miles Standish and men set out to explore the countiy . 67 
 Miles Standish and party set out to discover a suitable 
 
 place for planting 83 
 
 Miles Standish chosen captain of Pilgrims 94 
 
 Miles Standish's second epcpedition 74 
 
 Murder, the first in New England 344 
 
 Narragansetts and Niantucks join the English 352 
 
 New Amsterdam 131 
 
 New England Confederation 859 
 
 New England named by Captain John Smith 36 
 
 New Foimdland, Baltimore at 392 
 
 New Hampshire 135 
 
 New Haven formed from the state of Quinnipiac in 1640. 367 
 
 North Virginia Company seeks a new patent 47 
 
 Oldham, John, killed by Pequods 311 
 
 Orange, Fort 131 
 
 Order of punishment of Roger Williams 304 
 
 Patent granted to Pilgrims 49 
 
 Patuxet 97 
 
 Pequods defeated at Groton 356 
 
 Pequod Indians on Block Island, hostilities against. . . 211 
 
 Pequods jealous of English 218 
 
366 HISTORICAL INDEX. 
 
 PAOB 
 
 Pequod, the last 359 
 
 Pequod war begins 344 
 
 Pilgrims at Leyden 34 
 
 Pilgrims begin to build 90 
 
 Pilgrims' contract with London merchants 47 
 
 Pilgrims leave Leyden and reach Delf shaven 50 
 
 Pilgrims' petition to king for liberty of religion 38 
 
 Pilgrims seeking fuel 65 
 
 Pilgrims set sail, August 5th, and return '. 59 
 
 Pilgrims' watch-fire 71 
 
 Piscataways, Calvert's treaty with 306 
 
 Plague in New England, in 1617 36 
 
 Plantation covenant of Davenport 363 
 
 Plymouth Company get a new charter 138 
 
 Plymouth Rock 87 
 
 Providence founded 309 
 
 Puritans outwitting the Dutch for possessions in Con- 
 necticut 335 
 
 Puritan, term have originated 16 
 
 Quinnipiac 363 
 
 Quinnipiac changed to New Foundland 367 
 
 Quitting Holland 50 
 
 Reformation in England 16 
 
 Reinolds, master of The Speedwell 53 
 
 Rhode Island founded 309 
 
 Robinson, John, favors emigration to the Hudson 46 
 
 Robinson, John, the Puritan preacher 4 
 
 Robinson's last charge to Pilgrims 51 
 
 Robinson to remain at Leyden 48 
 
 St. Mary's, town of, laid out 308 
 
 Samoset appears to Pilgrims 96 
 
 Sandys, Sir Edwyn, treasurer of London Company. ... 45 
 
 Sassacus at Groton 356 
 
 Sassaous, chief of the Pequods 319 
 
 Sassacus, death of 358 
 
HISTORICAL INDEX. 367 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Separatist, how originated 18 
 
 Smith and Hunt on the New England coast 35 
 
 Southampton, Pilgrims at 53 
 
 Speedwell leaking 52 
 
 Speedwell abandoned 60 
 
 Squanto the Patuxet 98 
 
 Thames River discovered 134 
 
 Town house takes fire 93 
 
 Treaty between Pilgrims and Massasoit 99 
 
 Uncas, the friend of the white people 244 
 
 Uncas made chief 359 
 
 Underhill, Captain John 344 
 
 Underbill sent to attack the Pequods at Groton 356 
 
 Van Twiller, the Dutch Governor of New Netherland 367 
 
 Virginia, Baltimore in 393 
 
 Voyages of The Ark and Dove 397 
 
 Walloons 180 
 
 Warwick conveys his chartered rights to Connecticut 
 
 to Lords Say, Seale, Brooke et al. , in 1633 168 
 
 Watertown founded, September 7th, 1630 191 
 
 White, William, death of Ill 
 
 White's, Father, description of Potomac 305 
 
 Whitgift forbids preaching 17 
 
 Williams, Roger, arrives in Massachusetts, March 5th, 
 
 1631 191 
 
 Williams, Roger, sketch of 193 
 
 Williams among the Indians 308 
 
 Williams among the Narragansetts 330 
 
 Williams banished ; order of banishment 304 
 
 Williams called as pastor of Salem ; withdraws and 
 
 goes to Plymouth 194 
 
 Williams founds Rhode Island 309 
 
 Williams resolves to prevent the Narragansetts from 
 
 uniting with the Pequods 338 
 
 Williams before Miantanomoh 334 
 
368 HISTORICAL INDEX. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Williams' second call to Salem 300 
 
 Williams' trouble with the church 201 
 
 Windows of the Pilgrims 247 
 
 Wives and children of the Pilgrims seized by the 
 
 King's horse 15 
 
 Wives and children of Pilgrims released 21 
 
 Wood, fuel of Mayflower, scarce 63. 
 
OHEOI^OLOGY. 
 
 PERIOD v.— AGE OF REASON. 
 A.D. leaO TO A.D. 1643. 
 
 1620. Great patent granted to Plymouth Company, 40° 
 
 to 48° lat., and ocean to ocean, — Nov. 3. 
 Plymouth, Mass., settled by the Puritans, — Dec. 
 11. (Compact signed on the Mayflower before 
 landing, — Nov. 11.) 
 
 1621. Treaty with Massasoit, chief of the Wampa- 
 
 noags, which •was the beginning of fifty years 
 of peace, — March 23. 
 
 1622. Gorges and Mason's grant between the Merri- 
 
 mac and Kennebec rivers. 
 Opechanoanouqh's war ; first Indian massacre in 
 Virginia; 347 whites killed,— March 32. 
 
 1623. Portsmouth and Dover, N. H. , settled by Gorges 
 
 and Mason. 
 
 1625. Accession op Charles I. to the throne of Eng- 
 land,— March 37. 
 
 1628. Endicott'S grant from the Plymouth Company, 
 from three miles south of the Charles River 
 to three miles north of the Merrimac River, 
 and from ocean to ocean, — March 19. 
 Salem, Mass., settled by the Massachusetts Bay 
 Company; Gov. John End icott, — Sept. 6. 
 
370 CHRONOLOGY. 
 
 1629. Order of Patroons founded by the Dutch in New 
 
 Netherlands. 
 
 1630. Warwick's grant, "westward from NaiTagan- 
 
 sett Eiver, 120 miles along the coast, west toi 
 the Pacific Ocean. " 
 Boston founded by Winthrop. 
 
 1631. Waewick's grant transferred to Lords Say, 
 
 Brooke, and others, — March 10. 
 Mason named his grant New Hampshire. 
 Gorges named his grant Maine. 
 
 1632. Maryland granted to Lord Baltimore. 
 
 1633. Windsor, Conn., settled by William Holmes, from 
 
 Plymouth, Mass. 
 
 1634. Maryland settled at St. Mary's by Calvert, — 
 
 March 27. 
 16.36. Providence, R. I., founded by Roger Williams. 
 
 1637. Pequod war in Connecticut, — First Indian war in 
 
 New England. 
 
 1638. Delaware settled near Wilmington by Swedes 
 
 and Finns, — New Sweden. 
 
 New Haven, Conn., settled by Eaton and Daven- 
 port, — April 18. 
 
 Harvard College founded by bequest of John 
 Harvard, at Cambridge, Mass., — Sept. 14. 
 
 1639. First printing-press in America, at Cambridge, 
 
 Mass. , — Januai'y. 
 
 1641. New Hampshire settlements united to Massachu- 
 setts. 
 
 1643. United Colonies of New England formed,— 
 May 19. 
 
XHE 
 
 COLUMBIffl HISTORICAL NOVELS. 
 
 A Complete History of Our Country, from the Time of Columbus 
 down to the present Day, in the form of Twelve Complete 
 Stories. By John R. Musick. Uniform Size and 
 Style; 8vo, Half Morocco, and Cloth Bind- 
 ings, One Hundred Half-Tone Plates, 
 Maps of the Period, and numer- 
 ous Pen and Ink Drawings 
 by F. A. Carter. 
 
 Vol. 
 
 I. 
 
 Vol. 
 
 II. 
 
 Vol. 
 
 III. 
 
 Vol. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Vol. 
 
 V. 
 
 Vol. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Vol. 
 
 VII. 
 
 Voi.vni. 
 
 Vol. 
 
 IX. 
 
 Vol. 
 
 X. 
 
 Vol. 
 
 XI. 
 
 Vol. 
 
 XII. 
 
 TITLES : 
 
 Columbia : A Story of the Discovery of America. 
 Estevan : A Story of the Spanish Conquests. 
 St. Augustine : A Story of the Huguenots. 
 Pocahontas : A Story of Virginia. 
 The Pilgrims: A Story of Massachusetts. 
 A Century Too Soon: A Story of Bacon's Rebellion. 
 The Witch of Salem ; or, Credulity Run Mad. 
 Braddock ; A Story of the French and Indian Wars. 
 Independence : A Story of the American Revolution. 
 Sustained Honor: A Story of the War of 1812. 
 Humbled Pride : A Story of the Mexican War. 
 Union : A Story of the Great Rebellion and of Events 
 down to the Present Day. 
 
 The Historical Divisions are : ist. Age of Discovery ; 2d, 
 Conquest ; 3d. Bigotry ; 4th. Colonization ; 5th. Reason ; 6th. 
 Tyranny ; 7th. Superstition ; 8th. Contention of Powers for 
 Supremacy ; gth. Independence ; loth. Liberty Established ; 
 irth. Supremacy Abroad; 12th. Union. 
 
 FUNK & WAGNALLS COflPANY, Publishers, 
 
 30 Lafayette Place, New York. 
 
 LONDON; TORONTO, CAN.: 
 
 44 Fleet Street. 11 Richmond St., W.