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twg_000012924800 | and from Squanto's description seemed to have been an officer, and a very attractive young man. The-White-Birch, sister of Aspinet, chief of the Nausets, having fixed her regards upon the prisoner, discovered these peculiarities, and one day when the boys of the village were amusing themselves with seeing how near they could shoot their blunted arrows to the prisoner's eyes | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924801 | without putting them out, she stepped forward, and, Pocahontas-like, announced that she took this man for her husband, and as such claimed his release from torture. Her demand was complied with, and the half dead victim unbound and informed of his new honors; but it was too late--want, misery, and cruelty had done their work, and the poor fellow's wits | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924802 | had fled. He accepted the tender care and affection of The-White-Birch as a child might have done, but the joyous gallantry of the debonair young French officer was a thing of the past, and the bridegroom had become as completely the child of nature as his bride. He was adopted into the tribe, and the Indian name given him, in | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924803 | no spirit of taunt or contempt, but simply as a descriptive appellation, meant The-White-Fool. They were married, these two strange lovers, and lived in the cabin built of ship's planks by The-White-Fool's dead comrades. In due time a son was born to them, the idol of his mother's heart, and the constant companion of the father, who seemed to find | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924804 | in the child some link with his own stray wits; but when the boy was about three years old the poor exile was seized with a fever, and in his delirium escaping from his tender nurse stalked naked through the village proclaiming in the native tongue that the wrath of God hung over this people and this land, because of | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924805 | the cruel wrong they had done to him and to his comrades; and he foretold that before seven snows had covered his grave, white men from over the sea should come like the wildfowl in the spring and settle down upon the creeks and ponds, and fill the forest with their cry, and the red men should melt away as | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924806 | the snow melts and their place be no more seen. It was really worth something to hear Squanto declaim this wild prophecy with the shrill voice and fevered gestures of the delirious captive; and as they caught his meaning the pnieses around Janno stirred in their places, laid hand upon the tomahawk at each man's girdle, and cast menacing looks | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924807 | upon the strangers. "Have a care, Squanto! Say no more on that head, or thou 'lt stir up strife afresh," muttered Bradford in the interpreter's ear, while Standish fixed his eyes upon Janno ready to sacrifice him at the first hostile movement. But the young chief casting a meaning glance around the circle said quietly,-- "The-White-Birch was of the blood | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924808 | of Aspinet my brother, and The-White-Fool was her husband." "Well said, Chief!" exclaimed Standish who had already mastered much of the Indian language, and in accordance with his late resolve soon became the most expert interpreter in the colony, while Bradford nodding said, "Go on, Squanto!" Little however remained to tell. The ill-starred Frenchman died within a few hours of | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924809 | his prophecy, and hardly had The-White-Birch laid him in his honored grave when she was called to bury her little boy, whom the father had named Louis, along with him. Then she set off alone to find the comrades of her lost love at Namasket, and Shawmut, that they might with her lament his death; but whether illness came upon | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924810 | her and she crept aside to die, or haply some wild creature slew and devoured her, or in her maze of grief she strayed away and starved in the limitless woods, none ever knew; she never was heard of again. "And the other two captives?" inquired Standish. "The Feast-of-Green-Corn before the last one, Captain Dermer carried them away in his | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924811 | ship," replied Squanto proud of his English and his information. "Ay, ay, and now we understand why these Nauset Indians attacked us at the First Encounter," said Standish. "Especially as they had probably watched us stealing their corn," added Fuller dryly. "Borrowing, not stealing, Surgeon," retorted Bradford briskly. "And a part of our errand to the First Encounter is to | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924812 | satisfy our creditor for the debt. Let us be going." An hour later the shallop, now riding gayly upon the flood tide, put forth from Barnstable Harbor, carrying not only its own crew, but Janno with several of his followers, he having volunteered as guide and negotiator with Aspinet for the restoration of little Billington. The voyage prospered, and before | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924813 | night the boy, decked with strings of beads and various savage ornaments, was restored to his guardians by Aspinet himself; while the first red man allowed to come on board the shallop was the owner of the corn "borrowed" by the Pilgrims, who now repaid its value twofold by an order for goods to be delivered at Plymouth. But more | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924814 | important than boy or corn, at any rate to the ears of Standish, was a report here received that the Narragansetts, their friend Massasoit's neighbors and deadly foes, had made a raid upon his domains and carried him away prisoner. Also that one of Massasoit's pnieses called Corbitant had become an ally of the Narragansetts, and was now at Namasket, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924815 | only fourteen miles from Plymouth, trying to raise a revolt against both his chief and the white men their allies. He was also fiercely denouncing Squanto, Hobomok, and Tockamahamon as renegades and traitors to their own people, who should be at once put to death. This news was so alarming that without waiting for trade, or for the feast offered | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924816 | to them, the Pilgrims at once set sail, and after stormy weather and sundry adventures arrived safely at home toward night of the third day from their departure. John Billington was received with vociferous joy by his mother, treated to a lithe bundle of birch rods by his father, and assaulted by his brother, who at once fought him for | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924817 | the possession of the bead necklaces and other gauds he had brought home. The men of the colony were meantime hearing the report brought in by Nepeof, a sachem just from Namasket, of the treacherous proceedings there, and before they had been three hours at home Squanto and Hobomok were dispatched to discover the truth of the matter, while Nepeof | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924818 | was held as a hostage. . A LITTLE DISCIPLINE. "And how sped you in your errand, Master Envoy?" inquired Standish as, lighted pipe in hand, he once more seated himself upon the bench outside his cabin door to enjoy the sunset hour. But at the sudden question John Alden's face flushed deeper than the sunset, and he stammered, "I am | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924819 | so blundering, Master--I told the maiden all you bade me, but--but"-- "But what, thou stammering idiot!" roared the captain, his serene brow suddenly overcast, and the red surging up to his own brow. "Dost mean to say the girl flouted the suit of--nay, then, what dost thou mean? Speak out, man, and be not so timorous!" "Here is Giles Hopkins!" | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924820 | exclaimed John, as feet were heard running up the hill, and the captain angrily turned to meet the new-comer, shouting,-- "Well, what dost thou want, youngster? Is a man never to be rid of half-wit boys in this place!" "Please, Captain, the governor desires you to come in haste to a sudden Council. The Indians are come in, and methinks"-- | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924821 | "And who in Beelzebub's name cares what thou thinkst!" shouted the captain. "Begone before I box thy malapert ears." And driving the lad before him he strode down the hill without another word or look at John, who grinding his heel into the turf muttered,-- "And now he's angered, and beshrew me if I could not find it in my | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924822 | heart to wish Priscilla had said him yea, rather than nay. It were easier to bear her scorn of me if I knew that he was content. 'T is not so hard to suffer loss if a dear friend gains by that same loss." Meantime Standish striding wrathfully down the hill met Priscilla as she darted out of the door | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924823 | of the elder's house. At sight of him she stopped short, coloring scarlet, and yet her whole face gleaming with a wicked inclination to laugh. The captain also hesitated a moment, and then removing his barret cap with a bow whose stately courtesy recalled his lineage he said,-- "Pardon me, Mistress Molines, for what it seems was undue presumption. May | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924824 | I ask if the Council is convened here or at the Common house?" "At the Common house, Captain; but indeed and by my faith I know not"-- "Pardon if I venture to cut you short, Mistress, but I am summoned in haste to the Council." And with another formal bow the captain hastened on, leaving Priscilla biting her lip and | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924825 | staring after him, half angry, half amused. "One could be proud of him--if--if--Oh heart, heart! What is 't thou 'rt clamoring for! Well--at least I can go and make a posset for my dear dame, and the rest may wait." And with a sigh and a smile and a blush the girl turned back to the things of the hour. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924826 | "Now here's a coil, Captain!" exclaimed Bradford as Standish entered the large room where about a dozen of the men of the colony were assembled in informal council, while in the midst stood Hobomok, his red skin streaming with perspiration and stained with travel, while his usually impassive face bore an expression of genuine grief and dismay. "What is it? | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924827 | Ha, Hobomok returned alone!" "Yes, and with evil tidings," replied the Governor. "He and Squanto reached Namasket early this morning and sought to conceal themselves in a house belonging to Squanto, though now lent to a kinsman. But some one betrayed them to Corbitant, who was vaporing around the village calling upon the men to rise in revolt against Massasoit | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924828 | and deliver him up to the Narragansetts, and saying that we white men should all be slain, and also those who have made alliance with us, for already he had news of our visit to Nauset, and the contract made with Aspinet, and Canacum, and Iyanough. While yet he raved against Squanto, and Hobomok, and Tockamahamon, a traitor told him | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924829 | that the two first were hiding in the village, and he swore a great oath by all his gods that they should die, especially Squanto, in whom, said he, the white men will lose their tongue"-- "What meant he by that, Governor?" demanded Warren. "Why, that he is our interpreter," sharply replied Standish. "What else should he mean? What next, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924830 | Governor?" "Next they circumvented Squanto in his cabin, and Corbitant seizing him held a knife to his throat, mocking and taunting him as is their fashion, while two fell upon Hobomok, but he being a lusty fellow and quick, broke from them and fled hither so fast as legs could carry him. You see the condition he is in." "And | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924831 | left thy comrade to die!" ejaculated Standish looking scornfully at the Indian, who humbly replied in his own tongue,-- "Hobomok only one man. Corbitant many men. Squanto perhaps dead, but the white man will send a hundred of his enemies to be his servants in the Happy Land. A brave fears not to die, if he may be avenged." "Ha! | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924832 | 'T is the savage philosophy, and not a bad one," said Standish, and although the elder raised stern eyes of rebuke upon the reckless soldier he continued,-- "And I shall lead our forces to avenge both the death of our servant and Massasoit's capture, shall I not, brethren? What is your will?" "Sound policy dictates that if our allies are | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924833 | to respect us, or our enemies fear us, we should not suffer such an affront as this to pass," declared Winslow. "England hath never yet borne that her flag should be insulted, and we are Englishmen." "You are right, Winslow," replied Bradford solemnly. "And loth though we may be to shed the blood of these men, whom we fain would | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924834 | convert to friends and Christians, it is my mind that in this instance we are bound to deal with them as with our own children, whom we indeed chastise, but still with an eye to their own future happiness." "'Now no chastening for the present seemeth to be joyous but grievous: nevertheless afterward it yieldeth the peaceable fruit of righteousness | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924835 | to them which are exercised thereby,'" quoted the Elder sententiously, while Standish stood impatiently twisting his moustache, and glancing around the assembly as if selecting his men. "And now, having chapter and verse for avenging this affront, let us set about doing it," exclaimed he as several of the company murmured Amen to the Elder's approved quotation. But Bradford fixed | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924836 | his steady eyes upon the soldier's face for a moment before he somewhat coldly asked,-- "How many men do you think it best to take, Captain Standish?" "Ten. Hopkins, the Surgeon, Winslow, Browne, Howland, Gilbert Winslow, Billington, Eaton, Dotey, and Lister," replied Standish promptly, and then with his peculiarly winning smile he added,-- "You see I leave the governor, with | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924837 | Master Allerton his assistant, to guide the colony, and the elder to pray for our success, and Master Warren for a councilor, and the rest to carry on our various labors and protect the weaklings." "It is a good division it seemeth to me. What say you all, brethren?" asked the governor still gravely, and one by one each man | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924838 | signified his assent, only Howland coming close to the captain asked,-- "May not Alden go with us, Captain? He hath a very pretty fashion with his weapon." "Am I captain, or art thou, John Howland?" growled the leader, and as all turned out of the house to prepare for the march in the following dawn, Bradford laid his hand upon | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924839 | his friend's shoulder and walked along with him. "What ails thee, Myles? Thou 'rt sorely chafed at something. Is aught amiss that I can help?" "Nay, Will, 't is naught, and less than naught. 'T is but a new knowledge of mine own unworthiness. Sure 'never such a fool as an old fool' is a good proverb." "'T is not | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924840 | to a fool that we trust the lives of ten out of our nineteen men," said Bradford quietly. "Oh, I can fight well enow," replied the soldier bitterly. "'T is my trade, and all I'm fit for. Ay, and in my mood to-day I'll be fain to fight. I only fear this knave Corbitant hath run away." "If so, he | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924841 | confesses his defeat without the need of bloodshed," suggested Bradford. "And at all odds, Standish, our policy is to make friends by fair means if we may. Remember, if Squanto is not harmed, Corbitant is not to be touched. If indeed our poor friend is slain, then have you warrant for Corbitant's head, and the lives of all who helped | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924842 | to murder Squanto. Thou 'rt too honorable a man and too good a Christian to let thine own chafed humor interfere with justice." "I am too well drilled a soldier to disobey orders, Governor," replied the Captain briefly, and so they parted, nor did Standish and Alden exchange a sentence that night save barely these,-- "In one word, John, was | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924843 | the answer to my message yes or no?" "Dear Master, it was no." "I bade thee answer in one word, and thou hast disobeyed me in using five." The next morning brought one of those furious summer storms peculiar to August, and the little force, loaded with armor, weapons, and knapsacks, found themselves much distressed by the humid heat. Reaching | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924844 | a sheltered spot about a mile from Namasket, Standish resolved to remain there until dark, giving the men opportunity for rest and refreshment, and trusting to the storm and the night to cover his attack upon a foe ten times his own number. As darkness closed in upon the encampment, the captain roused himself from a soldier's nap, and briefly | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924845 | ordered,-- "Eat what provisions you have left in your knapsacks, men, and empty your flasks. Then pile and leave both beside this rock. Those of us who are alive in the morning will subsist upon the enemy. Those who are not will feel no lack." Soon after dark the little troop set forth, but Hobomok, deceived by the darkness and | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924846 | the rain, missed the route, and for three weary hours the men floundered around in the dripping forest, the guide wisely keeping out of the captain's reach, until in a gleam of watery moonlight Winslow recognized a peculiar clump of trees which he had noticed upon his late journey with Hopkins to visit Massasoit; and Hobomok recovering from his bewilderment | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924847 | led the way as fast as the men could follow him, until in the edge of a large clearing he paused, and pointing to a detached hut whispered,-- "Corbitant sleep there." "Now God be praised that there is a chance of fighting rather than floundering!" piously exclaimed Standish, and with brief exact phrases he proceeded to set the battle in | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924848 | array. Eight men were to silently surround the house, their pieces ready, and their orders to cut down if necessary any who should attempt to escape from the house. Standish and Winslow, followed by Hobomok, marched meantime straight into a hut, and the captain in a loud voice demanded,-- "Where is Corbitant? Give him up and no one else shall | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924849 | be harmed!" A moment of panic-stricken silence ensued, and then through the darkness was heard the indefinite rustling sound of living creatures seeking covertly to escape from an enclosure. "Look to it, outside!" shouted Standish. "Let no man pass your guard! Hobomok, tell them that we will harm none if they give up Corbitant and those who helped him to | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924850 | murder Tisquantum!" But the hubbub increased momently, and presently a shout of "Back! Back!" from without was followed by a loud shriek in a woman's voice. "Fools!" roared Standish in the native tongue. "Keep still. Stay in the house. We hurt none but Corbitant!" Yet still the tumult grew; the savages trusting no promises, endeavored to escape through the various | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924851 | openings of the wigwam, and although the sentinels were as careful as possible, and heartily desirous of avoiding bloodshed, several of the Indians were more or less hurt, while the half-grown boys perceiving the immunity of the women from harm, ran from one door to the other crying out,-- "Neen squaes! Neen squaes!" (I am a girl! I am a | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924852 | girl!) The women also hung around Hobomok, pulling at his hands and clothing, for attention, while they shrieked, "Oh Hobomok, I am thy friend! Thou knowest I am thy friend!" Winslow meantime had stirred up the embers of a fire near the doorway of the hut, and the flame leaping out cast a wild and fitful glare over the scene, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924853 | in the midst of which Hobomok, climbing the stout pole in the centre of the cabin, thrust his head through the smoke-hole at the top, and after emitting a hideous war-whoop shouted the names of Tisquantum and Tockamahamon at the top of his voice, for one of the women had assured him that the former was alive, and that Corbitant | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924854 | was already many miles on his homeward way. Not two minutes had elapsed, when an answering whoop was heard from the cluster of huts forming the village of Namasket, now the town of Middleboro', and an irregular stream of warriors, headed by Tisquantum in person, came running toward the beleaguered hut. The struggle was now over, for so soon as | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924855 | the _casus belli_ was disproved by Squanto's appearance, the capture of Corbitant was no longer desirable, and Standish ordered his men to sheathe their swords and release their prisoners. Those who had been wounded by persisting in trying to escape were attended to by Surgeon Fuller, and by Standish's invitation returned to Plymouth with their friendly conquerors to receive a | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924856 | certain amount of petting by way of compensation for their wounds, although the captain did not fail to point out that if they had believed and obeyed him, they need not have been hurt at all. Tisquantum shrewdly flattered at the importance set upon his life by his white friends, seated himself with them around the new-fed fire, and with | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924857 | much gesticulation and flowery forms of speech related how, by his combined prowess and subtlety, he had forced Corbitant to release him, and finally to leave Namasket with his warriors, not, however, without hideous threats of what should befall that village if it persisted in an alliance with the white men, who were soon to be exterminated with all their | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924858 | friends. "Ha! We will send an embassage to this haughty sachem, with some counter promises and warnings," exclaimed Standish in hearing this part of the report; and at the last moment, before the little army with its captives left the place upon the following morning, a runner was dispatched to follow Corbitant, and assure him from The-Sword-of-the-White-Men, as Standish now | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924859 | began to be called among the Indians, that unless Massasoit returned in safety from the country of the Narragansetts, whither he had been beguiled, the death of the great sachem should be visited upon Corbitant and all his tribe to the uttermost, and that if anything more was heard of sedition and treachery as preached either among the Namaskets or | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924860 | elsewhere, Corbitant should find that no distance and no concealment should avail to save him from punishment. The message was duly delivered, and so convincing did its terrors, combined with the prompt action of the white men prove, that various sachems who had hitherto held aloof, even those of the Isles of Capawack, now called Martha's Vineyard, sent to beg | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924861 | for a treaty of peace and mutual support; and in the end Corbitant prayed the kind offices of Massasoit, now restored to his kingdom, to make his submission to the white men. But though so fair in outward seeming, this peace was but a hollow one, and one more lesson was needed before the Indians became in very truth the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924862 | friends and allies of the white men. . THE FIRST THANKSGIVING DAY OF NEW ENGLAND. "Oh Priscilla, girl, what thinkst thou is toward now?" demanded Mary Chilton, running down to the spring where her friend was sprinkling and turning a piece of coarse linen spun and woven by her own hands for domestic use; but straightening herself at the merry | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924863 | summons, her dark eyes lighted with animation as she responded in the same tone,-- "The governor is fain to marry thee, and the elder is ready to give his blessing. Is 't so?" "Thou foolish girl! It's not at me Master Bradford looks oftenest, not nigh as often as the captain looks at thee, nay but John Alden"-- "What is | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924864 | it! What's thy news! Speak quick or I'll sprinkle thee rather than the linen!" and raising the wooden dipper Priscilla whirled it so rapidly round her head that not a drop was spilled, while Mary shrieking and laughing darted back and crouched behind an alder bush. "Maids! Maids! Whence this unseemly mirth! Know ye not that the laughter of fools | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924865 | is like the crackling of thorns under the pot, a sure sign of the fire they are hasting to? The devil goeth about like a roaring lion"-- "Sometimes methinks he seemeth more like an ass," murmured Priscilla in Mary's ear, setting her off into convulsions of repressed laughter, while her naughty tormentor looked demurely up the bank to the angular | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924866 | figure defined against the evening sky and said,-- "We are beholden to you for the admonition, Master Allerton, and it must be a marvelous comfort to you that Mary and Remember Allerton weep so much oftener than they laugh." "I would, thou froward wench, that I had the training of thee for a while. Mayhap thou wouldst find cause for | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924867 | weeping"-- "Nay, I'm sure on 't. The very thought well-nigh makes me weep now," retorted Priscilla blithely, as the sour-visaged Councilor went on his way, and Mary half frightened, half delighted, came forward saying,-- "Oh Priscilla, how dost thou dare flout Master Allerton in that style! He'll have thee before the Church." "Not he!" replied Priscilla coolly. "Hist now, poppet, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924868 | and I'll tell thee something--thou 'lt not repeat it though?" "Not I," replied Mary stoutly. "Well, then, dost think I should make a fitting stepdame for Bartholomew and Mary and Remember?" "Dost mean"-- "Ay do I, just that. And because I could not but laugh merrily at the notion when 't was placed before me last Sunday night, the Assistant | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924869 | looketh sourly enough but dareth not meddle with me lest I make others laugh as well as myself." "Priscilla! Mary!" called Elizabeth Tilley's voice from the doorstep. "Mistress Brewster would have you in to see about noon-meat." "But thy news, poppet, quick!" exclaimed Priscilla as gathering up her gear she slowly led the way up the hill. "Why, the governor | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924870 | hath resolved upon a day, or rather a week, of holiday and of thanksgiving for the mercies God hath showed us. Think of it, Pris! A whole week of feasting and holiday!" "Hm!" dryly responded Priscilla. "It sounds well enow, but who is to make ready this feasting?" "Why--all of us--and chiefly you, dear wench, for none can season a | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924871 | delicate dish or"-- "Ay, ay, I know that song full well; but dost really think, Molly, that to do a good deal more, and a good deal harder cooking than our wont, will be so very sprightly a holiday?" "But 't will be doing our part to make holiday for the others," replied Mary simply. "Now, then, if thou 'rt | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924872 | not at thy old tricks of shaming my selfish frowardness!" exclaimed Priscilla, and laughing they entered the house where all the women of the community were assembled in eager debate over their share in the approaching festival. "The governor hath already ordered my man, with Dotey and Soule and Latham, to go afield to-morrow with their guns, and to spend | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924873 | two days in gathering game," announced Helen Billington with an air of importance. "And it was determined to invite King Massasoit and his train to the feast," eagerly added Mistress Winslow, who, with her baby Peregrine White in her arms, had run across the street to join the council. "Methinks another party should go to the beach to dig clams," | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924874 | suggested Dame Hopkins. "For though not so toothsome as venison and birds 't is a prey more surely to be come by." "The elder saith the God of Jacob sendeth us the clams as he did manna to those other children of his in the desert," added the weak sweet voice of the elder's wife. "At morning and at night | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924875 | we may gather them in certainty." "But they hold not sweet over Sunday, that is if the day be hot," suggested Desire Minter ruefully. "And Priscilla we shall look to thee for marchpanes and manchets and plum-porridge and possets and all manner of tasty cates, such as only thou canst make," said the dame hastily, and fixing her eyes upon | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924876 | the girl's face as if to hinder any irreverent laughter at Desire's speech. "All that I can do I will do blithely and steadfastly if it will pleasure you, mother," replied Priscilla gently, as she knelt down beside the invalid and rested against the arm of that old chair which you may see to-day reverently preserved in Plymouth. "I know | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924877 | thou wilt, sweetheart," replied the dame laying her frail hand upon the girl's abundant hair. "But I fear me our men cannot dine to-day on the promise of the coming feast." "Well thought on, mother. Come maids to work, to work!" That same afternoon Squanto was dispatched to Namasket to send from thence a runner to Massasoit inviting him, with | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924878 | his brother and a fitting escort, to the feast of Thanksgiving now fixed for the following Thursday; and so cordially did the great sachem respond, that about sunrise on the appointed day the laggards of the settlement were aroused by the terrific whoop and succession of unearthly shrieks with which the guests announced at once their arrival and their festive | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924879 | and playful condition of mind. Three of the leaders were ready even at this hour to receive the over punctual guests: the elder, who had risen early to prepare a few brief remarks suited to the occasion; Standish, who was always afoot to fire his sunrise gun; and Bradford, who valued the quiet morning hour in which he might allow | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924880 | his mind to dwell upon those abstruse and profound subjects so dear to his heart, and yet never allowed to intrude upon the business of the working day. So, while Winslow with his wife's assistance did on his more festive doublet and hose, and Allerton spake bitter words to Remember who had forgotten to replace the button that should hold | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924881 | her father's collar in place, and gentle Warren, the gruff Surgeon, and the rest made ready as they might, these three stood forth to receive Massasoit and Quadequina, who with a dozen or so of their principal pnieses came forward with considerable dignity, and through Squanto and Hobomok made their compliments in truly regal style, while their followers to the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924882 | number of about ninety men with a few women remained modestly in the background. Presently when the village was well afoot, and a big fire started between the elder's house and the brook for cooking purposes, the roll of the drum announced the morning prayers, with which the Pilgrims began every day, and more especially this Feast of Thanksgiving. The | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924883 | Indians stood reverently around, Massasoit explaining in low gutturals to a chieftain who had never visited Plymouth before, that the white men thus propitiated the Great Spirit, and engaged Him both to prosper them and kill their enemies. Prayers ended, Priscilla with her attendants flew back to the fire, and presently a long table spread in the open air for | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924884 | the men was covered with great wooden bowls full of what a later generation named hasty-pudding, to be eaten with butter and treacle, for milk was not to be had for more than one year to come. Other bowls contained an excellent clam chowder with plenty of sea biscuit swimming in the savory broth, while great pieces of cold boiled | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924885 | beef with mustard, flanked by dishes of turnips, offered solid resistance to those who so joyfully attacked them. Another table in the Common house offered somewhat more delicate food to the women and children, chief among it a great pewter bowl of plum-porridge with bits of toasted cracker floating upon it. The meal was a rude one looked upon with | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924886 | the dainty eyes and languid appetites of to-day, but to those sturdy and heroic men and women it was a veritable feast, and at its close Quadequina with an amiable smile nodded to one of his attendants, who produced and poured upon the table something like a bushel of popped corn,--a dainty hitherto unseen and unknown by most of the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924887 | Pilgrims. All tasted, and John Howland hastily gathering up a portion upon a wooden plate carried it to the Common house for the delectation of the women, that is to say, for Elizabeth Tilley, whose firm young teeth craunched it with much gusto. Breakfast over, with a grace after meat that amounted to another service, the governor announced that some | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924888 | military exercises under the direction of Captain Standish would now take place, and the guests were invited to seat themselves in the vicinity of a fire kindled on the ground at the northerly part of the village about at the head of Middle Street, and designed more as a common centre and social feature than for need since the weather | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924889 | was mild and lovely, so peculiarly so that when it recurred the next November and the next, the people remembering that first feast said, "Why, here is the Indians' summer again!" But on that day the only thought was that God accepted their thanksgiving and smiled His approval. Hardly had the guests comprehended the announcement and placed themselves in order, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924890 | when a wild fanfare of trumpets, an imposing roll of drums was heard from the vicinity of the Fort, and down the hill in orderly array marched the little army of nineteen men, preceded by the military band and led by their doughty Captain. Above their heads floated the banner of Old England, and beneath their corselets beat true English | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924891 | hearts; and yet here stood the nucleus of that power which a century and a half later was to successfully defy and throw off the rule of that magnificent but cruel stepdame; here stood the first American army; and then, as since, that score of determined souls struck terror into the hearts of five times their number. "If they have | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924892 | beguiled us here to destroy us!" murmured Quadequina in his brother's ear. "Canst not tell an eagle from a carrion-crow?" returned the wiser man. "Would Winsnow, or The-Sword, or the Chief, or the powah, do this? Peace, my brother." But as the military manoeuvres accompanied with frequent discharges of musketry, and accented at one point with a tremendous roar from | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924893 | the cannon of the Fort progressed, not only Quadequina, but many other of the braves became very uneasy; and to this cause as well as benevolence, may be attributed the offer made at dinner time by Quadequina to lead a hunting party of his own people into the woods to look for deer, whose haunts they well knew. Standish alone | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924894 | suspected this _arrire pense_, and when Bradford mildly applauded the generous kindness of their guests, he answered with a chuckle,-- "Ay, as kind as the traveler who begs the highwayman to let him go home and fetch a larger treasure." But in spite of his doubts the prince intended and made a _bon fide_ hunt, and returned early in the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924895 | next day with as much venison as lasted the entire company four days. "Oh, if I had but some Spanish chestnuts to stuff these turkeys, they might seem more like their brethren across the seas," exclaimed Priscilla as she turned over a pile of the wild birds and chose those to be first cooked. "Nay, but to me the flavor | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924896 | is better, and the meat more succulent of these than of any I ever saw at home," replied John Alden. "And the size! Do but look at this fellow, he will scale well-nigh twenty pound if an ounce." "If 't were a goose I would name it John, 't would be so prodigious a goose," replied Priscilla with a glance | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924897 | so saucy and so bewitching that her adorer forgot to reply, and she went briskly on,-- "Come now, young man, there's much to do and scant time to talk of it. Call me some of those gaping boys yonder and let them pluck these fowl, and bid John Billington come and break up these deer. And I must have wood | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924898 | and water galore to make meat for a hundred men. Stir thyself!" "I was thinking, Priscilla--why not stuff the turkeys with beechnuts? There is store of them up at our cottage." "How came they there? Doth our doughty Captain go birds-nesting and nutting in his by-times?" "Nay, but I did, that is, I gathered the nuts for thee, and then--then | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012924899 | feared if I offered them thou 'dst only flout me"-- "Oh, sure never was a poor maid so bestead with blind men--well, fetch thy beechnuts." "Nay, Priscilla, but blind, blind? How then am I blind, maiden, say?" "Why, not to have discovered ere this how I dote upon beechnuts. There, get thee gone for them." The dressing of beechnuts proved | 60 | gutenberg |
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