Standish of Standish: A Story of the Pilgrims Read online

  CHAPTER I.

  THE BATTLE OF THE TUBS.

  It was Monday morning.

  It was also the twenty-third day of November in the year of our Lord1620; but this latter fact was either unknown or matter of profoundindifference to the two-and-twenty women who stood ready to make the daymemorable in the world's history, while the fact of Monday was to themone of paramount importance.

  Do you ask why this was thus?

  The answer is duplex: first, the two-and-twenty women were not aware oftheir own importance, nor could guess that History would ever concernherself with the date of their present undertaking; and second, for areason whose roots are prehistoric, for they spring from theunfathomable depths of the feminine soul wherein abides inherently thelove of purity, of order, and of tradition. Yes, in two hundred andseventy years the face of Nature, of empires, and of peoples has changedalmost beyond recognition in this our New World; but the grand law atwhose practical establishment in the New World we now assist, abidesto-day:--

  Monday is Washing Day.

  Does some caviler here suggest that although the human female soul isembodied in the children of Ham, Shem, and Japhet, the mighty lawreferred to is binding only upon that Anglo-British-Saxon-Normandivision of Japhet's daughters domiciled in and emanating from theBritish Isles? Let us proudly reply that in considering the result of aprocess we consider the whole; and let us meekly add that to our mindthe Anglo-British-Saxon-Norman woman, perfected under an American sky,is the woman of the world; and finally, let us point to thetwo-and-twenty heroines of that Monday as chief among American women,for they were the Pilgrim Mothers of the New World.

  The Pilgrim Fathers were there also; and they, too, were exemplifying alaw of nature, that is to say, a law of male nature in every clime andevery age. They did not love Washing Day. They felt no joy in thepossibility of its observance, they felt no need of its processes. Andyet again _more humano_, they did not openly set themselves against it,they did not frankly express their unworthy content in their presentestate, but they feebly suggested that as the observance had been someweeks omitted, with no sensible loss of comfort to themselves, it mightwell be farther postponed; that the facilities were by no meansremarkable; that rain was very possible, and that they had to applythemselves without delay to unshipping the pinnace from the hold of theMayflower, and fitting her for the immediate service of exploration.

  To these arguments the women meekly responded that in the nature ofthings they were better fitted to judge of the emergency than theirlords, whose attention must be absorbed in matters of so much higherimport; that they did not require the help of any man whose work uponthe pinnace would be at all important, and that the sandy beach, thepool of fresh water, and the clumps of stunted shrubs fairly spread uponthe shore in front of them were all the facilities they required. As forthe weather, as Dame Hopkins piously remarked:--

  "If Monday's weather be not fit for washing, there is no promise in HolyWrit of anything better in the rest of the week."

  "Oh, if thou r't bent on washing, the shrewdest storm that ever sweptthe Zuyder Zee will never stop thee; so get thy rags together as soon asmay be," growled her husband, a grizzled, hard-visaged veteran sometwenty years older than this his second wife of whom he was very fond.

  "Nay, then," interposed another voice, as a shrewd, kindly looking man,albeit with a certain whimsical cast to his thin features, approachedthe pair; "Mistress Hopkins will do no washing to-day; no, nor even goon shore to gather chill and weariness for my little friend Oceanus."

  "'Will not,' shall not? Marry and who is to hinder, if you please, goodMaster Fuller?" asked the young woman in a somewhat shrewish voice.

  "I, Samuel Fuller, Licentiate of Cambridge, late practitioner ofBartlemy's Hospital, London, and your medical adviser, madam," repliedthe doctor with a dry smile and mocking bow. "Recall, if you please,that Oceanus is not yet a fortnight old, and that both mother and childare still my responsibility. Would you ruin my reputation, madam, not tomention risking your own life and the boy's?"

  "Have a care, Doctor, or some fine day you'll trip in your own quips,and break your neck," replied Mistress Hopkins half sullenly, while herhusband cried,--

  "He's right there, Bess. Thou 'rt in no case for such rough sport asthis is like to prove, and thou 'lt stay aboard whoever goes ashore."

  "Yes, stay thou aboard and mind thy babe, and I'll take thy clothesalong with my own, so thou 'lt let Constance come to help me," suggestedthe somewhat coarse voice of a woman standing by.

  "Thank you kindly, goodwife Billington," replied Elizabeth Hopkinscoldly. "But Alice Rigdale hath already promised to do what is needed,and Constance must stay with me to mind Damaris and Oceanus."

  "Oh, if goodwife Rigdale has taken it in hand, I will step back,"replied Mistress Billington sharply; and as she descended thecompanion-way, Hopkins muttered in his wife's ear,--

  "Now thou showest some sense, wench. The least thou hast to do with theBillington brood the better I'll be pleased."

  "That's worth working for, surely," retorted his wife, tossing her headpettishly.

  "I tell you there's no boat to be spared, and no man to row it, and I'llhave naught to say to it," exclaimed a surly voice from thecompanion-way, and Captain Thomas Jones, master of the Mayflower, butnot of the Pilgrims, appeared on deck.

  Captain Jones was not an amiable man, his training as buccaneer andslaver having possibly blunted his finer feelings, and his consciousnessof present treachery probably increasing the irritability oftensucceeding to a murdered conscience.

  Such as he was, however, this man was the Inventor of Plymouth Rock,since by his collusion with the Dutch who wished to keep the profits oftheir Manhattan Colony to themselves, the Mayflower had found itimpossible to make her way southward around Cape Cod, and after nearlygoing to wreck upon the shoals off Malabar, or Tucker's Terror had beendriven within the embrace of the curving arm thrown out by the New Worldto welcome and shelter the homeless children of the Old. There she laynow, the weather-beaten, clumsy, strained, and groaning old bark whosename is glorious in the annals of our country while Time shall endure,and whose merest splinter would to-day be enshrined in gold; there shelay swinging gently to the send of the great Atlantic whose waves brokesonorously upon the beach outside, and came racing around the point aflood of shattered and harmless monsters, moaning and hissing, to findtheir prey escaped and safely landlocked.

  "There's no boat, I say, and there's an end on 't," repeated MasterJones truculently as he stepped on deck, and two men who had beenearnestly conversing at the stern of the brig turned round and cametoward him. They were John Carver, already governor of the colony, andWilliam Bradford, his lieutenant and successor. The governor was thefirst to speak, and the somewhat measured accents of his voice, with itsinflections at once kindly and haughty, told of gentle breeding, of acalm and dignified temper, and of an aptness at command.

  "And why no boat, Master Jones?" asked he quietly. "Methought by theterms of our agreement you were to aid us in every way in making oursettlement."

  "And I'm not going back of my word, am I, master?" demanded Jonespeevishly. "A pack of wenches going ashore with tubs and kettles andbales and such gear is not a settlement, is it?"

  "Nay, but a means thereto if haply they find the place convenient,"replied Carver pleasantly. "At any rate, we will send them, since it hasbeen promised, and the same boat will serve to transport them with theirgear that is already fitted to help us ashore with the pinnace."

  "And our own men will do all that is required in lading and rowing theboat," added Bradford in his mild, persuasive voice. Jones, overborne bya calm authority against which he could not bluster, turned on his heelmuttering some surly assent. Carver slightly smiled as he watched thesquare and clumsy form expressing in every line of its back the futilerage of an overborne coward, and, turning toward the companion way, hecalled,--

  "Howland, John Howland, a word with thee!"

  "Ay, sir," replied a bl
ithe young voice; and presently a handsome headof pure Saxon type, as indeed were both Bradford's and Carver's,appeared above the hatchway, and a strong young fellow swinging himselfupon deck approached the governor, saying apologetically,--

  "I was helping to get out the pinnace, and there is a mort of dust anddirt about her."

  "I'll give thee a pleasanter task, John," replied Carver, smilingaffectionately upon his young retainer. "Thou and John Alden and GilbertWinslow shall take charge of the women who fain would go ashore to washtheir clothes. They will use the boat already lying alongside, and thouhadst better advise with Mistress Brewster for the rest. I leave it allwith you twain."

  "I will do my best, sir," replied Howland with a smile that showed hisshort, strong teeth and made his blue eyes twinkle pleasantly; thenreturning to the hatchway he called down,--

  "Ho, Alden! You're wanted, man, and so is Gilbert Winslow."

  "He's not here, then," responded a heavier voice, as a splendid younggiant swung himself up on deck and ran his fingers through a shock ofcurling chestnut hair; a glorious youth, six feet and over in his hoseof hodden gray, with the shoulders and sinews of an athlete, and thecalm, strong face of an Egyptian god.

  "What is it, John?" asked he, fixing his dark eyes upon Howland with theaffectionate gladness one reads in the eyes of a dog called to hismaster's side, but of which few human natures are capable.

  "Why, Jack, thou and I and Gilbert Winslow are appointed squires ofdames to some of the women who would fain go ashore to wash clothes, andwe are to pack them into yonder boat, row them ashore, and then purveywood, water, and such like for them."

  "I'd liefer haul out the pinnace," replied Alden with a grimace. "Butyour will is mine."

  "Nay, the governor's will is thine and mine, and it is he set us thistask. Where is Winslow?"

  "In the cabin belike, chatting with Mary Chilton. It's the work he bestloves," replied Alden grimly. "But I'll find him."

  "And some of the boys, Jack," suggested Howland, as the younger manturned away. "Bart Allerton and Love Brewster, Giles Hopkins andCrakstone and Cooke, any of the lads that you fall foul of, except theBillingtons,--of them I'll have none."

  "And why not the Billingtons, worshipful Master Howland, lackey of thegovernor, and page-boy to his wife," demanded the voice that hadinterrupted Mistress Hopkins, and turning toward it, Howland confronteda short, square woman, not without a certain vulgar comeliness of herown, although now her buxom complexion was florid with anger and herblack eyes snapping angrily, while the arms akimbo, the swaying figure,and raised voice betrayed Helena Billington for precisely what she was,a common scold and shrew. Howland was a brave man; he had already showedboth strength and prowess when, washed overboard in a "seel" of theship, and carried fathoms deep in mid-ocean, he caught thetopsail-halyards swept over with him and clung to them until he wasrescued in spite of the raging wind and waves that repeatedly draggedhim under; nor in the face of savage foe, or savage beast, or peril byland or sea, was John Howland ever known less than the foremost; but nowin face of this angry woman he found naught to say, and blushing andstammering and half laughing fairly turned and ran away, springing upthe stairs to the elevated deck cabins, in one of which Elder Brewsterand his family had their lodging.

  Mistress Brewster, a pale, sweet-faced woman, already at fifty-fourdressing and behaving as the venerable mother in Israel, came forward tomeet him, and smiling indulgently asked,--

  "Now what hast thou done to goodwife Billington, thou naughty lad? Ihear thy name in her complaint, and indeed all the company can hear it,if they will."

  "I did but say I would none of her boys in my party, dear MistressBrewster, and I hope you'll say so too," replied Howland, uncoveringhis yellow head. "They are the greatest marplots and scapegraces"--

  "Nay, nay, John! Say no evil, or thou 'lt make me think thou hast'scaped grace thyself," suggested the elder's wife with her gentlesmile. "And prithee, what is thy party? Are my boys bidden, or must theye'en bide with the Billingtons?"

  "The party is your party, dear dame, for the governor sent me to askyour commands upon it, and if Love and Wrestling will give us such aidas their years allow, I shall be most grateful."

  And then in simple phrase Howland repeated the governor's instructions,and requested those of the dame, who at once convened an informalcouncil of matrons, and so well advised them that in a scant hour theclumsy boat, rolling and bumping against the side of the brig, was ladenwith bales of clothing, tubs whose hoops John Alden, a cooper by trade,was hurriedly overlooking, and sundry great brass and copper kettles,household necessities of that epoch, and descending as relics to us wholook upon them with respectful wonder as memorial brasses of the "giantsof those days."

  A flock of women, all demurely and plainly dressed, although the most ofthem were under thirty years of age, stood waiting at the head of theladder until the cargo was stored, and Howland, sending his assistantsback on deck, planted himself upon the gunwale of the boat, and holdingout his hand to a stout, solid-looking woman with a young girl besideher said,--

  "Mistress Tilley, you had best come first, for you will be apt athelping the others, as I hand them down. And thou, too, Elizabeth, ifthou wilt."

  "And Constance Hopkins and Remember Allerton," pleaded the girl,lifting a sweet, saucy face to the young man; "we never are separated,for we're all of an age, all going on sixteen you know."

  "Hush, Bess, thou 'rt malapert," chided her mother, descending heavilyinto the boat, while a mutinous young voice above called out,--

  "Nay, I'm not going. Stepmother won't spare me."

  "Now Constance Hopkins, thou naughty hussy, wilt thou grumble attarrying with me to care for thine own dear sister and brother? Fie onthee, girl!"

  "They're not my own," grumbled Constance in Remember Allerton's ear."Giles is my own brother and he is to go, and Damaris and Oceanus arebut half sister and brother, and she's but my stepmother."

  "Hush, now, or she'll hear and thou 'lt come by a whipping," whisperedRemember hastily, as Dame Hopkins turned from Mistress Winslow who hadspoken to her, and came toward the girls. "I'll stay aboard with thee,Constance, and help thee with the babies."

  "Thou 'rt a dear good wench and I love thee," replied Constance in thesame tone, and, as the stepmother placed the muffled baby in her arms,she took him without comment, and went below followed by ElizabethTilley.

  Two trips of the capacious boat sufficed to carry women, clothes,utensils, and assistants across the three quarters of a mile of shallowwater lying between the brig and the shore, and the boys who went in thefirst boat were at once set to work to gather dry stuff from thethickets of scrub oak and pine sparsely clothing the beach, and to buildseveral fires along the margin of a large pool or perhaps pond of freshwater divided from the harbor by a narrow beach of firm white sand.Beach and pond have long since been devoured by the hungry sea, butstumps of good-sized trees are still dug from the dreary sandsenvironing Provincetown, to show what once has been.

  The second boat-load arrived, and by help of Alden's stalwart arm,Howland's cool decision and prompt action, and Winslow's quick eye andready aid to any woman needing assistance, the apparatus was soonadjusted, and a dozen pairs of strong white arms were plunged in thesuds, or throwing the clothes into the great caldrons bubbling over thefires which the boys gayly replenished.

  Not all the women of the Mayflower were thus engaged, however, forseveral were delicate in health, and several others had servants whotook this ungentle labor upon themselves; but those who did not laborwith their hands felt no superiority, and those who did had no shame inso doing; and although the manners of the day inculcated a certaindeference of manner and speech from the lower rank to the higher, andfrom youth to age, the very fact that every one of these persons hadabandoned home and friends and comfort that they might secure liberty,induced a sense of self respect and respect for others, which is thevery root and basis of a true republic. Thus Katharine Carver, wife ofthe governor, daughter of Bisho
p White, and sister of Robinson, thepastor of the community left behind in Leyden, although she sent hermaid Lois, and her man-servant Roger Wilder, to do the required work,came ashore with the rest, and by a touch here and a word there, and herinterest and sympathy, took her part in the labor of the whole, anddelicate woman and well-born lady though she was, made each of thosehard-working sisters feel that it was only her weakness, and not herstation, that prevented her doing all that they did. "Eleven o' theclock," said John Alden, as the Mayflower's cracked bell told six hoarsestrokes. "They said they'd bring our dinner ashore for us," and helooked wistfully toward the ship.

  "Who said?" asked Howland; "for I've more faith in some say-sos than insome others."

  "Well, if I remember, 't was Mistress Molines who told me," repliedAlden carefully careless.

  "Oh, ay," assented Howland, his blue eyes twinkling. "But I thought shewas ill, poor woman."

  "Nay, I meant Mistress Priscilla Molines," retorted the giant, blushing."She said somewhat to me of an onion soup which she flavors marvelouslywell."

  "Ah, yes, onion soup," retorted Howland gravely. "Methought it must besome such moving theme you discussed yester even as you sat on thecable. I noted even at that distance the tears in your eyes."

  "And if there were tears in mine eyes it is no matter of mocking, forMistress Priscilla was telling me that her mother is sick as she fearsunto death, and"--

  "John Howland, the boat is coming off with the rest of our company andnoon-meat for us all. Wilt thou and John Alden receive and help themashore, while Gilbert helps us to make ready here?"

  "Surely we will, Mistress Carver," replied Howland heartily, for hisrelationship toward the governor and his beautiful wife was rather thatof a younger brother than of a retainer; and although the smallness ofhis fortune had induced him to accept the patronage of the older andwealthier man, it was much as a lad of noble lineage was content a fewyears before this to become first the page and then the squire of abelted knight.

  The boat, unable to reach the shore on account of the flatness of thebeach, stuck fast about a bow-shot from dry land, and the men and boysat once tumbled over the edge and prepared to carry not only theluggage, but the female passengers ashore. Alden seeing this prospect,tore off his boots and stockings, and plunging into the chill waterhastened to the stern of the boat where a slender, vivacious girl,brown, dark-eyed, and with cheeks glowing with the dusky richness of apeach, stood balancing herself like a bird and giving orders to a youngman already in the water.

  "Now have a care, Robert Cartier, of that kettle. If thou spillst thesoup"--

  "The onion soup, Mistress Priscilla?" asked Alden approachingunperceived. Priscilla cast a look at him from the corners of her longeyes, and replied carelessly,--

  "Yes, Master Alden, an onion soup. Is that a favorite dish with yourworship?"

  "Why, thou knowest,"--began the young man with an air of bewilderment,but Priscilla interrupted him.

  "Since thou art here with thy broad shoulders, John Alden, thou wilt dowell to make them of use. There is Mistress Allerton struggling with ahamper beyond her strength, and there are bales of clothes that must notbe wet. Load thyself, good mule, and plod shoreward."

  "To be sure I will and gladly, fair mistress," replied Alden patiently."But first let me take thee ashore dry-shod, and then I will bring allthe rest."

  "Beshrew thee for a modest youth," retorted Priscilla, the peach colorof her cheeks deepening to pomegranate; "when I go ashore I will conveymyself, or my brother will carry me; and thou, since thou art sopicksome, may set thyself to work, and ask naught of me."

  "But why art thou so tart when I meant naught," began Alden,bewildered; but again the girl cut him short with a stinging littlelaugh.

  "Thou never meanest aught, poor John; but I have no time to waste withthee. Here, Robert, these come next, and take Mistress Allerton's hamperas well."

  "Nay, that is for me," growled Alden, seizing the basket from the handsof the astonished servant who relinquished it with a stare and amuttered exclamation in French; for William Molines, called Mullins bythe Pilgrims, his wife, son, daughter, and servant were all of theFrench Huguenots, who fleeing from their native land planted a colonyupon the river Waal in Holland, and were at this time known as Walloons.Learning enough of Dutch to carry on the business of daily life, and ofEnglish to communicate with their co-religionists of the Pilgrim churchin Leyden, they retained French as the dear home language of theirbirth, and the young people, like Priscilla and her brother Joseph, usedthe three languages with equal facility.

  A little offended and a good deal puzzled by the change in Priscilla'smanner since their last interview, Alden devoted himself to unloadingthe boat without again addressing her, until he saw her confide herselfto the arms of her brother to be taken ashore; then seizing an armful ofparcels, he strode along close behind the slender stripling whose thewsand sinews were obviously unequal to his courage, and who flounderedpainfully over the uneven sands. At last he stumbled, recovered himself,plunged wildly forward, and fell flat upon his face, while his sister,suddenly seized and held aloft in two strong arms, did not so much aswet the hem of her garment, until with a few swift strides her rescuerset her on dry land and turned to help the boy who came flounderingafter them with a rueful and angry countenance.

  "'T was all thy fault, Priscilla," began he. "Twisting and squirming tosee who was coming after us."

  "Nay, 't was the fault of some great monster who came trampling on ourheels, and making the water wash round my feet. Some whale or griffinbelike, though he has hid himself again," and the girl affected to shadeher eyes and scan the sparkling waters, while Alden strode moodily away.Priscilla glanced after his retreating figure, and spoke again to herbrother in a voice whose cooing softness poor John had never heard.

  "Thou poor dripping lad! And such a cough as thou hast already! Comewith me sweetheart, and I'll set thee between two fires, and put myduffle cloak about thee, and heat some soup scalding hot. I would I hada sup of strong waters for thee--ah yes, I see!"

  And hurriedly leading her brother to a sheltered nook between two greatfires, she cast her cloak over his shoulders, and then sprang up thesand-hill with the graceful strength of an antelope to the spot whereDoctor Fuller stood talking with a man whose appearance demands a wordof description. Short and square built, the figure bespoke strength andlong training in athletic exercises, while the haughty set of the head,the well-shaped hands and feet, and the clear cut of the features toldof gentle blood and the habit of predominance. The bare head was coveredwith thick chestnut hair, worn at the temples by pressure of a steelcap, and well matched in color by eyes whose strong, stern glancescarried defeat to the hearts of his savage foes even before his quickblows fell. The mouth, firmly closed beneath its drooping moustache, waslike the eyes, stern and terrible in anger, but like them it wascapable of a winning sweetness and charm only known to those he loved,those he pitied, and to the life-long friends whose loving descriptionhas come down to us; for this was Myles Standish, the soldier and heroof the Pilgrims; their dauntless defender in battle, their gentle nursein illness, their councilor and envoy and shining example in peace; theright arm of the colony, its modest commander, and its intelligentservant.

  As Priscilla approached, the two men ceased their conversation andturned toward her, neither of them unconscious of the beauty, grace, andvigor which clothed her as a garment, yet each restrained by inbornchivalry and respect from expressing his opinion.

  "Oh, Doctor, or you, Captain Standish, have either of you a flask ofstrong waters about you? My poor Joseph has fallen in the water, and itis so cold, and he has already a cough."

  "Yes, we saw him fall. He was overloaded for such a stripling," said thedoctor, with his dry smile, while Standish, hastily pulling a flask fromhis pocket, said,--

  "Here is some well-approved Hollands gin, Mistress Priscilla; and Iwould advise a good draught as soon as may be, and have it heated if itmay be."

  "Here,
hand it me. I will go and give my friend Joseph a rating forundertaking tasks beyond his strength, though belike the fault was noneof his!" And the doctor seizing the flask strode down the hill, whilePriscilla lingered to ask,--

  "How doth Mistress Standish find herself to-day? I heard she was butpoorly."

  "Ay, poorly enough," replied the Captain with a shadow chasing the smilefrom his eyes. "She is hardly strong enough for these shrewd winds andrough adventures. I had done better to leave her in England until we areestablished somewhere."

  "There's more than one in our company, I fear me, that has adventuredbeyond their strength," replied Priscilla sadly, as she remembered hermother's hectic flush and wasting strength and her brother's cough.

  "A forlorn hope, perhaps, set to garrison this by-corner of the world,but not forgotten by the Commander-in-chief, remember that, maidPriscilla," said the captain kindly and cheerily. "There in the LowCountries our worst trouble was that the home government never backed usas they should, and more than once we felt we were forgot and neglected;but in the warfare we have to wage here in the wilderness we can neverfear that."

  "Yet soldiers may die at their post here as well as there," saidPriscilla, turning to go down the hill.

  "So long as the work is done it matters little what becomes of thesoldier," replied Myles briefly, and the two rejoined the group aroundthe fires.

  Before nightfall the clothes, dried and sweet with the sunshine and pureair, were carefully folded into the tubs and kettles, the dinner wasneatly cleared away, and the whole company in several trips of the boatsconveyed on board, while the carpenters and their volunteer aidsremained to work while daylight lasted upon the pinnace, the Pilgrims'own craft, intended for exploration along the shore, and for fishingwhen they should have made a settlement.

  But Joseph Molines had not shaken off his chill by means of thecaptain's Hollands gin, nor did his mother or Rose Standish findthemselves better in the evening than they had been in the morning, andas the darkness of the November night closed around the lonely bark,gaunt shadowy forms, Disease and Famine and Death, seemed shapingthemselves among the clouds and brooding menacingly over the ForlornHope, as its soldiers slept or watched beneath.