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twg_000012924300 | of the settlement. . SECOND MARRIAGES. Doubtless the Indians lurking in the woods of Watson's Hill had watched with wonder and alarm the process of mounting and securing the ordnance of the Fort, itself a novel structure in their eyes, and wisely concluded to consider the question of peace or war a little further before bringing it to an open | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924301 | issue. At any rate, they were no more seen at present, and the colonists wasted no time in pursuing them, but as the ground dried and warmed hastened to put in such grain and garden seeds as they had provided, and to lay out the little plots of ground attached to each house. Among the other crops was one whose | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924302 | harvest no man, woman, or child of that well-nigh famished company would have eaten, a crop of wheat whose ripened seeds were allowed to fall as they would, to sink again into the earth, or to feed the birds of heaven, for it was sown above the leveled graves of that half the Pilgrims who in the first four months | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924303 | found the city that they sought. So numerous and so prominent upon the bold bluff of Cole's Hill were these graves becoming, that Standish, overlooking the town from the Fort and his home close beneath its walls, pointed out to Carver and Bradford that the savages, doubtless as keen-eyed as himself, would in seeing how many of the invaders were | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924304 | under ground find courage to attack those still living, and it was his proposal that the earth should be leveled and planted. "To what crop?" asked Bradford. "It matters not," replied Standish a little impatiently. "No man will care to eat of it, knowing what lies beneath." "'Thou sowest not that body that shall be, but bare grain, it may | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924305 | chance of wheat or of some other grain, but God giveth it a body,'" quoted Carver in a low voice, and Standish reverently answered,-- "Ay. Let it be wheat, since that is Paul's order." But that night as the sun was setting behind the gloomy evergreen forest closing the western horizon, the captain, avoiding his comrades, went quietly up the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924306 | hill to the Fort, and thence made a circuit northward and eastward so as to come out upon the bluff of Cole's Hill. Passing among the graves with careful feet he presently stood beside one, mounded and shaped with care, and protected by willow rods bent over it and into the ground at either side. Recently cut, these boughs yet | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924307 | bore their pretty catkins, and the leaves which had already started seemed inclined to persist in life and growth. Removing his buff-cap and folding his arms Standish stood long beside this grave, silent and almost stern of look, but his heart eloquent with that deep and inarticulate language in which great souls commune with God, and with those mysteries of | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924308 | life so far transcending man's comprehension or powers of definition. At last he gently pulled up the ends of the willow rods at one side, and passing round to the other would have done the same, but seeing how fresh and green they looked held his hand. "They would grow an' I left them," muttered he; but then with a | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924309 | mournful gesture added in the same tone, "Nay, then, what need. I shall know where thou liest, Rose, and"-- Not ungently he drew the twigs from the earth, and stood holding them in his hand as a voice behind him said,-- "Ay, brother, we must say good-by even to the graves we have loved. Stern necessity is our master." Standish, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924310 | ill pleased at the interruption, turned a dark face upon the new-comer. "And yet I have heard, Master Winslow, that thou art already speaking of marriage with Mistress White. Is stern necessity master there also?" "Yes, Standish," replied Winslow frowning a little and speaking more coldly than at first. "You may see it for yourself. Here are we, a scant | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924311 | threescore souls, not one score grown men, come to people a savage land and make terms with hordes of savage inhabitants. Is it not the clearest, ay, sternest necessity that those of us who are unwived, to our sorrow though it be, should take the women who remain, be they maids or widows, in honorable wedlock, and rear up children | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924312 | to fill our places when we are gone? Have we a right, man, to follow our own fantasies and mourn and mourn like cushat doves over the graves of our lost mates while the women we ought to cherish struggle on uncared for?" "Hast put the matter in this light to William White's widow?" asked Standish sarcastically. "Nay," returned Winslow | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924313 | with his usual calm. "Words that suit men are not always for women's ears. What I may say to Susanna White is not of necessity the business of the Council"-- "Any more than my errand here to-night," retorted Standish, the spark kindling in his brown eyes. "Softly, brother, softly," replied Winslow in his measured tones, and laying a finger upon | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924314 | the other's arm. "It would ill befit us two to quarrel here between thy wife's grave and mine. We are brethren, and if I said aught that mispleased thee I am right sorry"-- "Nay, then, 't is I was hasty," interrupted Standish. "Surely thy marriage is thine own affair, not mine, and I wish you godspeed with all my heart." | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924315 | "And yet, brother, I am not all content lacking thine approval, for there is neither head nor heart in the colony more honorable than thine." "'He who praises thee to the face is a false friend; the true one reproveth thee,'" quoted Standish with his peculiar grim smile. "And am not I reproving thee for thy selfish disregard of the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924316 | common weal?" persisted Winslow, his own smile a little forced. "Nay, then, must I bewray confidence and tell thee that one who knows assures me that Priscilla Molines would not say thee nay wert thou to ask her?" "Pst! What folly art thou at now, Master Winslow? This is no more than woman's gossip. Some of thy new love's havers, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924317 | I'll be bound." "Did not William Molines send to seek speech with thee the night he died?" asked Winslow fixing his keen eyes upon the soldier's perturbed face. "Ay, but it was he and I alone." "Well, then, he had taken counsel first with a godly matron, in whose judgment he trusted." "Mistress White?" "Ay." "I would I had known | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924318 | it that day." And with no farther good-by the Captain turned and strode down the hill ill pleased. The next day rose warm and misty. The veiled sun seemed smiling behind the soft vapors, and the earth throbbing with the sweet hopes of spring smiled back at him. The leaves of willow, and alder, and birch, and maple, and elm, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924319 | uncurled their delicate fronds and shyly held out hands of welcome to the south wind; the birds sang clear and sweet in the woods, and the delicate springs of sweet water answered back with rippling laughter and joyous dance. "A goodly scene, a veritable garden of the Lord," said William Bradford standing outside the elder's door, and gazing down upon | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924320 | the valley of Town Brook, and across at the wood-covered hillside beyond. Standish, whom he addressed, was just coming out of the house, after his breakfast, and without reply laid his hand upon the younger man's arm and led him up the hill. "Whither bound this fair morning my Captain?" asked Bradford, in whose blood the brave morning air worked | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924321 | like wine. "First to fetch my snaphance, and then I will have thee into the wood for a stroll to enjoy thy fine day, and to hold counsel with thy friend." "And that is ever to mine own advantage," replied Bradford with affectionate honesty. Standish glanced at him with the rare sweetness sometimes lighting the rigor of his soldierly face, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924322 | and as they had reached the door of the cabin nestled beneath the Fort, where John Alden and his friend abode, Standish entered, leaving the future governor to feast his eyes upon the wider view outspread at his feet. Climbing still further to the platform of the Fort, he stood lost in reverie, his eyes fixed upon the lonely Mayflower, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924323 | sole occupant of the harbor, as she clumsily rode at anchor tossing upon the flood tide. "We shall miss the crazy craft when she is gone," said Standish rejoining him. "Ay. She is the last bit of Old England," replied Bradford, musingly. For a few moments the two men stood intently gazing upon the vessel, each heart busy with its | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924324 | own thoughts, then, as by a common impulse turned, descending the side of the hill toward the lower spring, and passed into the forest. "What is thy matter for counsel, friend?" asked Bradford finding that Standish strode on in what seemed gloomy silence. "Yon ship." "The Mayflower?" "What other? She brought a hundred souls to these shores some six months | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924325 | agone." "Ay, and now we are fifty." "Fifty alive, and fifty under the sea, or on yon headland where to-day we level the mounds over their poor bodies and plant wheat to cheat the salvages." "'T is too true, good friend, and well I wot that the delight of thine eyes lies buried there"-- "And thine beneath the waters of | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924326 | our first harbor," interrupted Standish harshly, for the proud, tender heart could not bear even so light a touch. "Yes," replied Bradford briefly, and over his face passed a cloud blotting out all the boyish enjoyment of scene and hour that had enlivened its ordinarily thoughtful features. Was Dorothy May indeed the delight of his eyes and heart? "Yes, we | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924327 | two men came hither husbands, and to-day we stand as widowers, and 't is in that matter I seek counsel," exclaimed Standish suddenly as he turned to face his friend. "Last night, Master Winslow standing between the graves of his wife and mine, read me a lecture upon the duty unwived men owe to the community. He says it is | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924328 | naught but selfishness to let our private griefs rule our lives, that we are bound to seek new mates and raise up children to carry on the work we have begun. Nor can we doubt his own patriotism, or the honesty of his counsels, for already he has spoken to the widow of William White, and his own wife but | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924329 | six weeks under ground." "Yes, I know--they will be wed shortly," replied Bradford a little embarrassed. Standish eyed him keenly. "And thou art of his mind, and mayhap thine own new mate is already bespoken?" demanded he in angry surprise. "Nay, Standish, thou 'rt not reasonable to quarrel with another man's conscience so that it thwarts not thine," replied Bradford | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924330 | patiently, although the color rose to his cheek as he felt the scorn of his comrade's voice. "Neither Winslow nor I would do aught that we could not answer for to God, and have not we come to this wilderness that we might be free to serve Him only, in matters of conscience?" "I meant not to forget courtesy, nay, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924331 | nor friendship neither, Bradford; but my speech is ever hasty and none too smooth. So thou wilt marry, anon?" "I'll tell thee friend, and thou 'rt the first I've told. There is a lady in the old country"-- "Which old country? The Netherlands or England?" "She is in England now, or was when we set forth. Thou must have seen | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924332 | her, Standish,--Alice Carpenter, who wedded Edward Southworth in Amsterdam." "Oh, ay. A goodly crop of daughters had Father Carpenter, and not one hung on hand so soon as she was marriageable. Truly, I remember Mistress Southworth well, a fair and discreet dame. And she was left a widow not many days before we left England, if I mistake not." "Ay. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924333 | One little week." "And didst thou woo her as in the play I saw when last I was in London, King Richard wooed the widow of him he had slain, following her husband's corse to the grave? Nay then, nay then, man, I meant it not awry. But to ask a woman within one week of her widowhood, and thou | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924334 | still wived"-- "Nay, nay, nay, Myles, thou 'rt all aglee and I doubt me if I had not better kept mine own counsel. I have not looked upon Alice Carpenter's face nor heard her voice since she was Southworth's wife." "Oh, ay--I see, I see--'t is an old flame and thou 'rt of mind to try to kindle it once | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924335 | more. You were sweethearts of old, eh, lad?" "Something so,--though I meant not to say so much, and now must leave the secret in thine honor, Captain." "Dost doubt the ward, Bradford?" "Nay. I trust thee as myself, and thou knowest it. Why must thou ever be so hot, Myles? Yes, when Master Carpenter and his fair troop of daughters | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924336 | came to Leyden it was not long until I saw that Alice was both fairest and sweetest of them all; but thou knowest the fight we had for bread, winning it by strange and unaccustomed labors: I, who knew naught but my books, and something of husbandry, becoming a weaver of baize; Brewster a ribbon weaver, Tilley a silk worker, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924337 | Cushman a wool comber, Eaton a carpenter, and so on; well, goodman Carpenter was loth to trust his maid to such scant living as I could offer, nor would he let us even call ourselves troth-plight; and Alice, the gentle, timid maid that she was, yielded all to her father's will, and I, in the naughty pride of a young | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924338 | man's heart, was angered that she would not promise to hold herself against all importunities, and we quarreled, or forsooth I should say I quarreled, and flung away, and I knew Dorothy May and her kin, and she, poor soul, was ready to wed as her father willed"-- "Enough Will, enough; it is not good to put all that is | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924339 | in one's heart into words. I see the whole story. And now thou 'lt write to Mistress Southworth and ask her to come out with the residue of our company, and become thy wife?" "Ay, dear friend, that is my plan," said Bradford, wringing the hand Standish extended, and turning his flushed face aside. "And why not?" asked Myles heartily. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924340 | "'T is no new affair, no hasty furnishing forth of a marriage feast with the cold vivers of the funeral tables, as yon fellow said in the play. 'T is marvelous like one of those old romaunts my kinswoman Barbara used to tell over to me and the dear lass that's gone. There now--and thou hadst not this matter in | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924341 | hand, I'd wive thee to Barbara Standish--'t is the best wench alive, I do believe, and full of quip, and crank as a jest book." "Thy cousin?" asked Bradford rather absently. "Ay, but I know not just how nigh. Her father held for his lifetime a little place of ours on the Isle of Man, and I, trying to find | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924342 | an old record that should give me a fair estate feloniously held from me now, went over there once and again, and so met Rose, and went yet again and again, until we two wed, and I carried her away to my friends in the Netherlands." "And is thy cousin wed?" "Nay, did not I say I'd like to give | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924343 | her to thee to wife? But barring that, I'll send for her to come with the next company, perchance under charge of thy sober widow, Will, and I'll marry her to one of these our good friends here. So if I do not marry myself, for the weal of the community as Winslow says, I shall purvey for some one | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924344 | of them a wife and mother of children in my stead." "'T is well thought on, Captain," replied Bradford laughing, "and I can promise that if Mistress Southworth makes the voyage she will gladly take charge of thy cousin, for whom we will choose a husband of our best. But why wilt not thou marry again, thyself? Was not that | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924345 | in thy mind in speaking of counsel?" "Ay--nay--in good sooth I know not, lad. I fain would know thine own intentions, and I have them, but for myself--truth to tell, I care not to wed again. I lived many years with only my good sword here as sweetheart and comrade, and I was well stead, and--none can make good the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924346 | treasure late found and soon lost--but yet--come now, Will, confidence for confidence, I'll tell thee somewhat"-- "Touching fair Mistress Priscilla?" asked Bradford with a smile of quiet humor. "Aha!" exclaimed Standish, a swarthy color mounting to his cheek. "'T is common talk, then!" "Well, I know not--certes I have heard it spoken on more than once, but to say 'common | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924347 | talk'--we who are left alive are so few and so bound together that 't is no more than a family, and the weal of each is common to all." "But what hast thou heard, in very truth?" "Why, naught, except that Priscilla hath a sort of kindness for thee, and thou hast, in a way, made her affairs thine own, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924348 | and so 't was naught but likely"-- "Ay, ay, I see, I ever had but an ill idea of great families, having been born into one myself,--as thou sayest, the affairs of one are the gossip of all." "Nay, I said"-- "Pst, man, I know what thou saidst, and what I think, so hold thy peace. Nay, then, this idle | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924349 | prating hath a certain foundation, as smoke aye shows some little fire beneath, and I'll tell it thee. When William Molines lay a-dying his mind was sore distraught at leaving his poor, motherless maid alone, for his son Joseph had gone before him, so he sent for me to watch with him that night, and somewhere in the small hours | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924350 | we thought his time had come, and he besought me to promise that I would take the maid under my keeping and not let her come to want. He said naught of marriage, nor did I, for my wife was but then at rest, and such speech would have been unseemly for him and hateful to me. I took his | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924351 | words as they were spoken, and I gave my promise, and so far as there was need I have kept it, and seen that the maid was housed and fed and looked after by Mistress Brewster, but more, I thought not on." "Master Molines was a discreet and careful man and seldom told out all his thought," said Bradford astutely. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924352 | "Methinks he counted upon 'the way of a man with a maid,' and left it to thee to find out the most perfect plan of caring for a young gentlewoman." "Dost think so, Will? Dost think he meant me to take her to wife? Dost think she so considers it?" and Myles snatching off his barret-cap pushed up the hair | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924353 | from his suddenly heated and burning forehead. Bradford looked at him with his peculiar smile of subtle humor and shrewd kindliness. "Why, Myles, thou lookst fairly frightened! Thou who never counted the foe, or thought twice ere leading a forlorn hope, or asked quarter of Turk or Spaniard"-- "Nay, nay, nay, Will, spare thy gibes! Here is a moil, here | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924354 | is an ambushment! Here am I, going fair and softly on mine own way, and of a sudden the trap is sprung, and Honor starts up and cries, 'There's but one way out of it, take it, willy-nilly!' If the maid is of her father's mind I am bound to her." "I think she would not say thee nay," said | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924355 | Bradford demurely. "Thou hast no right to avow that, Will, and I were but a sorry knave to believe it. A lady's yea-say is an honor to any man, and he who receives it must do so in all reverence. No man hath a right to fancy or to say that a modest maid is ready with yea or nay | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924356 | before she is asked." "Thou art right, and I wrong, Myles, and in truth I know naught of Mistress Priscilla's mind." "But I will, and that ere many days are past. Thou hast done me a good turn, Will, in showing me where I stand. I dreamed not that Molines was--well,--he died peacefully and I will not disturb his rest. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924357 | Yes, I will but wait until the Mayflower is gone and my cabin weather-tight, and the garden sown, and then I will speak with Priscilla. If Barbara comes she'll be rare good company for both of us." Again Bradford smiled very quietly, and the two men walked on in silence. . SAMOSET. Once more the freemen of the colony were | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924358 | convened in Council around the well-scoured table in the principal room of the Common house, become for the nonce a House of Commons, and Captain Standish was explaining the scheme he had arranged for organizing his little army, when again the solemnity of the meeting was invaded by shrill cries of alarm and anger, this time, however, in a solo | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924359 | rather than chorus, for goodwife Billington having taken the field, her more timid sisters were abashed into silence. "Thou foul beast, I say begone! Scat! Avaunt! Nay, grin not at me thou devil straight from hell! Wait but till I fetch a bucket of boiling water to throw over thee, thou Cheshire cat! I'll soon see how much of thy | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924360 | nasty color is fast dye"-- "What means this unseemly brawling?" sternly demanded Elder Brewster as Standish ceased speaking, and all eyes involuntarily turned toward the door. "Billington, the voice is that of thy wife. Go, and warn her that we tolerate no common scolds in our midst, and that the cucking-stool and the pillory"-- But the elder's threats and Billington's | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924361 | shamefaced obedience and the wonder of all who had listened to the outbreak were cut short by a startling apparition upon the threshold; the savages had really come at last, or at least one of them, for here stood, tall and erect, the splendid figure of a man, naked except for a waistband of buckskin fringe, his skin of a | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924362 | bright copper color glistening in the morning sun, and forming a rich background for the vari-colored paints with which it was decorated; his coarse, black hair, cut square above the eyebrows, fell upon his shoulders at the back, and was ornamented by three eagle-feathers woven into its tresses; in his hand he carried a bow nearly as tall as himself, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924363 | and two arrows; a sharp little hatchet, evidently of European make, was thrust into his girdle, but the keenness of its edge was less than that of the glances with which he watched the slightest movement of the armed men who started to their feet at his approach. The savage was the first to speak, and his utterance has become | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924364 | as classic as Csar's "Veni,"--for it was,-- "Welcome!" As he pronounced it, and looked about him with kindly, if wary eyes, the Pilgrims drew a long breath, and the tense anxiety of the moment lapsed into aspects various as the temperaments of the men. "What! Do these men speak English, then!" exclaimed Allerton bewildered, while Standish muttered,-- "Look to your | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924365 | side-arms, men. He may mean treachery," and noble Carver, extending his hand, said,-- "Thanks for your courtesy, friend. How know you our language?" "I am Samoset. I am friend of Englishmen. I come to say welcome." "Truly 't is a marvel to hear him speak in our own tongue and so glibly too. Mark you how he chooses his words | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924366 | as one of some dignity himself," said Bradford softly, but the quick ears of the savage caught the substance of his words, and tapping his broad chest lightly with his fingers he proudly replied,-- "Samoset, sachem of Monhegan. Samoset do well to many Englishmen in his own country." "And where is Monhegan, friend Samoset?" asked Carver pleasantly. "Might it be | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924367 | this place?" "This place Patuxet. Monhegan nearer to the sunrise," replied Samoset pointing eastward. "And how far?" "Suppose walk, five days; big wind in ship, one day." "And how camest thou, and when?" "Ship. Three, four moons ago." "Ah, then it is not an armed assault upon us," said Carver aside and in a tone of relief. "Nay, these salvages | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924368 | are more treacherous than a quicksand. Try him with more questions," suggested Hopkins, the other men murmuring assent, while the Indian glancing with his opaque, black eyes from one to another showed not how much he understood of what went on about him. "'In vino veritas,'" suggested Bradford with a smile. "Were it not well to give him something by | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924369 | way of welcome?" "Samoset like beer. Much talk make throat dry like brook in summer," remarked the guest, but whether in response or not no one could say. "Thou 'rt right, man, and though thy skin's tawny, thy inside is very like a white man's," exclaimed Standish with a laugh. "John Alden, thou knowest the cupboards of this place passing | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924370 | well; find our friend wherewith to fill yon dry brook-bed of a throat; that is with the governor's permission." "Surely, surely, Captain Standish," replied Carver with gentle alacrity. "Your word is enough. And while Alden finds wherewithal to feed and quench his thirst, John Howland shall bring a mantle or cloak from my house to throw about him, for it | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924371 | is not seemly that our people should see us entertaining a man stark as he was born." "'T is well said, Master Carver. I had some such thought myself," said Allerton rather primly, while Hopkins and Billington exchanged an irreverent grin, and Standish stroked his moustache. The cloak was brought, and gracefully accepted by Samoset, who evidently regarded it as | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924372 | a ceremonial robe of state, designed to mark his admittance as an honored guest at the white men's board, and draping it toga-wise across his shoulder, he sat down to a plentiful repast of cold duck, biscuit, butter, cheese, and a kind of sausage called black pudding. To these solids was added a comfortable tankard of spirits and water, from | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924373 | which Samoset at once imbibed a protracted draught. "Englishman have better drink than poor Indian," remarked he placing the tankard close beside his plate, and seizing a leg of the duck in his hands. "'T is sure enough that he has been much with white men,--yes, and Englishmen, too, by the way he takes down his liquor," remarked Hopkins. "Nay, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924374 | methinks our Dutch brethren could take down a deep draught, too, and this is their own liquor," said Bradford, while Winslow muttered in Carver's ear,-- "Let not Alden leave the case-bottle within reach of the savage. Enough will loosen his tongue, but a little more will bind it." "True," assented the Governor, nodding to Alden, who quietly replaced the bottle | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924375 | in the case whence he had taken it. Samoset followed it with longing eyes, but his own dignity prevented remonstrance except by finishing the flagon and ostentatiously turning it upside down. After this, the meal was soon finished, and the conversation resumed, partly by signs and inference, partly by Samoset's limited stock of English. By one means and the other | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924376 | the Pilgrims presently learned that Monhegan was a large island near to the mainland in a northeasterly direction, and a great resort of fishing vessels, mostly English, with whose masters Samoset, as sachem of the Indians in those parts, had both traded and feasted, learning their language, their manners, and, what was worse, their habits of strong drink and profanity, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924377 | neither of which however seemed to have taken any great hold upon him, being reserved rather as accomplishments and proofs that he too had studied men and manners. The master of one of these fishing craft some few months previously had invited the sachem to accompany him across the bay to Cape Cod, where the sailor wished to traffic with | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924378 | the natives, and Samoset had since remained in this part of the country visiting Massasoit, sachem of the Wampanoags, who with a large party of his warriors was now lying in the forest outside of the settlement, waiting apparently for the result of Samoset's reconnoissance before he should determine on his own line of action. Farther inquiry elicited the fact | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924379 | that the former inhabitants of Plymouth, or Patuxet, a people tributary to Massasoit, but living under their own sachem, had been totally exterminated by a plague, perhaps small-pox, which had swept over the country two or three years before the landing of the Pilgrims, leaving, so far as Samoset could tell, only one man alive; this man seeking refuge among | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924380 | the Nausets, the tribe to the east of Patuxet, was one of the victims entrapped by Hunt, escaping from whom, he lived a long time in England with a merchant of London named Slaney, who finally sent him in a fishing vessel to Newfoundland, whence he had made his way back to his friends on Cape Cod. "And this man," | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924381 | demanded Winslow eagerly. "Where is he now? Do ye not perceive, friends, that this is an instrument shaped and fitted to our hands by the Providence of God, who hath also sent His plague to sweep away the inhabitants of this spot whither He would lead His chosen people?" "Of a truth it seemeth so," replied Carver reverently, while Standish | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924382 | muttered in his beard,-- "Pity but the salvages had known 't was Providence! 'T would have converted them out of hand." The elder who had his own opinion of the soldier's orthodoxy looked askance at the half-heard murmuring, and suddenly demanded,-- "Where, then, is this man? How call you him?" "Tisquantum he name. English trader across big water call him | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924383 | other fool name. Red man not know it." "Tisquantum is well enough for a name, but why did he not come hither with you, Samoset?" "Tisquantum much wise. He like see other fox put his paw in trap first before he try it." And as he thus betrayed his comrade's diplomacy the savage allowed a subtle smile to lighten his | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924384 | eyes, which, with the instinct that in simple mental organizations is so much surer than reason, he fixed upon Winslow, who laughed outright as he replied,-- "Wiser than thou, Samoset, me-seemeth. How is it thou wast so much more daring than thy fellow?" "Samoset poor fool. He not know enough to be afraid of anything. Not wise like white man | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924385 | and Tisquantum." And the sachem with a superb smile settled the tomahawk at his girdle, and threw off the folds of his horseman's cloak. But the grim smile upon most of the faces around the board showed that the jest had given no offense to men who knew their own and each other's courage, and the conference presently broke up, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924386 | the visitor amusing himself by strolling around the village, discreetly wrapped in his cloak, and taking a malicious delight in encountering Helen Billington, who never failed to greet him with a fusillade of suppressed wrath, to which he listened attentively, as if desirous of storing up some of the objurgations for his own future use. As night fell, and the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924387 | guest showed no intention of departure, some of the more cautious settlers suggested that he should be put on board the Mayflower for safe keeping, a plan which met Samoset's ready approval, for as he sententiously remarked,-- "Captain-man have much strong waters." But then, as now, he who would navigate Plymouth Harbor must take both wind and tide into account, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924388 | and when Samoset with Cooke, Browne, and Eaton to row him reached the shallop, they found her high and dry, with a stiff east wind in her teeth. The next plan was to bestow the dangerous guest safely on shore, and this was finally done in the loft of Stephen Hopkins's house, the veteran host grimly promising that he should | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924389 | not stir so much as a finger-nail but he would know it; and in spite of goodwife Billington's assurance to her sisters that they should one and all be murdered in their beds before morning, the sun arose upon them in peace and safety, and soon after breakfast the Indian was dismissed with some small gifts, and an agreement that | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924390 | he should come again the next day, bringing Squanto, and such others as desired to trade with the white men, and could offer skins of beaver, martin, or other valuable fur. "Could not they fetch a few ermine and miniver skins while they are at it," suggested Priscilla. "Methinks in this wilderness we women might at least solace ourselves with | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924391 | the show of royalty, sith we are too far from the throne to have our right disputed." "Who knows but that we may found a new kingdom here in the New World," replied John Alden playfully. "And where should we find a fitter sovereign than Queen Priscilla?" But Saturday passed over quietly, and it was not until Sunday morning that | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924392 | the Pilgrims coming out of the Common house after the morning service met Samoset stalking into the village followed by five other tall fellows, powerful but unarmed, Standish having sternly warned Samoset that neither he nor his companions must bring any weapon into the white man's settlement without permission. Much to the relief of the women who encountered these guests, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924393 | it was at once seen that Samoset had understood and communicated the hint involved in lending him a cloak to wear during his previous visit, for all were fully dressed in deerskin robes with leggings fastened to the girdle and disappearing at the ankle within moccasons of a style very familiar to our eyes, although a great marvel to those | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924394 | of the Pilgrims, who, however soon adopted and enjoyed them highly. Samoset and another savage, who seemed to be his especial associate, also carried each a finely dressed wild-cat skin as a sort of shield upon the left arm, and all were profusely decorated with paint, feathers, strings of shells, and one man with the tail of a fox gracefully | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924395 | draped across his forehead. All wore the hair in the cavalier style, long upon the shoulders and cut square across the brow, and all were comely and dignified looking warriors. The governor, elder, captain, with some other of the principal men, stood still in the open space where the King's Highway crossed The Street, and greeted, soberly as befitted the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924396 | day, yet cordially as befitted charity and hospitality, their guests, who watched with wary eyes every movement of the hosts whom they hardly trusted, while Samoset, stepping forward, unrolled a fine mat, or wrapping-rug, in his arm, and ceremoniously laid two axes and a wedge at the feet of Standish, saying briefly,-- "The white chief has his own again." "Our | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924397 | tools. Yes, that is as it should be," replied the captain, "although we may not use them to-day." "Six hungry guests to divide the dinner with us!" exclaimed Priscilla in dismay as she stood at Mistress Brewster's side, her glowing brunette beauty shining out in contrast with the soft ashen tints of the older woman's face. "Ay 't will put | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924398 | us to our trumps to make ready enough hot victual for all," replied the elder's wife. "They shall have none of the marchpane thou didst make yestere'en, Priscilla!" expostulated Desire Minter anxiously. "There is no more than enow for us that be women." "That will rest as our dear mother says," replied Priscilla smiling into Dame Brewster's face. "Nay, it | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924399 | needs not the marchpane thou madest so toilsomely to entertain these salvages to whom our ship-biscuit are a treat," and the elder woman smiled tenderly back into the glowing face so near her own. So presently the table in the Common house was spread with what to the red men was a feast of the gods, and they gravely ate | 60 | gutenberg |
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